Gazpacho Gripe

Balls to summer then. I don't even care if it wants to chuck it down with God's gushing tears just days before I go camping with Morris dancers.


During the minor flirtation with sunshine last weekend (as mentioned in a previous, hilarious blog), I went on the hunt for summery, refreshing foodstuff for my Saturday, garden-drenched luncheon. A carton of Gazpacho soup enticed me and I merrily purchased it. However, due to a rather late breakfast of bacon and wobbly eggs (provided by the chickens that live down the road), I did not get round to eating it and looked forward to having it on the following day. The Lord's Day, if you will.


But Sunday dawned, rather grey and undecided, and I passed up the opportunity of sitting in a garden, as it would have resulted in my taking all my clothes off, then having to put them all back on again, and then taking them all off again and then... You get the idea.


Obviously, I could still have partaken in the afore-mentioned carton of soup. However, the thing that makes gazpacho stand out from the others is that it is to be served cold. This is why it was the perfect choice for a sunny, summery day. I know that it is supposed to be cold for two reasons:

1. It says so on the carton
2. Back in my youth, when I dabbled in geekdom, I was a fan of the Red Dwarf novels. These were far more comical and in-depth books of the television series (starring Chris Barrie, the darling of Ringwood Recreation Centre). In one particular chapter, Rimmer has been trying to schmooze with the hierarchy of the ship, and finally gets an invite to dine at the Captain's table. He is already making a fool of himself, but is under the impression he is charming those around him, when gazpacho soup is served. Horrified at its chilly temperature, he haughtily sends it back, creating a scene with regards to the inefficiency of the kitchen staff. Millions of years later, he still blames this social faux pas as the reason he never was able to make it as an officer. This is a pretty dry account what I remember to be a very funny story in the book...

Anyway. I thought I would be able to have it for lunch yesterday, which, although not a scorcher, was relatively pleasant. But I was whisked of to the pub for some greasy bacon. So I have had it today, and it feels as cold and wet and damp in my stomach as the goddamn day is outside.


This shit-blog was posted for your perusal against my better judgement.