The Hootoo Home of Today
Created | Updated Nov 7, 2010
'Gosh!'
'Thanks awfully, old fruit!'
The above is actually a true transcript of the closing remarks of a conversation I had earlier today with someone via an instant messaging service. I do realise that we may be in a minority in speaking this way. (Actually, I can only think of one other person I know who does; strangely enough, that person also happens to contribute to 
...)
Therefore, in a somewhat desperate attempt to find inspiration for this week's dispatches I decided to throw in rather more than the accustomed amount of spiffing old words; 'By George!' I thought to myself; 'That will sort out the duffers from the chumps eh what!'
Hurrah! Jolly good clean fun, however first I have to ascertain the departure time of the next charabanc into town and possibly even make a trunk call. Half a minute, I shall be back in a jiffy!
Splendid, a rendezvous with my physician has been arranged, since I appear to be suffering from galloping consumption, or possibly a severe case of hypochondria; at any rate my sputum resembles recipe number 4 in Hon WT(Cocktail) Boothby's delightful Absinthe Mixtures.
And the name of the star is called WORMWOOD; and the third part of the waters became WORMWOOD; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.
Revelation viii:2 (Nouveau Testament Francais)
Absinthe Drip (French Style)
Into a highball or punch-glass place a lump of ice, a pony of absinthe and a flavor of either gum, orgeat or anisette (whichever the patron prefers); then fill an absinthe strainer with cracked ice and water, and hold it high above the glass containing the absinthe, allowing it to drip until the glass is full; then stir well and serve.
ahem, *discreet cough*
Don't try this one at home, boys and girls, since absinthe has been a totally illegal beverage for quite some time in every civilised country, with perfectly good reason. However, now you come to mention it, there is this little bar I happen to know...
There are, in fact, 13 absinthe recipes in this delightful section, including 'Californian style', 'A Parisian Fad' and 'A Nice Way'; the latter reminds me of a well known supermarket chain, Safeway. I wandered lonely as a cloud on many occasions down their sceptred aisles pondering whether an Unsafeway might perchance be a more entertaining method of procuring one's victuals.
Dash it all, I seem to have misplaced my trusty tome Enid Blyton's Book of the Year; I do find Enid to be such a source of moral guidance; her motto for this week being a shining example to us all:
Be strong and play the man!
Er, yes, my thoughts entirely (are you listening Serephina?)
But I digress,I think, let us return to 'old fruits'; aha...
Mulberry, Persimmon and Quince; these conjure up a delightful image of the next big girlie group.
Mulberries are not often procurable in these days , but are an old-fashioned fruit and very palatable.
Scrumptious! However, quinces seem to be only fit for wine and may suffer cruel and unusual punishment in the process:
When the quinces are strained they should be wrung hard in a coarse cloth.
Well, if they weren't feeling strained before, they will be after that treatment!
Persimmons appear to be a lot of hard work, requiring gallons of liquid manure for their cultivation, which rather put me off.
However, in a nearby section of The Home of Today I did find the following, which I feel is excellent general advice if one is faced with the prospect of inspecting not 'Old fruits' but 'Old ****'
(Yes, dear reader, it's a little game! Tee-hee and all that!)
To choose ****
- The flesh should be firm and plump, close-grained and rigid, and the **** of moderate size.
- If sunken and dull, you may be sure the **** is stale, even though the flesh is rigid owing to ice-storage.
- The smell should be sweet and pleasant. As stale **** is very dangerous to health, it is very important to watch for these points when buying.
Did you guess? Well, here's a clue then; it may sound rather like a firm of geriatric solicitors!
Halibut, Turbot, Brill, Smelt, and Dab.
I'm sure you have deduced my little ruse now; but just in case; this is the last clue I'm giving you:
With a lobster, a limp tail is a sign of staleness
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