I went out a few months ago to buy some beers, seems that i must have been distracted or something.
Was it really that long ago that I last posted?
Monday, 9 November 2009
Thursday, 4 June 2009
Douglas Verdun Rivett - A Tribute
At around 4.30pm yesterday, my paternal Grandfather passed away.
He was 92 years old, was failing slowly in all manner of ways, and much to his disgust was reduced to reliance on others for his most basic needs in a nursing home.
This isn't therefore a treatise on how sad his passing, but a reflection on the happiness that he brought to myself and my siblings.
Doug's rather unusual middle name was due to the nature of his own conception, or at least the ability of his own Father to be there to conceive. The story as I understand it is that Doug's father had been at the Battle of Verdun in the Great War, and had his life saved by a Captain Douglas.
For as long as I can remember Douglas and my Grandmother Pamela lived in a cottage facing Hainault Common in Chigwell Row. Doug worked for Tate and Lyle in their factory on the Royal Docks, and supported West Ham. He loved Motorcycles, and small yappy Pekingese dogs, of which they owned several. The house was small, had a door at the foot of the stairs, decorative plates on a small shelf around the top of the walls and a downstairs bathroom that held a large tub of brylcreme.
When we visited, we would walk the dogs on the common, sit in their beautifully and carefully kept Garden, and hunted the shed at the bottom for the model aeroplanes that where kept within. Ploughman's was often the lunch of choice with fiercely mature Cheddar Cheese and mouth drying home made pickled onions.
He retired the year that my Brother and Sister where born, and I really don't remember him as anything but a slightly gruff man of strong beliefs and convictions, who had married young and had remained devoted to my Grandmother until her sudden and unexpected death. Since then, he has struck me as a desperately lonely man whom had lost his raison d'etre.
The Cottage went, and he moved to Gerrards Cross where his bond with my younger sister Vanessa grew and grew. They would do the crosswords and the lottery together, and she chivvied him about his drinking and his health. she visited him every day, and was tearfull when I spoke to her about him being in the nursing home last weekend, she hated that he was so unhappy.
Now he is no longer unhappy, who knows maybe his spirit is back with his beloved Pam and their friends who have passed over the years.
I loved him very much, and I know that there are many other people out there whose lives where touched by the cheery old gent with the ridiculous dogs. I will miss him of course, but am glad that he's been released from the things that made his life sad.
Self Indulgent as this might seem, I wanted to write it for myself, so that I could remember the good times. I have no care for your opinion.
He was 92 years old, was failing slowly in all manner of ways, and much to his disgust was reduced to reliance on others for his most basic needs in a nursing home.
This isn't therefore a treatise on how sad his passing, but a reflection on the happiness that he brought to myself and my siblings.
Doug's rather unusual middle name was due to the nature of his own conception, or at least the ability of his own Father to be there to conceive. The story as I understand it is that Doug's father had been at the Battle of Verdun in the Great War, and had his life saved by a Captain Douglas.
For as long as I can remember Douglas and my Grandmother Pamela lived in a cottage facing Hainault Common in Chigwell Row. Doug worked for Tate and Lyle in their factory on the Royal Docks, and supported West Ham. He loved Motorcycles, and small yappy Pekingese dogs, of which they owned several. The house was small, had a door at the foot of the stairs, decorative plates on a small shelf around the top of the walls and a downstairs bathroom that held a large tub of brylcreme.
When we visited, we would walk the dogs on the common, sit in their beautifully and carefully kept Garden, and hunted the shed at the bottom for the model aeroplanes that where kept within. Ploughman's was often the lunch of choice with fiercely mature Cheddar Cheese and mouth drying home made pickled onions.
He retired the year that my Brother and Sister where born, and I really don't remember him as anything but a slightly gruff man of strong beliefs and convictions, who had married young and had remained devoted to my Grandmother until her sudden and unexpected death. Since then, he has struck me as a desperately lonely man whom had lost his raison d'etre.
The Cottage went, and he moved to Gerrards Cross where his bond with my younger sister Vanessa grew and grew. They would do the crosswords and the lottery together, and she chivvied him about his drinking and his health. she visited him every day, and was tearfull when I spoke to her about him being in the nursing home last weekend, she hated that he was so unhappy.
