UlstermanAbroad
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Loosely linked to 'Meanwhile on the Ukrainian Border'.
Talk of offal, caused memories to surface.
In my early 20's. I found myself on a train in Russia, with a small number of other British 'guests'.
Our Russian hosts got us hammered the previous night, with the drinking starting as soon as we
boarded our train. Through dinner and until the next morning. Their weapon of choice was vodka
from various Warsaw Pact states and of many flavours. All of strengths, illegal in the UK.
Breakfast was at around dawn and consisted of two things only. Hot, strong, sweet tea and this.
Steak tartare.
I'd heard of steak tartare. I'd seen it once. But, I'd never had to eat it. I'd had no inkling that this would be breakfast.
I was barely able to make it to the breakfast car. After hanging onto a porcelain toilet bowl for an hour or so, praying
for a pistol, so I could shoot myself. To this day, I have no memories of the previous night. Nor the three that followed.
But I can remember each breakfast. Raw meat and a raw egg, both of dubious origins. Accompanied by yet more vodka. No doubt to kill anything lurking in the raw meat.
Like steak tartare, revenge is a dish best served cold. But that's a story for another time.
I realise that steak tartare will hardly register. When compared to some of the foods you guys must of eaten at home or
on your travels. However, at the age I was then and amidst the almost lethal amounts of alcohol we consumed. It was near the top of my list of foods, that I didn't wish to come face to face with. Just after anything that I couldn't identify by sight, smell or touch.
Talk of offal, caused memories to surface.
In my early 20's. I found myself on a train in Russia, with a small number of other British 'guests'.
Our Russian hosts got us hammered the previous night, with the drinking starting as soon as we
boarded our train. Through dinner and until the next morning. Their weapon of choice was vodka
from various Warsaw Pact states and of many flavours. All of strengths, illegal in the UK.
Breakfast was at around dawn and consisted of two things only. Hot, strong, sweet tea and this.
Steak tartare.
I'd heard of steak tartare. I'd seen it once. But, I'd never had to eat it. I'd had no inkling that this would be breakfast.
I was barely able to make it to the breakfast car. After hanging onto a porcelain toilet bowl for an hour or so, praying
for a pistol, so I could shoot myself. To this day, I have no memories of the previous night. Nor the three that followed.
But I can remember each breakfast. Raw meat and a raw egg, both of dubious origins. Accompanied by yet more vodka. No doubt to kill anything lurking in the raw meat.
Like steak tartare, revenge is a dish best served cold. But that's a story for another time.
I realise that steak tartare will hardly register. When compared to some of the foods you guys must of eaten at home or
on your travels. However, at the age I was then and amidst the almost lethal amounts of alcohol we consumed. It was near the top of my list of foods, that I didn't wish to come face to face with. Just after anything that I couldn't identify by sight, smell or touch.
