She called it shitty. But to be fair it is probably shabby now after her living there for years not looking after it
She called it shitty. But to be fair it is probably shabby now after her living there for years not looking after itHow did people know that she wasn’t living in a “shabby bungalow?” Not because she’d been doxxed. Because she herself regularly shared photos of the house making it clear that it’s big and has multiple floors! FFS
On 18 January 2010, Barack Obama became the first US president to send a tweet, UK prime minister Gordon Brown visited St George’s Hospital in Tooting and the Guardian’s website published the first piece in what, some weeks later, evolved into the series How to cook the perfect… Although that one, 14 years ago, was actually about whether you should wash mushrooms (tl;dr: yes). Since then, the column – in which I attempt to create a perfect version of a popular recipe – has covered more than 500 dishes. I usually prepare at least six versions before arriving at my final one, so I must have cooked well over 3,000 in the pursuit of perfection. I took only a single week off, when making seven miso ramen from scratch was so overwhelming that my editor took pity on me and extended my deadline. (I think the results were worth it.) People are fascinated by the practicalities of this gig. The most common questions I’m asked are whether I really test all those recipes (yes, and I have the terrible photos to prove it) and what do I do with the leftovers (push them on friends, colleagues, neighbours, fellow food bank volunteers and the ever-accommodating dog). |
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Before I get to that stage though, my editor and I have to agree on a dish I haven’t already covered, which is well enough known to be interesting and sufficiently complex to contain several variables. And I must find at least five credible recipes with significant differences, either online or in my enormous library of cookbooks. (Occasionally, I’ll even visit the British Library, as when someone recommended I consult a 1958 French-language Moroccan cookbook on lamb tagine.) Once I’ve picked the recipes, I make a shopping list. Luckily, living in central London, there’s not much I can’t get locally, but finding piri piri peppers for the beloved Portuguese chicken dish, lye water for boiling bagels and corn syrup for marshmallows all involved a few missions farther afield; I miss the South American stalls in Elephant & Castle and the Irish grocers on Holloway Road, who supplied me with Peruvian aji amarillo for ceviche and properly floury spuds for Irish stew. Having made everything in my tiny kitchen, and canvassed opinions on the merits of each dish (although I’m afraid my decision is final – like the great Darina Allen, you may like parsnips in your beef stew, but the devil’s root is never going to please my tastebuds), I finally write the actual recipe, bringing together the best bits from each in my perfect version. (I cannot stress that “my” enough: this is what works for me, and your tastes may differ – such is the joy of cookery.) Then I test it, tweak it and test it again. Sometimes, the simplest of dishes are the trickiest nuts to crack; I remember my relief when a message from a chef revealed the trick to getting a school dinners-style gypsy tart to set was, counterintuitively, to reduce the cooking time. After all that, I photograph the dish and persuade people to come round with empty Tupperware. In all the years I’ve been doing the job, I’ve never been defeated by a recipe, although some have been more fun than others (I nearly burned the whole terrace down deep-frying porchetta). My favourites, though, remain the ones where I might have made life easier for a few people – sharing the secrets of no-stress hollandaise or mayonnaise, for example, or promoting the little-known fact that you can make great pizza in a frying pan. The other question I’m asked a lot is which perfect recipe I make the most. Sadly, I rarely get the time to repeat them – by the time you read them, I’m already working on dishes for columns three weeks into the future. |
BIB you don't need to imagine, tenderstem. The canal proved on many occasions she only got as far as the supermarket to buy pre-prepared food instead of embarking on the actual task of cooking a recipe! (see wiki, pink button above for any newbies -Interesting editorial from Felicity Cloake in the Guardian food newsletter today, detailing her recipe testing for her weekly column. Can't imagine guest was ever this rigorous.
Since then, the column – in which I attempt to create a perfect version of a popular recipe – has covered more than 500 dishes. I usually prepare at least six versions before arriving at my final one, so I must have cooked well over 3,000 in the pursuit of perfection. I took only a single week off, when making seven miso ramen from scratch was so overwhelming that my editor took pity on me and extended my deadline. (I think the results were worth it.)
People are fascinated by the practicalities of this gig. The most common questions I’m asked are whether I really test all those recipes (yes, and I have the terrible photos to prove it) and what do I do with the leftovers (push them on friends, colleagues, neighbours, fellow food bank volunteers and the ever-accommodating dog).
Once I’ve picked the recipes, I make a shopping list. Luckily, living in central London, there’s not much I can’t get locally, but finding piri piri peppers for the beloved Portuguese chicken dish, lye water for boiling bagels and corn syrup for marshmallows all involved a few missions farther afield; I miss the South American stalls in Elephant & Castle and the Irish grocers on Holloway Road, who supplied me with Peruvian aji amarillo for ceviche and properly floury spuds for Irish stew.
Having made everything in my tiny kitchen, and canvassed opinions on the merits of each dish (although I’m afraid my decision is final – like the great Darina Allen, you may like parsnips in your beef stew, but the devil’s root is never going to please my tastebuds), I finally write the actual recipe, bringing together the best bits from each in my perfect version. (I cannot stress that “my” enough: this is what works for me, and your tastes may differ – such is the joy of cookery.) Then I test it, tweak it and test it again. Sometimes, the simplest of dishes are the trickiest nuts to crack; I remember my relief when a message from a chef revealed the trick to getting a school dinners-style gypsy tart to set was, counterintuitively, to reduce the cooking time. After all that, I photograph the dish and persuade people to come round with empty Tupperware.
In all the years I’ve been doing the job, I’ve never been defeated by a recipe, although some have been more fun than others (I nearly burned the whole terrace down deep-frying porchetta). My favourites, though, remain the ones where I might have made life easier for a few people – sharing the secrets of no-stress hollandaise or mayonnaise, for example, or promoting the little-known fact that you can make great pizza in a frying pan.
