independent

Thursday 31 July 2014

The days of my mam's famous burgers are now over, sadly for My Other Half

Justine O'Mahony

Published 29/01/2013|12:22

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IREALLY don't understand what all the fuss is about regarding the detection of horsemeat in burgers recently. I've eaten far worse than horse meat - my cooking in general is pretty gruesome, and it's never done me any harm! I went through a phase when I was in college of loving those Fray Bentos steak and kidney pies that come in a tin and God only knows what's in them!

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OK so on a serious note, the burgers in question weren't labelled as containing horsemeat but in fairness if you're buying burgers you can't really expect to be getting your best fillet now can you? Everybody knows that it's the crap that's left on the animal after the good bits are cut up, that goes into burgers and sausages.

Himself is very partial to his burgers. Particularly my mother's burgers. When I say my mother's burgers, she doesn't actually make them herself, she buys them in Pettit's, her local supermarket, but by God they're good burgers. Nice and juicy and full of meat that actually tastes like beef, they are truly a culinary delight. We joke about my mother and the burgers. Every time we come to visit, she'll have the burgers out on the counter top ready to cook when Himself comes in. We'll be driving down to my parents house and half way there Himself will say 'I wonder will Carmel have the burgers on yet?'

Last Sunday in anticipation of one (or even two maybe) of my mother's burgers, Himself had a very modest breakfast of porridge and brown bread in lieu of his usual weekend fry. I was too busy shovelling dog poo out of the run to notice but if I had I'd have warned him there wasn't likely to be any burgers this weekend.

See, like many my parents generation, they take the Six O'Clock news as gospel. So if Brian Dobson says horse meat has been found in burgers, so be it. It doesn't matter that it was only a small batch of specific burgers. Dobo said there was horse meat in burgers. End Of.

S O LAST Sunday, Himself arrived in to my parents house full of the joys of spring, hugging my mother and sniffing the air for the aroma of burgers sizzling on a pan. There wasn't any. He waited for my mother to get up and do her thing. Myself and the oul fella opened a bottle of wine. Himself had a cup of tea and a few ginger nuts, still thinking the burgers were on their way.

After an hour and a half had passed, he couldn't contain himself any longer. 'Jesus Carmel, I'm starving here. Any chance of a burger?' She looked at him in horror. 'You wouldn't eat a burger would you? There's horsemeat in them,' she said, shocked to the core, that he would even mention the word.

'Carmel I'd eat the feckin' horse if you put him in front of me right now,' quipped my Other Half, still holding out for a burger. ' There'll be no more burgers in this house I can tell you," announced my mother in that no-nonsense tone she usually saves for telling me my hair is a show and my skirt too tight.

Needless to say Brian Dobson won't be invited for dinner to our house anytime soon!

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