Boiled Onions

Alright, Grass Snake Man!

I love an onion, me. White, red, spring, salad – every meal I make starts with them. Though out of all of the preparation methods, boiled is the least palatable to me. Fried, pickled, roasted – all golden. Boiled? Not so. Seems like you’re just washing the onion goodness away. Unless the water is shallow and heavily reduced.

Oookaay, sorry about that. Let’s move on. The Weekenders was the Vic and Bob sitcom that never was. Part of Channel 4’s pilot series Bunch of Five, it remains a bizarre one off. Apparently they liked the show and were ready to commission an entire series, on the proviso that they did another series of Big Night Out. The pair refused and nicked off to the BBC.

As much as I loved the show (genuinely, I think about it in some capacity most days), I almost dread to think of six episodes of it. It’s really unnerving at some points. Almost Kubrick levels of unease. Phil Oakey wearing leather chaps. The old couple staring unflinchingly at Electric Russell for ages. The Geordie aliens. Napalm Death are almost a comfort in amongst the rest of it.

Anyway, the pair rock up to The Glove Hotel (actually The Pack Horse in Bolton) after a long day of meat festivalling and an old bloke shouts ‘boiled onions!’ outside it at least twice. This design is almost like a peculiar artisan jam label thing you would encounter if you had a meal there. You know the type of hotels that do their own stuff and try and make it a thing? That.

Something like that.