tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91299695390621331012024-03-06T09:08:16.186+00:00Caff TeaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594517875411598567noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-21343519183103735812013-01-01T17:44:00.001+00:002013-01-01T17:44:32.921+00:00Alone, on my own, without company<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAPKMBGSx_c83KMAkQpcx6_9W9TtA9vK44pnxRHjqbt4gzt6yW483YHMz8Y1OXD2pgdAuRUlm0k8B08wMV9DU__m_qDp9hEO4i1uJl-49okqdC4k0WB5Q_85JAo_ZQBxKRy7AZHiGM4jR/s1600/1357061684593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAPKMBGSx_c83KMAkQpcx6_9W9TtA9vK44pnxRHjqbt4gzt6yW483YHMz8Y1OXD2pgdAuRUlm0k8B08wMV9DU__m_qDp9hEO4i1uJl-49okqdC4k0WB5Q_85JAo_ZQBxKRy7AZHiGM4jR/s320/1357061684593.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'Droid Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.983333587646484px;">Yes, this is definitely happening. Night in with The Killing, Johnnie Walker (yes, the cheap stuff - couldn't find Makers Mark on short notice) and making risotto later. Gonna miss this time off work. It's been exquisite and all too brief.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594517875411598567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-53426727607220287652013-01-01T13:02:00.000+00:002013-01-01T13:02:35.145+00:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy New Year.<br />
<br />
We stayed up as late as we could (1am) and then flopped out on the new mattress. Firm and unforgiving, my taste to a T.<br />
<br />
Pan-fried up the remains of NYE dinner: some mash, boiled veg and the remaining eggs (3 whites, one yolk) then covered in Tabasco. I bet Avery Island is a sad, desolate place that smells like mace and vinegar.<br />
<br />
Sunny today.<br />
<br />
Getting rid of old furniture is proving difficult.<br />
First driving lesson this Saturday.<br />
I should cancel our TV service.<br />
Found an old story (thanks Kevin) with breadcrumbs back to this blog, et voila.<br />
Stylophone for Xmas. Chunky jumper, banana box and thermal underwear. All worn at once.<br />
This house is full of electrical devices that speak to the Internet.<br />
There is a picture on the wall that refuses to stay straight.<br />
Lemons in the fridge never go bad.<br />
Coffee stays warm in the Cuisinart carafe long enough for me to remember I made coffee.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594517875411598567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-16093669163130023642010-10-19T14:38:00.003+00:002010-10-19T14:44:25.472+00:00A fantastic title. Full of wit, charm.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAo5KC-OizyML9T4-uswmC3cZrfXrgnGwa5TdNKK-SQfNpBs0GfNtuf347pVsdgwnutSALq-b-tTI3GyKFB5rJNXfs0othoxjQo60nRYvSlCpOPNb9z9NrU0Hkik5EKNVFftERiYrTJY/s1600/rsmith.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 169px; height: 177px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAo5KC-OizyML9T4-uswmC3cZrfXrgnGwa5TdNKK-SQfNpBs0GfNtuf347pVsdgwnutSALq-b-tTI3GyKFB5rJNXfs0othoxjQo60nRYvSlCpOPNb9z9NrU0Hkik5EKNVFftERiYrTJY/s400/rsmith.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529766787512480754" /></a><br />Hooray for food! Hooray for eating!<div><br /></div><div>As you can see this is a test post. I'm testing something out on another blog I have (this time on Wordpress) so I'm testing the RSS feed. But it's nice to be posting on this blog again. In fact, I thought I'd forgotten the password. I haven't.</div><div><br /></div><div>The caff on Hanbury Street which originally inspired me to start this blog has been shut for about a year now. There was little word of warning. A half-attempted petition to the landlord from some regulars, pleading with the landlord to renew the lease. But even the nice ladies behind the counter discouraged us from signing it. "It's too late." How sad. The price of tea is now £1 higher everywhere in Spitalfields. There's even one of those Kiwi coffee outfiits charging £3 for a mocha. You should see the size of it!</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh well, the time, it moves on. Right, that's should be about all I need to say for my test. Good to see you again, Mr Blogspot. I'm moving house soon and looking for a new job, so you're still pretty far down on the list of priorities (at least I'm honest). See you around.</div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-82019534566942042392008-12-24T11:04:00.001+00:002008-12-24T11:04:41.410+00:00Cafe Open<a href="http://media.shozu.com/cache/portal/media/580a5d4/16777229"><img src="http://media.shozu.com/cache/portal/media/580a5d4/16777229_blog" /></a><br/>Christmas Eve<br />London E8<p align="right" ><a href="http://www.shozu.com/portal/?utm_source=upload&utm_medium=graphic&utm_campaign=upload_graphic/" target="_blank" ><img src="http://www.shozu.com/resources/messages/logo_blog.gif" alt="Posted by ShoZu" border="0" /></a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-80421249530431691842008-12-23T23:48:00.001+00:002008-12-23T23:48:29.555+00:00It's Christmas!<a href="http://media.shozu.com/cache/portal/media/580a5d4/16777227"><img src="http://media.shozu.com/cache/portal/media/580a5d4/16777227_blog" /></a><br/><p align="right" ><a href="http://www.shozu.com/portal/?utm_source=upload&utm_medium=graphic&utm_campaign=upload_graphic/" target="_blank" ><img src="http://www.shozu.com/resources/messages/logo_blog.gif" alt="Posted by ShoZu" border="0" /></a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-63498281870543646392008-12-08T11:15:00.003+00:002008-12-08T11:30:30.973+00:00New Poem - Gloom Cupboard 70Lovely Richard at Gloom Cupboard [who I'm sure is lovely for more reasons other than the inclusion of my poem] has posted his last issue of 2008, Gloom Cupboard 70. There are some fine bits of work by Malerie Yolen-Cohen, Stanley H. Barkan, Enaam Alnaggar, the poet Spiel, Willie Smith, Dan Mootz, Dr. Ehud Sela, Maris Hurt and Steve Meador.<br /><br />I would appreciate you checking out and supporting <a href="http://www.gloomcupboard.com">Gloom Cupboard</a>.<br /><br />In other news, I've been working a lot and cooking a bit more successfully in recent weeks. Pictures and thoughts to follow. I especially plan on force-feeding this blog over the Christmas holidays. Fois Blog!