In the Rankin Clan (our surname is Phenna but we still think of ourselves as Rankins because the other lot are just weird) there was an unwritten buffet menu that you had to adhere to or risk family scandal.
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| What the ??? |
This was in the nutritional heyday of the 1970s when we kids drank gallons of Kia Ora, ate Vesta Chow Mein and had never seen a Kiwi fruit.
There were frequent Clan gatherings for Christmas, New Year, birthdays, wedding anniversaries or in Ekky's case, "Look Who's Made Yet Another Miraculous Recovery" event.
You had to prepare/serve at least half a dozen of the following items or there would be raised eyebrows in the kitchen.
Salad. Salad in the 1970s was lettuce, cucumber and tomato. Absolutely no deviation whatsoever, nobody had heard of rocket let alone balsamic drizzle. Not a bit of olive oil or lemon juice either, it was Heinz Salad Cream or nothing.
Sliced bread and butter on a plate. God forbid your guests could apply their own butter to a slice of bread.
Celery sticks in a jug. What the FUCK was that all about?
A tin of salmon decanted into a bowl. Approximately five inches in width, one tin was supposed to feed about 50 kids and adults. If you were showing off you scraped the bones out the middle first.
One packet of Cadbury's chocolate fingers arranged in a wheel shaped display.
Rank cheesey footballs. I think they used to come in the Christmas hamper. They were in a blue tin and tasted like they'd been stored down some old bloke's trousers for a few weeks.
Chicken legs, mountain of. Cooked with absolutely no seasoning, not even a bit of salt or pepper.
Mini sausage rolls. The ones with cough-inducing pastry.
Gala pie.
Ready salted crisps in a bowl. You couldn't have cheese and onion or salt and vinegar because the al' ones didn't like them.
A Bird's trifle. Of course, you tried to make it look posh by discarding the hundreds and thousands and used a Flake as decoration.
A frozen Black Forest Gateaux. Still frozen in the middle.
Cheese and pineapple on cocktail sticks. You know the thing wrapped in foil they were mounted on? It was half a cabbage, and you probably ate it for your tea the next day with pig shanks.
Jacob's Cream Crackers. Even the dog found them hard going.
Vol Au Vents, filled with what looked like sick.
Egg and cress sandwiches on white Mother's Pride.
Tinned ham. Think this came in the Chrizzie hamper too, it was ringed with some absolutely vile jelly that still makes me retch when I think about it.
Pickled onions, beetroot, Piccalilli, Branston, HP Sauce.
The only way you could cope with this quantity of crap catering was to get blind drunk and then attack the buffet table. You wouldn't eat a kebab if you were sober would you? This was the same principal. Neck as much Cinzano or Watney's Party Seven as you could, grab your plate and do it for Mother Ireland.
Mother gave me her own chrome/glass salad bowl with accompanying salad servers a couple of years ago. I feel an overwhelming urge to start squirting Primula cheese onto Ritz crackers every time I look at it.
There were frequent Clan gatherings for Christmas, New Year, birthdays, wedding anniversaries or in Ekky's case, "Look Who's Made Yet Another Miraculous Recovery" event.
You had to prepare/serve at least half a dozen of the following items or there would be raised eyebrows in the kitchen.
Salad. Salad in the 1970s was lettuce, cucumber and tomato. Absolutely no deviation whatsoever, nobody had heard of rocket let alone balsamic drizzle. Not a bit of olive oil or lemon juice either, it was Heinz Salad Cream or nothing.
Sliced bread and butter on a plate. God forbid your guests could apply their own butter to a slice of bread.
Celery sticks in a jug. What the FUCK was that all about?
A tin of salmon decanted into a bowl. Approximately five inches in width, one tin was supposed to feed about 50 kids and adults. If you were showing off you scraped the bones out the middle first.
One packet of Cadbury's chocolate fingers arranged in a wheel shaped display.
Rank cheesey footballs. I think they used to come in the Christmas hamper. They were in a blue tin and tasted like they'd been stored down some old bloke's trousers for a few weeks.
Chicken legs, mountain of. Cooked with absolutely no seasoning, not even a bit of salt or pepper.
Mini sausage rolls. The ones with cough-inducing pastry.
Gala pie.
Ready salted crisps in a bowl. You couldn't have cheese and onion or salt and vinegar because the al' ones didn't like them.
A Bird's trifle. Of course, you tried to make it look posh by discarding the hundreds and thousands and used a Flake as decoration.
A frozen Black Forest Gateaux. Still frozen in the middle.
Cheese and pineapple on cocktail sticks. You know the thing wrapped in foil they were mounted on? It was half a cabbage, and you probably ate it for your tea the next day with pig shanks.
Jacob's Cream Crackers. Even the dog found them hard going.
Vol Au Vents, filled with what looked like sick.
Egg and cress sandwiches on white Mother's Pride.
Tinned ham. Think this came in the Chrizzie hamper too, it was ringed with some absolutely vile jelly that still makes me retch when I think about it.
Pickled onions, beetroot, Piccalilli, Branston, HP Sauce.
The only way you could cope with this quantity of crap catering was to get blind drunk and then attack the buffet table. You wouldn't eat a kebab if you were sober would you? This was the same principal. Neck as much Cinzano or Watney's Party Seven as you could, grab your plate and do it for Mother Ireland.
Mother gave me her own chrome/glass salad bowl with accompanying salad servers a couple of years ago. I feel an overwhelming urge to start squirting Primula cheese onto Ritz crackers every time I look at it.
Greetings Phen, just wanted to add, I have had the dubious honour of ingesting all of the above culinary "treats" and would rather listen to a fucking Justin Bieber album than ever go there again.
ReplyDeleteHows it going with you, Im not missing CMS one tiny bit, at your earliest convenience you might do me a little favour and shove LN arsefirst down the metal stairs, thanks a mill . e
Hi Eamon - it wasn't just us then? There were shite buffets across Western Europe? Things ok - still an high level of stupidity back at the Salt Mine but it makes you feel better about yourself. As for your request - it's an Easter Bogoff on GBH so leave it with me. Ffen.
ReplyDeleteKnew I could count on you Phen , Im sure given your lineage you had mucho experience of Irish cuisine, cholestrol was not an isue in the good ol 70's.
ReplyDeleteI've eaten as much bacon, cabbage and spuds as any Mayo resident. In fact, an awful lot of pig products.
ReplyDelete