Ripping yarns, beautiful lies and a few home truths.
Truly beyond, especially if you've ever had an ancient relative cook for you.
This is wonderful. I shall never look at a herring in the same way again. I wonder now about the Dutch herrings of my childhood and how they might differ from the scottish ones. I suppose it all lies in the education.
I do like the idea of a porridge batter.
My Pop, a legendary fisherman, used to roast hand caught (tickled, sshhh) trout over a fire in wet newspaper, sometimes with damper, Kiwi Kraut style.
I don't think you are supposed to eat the porridge coating, Sarah. Ivor Cutler - a genuine poetic nut case.
Awesomely eccentric. Herring is my favourite fish. Caught so many off the back of the yacht. Great as leftovers for breakfast on hot buttered toast. My Grandfather's pickled rollmops and salted herring with white chopped onion. Christ he stank! Great tribute to the Humble Herring.
Yes, he's the real thing Tom. Thanks for the stories MF and Merc.