<br /><em></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-72153246199071680422008-11-12T13:32:00.004+00:002008-11-12T13:49:24.850+00:00Fifty PoundsSo we're budgeting now. Our combined weekly household/food spend is set at £50. We write down everything we purchase, how much it cost and who bought it. I'm amazed at how much money just <span style="font-style: italic;">flies</span> out of my hand.<br /><br />We're 3 days into it. Too early to tell. It's still the Blinking Mario period. But £50 is a lot of money. That's £200 on food. Surely that's easy to follow. No? We are budgeting 'cause Steve's retiring at the end of the year. Going part time and collecting his pension. Time to prioritize. I pop into Tesco for fresh chives and two pints of milk then magically appear clutching two bags of shopping, some coins and a receipt shoved in my mouth. I don't know. I'm an impulsive asshole.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-51701696733097474352008-09-29T08:00:00.003+00:002008-09-29T08:09:50.699+00:00SmartsA double-edged obit for David Foster Wallace is in this month's <a href="http://www.prospect-magazine.co.uk/article_details.php?id=10365">PROSPECT</a>.<br /><br />Back in Texas, I often wondered if people in Europe felt left out that not all our movies got European releases. Since being here I understand why most aren't given a go. A few every year make a stab at the teenage market, but they couldn't be more American; excercises in adolescent silliness.<br /><br /> A most interesting point about the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">insular</span> and self-serving American psyche has never been put into words better:<br /><br /><blockquote>They waste time on America's debased, overwhelming, industrial pop culture. They attack it with an energy appropriate to attacking fascism, or communism, or death. But that culture (bad television, movies, ads, pop songs) is a snivelling, ingratiating, billion-dollar cur. It has to be chosen to be consumed, so it flashes its tits, laughs at your jokes, replays your prejudices and smiles smiles smiles. It isn't worthy of satire, because it cannot use force to oppress. If it has an off-button, it is not oppression. Attacking it is unworthy, meaningless. It is like beating up prostitutes.</blockquote>This coming a month after Liz Forgan professed her hatred for Sarah Palin on Radio 4 citing, among other things, her "candy coated philistinism".Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-47881486488460812372008-09-19T09:51:00.003+00:002008-09-19T09:57:25.569+00:00Little 'Ole Me's Gettin Published, ProperSuper dear, Bill Shute who <span style="font-style: italic;">is </span><a href="http://kendrasteinereditions.wordpress.com/">Kendra Steiner Editions</a> is creating his first chapbook of unsolicited poems. His project <span style="font-style: italic;">Last Poems</span> invited submissions briefed "If you had 6 hours left to live, and you had one poem left in you, what would it be".<br /><br /><a href="http://kendrasteinereditions.wordpress.com/2008/09/18/kse-last-poems-chapbook-authors-selected/">Check out the winning authors here.</a><br /><br />I can only say I'm chuffed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-17620036705575475222008-07-30T16:03:00.009+00:002008-07-30T16:40:29.234+00:00I Still Use Real Butter<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KwRMADHta3lq8pnOXQwxIyCVQ26somCtpe21CvKrC7W8GO3IVg7mVtDLnaL4vXb2oQSqpvhsU1ZqAN5agUANcMYwEG8h2qAibKg25i-pVKez01W_aAMHTL1ju-nhS3VcUTjg1m8s4lI/s1600-h/Starting+Line.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KwRMADHta3lq8pnOXQwxIyCVQ26somCtpe21CvKrC7W8GO3IVg7mVtDLnaL4vXb2oQSqpvhsU1ZqAN5agUANcMYwEG8h2qAibKg25i-pVKez01W_aAMHTL1ju-nhS3VcUTjg1m8s4lI/s400/Starting+Line.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228841333140587058" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />What does this picture have to do with food?<br />A lot of things went into this body to get me to that starting line.<br />A lot of things stopped going into that body to get me to the starting line.<br /><br />The decision to begin running was interesting. It was Steve’s first visit to America, so I chose Texas as the first port of entry. We spent two weeks split between Houston and Austin [family in Houston, friends in Austin]. We ate 3 meals a day, drank beer from noon and drove in a civilian tank we Christened “The Orange Avenger”.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW4uwTLmt5vZUWjOTwwry-ogZHDirFvK4v1A9u-UqGxlnK4tGupDdDiiIdcFZCyADeUTTmEEXsBqsCnLqoEy4JO1nYZmRnVK55D9bI68SNRqAj2p_6gsP4WmKFAOqMe4DFW6rF31Ju5JA/s1600-h/avenger.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW4uwTLmt5vZUWjOTwwry-ogZHDirFvK4v1A9u-UqGxlnK4tGupDdDiiIdcFZCyADeUTTmEEXsBqsCnLqoEy4JO1nYZmRnVK55D9bI68SNRqAj2p_6gsP4WmKFAOqMe4DFW6rF31Ju5JA/s400/avenger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228845389546143250" border="0" /></a></div><br />Flicking through photos near the end of our trip, I noticed our skin getting darker, and our bellies getting larger. In a land without public houses or public transport, the social fabric is stitched with corn based foodstuffs and picante sauce. I met friends at restaurants and cafes and coffee shops and at houses where we ate or shared food or made snacks. Beer always. Clicking glasses filled my dreams. Always scoping the price of gasoline at filling stations and quickly popping in to check the price of a twelve pack of Shiner.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6I358xd7ckoGIIClT5MSzxzU6gGBJJ6f8N8-kb2rbrqSOY0g0HIb8uLfUDFC4gAtKsLk5v2Gud64rROchK6TvRuVrlWxIBMNOrluwYm2MYEM1HIedKzFpg5d8atuMMfJy4OZD4cZBC08/s1600-h/Meli+House.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6I358xd7ckoGIIClT5MSzxzU6gGBJJ6f8N8-kb2rbrqSOY0g0HIb8uLfUDFC4gAtKsLk5v2Gud64rROchK6TvRuVrlWxIBMNOrluwYm2MYEM1HIedKzFpg5d8atuMMfJy4OZD4cZBC08/s400/Meli+House.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228842593853956386" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />About a week in, Steve and I stayed behind at ours hostesses’ house as they readied for work. We slipped off to HEB and purchased a bulk package of spinach, $10 balsamic vinegar, some olive oil and cherry tomatoes. We retreated to the house and quietly devoured the leaves in silence like prisoners of war with a secret allotment.