Friday, 31 December 2004

Happy New Year!

No longer living in Scotland, I no longer have to call it "Hogmanay", which I've always felt is a slightly silly word. I'm glad to escape the Scottish celebrations, too. I would never dispute that the Scots celebrate New Year better than anyone else in the world, but it's not for me. Perhaps it's because the vast majority of my years have been fairly shit that I am less than enthusiastic about the arrival of yet another one, or maybe I'm just irretrievably English. This year, however, has been so spectacularly bad, that, for once, I am looking forward to the next one. It is extraordinarily unlikely that it won't constitute at least a small improvement. So there will be a bit of optimistical celebrationing this evening. I still doubt I'm going to get drunk, though.

Tomorrow, on the other hand, is a big celebration: my mother-in-law's sixtieth. There'll be more people in her house than at any time since my wedding, with much food and drink. I will be in charge of one of my specialities: home-made Pimm's. Here I must stress that I do not know or claim to know what goes into real Pimm's, which I'm sure is a closely-guarded secret recipe. However, I do know how to make a drink that tastes — by sheer naked coincidence, their lawyers will no doubt insist — remarkably similar to Pimm's. I know my version must be at least slightly different, because it tastes better. In the traditional New Year spirit of enabling the drunkenness of others, here's the recipe.

  • 2 parts gin.

  • (Plymouth gin is by far the best. But you knew that.)

  • 2 parts red vermouth.


  • A little more than 1 part triple sec.

  • (According to its label, Cointreau is a type of triple sec. That may well be true, but don't use it; get some proper stuff which tastes a little less like a flamethrower.)

  • a dash of Angostura bitters.

Shake well. Add lemonade to taste. Throw in slices of lemon, lime, orange, and cucumber. The cucumber is just a weird English tradition; it seems to do nothing for the taste, but gives a good impression.

Using this recipe, you will find that you can get a roomful of people very drunk very cheaply, without any of them being aware at any stage that they are drinking anything particularly strong.

Have fun. See you next year.

The eternal question.

Courtesy of God Save The Queen, here's a link to Clive James, writing what must be the largest amount of intelligence and common sense ever to appear on one page about Israel and Arabia.

For the Israelis, anti-Semitism is merely a nightmare. For the Palestinians, it's a catastrophe. If you believe, as I do, that the Palestinians' cause is just, nothing could be more depressing than to hear them spout the very stuff that guarantees they will never get an even break.

...

Anti-Semitism is so obviously insane that no refutation of it should be necessary, and indeed after the Holocaust the feeling was widespread throughout the world that the whole demented notion had at last become an historical back number, like phlogiston or the belief that mirrors could leak lightning. Throughout the world: but not, alas, throughout the Arab world.

...

The University of the Holocaust had as many dumb graduates as clever ones. Nazi anti-Semitism was so awful in its irrationality that any contrary force is likely to be irrational as well. The only rational contrary force is called democracy, which conquers extremism by containing it.

 

Thursday, 30 December 2004

Serge A Storms.

If you don't read Tim Dorsey's books, then (a) you should and (b) Serge's new blog will mean nothing to you.

So buy the books first, then read the blog.

Wednesday, 29 December 2004

An unorthodox way to roast a turkey.

(And yet another Daily Bread post. I'm dead gastronomic today, me.)

I think it was 1991. My dad & I (it was just the two of us living together) wanted to invite my dad's friend Terry round for Christmas dinner. But Terry couldn't leave his sick dog alone overnight, and giving Terry a lift back that night would mean my dad wouldn't be able to drink alcohol (on Christmas Day!), and it just wasn't going to happen. We couldn't rightly invite ourselves round to Terry's place, thus forcing him to cook a huge meal for us. Then my dad hit on an ingenious solution.

On Christmas morning, he roast the turkey until it needed another hour or so in the oven, took it out of the oven and wrapped it in towels to keep it warm, put it in the boot of the car, drove it and me right across London to Terry's place, and put it into the oven that Terry had waiting for it. For the whole journey, we were hoping that this compromise between cooking and travel wouldn't wreck the meat. And it didn't.

