Ex_Matelot
Midshipman
" THE ADMIRALS CURRY "
Brian Hill.
Autumm 1962 and HMS Belfast was to leave the Far East Station for the last time,she was to be relieved by a young sister HMS Tiger.
Belfast was underÂgoing a major refit alongside in Singapore dockyard. Shipboard routine,being severely disrupted,struggled to retain some air of normality.
Amidst this tumoil FO2 Far East.Rear Admiral J (Black Jack) Frewen decided to invite himself on board for an informal visit and lunch.The Flag Lt let it be known that the Admiral loved a curry. The ship braced itself for the visit, knowing full well the formidable reputation of Black Jack;a man not known for his warmth,or suffering fools,of any calibre.
Chief P.O.(Cook) was therefore instructed to pull out all the stops to produce a "Piece de Resistance". The day dawned and the Chief was in the galley at daybreak,marinating,infusing and blending exotic spices as he pursued the rituals of his art. At midday the Admiral was piped aboard and a message was relayed to the galley that lunch should be ready in 45 minutes,giving the Admiral time for a couple of pink gins.
The Chief chef put the finishing touches to his masterpiece.The pilar rice gleamed silken and fluffy encasing a rich pungent Mughloi Lamb Biryoni with cloves,cumin and corianda.all topped with orange saffron milk.
The Chief not normally an emotional man was visible proud of his creation.He was quite a large man,over large some would say,a testomony to a lifetime devoted to the culinary arts.He enjoyed his work and his stature lent him a natural air of authority .He moved with an aura of superiority, slightly attenuated by an all pervading musk of chip-fat and body odour.
Summoning his Petty Officer as a bodyguard.he took up the large oval salver and began his journey aft.Because of the disruption caused by the refit the whole midship area was blocked off. There was therefore no alternative that day but to ascend up to the gun deck and proceed aft in the open air. Ladders wre negotiated without difficulty and the party was half way aft when disaster stuck.
An errant sea-gull suffering from bowel incontinence strafed the party and with uncanny accuracy and dropped a large green mucilaginous deposit in the middle of the Admirals Curry.
The Chief froze,horror stricken and quite unable to comprehend the scale of the disaster .Speechless and catatonic he stood,surveying his creation,now ruined,his career and reputation finished
The Petty Officer however,displaying that resourcefulness and adaptability which has been the hallmark of the British Matelot since Nelson.whipped out his marlin spike and stirred it in.
"Come on" he growled,they'll never know. The Chief stirred himself with difficulty,and resumed his journey,a broken man. The curry was delivered to the Wardroom on time. They retreated quivering to the galley and waited. Two hours elapsed.the longest in the Chiefs career,
then two messages arrived at the galley.
"The Admiral is very grateful" "Compliments to all the galley staff"..
Ex_Matelot
Brian Hill.
Autumm 1962 and HMS Belfast was to leave the Far East Station for the last time,she was to be relieved by a young sister HMS Tiger.
Belfast was underÂgoing a major refit alongside in Singapore dockyard. Shipboard routine,being severely disrupted,struggled to retain some air of normality.
Amidst this tumoil FO2 Far East.Rear Admiral J (Black Jack) Frewen decided to invite himself on board for an informal visit and lunch.The Flag Lt let it be known that the Admiral loved a curry. The ship braced itself for the visit, knowing full well the formidable reputation of Black Jack;a man not known for his warmth,or suffering fools,of any calibre.
Chief P.O.(Cook) was therefore instructed to pull out all the stops to produce a "Piece de Resistance". The day dawned and the Chief was in the galley at daybreak,marinating,infusing and blending exotic spices as he pursued the rituals of his art. At midday the Admiral was piped aboard and a message was relayed to the galley that lunch should be ready in 45 minutes,giving the Admiral time for a couple of pink gins.
The Chief chef put the finishing touches to his masterpiece.The pilar rice gleamed silken and fluffy encasing a rich pungent Mughloi Lamb Biryoni with cloves,cumin and corianda.all topped with orange saffron milk.
The Chief not normally an emotional man was visible proud of his creation.He was quite a large man,over large some would say,a testomony to a lifetime devoted to the culinary arts.He enjoyed his work and his stature lent him a natural air of authority .He moved with an aura of superiority, slightly attenuated by an all pervading musk of chip-fat and body odour.
Summoning his Petty Officer as a bodyguard.he took up the large oval salver and began his journey aft.Because of the disruption caused by the refit the whole midship area was blocked off. There was therefore no alternative that day but to ascend up to the gun deck and proceed aft in the open air. Ladders wre negotiated without difficulty and the party was half way aft when disaster stuck.
An errant sea-gull suffering from bowel incontinence strafed the party and with uncanny accuracy and dropped a large green mucilaginous deposit in the middle of the Admirals Curry.
The Chief froze,horror stricken and quite unable to comprehend the scale of the disaster .Speechless and catatonic he stood,surveying his creation,now ruined,his career and reputation finished
The Petty Officer however,displaying that resourcefulness and adaptability which has been the hallmark of the British Matelot since Nelson.whipped out his marlin spike and stirred it in.
"Come on" he growled,they'll never know. The Chief stirred himself with difficulty,and resumed his journey,a broken man. The curry was delivered to the Wardroom on time. They retreated quivering to the galley and waited. Two hours elapsed.the longest in the Chiefs career,
then two messages arrived at the galley.
"The Admiral is very grateful" "Compliments to all the galley staff"..
Ex_Matelot
