Before humans evolved, the earth was mostly covered in vegetation
Plant life had reached a plateau of evolution so plants started to investigate ways to farm other lifeforms
Plants got together and brainstormed ideas for evolving further
They elected leaders and formed a system of governance
Plant evolutionary committees developed plans and made recommendations
The elected plant president reviewed the plans and made policy decisions
The first step was for plants to provide targeted food and shelter to insects that helped pollinate and disperse seeds to generate more prolific plant life
So plants started to farm insects for their own benefit
Later they reached another evolutionary plateau which needed a massive jump to make plants grow faster and more widespread
The plant president recognized the potential for farming humans
He saw their capabilities to cultivate the land and create more space for planting
He oversaw the research and development of new plants suitable for human consumption
Plants then provided nutritious food for humans to help their brains develop further
The plant president knew that humans need to work and to play
So he implemented policies that would create plant species for human recreational drugs
Hops were developed so that humans could make beer and get drunk
Cannabis plants provided drugs for humans to get high
Despite being drunk and high for most of their waking moments, humans learned to mechanize and industrialize the growing of plants
Plants noticed that humans liked to play sports, especially on grass
Plants also acquired a love of spectating these sports so they developed special grasses
Plants now have the best views at Wimbledon, at every golf Masters and all soccer stadiums
Sport thrives because of perfect playing surfaces and plants get to see it all for free
Human populations grew but they became vulnerable to sickness and diseases
Pandemics wiped out huge sections of human population
One day the chief scientific plant asked to see the plant president
He urged the president to undertake research to improve the health of their farmed humans
Plants were specifically developed to provide medicine for humans
Human health improved and they were able to grow vast quantities of plants all over the planet
Plants allow their farmed humans to live for around 70 years or so
Expired humans are either buried to create plant compost or burned to make plant fertilizer
Plants allowed humans to falsely claim they had invented agriculture to farm plants
Humans like to feel that they are in control of their own destiny, even if its not true
Plants recognize that at some point, the earth will no longer be able to sustain human life
This might be through human induced climate change and global warming
Or it could be from a natural disaster like a huge meteor strike
It may even be through the human stupidity of mutual destruction in a global nuclear war
In every case, plants will survive all such disasters
Their human farming experiment will one day come to an end
Plants will regroup and find some other species to farm
So next time you look at a field in the countryside
Don’t be fooled into thinking that humans are farming that field
My earliest culinary memories are of mashed potatoes, a true comfort food in my childhood years. Served with fried sausages and affectionately known as bangers and mash, I recall heaping the potatoes into the middle of the plate and pushing each sausage into the pile so they stuck out in all directions.
I would then make a hollow in the middle to form a gravy lake. The objective was to eat everything from the outside inwards and see how long you could go before the gravy lake dam walls burst. English mashed potatoes are firm, fluffy and buttery, made with a splash of milk.
French mashed potatoes are known as Pomme Puree, I was never a big fan of their creamy and very runny consistency. It could be classified as a posh froggy soup.
American mashed potatoes are not as mushy as the French version but still way too creamy and not firm enough for my taste.
While growing up in England, I never came across the term french fries, we called them chips and the best ones came from our local fish and chip shop or “chippy”. For just a few pennies you could buy a portion of chips wrapped in newspaper, it was the staple diet in every working class region and the thick cut chips were served with salt and vinegar. When taken home, I would butter white bread and make a chip sandwich, the famous “chip butty”. The heat from the chips would melt the butter and today I still yearn for that buttery/bread/potato combination taste.
Moule frites is a popular French meal, although its more of a Belgian dish. It consists of steamed mussels served with very thinly cut french fries with mayonnaise on the side. I never really liked those slimmed down fries but it was fun to wash them down with a strong Belgian beer or two.
I first tasted American fries at a Disneyland McDonalds and for me they were way to skinny, almost like matchsticks. I remember asking for vinegar and being totally gobsmacked to discover they don’t offer it with their fries which often come over salted. No self respecting English chippy would dare cut their chips that thin or have the audacity to deny customers the pleasure of having them soaked in vinegar.
The king of all potato dishes for me is the mighty roast potato or “roastie” which we would have with our family meal on a Sunday accompanied by roast beef, lamb or chicken. As a child I remember seeing the beef dripping being melted in preparation for the roasties. I love the crispy outside and soft steamy interior of an English roastie, they taste sublime when dipped in gravy.
I always save one roastie to be consumed as the last bite of my home cooked roast dinner. Sadly I have never tasted a perfect roastie outside of England and it’s the first thing I request when going back there to visit my sister Kath. She makes them just like my mother used to, I have never quite managed to replicate that taste. I suspect the recipe is a closely guarded family secret that is only passed down to daughters. My tombstone will read “He travelled the world eating potatoes but always went back to England for his roasties”.
Cheeky Monkey Poetry 