Of Bilko & Beansprouts

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In the absence of any real cogent thoughts about, well, just about anything today - which I still firmly believe to be a Saturday, despite all evidence to the contrary: a condition not ameliorated by the fact that Tesco had yesterday's "i" stacked up where today's should have been. Of course, muggins here without his glasses on took it as read that it was the current issue and duly paid for it. So, a bit of a cognitive dissonance sort of day, then.

Having cooked stir-fry this evening, I was mulling over two things: the fact that I couldn't get a bag of bean-sprouts for the wok-fest and the origin of my absolute love for the damn' things: the most unpromising-looking foodstuff one can imagine at face value. But I do love the crunchy little buggers, even if they do look like alien parasitic worms. Thinking aloud as to where I discovered them, I remembered: Wing Fat Chinese takeaway, on the Dudley Road in Winson Green - the very place I grew up.

As I remember it - and that's a challenge, given the era - I started eating Chinese takeaway at that very establishment: initially chicken, pineapple & boiled rice - a safe bet for a young western boy in those days, when even pizza was seriously exotic. But as time wore on, I explored more of the menu and discovered bean-sprouts. I imagine that the four or five pints consumed previously in the pub might have allayed my misgivings about the 'worms' - but hey-ho - it worked and I was hooked for life. At that time in the seventies, it was pub, Chinese takeaway and re-runs of Bilko on the box: magic...

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