Tuesday, March 17, 2009
DREAMTIME
When I first moved down to *The Smoke* I used to walk around the streets for hours. In fact, even when I used to live in Backwards Staffordshire, I used to walk around for hours as a form of therapy and to kid myself into thinking that I was on a voyage of discovery.
However, at least Backwards Staffordshire was more picturesque so I could walk on the outskirts of woods or around hills overlooking countryside. The bit of South London I live in now is pretty dreary and devoid of character and some bits of it are slightly dodgy so ... I've given up walking around and started blogging as a form of therapy instead. By rights, I should now weigh fifty stone.
One of my first voyages of discovery was to Netto in Cr*** L** (the name of the area has been hidden to protect the innocent).
I'd just got a leaflet through the post proclaiming a sale at Netto, and it seemed like a whole new supermarket experience to me.
Netto seemed to exclusively sell products from the 1950's. These included Goblin Meat Pudding, which I've never eaten:
and tins of pease pudding, which I've since tried, and is probably the most unpleasant foodstuff on the face of the earth. Still, it seems to be liked by lovable Londoners, who also appreciate such culinary delights as jellied eels, pie, mash and liquor (I think it's some sort of green gravy), whelks, mussels and boiled beef. This is pease pudding in its full glory:
Don't you think that the picture is very alluring? I can see it on the side of a tin accompanied by the words "serving suggestion".
I imagined the meat counter at Netto would've displayed all those obscure but economical meat cuts that women in big tweed sack coats and headscarves would've asked for to put in a stew or a pie - best bit of back, brisket, gall bladder and cow hoof, that sort of thing.
So, the next day, in a state of high excitement, I headed off on the long pilgrimage to Netto in Cr*** L**.
Unfortunately, I couldn't find the entrance to the shop. There were shutters on the front doors. It must've been somewhere to the rear, but after several minutes of trying to walk around the back of the shop I couldn't locate it.
Had I walked into another dimension, or was Netto just a mirage, a part of my fevered imagination? Was Netto REALLY from the 1950's, but had it been shut down and demolished in 1962 - had I seen a glimpse of a GHOSTLY NETTO???
I never found out, but I was very disappointed, having walked for about half an hour :(
Still, it seems I had a lucky escape. A few weeks later, I was sat in a pub called The Y**** when a conversation took place at the next table.
Bloke no. 1: "Have you ever seen that old dragon who works in Netto?"
Bloke no. 2: "No."
Bloke no. 1: "She goes around accusing people of switching the labels round on tins of food.
She really shouted at me the other day and almost made me go up to the manager's office."
Labels: Goblin Meat Pudding, Netto, pease pudding, the 1950's, the supernatural, walking around the streets for hours on end
