Becky says things about … food

Food, Listener. Food.

You know what I’m talking about. That limitlessly versatile concept that can make you weep with joy, laugh with elation, and soil yourself with excitement.

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Having been through the dark and exhausting world of an eating disorder and emerged the other side, I’ve finally reached a point in life where I can consume food without fearing that my bum is suddenly going to balloon outwards to resemble a small elephant. This is not because I have discovered the secret to eternal slender-lithe-slim-lean-ness, or have taken to wearing incredibly tight steel support pants, but because I am finally comfortable with my body. And consequently, I’ve rediscovered my love of food.

I’ve always loved food. I loved food even during my eating disorder – I was just terrified of it at the same time. It was a bit like having a dragon as a pet. You really love it, you think it’s really cute and you love hanging out with it, but you’re always conscious that it might suddenly blow a jet of fire out of its nostrils and burn your face off.

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I am inherently greedy, Listener. If I ate everything I wanted to eat, in the quantity and with the frequency that my gluttonous stomach desires, it wouldn’t take me long to grow to the size of the Arctic Circle, and meet an untimely death that would cause problems for those that entered the afterlife at more reasonable proportions.

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Food is exciting. And not just crazy food done in crazy Heston Blumenthal ways, like a Scotch egg in the shape of an aardvark with a fairy wing-infused golden goose egg in the centre, or a pureed bumble bee thermidor that turns to diamonds in your mouth and then sets your teeth on fire – ordinary food is brilliant. There are trillions of blogs, like the fabulous Food for Fun, dedicated to the majesty of food, because food floats people’s boats. Come on, who hasn’t been so excited over a piping hot spoonful of succulent beef stew that they have recklessly forgone the essential blowing technique and instead shoved it in their mouth and consequently experienced the hellish pain of a burnt oesophagus, or swallowed a mouthful of double chocolate fudge ice cream the size of a badger and cried?

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Food makes people happy. I love that it makes people happy. Are you eating something delicious right now, Listener? Is it making you happy? Well, I love that your tasty treat is making you happy. I have just eaten a slice of soft toast excessively, almost histrionically, slathered in Marmite. It’s made me extremely happy. (‘What’s Marmite?’ you lovely US of A Listeners cry. It’s a little black jar of a thousand hallelujahs, my friends. That’s what it is.)

The fact that eating is a basic human function and that we need to do it several times a day is also marvellous. There are relatively few basic daily human needs that are quite so enjoyable.

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I love all  food. I am the least fussy eater this side of Mars. All those foods that people can be a bit weird about – olives, seafood, Brussels sprouts, cottage cheese, liver, stomach lining, cow colon residue – I just can’t get enough. Tuna and cottage cheese sandwich? Why, yes please. Olives stuffed with anchovies? Don’t mind if I do. I am unfathomably grateful that I’m not a fussy eater. One, I would never have been invited round to chums’ houses to play as a child because no one likes the kid that only eats breadstick shavings, and two, isn’t it boring????

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(A thought – I like every food in the world apart from banana-flavoured products. I love bananas – I really enjoy a lone, uncontaminated banana – but hand me a banana-flavoured yoghurt, or milkshake, or ice cream, which will all, without shadow of a doubt, be the same sickly-phlegmy yellowy colour, and I will simply make a dignified exit and send you a follow-up email politely asking you never to speak to me again.)

One of the many joys of food is that we all have our dark little food secrets. These are the food secrets that make us a slightly less dignified, slightly more greedy, and slightly sillier person that we make ourselves out to be. An example, if you will permit me, is that I have just this minute finished a jar of peanut butter. All gone. Empty. (Very sad, I cried a bit.) And did any of the peanut butter in that jar see a slice of bread? Not one bit! I consumed the entire contents by periodically visiting it with a teaspoon and standing quietly in the kitchen making the very peculiar facial movements that a mouthful of peanut butter necessitates.

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This is one of my food secrets: I will eat anything from a jar with a spoon. I mean anything. Marmite, lemon curd, pickled onions, chutney, jam, chocolate spread, piccalilli (don’t ask me to explain that one, my American pals – even we Brits don’t know what the hell piccalilli is), mustard, capers, baby food (one of the darker food secrets there), anything. Not mayonnaise. That would be vile.