Now he is no longer unhappy, who knows maybe his spirit is back with his beloved Pam and their friends who have passed over the years.
I loved him very much, and I know that there are many other people out there whose lives where touched by the cheery old gent with the ridiculous dogs. I will miss him of course, but am glad that he's been released from the things that made his life sad.
Self Indulgent as this might seem, I wanted to write it for myself, so that I could remember the good times. I have no care for your opinion.
Sunday, 17 May 2009
Bang Bang, I shot it down.....
This weekend I went to a Clay Shoot. first time that I've done it in quite a while, and it was bloody freezing, as one would expect of May in the South West.
I'm not at all used to this clay pidgeon shooting game, and lets be honest I'm not all that au-fait with shotguns generally, at least not the ones with the barrels still intact.
I wasn't really expecting to enjoy it quite as much as I did. I had a go at the Black Powder muzzel loader, it was loud as you like but had a really nice smooth kick due to the slow burning black powder. Still couldn't hit a bastard thing with the thing, and then there is the loading process. Quite amusing on a field in Devon, probably bloody terrifying if you have 500 Zulus waving spears as you try and ram down the wadding with the rod. I also took the remaining 9 shots of the Small's round with a nice little 20 bore, as he didn't like the kick. Scoring 4 hits made me remember that I quite like this shooting business.
The big issue at hand though, was a quick test shot or two of Ing. Berretta's new toy. It's damn clever, has a side loading second cartridge, and is designed by Guigario, the man who drew the Maserati Ghilibi. I want one quite a lot. WANT!!!!!!!
Test Match Special.
If you where a BNP nutbar on the lookout for the absolute undiluted essence of Britishness with which to create a yardstick of what we are all about without their idiotic recourse to examination of your skin colour and the place you accidentally got born, then they could do worse than turn on Radio 4.
Radio 4 is of course marvelous in it's own right, the only intelligent approach to news reporting still available to us Englishmen, and home to such institutions as "Mornington Cresent" and "I'm sorry, I haven't a Clue", and the masterful "Just a Minute", but TMS is the Jewel in the Crown.
Today I was listening to the fourth day of the second test between England and the West Indies, the Windies are trying to avoid the follow on, but the chaps on TMS have decided that the best thing to do at this stage is develop a conversation on the distribution, range and call of the Common Oyster Catcher. They may have heard one earlier, or at least the mention of one, which might actually have been an anecdote about Ian Botham's Father playing cards at Oyston in Jamaica.
Genius.
Radio 4 is of course marvelous in it's own right, the only intelligent approach to news reporting still available to us Englishmen, and home to such institutions as "Mornington Cresent" and "I'm sorry, I haven't a Clue", and the masterful "Just a Minute", but TMS is the Jewel in the Crown.
Today I was listening to the fourth day of the second test between England and the West Indies, the Windies are trying to avoid the follow on, but the chaps on TMS have decided that the best thing to do at this stage is develop a conversation on the distribution, range and call of the Common Oyster Catcher. They may have heard one earlier, or at least the mention of one, which might actually have been an anecdote about Ian Botham's Father playing cards at Oyston in Jamaica.
Genius.
My Thoughts on MP's expenses.
Tiddly om pom pom.....
Oh yes, MP's expenses he exclaimed.
It's all quite dull isn't it? though really?
Yes yes, the majority of people are all getting rather aerated about the whole thingummy, but is it really that interesting?
Of course, finding out whom has a moat at home, whose husband likes poor quality soft porno, and whose Gardener gets bonuses that would make a City Gent blush is all very well, but it's all rather sordid isn't it? The Daily Telegraph have been through the metaphorical bins, and come up with, well, a load of old rubbish really.
If you are really concerned about waste of Public Money then honestly, Private Eye has been publishing the most disgraceful abuses for quite literally years, and whats a few thousand spent on a vibrating reclining lounge chair when we are about to shell out Billions of pounds on a Missile system that is of absolutely no use to us whatsoever.
So in all honesty, I've tried to be bothered, but there is some particularly stubborn Honey at the bottom of this pot, and I am sure it would be better in my tum, and anyway Test Match Special is on the wireless.