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDTN0oGafcJWWZSqG2x4f7CBSyIlSseVN9V6WSROwKEM-W2LefW9zm2xKeBuL5p9doLaXwAVoRD8uox1QmSRWMtg8A0ALzfoMV_WFFOL2d_3v7GmNOTIv1xBbJG1zyrnvV_w7HspSxx8/s1600-h/Picnic.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDTN0oGafcJWWZSqG2x4f7CBSyIlSseVN9V6WSROwKEM-W2LefW9zm2xKeBuL5p9doLaXwAVoRD8uox1QmSRWMtg8A0ALzfoMV_WFFOL2d_3v7GmNOTIv1xBbJG1zyrnvV_w7HspSxx8/s400/Picnic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228842392939817074" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />We were both clearly overdosing on carbohydrates. I purchased some New Balance running shoes at a sporting goods emporium near my parent’s house in north Houston a few days before our return flight. I can’t remember the exact thought, but I knew I would push myself out of bed on our return to England and go running.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZH3ZFqIPUtMEvAdTgUWCtFSP02LZqLKQTzwGPrPYmHF0HDbH9QNzA3xBCY9pNwWVhbry4zf93EKTBmdxwMK_xJRRWSBrtBrcdeYHzbda9VW1BGqvHadtSaPNySksd4pWv0hKMTQecIw4/s1600-h/Enchilada.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZH3ZFqIPUtMEvAdTgUWCtFSP02LZqLKQTzwGPrPYmHF0HDbH9QNzA3xBCY9pNwWVhbry4zf93EKTBmdxwMK_xJRRWSBrtBrcdeYHzbda9VW1BGqvHadtSaPNySksd4pWv0hKMTQecIw4/s400/Enchilada.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228846300418285522" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />It was difficult in the beginning, to say the least. I’ve lived in my neighbourhood for 2 years now, but until two months ago, I couldn’t tell you the names of the streets around me. It took me a month to discover a huge park 5 minutes jog away from me.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbGLYBor3_2QTYRIXSsAihvycXWSdf4I6JEkWrBlllxZg93Hp6-yObH3PlLwnpU2ogFYHx_3nK4yFV1E27VV1_vOCxK7eINGM1CAigVAp9wOB70itZGWtQjrfveziOgBfK6AN00zV2EA/s1600-h/park.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbGLYBor3_2QTYRIXSsAihvycXWSdf4I6JEkWrBlllxZg93Hp6-yObH3PlLwnpU2ogFYHx_3nK4yFV1E27VV1_vOCxK7eINGM1CAigVAp9wOB70itZGWtQjrfveziOgBfK6AN00zV2EA/s400/park.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228846036454949090" border="0" /></a></div><br />I started by walking down a side street, and then heading towards Leyton Orient Football Stadium, I knew the road swung around the bottom towards the 2012 Olympic site, and double-backed on its self. I would use this road route until further notice. It’s not exactly pretty, and I’ve come to learn I’d rather not run in front of too many pedestrians, especially in this part of town. They’re…mouthy.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLeO-j5RGvqOXRb4CRUVHELKeAqXb8ABx8rXGXB5Azxtashdx8tNnRkpA15PoPP7SJoPkbssHQpY4IYpm1fy8a_tkXjDuizDiEh5E5_U1aCCIXacjaQufPOsjyjCyh9etg0aaoKmVBb8/s1600-h/leyton.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLeO-j5RGvqOXRb4CRUVHELKeAqXb8ABx8rXGXB5Azxtashdx8tNnRkpA15PoPP7SJoPkbssHQpY4IYpm1fy8a_tkXjDuizDiEh5E5_U1aCCIXacjaQufPOsjyjCyh9etg0aaoKmVBb8/s400/leyton.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228845725584527730" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />At first I was running the long stretches of road on my route; roughly 200 metres at most, then semi-collapsing into a semi-swift walk completely out of breath. It’s no surprise [except to my parents, maybe…uhm, sorry] that I’d been a smoker for 7 years.<br /><br />Comparably, this is nothing. I know people who’ve been smoking for double my own life span, and again, comparably, they’re doing all right. And for all the debate surrounding smoker’s rights and “I can do whatever I want with my body” and half my friends being smokers themselves, I’d had enough. The past year I’d not been as committed to it as I had been before.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxp5q5kDIS0iEmyUp0aby_ZzMQaZKSNLzwe2AcsJ7Rdlz9ACPyoFwRgu5YUNolJrLcMjxlzQ8XU99EnAF1S5QX8anltPOGuhKrjhpbj3N5TtzeJewmd37kKNfKvBIZclHltl9WKr4TPo/s1600-h/Table+Top.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxp5q5kDIS0iEmyUp0aby_ZzMQaZKSNLzwe2AcsJ7Rdlz9ACPyoFwRgu5YUNolJrLcMjxlzQ8XU99EnAF1S5QX8anltPOGuhKrjhpbj3N5TtzeJewmd37kKNfKvBIZclHltl9WKr4TPo/s400/Table+Top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228846751727647362" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />The trouble with smoking is, you can’t do it by halves. [This is something I’m learning with alcohol as well. I’m sure that won’t be a popular message either] I’d been on roll-ups for years, but in general smoker speak, unless you’re on at least half-a-pack-a-day, I find the lungs keep thinking they’re going to win the battle.<br /><br />For a smoker, the lungs have to never get back up off the matt. If I’m constantly trying to clear my lungs out, that means I’m coughing all the time, and that means I’m actually getting ill more often than when I smoked a whole bunch more. The conventional head-in-the-sand wisdom of smokers being “Well, I’m creating an environment where no bugs can take hold.” And while this is probably bollocks, the truth is I never really got sick that often. But when I did get sick, I was out for the count. It was like getting Chicken Pox for the second time. It’s got to be that much stronger for it to come back.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9u9GUhEMNzHJyhuHULiJ51FI3Maf8G49YnwMpQTZDZEMREaSWhQTrkDhee2F5ii-WBhVXeJXY_XNyRl9GL_afVR8wl2w-lJBm9GHtjQmrMlOxLvqbZKMh6tJK1qMjFe8I9QPhT6gObE/s1600-h/Shiner.