Tuesday 21st June
I rang Jamal today to see how he is and make sure that he eventually got home. He sounded fine and told me that he’s actually quite pleased to have been deported because he got a free flight back, which was a result because he had no money left after spunking it all on moonshine fermented camel sperm. (excuse the pun)
He said that by the time he got on the plane he’d calmed down and couldn’t remember anything that had happened. He said he’d put it down to a cumulative effect of too much camel “juice” in the space of one week. As you may know, there’s a lot of toxins in camel seed, which unless prepared correctly can cause a build up resulting in camel psychosis. It’s quite plausible that this could have been the cause of his madness.
Except it wasn’t.
The smile on his face that I could hear down the phone (you know what I mean) was soon wiped off when I informed him that he hadn’t gone temporarily insane with camel psychosis after all.
After too many Stellas last night, Sandy started laughing and told us that he’d spiked Jamal’s drink with some pills that he’d scored from his mate at the kebab house because Jamal had cussed his mum.
Horrified, I asked Sandy what he’d said and he replied that Jamal had called his mum a “pussy bludclart” and then kissed his teeth.
I said “what, when he was practising his ghetto accent, ghetto cussing and kissing his teeth?” to which Sandy became vague and mumbled something about being sure it was about his mum… or someone’s mum, or some rum or something…
He tailed off guiltily.
“So let me get this straight Sandy” I yelled at him. “You spiked Jamal’s drink because he cussed your mum, except that he probably didn’t?”
“I thought it would be funny innit blud” said Sandy under his breath, unable to meet my eyes.
For fuck’s sake. I actually feel sorry for poor old Jamal. No one deserves to be spiked, not even Jamal, and Sandy’s unrepentant attitude means that there are going to be fireworks when those two see each other again. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that one…
Anyway, once Jamal had recovered from the shock and I’d dissuaded him from coming straight back out here to throttle Sandy, I updated him on some business that I’m out here taking care of.
As some of you know, I’m toying with the idea of launching a new range of Muck oesophagus products. Our dear departed- sorry, deported friend Jamal swears by oesophagus, whether it’s grilled, fried, roasted or grated and made into soup.
“Good oesophagus puts hairs on your chest!” he likes to proclaim, followed by “especially the women!”
As you can imagine, I was sceptical to say the least, until I tried it for myself at the Camel Toe gentlemans’ club in West Croydon that Jamal owns. It is absolutely delicious!
Jamal’s friend Zam Zam is the head chef, and is reportedly the best oesophagus chef in the greater Hindu Kush area. Jamal tempted him over with the promise of a huge salary and complimentary geishas, and he’s become a sensation, with the Camel Toe club the place to eat and be seen. Time Out awarded him five stars in their up and coming ethnic section, and Gordon Ramsay is reported to have said “the fucking boy’s a fucking genius.”
His roast oesophagus on a bed of fresh camel champ, drizzled with a reduced jus de trachea is to die for. I know our resident foodie here at Muck FM, Ecaked, has been on at Jamal for a long time to get the recipe, but Zam Zam has refused to disclose the exact combination of herbs and spices that goes into the dish.
“Born in the Kush, dies in the Kush” said Zam Zam of the recipe.
I never order anything else when I go to the Camel Toe, and it’s one of the few occasions when I’m glad to know Jamal, because as family I avoid the waiting lists for a table that currently stretch weeks ahead.
Anyway, I’ll get to the point. Jamal has a rich camel importing friend who was so impressed with his roast oesophagus on his visit to the Camel Toe that he has offered to put forward the money to fund Muck brand oesophagus products. He wanted a new slant on the whole tired oesophagus product advertising campaigns that I’m sure you’re all sick of, and between us we came up with the idea of a range of oesophagus products from around the world.
So I’m not just here on holiday- I’m also sourcing good local organic oesophagus produce from independent farmers and tasting local dishes to see if I think any of them would be suitable for the UK market.
Well, I hit the jackpot last week. We went to a little family run Portuguese restaurant in the old town and tried their seafood and oesophagus stew. It’s slow cooked with tomatoes, potatoes, local vegetables and herbs, and the oesophagus just melts in your mouth. I’m thinking it will be perfect in our “anorexia” range of low-cal healthy products, which we are marketing alongside our “fast food” menu, which includes deep fried oesophagus from Scotland and oesophagus and pineapple Hawaiian pizza.
Our “deluxe” range includes the traditional English dish, similar to pigs in blankets- oesophagus in sarcophagus-grilled oesophagus wrapped in rashers of streaky bacon.
Oh boy, all this talk of yummy food has worked up an appetite. I’m off down to that little family run place for a large portion of oesophagus and seafood stew.
“Bom appetit” as they say in Portugal!