[OT] Yowlet with Vegemite

"Howard Berkowitz" wrote in message
...
In article , "Yowie"
wrote:

"Kreisleriana" wrote in message
...
On Wed, 19 Jan 2005 10:51:02 -0500, "Irulan"
yodeled:

LOL! He sure looks like he's enjoying it! What does iti taste like?
Jazz's mama


Toxic waste with salt.

LOL!

If you have never tasted marmite or promite its hard to describe. Its
sorta
like bonox, but thicker, if that helps (probably doesn't).

It doesn't help that I keep reading that as "Botox", the brand name for
the injectable form of Type A botulinus toxin, the most poisonous
substance known!


The best way I can describe it to someone who has never tried anything
like
it is to get powdered beef boullion or stock, and add just enough water
to
make a thick paste. The taste, while not the same, will be similar in
nature
to vegemite, ie very salty and umami tasting (umami is the 5th taste
after
salty, sweet, sour and bitter. It detects protein - beef jerky and
strong
cheese also have a strong umami taste)

I suspect that it's somewhat similar to the meat extracts and yeast
extract pastes we use in microbiology -- a very stiff paste, which would
be the next step after the most concentrated essence in French cooking
-- glace de viande. The latter will coat a spoon when dipped in it,
where the former has to be scooped out with some effort -- and is AWFUL
to weigh out.

It is indeed a yeast extract paste. And yes, its like tar.



Vegemite goes really well with cheese and we Aussies use it to add some
"zing" to things like meatloaf and rissoles. As I said before, its not
really suited to American style white bread. If you don't like things
like
vintage cheese, strong salamis and beef jerky, don't bother. But if you
do,
I'd reccomend you toast some sour dough bread, give it a genourous
amount
of
butter, and then put on the least possible amount of vegemite you are
physically able to do, just enough to add a hint of colour to the bread.
Eat
with other savoury (high umami) things. If you like the taste, slowly
increase the amount of vegemite until you get to the right level.

Mixing it with the butter or margarine on a cold slice of bread or toast
is
also quite traditonal, as is putting a layer of vegemite on before
making
cheese-on-toast

Where does the beer become involved? There must be beer -- isn't that
the national soup of Australia? :-)

Vegemite *is* beer! Just super concentrated sediments made from the spent
yeast (and other beer sediments)

Yowie

"Karen" wrote in message
...

"Sherry " wrote in message
...
He's not just cute, he's adorable, just like his momma and daddy.

Pam S.

He looks like them both to me. I used to think he was a perfect
mini-Joel.
He is so precious. I have grandchild fever now.

Sherry

Yeah, but I can sure see Yowie now. Especially around the eyes.

The Yowlet has my mouth and eyes. He will probably have my hair colour and
wavy-ness. The rest seems to be 100% Joel, it smost noticable with his hands
and feet - they are exactly like Joel's and exactly like Joel's mother's
hands and feet too..

Yowie

On Fri, 21 Jan 2005 09:28:15 +1100, "Yowie"
yodeled:

Where does the beer become involved? There must be beer -- isn't that
the national soup of Australia? :-)

Vegemite *is* beer! Just super concentrated sediments made from the spent
yeast (and other beer sediments)

Yowie

Aussie live on products of fermentation. Accounts for their bubbly
nature.




Theresa
Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh
My Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com

In article ,
wrote:

On Fri, 21 Jan 2005 09:28:15 +1100, "Yowie"
yodeled:

Where does the beer become involved? There must be beer -- isn't that
the national soup of Australia? :-)

Vegemite *is* beer! Just super concentrated sediments made from the spent
yeast (and other beer sediments)

Yowie

Aussie live on products of fermentation. Accounts for their bubbly
nature.


This is remarkably insightful. It certainly would describe the means of
locomotion of a kangaroo.

On Thu, 20 Jan 2005 20:00:12 -0500, Howard Berkowitz
yodeled:

In article ,
wrote:

On Fri, 21 Jan 2005 09:28:15 +1100, "Yowie"
yodeled:

Where does the beer become involved? There must be beer -- isn't that
the national soup of Australia? :-)

Vegemite *is* beer! Just super concentrated sediments made from the spent
yeast (and other beer sediments)

Yowie

Aussie live on products of fermentation. Accounts for their bubbly
nature.


This is remarkably insightful. It certainly would describe the means of
locomotion of a kangaroo.

