Thanks For All The Eels

One useful thing about being a long-term blogger and user of social media is that there is a record of all the important life events. Like, just how long is it since we've had eels for dinner? Well, Bonnie was alive then and she's been gone for ages. How long?  June, 2013. More than five years now. But how long since she stole the eels? November, 2007. Nearly eleven years ago. That's the last time eels were served in this house. Until tonight.

Richard and I hatched the plot. Bert had been watching a show about Lough Neagh and remembered how much he loved eels. But where to get them? We live a short distance from the biggest freshwater lake in the British Isles and it's full of eels, a delicacy exported worldwide.  Who sells them? Back in the day this one and that one could get them for you, even further back in the day, my parents got them from Uncle Paddy who lived on the shores of Lough Neagh and fished eels and pollan for a living. Nowadays, as Richard found out, they're sold directly from the Lough Neagh Fisherman's Co-operative Society.

It was to be a surprise and surprised Bert was when Richard presented him with two packs of the finest Lough Neagh Eels. His squeals of delight could be heard in the village. He cooked them just like Matty did, coated in seasoned flour, slowly in a heavy bottomed frying pan for an hour and more. Delicious, served with RJ Kerr's finest and freshest soda bread,

As I said to Richard on Facebook,

....thanks for all the eels.

Did we sing The Eely Song?

Of course we did.

Blackberries, A Funeral And An Eely Song

After the blackberries were gathered I went to my cousin's house. He'd died in the early hours of the 26th September after a long illness, patiently and bravely borne. He had enjoyed the support of a very loving family and it seemed to me that he was happy during the last year and a bit of his time on this earth. He said as much too. His funeral was on Friday past and it was a big one for he was greatly loved.

It was at the funeral of another school friend about five years ago that my cousin addressed me as 'Nelly' in the graveyard. I was surprised. Somehow I'd thought that my neighbours and relations from way back when wouldn't know about the Garden. I should have had more wit. Anyway he said he enjoyed it and ever since then I'd always thought of him when I was putting together a new posting. This following post is an old one from around that time and, I think, the sort of post he liked reading.

I'll miss thinking of him when I come to Nelly's Garden although, not as much as he'll be missed by the family who adored him.

Eels! Eels! We Like Lots Of Eels!

FROM NOVEMBER 07, 2007

Yesterday evening while excavating the freezer I found a bag of frozen eels. Bert was ecstatic for he'd forgotten we still had them. He has only recently discovered the joy of eels and he cannot believe he lived until the ripe old age of 48 before tasting them. Those of you who know him personally will hardly be surprised he took to the Lough Neagh delicacy, as eels, like most of Bert's favourite foods, fall into the category known as 'close to minging'.

That's not to say I don't enjoy a bit of eel myself but in moderation only. I couldn't gorge myself on them nor eat them on consecutive days.

Bert fried a huge panful of them, ate two helpings and set aside a large portion for today's lunch. I merely nibbled on two small pieces.

When I returned from work this evening I asked him,

Did you have a nice day darling?

He answered,

No. I had a terrible day.

Why? What happened? 

Well you know the eels I was keeping for lunch? I refried them and they were just perfect. My mouth was watering for them. I was even singing an eely song while I was buttering my sodas and making my tea. 

The one that goes, 'Eels! Eels! we like lots of eels!' sung to the air of the Bavarian Drinking Song? 

Aye. That one. 

What happened? Did you burn them? 

Pearlie rang over wanting me for something.

Oh God! Were you over there for ages and burned your eels useless? 

No! They were out on the plate waiting to be eaten. 

Oh dear. Not...?

Yes! I came back over and there was the plate sitting where I'd left it. Not an eel in sight. The plate was spotless! 

Bonnie...? Aye! She's the only one big enough to have reached it. Not one solitary eel left....

Eels! Eels! We Like Lots Of Eels!

Yesterday evening while excavating the freezer I found a bag of frozen eels. Bert was ecstatic for he'd forgotten we still had them. He has only recently discovered the joy of eels and he cannot believe he lived until the ripe old age of 48 before tasting them. Those of you who know him personally will hardly be surprised he took to the Lough Neagh delicacy, as eels, like most of Bert's favourite foods, fall into the category known as 'close to minging'.

That's not to say I don't enjoy a bit of eel myself but in moderation only. I couldn't gorge myself on them nor eat them on consecutive days.

Bert fried a huge panful of them, ate two helpings and set aside a large portion for today's lunch. I merely nibbled on two small pieces.

When I returned from work this evening I asked him,

Did you have a nice day darling?

He answered,

No. I had a terrible day.

Why? What happened?

Well you know the eels I was keeping for lunch? I refried them and they were just perfect. My mouth was watering for them. I was even singing an eely song while I was buttering my sodas and making my tea.

The one that goes, 'Eels! Eels! we like lots of eels!' sung to the air of the Bavarian Drinking Song?

Aye. That one.

What happened? Did you burn them?

Pearlie rang over wanting me for something.

Oh God! Were you over there for ages and burned your eels useless?

No! They were out on the plate waiting to be eaten.

Oh dear. Not...?

Yes! I came back over and there was the plate sitting where I'd left it. Not an eel in sight. The plate was spotless!

Bonnie...? Aye! She's the only one big enough to have reached it. Not one solitary eel left....