Another food secret is that I am an avid consumer of raw cake mix. Yep, I have been known to eat so much raw cake mix (a heavenly cocktail of raw flour, raw egg, butter and sugar, anyone?) that I’ve been forced to make some more in order to manifest a cake. It can take me a very long time to bake a cake.

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I can also eat anything for breakfast. None of this ‘Ooo, no, my stomach can’t deal with eggs in the morning’ or ‘Chocolate??? For breakfast???’ nonsense with me. Nope, I’ll have my head in a bag of chocolate buttons and a plate of cold lasagne before you can say ‘Becky, you repulse me’.

We all have these food secrets, these little moments alone when we check that no one’s watching, then shove our face through the skin of some day-old custard, because food is ours, it’s part of and borne from our personalities; the joy of food is a universal and yet personal thing.

Food brings people together. People get very passionate about their food preferences. Some of the most animated conversations and vicious arguments I have witnessed have been over food. When I used to work in a pub, I would amuse myself on a quiet Monday evening by asking the locals important questions such as ‘What’s your favourite sandwich’ or ‘What’s your ideal three-course meal’. I would go to the other end of the bar and return half an hour later to find grown men embroiled in a heated debate along the lines of:

‘Prawn mayonnaise? Fucking prawn mayonnaiseYou want your head examined, mate. Egg and cress all the way.’

‘Egg and cress? You’re talking out your arse, mate. Salmon and cucumber or nothing.’

‘Wanker.’

‘Tosser.’

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We Brits can be very territorial about our food. We love food. It gives us something to do during those moments of devastating social awkwardness. And we get particularly territorial – riled, even – when we go to places like, oh, I don’t know, the United States of America, and find that the Americans are using food out of context. A prime example of this is the concept of biscuits. To us Brits, a biscuit is an everyday sugary treat, a necessity of life. We dunk them in our tea. We eat them at parties. We like them so much, websites have been dedicated to the concept of having a nice cup of tea and a sit down. 

So when we get to America and ask for some biscuits and are presented with a thick, glutinous flob of soggy dough that is then smothered with thick, glutinous gravy (gravy, Brits! Gravy!!!!) made from pork meat, flour and milk – we are, to put it mildly, absolutely ruddy furious.

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We will also be plunged into tremendous confusion and emotional upheaval when we see signs for ‘jelly on toast’. Jelly on toast??? we will mutter fervently to each other. What kind of perversion is this??? Because, you see, jelly in Britainland is your jello. We Brits do not eat jelly on toast. That would be foolish and distressing. No, we eat jam on toast. Because that is what it is. Jam. Get it RIGHT, America. Stop putting food out of context. 

However – and I say this at risk of being pelted with banana yoghurts by my fellow Brits – I have had one of my most magical food experiences in America. In Las Vegas. At the Wynn Hotel. The Breakfast Buffet. 15 food stations. Two hours. Heartburn to take down an entire city. The most heavenly morning of my life.

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So, dearest and most hungry of Listeners, enjoy your grub, stuff your face, tell me your darkest food secrets, and, if you are American, sort out the biscuit / jelly thing. You’ll be a better country for it.

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68 Comments

Filed under Food, Health and Exercise, The Beauty of Life, Thoughts and Musings

68 responses to “Becky says things about … food

  1. Oh my gosh. I love the things you say about food. Made me laugh right away. Thank you 🙂

  2. Le Clown

    Becky,
    Starting my day with a Stickman strip is as good as peanut butter cookies dipped in chocolate with a side order of Haagen-Dazs as a main course, while having sex, with food as a prop.
    And now for dessert…
    Le Clown

  3. This is why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. You are required to eat nonstop for a good 12 hours and it is completely appropriate to pass out on your host’s couch. It’s awesome. I know you’re British, but you should figure out some way to celebrate it.
    Oh…and I once ate 24 popsicles in one sitting….

    • Ohhhhh you Americans. Can you lend us Thanksgiving? Just for one year? We have to wait until Christmas to legitimately stuff our faces without judgement. 24 popsicles in one sitting? I take my hat off to you, my friend. Hat is well and truly off.

  4. Loved this. Except the bit about fake banana – surely that’s one of the best things ever?

  5. My sentiments exactly. And guess what? We will be celebrating Thanksgiving on Sunday. It’s the ultimate gastronomic overindulgence.

