Made in Scotland From Girders

The Ninth of August Two Two Thousand and Eleven. Tuesday.

It's probably going to give me diabetes and rot my teeth, but...

I love Irn Bru.

So do the Russians, it seems.

It has long been the signature drink in my lifestyle to the point where no2 son calls it 'Daddy's drink'. The peformance projects I did for my Creative Arts degree prominently featured empty Irn Bru cans. My fridge is chock full of the 250ml 'four for a pound' bottles that you can get from Poundland.

I first came across Irn Bru at the off licence on the corner of Goulden St a couple of blocks away from where we used to live on Seedley Park Road (they used to do draft beer there, too. I remember Lee Michaels' dad always used to send us there with a demi-john that we'd fill up with mild).  As the youngest of three siblings, when we bought of bottle of pop to share (or 'mineral' as we called it (or 'mingral' as my sister called it) I had no say in what was bought. Consequently it was usually a bottle of Barr's Dandelion and Burdock, Tizer, Lime and Lemonade or occasionally American Cream Soda. Irn Bru wasn't even to be comtemplated. Oh the happy day when I was old enough to buy my own pop.

It seems odd to think of it now, but the flavour I always associate with that first sip of Irn Bru is 'bubblegum'. It doesn't taste like that now, but sometimes, when you let it flow over the back of your tongue like a wine taster sampling the latest red, you get a little hint of that peculiar taste from long ago. The big litre bottles (I think they were actually a pre-metric 32 fluid ounces) came with a deposit 10 then 12 then 15 pence that meant that if you could return enough of them you would have enough to get a new bottle entirely free. Sometimes this had to be bolstered by taking along some of my dad's Boddington's bottles or one of mum's Mackie's botttles. I can still hear the clank of glass in a bag filled with a back yard full of bottles as I traipsed to the shop. I don't remember my first pint, but I recall the thrill of having enough money to buy myself a can from Greenwood's newsagent at the bottom of the road.

The details that stick in your mind - I'm sure that the original can size was 313ml. At any rate, metric or imperial, I'm stll getting through gallons/litres of the stuff a day. On my last trip to Glasgow (Irn Bru in pubs is one of the many wonderful things about Scotland - along with the Macaroni Cheese Pie) they were giving out free branded Irn Bru glasses with the evening paper. My intention was to drink only Irn Bru from it, so I was livid with Shu Shu when she 'deconsecrated' it by filling it with Vimto. I'm not sure if she understood where I was coming from with that - we seperated not long after. The two events are not linked in any way. Probably.

Here's the obligatory link to the Wikipedia page.

Anyway it's gotten late again and I ought to get to bed. Providing I can go to sleep with all this caffeine whizzing round inside (apparently they manufacture Irn Bru in Canada but with the caffeine taken out. Sorry Canada, that's not the way forward).

More soonliest.

As Played By Simon Callow in 'The Unquiet Dead'

The Twenty-Fifth of May Two Thousand and Eleven. Wednesday.

I thought it might be quirky to write out the date on each entry in long hand like that but after the first one I saw that the blog automatically puts the date at the top anyhoo so it does look a bit dumb. But it does set an interesting tension between products of the mechanism and the will so I might continue to do it nevertheless.

Let's be honest, I'm as surprised as you are to see me here 2 days on the trot so that might not even be an issue in the long run.

Oh my waistline. I think the best bakery chain in North Yorkshire (my adopted home and location for (in this order) spawning no1, nuptials, spawning no2 and imminent divorce) is Thomas the Baker. Two reasons: their Veg-able pasties (and 'Yorkshire Pizza' now I think about it - three! Three reasons! (tips hat in direction of Cardinal Biggles and the rest of the Inquisition) and the fact that their name is a bit like Tom Baker - a little-known actor who was in Life and Loves of a She-Devil and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad. And the Dungeons and Dragons film (pronounced 'fillum') (which is rubbish - even though I haven't seen it - and is not to be confused with the cartoon - which is awesome (and I mean that in a completely non-arch, unironic way - some of it is simply brilliant, and thus it becomes my Second Telly Recommendation). My plan today was to go to Thomas for a pasty for my brunch (Vin's working day: start at 6, finish at 2, feed at 10) but I had forgotten that they had closed for refurbishment. So off to Hardies (other Scarborough baker) for an egg mayonnaise barm (and yes, a mushroom quiche thing as well - there's a reason the opening of this paragraph reads what it does). All well and good (although the bread was a little dry) but here is the point of this ramble.

On my way back to work I passed Pizza Hut and there was a blue plaque on the outside that said that Charles Dickens had performed readings there.

I'll say that again.

Charles Dickens performed readings in Pizza Hut, Scarborough.

I think that's what it said. I meant to take a photo to post here (I will do - somebody remind me if I don't) but I forgot and picked up 8 small bottles of Irn Bru from Poundland instead.

I told this to my homeboy, Jon Eves (yo, Jeves! Respec', blood) (the thing about Dickens and pizza, not the Irn Bru bit. Come on!) and he suggested that his visit was probably where the great author received the inspiration to write 'please sir - I want some more.' (Do they still do free refills on pop there?)

Hey, I've just realised! Not just Dickens, but 'Thomas' and 'Hardies'. Cool.

More soonliest