Alright everyone, it’s time to get schwifty, so pull down your pants and-
Okay, no. I’m not finishing that reference. Rick and Morty really isn’t the highbrow, adult comedy that its fans would like you to think and that level of toilet humour is just gross. Even for a chilli reviewer, like myself, who inevitably has to hear a tonne of it.
But, the show’s supposed intelligence aside, there is something else that it’s known for. Which is the absolute ridiculousness of the szechuan sauce debacle, caused by the start of its third season. The raids on McDonald’s stores, across the US, all in search of a long-discontinued tie-in to the original Mulan film.
Frankly, I’ve no idea why people cared so much about a simple szechuan sauce – Especially one with such an uninspired list of ingredients – but that absurd uproar did have some interesting knock-on effects. Including inspiring a whole host of more authentic chinese flavours in the american hot sauce market. As well as a few further afield and even one or two here, in the UK.
Today, I want to look at one example, in particular, which comes to us from Balefire, in durham:
Hey folks, this week we’re exploring the far reaches of the UK with a couple of sauces from northern irish producer, Rock A Doodle Do. A company built on classic metal music puns.
If that’s what you’re after, though, you’re going to have to be patient because I’m not featuring their Can I Play with Mangos quite yet. Instead, I’m focussing on their “Irish Legends” bundle, designed to shine a light on the local mythology. Because, what can I say? I’m a sucker for fantasy themes done well.
It doesn’t take a real fantasy fan to know the one on the left, though. The banshee, famous for its bone-chilling, soul-piercing shriek, is definitely a part of popular culture. Albeit a tad less so than your dragons, unicorns and vampires.
It’s the second sauce – The one on the right – where we see something that I’d consider genuinely obscure.
The Pooka, according to Rock A Doodle Do, is “a Malevolent Spirit and a shape-shifter that can take any form it chooses”. Unlikely to do humans any harm but always eager to be their horse for a wild and death-defying night’s ride, taking delight in their terror.
What they don’t say, however, is that this dark creature is also the steed of the more well-known dullahan – The headless horseman – and that it, like the banshee, can be a deathly omen.
You’d think that that would be a selling point for these sauces.
Happy tuesday again, everybody, and welcome back to another Gingerbeard review.
This time, we’re taking a look at their Ale and Chilli Piccalilli – A product type that I’ve never featured before and one that they make in collaboration with Electric Bear Brewing Co.
Both company logos adorn the label of this jar, along with a bunch of chillies dancing to the boom box from Electric Bear’s Werrrd ale, but that’s about all the visual indication we get of what goes into it.
Unlike on their bloody mary salsa, Gingerbeard do a pretty poor job of conveying what today’s product is, without words, despite the busier design. I’m not too impressed with its outside but let’s see what their picalilli is like within, shall we?
Greetings, spice lovers, would you believe that I have yet another company to show you freebies from?
Cowley’s Fine Food, makers of all forms of jerky, fruit leathers and dried mushrooms, alongside other traditional products like marzipan and truffles.