  6. I’ve never quite made it through an entire jar of peanut butter, but add it to a salad sandwich mmmmm. With mayonnaise. mmmmmm And give me anything chocolate or cheese and I will eat it irrespective of the size and subsequent sick feeling it will induce. mmmmm

  7. Marmite from a jar with a spoon? That is impressive. I read this eating mixed seeds in a soy dressing. Sounds virtuous, but the serving suggestion is “sprinkle over salads”. Nowhere does it say “upend packet into your gaping mouth. Fill to bursting. Distribute seeds over your torso and surrounding areas. Chew with contents of mouth spilling over your greedy face. Swallow, then spend equal amount of time picking half-masticated seeds from your teeth. Repeat until entire massive packet is but a memory.” Definitely a solo eating activity.

  8. I feel the same about bananas – and I love food, with food on it. I have made a life altering decision, when I reach 60ish, I shall eat a cannoli (or 3) every day for the rest of my life, even if it means being buried in a piano case.

    I have to say your food is confusing… spotted dick? SPOTTED DICK??? But I forgive you because I love peanut-butter-spoon.

    Beans on toast also makes me leery- but I love Lemon Curd – I could eat that from a jar too…well, actually, I do.

    So what do you call lumps of cooked flour (I wouldn’t put gravy on them if you paid me, but honey and butter? Oh you bettcha!)?

    • Cannoli every day? Why wait until your 60? DO IT NOW!!! WHY WASTE PRECIOUS EATING TIME????
      Spotted Dick is ridiculous. I don’t understand it either. And it’s disgusting. Soggy suet. MMMMM.
      It wasn’t the lumps of cooked flour I objected to – it was the collective concept of that stuff smothering the stodgy cowpats of dough that you dare to call BISCUITS. That is objectionable to any Brit.

      • Cookies are pretty good in any language or vernacular- so I totally ‘get it’.

        When I first started reading British novels (probably age 10 or so), I read biscuits as flour lumps and thought ‘huh, that’s weird’ in the context of the sentence’s meaning.
        I love language so I loved/love looking up interesting idioms and word differences btwn the two versions of English. I recently heard ‘marty bum’ – which was something I don’t ever remember hearing before. I would have never guessed it’s meaning on its own.

        I know, I know (about the cannoli) – but I’m not ready to commit to that piano-size as of yet. It’s a goal for my future – to keep the hope alive.

        • HAHAHAHA I can just imagine Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy sitting around tucking into biscuits and gravy for their high tea…
          I’ve just had to look up “mardy bum” – it’s a Northern thing. Never heard it down South. I like it though. I shall drag it down to the Southerners.
          Since discussing cannoli, I have been looking for it in patisserie windows …. but found nothing. This has made me very sad.

          • Cannoli is so very excellent. It’s hard to find in Arizona as well (well, Tucson) – but it’s all over New York … I’d be very large if I had an Italian bakery right around the corner to my house.

            Hee hee… yes, biscuits and gravy would be horrid at high tea. I always thought ‘eat your tea’ was an odd thing until I realized ‘tea’ was a meal – and I can’t imagine eating dinner at 8PM (I’m often in bed by that time!).

            Yes, Mardy Bum is a northern expression I saw too – I found a lot of interesting expressions when I was watching League of Gentleman (they’re from the North as well). Mardy Bum is a song by the Arctic Monkeys (the singer’s voice is to DIE for).

            Spread the word!!

            I, personally, love “have a go” & “suss out” – we use suss out quite a bit at work and I’ve noticed it spread a bit wider now too… I’ll take full credit 🙂

  9. You had me at olives stuffed with anchovies. You’re the devil herself.

    The opening line of this post called to mind “Food, glorious, food” from the musical Oliver!. Was that intentional?

    One of my biggest regrets in life is never learning how to cook. It’s not my fault. My mother was constantly shooing me out of her kitchen. Women love, LOVE, when you cook for them. It’s the greatest aphrodisiac there is. If I had a dozen or so scrumptious dishes under my belt, I probably would have had a more varied and interesting sex life when I was single. Too late.

    I’m one of these fortunates who can consume whatever I want, in any quantity I want, and never suffer from weight gain. Don’t be jealous. I hang on my cross for plenty of other things; some of them quite awful. I haven’t escaped everything. But I can eat a donut whenever it pleases me. I’ve got that much going for me.

