Blog Every Day in May, EAT IN


How to Survive Humans and Earth came about as a means to mental and physical survival and well-being. Nothing helps with survival and de-cluttering of the mind than hearty nosh that makes your socks fly off.

SO - get y’chops round this.

Step 1: De-stress that job out of your hair and chop like a muttha-fukka

The over-achiever of the Brassica family

The over-achiever of the Brassica family

Step 2: Give those bingo wings a run for their money

In a bowel – 1 cup of flower, 1 cup of water (or less depending on consistency), ½ tsp salt, 1 tsp garlic granules, 1tsp smoked paprika, 1 tsp of chilli powder, good dose of freshly ground black pepper


Bingo-wing delight

Bingo-wing delight

Step 3: Dump the brassica flowers of gloopy delight onto either an oiled baking tray or parchment lined tray

Messy heaven

Messy heaven

Step 4: Bang in the oven at 220c for approx 30 mins or until they look brown/charred or crispy

Crisp-tastic healthy-kick

Crisp-tastic healthy-kick

Step 5: Serve with sharp tasting soy sauce or spicy tomato sauce and DEVOUR!!!!!

Lip-smacking sexy veg

Lip-smacking sexy veg


Narcissists VS Feminists: The war on the #nomakeupselfie

Cancer is not a gender specific disease, we know this, and yet women have jumped on the no make-up selfie bandwagon by the bus load to unite ‘some’ of the sisterhood to take off their makeup, take a selfie, donate money to charity, do a good deed, take themselves a little less seriously and put themselves out there. What the hell is the problem?

Has it or has it not raised millions of pounds in a matter of days and sparked debate and widespread articles in The Independent, the Guardian, The Telegraph, BBC News and beyond? Has it not also now sparked the Cock On a Sock campaign with hopefully equal success?

I’ll be the first to put my hand up and say that despite having a big circle of fabulous girl friends, I’m most often found scratching my head to figure out not just myself, but most women I encounter (calm down boys). However, somewhere along the way the clouds parted and revealed the shockingly resilient sisterhood. Now, I have always been the one shouting from the rooftops that marriage symbolises nothing to me and hell will have frozen over the day I give up my surname (says she, engaged). Where am I going with this you ask… Well…

Yes damn it, I consider myself a modern feminist (or at least that’s what the growing concensus is), whatever that means, and I’ll be damned if I’ll be judged by a bit of female solidarity about a genderless issue. I’ve read article after tweet after status after comment from women at large that seem to want medals because they never ever wear make-up, while suggesting us imposter women who do wear makeup daily are somehow masking our vanity with narcissistic philanthropy.

This cancer awareness campaign did what it said on the tin. It communicated awareness despite suggestions that membership to the sisterhood for all female selfie participants has now expired, presumably along with our self-worth, self-respect, street cred and intelligence? A common opinion among the polarised high-horsed critic it would seem. That said, I’m not intentionally fighting fire with fire here, but I’m struggling to find a problem with the social good this untraceable campaign has achieved. And if you bring my intelligence or vanity in to this s$&t-stirring argument once more, so help me.

A selfie gesture won’t cure cancer, nor does it communicate the how-to of copping a feel of one’s balls or boobs, or tell us of the 200+ cancers in existence. Tell me something new for goodness sake, and end the belligerent assault on social media and women at large. If I’m not mistaken, it was never a cancer type specific campaign. If you asked men to moon the web and give £3 for testicular or prostate cancer, or just cancer in general, I’m pretty damn sure that thousands would, and are now starting to do. You may as well ask what red noses or comedy has to do with aids or people in need!

This campaign is highlighting far more than cancer awareness, it’s highlighting humanity in all its pejorative and pigeonhole glory, and the opinion-led backlash does far more damage than a harmless community led selfie ever could. It feeds the monster of intellectual hierarchy and gives the Katie Hopkins of this world a loaded and poisonous soapbox to shout from.

The media backlash (predominantly female led) suggests that the #nomakeupselfie explosion is damaging to women’s mental health, self-confidence, and is not courageous or brave. Give us some bloody credit! There’s no denying that the campaign could do with a little refining and direction, but would it have been as successful? Has it or has it not been a staggering success all flaws included? How is it that we have come to a point where we critisise successful communications campaigns for the greater good along with ourselves?

Ask me to take a picture of my bare arse and I’ll show you a brave woman, but bravery is not to be measured in comparison to life threatening illnesses. This selfie campaign doesn’t seem to have been born out of narcissitic bravery. It’s just a brilliantly effective social campaign that found flight and is harnessing the power of social media for the greater good. I hope to see far more bold and creative social campaigns from now on. So let people get on with their balls, boobs and selfie posts. All cancer research will benefit. That much I’m certain of.

