Stroke Pastries

The ones on the left are tremendously difficult to make due to the unique and unusual presentation. They are known locally in the Australian outback as Aboriginal Nukes. They are copied from a recipe thought to date back to the 1940’s. When nuclear testing began in the Bikini Atoll in 1946, the authorities had no idea what to expect and the first explosion was far more powerful than anticipated. All staff and locals were evacuated before the explosion but the bomb smithereened the worker’s base. The canteen suffered the worst as it’s contents were catapulted up through the mushroom cloud and got caught in an unseasonably strong North Easterly wind.

The heavier items were dumped into the Pacific but the food, fused by the radiation from the explosion, carried all the way to Australia to be found and admired by the local bushmen. They copied the recipe as best they could using smoked snake meat and cheese made from wombat’s milk.

I tried to simulate this as best as I could and was led to believe that smoked snake meat is similar to smoked bacon so that was easy. Wombat’s milk however is pretty distinct in flavour but this became somewhat of a problem. Have you ever tried to milk a wombat? I can assure that they really don’t like it. And I’ve been banned from Bristol Zoo. So I made do with stilton. I can assure you however that physical appearance is as authentic as the original Aboriginal Nuke.

The ones on the right are made from Pilgrim’s Choice extra mature cheddar and Frank’s Xtra Hot sauce. I’m not sure how hot this sauce is so I’m not sure how hot the pastries will be. Hey ho.

They will now go in my fridge to ‘age’ for 30 hours before going to the club to support Lara’s brave run in aid of the Stroke Folk.

Rugby

What a great weekend of sport. Apart from noticing West Ham’s remarkable victory at Manchester City, I barely noticed any football results. The Rugby World Cup has been very dominating with some wonderful action and some great results already, the obvious one being the Japanese victory over South Africa.

Now, one of the reasons that football gets a bit ignored when rugby is about is because of the remarkable behaviour of the players. It’s so refreshing. Seeing the histrionics, the cheating, the finger pointing, the rolling around on the football pitch week after week is enough to sink the soul.

There was a particular incident yesterday when New Zealand were struggling to get past Argentina when All Blacks captain and most capped player Richie McCaw casually snaked out a leg to illegally trip one of the Argies who had just taken a tap penalty.

He was spotted by either one of the 4,526 cameras or possibly the touch judge and was yellow carded which means 10 minutes in the sin bin. What was remarkable was his reaction. Nothing. He just jogged to the sin bin and sat down. Not a word. Not a hopeless flailing of the arms. No teammates gathered to bully the officials. Had this been football, he would’ve been rolling about on the turf with mouth wide open in total denial of his crime, before getting an emergency limousine to Nicky Clarke’s for a soothing cut and blow dry.

Still, not all is well among the fart stained, beer puddly marbled halls of World Rugby. There seems to be a lack of total agreement with the use of the Third Match Official. Many rugby aficionados would rather all decisions be made at the discretion of the one man in the middle with the whistle and accept that he wont always be right.

The trouble is that there are so many things going on at once, he aint gonna see everything and you have to ask yourself whether it is right for results to depend totally on the observance of the referee. He can’t always be sure if that ball was grounded, that foot was in touch or whether little Johnny Tightshorts was bummed in the scrum by that 20 stone Maori.

I think it’s good that everybody has a breather for a minute whilst somebody checks the footage from all the cameras to come to the correct decision.

Going back to that Japan victory for a sec, here’s a fact for you. New Zealand’s record win is 145-17 – against Japan – just 20 years ago.

Bunty

I offer you a unique opportunity to get £10 off a once in a lifetime purchase of immense historical, local interest. To set the scene, after the war and still sulking from being dipped into the Atlantic, my father settled into a draughtsman’s job at the Admiralty Underwater Weapons Establishment on Portland. Whilst there he was aware of a woman working there 10 years his senior but was never sure what she did – within or outside of her official remit.

This woman turned out to be Ethel Gee – rather bewilderingly known as Bunty – who was later tried as a spy and sentenced to 15 years in prison. If you want to fill in the gaps, there’s a story here on the Dorset Magazine website http://www.dorsetmagazine.co.uk/people/the_spy_next_door_1_1642538 or there’s always Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethel_Gee. Spy story or love story? You decide. Spielberg needs to pull his trousers up and get on this immediately.

Anyway, my point is that the house where Bunty lived, in Hambro Road, currently occupied by Boy3, his girl and my grandson, is now up for sale. They’ve had their time actually living in a slice of local history and are generously offering you the chance to have a go. And now that I offer you a £10 voucher, how can you afford to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity?

Details of the house are here http://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-54159311.html?utm_medium=shorturl&utm_campaign=smspropertydetails&utm_source=url don’t miss that fact that you can also buy a massive garage just up the road. Boy3 needed some extra room for his experiments. Don’t ask.

I can offer you extra information. Like assurance that the entire property is in tip top condition and there are no hidden neighbour problems that you often discover all too late. And don’t forget to mention my offer and they will reduce the price by 10 whole English pounds.

No no, you’re welcome.