    Wen I was in high school, I came home in the middle of the night in a marijuana haze, opened the refrigerator, saw a bowl of leftover turkey sausage stuffing and ate it with my hands. Not my proudest moment.

    There’s a method to our madness. A hierarchy here in the U.S.:

    Perseveres = the highest quality spread for toast.
    Jam = Still quite nice but not as expensive.
    Jelly = Jam when you’re on a budget. Less fruit, more gelatinous.

    I feel bad for vegetarians. I really pity them. Don’t you?

    • Melanie

      I was talking about this with work people last week. I told them all I wanted was to find a man who could cook and I’d be happy. Well, I’d actually be happy if he could cook and do the dishes because I am allergic to all things kitchen. I’ll scrub the toilet, no problem, but don’t make me touch dirty, food crusted plates. Ick to the max.

    • My friend, I have never smoked marijuana. I have, however, eaten cold sausage stuffing with my hands whilst standing at the fridge. Many times. In fact, it is a Christmas tradition, and I’m very much looking forward to this year’s event. Sausage stuffing is on my top 10 food list. I would kill my own grandmother for some sausage stuffing.
      Vegetarians must be pitied. Nuts vs steak. Carrots vs bacon. Hmm. Hard one.
      And as for men cooking – for some reason, that is indeed extremely attractive, especially if it’s something manly like steak. (Don’t let the feminists hear me say that.)
      Thanks for reading, you speedily-metabolic swine 😉

      • At Christmas, my mum would put the leftover chicken carcass on the kitchen side, nearest the dining room door. “What about food poisoning with it being left out of the fridge?” I hear you cry. There was never enough left on the carcass by the time we had wandered back and forth past it to make it worth keeping!

      • Marijuana + cold sausage stuffing whilst standing at the fridge = HEAVEN ON EARTH. After you realize what you’ve just done, you laugh and laugh and laugh. Endlessly. You might want to reconsider that Christmas tradition and add a little kick to it.

        To my credit, I can certainly cook a steak outside on my grill. There’s no skill required there. Beyond that, I’m flummoxed.

        • Congratulations on the use of the word ‘flummoxed’. It’s not used enough in everyday confabulatory musings.
          Thank you for suggesting an extra kick for my Christmas tradition. I’ll ask my mum to add ‘marijuana’ to her shopping list. I’m sure she won’t mind at all. Hey, if she doesn’t mind buying bread sauce – a sauce made from SOGGY BREAD – then she can bloody well buy me some potent mind-altering herbs.

  10. I like to eat an entire packet of jaffa cakes but in that way were you take two out, sit down, press play on your tv show again, eat them, wait ten minutes and repeat. All while pretending that you have no intention of eating them all but clearly do.

    My other favourite is to dunk Twiglets in Marmite. Joy!

  11. This is why I could never be a vegetarian/vegan. Green things, no sweets, no juicy meat… What is life without food? What good is it to be healthy and love-handle-less if you can’t ENJOY YOUR FOOD? 🙂 Love this post, and agree 100%. Except, I LOVE banana flavored things! Banana pancakes, banana bread, banana muffins. Suddenly, I’m starving. 😀

    • Urgh. I love you Lils, but I can’t love your penchant for banana flavoured products. Devilry.
      Life without food would be a whole stinking pile of shit. Except it would, because without food, there’d be no shit. Essentially.

  12. Sam

    Iced biscuits – as in normal biscuits (Rich Tea are the best), spread with icing (made with icing sugar), and preferably sprinkled with Hundreds and Thousands. You may have done this at your primary school summer fete… I did it last week at home. On my own.

  13. Melanie

    I’m American and I agree that biscuits and gravy is a travesty. So are grits (but don’t tell any of my Southern friends I said that). Don’t know if I can help with the jam/jelly conundrum, though.

  14. Oh my. I could comment on nearly every sentence in this post! FOOOOOOD! Let me start with: I’m a Yank in Ireland for over 8 years, so I speak both food languages. It was a steep learning curve! Especially when telling my Irish hubby about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He had SUCH a look of disgust at first, and even changing it to peanut butter and jam couldn’t shake that distasteful idea out of his head. Try a spoon of jam and a spoon of PB – it’s good! Even better – try to find American marshmallow Fluff. I’ve seen it at TK Max by the registers here. Best little-kid sammich ever: peanut butter and Fluff (it’s called a Fluffernutter. Doesn’t it just sound wonderful?)