Far Side cartoon: Mob of kangaroos in full flight-- annoyed roo looks
at goofy faced one, and scolds: "Just jump, you fool! You don't have
to say 'Boing Boing Boing'"


Theresa
Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh
My Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com

In article ,
wrote:

On Thu, 20 Jan 2005 20:00:12 -0500, Howard Berkowitz
yodeled:

In article ,
wrote:

On Fri, 21 Jan 2005 09:28:15 +1100, "Yowie"
yodeled:

Where does the beer become involved? There must be beer -- isn't
that
the national soup of Australia? :-)

Vegemite *is* beer! Just super concentrated sediments made from the
spent
yeast (and other beer sediments)

Yowie

Aussie live on products of fermentation. Accounts for their bubbly
nature.


This is remarkably insightful. It certainly would describe the means of
locomotion of a kangaroo.

Far Side cartoon: Mob of kangaroos in full flight-- annoyed roo looks
at goofy faced one, and scolds: "Just jump, you fool! You don't have
to say 'Boing Boing Boing'"


There is a legendary story from the military aircraft simulation area,
which several people in the industry claim is true. When Australia
first got a flight simulator for armed helicopters, they decided to
change some known pilot behavior: shooting at kangaroos.

The contractor was told, on short notice, to put kangaroos into the
simulation. Without thinking it through, they grabbed some programs
that produced visuals of (human) infantry, and changed the images to
those of kangaroos. ...ahem...that's ALL they changed.

So, when they tried the next versions, the pilot spotted the kangaroos,
and indeed swung in their direction and fired a cannon burst, which
missed. The software simulating the former infantry, now kangaroos,
went into its logic on dealing with attack helicopters.

Several kangaroos reached into their pouches (or something), and
shoulder Stinger antiaircraft missiles, volleying guided missiles back
at the helicopters. The pilot, screaming as the simulation got rather
realistics, yelled "INCOMING" and took violent evasive action. Depending
on the version of the story, he either crashed the helicopter or just
managed to escape.

In either version, he was found sitting in his seat, mumbling "attack
kangaroos. Attack kangaroos."

The Defence Ministry left it in, because they actually DID want to
condition the pilots not to shoot at kangaroos.

In article , "Yowie"
wrote:


http://au.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/yow...nm=97a6.jpg&.s
rc=ph

or

http://tinyurl.com/6mbwz

Yowie


He's a real cutie, but the look of the vegimite kind of queased me out. I have
a new great nephew btw.
Suz
Macmoosette
=^..^= =^..^= =^..^= =^..^= =^..^= =^..^=

"People that hate cats will come back as mice in their next life."
--Faith Resnick



|\__/|
(=':'=)
(")_(")

Howard Berkowitz wrote:


In either version, he was found sitting in his seat, mumbling "attack
kangaroos. Attack kangaroos."

The Defence Ministry left it in, because they actually DID want to
condition the pilots not to shoot at kangaroos.

Oh Gawd, Howard, that is just too funny. I'm printing it off for da
family and to add to the funny pages we save up for his military oncologist.

Pam S.

SUQKRT wrote:

He's a real cutie, but the look of the vegimite kind of queased me out. I have
a new great nephew btw.
Suz



You're right, the Yowlet, otherwise known as Cary, is totally adorable.
A great nephew? Why didn't you say so before? Are you as modest as
another very proud great aunt that lurks in here and posts upon
occasion? ;-)

Pam S. proud of her honorary grandchild.

"Tanada" wrote in message
ink.net...
Howard Berkowitz wrote:


In either version, he was found sitting in his seat, mumbling "attack
kangaroos. Attack kangaroos."

The Defence Ministry left it in, because they actually DID want to
condition the pilots not to shoot at kangaroos.

Oh Gawd, Howard, that is just too funny. I'm printing it off for da
family and to add to the funny pages we save up for his military
oncologist.

Those dang Kangaroos!

Did I ever tell the story of when I was attacked by kangaroos?

My father is a keen bushwalker. Very keen. Mad perhaps.

My family and I know darn well never to accompany him on his bushwalks,
otherwise known lovingly as "death marches" because thats what they end up
being for those of us who don't own the legs of a 6'8" person (yes, my Dad
is actually that tall) and isn't as fit as a mallee bull. By the time you
think it would be nice to have a little break, have a snack and a drink, and
perhaps replace the missing skin thats peeled off your feet, my father has
only just started to warm up and there's at least another 4 hours of
tramping though untracked-scrub (because my Dad suffers from "Geographic
mis-alignment" otherwise known as having a total and complete lack of
direction and therefore becoming hoplessly lost on many occasions).

