Walking through our local grocer last week, Lauren and I discovered the most unfortunately named product ever.
(Warning: this is another NOT SAFE FOR WORK UNLESS YOUR BOSS IS BRITISH entry.)
I was going to bring my camera to the store to document the existance of this particular foodstuff, but somebody has saved me the trouble. A photo of the package can be found here.
I can attest from first-hand experience that this is an actual, undoctored picture of an actual food item. Or perhaps I should say “food” item, since I haven’t actually consumed this alleged food myself, and have no intention of doing so.
What is most impressive to me is that every single word of the product’s name seems calculated for maximum unappetizingness. Was the manufacturer so overwhelmed with orders that they had to choose the brand name “Mr. Brains” just to scare a few people off? And just what is in that rich West Country sauce?
The manufacturers of Mr. Brain’s have selected an official family to increase the public’s appreciation of this unique British product. The fact that the surname of the Official Family is “Doody” makes me think this whole thing is some sort of elaborate prank by the entire nation of Great Britain.
ODE TO THE FAGGOT.
What a wonderous thing is the Faggot,
Made of things that the squeamish eschew,
Such as kidneys and trotters and innards,
(These turn up in sausages, too).
‘No’, you cry, ‘I will only eat beefsteak,
For offal’s too awful for words’.
But, my friend, a rump steak is
Bull’s bottom,
So your preference, Sir, is absurd.
So sing ‘Rah!’ for the jolly old faggot,
Serves with glutinous gravy and peas,
For the English have long been sustained by
Such glorious morsels as these.
Praise to whelks, tripe and onions, black puddings,
Mushy peas, home-made brawn, jellied eels.
Are you really trying to tell me
That none of these dishes appeal?.
I will gladly supply recipes for the dishes in my Ode if you are tempted….
Caroline.
That’s a wonderful poem! Is that an original work?
Yup, all my own work. I’m not quite sure I would elevate it to the rank of ‘poem’. Doggerel, perhaps. Although I did once win a Times Diary competition run by Giles Coren for a pastiche of AA Milne. (A Disney toy Tigger that when it had its tummy pressed said, ‘wanker’ and caused a bit of a stir).
James James Morrison Morrison Wetherby George Dupree,
Suddenly said the word ‘wanker’,
Though he was only three.
James James said to his Mother,
Mother he said, said he,
I see that you frown
At my Choice of a noun-
It’s Tiggers’s fault.
Don’t look at me.
I’m pretty sure the word was applied to the meat(ish) foodstuff before it became offensive slang… No-one ever seems to be able to come up with a definitive etymology, though!