I have two very good friends who I sometimes refer to as the Dream Team in an ironic fashion. I never thought they would feature in these pages because a) they’re annoying and b) they can’t cook. One of them hasn’t even read any of my oeuvre yet, if you can believe it – that’s the kind of hands off friendship that I appreciate…
Off the top of my head, their culinary heights include Tesco Finest spaghetti carbonara covered in chilli death sauce, Super noodles covered in chilli death sauce, fire rum (which caused the demise of a cheese grater), blue milk, protein shakes and dismissing the present of a 'Quick Easy Suppers' style cookbook on the basis that some of the recipes took (gasp) a whole 30 minutes. So it was with some trepidation that I accepted an offer to go over to their flat and eat turkey donated by a bank in honour of the recently passed Christmas weekend. My fear was not allayed by the increasingly bewildered texts I received throughout the day from the one who had been designated as in charge of the cooking (we’ll call him the house husband) due to having the day off work. I transcribe a few below:
“We are planning to have it ready by about 7 or 8 but given we have never cooked a turkey before I have no idea when that will actually be”
“Can you show us how to cook the turkey?”
“If you put max heat does it cook faster?”
“Where does the beer/orange go?”
“What’s basting?”
Meanwhile, the other one (think Richard O'Brien), in response to a simple query about whether any accompanying dishes had been prepared or even thought about, replied with “No trimmings. No sides. Just Turkey”.
Needless to say, I was mega excited.
Imagine my surprise when I turned up to find a scene of touching and festive domestic bliss. Two young(ish) men slaving over a hot stove in perfect harmony. The turkey appeared to have survived its ordeal and was resting on the side whilst I was poured a drink and we laughed and joked and ate great food and had a lovely evening, like some kind of heartwarming Christmas film.
Aha, I thought, maybe they’ve grown up.
At that point I hadn't noticed the stuffing had been made in the shape of penises.
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, ho ho ho and a bottle of rum to everyone who reads this blog x
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| Another kind of penis. |