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9u9GUhEMNzHJyhuHULiJ51FI3Maf8G49YnwMpQTZDZEMREaSWhQTrkDhee2F5ii-WBhVXeJXY_XNyRl9GL_afVR8wl2w-lJBm9GHtjQmrMlOxLvqbZKMh6tJK1qMjFe8I9QPhT6gObE/s400/Shiner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228841785813532482" border="0" /></a></div><br />Anyway, I’d finally kicked the smoking out of my routine. It was easy in the end. I just made the decision. Nicotine replacements seemed silly and counterproductive. But running helped take away the “oh-I-could-have-just-one” moments when out with other friends who only have one when they’re drinking. [These people are lethal, bless their hearts]<br /><br />But I did find a running route which roughly equalled 3 miles, and when I finally ran around the whole way it was pretty special. And it was all about little goals and little pieces to this puzzle I’m trying to complete. And my eating habits have certainly changed. I’ve not shied away from carbohydrates, but now I’m actively seeking them out because I need the energy when I’m running. It’s similar [to a point] to when I was doing gardening work, and I would eat anything I could get my hands on because I required the caloric intake.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEBNqBXrdlwOQHOf2sgRAFnS4emNpH9DMtmE7zSgw2xFFwlUQs4hGqyCkJgXbjTIG_UJMj2hUU2r56JcRCo_a56fM1Ggqq-2jaHOMedHXvINXHfVopzF3Jx1O5HXRN4CsGATTvvM4lxQ/s1600-h/finish.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEBNqBXrdlwOQHOf2sgRAFnS4emNpH9DMtmE7zSgw2xFFwlUQs4hGqyCkJgXbjTIG_UJMj2hUU2r56JcRCo_a56fM1Ggqq-2jaHOMedHXvINXHfVopzF3Jx1O5HXRN4CsGATTvvM4lxQ/s400/finish.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228847518704352722" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />I’m learning all these new words like Tryptophan and Glucosamine and why they’re important and what foods they’re in. So I’m looking at food for both fuel and pleasure. But I’m after balance. I’m not trying to win races per se. I may not be smoking but I still use real butter.<br /><br />Here's to balance.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oJQwvRMXqRAn4JTDWaz2mqMldVNyHFPf3DM7idM5XeeZRbCGPhUWD1wAMu030Nb5Tsu-QnJ5SF6JmFg2rDd9xgTFInxDf3pcyN0d02JSD6jOCquIwCZs6acgV9pj4vEOVeZ_6vHWed4/s1600-h/Toasting+You.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oJQwvRMXqRAn4JTDWaz2mqMldVNyHFPf3DM7idM5XeeZRbCGPhUWD1wAMu030Nb5Tsu-QnJ5SF6JmFg2rDd9xgTFInxDf3pcyN0d02JSD6jOCquIwCZs6acgV9pj4vEOVeZ_6vHWed4/s400/Toasting+You.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228842744006294770" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-12051153344560953872008-01-05T13:46:00.000+00:002008-01-05T14:08:19.054+00:00Gin and Tonic, Splash of Angostura Bitters<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoU7lTy0r0bz_rvz6v2WWJe0JCdeGyzjNgv0IWi1m0n-k4Pr6ynVvTVS-bnz8gZe7EfwJwfbsEy_-UjrKfEmiZakru03zVgR0ImW5dHPSXWIQTMOfB_oWjfzMqiy-AfH0zXxaNrA3a_Bw/s1600-h/mfkfisher.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoU7lTy0r0bz_rvz6v2WWJe0JCdeGyzjNgv0IWi1m0n-k4Pr6ynVvTVS-bnz8gZe7EfwJwfbsEy_-UjrKfEmiZakru03zVgR0ImW5dHPSXWIQTMOfB_oWjfzMqiy-AfH0zXxaNrA3a_Bw/s400/mfkfisher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151988751883786114" border="0" /></a><br />Of the umpteen different books I’m reading at any given time [books I’ve abandoned midway up to three years ago I still consider being read] is a collection of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._F._K._Fisher">M.F.K. Fisher</a>’s culinary tomes entitled <span style="font-style: italic;">The Art of Eating</span>.<br /><br />While I am unable to elucidate in the manor of a great and learned gastronome such as Mrs. Fisher, I giggle with delight when I read her. She is a recent discovery; a purchase from the lovely <a href="http://www.skylightbooks.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp">Skylight bookshop</a> in Los Feliz [Los Angeles]. As a side note, I applaud their commitment to the small press [their periodical/zine section was immense].<br /><br />Mrs. Fisher’s books [written in the 50’s] border on the whimsical, and her style loose and free. Anecdotes from friends, a wine reminding her of a bold combination of ingredients. casting her mind back through subjects Like the smoke from the after dinner cigarette, she wafts through memory and story tenderly and with great poise.<br /><br />But I digress. Herewith a quote within in a quote I found most modern. In the chapter “I Arise Resigned” from her book <span style="font-style: italic;">Serve it Forth</span>, we find her on the subject of the last drink. The first part is Mrs. Fisher, then she quotes from the French painter, literary critic and Gourmet Paul Reboux.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></blockquote><blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;"><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" ></span></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;"><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >“There is a recipe in one of Paul Reboux’s entertaining cookbooks which explains this custom of pre-lethal drinking not too inappropriately. He is discussing the preparation of a rabbit for execution.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >‘Many people,’ he says, ‘whose stomachs are more demanding than their hearts are tender, raise rabbit only to eat them.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >‘This is in itself an act of human energy which I would not know how to accomplish. Intimate family life with a rabbit, strengthened by our daily relations, would make me no more capable of devouring my little animal than I would be of eating one of my friends.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >‘However, if your sense of realism be strong enough, and if you want your rabbit to be even better than your neighbour’s, take care to nourish it---‘</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >“Monsieur Reboux tells with his own detached care the schedule for feeding: warm milk while the beastie is still nursing from its mother, tender lettuce and meadow salads as it grows older, a few succulent carrots and grains of corn. And herbs, of course, to perfume its flesh before it is cooked rather than after.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >“It will enjoy leek soup, he advises, and rich hot potato broth with bread. And even, on Sundays, a little bowl of <span style="font-style: italic;">café au lait</span>!</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >‘Finally, the day of the execution, give him a glass of good <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marc_%28wine%29"><span style="font-style: italic;">marc</span></a> to drink. Rum, although traditional for such occasions, will render him less careless of his fate. After this, you will without scruple be able to give to his little neck the final and decisive blow. Your rabbit will already be in such a state of anaesthesia that nothing can matter to him.