What I like - by James Griffiths, age 24.5

I like them when they’re in the can
I like them in the frying pan
I like them when they’re in a pot
I like them cold, I like them hot
I like their fins, I like their spine
I like them swimming in some brine
I like their weight, I like their price
I like their colour – that’s pretty nice
I like their look upon my plate
I like deens, ‘cos they taste great.

Amazing Deens

sar·dine1   [sahr-deen]

–noun,plural(especially collectively) -deen, (especially referring to two or more kinds or species) -deens.

1.

the pilchard, Sardina pilchardus, often preserved in oil and used for food.

2.

any of various similar, closely related fishes of the herring family Clupeidae.

A remarkable fish is the Deen, several cans of them should be on every shopping list. Eating Deens improves every aspect of one's life physically and mentally. Those dificient in Deens are easy to spot. The Chinese bird with the face mask, the fat bastard with the back tits, the bearded little shite with a growth defect; all are likely to have Deen deficiency. The Deen is responsible for the growth of the human brain and the birth of civilisation. 300,000 years ago when we moved closer to the coast, the protein and nutrients of the Deen gave us the brain power to inventing shit like the tin can, and the tin can opener (which came much later). When I think about the Deen I go a little bit soft, so I wrote a poem about them.

Deens Deens marvelous Deens

A fish that has plenty of psydoneems

Not one fish or two fish but three fish or more

Deen is the name that will do for them all

They come in a can of varying weight

Fifty gram hundred gram or 1 2 8

Peel the lid back don't cut yourself mind

Reveal if the deen is in oil or brine

Sardinops sagax

Sardina pilchardus

You couldn't fit all of the names in a tardis

Everything eats them Fish mammals birds too

Dolphins and Sword fish, Me, and You!

They hang out in schools and obey local rules

It allows them to move with grace with no shoes

They swerve and they glide and they never colide

Eating Deens everyday will keep you alive

Eat every Deen, it's fine they're divine

The only snack out there that comes with a spine

They'll fill your head full of omega three

So come eat a few Deens with me!

Come eat a few Deens with me!

LR

Oi Oi, Lord Round 'ere, back in the habit.

It's still fuckin' freezin', and my fryin' pan's just gone swallowed a fist full. All that pan o cockin' as a result of Shrove Tuesday. Can anyone tell me why you can't eat butter and eggs for lent? As if Jesus once ate a fuckin' pancake.

Anyway some valentines recipes I concocted whilst back in blighty.

The dirty pigeon.

Take one erection and stick it through the middle of a nice sliced loaf (preferably home made) and get a bird to "peck" it off. Delicious. When almost ready reverse the roles and gaff on her head a bit like a bird shit.

The florentina

Boil some spinach for a couple of minutes in well salted water. Drain. Cover cooking partners face once cooled as if you were making a paper mache mask. Unleash a load right in the middle. There's no eating involved, just spinach, spunk and a little pinch of humiliation. Now that puts a smile on Lord Rounds face.

Chow for now creepy critters.

Oi Oi! Well Lord Round's been away due to some technical problems, but now he's back. Take that naysayers. I want to say, to those who have had your say, I'm not playing your game, I'm not stooping to your pitiable level, so THANK YOU for your contributions. Lord Klot whoever you are, don't breath your thinly vailed racism near me, you sharwoods charlatan, pataks pretender, you gold bricking fuck bucket. Lord Taylor, thanks for the soup recipe, I imagine in the hands of a competant cook it wouldn't taste like a years worth of garlicy spunk. But please, post away.

Lord Rounds had a busy month and so I decided to do an experiment and only eat things on toast. These are two of my favourites. Check it. Toast. Butter. Jam. SLICED KIWI! Check it. Butter. Capers. Dried Thyme. Mash. On toast.

Back with more to bash in your gob soon. For now. Keep it peeled.

LR

Lord Taylor does Cooking - Roasted Garlic and Tomato soup

Now that the guerrilla recipe contributors have established a level of quality on this blog Lord Round never managed to achieve in his time in power, I feel it is about time that I, Leiden Rock Company's number one bass player, show you some of my skillz in the kitchen.

This one's all about garlic, I mean seriously. I ain't mincing my words here, and before you ask we're not doing mince tonight, only garlic. It's one of my favourite recipes, mainly because it's really cheap and simple - there's plenty of opportunities during the cooking of this dish to sit down and y'know, have a beer or something.

Ok let's begin. Here's what you need:

Olive oil
1 whole clove of garlic
8 big tomatos
1 bay leaf
1 vegetable stock cube
1 can of beans - cannellini is cool, so is haricot. You decide!
Bread
Salt and pepper

Serves about 4 (I think)

And this is what you do:

1. Once you've returned from the shops whack the oven on to 180 degrees and crack open one of those beers you've just bought. Have a sit down. In your own time, roughly cut up the clove of garlic into smallish chunks and sit them on an oven tray with a nice bit of olive oil dribbled on them. Cool we're doing well. Roast them for 15 minutes.