In fact, the turkey was fantastic: incredibly moist and tender; one of the best we'd ever had. Being wrapped in towels for a while seemed to have done quite a brilliant job. My dad & I have been joking ever since that we should try that method again sometime.

Well, this year, I did. Only without the car boot.

It was only a small turkey we had: it was going to need about an hour and three-quarters done the usual way. I made a rough guess, based on nothing, that two minutes wrapped in towels would be about equivalent to one minute in the oven. So I roast the turkey in foil for an hour and a bit, took it out and wrapped it in foil and some tea towels and a bath towel and left it for about half an hour or so, then put it back in the oven, without the foil, for another half hour or so, basting occasionally. I then got distracted by vegetables and left it in for at least ten minutes longer than I'd intended. Oops.

And the results were fantastic. Definitely the best turkey I've ever roasted.

Boiling a ham in Diet Coke.

(This is another post for The Daily Bread.)

It was Nigella who made boiling bacon in Coke famous in the UK, and she says you should never use Diet Coke. She's not diabetic, though, so she can shut up.

I did this on Christmas Eve, and the results were pretty good. I took a nice ham, stuck it in my biggest pot, added two litres and a bit of Diet Coke, some apple juice, and lots of cinnamon and black pepper, brought it to the boil, and simmered for about an hour. Then I fished it out, put it in a roasting tray, poured a few spoonfuls of the cooked Diet Coke mixture over it, covered it in foil, and roast it for about an hour, removing the foil for the last twenty minutes or so. Then I left it to cool overnight.

Like I said, the results were very good — but not good enough. The ham is exceedingly delicious, but not all that Cokey. I don't just want a little hint of Coke flavour around the edges; I want lots, right through. I don't think this is a result of using Diet Coke instead of Coke: I did this with Coke once before, with similar results. Part of the problem may be that the recipe is designed for bacon, and I'm using ham: ham is denser than bacon, so might be more resistant to permeation by the liquid. The other problem is simply that Coke isn't strong enough.

So here's my plan for next time.

I'm going to use at least twice as much Diet Coke, and reduce it before using it. And I'm going to leave the ham sitting in the liquid for a whole day before I turn the heat on.

I shall report back.


Update:

This one's looking controversial. James at Arcanus Maximus says that the Aspartame in Diet Coke breaks down.

To clarify aspartame when heated breaks down into methanol, and other chemicals. At best it wil lose it's sweetness. At worst, it might become toxic chemicals. The end result is debated. It is best not to use it in cooking at all.

I have several family members who are diabetic so I understand the dangers of sugars as well. In the ham recipe the sugars are meant to caramelize and form a crust. I doubt diet coke would do that. The acid and other flavors would also improve the taste and tenderness. At best diet coke I suspect would add little to the flavor, but I have no clue. I haven't tried it.


I have to say that nothing toxic appears to have occurred, but I haven't submitted the ham for chemical analysis or anything: for all I know, havign eaten a few slices of this stuff, I'm going to die a few days earlier than I had been going to. But I doubt it. Coca-Cola are well aware that Coke gets used in recipes. If cooking Diet Coke were seriously dangerous, their lawyers would have stuck warnings all over the bottles by now.

But James is right about the crust: there isn't one, not that that bothers me: it's the flavour through the meat that concerns me. And he appears to be right about the sweetness: there's not much. As I said before, the ham is still delicious, but, next time, I'm going to try adding a load of Splenda, too. Still plenty of acids and other flavours in Diet Coke, though, and they appear to have had some effect.

If you don't have some good health reason to avoid sugar, use Coke. It probably gives better results and might not kill you.


Another update:

Estelle has emailed to say that she reckons that aspartame does break down into something dodgy:

Nigella may have said not to cook the ham in
diet coke because it is not healthy. I have a degree in chemistry and I have
read a little about this matter: it is unhealthy to cook artificial sugar.