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >‘Thus you are assured of having given him a beautiful life, and a beautiful death!’”</span></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-4076843383836049662007-12-28T19:05:00.001+00:002007-12-28T19:07:49.323+00:00For Melisa<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBsVu6yGNdJiwMpQxCI-RS_loYvI7DXFuksn5iXnJQwjxvw70GiWuL0sAW4m6smNf_OZFkG-UMhH1QIxLn0xAnrKCiEkr9Xi3dPucSsCDcEyXyp_5-TpcYvabRpGioMBTzJO69UbaiRc/s1600-h/coriander.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBsVu6yGNdJiwMpQxCI-RS_loYvI7DXFuksn5iXnJQwjxvw70GiWuL0sAW4m6smNf_OZFkG-UMhH1QIxLn0xAnrKCiEkr9Xi3dPucSsCDcEyXyp_5-TpcYvabRpGioMBTzJO69UbaiRc/s400/coriander.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149102082889308018" border="0" /></a>A few years ago, this plant was the subject of yet another British/American Moment of Extreme Embarrassment when I exclaimed loudly the little green leaf was called cilantro. Not, what did you say? Coriander? <br /><br />I know spend my time clearing cultural mind fields. Americans should know where not to step. I can be your guide. It’s called Coriander over here. Cilantro back home. That’s about as cartographic as I’m going to get. I never said I was a good guide. But now we know what its name, we can use it to save Fantasia! Oh Atreyu!<br /><br />[ten points for spotting the reference above]<br /><br />Of the thousand of uses for coriander, my most recent concoction is a simple salad to be eaten with humus. Yum!<br /><br />The Tool Kit:<br /><br />Handful of flat parsley leaves<br />Half the size handful of Coriander leaves<br />Juice of half a lemon<br />smidgen of Olive oil<br /><br />Roughly chop or tear the leaves into a nice pile and add the lemon juice. Sprinkle with a bit of olive oil and serve with crusty or flat bread and humus.<br /><br />This takes 2 minutes, and tends to be an “Oh sh*t” moment solution when you’ve had that extra drop of sherry before finishing off the dinner.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-64859131522633226782007-11-16T21:15:00.000+00:002007-11-16T21:31:20.341+00:00YUM = ???<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ILoDQuhwm52p03KsUV3rIWobxlJS6ItRIMIs8itdZBcHpuySoexW-alh3FUmupPidTy4nuHTqo-9Dby1ylVHrzAV20TwOelcGcGCTUsoSW9Qt8A1N9rXvZC1CVg58M5CIWuq5DUqF4I/s1600-h/RIZOTTO.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ILoDQuhwm52p03KsUV3rIWobxlJS6ItRIMIs8itdZBcHpuySoexW-alh3FUmupPidTy4nuHTqo-9Dby1ylVHrzAV20TwOelcGcGCTUsoSW9Qt8A1N9rXvZC1CVg58M5CIWuq5DUqF4I/s400/RIZOTTO.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133550273852961298" border="0" /></a>Risotto!! And it's yummy! <br /><br />I like wine. I like wine a whole lot. A way to ceremoniously offer some wine to the little liver god is to make risotto. Risotto is a good guest to have for dinner, as he only wants one glass of white wine. Cheap date, even cheaper dinner.<br /><br />Risotto takes about 30 minutes. I know some people can do it quicker, but this is how long it takes me. And this recipe is for 2. <br /><br />Best to start with some unsalted butter. You're wanting to slowly fry up some thinly chopped onions, and the unsalted butter means:<br /><br /><ol><li>You can raise it to a higher temp w/o burning</li><li>You have more control over the salt content, which will become important in a minute</li></ol><div style="text-align: left;">Once the onions are soft [5 min] add a coffee mug's worth of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arborio_rice">Risotto Rice.</a> [This rice tends to have a high starch content, hence the creamy texture at the end.] Stir all this together to coat the rice with butter [another 3 min]<br /><br />Okay, if you haven't popped the cork yet, now's the time. You want a glass of white wine in with the rice. You can pour it in slowly, or all at once. Whatever way you want to make the offering. Once this starts to cook and soak into the rice, you'll recognise that smell which gives Risotto it's distinct flavour.<br /><br />Alternate letting this simmer and stirring until it both evaporates and soaks into the rice. Then you'll want about 2 pints of chicken or vegetable stock. Here's where the salt bit comes in. Most stock has lots of sodium in it. Unless you've just boiled a chicken yourself, or even if you had, salt will be in there somewhere. So just watch out. You can always add more.<br /><br />This continues for another 20 minutes or so, until all the stock is gone. Then add whatever you want. Chopped tommies, peppers, broccoli, frozen veg, PEAS PEAS PEAS are a must. Little Parmesan to finish [again, salty!!] and season to taste.<br /><br />Good winter fair. Good hangover food. Good with a salad when you wanna stuff your face.<br /><br />Nice.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-67718592865503615132007-11-14T14:15:00.000+00:002007-11-14T14:55:16.422+00:00AN AMERICAN CLASSIC<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3aEUcsjl6GeRfJNT8CThgjhZIjLe7IceWKJrIppwAhtwT8YVkPdX8Wygzlz52T1eqQ-6oTLQ9VsEL7TcDtWvz3SK8aDvTq20JD00HjY45i12fwthJbiVnfug1Fi7GjZ3ijpHnFN1HklU/s1600-h/Root-Beer"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3aEUcsjl6GeRfJNT8CThgjhZIjLe7IceWKJrIppwAhtwT8YVkPdX8Wygzlz52T1eqQ-6oTLQ9VsEL7TcDtWvz3SK8aDvTq20JD00HjY45i12fwthJbiVnfug1Fi7GjZ3ijpHnFN1HklU/s400/Root-Beer" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132702009618085266" border="0" /></a>Root Beer, or Sasparilla to the rest of you, is an amazing substance. It kind of tastes like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Euthymol">EUTHYMOL</a>. But I wouldn't put Euthymol on my ice cream, which one <span style="font-style: italic;">can</span> do with Root Beer!<br /><br />I hear one can acquire A&W brand Root Beer from one of the China Town convenient stores in Soho for the normal price of a canned beverage. Other than this, I'm not sure where to get it. It seems a taste unfamiliar to the British tongue, and when offered in a way similar to Marmite pushers, can be met with considerable hostility.