I have arrived in Manchester. Coronation Street immediately springs to mind for most people as Manchester's sole contribution to the culture of English speakers everywhere, so I was told to look out for people from that program. I unfortunately have missed a number of the latest episodes so I was not sure what to make of the reaction I got when I asked a local if the person I had just seen walk by was in fact Ena Sharples. They seemed a bit upset in fact. I may have spotted Bobby the cat as well, but I didn't get a good look, it may of course been Bobby's stunt double.
Manchester has opened my eyes regarding cooking. I was fairly certain I was near the bottom of the list as far as cooking ability goes but it would appear that here there is some stiff competition here. The local McDonalds is a high mark around here as far as food is concerned. In New Zealand they have to rely on having the best playground and slick marketing, so that for instance my boys first words where 'McDonalds', and they learnt early to spot and identify the golden arches from a distance roughly the same as the distance from the Hub car park down to the McDonalds in Hereatunga street. Here in Manchester, McDonalds can market themselves as a truly family restaurant because the quality of their food is so much better than the rest.
The local Pub has an impressive menu but it's all rubbish. The kitchen has a picture of each individual dish pasted on the wall, and all the' chef' has to do is put the food on a plate straight from the packet and lovingly microwave for three minutes on high. He then checks it's just like the picture, before serving. The Hotel we are staying at consider all that fuss and attention to detail way over the top for their guests, we get a 'food' considerably less well made. Even that well known contribution to modern international haute culture, the Aussie male, has had a moan about the local food.
The people flipping burgers and scooping chips in McDonalds have an arrogance and air about them of people at the top of their game, as they are the cities top chef. Master chef Manchester could blind test them and they would be the only one capable of successfully distinguish the food from the cardboard.
As the saying goes, in the land of the blind the one eyed man is king.
