The Oldie:Brit Food
IN COMPETITION NO 124 you were invited to write a song celebrating the rhubarb accorded an EU 'Protected Des-ignation of Origin' classification, or some other British regional speciality. It made me hungry to read your entries - except for some of those on Cornish pasties, and Bedfordshire Brussels sprouts.
Peter Davies paid unlikely compli-ments to laverbread, to the tune of 'Men OfHarlech': 'Eat more laverbread's the motto, I Miners when they're getting blotto I Swear by laver black risotto; I Good old laverbread.' From the same principality, Mike Law offered, to the tune of 'Land Of My Fathers': 'The leeks of my country, so precious to me, I The ampeloprasum, grow wild and grow free. I Whilst scorodoprasum, matured in the sand, I Makes soup called cawl cennin, the best in the land.'
Edward Garden wrote a tune to suit the words of his song of the haggis: 'Inside a sheep's turn sewn I Delicious offal, suet, oats I And sometimes skin and bone.' Peter Surnner sent a CD of his song,
sung with Trevor Meen, which made my computer crash, but was enjoyable at the second attempt. I wish you could hear it.
I am sorry not all could have prizes, but those printed below win £25 each, with the regionally desirable bonus of a Taylor's of Harrogate tea and cake set going to Bill Greenwell.
Oh the Jersey Royal has the knack
Of bringing in the spring:
Fertilised by local vraic
And pert as anything –
From Falmouth up to Aberdeen,
From the Medway to the Mersey,
The muddy spud on which we're keen
Is the Royal from the soil of Jersey.
And the Jersey's tiny kidney shape is
A salad-eater's glee:
The skin's as thin as Rizla papers,
And rich with Vitamin C -
From Shetland to the Isle of Wight,
From the Fenlands to the Foyle,
The loyal bite its waxy-white
And they praise the Jersey Royal.
Bill Greenwell
(Tune: Glorious Things Of Thee Are Spoken)
Scrumptious thoughts of it awaken
desperate rumblings in my turn,
and I pray that no one's taken
my last piece of sug'ry crumb.
Kendal Mint Cake is my weakness,
what can claim to be as good?
Loved by walkers, it is peerless -
unsurpassed as 'pick-up' food.
Brown or white it does not matter
to an addict, hooked, like me.
I don't care I'm getting fatter
when I crave a minty spree.
Celebrate this local treasure -
go and try some while you may,
lest the EU bans sweet pleasure,
in its interfering way.
Sarah Wall
Glory be tae Finnan haddie,
lo'ed by ilka lass an' laddie,
crofter, clerk an' golfin' caddie
when the wind is snell.
Brocht in boats frae gurly seas
an' seethed in milk fer winter teas,
there's nae warm hearth it willnae please
frae kirk tae prison cell.
Ilka golden, salty flake
adds tae a bonnie drocht tae slake
wi' strang broon tea an' Dundee cake
-an' a wee dram as well.
Frae Cromarty tae Pittenweem
the haddies still hang frae the beam
as once, strang wi' their yeller cream
we gie'd the Vikings hell.
Alison Prince
Frenchmen go to the dogs thinking horses and frogs
Are the stuff you should put in your belly,
And those hordes ofItalians, as potent as stallions,
Chew pizza and tagliatelle.
Though a burger and relish may taste pretty hellish,
Americans think it the thing.
But an Englishman's soul craves a toad-in-the-hole.
It's a dish that is fit for a King.
You'll be bigger and fatter on sausage and batter.
The world will admire how you've grown.
You'll be hearty and hale and you'll soon turn the scale
At the best part of twenty-four stone.
No, you'll leave not a crumb for it's made by your mum
And there's nothing as good in the shops.
No, you can't get enough of this wonderful stuff
FOR A TOAD-IN-THE-HOLE IS THE TOPS.
John Whitworth
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