Well, I'm not dead yet, but, if I may say so, buggeration.

Back to the drawing board.

My wife bought me a gravy strainer for Christmas.

(This is my latest post from The Daily Bread.)

Ah, the joys of marriage.

Actually, she did buy me lots of other things, including a large box of Bendick's Bittermints. The gravy strainer wasn't the primary gift or anything. We're not that crap. But it does have a story behind it.

About a year and a half ago, I made some gravy. I think I was roasting a chicken at the time, and I was sick of the way that I always got gravy wrong, so I decided to put some real effort in for once. The entire time that the chicken was roasting, I made the gravy. I fried diced mushrooms and grated carrots in butter and teriyaki, added seasoning and herbs and a little stock, boiled it down, squished it through a sieve, added juices from the roasting chicken, made a roux, added the gravy to the roux, built it up with milk and more stock, and then just added anything that I thought might taste good, before reducing it for about an hour. The gravy was, I have to say, pretty damn good. And Vic & I didn't eat it all, so a load of it went into the freezer. Since then, every time I've roasted meat, the gravy has come out of the freezer and had the juices of yet another roast added to it, along with anything tasty within reach. We never eat all of it. It has stayed with us through two house-moves. After this Christmas, there is more of it than ever before.

Here's a list of ingredients that I know for a fact are now in there:
  • the juices of multiple roasts: chicken, turkey, beef, pork, ham, duck, and lamb

  • flour

  • butter

  • milk

  • a myriad stock cubes

  • pepper & salt

  • tomato puree

  • mushrooms

  • onions

  • carrots

  • lots of cinnamon

  • ginger

  • nutmeg

  • cloves

  • various herbs

  • orange juice

  • apple juice

  • pineapple juice

  • red wine

  • Diet Coke

  • whiskey

  • teriyaki

  • ketchup

  • lemon juice

  • turmeric

  • Worcestershire sauce

  • barbecue sauce

  • mustard

  • Telma chicken soup mix

  • Vegemite

  • caramelised onion chutney

  • bits of any vegetables cooking nearby

  • some Heinz baked beans, I think

  • left-over soup

  • the stuff that drips out of a George Foreman grill

  • the scrapings off a George Foreman grill

  • scrapings off the bottom of the roasting tray

  • the left-over sauce from a couple of casseroles, liquidized

  • cheese of some sort


On Christmas Eve, I boiled a ham in Diet Coke (more on that later). Once it was done, I kept the Diet Coke, and used that both to baste the turkey I roast on Boxing Day and to thin the gravy. When the ham cooled down, a load of jelly formed under it. No prizes for guessing where that went. I also used the Diet Coke to boil the turkey's giblets and neck, and the liquid resulting from that went, of course, into the gravy.

So the gravy strainer's not a bad present, really.

Friday, 24 December 2004

One or two slight problems with public transport.

Mr Spacejack is upset that bastards like me have the temerity to drive cars, against his explicit wishes. Gosh.

(Yeah, I know: two and a half years old, and I just get round to it now. Well, I only found it the other day.)

First off, I'm not talking about people with a real legitimate need to drive; like if you're unfortunate enough to drive for a living, or you've got to move a large piece of furniture across town, have to drive a bunch of kids to hockey practice, or those who live in rural areas without public transportation, or even carpoolers (do they even exist anymore?).


That's awfully big of you. You mean to say that some of us have your permission? I'm weeping with gratitude.

I'm talking about you urban-dwelling twits, one to a car, who could easily, easily be taking the bus or the subway instead, but refuse to because of some stuck-up class superiority hangup, while opposing any sort of investment in public transportation.


There are many reasons why I avoid public transport, and class superiority is not one of them.

Let's leave aside the dubious assumption that we all have some sort of moral duty to use public transport, that it is somehow more inherently evil to travel by yourself in a small vehicle than with a bunch of strangers in a large one. (And if public transport is so much cleaner, then how comes bus-only streets are so polluted?) Here is a list of requirements I have for any transport, public or private, before I use it. They're quite basic requirements; nothing fancy.

