Manchester Foodies Political Intolerance

I was racking my brain for a more punchy title, obviously based around food intolerance, etc. so all ideas are welcome.  This one is certainly less click-bait than the original “The Bigots of the Manchester Craft scene.”

Plus it needs to be said that I have no idea if the title is grammatically correct, meh.

One of my mates is actually an entrepreneur of the burgeoning food scene in Manchester and he too charges astronomical prices for what is a simple product to make and sell and fair play to him.  Fair play to all of them, if you can mug someone off for triple the price and let your confidence trick of more cash must equal better product than have at it, fools and their money.

But as I’ve droned on about before, business and politics don’t mix and said friend in a WhatsApp chat posted this picture…

I wonder if Slowthai will make an appearance?

You just know that all the food and drink available there will be so salty from the tears that Sally Davies would be shutting the event down on the grounds of it being hazardous to health.

And why couldn’t a charity event be held on a weekend, perhaps the rich pickings of the weekend crowd are far too much to give up for the homeless.  Then again Tuesday is a nothing day so I suppose it has less challenges for attention.

As far as I’m aware the #pleaseleavemytown is a reference to this…

 

A typically British confrontation; quietly reserved, passive-aggression met with passive acceptance and droll humour.

“My town” – one bloke with a personal opinion.  Not bubbled seals harping on thinking they speak for everyone.

Still, please leave is quite comparable to “go back to where you came from” and speaking to power is fine, speaking to simple members and voters is just a question of punching in every direction other than up but that is what we’ve become, when simple differences of opinion can see the use of certain words lose all meaning from over use and in completely the wrong context.

More civilised that the way Antifa behave at least…

Still homelessness is worthy enough cause to contribute to, after all its proponents are the first to resist the craft beer wave; why bother paying £10 for a half of an imperial stout or TIPA, when you can mix and match four cans of Kestrel, Skol, Tennent’s and Carlsberg Super Strength for the same price.

 

In other fake news, it turns out both Grub and Indy Man Beer Festival had to issue retractions recently.  Happy they were that rather than the white and middle class turning up to all their events, they finally managed to attract their first paying black and arab customers.

Sadly, on all occasions it turned out to be Justin Trudeau.

 

Thanks for reading.

The Lying, Milkshaking Brewer?

I’ve written about this new form of apparent political protest called Milkshaking only a fortnight ago and therefore wasn’t planning on needing to do it again but call it serendipity that I was on a break when the news broke than while in Newcastle (Geordie one, not Stoke one) the Brexit Party leader Nigel Farage was the latest victim of a cup full of lactose.

Apparently a £5.25 Five Guys, banana and salted caramel one because nothing says up the socialist revolution than paying big corporations your money in order to waste food throwing it on someone you don’t agree with because, well you either don’t have a good enough argument to counter their rhetoric, or you’re just a bit of a thug.

I’ve talked many times about beer and politics – they really don’t mix but it is your business so if you wish to possible have a detrimental impact on your income then go ahead and spread your wonderful insights to your prospective buyers.

Rather ironically, milkshake beers are a bit of a thing at the moment (or were, I don’t know how quickly the trend has changed already).  So, in that woke way that a lot of 20 year old brewers or 50 year olds who think they are 20 do, there will be a slew of puntastic beer names out there with a political slant.

  • The Revolution will be Pasteurised (which I can’t take credit for)
  • Nige’s shakes bring all the fascicts to the yard (yeah, I’m sure that riff is being played to death)
  • Farage Milkshake, he did Nazi that coming (I’m claiming this one).

What caught my attention was that some bloke with the twitter handle had taken responsibility for it and was, at the time I looked getting praise (not from other brewers I should add).

A quick look through his past conversations, because by some quirk my old phone means I can views twitter like a website without even being logged in (and I left that cesspit a good while ago) means a lot of my old beer bubble bros were having some banter with him.

Cue the end of the day and I have another quick scan to find that said twitter account is now locked and, as per twitter mobs (the “left” and “right” being no different in their hysteria) I noted old tweets screen-grabbed for posterity and photos from the account being shared.

I’m not going to do that here but from what I’ve seen, in a quick comparison between the twitter bloke and the pictures of the bloke that was arrested, they aren’t the same person.

