My Mum taught me a lot of things that would prove invaluable to me in later life, like, for instance, not to pick my nose while the Queen was on the telly; and that putting underpants on my head was not generally considered de rigeur at school, no matter how jolly I found it at home. Another thing she taught me was how to match my food on my plate, and eat a balanced diet while not putting weird food ingredients together.
I've come to the conclusion that there are a hell of a lot of diners in the world who could do with Mum's help. Like, for instance, those benighted diners who are hunching down, even now, to a meal of Chicken Parmagiana:
Here we have a positively devilish meal, composed out of several innocuous, if not charming ingredients: tomato sauce, chicken schnitzel, cheese, and spaghetti. (It tastes even worse with chips, if that's possible). I have nothing but admiration for these ingredients on their own; I have, indeed, spent many a happy hour with strands of spaghetti or chicken schnitzel. But these ingredients have no place in such an ignoble dish; they simply were not meant to go together.
This is a bacon-and-cheese croissant. You could hardly call this an adventurous meal; it is sold in diners and cafes and restaraunts from one side of this country to the other. But I am adamant in my belief that savoury ingredients have no place in what is, in fact, one of the most delicious sweet deserts on the face of this planet. Sacre Bleu, they bring shame to the name of Croissant!
This little meal is called a trifle. It certainly is trivial, though when we survey the ingredients of this particular trifle (and they vary), other words leap to mind. 'Technicolour yawn', for instance; 'disgusting'; or 'horrendous'. This begs the question, why did the chefs originally feel the urge to take a simple, delicious desert meal (fruit), and lavish upon it layer after layer of increasingly saccharine substances, draining out any instance of the original taste?
They were probably the same people to introduce the concept of 'banana porridge' to the world. Shun these culinary cretins, my blog-readers! Shun them and all their works!
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