A lot of them read like the definition of fox-hunting by Oscar Wilde:
"The inedible pursued by the unspeakable".
And Wilde devoted his energies to the inedible and unspeakable.
You've clearly outlived your best period, Bill!
Dear Capfka: I regret that I find myself unable
to believe that the best is about to become.
So Pope was wrong, then?
"Man never is, but always to be blessed."
I thought Pope was infallible on matters of religion.
>>matters of religion<<
Nope. Pope is infallible *only in matters of faith and morals. "Religion" is too broad.
I just hope he was infallibel when crossing voer to the hotel on Eel Pie Island - if not, he'd have got very damp.
Ain't Google wonderful?
Eel Pie Island is familiar ground to those who frequent the River Thames in the neighbourhood of Twickenham. The island, on which is an inn, is situated just above the famous Twickenham Ferry, and rising behind is seen St. Mary's Church, where is Warburton's monument to Pope, and where Kitty Clive lies buried. Twickenham once belonged to Sir Francis Bacon, and its literary associations are innumerable. Pope lived for nearly thirty years at Twickenham, and died there, a short distance above Eel Pie Island. But the poet's home was destroyed early in the present century, and his much-talked-of grotto underwent drastic alterations. Orleans House, and Strawberry Hill, Walpole's well-known villa, are not far off.
Conger Eel Island Pie
Ingredients
675 g (1 1/2 lb) eel, skinned and boned
75 g (3 oz) butter
1 onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons chopped parsley
pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
3 tablespoons dry sherry
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2-3 hard-boiled eggs, roughly chopped
50 g ( 2 oz) flour
juice of 1 lemon
225g (8oz) puff pastry, defrosted if frozen
1 egg, beaten, to glaze
Method
1. Cut the eel into large pieces
2. Melt 25 g (1 oz) butter in a large saucepan and gently soften the finely chopped onion, Add the parsley, nutmeg and sherry, then add the eel and sufficient water just to cover. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
3. Bring slowly to the boil then, once at boiling point, remove the eel with a slotted spoon and place in a greased 1.25 litres/2 pints pie dish. Mix in the roughly chopped egg.
4. Blend the remaining butter with the flour to form a paste (beurre manie) and drop this into the eel liquid a little at a time.
5. Bring this sauce to the boil, add the lemon juice and check the seasoning. Pour the thickened sauce into the pie dish.
6. Roll out the pastry to make a lid and cover the pie dish. Brush with beaten egg and decorate, if liked, with any left-over pastry pieces.
7. Bake in a hot oven 220°c (425°f) gas 7 for 15 minutes, then reduce the temperature to moderately hot 190°c (375°f) gas 5 for a further 30 minutes.
Sounds good, except for the eel part.
Dear Jackie: I still remember a Christmas party at med school, when one of the Nisei students brought "unagi",
sliced smoked eel. It was so delicious, I still remember it
after more than fifty years. I've never been able to find
it since.
Unagi is my sushi of choice! Fully cooked, you can find it at most any sushi bar... and you're right, Bill, it's fantastic.
Fully cooked ? I thought sushi by definition meant raw. [provincial e]
The local smokehouse round here does smoked eel when John, the owner, can get the fresh eels.
They are truly scrumptious - much nicer than cooked eel.
>smoked eel
<Homer S>mmmmmmm, smoked eel</Homer S>
Mind you, I still prefer my eel cooked in a hangi.
I prefer damned near anything cooked in a hangi, Max. Maoridom's major contribution to the rest of the world, really!
>>fully cooked<<
me thinks sashimi is raw and sushi is served on rice, handformed or rolled(?) -- but may be cooked.
Yeah, what he said. I believe it refers more to the presentation style - the fish laid on the rice block with the seaweed strip wrapped around the whole thing. Unagi is especially nice because while it has a fishy texture, it doesn't have a fishy taste. I've convinced fish-haters to try it, and they've all found it quite acceptable (which is high praise if you just plain hate fish).
I've tried thta a number of times but I could never get 'em lit. Couldn't get them to drink those potent potables.
A "critic" is a man who creates nothing and thereby feels qualified to judge the work of creative men. There is logic in this; he is unbiased--he hates all creative people equally.
--Robert A. Heinlein, The Notebooks of Lazarus Long, Time Enough For Love