Which then leads to the question…

What kind of wazzock actually takes credit for a criminal act they didn’t even do?

Do they not know how twitter works?  Yes you may well get woke points from strangers and a few follows but is it really worth it for the inevitable backlash and threats that will come your way?

What a pillock, and given how the twitter game works, if the left made the rules of guilt by association then it is quite possible that a few of the rather decent people I left behind on that shit-hole of a website may well be getting dragged, dog-piled or whatever else the slightly unhinged and permanently enraged do when they are online.

The face palming is mighty tonight.

Stay safe and drink well.

 

Thanks for reading.

Manchester Public Transport Part 1 – The Scourge of Guardianista

I’ll get this out of my system first because Part 2 (whenever I get around to writing it) will be actually about the public transport system in (Greater) Manchester but as things stand now, I’ll just take this moment to laugh at a typically deluded Guardian journo, who now seems to be on a bit of a crusade after the shock of bus fares in the county hit home.

Given the begging letters you see when you ever visit the “newspaper’s” website, I take it that expenses are a bit short for the Guardian’s staff these days.  Either that or they themselves aren’t employees, meh I don’t care, it’s your life.

 

It’s the self-flagellation that always gets me.  The unnecessary virtue signal and moan about first world problems and then the moment of realisation that, all your own morals are expendable when broken down into the realities of hard cash.

Damn this capitalism, nationalise everything all ready.

I’d have slightly more sympathy for her supposed plight if she hadn’t followed it up with this:

“How can I possibly be expected to walk a bit in order to pay over the odds for bog standard food at restaurant prices when I’ve had to fork out for a bus an Uber.”

Life is what you make it.

 

Thanks for reading.

 

Mark The Date – I Defend Jamie Oliver

I am not a fan of Jamie Oliver

And although he is quite easy to ignore on a personal level, his random food campaigns which have such a high influence on government policy, can not be ignored.

The holier than thou one does like to pillor (pillar) the poor with his constant attacking of their choices of food and drink and then the subsequent legislation handed down by government the only way it knows, put taxes on it to nudge people off it.

It is social engineering and its most base; carried out, enforced and cheered on by the snobby elite.

But just because I don’t like the guy doesn’t mean I shouldn’t defend him from even more spurious attacks.

Jamie is currently under tweet attack for cultural appropriation

Rice is the problem.  Microwave rice.  Microwave Jamaican Jerk rice to be precise.

Launching this attack was Dawn Butler. Heiress to the throne of Diane Abbott, David Lammy without the penis (yes, I assume her gender to be female).

White people can’t do Jamaican dishes.  Behind the scenes of every Pizza Hut and Dominoes there are hordes of Italians slaving away.  Yep, even in those kebab houses the pizza’s are only cooked by Italians, the kebabs by the Turks and the burgers are only prepared by Germans, specifically from Hamburg.

Though we can walk this back and away from slurs of racism and just make it about the ingredients.

Gate open.  Horse bolted.  And is now being prepared for consumption by someone who is hopefully French. Or South American. Or whatever.

 

Thanks for reading.

Northern Ireland – Beer and…Bass

Just a brief write up of a recent trip I had around Northern Ireland, hopefully not mentioning politics (past or current) and with no pictures of The Dark Hedges, Giant’s Causeway, boats, mountains, flags, sectarian gift shops and murals.

 

Larne

 

Larne is an odd place, eerily quiet on the Saturday night when I visited but the first thing I saw on the high street set the tone for beer (kind of) for the rest of the trip.

If you are ever in Larne, eat at Carriages, they feed you well, the feed you very, very well.

Portrush

The wondrous thing about many of the bars, pubs and restaurants I went into across the nation was that as well as the usual macro beers that everyone knows and loves the representation from local breweries was very well represented.

To dine (as opposed to takeaway) in Portrush is to seemingly have a choice between 6 restaurants all owned by the same company but the food was great as were the choices of beers but this place came alive when I found a place called Kiwi’s.

All towns (big or small) in Northern Ireland seem to work on some daft one way, pedestrianised system which directs cars on the longest route possible to find the smallest amount of car park spaces, not good if you are there for a few hours, makes sense if you are staying overnight.

