by Nelson Griddle
To paraphrase George Bernard Shaw, it seems that one Englishman has only to open his mouth and put a sausage in it for another Englishman to despise him.
For proof, look no further than Times man Giles Coren, who, not content with going about Pontefract telling truck drivers what they should and should not be eating for a TV documentary called Tax the Fat (sounds like highly nuanced stuff, eh?), has made a sally against the English breakfast.
“You never see a person with a degree eating a fry-up, do you?” argues Mr Coren. “Certainly not someone with a 2:1 or better in a humanities subject from a university founded before the invention of the iPod. That's because they are smart enough to know better.”
Only stupid people eat a Full English, according to Mr Coren. Oh, and working class people, too. Wealthy young Giles, whose father sent him to Westminster (where it seems they taught him that it’s amusing to poke fun at people on Disability Living Allowance) prefers porridge with… wait for it… salt.
LRB readers can make their own minds on whether they wish to swap their eggs and bacon for salty oatmeal. And whether they only plump for the former only because they’re dim-witted white trash.
My own contention would be twofold: that the cerebral can coexist happily with the calorific. And The Times is not what it was.
11 comments:
But... but... I like to read the LRB and Literary Review over a long, greasy, cooked breakfast in my favourite egg-chips-beans caffs in the East End. So do I have to revoke my Cambridge degree? Or only order a slice of ironic white toast with margerine? Cripes, what a killjoy Giles is turning out to be. That salt is clearly raising his blood pressure to 'grumpy old man desperate to fill column inches' levels.
I know for a fact he received £1.50 a word to write that stream of shit.
Is that you Giles?
Hooray for Nelson Griddle!
Take a look:
http://douglas-wine.blogspot.com/2008/03/dear-giles-coren.html
I'd like to strap Giles Coren to a chair and force-feed him fryups till he takes it back. Or I could hide behind some bushes outside the Times HQ and lob him with a bucket of salty porridge. That'll learn him.
Now, now, don't knock porridge. It can be part of an excellent morning repast, followed by jugged kippers, scrambled duck eggs, grilled toms, granary toast and a vat of strong Ceylon.
You're right, Giles is a silly posho, though.
Giles is right. I've had to revoke my three degrees so I can carry on eating in greasy spoons. My A-Level results are still a problem, but I'm thinking of taking a GNVQ to save face.
On Friday I have the pleasure of pigging out at the second best breakfast venue in London (Simpsons in the Strand).
I have never seen a fry-up served to anyone with less than a Masters at this fine establishment.
Giles Corens talking complete poppycock, we at EatMe magazine all have a 2.1 or above from redbricks and we love a good fry up.
www.eatmemagazine.com
And there's an article about the classic dish in our latest issue!
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