Traditionally, isn’t beer described as ungulate urine?
Mountain Dew isn’t beer.
Just follow the time-tested advice for cooking kidneys: “Boil the piss out of 'em.”
Pretzels work great too, there is a kind I like with honey mustard flavoring that is great on breaded pork chops.
Also Funyns.
It does follow the same naming conventions as “Rocky Mountain oysters”.
Plus he tells us 180c or gas mark 4… definitely not a U.S. recipe, we’re luddites who use a temperature scale based on the freezing point of a solution of water and salt.
Growing up on a farm, I always thought kidneys had that ammonia smell/flavor. It wasn’t until I had steak and kidney pie prepared well that I realized that kidneys are seriously delicious.
350 Fahrenheit.
And be sure to use a very scratched up nonstick pan. The flavor just isn’t right otherwise. The secret is in the little flakes of Teflon.
Could be tasty. All sorts of things go into tasty dishes that you wouldn’t eat on their own. Beer, for example, tastes like rancid piss, but it’s essential for good chili.
If your rancid piss tastes like good beer, can I borrow a kidney from you? Or failing that, if you wake up in a bath-tub full of ice, it wasn’t me. Honest.
Irn Bru…?! Didn’t think Niggle and his chums acknowledged the existence of anywhere further north than Reading. It’s all furrin once ya get past Watford.
I’d say you were confusing UKIP with the EDL or Britain First, but they wouldn’t know where Scotland, or more specifically Glasgow, was either!
Lemon is better with chicken, orange with duck.
And I wouldn’t use pop, neither. Northern I may be, Luddite I ain’t.
To the writer of the headline I can only say… grow up already.
Breaded chicken, with a sweet sauce. That is all.
I know, but I couldn’t think of any British fizzy pop other than Irn-bru or Tizer.
Tango might produce something approaching edible though.
Duck à l’Tango
You shouldn’t criticize the headline before you too have tried congealed deer pee.
I am WAY more interested in Reindeer pee…
No need to congeal it. Have an amanita-sicle. (Eat the yellow snow, that’s where the reindeer go.)