2. Cut the tomatos up roughly some time in that 15 minute period. Chuck the tomatos in with the garlic on the dot of 15, and mix it all up. The baking tray has to have sides, because the tomatos are gonna create some liquid. Put the tray (or should I say tin?) back in the oven for another 15. Don't burn it man, that ain't cool.

3. Do another beer and enjoy those nice smells coming from your oven.

4. Get the kettle boiled cos it's time to make some stock up. Make quite a lot of stock, the more the merrier I say. Chuck the tomato-garlic gunk you've just taken out the oven into a pan on the hob and bring to the boil and simmer for half an hour. Whack a bay leaf in too.

5. Go on, you've earned yourself another lager. Relax son.

6. After 15 minutes of simmering, put the beans in. Give the beans a rinse after you've taken them out of the tin. Can you smell the garlic?

7. In an ideal world the soup should be blended at this point. If you haven't got a blender then not to worry. If you have, bring it back to the boil. Season with salt and pepper.

8. Gather the boyz (and maybe a girl or two) around the table, grub's up. Get them to call off any prearranged evening liaisons with the laydeez they might have, we're getting seriously garlicky - better make it a lads night in. Serve with bread, maybe some of that french junk or some of that brown-like-poo Dutch crap. Whatever.

So that's it, wasn't so hard was it? Beat that Lord Round!

Lord Klump- Shakin' that Shit up... a bit.

Fuck a man.
Its LORD KLUMP here, from another jurisDICKtion, AKA the U fuckin K. Hijackin lord round’s rubbish blog.

How To Cook A Curry that’ll have you gaspin’
RECIPE
1) Slam a jar of PATAK’S TIKKA MASSALA SAUCE into your trolley. And also some chicken.
2) In Tescos.
3) Get back and unPak your shopping.
4) Get a pan out and get ready to slam that shit into that pan.
5) Throw the sauce into that aforementioned pan.
6) Cook some chicken in that oven for a bit.
7) Slam the temperature on that hob up to the max and whack that chicken in there - masterchef style.
8) Leave it for about 10 minutes.
9) Eat it. Congratulations, you’re The new curry master
10) Get ready to punish that toilet: its great on the way in, not so great on the way out.

LORD KLUMP 2009

John Law's Carrot and Cut-You-Up Soup

Even when you're on trial for crimes against humanity, you gotta eat / sabotage Lord Round's Crappy Curry Blog.

This is John Law (coming to you from my cell at Scheveningen, the Hague), and my take on a traditional partisan soup. Ingredients vary, depending on what my main man Charles Taylor is able to smuggle past the guards.

Serves 2 (big portions mind)

Ingredients:

1 onion

1 full bulb mini garlic (or about 3-4 cloves of normal)

2 chillies (small, real spicy ones, or equivalent)

2 small potatoes

3 medium-sized carrot

Small can o' chick peas

2 chicken stock cubes

1 litre of water

Plenty o' thyme

If you like it, poach an egg in it

Don't forget seasoning. I'm not joking, and use good olive oil to get the shit going. You know.

Method:

1. Get the BRB to chop your onion, carrots, and the Irish carb (potatoes). Make sure he doesn't chop 'em too small, otherwise you'll have nothing to chew on, and this is no fag soup. Meanwhile, slice the garlic and the bad-ass chillies. Heat up the oil in the saucepan. And don't hold back on the oil. If this concerns you and you have health problems, try another recipe: 'John Law's Carrot'.

2. Throw in the onions — watching out for splash-back — and let 'em soften for a couple of minutes. Add the garlic and chillies, and cook for a further couple o' mins. Put in the chopped carrots and potatoes. Mix that shit up, getting everything nice and glossy and moist (yeh you read right), but don't let it get too hot yet. Unless you want it burnt like a cunt.

3. Presumably you already had the kettle on. If you're knackered from all that cutting up, have a cup of tea. Use the rest of the scolding hot water — 1 litre — to pour onto the unassuming stock. Stir it up, and put it [in] with the rest. Do your thyme, and shake things up with a bit of S'n'P- more P than S. Add the chick peas too, why the fuck not?

4. Turn the heat up to max, and broil the shit out of it. To make things quicker, here's how to thicken it a bit: Get yourself a heaped tablespoon of flour, and mix it with a bit of water, until you have a gloopy, sticky, resilient viscosity to your white mixture. Not too thick mind. Then mix it in with the shit. Simmer until you're into it.

5. If you like it, poach an egg in it. It is recommended not to actually poach an egg in it, rather to poach an egg on the hob next to your JLCACYUS. If you're not familiar with standard vortex and white wine vinegar method, nor with the cling film method, fuck it.

6. Serve with crusty bread or your ex-lover's head.

Oh Yeah! Fuck the Man!