  • I would like to be able to sit down if I want to.


  • If I'm travelling with my wife, I'd like to sit next to her.


  • I would like to sit in a clean seat that has not recently been set alight.


  • I do not want a pool of drink, spit, vomit, or urine, or old food, or litter at my feet.


  • I do not wish to be shouted at, or spat at, or be slapped, or have sectarian songs sung loudly and threateningly at me.


  • I do not want anyone to accidentally sit on me or to fall on me.


  • I want braking, whenever possible, to be gradual. I wish to be thrown out of my seat by an emergency stop less frequently than twice a minute.


  • I don't want the driver to insult me.


  • I do not wish to get chewing gum on my clothes.


  • I don't want to put up with listening to other people's racist slurs.


  • I don't want a fight to break out next to me.


  • If I buy something while I'm out, I want somewhere to put the shopping bags.


  • While I'm getting in or out of the vehicle, I want the option of having it stay still.


  • I don't want anyone to blow cigarette smoke into my face.


  • I do not wish to sit next to anyone whose body odour is so overpowering that it literally makes me gag.


  • I want to be able to get in and out of the vehicle without being jostled, pushed out of the way, or sworn at.


  • I want to take a fairly reasonable amount of time over my journey.

  • For example, getting home from my last job, I had a choice between using the train, which took an hour and a half, or taking the car, which took less than thirty minutes, including the time taken to walk to the car. I don't mind a bit of a delay, but that seems excessive.

  • I would like the temperature of the vehicle to be neither so hot that I sweat like a pig in a plastic bag and get a migraine nor so cold that I can't feel my toes.


  • I don't want the driver to be reading a paper while driving.


  • I don't want the journey to be unnecessarily complicated.

  • I used to have to commute from Govanhill to Uddingston, in Glasgow. A direct route does exist, and no public transport goes anywhere near it. A direct train line even exists, but the trains, for mystical reasons, don't use it. The first fifteen minutes or so of every journey had to be spent travelling in the opposite direction to where I was headed. Similarly, in my current job, I could use public transport if I were to allow an extra hour and a half or so for all the unneccessary distance I would have to travel.

  • I do not want to spend any time at all in a sewer.

  • This is not a figure of speech. It is a reference to Dalmarnock Station in Glasgow. I recommend visiting it once — otherwise, you'd simply never believe it — and never going back.

  • If I'm delayed, I still want to be able to get home late at night.


  • I do not wish to catch hypothermia while waiting for the vehicle.


  • I do not wish to be mugged or assaulted while waiting for the vehicle.


  • When the vehicle arrives, I would like it to stop.

  • In Glasgow, it is not uncommon to see people at bus stops get so pissed off with bus drivers refusing to stop that they stop the next bus by walking into the middle of the road and blocking its path.

  • If I am outside the vehicle in heavy rain, I do not wish the driver to refuse to let me in, just for their own amusement.


  • I do not wish the driver to lock me in the vehicle while he leaves to use a phonebox or toilet or do some shopping.


  • I don't want anyone to kick me in the back of the head.


  • I do not wish the driver to take a long alternative route for no apparent reason and refuse to tell me or any other passenger how long it's likely to take.


At the moment, the method of transport that meets these requirements is my car.

Charity, cynicism, and utter bollocks.

In my earlier post about Band Aid 20 (which I stand by), I linked to this piece by Joan Smith. While it makes a lot of very good points, it also contains some crap. In the spirit of journalistic balance, it's about time I laid into it.

Clearly something happens to people who buy singles at this time of the year, putting them in the mood for repeated doses of sugary sentimentality as they prepare to spend several trying days cooped up with their relatives.


This is true, but not really why people bought the Band Aid single. You may disagree about whether it's a good idea, but the fact is that the reason the single did so well was that people bought it out of a desire to help the starving. Criticise the outcome of their charity, by all means, but their intentions were noble.

