This week has been a long time coming. Sometimes I take great joy in stating the obvious, however, I’m told that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit so perhaps I should desist.
Not having a fridge makes my most obvious hobby a huge challenge. Add to that finalising the pitch and synopsis for my upcoming book and it was another interesting week for Meat Mike Campbell.
That’s me. And the hobby is cooking, if it wasn’t obvious.
Last week flew by (not literally) A holiday on Monday meant that absent of conscious awareness, it was Thursday in no time. I was training a client and she asked me about the goose from last week; that dense, stubborn big old bird. When she, seemingly naturally, asked “What are you cooking this week?”
I’ve been thinking hard this week. Real hard.
What about? (I intuitively sense you asking even though I write this well before you read it, I think that’s my sixth, no maybe my seventh sense). What’s had my mind ticking over like a clock on fast forward? Puns. Good old puns. I love them, and I use them markedly week to week. I think when writing to entertain you just can’t go past a good play. (Let’s count…). Continue reading
I started out this week going on a bunch of different rollercoasters , literally and figuratively; the week started at Dreamworld Theme Park on the Gold Coast.
I may rabbit on as a guy about having to be a real man and not an oestrogen flooded, out of shape pseudo-man like many we see today, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t act like children from time to time, hence my child-like enjoyment on ‘The Big Drop’ .
My realisation for this week is this: The earth does not orbit the sun purely in order for me to eat 52 meats in 52 weeks.In case you’re not counting along with me (for I most definitely am), this is week 35. 35 weeks out of an entire year in which I have a different meat each week.
It’s starting to get up there, and as I’ve discussed lately, that means I’m starting to run into a bit of sourcing trouble.
There seems to be some debate, on the internet anyway, what the correct and proper plural term for ‘Octopus’ is.
I thought it would be ‘Octopi’, and so did many other people as it turns out, however, it is actually ‘Octopuses’. Perhaps Octopussy is better, certainly for this purpose, as I essentially claimed James Bond status this week by taking down four octopuses in one sitting. Octopussy’s. Whatever…
I get asked many questions about this 52 meats challenge, and frequently. They vary significantly, however, one that has certainly popped up more than most as the weeks have progressed is:
Do you get sick of it?