Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Poem In The Form Of Unanswered Gmail Chat Conversation Starter. As sent to Andrew, that anchovy-loving, non-Gmail-chat-answering bastard.
I bought some anchovies today
I figure that if they dissolve in food they will be okay
However, I feel quite ashamed of the over-whimsical potential of such a poem. Can you imagine the vile McSweeney's List that could be compiled from such abortive reachings-out on Gmail Chat?
Guess you're busy then

I just wanted to say I don't mind your beard after all

Are you around tonight?
We could get a drink
Two foods I really can't stand are anchovies and olives. It is their strong, salty taste, and in the case of anchovies, it is also their hairy texture. Once I was in the window at Mario's, where I am quite often to be found early on Sunday afternoons, and someone had ordered a puttanesca. The smell of it was so vile I thought I would throw up.

Another time I was at book club and Helen had made these little crostini criss-crossed with anchovies. I ate one to be polite but I made sure to eat it in tiny little bites so that I wasn't overwhelmed with the anchovy taste and made no involuntary facial grimaces. It actually tasted quite nice that way.

Now I have decided to try cooking with tiny amounts of anchovy after hearing (for the umpteenth time) that they dissolve in the pan leaving only a savoury, salty flavour behind. In much the same way, I can handle olives if they are mashed into a tapenade and spread over something else.

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