Oh yes, MP's expenses he exclaimed.
It's all quite dull isn't it? though really?
Yes yes, the majority of people are all getting rather aerated about the whole thingummy, but is it really that interesting?
Of course, finding out whom has a moat at home, whose husband likes poor quality soft porno, and whose Gardener gets bonuses that would make a City Gent blush is all very well, but it's all rather sordid isn't it? The Daily Telegraph have been through the metaphorical bins, and come up with, well, a load of old rubbish really.
If you are really concerned about waste of Public Money then honestly, Private Eye has been publishing the most disgraceful abuses for quite literally years, and whats a few thousand spent on a vibrating reclining lounge chair when we are about to shell out Billions of pounds on a Missile system that is of absolutely no use to us whatsoever.
So in all honesty, I've tried to be bothered, but there is some particularly stubborn Honey at the bottom of this pot, and I am sure it would be better in my tum, and anyway Test Match Special is on the wireless.
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
First in a new very occasional series.....2-bob cooks.
Chunky Chili
This is not a recipe in the accepted 'Delia Smith' sense of the word, more a discussion of what you could sling together to make a decent Chili. I use soya protein substitutes for meat, partly because of the health benefits of low fat content, the fact that I can't eat meat anyway without getting the raging squits, and the risk involved with consuming anything that used to have a face that has been factory farmed and processed on an Industrial basis. Please feel free to apply your own sensibility or risk tolerance to the 'meat' aspect of the list, and don't come crying to me if that cheap processed meat product eventually kills you.
This is also not meant to be a gourmet 'best possible' Chili, it's just easy to make and bloody tasty.
To make: LOTS.
3 Onions
Large pack of Mushrooms
3 Chillies. Use your discretion as to what you use, I use 3 regular supermarket Chillies, i think it gives a nice balance of flavour to heat. The headbangers will use scotch bonnet and pretend to like it, wooftahs can use less. Chop them fairly fine. for less heat remove the seeds. If you wear contact lenses make sure you either wear gloves to do this, or wash your hands LOTS before taking the lenses out tonight. Stand on me.)
1/2 clove of Garlic, chopped fairly fine.
4 teaspoons of vegetable stock powder - marigold is clearly the best.
4 teaspoons of Bisto Onion Gravy granules. (shit I know, but they do a job.)
1 teaspoon Chili Powder
1 teaspoon smoked Paprika powder
2 teaspoons Jerk Seasoning/Cajun seasoning (you can make your own if you are a ponce)
Sprinkle of mixed herbs, fresh Coriander by the handful, or whatever else you fancy
Splosh of Mushroom Ketchup, Tabasco and Soy sauce to taste.
1 can Kidney Beans
1 can Black Eye Beans
1 can Pinto beans
2 cans chopped tomatoes
2 packs of Asda 'beef style meatballs'
1 big pan (approx 5 litres or more)
1 large frying pan
1 litre jug
Cheddar
Spring Onion
Soured cream (small pot)
Chillies
Firstly chop the onions and fry them off in the big pan, chop the mushrooms and add them once the onions start to brown a little, turn down the heat and put a lid on the pan to boil down the mushroom juices. this should take around 10-15 minutes.
Whilst that's happening you'll need to stir the onions and mushrooms fairly regularly, so make the stock by the stove so you can keep an eye.
Put the stock powder, gravy granules, chili powder, Paprika, Seasoning, herbs and sauces into a jug and add about a Litre of water.
Turn the heat back up under the pan, and reduce the mushroom and onion juices until you can fry off the Garlic and Chillies in it.
Add the Tomatoes, Beans and Stock to the pan and simmer gently for a good while.
In the meantime, fry the 'meatballs' in a heavy frying pan until golden brown, and season heavily with salt and pepper.
finally, about 20 minutes before you want to serve, add the meatballs to the Chili, and continue to simmer.
This pot will improve overnight and is happy to be he-heated later, the longer you leave it the better it gets. It also freezes well.
Serve with some grated cheddar, soured cream, chopped spring onions and chopped chili as garnish.