Lacada brewery is the community brewery based in Portrush (community brewing seems to be big across all of NI) and to their credit, and that of many of the other businesses in Portrush, their beers were to be found in most outlets.  Kiwis itself has a wide selection of beers micro and macro plus the obligatory gin selection too.

Portstewart

People here can not drive and that is all I have to say, they also don’t like working late either so just stay in Portrush.

Derry (LondonDerry)

For my sins I only passed through Derry, on the way to the north part of Southern Ireland, it looked like quite a nice place to stop off, maybe next time.

Newry

 

The Stoke of Northern Ireland, a place simultaneously bustling and run-down. Welcoming and hostile. Where the Tesco sells a fine mix of many local breweries.

3.7% – who knew?

Mourne Mountains / Warrenpoint

Visit the Silent Valley – take insect repellent and a few beers.

Comber / Newtownards

Again many nice pubs and restaurants, quite a few carrying local beers from Bullhouse and Farmageddon.  Lots of ancient ruins and scary locals off the beaten tracks so lock your doors when you drive around Ballydrain.

Belfast

Driving into Belfast I could smell beer being brewed.  It is the exact smell you get as you drive into Cheetham Hill (Holt’s) or back down the Irk Valley (Blackjack & Runaway).  Sometimes I even mistake it for the smell of cooked liver.

Lovely pub.  And the only cask pint I found (Hilden Brewery, take a bow and the pub, it was a great pint).

Obviously a capital city has many pubs to choose from and also a wide choice of beers.  Apart from The Sunflower I was very taken by the John Hewitt and of course, The Crown

I’d take pictures of the inside but I’m more interested in the drinking, quite ethereal in here.

Bass

Bass (keg) was prevalent in many of the places I visited.  There seems to be some tie in to Tennents, possibly when both were on by InBev.

So there you have it.  Northern Ireland; a place of fine natural scenery, good hostelries, many, many flags, red triangles, big red T’s, fake retro Guinness pumps, potatoes, so many potatoes and me trying not to sing out loud lyrics to Stiff Little Fingers songs.

One final thing…

 

Public signs for dog fouling seem to all have to display the actual mess, either falling out or a steaming pile of it next to the cartoon dog…it is the small things in life…

 

Thanks for reading.

Life – Its Just Space Between Chippy Teas

There is nothing so great a the Friday night chippy tea, a sign that the working week has ended and the weekend starts now.

This assumes that most people still work a standard 9-5, Monday to Friday week. Oh and that you know that tea is the evening meal in this instance, not the drink.

Breakfast, dinner, tea – that is how it goes, with supper being a post bed snack. You can throw in elevenses if you wish.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner – that is how some others refer to it but these are the type of people that probably order “lightly- battered” fish and they deserve to never be indulged.

Fun fact, the more batter the healthier the fish is as the less oil that gets to it, so if you don’t want too much batter in your diet just eat less of it.  Don’t order it with less and then became a bit distressed that you have to wait while 5 normal people are served before you because “we’re still waiting on your fish.”

I’m blessed with an inordinate amount of chip outlets near me, even all the Chinese takeaways do a fairly good stab at it and whereas the chips and peas are good, the fish is pants but that is OK because I’m a pie, pudding and/or sausage person at this time of the week.

I’m not going to bore you with a load of local slang terms for the food you can get a chip shops, it serves no one in the long run and it just cultural appropriation.

The closest chippy to me did the most wondrous thing recently and decided to open in the evenings every day (except Sundays), I’ve yet to have chippy every day yet but I will build up to that.  I’ve not attempted it yet, not because of some health reason but because the Friday night chippy tea is still a special event for me.

The amount of cars parked outside the chip shop is a usually a fair indication of the queuing status.  As is watching people parking up, leaving and walking.  Each act done with an misplaced, increased level of stress that chips should not really cause as each character tries desperately to get into the chip shop, get home to eat, or beat the other foot soldiers who also valiantly increase their walking pace to get higher up in the queue.

One thing I’ve never learnt, how you wrap up left over chips they way they were presented to you originally.  The wrapping style associated with chip shop paper is like unfolded origami, it makes little sense with just a creased, 2-D piece of slightly fatty paper looking back at you.

The good thing is its now the weekend, which means dinner time chippy.

 

Thanks for reading.