Pease pudding hot
pease pudding cold
pease pudding in the pot nine days old
some like it hot
some like it cold
some like it in the pot nice days old
mmm chopin would've have sweated blood from the stress if it'd been his job to write that one!
It was a very disturbing song to me as a child, because at first I thought it said 'please' pudding, but why would anyone ask to have pudding that had been cold and festering in a cooking pot for over a week. This led me to believe that it was a song about a horrible, tasteless 'alsorts' cassarole that working class victorian mothers would make by throwing anything they had into a big pot and simmering it into a grey, gruel-like mash with no nutritional content, serving the same purpose as polyfiller on a child's stomach. The song seemed to be some sort of children's anthem of defeatism, a way of making poverty and childhood somehow pleasant and normal.
"mmmm cold nine day old porrige again mum? Well thank God, some kids like cold pudding, some posh bastards like it heated up alittle, but not me, I like a pudding that has been caked to the bottom of a pan for atleast a week. What's for breakfast tomorrow? Another beating? AND a week in the broom cupboard! Oh mum!"
I had totally forgotten about this 'David Pelzer novel' of a song until a few days ago when I saw a product I never knew existed.
Apparently pease pudding is a sort of vegetable mash which comes in a can and is mostly found in the industrial towns in the middle of England. Intended to be served with meats such as beef or bacon, although the can suggests that you can also eat it in a quiche or dolloped on top of a scone.
I'm such a foreigner! I only tried cornedbeef hash a few months ago. Next I'll start talking in an American accent about how England is boring with wierd food and that Europe is so small that you can walk from France to Russia in a day.
Anyway I bought a can of pease pudding and I don't dare open it, it looks so old I feel like my mum has just sent me down the road with a farthing before school to get her three packs of cigarettes for the day and a can of pease pudding for dinner.
Errr I'll have mine hot with lots of salt and cheese please
xxx
1 comment:
you know that song "on top of spagheeeeti. all covered in cheese. i lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed..." i hated that song, and cried when it got to the bit about it turning to mush under the bush.
i think i probably still would
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