Some blogs I know

  • Freckles and Doubt
    Considering her mastery of narrative structure etc. (insert narrative structure here.....)
  • Trailer Park Refugee | just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight….
    Just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight...
  • Exile on Pain Street | Straddling the Hudson River. One foot in NYC, the other in suburban New Jersey.
    One man's story, etc.....
  • Fat Man on a Keyboard
    'At first they came for the smokers but I did not speak out as I did not smoke. Then they came for the binge drinkers but I said nothing as I did not binge. Now they have an obesity strategy...'
  • New York Bike Blog
  • Belgian Waffle
    Prolific? Bien sur. Waffle? Not a bit of it. The best thing to come out of Belgium since Leffe Blonde, and that is saying something.
  • Non-working monkey
    'Why taking work seriously turns you into a cock', among other lifesavingly important career advice.
  • Razorblade of life
    'Not so much cutting-edge as half-cut and still sliding'...
  • blue cat
    This blue cat fellow (he writes for the telly you know) issues forth an apparently effortless stream of grade-A funniness that has me overcome in turns by helpless laughter and shameful, powerful envy. There I've said it.
  • Joella
    Joella in Oxfordshire. Working for The Man while training to be a plumber (I think!). Loves gherkins, hates aubergines... and Fascists.
  • Bushra
    Bushra's blog/ homepage/ call it what you want
  • Dubsteps (formerly Hobo Tread)
    Thoughts of Skif, a Havant and Waterlooville fan exiled in Liverpool- possibly the most engaging non-league football writing to be found on the web- and with a little bit of politics, and plenty more beside!
  • Tired Dad
    The Man Who Very Nearly Fell Asleep
  • troubled diva.
    Mike, the self-styled 'Fairy Godmother of British Blogging'. He got us all published in a book, you know...
  • Private Secret Diary
    Dispatches from deepest Norfolk. Not that private and not that secret. Just consistently hilarious.
  • The man who fell asleep; Sadness and ecstasy in unequal measures
    The book inspired by this veteran site (A Year in the life of The Man Who Fell Asleep) features the 'sarcastic polar bears of north London' among other oddities that the author manages somehow to render absolutely plausible.
  • Pete Ashton's Internet Presence
    Birmingham's finest. Writing with enviable clarity on every subject under the sun since 2000 (a very long time indeed!). Now with added nice pictures of canals and stuff...
  • Looby
    'An awkward, clumsy fellow; a lubber; a novice'....a venerated (if refreshingly irreverent) blogging institution. Lancaster's very finest!
  • RichardHerring.com
    The comedian Richard Herring's kind of online diary thing. Always worth a visit.

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« Nuneaton | Main | Polska Diskoteyka- continued »

September 29, 2006



//a jar of Polish gherkins, a bag of dried Iranian figs, and a box of Daz washing powder//

There's an alternative nouvelle cuisine recipe hidden in there somewhere...

City Slicker

I have always had a soft spot for pierogi's


Welcome City Slicker... I had never heard of pierogis so have just looked them up on wikipedia... and found that they are a ubiquitous Eastern European dumpling- the Warwaw equivalent to the Greggs pastie, perhaps. Whenever I can summon up the courage to pay a return visit to my local grocer I will be sure to ask for them by name, in a bid to salvage some of my Polskaphile credibility (if that is the word for admirers of all things Polish...). I should think a couple of pierogis will make a lovely accompaniment to Iain's recipe suggestion (and I'm not going to argue with Iain on nouvelle cuisine, given that he lives in Paris and all, where they know about such matters).


You're a true statesman, wor Jonathan. On your next visit, I think you might like to go in for the little fudgey Polish sweets with a cow on the wrapper. I think they are called Krowki. You could even try saying that you "need" some Krowki, and bang your fist on the counter a bit to add a touch of authenticity.

I can't wait for the next installment and hope it will involve some brawling!


I have a request: Please demand 5 bottles of Vodka, delivered in a Victoria Wood style, with a funny little song thrown in for good measure, then report back. Thank you.

I'm about to go to the building society as Stephen Fry.


I've always had a soft spot for Poles too. Mainly because of my Polish Uncle Bill.

Only he's actually Ukrainian.

(if you're going to pick up 3 indiscriminate items better make sure you've got more than £20 about your person, unless you want even more trauma)


Buying Walkers crisps in this shop is like ordering an omelette and chips in an Indian restaurant...

We've got a similar dilemma at the moment with Beneditos, the Portuguese delicatessen on the corner of our road (what it's doing in Splott I have no idea). We've been in a few times and marvelled at the salami, but not bought any yet. And then the other day Jenni took the plunge and bought a bottle of Portuguese red wine - and it turned out to be not very pleasant at all. We want to patronise the shop and help to keep it alive (when it was shut recently for a while we were concerned, but it turned out the proprietors must have been on holiday) - but even at the risk of choosing another bottle of awful plonk? It's a dilemma.

As for pierogis, one of my favourite pubs in Nottingham was run by a chap whose parents were Polish. His mum used to make fresh pierogis for the pub menu. Never tried them, but they obviously went down well.


Brilliant - the Benny Hill leer as you left the shop! You really describe that hand-wringing cringy awkwardmess that is such a major probelm in the life of the Modern English Liberal has to deal with in his encounters with foreigners.

Funnily enough there's a Polski Sklep opened just round the corner here. The gorgeous black-haired 20something shop assistant is doing wonders for my aesthetic appreciation of Eastern Europe.

You'll definitely have to give the Diskoteyka a go as well.


Kabanos. You can't go wrong with kabanos. One of the many Polish delis that have sprung up in Shepherd's Bush sells that well-known Polski speciality, er, Polish copies of Playboy and Penthouse...


'Hand-wringing cringy liberal awkwardness'- I couldn't have summed it up better myself Looby. There is also this perhaps slightly self-important conviction we suffer from- that what people from overseas most desperately crave is the approval of ourselves, the Guardian-reading classes. In reality the Polish guy probably really couldn't care less whether I go to his shop or not.. and I bet he would rather I spent a tenner on Daz Washing Powder and Walkers Crisps than half that amount on his more exotic fare in a cackhanded attempt to gain his approval...

And Jamie, I can see why there would be a demand for native-language Playboy; the editorial content of some of these publications is really quite surprisingly topical and incisive you know... or, er, so I am told...


Up here in the North East we are delighted to be driven about by our newly recruited, charismatic Polish bus drivers. They are totally unphased by Geordie accents, loutish behaviour, uncontrollable school kids, complaining grannies, people with twenty pound notes and screaming babies in buggies. They have even been forgiven for their cavalier attitude towards timetables and bus routes, preferring to take a short cut if the designated road looks too congested - a pragmatic approach which appeals to the Geordie's adaptable, good natured outlook on life.


Is this story just a cover up for some mid-life crisis your thinking of having. Is the next step to tell Charlotte that you are going out to a Pole dancing club.

I agree with Izzy about the bus drivers although the driver who tried to take a bus load of City fans the wrong way up a one way street was given a crash course in the seedier side of the Mancunian dialect before being greeted with a chorus of 'Well dones' and a few thumbs ups when he succesfully deposited us at the City of Manchester stadium 5 mins before kick off..

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