    Sadly, I do have picky tastes, and I really wish I didn’t. Yes, it is boring to be terrified of what you might be served at a friend’s house. However, I love weird stuff just fine – it is normal things like onions and mayonnaise that make me throw up in my mouth if I attempt to eat them. No matter, just pass the frog legs and calamari and escargot, please!

    I loved your ideas for new Heston dishes. What is with him anyway? Is he that bored with a perfect steak that he needs to freeze it, vaporise it, and make it into an ice-cream mist?

    One of the only reasons I ever went to Vegas was for the buffets I’d heard about – sadly, I didn’t find the Wynne. I really really wanted to spend a few hours at a breakfast buffet. Um, I’m not obese, by the way just love to eat like you do!

    • Wow, what an excellent comment 🙂
      Marshmallow fluff? I’ve seen it. I’ve never tried it. I’m too scared. But maybe Im scared because I know that I’ll eat the entire jar with a spoon in one sitting…
      Heston is mental. Ice cream mist is EXACTLY what he makes, and that concept made me laugh into my pyjamas 🙂
      If you ever go back to Vegas, you must find the Wynn buffet. It’s just magical. Give yourself four hours (you’ll need breaks) and then put the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on your room door. You’ll need a cold towel, a dark room, and some Rennes. Tip from the top.
      Thanks for reading 🙂

      • You will love it, it is just super squishy marshmallow, completely spoonable. My Christmas treat is a jar of each and one spoon, and some horrid telly. Ahhhh!

        I’m afraid I’ll never be arsed to go back to Vegas. I don’t gamble, the food disappointed me, and I’m not rich enough for all the fabulous shows. And… have you ever walked so far in your life as when you were there? Sheesh.

        • Walking in Vegas? TELL ME ABOUT IT!! I walked so far in the blaring heat (after a 10,000 calorie breakfast buffet, obviosuly) that by the time I crawled up to a bar in Caesar’s Palace, I was actually shaking. My pedometer said I’d walked 14 kilometres. In 100 degree heat. I was very, very tired.
          My goal for this week is to source marshmallow fluff. Thank you for giving my life purpose again. Thank you.
          🙂

  15. kingkittyfer

    Why are you always so right? I don’t really know what else to write, other than that you appear to have your finger in all the pies and the pulse(s – hahaha) and whatnot.

    Top marks.

    • Oh I DID enjoy that pun. Well done 🙂
      I suppose I’m just a human being trying to bumble my way through life and saying things that other human beings feel as well. We’re ALL right. I just say it on here 😉
      Thanks for reading!

  16. I hate fake banana (obviously) but fake strawberry is a close second. What are people thinking? Not that this matters to me AT ALL since I discovered Ben and Jerry’s peanut butter cup ice cream. I now eat nothing else and I’ve never been happier.

  17. Eating Nutella out of the jar is one of life’s simplest pleasures. I could have gotten fired, punched in the face, run over by a bus…doesn’t matter. I’ve got that Nutella.

  18. 1) Banana flavoured things are disgusting. Except banana bread is OK. And banana flavoured medicine is actually better than the strawberry flavoured stuff. Probably because neither of them actually taste of a fruit.

    2) Things from a jar. Also from a tin – cold baked beans, cold sweetcorn, tinned rice pudding. In fact, ‘cold from a tin’ is the ONLY way to eat tinned rice pudding. When my son was a newborn, the midwife came round to check on us and I was eating rice pudding from a tin – it has rice and dairy, two major food groups = balanced meal.

    3) Marmite = yum. Marmite + honey = yum to power of delicious.

    4) Raw cake mix. Doesn’t everyone do this?! We had a CAT that used to clamour for the mixture (and raw pastry, too.)

    5) Cheddar cheese and marmite. Or cheddar cheese and jam. So mind-blowingly normal as far as I am concerned, that I am amazed when people not only *don’t* do this but also go ‘Ewwwww.’ (Don’t you know that it’s RUDE to do that about someone else’s choices, people?!)

