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…therefore I am hertil.
Just kidding, this isn’t the latest Apple “i” product. It’s a blue button in Denmark near the word ‘fart’ and (in my opinion) the much less interesting word ‘hertil.’
…will this do?
It was New Year’s Eve and I was in a Parisian bar. My friend Brett was having a party popper battle with an aggressive French lady, whilst I was eating the most delicious engorged goose liver I had ever tasted. It’s not a bad way to see out the year, but I had unfinished business; a challenge to meet! And with only minutes to go, I could not fail…
All my life I had wanted to be a Parisian. Imagine a French accordion playing as you read the next bit, or better still play this french accordion music as you read:
As a young Australian boy growing up on a farm, I’d pretend the chickens were my French friends with names like Pierre the Chicken, Antoine the Chicken and Stevo the French Chicken. I used to pretend the pigs were French wait staff, and I’d giggle at their disgruntlement (which is funny coming from a pig). I used to eat snails from Mum’s garden and I’d pretend fish fingers were small baguettes. Wearing a shower cap as a makeshift beret I drank red wine and smoked and talked about Voltaire, just like any other French 8 year old child would. Over the years, my whimsy faded in and out, blurring with Monkey Magic and my other schoolboy interests… but I never forgot my Parisian dream. And now, as I sat in a random bar in Paris – it had come back with a vengeance.
December 8th
January 8th
Once a year, a special relationship blossoms between myself and Nigella Lawson. Her book, ‘Nigella Christmas’ is filled with many recipes – most of which should never be attempted either at Christmas or any other time of the year. She does however, have a very detailed and overly complicated, borderline Pagan kitchen witchery method of cooking a turkey…. I decided to give it a try.
Let me take you on a photographic journey… one expensive organic turkey, 5 guests, and 5.3 kg of bird meat. You do the maths, we’ll do the eatin’.
Note: Pyjama bottoms are optional.
Step 1: Squat in kitchen near mop bucket. Add orange peels.
Step 2: Add 1 cup of cocaine.
Step 3: Fill box with swamp water and unidentifiable swamp creature.
Step 4: Put tub outside until frozen solid. Discard.
Step 5: Take off pants.
Step 6: Using Ye Olde English accent, torture turkey on a makeshift ‘rack.’
Step 7: Stuff oven.
Step 8: Assign 1 guest to monitor cooking turkey. 1 to 4 hours.
Step 9: Remove from oven. Paint uncooked parts with golden brown turkey paint.
Step 10: Examine Nigella’s final turkey for presentation ideas.
Step 11: Present.
I hope you have a Merry Christmas, and that your day is filled with merriment and your digestive system filled with dry organic turkey meat.
Photography by Brett McCosker
Contributing quips by Seamus Mullen
I will never be in the right place at the right time like this again.
…but this portrait of a lady is terrible.
The Frost Retort 