Showing posts with label Frying Pan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frying Pan. Show all posts

Friday, 29 December 2023

Out of the Frying Pan...


The constant scraping on the frying pan has led to the purchase of a new one.  This, somewhat larger pan, remains clear of the ingrained muck spoiling the older, and so far successful, pan.  However, the old required changing, and this has appeared.  
The impressive looking picture does not take away from the fact that this 'Extra Lean Beef Medallion Steak' can taste just like any other kind of slop I cook, no matter how many spices are added.  Still, it is healthy which is something.
Tesco is quite useful at times.  It seems to me they have taken the place once owned by 'Woolworths,' no long departed.  Not quite the same approach but the sort of place almost everything for the house can be found, usually.  
Looking around in the gloom of the afternoon I can see many items that originated in Tesco.  Of course, while the shop is useful it is also limiting in that only items that sell will be found there.  Those that sell slowly or feebly will never return.  I noticed |Sainsburys has the 'Byline times' the other week, but so far no sign of the latest edition.  Possibly it has not arrived, possibly not enough copies sold last time.  Too many Tories here to even have heard of that magazine.  Possibly 'W. H. Smiths' will have it, they will sell anything, even if they are calling themselves 'WHS,' these days.

Friday, 10 February 2012

Isn't Life Great?



This is a sink.  In the sink lies a bowl.  Inside the bowl lies, just visible, a frying pan. Now it is not unusual to see a pan in a washing u bowl, but this one is different.  This is a symbol of my life today!  You see I used the pan to fry some mushrooms and tomatoes to go along with my fish, chips and beans, a nourishing but unspectacular chow the other night.  The pan was later stored away at the bottom of the oven, some oil still inside, awaiting further use. Last night, using all my intellect to the fullest effect, I decided that eating the remains from the bag of oven chips would equal my tea because I was too lazy busy to fix anything that required effort.
It was while I searched the web for dead soldiers in the fields of France and Gallipoli that I began to actually taste the aroma of war. The burning smell from the shells and destroyed buildings was very clear to me as I Googled.  It was as if I was there!  I was!  The frying pan was burning and the house was filling with smoke and all was danger!  I ate in a calm atmosphere, eyes nipping with the smoke in the air, doors and windows open, and a cold draught going right up my kilt!  The smell still lingers today, even after a lot of elbow grease has been involved.  
Life will be better from now on, I wonder if I bought that lottery ticket.....?