<br /><br />It is an old flavor. Spicy, but not reedy. There is a nasal component to the drink which perhaps only Americans can appreciate, being the nasal speakers that we are. The Root Beer Float is yet another step away from the European sensibility. It's an honest, messy and unrefined treat. It comes in a large glass mug. Root Beer poured from a fountain yields the best results; there being too many bubbles in the canned and bottled variety. A heaping spoonful of Vanilla ice cream is then lowered into the mug, bubbling and frothing up around the rim and overflowing the sticky contents onto the expecting napkins.<br /><br />The Root Beer Float is a quick pint on the way home. It's full of empty calories and requires a minimum 7-10 minutes of my time. I must stop and reflect. My busy day compartmentalized into little freezing bites and slurps. Towards the end, I can down the last bits of melted ice cream and foam in the same continuous movement I finish a Guinness. And with my cheeks full I pause, take in the room, place my glass down on the bar and stand. Bag in hand I walk out the door feeling neutral and smooth, like a hinge recently greased.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-26500930651084555332007-10-29T12:24:00.000+00:002007-10-29T12:31:02.262+00:00THE GREAT AMERICAN ESCAPADE BEGINSI'm in Chicago! For less than 24 hours! Then on to Houston. Land of rediculously fat people.<br /><br />I've woken up early and decided that, although I have yet to purchase a camera, I can still post stories about food! <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/offtopic/sns-ap-odd-burger-eating-championship,1,5244558.story">Here's one I read in the Chicago Tribune today.</a><br /><br />It's difficult for me to explain to a non-American audience the sobriety with which eating contests are referred to here. People routinely look past the symbolism of carelessly stuffing one's face with cheap, sponsored foodstuffs. It remains, it seems, ingrained in the American psyche that feats of physical ability, no matter how grotesque, will forever be enabled and applauded. Even if said physical feat impairs one's ability to compete in all other physical activity.<br /><span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-17143645103623320142007-07-14T11:11:00.000+00:002007-07-14T11:17:22.588+00:00Walnut Bread<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGAyD6oDJTrkS_YtXIDSUBUrWEcEQxBWzpsDPariyy12_VhBGywb8ceyAUmI4bOvvKbSDWp24_-v4bs6G64sMQNnCEHpoEQTQkejQyXBrbcbazu0HKQqrA1Rsg_eiTBxHSeIwy6SNicTs/s1600-h/Walnut+Bread+3+720.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGAyD6oDJTrkS_YtXIDSUBUrWEcEQxBWzpsDPariyy12_VhBGywb8ceyAUmI4bOvvKbSDWp24_-v4bs6G64sMQNnCEHpoEQTQkejQyXBrbcbazu0HKQqrA1Rsg_eiTBxHSeIwy6SNicTs/s400/Walnut+Bread+3+720.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087008962959334562" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Feeds: Small army<br />Prep Time: 20 – 30 minutes plus 2 – 3 hours rising time<br />Cook Time: 45 minutes<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Walnut Bread</span><br />15g fresh yeast; or<br />2 tsp dried yeast plus<br />1 tsp sugar; or 1 sachet<br />easy-blend dried yeast<br />500ml lukewarm water<br />1 Tbs honey<br />375g wholemeal flour<br />175g strong white flour<br />2 tsp salt<br />Butter for greasing<br />125g walnuts, chopped<br /><br />[glaze]<br />1 medium egg, beaten with ½ tsp salt<br /><br />1. Dissolve sugar and honey in the water [this feeds the yeast] and add yeast. Leave for 15 minutes to froth up. If using easy-blend yeast, add it straight to the flour.<br />2. Toss the flour and salt into a bowl, making a well in the centre for the yeasty water [or plain water if using the sachet].<br />3. Stir with a wooden spoon to form a dough. Try and keep the dough as moist as possible. I know it’s difficult, but resist temptation to add more flour.<br />4. Turn out onto a floured surface and knead for about 10 minutes. Flour your hands if need be. Work until smooth and stretchy.<br />5. Butter up a bowl, plop in the dough and cover with cling film. I then put mine under the radiator, but anywhere warm will do. Leave for 90 – 120 minutes.<br />6. You’ll have enough dough for two separate 18cm cake tins [but any baking dish about that size will do]. Give the dough a good punch to disperse the air inside and knead in the walnuts.<br />7. Divide the dough into your two buttered up tins or dishes and cover loosely with cling film. You are wanting it to almost double in size again, so put back under the radiator for about half an hour.<br />8. Preheat the oven to 220°C.<br />9. Slash the top of each loaf then brush on some glaze. This makes it all shiny.<br />10. Bake for a quarter of an hour, then drop the oven temperature to 190°C and bake for half an hour. Let it cool on a rack on the counter and the whole house will smell divine.<br /><br /><br />The loaf above was devoured by 2 people at work in as many hours. Lightly toasted with a bit of honey makes it taste like a cookie. The top will inevitably get slightly scorched, but if you’re like me you’ll steal all the walnuts off the top anyway.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-89835796316243349622007-07-14T10:58:00.000+00:002007-07-14T11:09:00.317+00:00Lemon Thyme Tuna<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMHD2Td7RS5rDcwnnQNMXyzGkyuCLlzA_LiZstq2tSlixMmFbsyJthVYmlpYR5bYxwiiYY73gWOYIMFJD0sn9zk9cUACyFu8LvR7Xo6s5zGfb3HsNvZqwaNT3zOA3XANbWpei2I2BcxA/s1600-h/Lemon+Thyme+Tuna+2+720x540.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMHD2Td7RS5rDcwnnQNMXyzGkyuCLlzA_LiZstq2tSlixMmFbsyJthVYmlpYR5bYxwiiYY73gWOYIMFJD0sn9zk9cUACyFu8LvR7Xo6s5zGfb3HsNvZqwaNT3zOA3XANbWpei2I2BcxA/s400/Lemon+Thyme+Tuna+2+720x540.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087007055993855122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Feeds: 4<br />Prep Time: 10 minutes<br />Cook Time: 30 minutes<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lemon Thyme Tuna<br /><br /></span>3 Tbs olive oil<br />1 garlic clove, chopped finely<br />4 fresh Tuna steaks<br />A few sprigs of Lemon Thyme<br />2 Tbs white wine vinegar<br />salt and pepper<br /><br />1. Heat the olive oil in a shallow pan<br />2. Add the chopped garlic and cook for a few minutes<br />3. Add the tuna and 2 tablespoons of water<br />4. Season with salt and pepper and add the lemon thyme sprigs.