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He eats junk food, but in style. A segment of perfectly grilled fish finger with a light drizzle of ketchup.


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Well-known member
best part is my uncle is French, and he had no idea it was cat food until the next day when they looked closely at the empty can.

Mr. Tea

"can't soundclash" according to a VERY HARD MAN
You ever seen Marco Pierre White's Oxford Union address? He's a cunt, but he's quite a good public speaker and talks about how his dad made him go knock on the door of every hotel kitchen he could find until one of them gave him a job and that's how he got started.

I can't not think of the 'how to' cooking videos he's got on YouTube which are really just very long adverts for Knorr Stock Pots, with comments under them saying things like "If you pause it at 7:13 you can see the exact moment his soul dies" and "Marco, blink twice if you're being held hostage."


A day out culminating in dinner so I'm putting it here... a few years ago we drove through a town called Santarem a half hour train journey from Lisbon. Since then we've had it in the back of our minds to check it out properly, and also to try out an interesting looking restaurant we saw there.

Finally yesterday we did it, 33 min by train but it felt like another dimension, as though we'd travelled back in time to a quieter, slower world where the crowds and pace of Lisbon were almost unimaginable - like Narnia without a talking lion.

The whole town is on a plateau above these plains and the highest point is at these mad walled gardens called Portas do Sol which give you a view for what seems like hundreds of miles in several directions over the plains.

The bit I really wanted to mention was this house/museum thing that doesn't belong in any thread, but I made this post to describe it really.

It's a private residence next to the gardens which had been converted into a museum. You ring the doorbell and enter the garden to be greeted by this old guy (approaching 90 I think he said) who told us it would be 5 euros to show us round - at that I was immediately looking for an excuse... but luckily I couldn't think of one and so I was trapped, forced to experience the whole amazing thing.

It was a conflicting experience in some sense as well cos this old guy actually lives there and while parts of it were a gallery or museum, other bits were his actual living space.

The thing is he was really lively, interesting and so on, but at the same time I couldn't help thinking that he was living alone in this huge space and probably hoping people rang the bell to provide him with company. I suppose I'm saying that although it was great fun, at the same time it was also tinged with sadness in the background.

Anyway, matey showed us and a couple who came in just after the whole place in great detail for two hours - and it was brilliant! He was a grandson (or great grandson?) of former president Passos Manuel (we DJ-d in a club named after him in Porto) and he proved a fantastically entertaining host with countless anecdotes from his fascinating life. There were artworks by his friends including pictures they'd done of guests such as Marcel Duchamp and Man Ray and also pictures of him, there was a book he'd written and all kinds of amazing furniture and artworks and maps from Japan, Africa etc etc

Anyway, dinner, we finally made it to the restaurant which was totally different from what we had imagined, in fact maybe it had changed since we saw it before, it certainly wasn't the simple rustic fare one might expect in such a town.

Either way was poncey food but amazing taste... I won't list it all but the first amuse bouche was these tiny dry river prawns that were noticeably different from the sea ones we normally eat. I remember a cylinder of rabbit liver and other bits and pieces, the meaty pate in a mini tortilla and a sea to lake ceviche cone and... before a sumptuous main of veal cheeks and turnip puree.









Now of course I know the above will go down like a bucket of sick with most of you but, of course, that's half the fun of posting it.