This is not a recipe in the accepted 'Delia Smith' sense of the word, more a discussion of what you could sling together to make a decent Chili. I use soya protein substitutes for meat, partly because of the health benefits of low fat content, the fact that I can't eat meat anyway without getting the raging squits, and the risk involved with consuming anything that used to have a face that has been factory farmed and processed on an Industrial basis. Please feel free to apply your own sensibility or risk tolerance to the 'meat' aspect of the list, and don't come crying to me if that cheap processed meat product eventually kills you.
This is also not meant to be a gourmet 'best possible' Chili, it's just easy to make and bloody tasty.
To make: LOTS.
3 Onions
Large pack of Mushrooms
3 Chillies. Use your discretion as to what you use, I use 3 regular supermarket Chillies, i think it gives a nice balance of flavour to heat. The headbangers will use scotch bonnet and pretend to like it, wooftahs can use less. Chop them fairly fine. for less heat remove the seeds. If you wear contact lenses make sure you either wear gloves to do this, or wash your hands LOTS before taking the lenses out tonight. Stand on me.)
1/2 clove of Garlic, chopped fairly fine.
4 teaspoons of vegetable stock powder - marigold is clearly the best.
4 teaspoons of Bisto Onion Gravy granules. (shit I know, but they do a job.)
1 teaspoon Chili Powder
1 teaspoon smoked Paprika powder
2 teaspoons Jerk Seasoning/Cajun seasoning (you can make your own if you are a ponce)
Sprinkle of mixed herbs, fresh Coriander by the handful, or whatever else you fancy
Splosh of Mushroom Ketchup, Tabasco and Soy sauce to taste.
1 can Kidney Beans
1 can Black Eye Beans
1 can Pinto beans
2 cans chopped tomatoes
2 packs of Asda 'beef style meatballs'
1 big pan (approx 5 litres or more)
1 large frying pan
1 litre jug
Cheddar
Spring Onion
Soured cream (small pot)
Chillies
Firstly chop the onions and fry them off in the big pan, chop the mushrooms and add them once the onions start to brown a little, turn down the heat and put a lid on the pan to boil down the mushroom juices. this should take around 10-15 minutes.
Whilst that's happening you'll need to stir the onions and mushrooms fairly regularly, so make the stock by the stove so you can keep an eye.
Put the stock powder, gravy granules, chili powder, Paprika, Seasoning, herbs and sauces into a jug and add about a Litre of water.
Turn the heat back up under the pan, and reduce the mushroom and onion juices until you can fry off the Garlic and Chillies in it.
Add the Tomatoes, Beans and Stock to the pan and simmer gently for a good while.
In the meantime, fry the 'meatballs' in a heavy frying pan until golden brown, and season heavily with salt and pepper.
finally, about 20 minutes before you want to serve, add the meatballs to the Chili, and continue to simmer.
This pot will improve overnight and is happy to be he-heated later, the longer you leave it the better it gets. It also freezes well.
Serve with some grated cheddar, soured cream, chopped spring onions and chopped chili as garnish.
Today's thoughts.
Must do more blog stuff.....
Must get my act together for Big Bang at Santa Pod next weekend.....
Must try hard not to be over cynical about the media's hype of the 25 Aniversary of Hillsborough.
Must try hard not to be over cynical about sudden appearance of photographic 'evidence'
Must try hard not to be over cynical about the claims made for new improved Bold Automatic.
Must go and clean out the 'Shed of huge disorganisation' as I promised the Doris.
Must get off my arse and get read to go racing this summer, as sitting at home whilst my mates where out at the Pod last weekend was bloody horrible.
Must not write any more sentences that start with 'must.....'
Must get my act together for Big Bang at Santa Pod next weekend.....
Must try hard not to be over cynical about the media's hype of the 25 Aniversary of Hillsborough.
Must try hard not to be over cynical about sudden appearance of photographic 'evidence'
Must try hard not to be over cynical about the claims made for new improved Bold Automatic.
Must go and clean out the 'Shed of huge disorganisation' as I promised the Doris.
Must get off my arse and get read to go racing this summer, as sitting at home whilst my mates where out at the Pod last weekend was bloody horrible.
Must not write any more sentences that start with 'must.....'
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