<br />5. Cover and cook over a very low heat for about 20 minutes.<br />6. Add the vinegar and cook until it evaporates – serve.<br /><br />You can try different types of vinegar [sherry, red wine, etc] depending on how punchy you like it. I used lemon thyme because I ran out of lemons [shock horror] and had just been herb shopping.<br /><br />You really need fresh tuna. Frozen and vacuum packed has too much water and has no taste. These were bought from Borough Market where I was properly fleeced. They tasted great but were terribly expensive. Don’t trust the freckled red head kid at the big fish stall at Borough. He has a tendency to “round up”.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-3355533628111233362007-06-02T15:39:00.000+00:002007-06-02T15:47:23.978+00:00Twice Baked Mash<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03qrQ5oFE-b5XZbhVKlnEirwsEon30ZdNKpf4iANuCtw-7dwG-yzbCMRqRXpFkD85coGRFIV-hPj4wfrTbyv-HtP6Y9D4HaAZY-o3eRcw9-YpQg1qiq6gUyhxGX9iWJI0IVH7OeJcHxY/s1600-h/Baked+Mash+720x540.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03qrQ5oFE-b5XZbhVKlnEirwsEon30ZdNKpf4iANuCtw-7dwG-yzbCMRqRXpFkD85coGRFIV-hPj4wfrTbyv-HtP6Y9D4HaAZY-o3eRcw9-YpQg1qiq6gUyhxGX9iWJI0IVH7OeJcHxY/s400/Baked+Mash+720x540.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071493292558288946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Feeds about 4, depending on what you have it with<br />Prep Time: 20 minutes<br />Cook Time: 15 minutes<br /><br />Twice Baked Mash<br />450g lightly mashed potatoes<br />4 Spring onions, shredded<br />50g strong Cheddar, grated finely<br />3 Tbs milk<br />25g butter<br />salt and black pepper<br />Grated nutmeg to taste<br />2 medium eggs<br /><br />1. Preheat the oven to 220°C and butter the Yorkie tin.<br />2. Mix the mash, spring onion and cheese in a bowl.<br />3. Warm the milk and butter with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Bring just below the boil, then beat milk into the mash. Now beat in the egg yolks.<br />4. Whisk egg whites until peaking. Add just enough to the mash to loosen up, then fold in as gently as possible.<br />5. Spoon the mash into the Yorkie tins and bake for 15 minutes until golden brown and well risen.<br /><br />You won’t want to pulverize the potatoes when mashing. These come out very light and fluffy because of the egg whites. You can also brown off some bacon and add to the mash, and finish with soured cream. If you don’t have a Yorkshire pudding tin, you can always use a muffin or bun tin.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-52814326775993952742007-05-13T22:52:00.000+00:002007-05-13T23:03:51.462+00:00LEFT OVER HASH<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOdiu-kxrFItVfO56xGAL_G_ISePJnWVdQU8yj2IR9TJgJhn-uxVQdp21cSBLYv6lqxUx5g7GBmSvpkkU8VweVYuIFK3Q0xOaxAvSqj1hCFpKpAsUTPYon4aE34RHarvHqe9R5SnhP7Y/s1600-h/Left+Over+Hash+3+720x540.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOdiu-kxrFItVfO56xGAL_G_ISePJnWVdQU8yj2IR9TJgJhn-uxVQdp21cSBLYv6lqxUx5g7GBmSvpkkU8VweVYuIFK3Q0xOaxAvSqj1hCFpKpAsUTPYon4aE34RHarvHqe9R5SnhP7Y/s400/Left+Over+Hash+3+720x540.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064183677371756066" border="0" /></a><br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/HP_Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Feeds: <span style="font-style: italic;">2</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Prep Time: <span style="font-style: italic;">5 minutes</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Cook Time: <span style="font-style: italic;">15 minutes</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><b>Left Over Hash</b></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">This is one in a long list of recipes for those who hate waste. Whether you can remember rationing or not, food waste is naughty. The UK is miles ahead of America on this front. The climate here means composting is ideal without trust funding pests, and having to shop more frequently [I can only carry so much back from Tesco] means using up everything is both economical and a time saver. I’m always on the lookout for more recipes like this. Migas is another one involving eggs…but here’s one that goes well <u>with</u> eggs…sausages…beans on toast…everything…</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">One of my most comforting things to eat is a stupidly large salad. Ingredients vary, but the mainstays are:</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Lettuce [Botavia, rocket, romaine…any firm[ish] leaf will do]</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Red onion</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Tinned tuna</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Tomatoes [sometimes]</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Olive oil and Balsamic vinegar [Sherry vinegar works nicely as well]</span></p> <p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.04cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"> <span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.04cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Basically I’ll sit in front of the TV with my salad and bottle of wine and just munch all night. Invariably, I won’t finish everything, and the dregs of the salad get put back in the fridge and look all soggy and wilted the next morning. These dregs make the basis for the Left Over Hash.</span></p><p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.04cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Dregs of salad, oil and vinegar included</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">2 Tbs olive oil for frying</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">3 x medium potatoes, peeled and grated</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Anything else that needs eating</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">1. Use a cheese grater to shred the potatoes. Do it on the biggest setting as the potatoes are raw and might be full of water.