    • 1) Banana flavoured medicine is the reason I despise banana flavoured products. I had it as a child. My gag reflex refused to permit me to swallow it. It would hit the back of my throat and come straight back out again. I am actually half-retching just thinking about it. Thank you for bringing up such a painful subject.
      2) YES,YES AND ALL TIMES YES. I eat every single one of the things you’ve mentioned from the tin, PARTICULARLY cold rice pudding. It is DELICIOUS. It will definitely be the first thing I eat after having a child.
      3) Marmite WITH honey? It sounds vile but I’ll try anything once.
      4) Raw pastry – no. Raw cake mix – I actually know some people who don’t like it, or are too frightened at the prospect of eating raw egg. Pansies.
      5) Cheddar cheese and marmite was my favourite school lunchbox sandwich. It is tremendous. Cheese and jam – again, I’ll try anything once.
      6) Thank you for reading and for sharing your EXCELLENT food opinions. Top marks for having incredibly good taste in food. TASTE!!!!!! IN FOOD!!!!! GET IT????? My GOD why does no one realise that I am Surbiton’s answer to Oscar Wilde.

      • 1) Sorry.

        2) Hot with a blob of jam on the top is good, but an entirely different food.

        3) Yes, I know. It does sound vile. But it tastes oh so good. Sweet and sour. Mmmm. The only people I know who don’t like it are those odd people who don’t like the individual components.

        4) It was a cat. He could have the pastry scraps if he wanted them. The cake mix, on the other hand, he’d have to fight me for. And yes, pansies.

        5) Good sharp cheddar is the best. With red jam.

        6) It’s only a matter of time before the film rights…

  19. As always, I am tripping over your drawings.
    Ref: “It doesn’t have to be like this…” I am still snorting in a distinctly unladylike fashion.

  20. I wish Americans would start the tea sit down. I would delight in regular, proper biscuits. I think we have jelly and jam here. Jam having chunks of fruit in it and jelly not so much. I really don’t even know. I’ll try to work on that, Becky. I’m guilty of eating the raw brownie batter. It’s perfectly delicious and stay out of my way. You’re so funny!!

    • Since writing the blog post, I have learnt the difference between jelly and jam in Americaland. Interesting that you differentiate between chunky and non chunky preserved fruit goods. Every day is a school day, as they say.
      Raw brownie batter is amazing. Not as good as cookie dough, which is so delicious I often cry whilst eating it 🙂
      Cheers lovely 🙂

  21. ohhh…. A “little black jar of a thousand hallelujahs” I love that! We have Vegemite here…. People in Australia will defend to the death Vegemite vs Marmite but I say let them live in harmony, all black yeasty spreads are good with me . 🙂

    Top job as usual Becky!

  22. indacampo

    Oooh Becky, you struck a chord with the Wynn Buffet. The best time to go is at that magical hour where the lunch buffet is changing to dinner. You pay the lunch price but get all the lovely goodness of the dinner. There is a picture of me somewhere scarfing down what had to be my third Creme Brulee…

    • Oh God, why didn’t I think of that??!! I had to make do with five (yes five) trips up to the breakfast buffet. I think it was when I was on my fourth mini burger and seventh cinnamon bun that I began to feel a little faint…

  23. I love biscuits and gravy! What do you call those gooey things we pour gravy over? I only put jam on my toast. I don’t have much use for jelly, American or British version.

  24. Good for you for being comfortable with your body! Food is amazing. One of my favourite things to do when I go to restaurants is try something new and unusual. It’s fun! And I especially love trying new desserts. Chocolate and sweets for breakfast – I’m definitely with you there!

  25. hortgal

    I’ve just been reading all of your posts (only discovered your AMAZING blog two days ago) and I have lost (gained?) countless hours reading and crying from laughing! Also, I just had to throw my bit of American weird-food-ness in here: Peanut butter, miracle whip (not mayonnaise…this is important), a slice of bologna, a bit of ice burg lettuce, on two pieces of white bread. Literally, full of absolute crap for your “wobbly bits”….but, totally worth it. This is probably just a Midwest thing, for Americans.

    • I’d love to say that sounds amazing………. But it totally doesn’t. And I know you say it’s not mayonnaise, but you’ve now just put the combination of mayonnaise and peanut butter in my head, and consequently I am feeling a trifle queasy…
      Thank you for your lovely comment, I’m glad you’ve found me! 🙂

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