There’s A Smell In The Air

…and no, it’s not the smell of cooking vegan burgers:

Britons are turning away from meat with a majority backing subsidies for plant-based alternatives, according to the RSPCA.

New figures suggest a revolution in eating habits for a nation that was previously defined by its love of roast beef and a fry-ups, with their bacon, sausages and eggs.

A study sponsored by the animal charity found 58 per cent have taken steps to eliminate or reduce their own meat consumption.

Uh huh.  I bet the study was taken in Islington, among people seen leaving vegetarian and vegan restaurants, and duh!  it’s coming from the RSPCA, hardly an unbiased organization.

That smell?  Ah yes:  it’s non-vegan bullshit.

All this, among actual data showing that vegan (i.e. fake meat) food-producing companies are in financial difficulties if not going out of business altogether, ditto vegan restaurants and so on.

But if you repeat the lie often enough, it becomes the truth.  [cf. climate change, Josef Goebbels]


No Accounting

It’s interesting how different nations will take the same ingredients, eat them a certain way, and strange looks (or sometimes, gagging noises) will ensue from others who can’t see it being eaten that way.

Take for example Britishland’s favorite, the prawn sandwich:

Most Murkins, at this point, are going “Say what?”  while the Frogs are going “Quoi?”  (with added lip curl).

Of course, New Englanders eat lobster on bread rolls, so we’re not that far apart — but Old Englanders would look askance at that because for them, lobster is strictly a main course, e.g. the Thermidor:

Back onto the prawn thing, though:  even I, a committed Anglophile, have to admit to a little puzzlement at prawn sarnies, accustomed as I am — as are most other Murkins — to seeing shrimp (or prawns, for that matter), in a cocktail or as an appetizer:

All that said, I could see myself eating shrimp on, say, a croissant:

…because a croissant is more like pastry than a prosaic slice of Wonderbread.

Okay, is anyone else starting to feel hungry?  For a chip butty (UK’s #2), maybe?

(a.k.a. carbs squared)

Two nations, divided by a common food. [sigh]

It’s enough to put a man off his breakfast gin.  (Or is that just my favorite?)


Well, this is interesting:

Anheuser-Busch heir Billy Busch said he would be the first to buy back Bud Light should the beer’s parent company AB InBev want to sell it.

“If they don’t want that brand any longer, sell it back to the Busch family,” Busch told Outkick host Tomi Lahren. “Sell it to me. I’ll be the first in line to buy that brand back from you, and we’ll make that brand great again.”

Busch explained how disheartening it has been to watch the beer brand, which was so much a part of his childhood, lose its legacy of valuing its customers and employees.

“That culture is completely gone now,” Busch said. “They knew who their drinkers were. … Even my dad at 89 years old, 90 years old, he was still going to the bars selling Budweiser back in those days.”

“We’ve always cared very, very much about the people in America. What made this company great was America, of course,” he continued.

Busch added that AB InBev has missed the mark in knowing its customer base.

“When you are a foreign company and you rely on these woke students that are coming out of these local colleges to do your advertising for you, you’re making a big mistake,” he noted.

Even if they got Bud Light back, I still wouldn’t buy it because it’s shit beer, but that’s not the point.

I don’t know if anyone knows this, but Auggie Busch (Augustus III) has been a lifelong supporter of concealed carry — mostly, it should be said, because of the need to protect his delivery drivers from hijacking.  The family has always been true-blue (red?) American (unusual for a wealthy family) and intensely patriotic, always with traditional values very much in evidence.  A cursory look at older Budweiser ads — the pre-woke ones, that is — will bear that out.

And was there any better or more American an institution than this?

Oh, and if Billy wants a new relaunch payoff line for his acquisition, here it is:

Same Beer, Different Attitude!

Yer welcome.

Poking Fun

I like the way this guy works:

Ben Reid, from England, recently spent a few weeks on holiday around Italy and learned that many locals were quite specific about their food.

The English man was constantly chastised for making ‘adjustments’ to his meals – such as dipping his croissant in coffee, and pouring water into his espresso.

Ben eventually started ‘trolling’ strangers with bizarre acts. 

However, the act that evoked the most condemnation was cutting spaghetti with scissors.

Two waiters actually went up to Ben and told him he ‘wasn’t allowed’ to consume his food like that.

‘You have to roll the pasta with your fork, you cannot cut it with scissors. People will think you’re an idiot,’ the waiter said, and then confiscated the scissors.

Brilliant.  I’m just surprised he wasn’t scolded for not having a glass of wine with his dinner.

I do the same kind of thing in Chinese restaurants by using a fork instead of chopsticks.  Let ’em sneer or roll their eyes, I don’t care.

Old But Still Funny

I remember reading this and crying with laughter, many years ago.  Enjoy.

“Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge’s table, asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in… I was assured by the other two judges (Native New Mexicans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy; and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and became Judge 3.”

Here are the scorecard notes from the event:


Judge # 1 — A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 — Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) — Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that’s the worst one. These New Mexicans are crazy.


Judge # 1 — Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 — Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 — Keep this out of the reach of children. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.


Judge # 1 — Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.
Judge # 2 — A bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 — Call the EPA. I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting red-faced from all of the beer.


Judge # 1 — Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 — Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 — I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. This 300 lb. Woman is starting to look HOT… just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?


Judge # 1 — Meaty, strong chili. Jalapeno peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 — Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the jalapeno peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 — My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted, and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I’m burning my lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming.


Judge # 1 — Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 — The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3 — My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I’m worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can’t feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.


Judge # 1 — A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 — Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment (**I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.)
Judge # 3 — You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing. It’s too painful. I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.


Judge # 1 — The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 — This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor fella, wonder how he’d have reacted to really hot chili?
Judge # 3 — No report.

For some reason, I’m really lusting after chili now.  I think I’ll make me some. #NoFuckingBeans

Attention Biltong-Lovers

Here’s a decent little video about making a decent piece of biltong.  The spices and mixes are exactly the same as mine (see below), and the only areas where we differ are that I make much bigger pieces so that the inside is much wetter than his (New Wife likes her biltong very wet), and I don’t use hot chili flakes (New Wife doesn’t like very hot foods).

At the end, the guy exclaims that he can eat biltong all day, like that’s something unusual.  If I leave it lying out on the cutting board, New Wife and I can gobble a stick a day, so I have to hide the damn stuff so that we forget about it.

Just remember that when you eat biltong, the dried meat expands in your stomach back to its original size.  I ration myself to about 8-12 slices per day.  Back in my Army days, I could make a stick last a week, and not lose a pound of weight.

I’m going to make some tomorrow.  It’s been a week already since the last lot, and the natives are getting restless.

Ingredients, per 1lb of raw meat:

  • 8 tbsp red wine vinegar/brown apple cider vinegar
  • 1.5-2 tbsp coarse (kosher) salt
  • 2 tsp coarse ground black pepper
  • 2-3 tbsp whole coriander seeds