November 2007 Archives

Never let it be said that I don't like a roast turkey. Now, I'm not talking about your dried out, battery farmed dinde. The antibiotic fed, white feathered creatures, breasts bigger than Chesty Morgan, are something I'd rather forget. Fonder memories are of the kind of Norfolk Bronze turkey that my dad used to cook so well.

It turns out that due to increases in food costs (thanks to a poor summer), an eight kilo organic Norfolk Bronze can cost you £100! Yes, £100. What kind of mad person would pay that?

The good news is that we ordered the capon yesterday from Manor Farm Game. If all is well and good, we should be collecting it from a farmer's market on 23 December.

On the subject of foody things.... A very good person served me at the deli counter today at my local supermarket. They seemed oddly pleased that I had asked for ham 'on the bone'. Perhaps it was because that the lady concerned had to use some skill to cut the meat by hand. Perhaps it was because she she was free of the bacon slicer's tyranny. Maybe she was just being nice... Anyway, she gave me three of four thick slices free of charge. Thank you, Mrs.

Question. Why do beggars never hang out in amusement arcades when it is the one place that people are guaranteed to have change?

At last, my quest to find unpastuerised milk in the UK is over! It tastes lovely but isn’t it still illegal though? Answers on a coastguard please.

Alas, the first of our Wine Society “for Christmas” wines have been drunk. For the best part of £20, it was a rather average Saint Joseph. Waitrose are currently doing a very nice one for £9.99 which beats the pants off it. Saint-Joseph les Royes, Domaine Courbis, 2004. at £19.00, you are a disappointment to me. Saint-Joseph, Cave de Saint Desirat, Cuvee Prestige, you are welcome to drop in anytime. You meatiness and minerality are much valued.

Was it just me or did anyone else think that the Spice Girls were miming on Children In Need? Maybe they’re saving their voices for paying customers only. Maybe they require more rehearsal time.

Geri Halliwell seemed to be looking a bit ropey. There may be some legal issues if she re-brands herself as ‘Old Spice’ though. On reflection, it strikes me that I’m only thinking this because her speaking voice sounded so much like a bad Margaret Thatcher impersonation.

Why are programmes like Children In Need and Comic Relief immune from criticism simply because they are for a great cause? The Wogan-fronted monstrosity is like (or basically is) some kind of toe-curling, incestuous BBC variety show. Similarly, we can usually rely on Comic Relief to be a laughter free zone. Institutionalised entertainment seems to be just one paradox too far if you ask me.

Do I give money to our incredibly worthy but, ultimately, tedious telethons? Yes, every time. The problem is that handing over my cash circa 2007 does not make me think of improving the lives of other people at all.

Both programmes have my support one hundred percent in their work, of course. The problem is that these days, the first thought that runs through my mind is, “Thank God, now I have a clear conscience and won’t have to watch the programme.” Time was when I could reflect on the good causes and (on a good day) feel better about myself.

Post telethonic stress syndrome has a lot to answer for.

So, yesterday, the I-Phone was finally launched into the UK. Cue a lot of geeky consumerism obsessed weirdness.

People lined up for hours to have the privilege of being the first Brits to get their hands on Apple's latest ubergadget. Finally, the first customers got their I-Phones and branded carry bags. What happened next was somehow hilarious and scary at the same time.

The first people who were allowed to buy their heart's desire seemed to act as if they felt their entire life had been validated by a higher power (or Steve Jobs). They held up their I-phone carrier bags as if they had been given some kind of award. Had they won the Oscar for Best Picture, discovered the Holy Grail perhaps? No, no. These dudes had done more than that. They had just spent the best part of a day waiting on line and paid £268 for an electronic device.

Frankly, I don't know what worse. The euphoric victors, holding their gadgets aloft or the crowds of eejits applauding them. Weird city, is all I can say.

Maybe Doctor Who got it wrong when they showed that people didn't want to be upgraded into cybermen. Who knows? If Apple were in charge of the conversion process, perhaps we'd all be queuing up round the block. Rapturously the crowd would be applauding those who had managed to get the upgrade.

"Liberty through consumption", is not an attractive slogan. However it's considerably easier to sneak it under the wire of our collective consciousness when it is wrapped in the mantra of "Cutting edge is cool." It all resembles a rather disgusting Orwellian package disguised by a seductive, mouth-watering wrapping of Palma ham.

There is a well known theory of society stating that when citizens have nothing left to contribute to Society then all they are left with is their ability to consume. This has always struck me as a bit harsh. Yet, if we allow others to make us feel 'valuelight' then the road ahead becomes very rocky indeed.

The I-Phone isn't even G3, anyway.

Mackay is fresh from his meat course at The Ginger Pig, Butchers, on Thursday. He prepared himself a large (I think rib) roast while there. Kirsty and I are going round to visit himself and family tonight. Armed with a bottle of Musar 2000, we will eat much good beef.

Pleasingly, the 2000 Musar is lower in alcohol than the somewhat overcooked 1999; a pleasing 13.5%. rather than 14+. If the acidity is any good then maybe we’ll stash a few bottles.

My experiments with brining went very well indeed. The chicken came out incredibly juicy with crispish skin. In the future, I won’t be putting any veg in with the bird though. Last night’s leeks were getting a bit too scorched and that prevented me from torching the chicken skin to my preferred “El crispo” level. Still, the whole exercise was a valuable dry run for Christmas.

Now here is a question. Why is it impossible for the UK police to murder someone? Whatever the rights and vast amounts of wrongs were, they did actually aim to kill Jean Charles de Menezes. Is that not murder? Was John F. Kennedy “Removed” rather than assassinated?

You’ll have to excuse me now. I could shoot dead a cup of tea.

It still exists, apparently!

Things must be getting better. Yesterday morning the appendix was giving me a bit of pain. Today, I feel more of my usual self.

A walk into Balham, to pick up a chicken from Chadwicks, is on the cards. Weight may be dropping off me, but I really do need some serious exercise in order to sleep properly. The walk will do me good.

The current U.S edition of Esquire has an excellent article on brining poultry before roasting. It seals in the succulence, apparently. It’s all very interesting stuff and I will put it to the test with the Christmas capon. A dry run with a chicken is probably a good idea though.

Only days to go before the Rhone 2006 offer from OW LOEB. My eyes are on the Cote Roties, so purchasing will have to be a quick and clinical operation. Best overall harvest since 2001, so folks tell me.

Doctor Who seems to have done well at the National TV Awards. Where will the next series go, we wonder? There’s only so much you can do with a kitschish, sometime Churchillian messiah in the bondage of too much CGI. Only Russell T. Davies has the answers.

Does anyone remember a fruit drink called “Um Bongo”? For some reason, the advert was running through my head the other day. It struck me as rather dodgy. “Um Bongo, Um Bongo. They drink it in The Congo”, was the catch line. Mmmm. Then again, I am the kind of person who thought the Milky Bar Kid looked like a mascot for the Hitler Youth.