
One of my favourite things to eat these days is a sandwich. Some nice bread…walnut maybe or if not just some fresh thick cut brown bread. Slightly toasted. I then add a generous helping of Pesto. I tend to use Jamie Oliver’s but any will do. Then two big chunks of Black Pudding (obviously some brands are better than others), straight from the pan. Hot and still sizzling. I then flake some parmesan cheese over it and watch as it melts from the heat of the pudding. Delicious.
To some people that actually sounds disgusting. I can understand that. For while its delightful treat to me these days, I wouldn’t have always thought so. When I was younger, I never really liked black pudding. There was something about it. It looked rubbery and it smelt funny.
Back then I probably didn’t know what pesto was and I certainly wasn’t going to be eating anything green and runny. The Cheese? No way. Too strong tasting for my likes. Besides cheese in Crumlin means Easy Singles. Anything else is for snobs.
And I always preferred white pudding to black. Some people might not know black pudding. Its usually called blood sausage in other parts of the world. I don’t know what white pudding is called.
I should explain. Being a young man in Crumlin, life was very simple. Jumpers for goalpost, Home when the streetlights came on and all food was boiled or deep fried. We didn’t bother with things like seasoning…or heaven forbid flavour. Things were cooked until they started to fall apart and eaten with brown sauce or ketchup between two slices of Brennan’s slice white pan.
Now that I’m 33, a man of the world with an mature and educated pallet? I really cannot get enough of those ingredients combined to make the worlds tastiest and handiest snack. And you can eat it at any time of the day. Breakfast, lunch, late night snack. Just amazing. An explosion of various flavours which pretty much make my day whenever I indulge.
It does make me realise how my tastes have change. When I was younger there was so much that I just didn’t like the taste of. Strong cheese, Red wine, Olives, Coffee. All these things that the twenty year old me would have rejected like Duncan Bannatyne turns down a shoddy business proposal. Now they are the first on my shopping list.
Its not just my opinions on sophisticated dinner party snacks of suburbia. I don’t have the same outlook when it comes to things like movies, music and people even.
One of my best friends in the world these days used to annoy the life out of me. But now I won’t hear a bad word said about her and all her really annoying habits. Singing and dancing in the car. Watching hours on end of Living TV. Her borderline alcoholism, I don’t care. I still love the bones of her. She knows who she is.
I used to think the two best bands in the world were Ocean Colour Scene and Oasis. In that order.
One of my favourite TV programmes was This Life (no, not the consumer affairs programme with Esther Rantzen). The 1996 BBC drama centred around 5 twenty something’s just graduated from college, finding their way in the world now that they had to face up with responsibilities like work. I loved it. They drank. They swore. They had sex. They had problems not exactly like the ones I had…but ones that I’d like to have. The programme just appealed to me. It was raw and gritty. It was real.
One drunken night 12 years later I decided I wanted to see how Miles and Egg and Millie and Anna were. I even wanted to check in on Ferdie. So I went on to amazon.co.uk and bought series 1 and 2 of This Life DVD box set (I should have never been given a credit card and the internet). I was very excited when it arrived. I watched three episodes in row as soon as I could. Something didn’t seem right. They were awful. There wasn’t a single character who didn’t need a good slap.
And it wasn’t that it had dated as such. These were the people who spoke to me so vociferously a decade earlier. But everything they had to say was just so awful. They complained and moaned. They cheated on their partners. They had a hard time in work so they took Class A narcotics. Life was hard for them. So!!! Life is hard for everyone. Being a sorry self centred middle class British twit won‘t change it.
It wasn’t them. It was me. My taste had changed. I was being overly nostalgic about some cult TV programme from when I was 20. In the bigger picture how I felt about these characters was unimportant. It did get me thinking though. How do we know if something is good or just cool
This Life was zeitgeist. At the time people thought it was groundbreaking TV. Oasis where at one stage one of the biggest cultural (I use the word loosely) phenomena on the planet. Green Day used to be edgy punks.
When I was twenty I may at one stage or another denounced the following. The Beatles, Goodfellas and the work of Martin Scorcesse in general, Woody Allen , Frank Sinatra, Jazz music and any kind of cinema which involved any of the 3 subs (subtext, subtitles or submarines….still not crazy on submarine movies).Over the years I have avoided things like the Sopranos, Amelie and Bob Dylan because they didn’t seem like my cup of tea.
Without wanting to sound blatantly obvious, like JD at the end of every episode of Scrubs, I guess what I’m trying to say is try everything. And if its not great at first. Try it again. Give it a chance. One thing that drives me batty are people who won’t try something because it sounds weird. Live Life you blinkered buffoon. Its people like you who give the Irish a bad reputation as little islanders with bad skin and poor love making ability.
Woo. Sorry about that. Rant over.
So my taste has changed. Thankfully. But does that make me any better as a person? Probably to be honest.
I know, of course, that no one should be judged on their taste . I mean just because someone likes the latest Muse album does that really make them a bad person. No it doesn’t. It just means they have terrible taste in music. Or maybe they are 12.
There is a part in High Fidelity were John Cusack says that its more important what somebody likes than what they are like. Of course as he ’grows’ he realises this isn’t necessarily true. But maybe he has a point. Could you spend the rest of your life with someone who thought 2 pints of lager and a Packet of Crisps was cutting edge comedy.
And lets be honest, who hasn’t judged me based on my pesto and pudding sandwich?