Planes, Trains, and Automobiles: January 2010 Archives

I have a new addiction. The new addiction joins the panoply of other food related addictions such as the fried pork products, fried potato products, beer, fruit cake (that's another story - for later), smoked meat products of all kinds, and on occasion, po'boys. Though the latter is only applicable only while in New Orleans.

My new addiction, though takes me even farther afield than the po'boys. For this one I have to go to England. On our last trip I encountered something called Anchovial Alchemy while browsing food items in Fortnum and Mason. Don't you just like the sound of that - Fortnum and Mason's? You could package corrugated cardboard in some sort of cream sauce and put it in a tin - not a can, and I would eagerly devour it, if it carried the Fortnum and Mason logo.

In this particular case I came across a little ceramic container or pot, with the description Anchovial Alchemy, An Armada of Superior Anchovy. See this is why I love the Brits. First, they have an anchovy and butter spread, which for someone who loves anchovies is bliss. Second, they use product descriptions with words like 'Armada'. In America, we count ourselves lucky if they use the term 'yummy' and spell it right.

Anyhow, I bought this stuff because it sounded intriguing and I try and do something intriguing at least once a week. It's the kind of guy I am. After we arrived home it sat in the pantry for four or five months, mainly because I kind of forgot it and also because I really didn't have any idea what to do with it. Possibly also because my try something intriguing phase petered out around the holidays. Then I ran across a reference to some anchovy butter and how it was nice spread on good rustic toast. So I pulled the ceramic pot out, made some toast, and sampled it.

Nirvana.

Now I realize this isn't for everyone. If you don't like anchovies or things with a piscatorial tang, you'll hate this. If you don't like salt, you'll hate this. But if a blend of fish, salt, butter, and pepper appeals to you then man, is this a taste treat. Personally, if you spread this on wood chippings I'd probably eat it.

 A little search revealed that this product can also be found under the name, Patum Peperium, a Gentleman's Relish. Which is convenient as I thought I would have to keep going back to London every six weeks or so as I ran out of Anchovial Alchemy. Much as I like going to London, the recent habits of strip searching international travelers seems a little over the top and somewhat inconvenient. So I'll restrict myself for now to sampling Patum Peperium and see how that compares. Besides, who wouldn't love a Gentleman's Relish?

Today's entry concerns something that can, thank god, not be found in the United States. I mean we've invented more than our fair share of things that are an affront to man and nature alike, such as nuclear weapons and the pedal powered wheelchair (just the thing for those lazy-ass paraplegics). And let's not forget the culinary sciences, where American ingenuity overcame obstacles like good taste and health, to bring us the deep fried Twinkie and the KFC Heart-Attack-In-A-Bowl.

But, on our recent trip to London we came across a product that while obviously developed by an American corporation, was not marketed here in the States. And we think it's because the corporation in question, McDonalds, which has never been one to let moral, ethical, or taste issues stand in the way of increasing corporate profits, actually thought that Americans would find the item in question too fancy-pants. The product to which we refer is the After Eight McFlurry.

For those who are not up on their chocolaty confections (and I am only because Mary is one of the world's most unsung experts in the field), After Eight is a small rectangular  sweet with a layer of soft mint fondant between two thin layers of dark chocolate. Interestingly enough, the company that makes these is based in England but is now owned by Nestle, obviously as part of the sinister Swiss plan to dominate the world's candy sector and force us all one day to sing the Swiss national anthem and eat cheese with holes in it. Damnned Swiss. As the name implies, After Eight is or was intended as an after dinner mint, though here in Colorado it would be more accurate to call it After Six since that's when most people have finished dining out. In any case, and the swipe at Coloradan dining habits disposed of, After Eight mints are the type of thing one might find at the type of establishment that is striving to rise above the common ruck of Chili's and Outback Steakhouses. A little after dinner mint on the tray with the check makes the pain of overpaying for pedestrian food go away, because it's free and well, we Americans are just absolute suckers for free stuff.

Anyhow, returning back to London and strange ice cream based treats we found the whole concept of the After Eight McFlurry something only the Brits could love. And not just because it's fancier than what the average American McDonalds customer would prefer. From comments I've followed here and there the quasi ice cream sundae slash milk shake is tooth jarringly sweet, and minty. British sensibilities seem to tolerate much higher levels of sugar in their confections than most Americans can handle.  I feel though on the plus side they do expect a much higher quality than the American - just taste a Cadbury bar and then sample a Milky Way and you'll see what I mean.

I have little enough tolerance for candy in my ice cream as it is - after a brief flirtation with Ben and Jerry's Heath Bar crunch some years ago, I went back to eating ice cream as it was meant to be - with a single flavor and no added ingredients. Understandably then, we avoided sampling the After Eight McFlurry and not least because it would have forced us to actually enter a McDonalds which we're loathe to do in this country much less some place overseas. So you'll just have to take our word for it that the confection exists as we have no intention of ever sampling one.