I was watching a Kiwi cooking programme on TV. Annabelle Langbein (I love her), and have affectionately deemed her “Mrs Bella Long-Bean”.
She was making something with “iggs”. I love the Kiwis !!! I really have never met a Kiwi I didn’t like – and I adore their “iccent”. Yes, dead patronising I know, but it breaks me up. She kept on saying the word “iggs” until I was in stitches.
On returning to Oz from the UK, there are a lot of culture shocks – a lot. I know this seems odd given the similarities in culture – it is so similar in so many ways, and then something hits you about the differences.
Some are obvious – let’s start with the most obvious difference between South West England and Sydney – it is (you know it) climate, especially levels of full-spectrum sunshine! Of course the flora and fauna as well – birds especially (we’ll get to them at a L8R date).
But there’s also things like the supermarkets and their contents – ispicially iggs !!
My local Waitrose in Devon, I’d have to rate as one of the best supermarkets ever. A wonderful experience of food shopping (well, as good as supermarket shopping gets anyway).
Compare that (I know this is a bit chalk and cheese, but it was my experience) to my local supermarket in Sydney, beginning with a C, ending with and oles, and now, sadly, so sadly associated with their ad campaign in which… gulp… so cringeworthy… Status Quo… Oh Please…, I can’t even say it… watch for yourself… “Down Down Prices are Down”… what is the world coming to !!?? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GdV4pr4frd4
Waitrose is quite beautiful (again that’s a relative observation pertaining to supermarkets) – ambient lighting, everything just so. It’s as if it’s all been arranged “just for moi?!” Everything is so particular and detailed. I felt as if every sprig of watercress was lovingly hand-plucked whilst giving thanks to the Universe, gently blown on by a budding virgin, carefully splashed with spring water, tentatively patted dry with linen tea towels hand-woven by blind French nuns, then placed like a newborn babe into it’s crystal clear little baggie.
In my Sydney supermarket, it feels more like the salad leaf harvest / packaging process went like this… lever the farken thing out of the hard dry ground mate – chuck it in the ute – hose it down with hard bore water – slap a bit of cling film (Glad Wrap) ‘round the bugger and she’ll be bloody right – there’s your farken lettuce – en-farken-joy !!!
In Waitrose there’s a small section of eggs (iggs). About a metre wide and just taller than me (5’4”… I AM !!!). Little boxes of muted pastel colours, the gentlest greens, the most benign of blues, the most beatific of buffs. All silently entreating you to… ‘Please buy these darling lovingly laid sweet little eggs (iggs), in pastel colours themselves. Or not. Whatever you like is OK with us. Sorry for asking. Hope I didn’t take up too much of your time.’ (Gosh, such English eggs (iggs)).
In my Sydney Supermarket there’s a FARKEN WALL OF EGGS (IGGS) – it’s 7 FOOT TALL AND 8 METRES LONG. You can get a box of 40 enormous eggs (iggs). I pity the chickens that laid these massive eggs (iggs); but perhaps not, ‘cos they’re bloody hard mate, and they plump out these ginormous eggs (iggs) as they walk along chomping on thumb-sized bits of grain – growling at any other chook that comes close.
“Call that a chicken?” This is a bloody chicken, mate! This chook’s got teeth !! (And that’s pretty rare.)
Is this a BIG COUNTRY / leedle country thing? I guess so. In Oz we like to supersize everything mate, and if you want little twee eggies (iggies) to have with your little thin soldies for your tiny, pale, emaciated, Pommie brekkie – well then, you’re a POOFTA mate. And that’s all.
Next week my lovelies, do mess de city ?
Thanks to Dreamstime.com for the pastel IGGS !!!