…Fried Mars Bars just don’t hack it, Mabel… #TBSU…

…call me a bit of a foodie snob if yeez like, but I’ve never been a devourer of that Scottish delicacy, Fried Mars Bars… not to say that the odd dozen mouthfuls of chocolate don’t have their attraction, ye understand… but sticking the confection of the Gods into a deep-frying chip pan just doesn’t seem right… when the Govan Docklands in Glasgow where I grew up were still lit by street- and tenement-closemouth gaslights, epicureans were an unknown breed… delicacies of the day back then included the fried scrapings from the large fryers in the chip shops, the wee crunchy bits that fell off the fried fish and gathered at the bottom… we’d get these free as kids… add a pickled onion, and ye had the supper of Nirvana… sometimes the backends of the plain bread, the one piece kind of loaf that came with ‘doorstoppers’ at the ends would end up in the pan, fried in lard… none of yer fancy organic vegetable oil nonsense… the wee corner stores, the forerunners of the modern 7/11 outlets would give ye massive discounts on broken biscuits… a collection of crumbs to some… a whole dinner to us… in Scotland the WURD ‘lunch’ was some strange meal eaten in South Britain … our midday meal was ‘dinner’, and the evening meal was yer ‘tea’ ‘high tea’ only appeared in posh houses, usually made up of daft wee sandwiches that wouldn’t feed a canary, and tea that wasn’t made from teabags…as a kid brought up in the city, I thought strawberries grew in tins, and came already drenched with sweet juice… pour in a a wee dod of milk, and that would keep ye drooling for days… salads were unheard of… vegetables were meant to populate soups and a never-ending stewing pot that yer Ma topped up every day with whatever digestible fare came to hand… and it was great… ye know, Mabel, there might be a fortune waiting for whoever opens a restaurant selling stuff the way we used to eat it… now where did I leave the indigestion tablets?… see yeez later…


Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

7 responses to “…Fried Mars Bars just don’t hack it, Mabel… #TBSU…

  1. I never know what to call any meal I’m eating. It’s very confusing. And as I don’t drink tea, calling anything tea sounds bizarre to me. Maybe I should limit myself to breakfast…that’s sort of clear. I’ve never tried a Mars Bar, never mind a fried one…


  2. Way down south in the USA, in my day, we had breakfast, dinner, and supper. Lunch was something yer Mama wrapped in wax paper and sent to work with Dad in a brown paper bag. Now it’s lunch and brunch and gawd only knows what else and thankfully, not a Mars bar in sight! Ah, but I’d give ya 50 bucks for a boxful of the crispies from the bottom of the fryer!


  3. laurie27wsmith

    That was all disturbingly familiar Seumas, oh and cracked eggs from the market.. Stew without meat and baked beans on toast. Ahh, the good ole days. 🙂 Love mars bars.


  4. ‘Well, for Frying Mars Bars’ sake — try just one, ‘Shame-us!’


  5. Pingback: …another wee one, found while editing, worth another share… #TBSU… | Seumas Gallacher

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