Friday, 7 September 2007

Gourmet Flour Round-Up

The latest craze that’s hardening the cocks of top chefs everywhere is gourmet flour. While it’s possible to make decent cakes and pastries using bog-standard supermarket self-raising or all-purpose, no self-respecting Michelin-starred cook would be seen dead with a bag of Hovis on their shelf. The Imaginary Review decided to give you the dilly-o on the newest bags of overpriced cookery powder.

Bratislavan Dilmouse Flour is available at the Shitfor Deli in Highgate. The Bratislavan dilmouse is a small shrew-like creature that secretes a fine powdery substance after coitus. This powder, believed to have magical properties, is gathered by children and added to flour and sold to idiots in overpriced shops. The flour, priced at £23.99 per cubit, has a slight tangy quality, like a collection of lemon rinds swimming for freedom in a castle moat made of Fanta. There’s an almost pungent aftertaste with inklings of peat, almond nuttiness and despair.

The Sennopod Bakery in Greater Mavisham has obtained a crate of Tinkerbell Plumrose Flour. Made in 1932 by the Microsoft Corporation (before they turned their attention to computers and evil), the antique flour has traces of black forest ham in the nose, with a swilling of aromatic rosemary on the tongue. When added to pastry, this flour makes sweet pies savoury, but not vice-versa. £210 per furlong.

Steven Denman’s Topical Yeast has nanobot-sized time capsules added to it. While not affecting the taste in any way, eating anything containing this yeast has the effect of causing feelings of nostalgia when it is pooed out. Two and ha’penny a bag, from Waitrose.

Fresh from South America, Columbian Sniffing Flour is available from a man who hangs around the end of my street. Adding this flour (in small quantities, mind!) to any food creates feelings of intense confidence and swirly glee. Thirty quid a bag.

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