Flavour of the month
What better way can there be to indulge a vice than by legitimising it. This is why magazines like 'Decanter' exist, so that journalists with black teeth and no points left on their driving license can share their thoughts about booze with the sort of people who use their ability to tell the difference between chardonay and merlot to justify the making of that distinction at half eleven in the morning on a week day on a regular basis.
And why not go one better than getting a magazine about your hobby delivered once a month and actually get your hobby delivered once a month. There are, for instance, schemes you can join where once a month you get a crate of the 'wines of the world' delivered. I've never seen the point in getting a crate of booze chosen by somebody else, as there's always the lurking suspicion that it just happens to be whatever was going cheap at the cash and carry that month. Worse still, one would live in horror of opening the crate to discover that this month has been designated 'wines of Latvia', 'a taste of Croydon' or something similarly ghastly. This is often delivered with tasting notes and these are important because without those you are just a bloke that has booze, and random booze at that, delivered once a month.
The same might be said of book clubs. Once a month you are reading something that has been chosen by somebody else and instead of a tasting note you are expected to give your opinion while in a group of people all trying desperately to sound as though they read it all the way through, understood it and are not in fact relying upon the Wikipedia entry, the film adaption or, if you really want to live dangerously, the soundtrack to the film adaption and nothing else.
The '...of the month club' is endlessly adaptable. At the dull end of the market is the 'mobile phone bill of the month', then you go through stuff that you consume, like food and drink (the fruit of the month club is an especially interesting proposition. I love the idea of some sort of fruit arriving in the post, possibly packed in straw, and not having bloody clue what it is, how to eat it or even how to pronounce it). And of course at the slightly sinister end of the market for the sort of people who buy 'true crime' magazines, you could be posted a random, blood stained object and have to work out for yourself what horror you've just become implicated in.
The one thing that the format of a monthly delivery of something chosen by somebody else has going for it is novelty. Given half a chance, I'd probably eat the same seven meals every night of the week year in, year out. If you think seven sounds pretty good, bear in mind that I'm counting at least one dish twice, because pie and chips is different to chips and pie, right? So why not have pie clubs, where once a month you get a pie of a flavour not of your choosing delivered. For instance, I always go for chicken and mushroom, always, and why not? But am I denying myself a more fulfilling experience?
Is there anything so really wrong in eating the same seven meals since I was twenty anyway? Especially when you consider that what I am actually seeking to do is perfect the recipes for those meals. The latest challenge is pasta sauce and it's now reached the point where I am adding so many extras to the recipe that, technically, I'm not sure that it can be classed as a sauce any more.
I'm also staring to wonder if the ability to experiment with cooking breaks down along gender lines. Blokes are far more likely to deviate from the recipe simply because they can comfortably think things like 'humn, no tomatoes in the house, and I can't be arsed to walk to the shops, I'll use bacon instead'. Women have a different view of diet, considering that different daily fillings in a baked potato constitutes variety.
And why not go one better than getting a magazine about your hobby delivered once a month and actually get your hobby delivered once a month. There are, for instance, schemes you can join where once a month you get a crate of the 'wines of the world' delivered. I've never seen the point in getting a crate of booze chosen by somebody else, as there's always the lurking suspicion that it just happens to be whatever was going cheap at the cash and carry that month. Worse still, one would live in horror of opening the crate to discover that this month has been designated 'wines of Latvia', 'a taste of Croydon' or something similarly ghastly. This is often delivered with tasting notes and these are important because without those you are just a bloke that has booze, and random booze at that, delivered once a month.
The same might be said of book clubs. Once a month you are reading something that has been chosen by somebody else and instead of a tasting note you are expected to give your opinion while in a group of people all trying desperately to sound as though they read it all the way through, understood it and are not in fact relying upon the Wikipedia entry, the film adaption or, if you really want to live dangerously, the soundtrack to the film adaption and nothing else.
The '...of the month club' is endlessly adaptable. At the dull end of the market is the 'mobile phone bill of the month', then you go through stuff that you consume, like food and drink (the fruit of the month club is an especially interesting proposition. I love the idea of some sort of fruit arriving in the post, possibly packed in straw, and not having bloody clue what it is, how to eat it or even how to pronounce it). And of course at the slightly sinister end of the market for the sort of people who buy 'true crime' magazines, you could be posted a random, blood stained object and have to work out for yourself what horror you've just become implicated in.
The one thing that the format of a monthly delivery of something chosen by somebody else has going for it is novelty. Given half a chance, I'd probably eat the same seven meals every night of the week year in, year out. If you think seven sounds pretty good, bear in mind that I'm counting at least one dish twice, because pie and chips is different to chips and pie, right? So why not have pie clubs, where once a month you get a pie of a flavour not of your choosing delivered. For instance, I always go for chicken and mushroom, always, and why not? But am I denying myself a more fulfilling experience?
Is there anything so really wrong in eating the same seven meals since I was twenty anyway? Especially when you consider that what I am actually seeking to do is perfect the recipes for those meals. The latest challenge is pasta sauce and it's now reached the point where I am adding so many extras to the recipe that, technically, I'm not sure that it can be classed as a sauce any more.
I'm also staring to wonder if the ability to experiment with cooking breaks down along gender lines. Blokes are far more likely to deviate from the recipe simply because they can comfortably think things like 'humn, no tomatoes in the house, and I can't be arsed to walk to the shops, I'll use bacon instead'. Women have a different view of diet, considering that different daily fillings in a baked potato constitutes variety.
Labels: Collecting, Food
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