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Originally posted by Willo
I appreciate the suggestion but I simply cannot abide lamb.Red wine from my cellar sounds a splendid idea. ! Edited by Willo (11 Apr 2022 4.02pm) Buy her a bunch of half-dead flowers from the local petrol station as well and really give her something to worry about then.......
A stairway to Heaven and a Highway to Hell give some indication of expected traffic numbers |
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Sunday roasts belong to the time when everything was closed on Sunday (except the churches) all the family, and extended family or guests, all sat down at the table to eat at the same time. These days, with people off doing different things, children off to various sports events or clubs, it's less practical for many families. Shame, but life changes!
A stairway to Heaven and a Highway to Hell give some indication of expected traffic numbers |
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Originally posted by Pierre
Goose fat is much better than duck fat! When it comes to cooking roasties. Not for the goose or duck!
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I’m having a Monday roast I was too hungover for the Sunday
walking down the holmesdale road to see the palace aces! |
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Originally posted by becky
Buy her a bunch of half-dead flowers from the local petrol station as well and really give her something to worry about then....... To be truthful I have not purchased any flowers for the dear lady since she was recovering from a heart attack over 25 years ago.
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Yes, but not necessarily on a Sunday so I suppose it is a roast not a Sunday roast
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Once upon a time when I was a youngster, and we are talking about late 50s, and 1960s, if you stuck your head outside the door at anytime from 12 onwards on a Sunday, there would be the smell of roast meats and gravy wafting over the neighbourhood - particularly in the summer when peoples doors and windows would be open. These days it is more likely to be the smell of barbecue coals.
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As a kid mums budget was tight , we would have a starter of sliced suet pudding and gravy then the main dinner just to make the roast stretch between 6 , happy times , i still only go to the pub at 12 and leave at 2ish like i did with my dad , I do all the cooking and would have prepared and what im going to cook , and i have a hostess trolley so helps to keep all the food for the table hot
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Originally posted by Pete53
Once upon a time when I was a youngster, and we are talking about late 50s, and 1960s, if you stuck your head outside the door at anytime from 12 onwards on a Sunday, there would be the smell of roast meats and gravy wafting over the neighbourhood - particularly in the summer when peoples doors and windows would be open. These days it is more likely to be the smell of barbecue coals. . . . or Curry & fried onions
This operation, will make the 'Charge Of The Light Brigade' seem like a simple military exercise. |
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Originally posted by Pete53
Once upon a time when I was a youngster, and we are talking about late 50s, and 1960s, if you stuck your head outside the door at anytime from 12 onwards on a Sunday, there would be the smell of roast meats and gravy wafting over the neighbourhood - particularly in the summer when peoples doors and windows would be open. These days it is more likely to be the smell of barbecue coals. Many years ago I went to see our team play at Luton. Edited by Willo (14 Apr 2022 10.42am)
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I'm not a gambling man, but I wouldn't mind betting that there are one or two of us on here who won't be having a roast this coming Sunday!
Dad and I watched games standing on the muddy slope of the Holmesdale Road end. He cheered and I rattled. |
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Originally posted by Palace Old Geezer
I'm not a gambling man, but I wouldn't mind betting that there are one or two of us on here who won't be having a roast this coming Sunday! Fair point, unless there’s a Toby Carvery near wembley
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