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Tuesday, December 08, 2009

With the bull I dance the tango

The staff in Helminthdale Lending are going out for their Xmas do tonight. They've booked in for an evening's drinking supplemented by "authentic Northern tapas."

Looking at the menu, these turn out to be: chicken in a basket, cocktail sausages and sausage rolls on sticks.

11 comments:

Barlinnie said...

For the love of all things Holy... no black puddin?

Madame DeFarge said...

And no scampi? Or has multi-culturalism yet to reach them there those parts?

Gadjo Dilo said...

That's "fusion cuisine", Kevin, all the range down in London!

Macy said...

Let's just hope there'll be some PATATAS CHIPSES with SAUSAS CATSUP too.

Pat said...

It's the seventies all over again. I trust they were suitably dressed.

KAZ said...

Is the 'evening's drinking' going to be copa de Sangria or half of mild.

The Topiary Cow said...

Cow admits she doesn't know what tapas are and wouldn't care if she ate one or not.

Cow hopes it was a lively Christmas celebration!

Kevin Musgrove said...

Jimmy: it's at the Duck & Pullet, black pudding might be a bit ethnic for the chef.

Madame DeF: Scampi? Scampi? Don't come here with your Lunnun ways: Scampi was a Fingerbob.

Gadjo: where Helminthdale blazes a trail, others follow in its wake.

May: I swear I've been to a cafe in Queensferry that offered that!

Pat: oh yes, warm cardies, zip-up slippers, lots of bombazine. Oh... the 1970s. Quite probably.

Kaz: proper cocktails: pints of Guinness with pickled eggs in them. On a stick with a horse's head handle.

Ms Cow: you'd love it, honest!

The Topiary Cow said...

Well, okay. That DOES look tasty.

And resembles not at all, a sausage on a stick.

Presumably the liquor was supposed to drown out your awareness of the food?

Apparently you didn't drink enough.

Camilla Jessop said...

I thought all you Northern types ate pieces of tinned pineapple and processed Cheddar on a cocktail stick, as removed from half a cabbage wrapped in tinfoil.

Kevin Musgrove said...

Camilla: we have the half a cabbage, without the tinfoil