Bitch on the Blog

June 6, 2018


Early this evening I cut off seven heads. I then gutted the bodies. Butterflied them by gently pressing my hand down the back of their spine and removing same, namely their backbone. And, no, I did’t call any of them Nick by the time they were spineless. I doused them with hot smoked pepper and fried them in olive oil. Served with Padron peppers and other full in your face delicacies.

Yes, sometimes you need to bloody your hands before stuffing your face. Admittedly I only do this with fish. Possibly because, when very very very young (between the age of five and later) I went fishing with my grandfather. First we dug dewy earth and caught the early morning’s worm. Then we set out. On a rowing boat.  In the middle of the (small) lake he’d cast the line. And we’d wait. Quietly. Smiling at each other in conspiracy. I think watching my grandfather reeling in fish of some size – giving a little slack, reeling in, giving a little slack, reeling in, slack, patience and calm – is how I learned to conduct my relationships.

Back at the shore, bucket with fish unloaded, poured onto the grass, my grandfather showed me how to kill. Tool being a piece of fairly substantial wood. Essentially, a bit like Agatha Christie and the butler in the library, a wack at a precise spot just below the back of the head the most benign way to be dispatched if you are a fish. After the gutting, it was over to my grandmother to fry them into a feast. Happy memories.

Six of tonight’s fish heads looked resigned to their fate, Zen like. Number seven looked astonished (mouth wide open). Know how he felt. Whilst I tend to keep my mouth shut other than when smiling (default mode) I too am astonished at times what life has in store for you.



March 24, 2017

Hop Scotch

What of the theory that certain character traits and talents do tend to skip a generation? Do you think it bollocks or can you cement the above with examples of your own life’s experience?


January 23, 2010

Saving graces

Filed under: Food,Fortune,History — bitchontheblog @ 07:23
Tags: , , , , ,

My grandparents weren’t church goers but had me say grace before every main meal  of the day (which in our house was at lunchtime). A few lines to recite, short and simple; I loved the tingle of anticipation.

If only they were still around I’d surprise them with what I found a minute ago, in a book first published 1947.

Bless the meat, Damn the skin. Open your mouth And cram it in.

None of today’s diet nonsense. Had they lived longer they’d be turning in their graves at calorie counting; they knew how to starve, during and post war (twice); and had the grace to count their blessings afterwards.

I could cry; which, since Saturday is my day off my self-prescribed blogging identity, I now will in memory of  two people who made my early life a happy one.


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