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">2. Add all your ingredients to the bowl with the salad dregs using common sense on how much of the liquid [oil and vinegar] to keep. You won’t be using a binding agent so too much liquid and it will be impossible to keep together in the pan.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">3. Heat the olive oil in a frying pan over a medium-high flame. Ball together some of the hash mix and brown each side. It will want to fall apart so be gentle with it.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">4. Cook for 15 minutes, alternating sides.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: auto;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: auto;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">This really is lovely. And every time you make it a different flavour pops out at you. I’ve used pine nuts, chorizo, mint leaves, shallots, garlic, salami, parma ham, falafal, humous, cabbage, bacon…anything you like really.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129969539062133101.post-16630979749392029502007-05-13T19:07:00.000+00:002007-05-13T19:20:09.404+00:00WHITE LOAF<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiZGALopPX_pOTG2-E65m8UuKG9hkm2-vLzqtGoK5TuS-SoT7cZ3hJfAkmAHC3ctan1BId2pZ2CntyUmVnrtX4FHBNRCOyc4Tf63V9DUC73dIotqO5LimZ1Nuc_0u6wrsEiNd9jYOWes/s1600-h/White+Loaf+1+720.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiZGALopPX_pOTG2-E65m8UuKG9hkm2-vLzqtGoK5TuS-SoT7cZ3hJfAkmAHC3ctan1BId2pZ2CntyUmVnrtX4FHBNRCOyc4Tf63V9DUC73dIotqO5LimZ1Nuc_0u6wrsEiNd9jYOWes/s400/White+Loaf+1+720.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064125188507119122" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Feeds: <span style="font-style: italic;">millions [w/ Jesus] or 4 without him</span></span> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Prep Time: <span style="font-style: italic;">25 minutes plus 2 – 4 hours rising time</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Cook Time: <span style="font-style: italic;">40 minutes</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">White Loaf</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: auto;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">15g fresh yeast; or</span></p> <p style="margin-left: 1.27cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"> <span style="font-family:Verdana;">2 tsp dried yeast plus</span></p> <p style="margin-left: 1.27cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"> <span style="font-family:Verdana;">1 tsp sugar; or 1 sachet</span></p> <p style="margin-left: 1.27cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"> <span style="font-family:Verdana;">easy-blend dried yeast</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">300ml lukewarm water</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">500g strong plain flour</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">2 tsp salt</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">15g butter or lard</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">[glaze]</span></p> <p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.04cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"> <span style="font-family:Verdana;">¼ cup lightly salted water</span></p><p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.04cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">1. Dissolve sugar in the water [this feeds the yeast] and add yeast. Leave for 15 minutes to froth up. If using easy-blend yeast, add it straight to the flour. </span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">2. Toss the flour and salt into a bowl. Use your hands to work the butter or lard into the flour. Then make a well in the centre and pour in yeasty water [or plain water if using the sachet].</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">3. Stir to form a dough, then knead with your hands until the dough leaves the side of the bowl.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">4. Turn onto a floured surface and knead for about ten minutes. You want the dough to be firm and not sticky. </span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">5. I rinse out the bowl I used to mix the dough in at this stage, and then put the firm dough back in. Cover with cling film and put it under the radiator [or anywhere warm]. Leave for 1 to 2 hours, or until double the size.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">6. After it’s puffed itself up, give it a good ole punch. This is your chance to channel that aggression pent up from the other half saying “you’re making a mess of my kitchen. You’re gonna clean up this mess!” Punching not only disperses the air throughout the dough, it shows you mean business. You are a force with which to be reckoned. You are in control. You are Zen master. All of your chakras are aligned and you are at peace with the world.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">7. You can either make one large loaf, or now divide the dough into two. I always find the loaves rather small anyway, so I don’t divide them, but this is the time to separate if you want, especially if you’re making rolls.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">8. Place your dough, seam side down, into a greased tin or tray. Cover with cling film [although carrier bags work well if you are doing rolls or a large round loaf]. Leave to rise at room temperature for 40 minutes.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">9. Preheat the oven to 230<span style="font-family:Symbol;"></span>C. When the bread has risen for the occasion, brush the top with some salty water. Baked for just over half an hour.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">10. If baking in tins, they should fall out when turned upside down. Tap the underside – it should sound hollow. If not, blast away for a few minutes more. If they are finished, rest on some cooling racks. Bring them to the attention of your dissenting party[ies], and watch how they grin sheepishly. They’re thinking they wish they knew how to do that. Comment on the smell. “How lovely”, works well. Use words like “rustic”, “salt of the earth” and “nature’s way”. </span> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0