But every so often the Madness would hit and one of us would think it might
be A Nice Thing To Do to go for a walk with dear old Dad.

It was one of those occasions.

Mum had packed me with 6 sandwiches. Not half sandwiches. 6 full sandwishes,
or 12 slices of bread. She did this as a kindness, as she knew I'd need
*alot* of energy that day.

So off Dad and I trot, Dad in his slow and easy 6'8" lope, and me, not being
quite so old as I am now, running after him because I only had the stride of
a child.

Eventually, thank God, we stop. Dad needs a tree to go behind. I fall to the
ground, exhausted. My insanity was quickly corrected, and I realised that I
was in for a whole day of physical torture. I reckon army sargeants putting
recruits through Basic Training have got nothing on my Dad - but then again,
he *was* an Air Force sargeant. Explains alot really. I had come to my
senses and with the quick thoughts of the desperate, reached into my
backpack for one of those many sandwiches I now knew I would need throughout
the rest of the death march. This wasn't actually a "break" merely a potty
stop, and I didn't have much time.

From the perimeter of the clearing, they appeared.

Grey shadows at first, but they got bolder as they got nearer, obviously
being lured by the smell of my lunch

A mob of eastern Grey kangaroos.

And they were Hungry

Dad had dissappeared for the time being, having had to find a suitable Tree
to do things that Dads do that Daughters don't need to know about.

I was all alone.

Now as a kid, you think that wild animals are pretty neat. And the mob of
'roos were pretty neat. For a while, at least. The didn't hop at me, but
rather crawled in their strange tail - and legs - tail and legs sort of
crawl that only young babies can imitate.

I was delighted. Skippy was coming to say hello. I was thinking perhaps I'd
like to scratch them behind hte ears and maybe one could tuck me into her
pouch and then I'd finallybe able to keep up the pace with Dad.

And then they got closer, and they were no longer the size of Skippy, they
were not wallabies (Skippy is actually a wallaby, not a roo) and they
started standing up.

Eastern Grey roos are not the biggest in Australia, that honour goes to the
Red Kangaroo, and the adult males can stand at over 7 foot. But Eastern
Greys are no midgets either, and most of them were taller than me.

With childlike innocence, I thought it would be cute to feed one my
sandwich. I stood up. The mob stopped. I reached out my arm and waved the
remains of my first honey sandwich at the leader.

Much to my amusement, the leader of the mob, a male that was taller than I,
took the sandwich and politely nibbled on it in curiousity. He was pleased
with the taste, and gobbled the rest down greedily.

Another kangaroo hopped up to sample these heady delights

I put my hand into my backpack to get the next sandwich out. I was still
quite comfortable feeding the second and third 'roo my lunch.

And then the mob closed in on me.

And they all wanted this new yummy food called "honey sandwich"

And they were going to *get* said "honey sandwich".

They had seen the source of these delicacies and they all wanted a taste.

Now.

I was being held hostage by a mob of kangaroos and the price was as many
honey sandwiches as dear old Mum had packed.

At least 20 roos jostled and shoved to get to my backpack, which I had
wisely abandoned seconds before. They tore it apart, spilling my water and
devouring anything remotely edible (and probably a few inedioble things -
'roos aren't known for their intellectual capacities).

But once the exotic delicacies that are "honey sandwiches" had run out, they
looked at me menacingly. Perhaps they also had a taste for young human
flesh.

But hten I could hear Dad tromping back from wherever he had been, and they
lazily bounced back to their Kangaroo Mafia hideout.

"Wow!," he said, "Did you catch that mob of 'roos? Amazing how fearless they
are 'round humans. You'd think they'd know better"

The torrent of tears told Dad that I had indeed seen them although my woeful
tale about my lunch being stolen wasn't entirely believed until he spotted
the remains of hapless backpack.

Still, I do have to thank that mob of roos for one thing. Whilst they scared
the absolute bajeebers out of me, no doubt scarring me for life (I am no
longer a fan of 'Skippy' for a start), they also did me one heck of a
favour. Without lunch, we had to turn back. And the mob of roos that nearly
ate me also saved me from another 20km of "bush bashing" with Dad.

Dunno whether I should be grateful, or just very very scared.

Yowie