Share your bare mugs and jugs near and far and donate the £3 to your local or national cancer charity or hospice, or text BEAT to 70099 to donate £3 to Cancer Research UK.

by Sam Jordan






If like me you spent the week before last cocooned in a hedonistic musical bubble at Glastonbury, you might have spent LAST week as one of the following:

a) Tucked up on a couch in your sweats watching movies, re-bonding with your pissed off abandoned cats, and enjoying that extra day you booked off work to ‘regroup’.


b) Tucked up somewhere else in your sweats or whatever doesn’t smell of wee, reading Glasto reviews, catching up on celebrities at Glasto pics or  reading the Q Glastonbury Review cover to cover while asking yourself why the hell you can’t recall it all, or what ever happens on a bloody Thursday?


c) Still unpacking your rucksack, sniffing for that absent clean smell, while putting on your fourth load of washing and pulling dried mud and wax from absolutely everything you own (curse you beautiful candle flares).


d) You might be working… Sorry. Book an extra day off next year yeah?

Whichever one you were, I’ll bet you’ve spent it reliving the hell out of your week and refreshing your Facebook news feed every 5 minutes to see which one of your Facebook posse/newly added Glasto friends have uploaded another suntanned snap of your burnt happy little drunk faces in a nod to how bloody fantastic the week was!!

Let me confirm for you in case you missed the biggest digital music extravaganza the BBC has ever seen that it was indeed a SPECTACULAR week both in music, frolics, and foooooood!  Sadly I couldn’t get to all corners of the festival, but with the food part always at the top of my list I give you my top 5 veggie grub vendors at this years Glastonbury Festival. Caution: Some names escape me.

1. Hidden away in the Green Futures area  near the Low Impact Building was an almost secret and nameless (because I can’t remember) little gem serving the only food that is grown directly on site at Glastonbury. For a steal of £5 we were able to grab a (real) plate of  delectable Moroccan tagine served with a vegan ‘slaw’ and orange & shoot salad. INCREDIBLE!!!! For afters, we simply continued eating their open fire pakoras until we burst!


Open FIre Pakoras

Open Fire Pakoras

2. Fat Belly’s Puppet Café: Hands down the most scrumptious peanut and potato curry I have ever tasted. It was SO good that they could not keep that stuff in the pot!! But when people are willing to wait up to 30 minutes for a helping you know that shit is gooood!!! Amazingly run, amazing options for  carnivores, vegetarians and vegans galore.

Worth it's weight in fat bellies!

Worth it’s weight in fat bellies!

3. Dirty Burger Bar: Nestled between Glade Pizza (who severely disappointed!!!! I mean, who doesn’t give you a pizza WITHOUT cheese because its too difficult???) and Arcadia, was the delectable Dirty Burger Bar. Run by a big catering company (but you’d never tell) I can’t speak for the venison burgers or any other meat they were offering, but they slapped together the most lip smacking veggie burger I’ve probably ever had. An explosion of spices, lentils and goodness knows what else, mixed with top notch big ass buns and crunchy lip smacking pickles had us shouting and secretly returning in the wee hours for more! I checked in with some sausage lovers and they assured me that the meat was also damn tasty! Again, credits to the staff of this place. A tightly but fun run ship!

Dirty Burger Bar

4. (I want to say) Munch Falafels: However, it is possible that it’s not called this at all. Whoops. Festival cider at your service. Either way, located between a sea of chippies, crap burgers, noodle and curry vans is the best damn falafel wrap your pie hole has ever tasted. I had serious qualms about the prices at £6.50 a wrap, but I practically went to another realm through the eating process. Probably because by day 3 I was in serious need of Popeye spinach! The freshest  and crunchiest ingredients The Other Stage has ever seen.

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5. Badger Action Café: Stop The Cull Campaign Heroes (Veggies Catering Campaign) at this friendly and informative café and campaign space also happen to serve a damn tasty vegan burger that will have you chowing down AY. SAP and ordering a vegan brownie for desert. Great cause, great people, great vegan grub!!!


That’s all for now folks. Of course there were tons more food options but these were some of the best!

Toodle Pip!!




New Potato Season:
In my grandmother’s house the humble golden little new spud was a welcome guest in her kitchen. These little guys most likely came from a local farmer or from the boot of a road side food seller. They were lovingly adored from the minute you set eyes on them, to the second a steaming, salted, peppered, and buttered morsel hit your lips. Your eyes would close, your mouth would become some sort of man-made wind funnel to adjust to the temperature, and a smile would stretch across your face as you Mmm’d your way towards another bite. This, was ‘new potato season’, and this is my first one of the year.

HOT POTATO! Photo by Sam Jordan ©2013

Photo by Sam Jordan ©2013