Icecream and unexpected jokes
I was so certain today was Friday that when I discovered it wasn’t, I floundered for about two hours. I solaced myself with a 1920s ice cream, the very first product of the Prohibition menu tests. Kate made two ice creams initially, although she has taken some more because summer is such a perfect time to test ice cream recipes. Yesterday she thought I should taste them too. She made a white peach one and a raspberry.
The ice creams are custard-based and surprisingly unlike the Regency ice creams. Less rich. Less abundant. A softer, gentler and subtler palate. This is a promising beginning to what looks as if it will be a fascinating series of food tests.
On an entirely unrelated note, today I went shopping with a friend. We found a new African grocery shop hidden in the depths of Mawson (not the dead explorer, the suburb – I really do not want to know what is hidden in the depths of dead explorers, though I’m pretty sure it’s not groceries from North Africa).
What was really interesting is the different reaction J. and I had to tins of beans. I simply read the label and said “Beans,” checked the ingredients and thought it looked good. I bought ‘Foul with hot pepper’ and ‘Foul with vegetable oil.’ I’ve seen the word spelled so many ways, I read it as ‘ful,’ ie as bean. J. read it as ‘foul’ ie as something not edible. I get the joy of the bean, but she gets the joy of a bad joke. I honestly don’t know which is better.
I would dearly love to know which English words cause hysterical laughter when seen on food packages.
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