The Last Supper
Time was, a wholly incurable couple of ne'er do wells, such as myself and Mr. Stewart, late of Limerick, Ireland, could hirple aimlessly along the street, admittedly rather lackadaisical and seemingly self-whimsical thanks to the earlier fullness of a fine malt lunch in the company of our other very good friend and loyal companion, Mr. Laphroaig. Our midday constitutional usually took us in the direction of the Stags Head in Crieff for another solid and uninterrupted refreshment until the hour of 8.15, whence my old friend Mr. Stewart would sadly depart on the early evening train for central Glasgow, then a short connection by way of the airport, to his home on the darker side of the moon. A somewhat laissez-faire lifestyle, if you will, but why not? Misery abound, many nights have since been spent repairing my shredded soul in readiness for the afterlife, should there be one. I have since found that the burden of guilt coupled with my current bout of insomnia is indeed a poor bedfellow. Not content with tormenting me by way of a dripping bladder, my brain, so often idle and fixed in a postmortem rigidity, mainly due to the black toasted hoppiness of many misspent moments over the years, has decided to lament in regard to my memory bank.
After being dispatched forthwith to collect fresh eggs for the breakfast table recently one morning, I was rather bemused to find myself, still in my slippers and robe, passing the time of day with the postman, of whom I had apparently bushwhacked, on his bicycle, outside of my nearest neighbours cottage, at No 43. Although troubled with one or two current local issues, I can find no particular reason as to why I should have to be recovered, shuffling morosely, from the damp bleakness of a chill November morning, by my somewhat confounded spouse. It was no surprise to find that a short time later a doctors appointment soon loomed, my attendance was assured by the escorting presence of my eldest son propelling me forward when my name was called. After a brief cranial examination, not to mention an informal chat about my ancient warrior facial disfigurements, or history markers as I now refer to them, I was in turn referred. Weeks later, the papers are now in. It's official. It was decided that I am in the early, but steadily increasing, stages of possible dementia. Somewhat perturbed, I am yet to reach the age of 50, I spent the remainder of today locked in my study recording several bequests to local charities, long standing friends and of course my loving family, who have been camped unceremoniously outside of the door in case I leap from a window or jump from a chair while wearing a hessian necktie. No need, I am reliably informed that soon my hands will become discophoran, soon to spread to my feet and imprison me to a slumberous utopia in the upstairs guest bedroom. It has a lower seating position in the loo. Such coincidence all those years ago during the intricate reconstruction? Who knows, my mind once worked in mysterious ways.
Whilst my mind is still in an upright unaided position, I would like to reassure those serried loyal who continue to venture here to my topsy-turvy proscenium, that the foreseeable long term prognosis is that I am royally fucked. However, until a time arrives when I can no longer wipe my own bottom, blow my rather flat nose and lift a glass to my increasingly dry mouth, I shall continue to pound the keys for my own enjoyment, if not always yours. I do hope that you will continue to endure me.
Lobsterbotomy Supreme on Fresh Bread
1 freshly caught lobster
8oz dried dill seeds
4 oz fennel seeds
1/4 cup coarse sea salt
1 white onion cut into small pieces
2 chilled cans of English bitter
Mix the dill seeds, fennel and salt, plus the onion and the bitter into a large lobster pot with fresh water. Bring to a boil, simmer for 10 minutes before you add our friend the lobster. Continue to boil for 7-8 minutes and then turn off the heat. Leave the lobster to steep overnight until the water is room temperature. Remove the beast from the pot and put into a flat bowl with some of the juices. Cover with clingfilm and chill for approx 4 hours. Cut the lobster in half, length-wise, remove the stomach and of course de-vein. Crack the claws, serve in a large bowl with a green salad and warm fresh toasted sourdough bread. To accompany the meal, chilled white wine or champagne.
Created & prepared by Chef Files