Home | Features | Music | Fashion | Interviews | Archive | Contact Us



Mill Town Menu

by Glenn


You canít get Black Peas down southÖ. No, this isnít a half arsed attempt at a poor Peter Kay impression; you canít get Black Peas anywhereÖ. 

ÖApart from Lancashire, on Bommy night.


I donít know what it is about the good people of Lancashire but us simple mill folk roll out the barrel (ED-hang on, thatís Cockneys?) when it comes to scran on November the 5th

While most of the civilised world are wrapping the spuds in foil and sticking Bangers up cats arses, people in Lancashire are preparing their feasts. 

Iíve only come to appreciate it these past few years since Iíve moved down south. It was something that I had took for granted, even back home the chance to eat my traditional fare was often sidetracked for many a year because of the drug intake, fireworks always look proper ace on a Strawberry or an OmÖ. 

But you could guarantee as I was trooping around outside the Offy firing rockets at busses with my palís, one of my Auntieís or my mateís Mamís would be putting the finishing touches to a big feed. 

Hereís the menu- 

1.  Weíll start the night with a cup of Black Peas doused in vinegar as Dad and Uncle Ronnie try getting the fire going in the piss wet using petrol and some unknown flammable substance found in tíback of tíshed.

2.  While the young unís are spelling swearwords in the night skies with Sparklerís we are now onto the Potato Pie and Mushy Peas. Alternatively, we might be eating Hot-Pot with a big fuck of piece of crust that should be hard on once side and soggy underneath along with a side of Red Cabbage. A good Bommy spread should always have the choice of both Potato Pie or Hot-Pot.

3.  As Egon Ronay once said- you can always tell a posh restaurant when the Menu reads ĎDesertí and not ĎAftersíÖ. Anyway, for afters, Parkin Cake- for those unaccustomed to this delicacy, itís sort of like Ginger Cake.

4.  To cap the night, Treacle toffee, for people with a poor set of gnashers this must be avoided at all costs. Itís a substance so strong its known to be used by CutíníShut merchants to glue write offís together. 


Why we do it I donít know? Id like to think it goes back to the old Celtic festival of Samhain that the was the original bonfire celebration held at the same time of year that was conveniently usurped by the establishment to celebrate Guy Fawkes not blowing up parliament.

Stitch up man. It goes all the way to the top, but Iím yet to confirm this as no beardy on the History Channel has said owt about it yet  

Iíve lived in a fair few places around these British Isles and nobody celebrates Bommy night as we do, infact, down south they call it Bonny night (tee-hee!), of course all the kids get up to the usual stuff- bangers through letterboxes, rockets fired at yer head etc but the foods not the same and Isnít that what festivals are all about, food?

In Italy peasant food is idolised as something noble, so shove your baked spuds up your arse and get with it.  

You mark my words, in a few years time theyíll be serving this every October/November in the Ivy.


Home | Features | Music | Fashion | Interviews | Archive | Contact Us

Copyright © 2006 Swine Magazine. All rights reserved.