Like a big healthy
Shit what is that?
Is that food?
Looks more like a
Shit it's gooey in the middle.
The deep fried Mars bar is apparently an iconic Edinburgh dish. The Fringe Festival is also iconically Edinburgh.
In Edinburgh we ate a deep fried Mars bar. Alex bought it and I took the challange of eating it. Of finishing it. Of putting as much of it into my body as possible. I ate it all. I ate every bit of that disgusting exuse for a dessert.
I even enjoyed most of it.
Then ten minutes later I wanted to puke. I felt sick. Not because it was as disgusting as I was saying it was, but there was just so much of it in my stomach. There was so much. My stomach was crying and my taste buds could only register thick chocolate-caramel. It was all consuming and it was gross and I still ate it. It was an experience. So was the Fringe festival.
Heated at such a high temperature, everything formed one mass. I couldn't tell the taste apart anymore. Until you find one sweet lump of nougat, a diamond in the rough.
The crusty deep fried batter was just a thin case holding it all together. Pierce it and out would flow the melted belly.
Leaving a mess, clinging to the plate, my teeth, my tounge.
I felt overwhelmed by all the sensations of the thick gooey mess that I was absorbing. Eating.
I was overcome. I'm not sure what I had expected but I'm not sure if my expectations were met. I felt sick and left only with a chocolate stained plate. I wasn't sure quite why this was the 'thing' to eat.
But in the end I was satisfied in a way, because I had tasted something extraordinary. Something unique. And in the deep fried steaming, shit like mass was a collection of delicious parts. The caramel, the chocolate, nougat. And the sickness in my stomach was maybe just a symptom of eating too much before, for feeling sorry for myself, that I had a cold.
I wouldn't say I wouldn't eat it again but I would be hesitant to cook one myself.
And after that I saw a show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
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Notes From Far Away
One holiday. Two artists. Three theatre festivals. Eight cities. Provocations. Reflections. Journeys. Art.