Even in the more innocent age in which it was first recorded, it seemed absolutely gob-smacking that no one involved in the project questioned the appropriateness of singing Do They Know It's Christmas? in the context of a famine in Ethiopia.

Not only was it difficult to believe that starving children and their parents had given much thought to Santa, but as Julie Burchill pointed out at the time, many of the intended recipients of Geldof's largesse were Muslims.


Julie Burchill veers wildly between brilliant insight and utter idiocy. This is one of the latter cases.

The idea behind Christmas is not to give generously but only to our type and not to them heathens. It is to give generously. I'm an Atheist myself, but have always regarded the festival as one of Christianity's greatest gifts to our civilisation. (Yes, I'm well aware that the Solstice was celebrated before Christianity appropriated it. The point of the Pagan celebrations was to get drunk, eat a lot, and hope the Summer was going to come back yet again this year. These are all good things, and I'm glad they're still with us, but it was Christianity that enshrined the ideals of generosity and charity in Christmas.) A time of year whose entire point is to give people things that will make them happy. It's simple and it's brilliant. Christianity has, in its time, had sects who have seen it as their duty to punish, even kill, unbelievers and heretics. Those sects have been in charge of the Church at times. No Christians I know of regard those parts of their history as something to be proud of. It's interesting to see how the multicultural leftists, who pride themselves so much on their sensitivity to other cultures, have so eagerly embraced the idea that Christians should ignore the suffering of non-Christians.

Two decades later, with Islam at the top of the political agenda, it would be reasonable to expect a greater degree of cultural sensitivity from even the most bone-headed celebrities.


Got that? For Christians to try to help Muslims at Christmas time is cultural insensitivity. Presumably, Muslim charities aren't allowed to help non-Muslims either. What a wonderful multicultural world we do live in, and no mistake.

What makes it even worse this time is that the proceeds of the record are intended for Sudan, where the Darfur region has become notorious as the site of a savage religious and ethnic conflict, prosecuted against the Christian and Animist population by the Janjaweed (Muslim) militia.


Yes, if there's one thing even worse than Christians giving to Muslims at Christmas, it's Christians giving to Christians at Christmas. Is there no end to their perfidy?

Apart from that, I have to agree with everything else Smith writes (except that I think the verses of the song have a rather good tune, though the chorus and middle-eight are shite). The Band Aid project is fundamentally flawed. If the reason you have no food is natural disaster, then a gift of food will help you. If the reason you have no food is that men who want to kill you have burned your crops, then a gift of food is less help. It might help you survive for a little while, but, sooner or later, the men are going to come for you, and, at that point, what you'll need are guns. And yet... and yet....

Bob Geldof is not a stupid or an ignorant man. He knows the problems in Africa are largely caused by dictators. He knows that a lot of the aid he offers won't do what he wants it to, won't go where he wants it to; he knows that some of it will be counterproductive. He knows that Band Aid didn't work perfectly, and made plenty of mistakes. But he does make one simple point. There are people alive today who would be dead if it weren't for Band Aid and Live Aid. You can argue back and forth about whether a lack of charity would make revolution more likely and whether charity therefore leads to a greater number of deaths, but not everyone can always look at the big long-term picture. Sometimes, you have to act like a human — and a good thing, too. So you give food to the starving. And it doesn't always work, but, if you give enough food to enough starving people, then some of it will work. And you end up with people — perhaps not as many as you'd have liked, but some people — who would have died but instead have lived, thanks to you.

As Fran Healy said, they're just musicians, and all they can do is sing. Bob Geldof & Midge Ure have found a way to turn mere singing into saved lives. Sometimes, your duty is to help those who need your help, to the best of your abilities. I think I'll buy a copy.

Thursday, 23 December 2004

A diversion.

Jackie's done it, so so shall I. Sun ink to do, in it?

Three Names You Go By:
1. Jo
2. Squander Two
3. Mr... er... sorry, how do you pronounce that?

