Parmo vote: the results are in

And, surprising no-one, I did not make the cut in the finals of the World Parmo Cooking Championships, despite my best efforts to stuff the ballot box. Probably just as well, given the improbability of me being able to catch a flight to Teesside and make it to Stockton High Street this week, what with the snow and all.



So who are the finalists? The three winners include Borges (not Argentinean, as you might expect, but rather Italian) and Billingham's Mexi-maybe Mohujos, whose Angolan chef is trained in Portuguese cuisine. I guess, if nothing else, that this validates the "World" part of the contest's title.

So big thanks to everyone who voted for me. I owe you all several beers, followed by a deep-fried slice of chicken smothered in cheese, topped with more cheese.

Here's how the MSM tells it. (Votes from Cardiff, huh? I wonder which post code??)

Welcome! (Are you in the right place?)

Blogging is a little like throwing a house party: you encounter a lot of people you know, but it's interesting to find out who else has wandered in on a whim.

That's one reason I like checking my StatCounter traffic, especially the map, which provides a visual snapshot of locations of recent visitors:



It makes me want to do shoutouts: Wie geht's, Wien? ¿Que tal, Madrid? Hvordan har du det, Oslo?

But my favorite statistic is Recent Visitor Activity, which lists, among other things, the keyword phrases that led people to my door.

Often, I understand how they found the blog.

coney island sideshow donny vomit
mohujos restaurant billingham mexican
batter blaster
parmo championship

Sometimes, I suspect I wasn't what they were looking for.

brickwork look on buttercream
cuisinart smooth operator blender viewers comments
moroccan christmas
old law said to ban U f o from Chateauneuf-du-Pape
how long shall i leave a beshan turmeric curd and lemon juice face mask on for

And occasionally ... well, frankly, I don't know what they wanted or how on earth they found me.

pigalle street paris nightclub party photo
unreal omen melons

I just hope they found their answers somewhere.

Hunting haggis

Haggis isn't a hearty Scottish dish; it's a punchline. It joins a long list of foods non-Brits point to when they laugh at British cooking. Others include jellied eels, black pudding, steak and kidney pie, spotted dick. Okay, at least the last one sounds funny.

The whole "British food sucks" thing has always bugged me, not only because I grew up on the stuff, and know that it's largely fabulous--apart from in tourist-trap restaurants in London, and frankly, if that's your experience of British cuisine, you get what you deserve--but also because of the implied insult: the food is bad, so the people who eat it must be unsophisticated morons.

And yes, I know this is rich, coming from someone who's giddy about the World Parmo Cooking Championships. (Did you vote parmo yet?)

The prevalence of Brit-chef TV shows has helped reduce knee-jerk reactions about the food of My People, but even the best efforts of Gordon Ramsey, Nigella Lawson and the man once referred to in Viz as a "fat-tongued mockney herbert," Jamie Oliver, have not totally squashed the assumption that the cuisine of the British Isles is boiled, bland, fatty and flavorless.

Which brings us back to haggis.

I'd wanted to feed some to The Boy for ages, but stupid goverment rules forbidding the sale of food containing animal lungs make it hard to find the real stuff. So instead I broke down and bought Stahly's canned haggis from Cardullo's.



Looks tasty. huh? For $8 a can, it damn well better be. The label notes that it's "skinless," which I guess is their way of skirting those crazy "unfit for human consumption" laws.

The traditional accompaniment is neeps and tatties (translation: turnips and spuds. Translation: rutabagas and potatoes).
.


Yeah, okay, the veggies were boiled. But our mashed potato kicks butt, thank you. And any turnippy blandness was quickly overcome with garlic and fresh black pepper and lavish buttering.



Haggis is supposed to be served with a good Scotch, but--gasp!--we were all out of Jura. We had to slum it with Jim Bean, sassenachs that we are.

So what does haggis taste like? Think corned beef hash made with liverwurst, rounded out with barley. Okay, maybe that still sounds disgusting. But in the realm of comfort food, it's wonderful: a deep, earthy flavor, dark and meaty, with a creamy, rich mouthfeel, the grains adding a satisfying chewiness. Perfect for a chilly November night. Especially when rounded out with piles of creamy, buttery veggies and good hooch.



If you have a hankering to make your own haggis--and you can get your hands on a sheep's stomach bag (I think Coach has one in their fall line)--you could try one of these recipes.

Otherwise, try a can. Maybe a selection box. Go on. You'll like it. Promise.

Parmo campaign ad

The only slightly fictionalized tale of how I encountered parmo and vowed to bring it to America. I give you Parmo: A Love Story, the campaign ad for Carolyn Grantham LimeyG Parmo in the quest to participate in the World Parmo Cooking Championships.



For reasons I can't figure out, the very end is cut off. I suspect this is what comes of using free downloadables.

Vote parmo anyway.

I shall bring parmo pride to the USA!

[Updated 17 November]

In May, on a trip back to my hometown, I discovered a wondrous thing: parmo.



Essentially the Italian classic veal parmigiana (substituting pork for veal, cheddar for parmesan and big fat french fries for hand-made, butter-tossed fettucine), it's de rigueur among the Saturday-night drinkers of Teesside (i.e. the population of Teesside).

(In case you missed it, here's my virgin parmo experience).

In the US, of course, no-one knows what parmo is; in fairness, it's pretty much unheard-of outside the North-East of England. So when The Boy and I feel the need for a parmoment, we have to create our own.

Well, all that may be about to change.

Next month sees the inaugural World Parmo Cooking Championships in Stockton, a brave attempt to increase parmo awareness beyond the A19. And why not? It could do for parmo what the Golden Spurtle has done for porridge (that is, give food writers an eccentric festival to cover once a year, and then ... um ...)

The Guardian has a nice piece about the Championship, which includes two quotes that, I think, sum up My People in all their glory.

Championship organizer and "parmo crusader" Paddy Bowen on parmo: " ... It's just a good thing to have, beautiful and very filling. You eat it because that's what you do round here."

You eat it because that's what you do round here.

So true. So, so true.

And this, from parmo inventor Charlie Constantine, on the birth of his creation: "Parmesan goes hard when you grill it so we replaced it with cheddar, but we forgot to change the name on the menu."

We forgot to change the name. Beautiful. Anyway, what would the alternative have been? Cheddo? Chedsies? Cheddles?

Here's the deal: the top three most popular parmofacturers get to face off on December 16. Popularity is measured by write-in ballot. I guess it's meant for local restaurants, but nowhere is that stipulated--in fact, the very presence of the word "World" in the title suggests it must be opened up to an international field, like the World Cup and the World Series (uh, maybe not the latter).

So I want to you vote for me. It's very simple: just go to the questionnaire on Stockton Borough Council's parmo voting page (your tax pounds at work) and where it says "Name of restaurant/takeaway that makes the best parmo ever," write in "Carolyn Grantham limeyg parmo." The deadline for entries is December 7.

Oh, and when I'm selected, I'll need sponsorship. So if someone could arrange flights, that would be great. I'll happily sport your organization's t-shirt as I hold the Golden Parmo aloft on December 16.

[Update: the voting form requires a valid 7-digit UK postcode, e.g. CT17 9DR, PO12 2AW, CF10 4PZ, which further invalidates the whole "world" concept. It would be improper of me to suggest anyone commit fraud, so I won't.]