Tripe.

[nijinsky's fetlocks]

You can get lobster for a fiver on Bury fish market

You can get crabs for a fiver on Bury New Road.

 

[scotty123]

They still sell it at Todmorden Market and there is always a few hardy pensioners hanging around the stall.

On a side note, when my grandad used to have a few pints of mild he would get all dewy eyed about some lass who he knobbed back in the 40s. She used to work in a Tripe Shop in Bradford and would bring him lots of the stuff when they met up.
As he got drunker he would get a bit nasty, jab an accusing finger in my Nans face and say "You've never brought me any fucking tripe!".

Fuckin hell if my Grandad would have done that to my Gran she would have leathered him, she might have been small and a bit bandy but she was as hard as nails, 8 kids and 40 odd years as head barmaid at the old Woolpack on Bolton Rd in Salford made her that way ....she ate a lot of offal as well

 

[gordondaviesmoustache]

They still sell it at Todmorden Market and there is always a few hardy pensioners hanging around the stall.

On a side note, when my grandad used to have a few pints of mild he would get all dewy eyed about some lass who he knobbed back in the 40s. She used to work in a Tripe Shop in Bradford and would bring him lots of the stuff when they met up.
As he got drunker he would get a bit nasty, jab an accusing finger in my Nans face and say "You've never brought me any fucking tripe!".

Fuckin hell if my Grandad would have done that to my Gran she would have leathered him, she might have been small and a bit bandy but she was as hard as nails, 8 kids and 40 odd years as head barmaid at the old Woolpack on Bolton Rd in Salford made her that way ....she ate a lot of offal as well

I used to know the owner of that place pretty well. Pete was his name. Rough boozer that, mate.

 

[Bill]

When I was 18, I spent a few months working in a restaurant in the Alps. The "speciality" of the chef was Tripe. Every Tuesday it was on the menu as a special so we all had to eat what was left on a Wednesday as our evening meal. Never liked it, but ate it every week as it was that or starve.

Mind you, on a Thursday, the special was "Tête de Veau" (Veal's head) so we ate that every Friday. I'm really not sure which was worse...

Why starve? Couldnt you have bought your own food?

this.

 

[scotty123]

They still sell it at Todmorden Market and there is always a few hardy pensioners hanging around the stall.

On a side note, when my grandad used to have a few pints of mild he would get all dewy eyed about some lass who he knobbed back in the 40s. She used to work in a Tripe Shop in Bradford and would bring him lots of the stuff when they met up.
As he got drunker he would get a bit nasty, jab an accusing finger in my Nans face and say "You've never brought me any fucking tripe!".

Fuckin hell if my Grandad would have done that to my Gran she would have leathered him, she might have been small and a bit bandy but she was as hard as nails, 8 kids and 40 odd years as head barmaid at the old Woolpack on Bolton Rd in Salford made her that way ....she ate a lot of offal as well

I used to know the owner of that place pretty well. Pete was his name. Rough boozer that, mate.

There was 2 Woolpacks, the old one and the new, the old one was a massive mock Tudor type black and white pub right on the junction of where Bolton Rd and Eccles New or Old Rd(i cant remember which i get them mixed up) divided, it had a huge horse trough outside and us urchins used to sit in it in summer, knocked down late 60s as it had bomb damage from the war as the Germans were after the anti aircraft guns on Dorney hills near it.
They then built the new one but nearer Salford precinct, Gran worked in there for a while but said it was never the same, the old one was full of character and characters, many a gobby Yank serviceman had their heads filled in there 1941 to 45 by the gun crews from Dorney Hills, different age, different breed of tough people, they had to be

 

[johnny on the spot]

Enjoying this thread, some good nostalgia trip(e)s.

My dad cooked me and my brother tripe back when we lived in Stalybridge. Our kid (aged about four) heaved and said 'Dad I hate this fish'.

He's nearly thirty now and has never eaten fish since.

 

[waterloo blue]

I can see all you younger cellarites gagging at the thought of "tripe" what you have to remember is that when we grew up in the 50s and 60s there was no "fast food joints'' except your local chippy and they often had ques a mile long outside at tea time and you also took your own plates and bowls for the servers to put your tea on... weird i know unimaginable today.
Here is a list of a working class Salford standard diet that i grew up within them times.
Tripe, cowheels, pigs trotters, pig or sheeps heads boiled and the meat scraped off, sweetbreads (sheeps bollocks) kindney and liver boiled in a hessian bag then served with mash and the boiled juices, peas pudding, cheese and bacon dip, Scotts or Quaker oats smothered in black syrup or golden syrup.
Sundays was treat day, bacon and egg in the morning, then the Sunday roast but the cheapest meat Mum could buy and always served at 2pm then at 6 it was sandwiches withthe cheapest potted spread she could buy followed by tinned fruit and horrible condensed milk, the roast leftovers were eaten by dad fried in a pan when he came home from the pub at 10pm.
Were you at my nans on Eccles New Road,you've just recited the tea menu.
My uncle was a copper at the docks and we got all sorts from him,fruit like mangos and the like.
He used to drink in the Waverley and our family owned an offy a few doors away and people came in and filled jugs of ale from the hand pumps,seems like a lifetime ago.

 

[johnny on the spot]

My grandma grew up in Gorton and her mum used to bring home live crabs (the seafood kind).

My grandma and aunt would get them out and race them down the hall before gleefully chucking the poor fuckers into a boiling pan for tea.

My father in law grew up in Cumbria and his favourite story is of the girl on the neighbouring farm who had a three legged lamb for a pet. She tied ribbons in its wool, nursed it in the house and loved it to bits. Then market day came and her dad sold it for slaughter with the rest. His reasoning? Well, it had three tasty legs on it instead of four.

 

[BoyBlue_1985]

My Dad likes tripe. Doesnt have it anymore mainly as its in Manchester and we are not
THANK FUCKING GOD

I would rather die of starvation than eat that shit

 

[topcat12]

When I was 18, I spent a few months working in a restaurant in the Alps. The "speciality" of the chef was Tripe. Every Tuesday it was on the menu as a special so we all had to eat what was left on a Wednesday as our evening meal. Never liked it, but ate it every week as it was that or starve.

Mind you, on a Thursday, the special was "Tête de Veau" (Veal's head) so we ate that every Friday. I'm really not sure which was worse...

Why starve? Couldnt you have bought your own food?

this.

Because we ate all together at 18:00 after a couple of hours work and before the evening service started...not really possible to just pop out and buy something!