Three Things You Like About Yourself:
1. My wife.
2. My taste in eyewear.
3. My ability to touch the ground without bending my knees.

Three Things You Dislike About Yourself:
1. My childhood.
2. My bouts of depression.
3. My tendency to piss off people I like.

Three Parts of Your Heritage:
1. English.
2. Jewish.
3. Australian.

Three Things That Scare You:
1. Sudden loud noises.
2. The threat of intense pain.
And that's it.

Three of Your Everyday Essentials:
1. Clothes.
2. Food.
3. Diet Coke.

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. My wedding ring.
2. Some rather excellent FCUK wraparound shades with prescription lenses.
3. Silver cufflinks.

Three of Your Favorite Bands/Artists (at the moment):
1. No-Man.
2. Vast.
3. Snow Patrol.

Three of Your Favorite Songs at Present:
1. Photogenic by Squander Pilots.
2. Chocolate by Snow Patrol.
3. Is It 'Cause I'm Cool? by Mousse T.

Three New Things You Want to Try in the Next 12 Months:
1. Getting to grips with Ableton Live.
Apart from that, no plans. I'll know them when I see them.

Three Things You Want in a Relationship (love is a given):
1. Trust.
2. Fidelity.
3. Physical affection.

Two Truths and a Lie:
1. The Communists banned surnames in Mongolia.
2. Bats squeak so loudly that, if we could hear them, they'd deafen us.
3. Everest is the world's tallest mountain.

Three Physical Things About the Opposite Sex That Appeal to You:
1. Grace.
2. Poise.
3. Buttocks.

Three Things You Just Can't Do:
1. Run for long distances.
2. Pronounce the letter S as a whistle for comic effect.
3. Fly.

Three of Your Favorite Hobbies:
1. Making music.
2. Watching films.
3. Blogging.

Three Things You Want to do Really Badly Right Now:
1. Go to lunch.
2. Finish work for Christmas.
3. Empty my bladder.

Three Places You Want to Go on Vacation:
1. Corsica.
2. Chicago.
3. Prague.

Three Kids' Names:
1. Eva.
2. Ben.
3. Phoebe.

Three Things You Want to Do Before You Die:
1. Have a child, one way or another.
2. Become self-employed.
3. See a cure for diabetes.

Wednesday, 22 December 2004

The 1952 Committee.

The 1952 Committee are a group of ex-Tories who have left the party for good because Howard is backing Blunkett's ID card proposals, plus some who'd already left the Tories but have been made even more determined not to return because Howard is backing Blunkett's ID card proposals, plus a couple who can't vote in UK general elections but, if they could, wouldn't because Howard is backing Blunkett's ID card proposals.

So where does that leave me? As far as I can see, what unites these people is, to a lesser or greater extent, some degree of surprise. Why? All Howard has done is exactly what anyone with half a brain always knew he — or any other Tory leader — would do. ID cards are not a Labour scheme. Labour just happen to be the government who will finally manage to push them through. It's not like the Tories never supported the idea when they were in power. It's not like the Tories have paid anything more than lip service to the idea of personal freedom for many, many years. It's not like they have a Libertarian wing worth speaking of. They're a bunch of authoritarians. Their solution to every problem ever is to give greater power to Whitehall. Howard was a typically authoritarian Tory Home Secretary, and he hasn't changed. I was surpised at the reaction from so many Libertarians when Howard became leader. "Oh," they said, "now we'll see a strong leader make the Tories electable again!" I can see why a traditionalist party-loyal Tory Conservative like Peter Cuthbertson might support Howard, but why on Earth would any Libertarian with a memory think the man had anything to offer?

I actually have grudgingly to applaud Howard for his honesty. Because, had he opposed ID cards while in opposition, I absolutely guarantee that he would have tried to introduce them if he ever became PM. At least, this way, you know what you're voting for. Or against.

So I approve of the 1952 Committee in principle. But I don't think I can join, because I never would have voted Tory, because I always knew that they would do this.