This is hilarious. I've personally seen the amusingly inept names for fried chicken purveyors in London, so I'm really digging this blog. Do you have any pictures of "New York Fried Chicken" and "Tennessee Fried Chicken?"
I'm guessing that in London you can pretty much pick any American state and name a fried chicken place after it. I can't wait for someone to open "Rhode Island Fried Chicken," since everyone here in the USA knows that citizens of the Ocean State are famous for their frying abilities.
I have a bunch of fond food- related memories of London, despite the fact that English food is so stereotypically bad. Once, after taking the Jack the Ripper tour, I was waiting in line at a late- night sandwich shop on the East End. Some dude pulled up to the window on his bicycle and asked for a steak sandwich. The proprietor said that he didn't have any steak, but the bicycle rider started arguing with him! "I think you do," he said.
I also regret to this very day not getting a grilled sausage from the dude selling them outside of the British Museum. Have you ever gotten one there? They smell really good. I regret not getting that sausage almost as much as I regret missing out on the $5 DVD copy of Cocan the Barbarian I missed out on years ago. Ah, the bittersweet kiss of nostalgia.
Anyway, if you read my blog you'll see that I'm quite an Anglophile. So God Save the Queen, Rule Britannia, and Up the Irons, Old Sod.
To Whom it May Concern,
ReplyDeleteThis is hilarious. I've personally seen the amusingly inept names for fried chicken purveyors in London, so I'm really digging this blog. Do you have any pictures of "New York Fried Chicken" and "Tennessee Fried Chicken?"
I'm guessing that in London you can pretty much pick any American state and name a fried chicken place after it. I can't wait for someone to open "Rhode Island Fried Chicken," since everyone here in the USA knows that citizens of the Ocean State are famous for their frying abilities.
I have a bunch of fond food- related memories of London, despite the fact that English food is so stereotypically bad. Once, after taking the Jack the Ripper tour, I was waiting in line at a late- night sandwich shop on the East End. Some dude pulled up to the window on his bicycle and asked for a steak sandwich. The proprietor said that he didn't have any steak, but the bicycle rider started arguing with him! "I think you do," he said.
I also regret to this very day not getting a grilled sausage from the dude selling them outside of the British Museum. Have you ever gotten one there? They smell really good. I regret not getting that sausage almost as much as I regret missing out on the $5 DVD copy of Cocan the Barbarian I missed out on years ago. Ah, the bittersweet kiss of nostalgia.
Anyway, if you read my blog you'll see that I'm quite an Anglophile. So God Save the Queen, Rule Britannia, and Up the Irons, Old Sod.
Sincerely,
Your Friend the Surly Motherfucking Gourmand
Of course he had steak, what are you American or something? He was lying, like all good cockneys do.
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