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The Frogs probably never say 'je ne sais quoi'; they probably say 'I don't know quoi'.


To be told, or not to be told: that is the question
To which the answer is "Ignorance is bliss."
If you get a rumbly tummy afterwards, then they can tell you about the slugs and snails and puppy-dog's tails.

"Laws are like sausages, it is better not to see them being made."

-Otto von Bismarck (he liked to get blotto)

Quite often, even when I'm preparing the gourmet feast, I have no idea of what goes into the edibles. Admittedly, that's usually when I may have imbibed some of the cooking sherry.

Old Lard? You sure it wasn't old chard?

Even new lard sounds a bit dodgy. I don't even have any lard. I must be missing something in the kitchen.

I think you misheard. It was: "Look, you don't have to eat the vegetables, youse Old Lard arse."

Thank you. You are all too, too kind.

On the whole I believe I would rather not know. And that's a good point; I didn't know people still used lard. I used to use it as a lubricant for cutting metal piping; works a treat it does. Wouldn't use it in the kitchen, though. My arse is lard free, too. It's quite the shapely affair, if I do say so myself.

By the way, something just occurred to me. The Michelin man is the man with the Guide, not the Tires.

That's Tyres, to the ... ahem ... civilized.

Old Lard is the best...fat has to be recycled over and over and over again...that's where all the flavour comes from.

My father uses old lard instead of butter. FUCK!

On bread, that is. He uses the old lard on bread, instead of butter.

I just thought I should add that.

The Michelin Man is the one with the spare tyre - although this image search also shows up some disturbing pictures of fat children.

You're much better off being told. I can't remember for the life of me where I heard this story, but it concerns two fellas who speak no German at a restaurant in Hamburg.

Lacking the linguistic skills to make an educated choice, they plumped randomly for 'kalbsbrann.' Just a few minutes later the head chef sprinted out from the kitchen to point out to them that kalbsbrann is 'what de liddle cow thinks wiz', at which point they just had a plate of chips. Much better off, you see.

Far Car ... I thought it was more like "governments are like sausages - in order to retain your respect and affection for them, it's best not to know too much about what goes into making them".

A bit wordy but, and I spose all these things are apocryphal anyway.

Given that he spends all year rating restaurants, the Michelin man probably looks like the Michelin Man anyway.

Incidentally, the original Michelin Man wore a monocle and smoked a cigar. Presumably they changed him at about the time when cars became mass market enough that even proles could afford to buy tyres.

os… I've seen a few versions of his quote, including one similar to yours. Wish I knew the correct wording. I just grabbed the first one I found via Google.

TimT… you heard of bread 'n' drippings? I think it was a fairly common meal in pre 1950s Australia. Basically it was bread soaked in left over fat.

Russell Allan… right up until the early 80s my Mum used to recycle fat from roasts and stuff. There was some metal contraption she'd keep in the fridge with a sieve on top. She'd poor the warm fat on it and all the meaty grogans would be captured, leaving luverrly creamy fat in the lower container. Then when we all found out that saturated fats were bad for us the evil metal contraption disappeared from the fridge for good.

"Pour," even.


Far Car,
my mum had one of those too. She was fairly young when she died.

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