Give the marrow a stuffing.
I was given a marrow.
It was grown by David in his allotment and it is a most splendid creature. I am delighted with the marrow. I have fond memories of stuffed marrow. I was often given a marrow in my youf and it would invariable travel a while with me before I came upon a kitchen and slaughtered it. The marrow has been in the kitchen on the good ship Bones looking forward to being cooked. This morning I realised that if I was going to cook it as planned on Sunday I really needed to fish out a recipe and go and buy some ingredients. I am allergic to tomato and all things tomato including peppers. The recipe situation is not going well.
She’s trying to stuff a marrow,
It’s sitting on the side,
It’s languishing sedately,
Waiting to be dined – upon.
She’s trawling through the internet,
Ploughing through the pages,
Trying to find a recipe,
It’s taking bl**dy ages!
The rhyme stopped because I burst out laughing at it and I didn’t want to have to explain myself to my colleagues.
Rhymes do that sometimes.
posted by MortimerBones at
3:35 PM
4 Comments:
We have the same problem, the Marra has been sat in the cratch for 10 days now and hasn't inspired a poem as yet, but who knows what may happen? Let us know if you find a delicious end to the problem.
Fabulous - it made me lol
:)
The solution, I'm afraid, is to chuck the marrow on the compost heap and remember to pick them while still small in future. Courgettes are ok, sliced lengthways, grilled on the BBQ or a ridged pan, then dressed with lemon, olive oil and parsley, and they're positively ambrosial when cut into matchsticks and deep fried, but the marrow is just watery and flavourless. IMO, of course
Andy Rankin has just given us a whole bagful of marrows.....
Jackie has put me in charge of Marrow Disposal....
I'm not sure if this means a series of controlled explosions or risking taking them to work and braving the inevitable innuendo.
It's a tough old life.
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