[Varley]

Never try that fare in England. Until I tried that produced by a Hibernian lady (with trepidation) I could only shudder at the memory of so called Irish Stew that was the school food of the devil that followed me from kindergarten through to going to sea. It was not only the low point of food in three different establishments but a low point in life

A grey supporting discharge around a deadly reef of sheep gristle, potato and something greenish with the ability to survey its victims with eyes conjured by Macbeth's hell broth chefs from pearl barley. Unless lucky enough to get a later ladleful, a vile scum that would have defied Alfa Laval had it been put to the centrifuge, cloaked much of the surface without improving the appearance one jot.

Even now said lady omits the pearl barley when I am lucky enough to be offered the (almost) real thing.