Friday, 22 March 2024

Coffee Break #3: Dead Pheasant



I drink my coffee black, because that's how I prefer it. Despite my previously discussed aversion to cold milk, I can have milk in coffee... I just don't like it. Also, less calories, so it's win/win for me. I also don't have sugar, because... why would you? 


Apparently there are two calories in double shot Americano and one if you only have a single shot. But why would you only have a single shot?


If you really must increase your calorie intake, you could try it with some toast. But I wouldn't recommend stopping at Mike Pedicin's cafe...


You'd be much better off at Tim Booth's house...


Just watch he doesn't try to sneak some milk in. 


The song at the top of this post, by Sinéad, was written by Sonny Burke and Paul Francis Webster back in the late 1940s. This is the original version...


...but it's also been recorded by all the usual suspects: Frank, Ella, Petula... Tricky


Back when I drank tea, I used to take it black with no sugar as well. I couldn't find any songs about Black Tea, so here's some Pennyroyal Tea for you tea drinkers. 

Give me a Leonard Cohen afterworld
So I can sigh eternally
I'm so tired I can't sleep

I'm a liar and a thief
Sit and drink Pennyroyal Tea
I'm anaemic royalty

(Be warned though, although Pennyroyal leaf extracts are relatively harmless, Pennyroyal Oil can cause syncope, seizures, coma, cardiopulmonary collapse, acute liver injury, renal insufficiency and multiorgan failure. You might be better sticking with a nice cup of coffee.)


The big question is... why did I call this post “Dead Pheasant”? Not because the pheasant had been eating from the Pennyroyal plant, I assure you.


No, this comes from an amusing story my mum told me at the weekend, about the time my dad hit a pheasant with his car on his way home from work. If you drive the country lanes round here, kamikaze pheasants are a constant risk. They really are the stupidest of birds, and appear to have a pathological desire to run out in front of oncoming traffic. Watch them run and you can also see how they’re clearly descended from dinosaurs. Although thankfully, they do less damage to your car than hitting a velociraptor. 


Anyway, my dad hit the pheasant, and being a Yorkshire farmer, he brought it home for tea. Waste not, want not. “I lit some candles,” Mum told me, “and we had a nice romantic meal.”


I hope they washed it down with a nice cup of coffee. Black, of course. 

I like it black, just black as night
It keeps me up, it keeps me tight
It don't matter the size of the cup
Just as long as you fill it up

With black caffeine
Keeps me lean
You can hear me scream
Give me black caffeine


3 comments:

  1. As a Yetties fan* it pains me to say this but the Wurzels' version of "Pheasant Plucker's Son" is superior to Bill Maynard's.

    * In 1970s Dorset Yetties v Wurzels was our equivalent of Slade v Sweet and other such match-ups

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  2. You've posted by far the best song I will hear today - Burnt toast and black coffee, absolutely toptastic rhythm and blues

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  3. My dad also used to come home with deceased pheasants from driving around the highways and byways of Aberdeenshire. As I've said before, I'm sure your dad and my dad could have been pals as they seem to have led parallel lives.

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