The other question I’m asked a lot is which perfect recipe I make the most. Sadly, I rarely get the time to repeat them – by the time you read them, I’m already working on dishes for columns three weeks into the future.
May I add that even my dog who is partial to cat sick turned his nose up at the horse spunk lasagneBIB you don't need to imagine, tenderstem. The canal proved on many occasions she only got as far as the supermarket to buy pre-prepared food instead of embarking on the actual task of cooking a recipe! (see wiki, pink button above for any newbies -hahahahaha ha as if anybody is even looking her up these days)
Speaking of, twelve years ago today a just-turned-24 year old curtain-twitching Brigadier General Insufferable-PompousOldFart (Retired) FURIOUS Jack Monroe who WISHED TO PUNCH THE NEWSPAPER STANDThe downgrading of her blog back to "Our Southend: Musings of a Provincial Woman" and the removal of an agent link on her hellsite profile suggest no return to the limelight.
Of course she was appalled and more concerned about the council "wasting funds on paint". Add in the prerequisite violence towards a man whose dog mauled a child.Speaking of, twelve years ago today a just-turned-24 year old curtain-twitching Brigadier General Insufferable-PompousOldFart (Retired) FURIOUS Jack Monroe who WISHED TO PUNCH THE NEWSPAPER STANDView attachment 2828582 and was having conniptions about PAINTING THE CIVICView attachment 2828584
had just written yet another of her
STAR LETTERS View attachment 2828598
and sent it off to her beloved THE NEWSPAPER, as immortalized in the PRESS AND FAME section of her blog View attachment 2828618
We can all celebrate the 12th anniversary of its publication on the morrow. Maybe we can even have hats🪖 in the shape of the (painted) Civic.
Incidentally it’s still available at THE NEWSPAPER too, with the full address of the luxury executive £725 a month absolute slum she was living in at the time of the terrible poverty and the inaugural fantasist histrionic musings of Hunger Hurts: My Am Dram About No JamMaking Headlines Again
Ah, I appear to have made the Echo's headline letter again... Headline was 'My disgust at smug owner of dog that mauled boy, 7.' "I was appalled by the photograph of Rowan Diedrick, the 29 year old...web.archive.org
Her Headline Letters success reminds me of this anecdote:Speaking of, twelve years ago today a just-turned-24 year old curtain-twitching Brigadier General Insufferable-PompousOldFart (Retired) FURIOUS Jack Monroe who WISHED TO PUNCH THE NEWSPAPER STANDView attachment 2828582 and was having conniptions about PAINTING THE CIVICView attachment 2828584
had just written yet another of her
STAR LETTERS View attachment 2828598
and sent it off to her beloved THE NEWSPAPER, as immortalized in the PRESS AND FAME section of her blog View attachment 2828618
We can all celebrate the 12th anniversary of its publication on the morrow. Maybe we can even have hats🪖 in the shape of the (painted) Civic.
Incidentally it’s still available at THE NEWSPAPER too, with the full address of the luxury executive £725 a month absolute slum she was living in at the time of the terrible poverty and the inaugural fantasist histrionic musings of Hunger Hurts: My Am Dram About No JamMaking Headlines Again
Ah, I appear to have made the Echo's headline letter again... Headline was 'My disgust at smug owner of dog that mauled boy, 7.' "I was appalled by the photograph of Rowan Diedrick, the 29 year old...web.archive.org
Now I’ve gone down a dangerous wormhole of the 24 year old twat’s other insufferably pompous letters to THE NEWSPAPER, featu Marie Anti-onetteIt's almost a pastiche of what one would think Jack would write but actually did write
Not just PRESS AND FAMESorry how did it pass me by that she had “Press and Fame” as a category. Gimme a break
I guess it’s far too late to have “Puddles Pity Party’ as a left-field thread title nomination. Imagine people trying to work that one outI got a pre-sale ticket notification for this, and thought that guest was finally making her comeback.
View attachment 2828624
https://giphy.com/Zg7clvqHE3CdWHer chairs, to me, are like the stars, pinpoints of matter in an otherwise vast, empty space.
Yep, and the fact she's made some kind of living from other's genuine misery and poverty is especially galling. Never once when there's been an excess of money have I shoved coke up my nose.In the meantime, poverty stats made public today and everything is so shitting shit.
Always a Conor Oberst song"wasting funds on paint"
Because she is the gift that just keeps on giving. We shall be here for years discovering ever yet more lunacies From Her Pen and Gob (that should be what her website is called!)Sorry how did it pass me by that she had “Press and Fame” as a category. Gimme a break
She did say she had to go into witness protection.this is an excellent point.
for me personally, I'm vaguely interested in why she hasn't moved, if she hasn't moved, because of all the reasons she said she was going to move.
eg how is she affording the rent on her massive house, why did she abandon her plan to downsize so she could save for a deposit, etc. I'm sort of interested in how much this whole moving thing was just another aspect of her grift.
I'm also morbidly fascinated by where all the 17 bookcases and 21 sideboards etc are gonna go in her new place, if there is one, but only because she's made such a performance of it all, packing and donating and all that
If she has moved or does move, I couldn't care less where to, and will report & denounce ( as I'm sure you all will) anyone other than jack that tries to publish her private info.
First Rule Of Witless Projection is you must post a picture of your new disguise to a Glasto-sized group of your closest chums.She did say she had to go into witness protection.
You might think that announcing that on twitter would be breaking the first rule of witness protection, but I’m sure Essex Police Celeb Squad told her it’s fine.
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