Swap you for some pigs trotters and tripe.
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I have never liked tripe from about the age of 14 . The reason is or think it is at that age I was working as a butcher delivery boy after school and Saturday mornings . A Friday was the day I was required to visit the local abattoir and load the tripe on the bike for the shop. I was always met by the smell and the cry’s of the beasts being slaughtered ,so couldn’t wait to get out of the place. So I automatically associate tripe with the killing of the animals. For some weird reason it is only tripe that I am averse to. Although I don’t like potted meat as was about the only thing available during the war and even that was rationed , and seeing how it was made in the shop where all the scrag ends were used made it a no no for me. There is very little wastage in a butchers shop any fat goes into the vat , and that’s not the tax, the bones are or were always sold for soup. If you were a good customer you got the good cuts, if slow on paying your bills you didn’t. JS.
#12, The smell of it being cooked in milk with onions has never left me as both my dad and father in law loved it. In Majorca they cook it in a tomato sauce but that didn't win me over either.:thumbsdown:
Similar story to my father John, he was apprenticed to a butcher before the war and joined up when he was old enough same stories as you and as you say nothing wasted at all. They even slaughtered some stock in the backyard of the butchers shop as the butcher also had a farm.
My parents also cooked tripe and onions in milk but it never appealed to me at all. They also served cold tripe in vinegar (along with all sorts of other more palatable snacks) at the local workingmens club. When the back shift at the pit finished at 9.30ish, they started pulling pints en mass so by ten the very long bar was filled with pints and snacks and by about ten the double doors would fly open and a huge crowd of miners would pour in and start demolishing beer like you never saw before. I once saw my uncle (a face worker) sink 5 pints in 20 minutes without appearing to rush.
Woolton Pie & Blind Scouse.
Don't forget SPAM, what would those war years been like without SPAM.
Does anyone still buy SPAM on here or would they not own up that they do lol. Someone must still buy it as it is still available on Super market shelves, usually alongside the tinned luncheon meat.
I always remember the tray of brawn ?, left out for the night shifts when i was at sea, horrible bits of meat floating abut in jelly, don't recall anyone eating it, Peggy used to dump over the side every morning. Thats the only food i moaned about when at sea. Was always surprised what we were fed at sea, much better than Mum could afford ashore, and we were fed well at home. At sea full cooked breakfast, soup and a main course and sweet at midday, cooked evening meal with a sweet, never got that at home.
#14..My old man would eat trotters and tripe until it came out of his ears . And yet if there was chicken on the table he would leave the table. As for beer he thought he hadn’t had a drink unless he had eight pints. That was between 2000 hrs and closing time . As regards chicken I asked him one night when older and with him in the pub. He said during the war in India and Burma they were fed on what was supposed to be chicken until he saw the preparation of, it was dead rats, he said there is no difference in the taste , but he never touched chicken after that.
JS
Another favourite in my household was ham ribs, cabbage & potato.:)