Midnight Sun

In lieu of any guitar-related content, have a bit of booze news: there’s a pretty good porter currently available in Tesco called Midnight Sun.  It’s all roast caramel and chocolate notes (can’t belive I used the word “notes” there) and is just what the doctor ordered now the weather’s turning cold.  Recommended.  Between this and Old Hookey from the Hook Norton brewery I’m quite enjoying a bit of bottled ale at the moment (even if CAMRA would tell me it isn’t real ale in a bottle as neither are bottle conditioned).

Genepi

This is genepi:

It’s holiday booze of the highest quality, and has the unusual side-effect of conferring immunity to hangovers upon the drinker. Or that’s what our chalet host told us last year: do you, dear reader, know any different? How many people out there have had this stuff? And if you’ve had it (preferably before any other booze), did you get a hangover after? Enquiring minds want to know.

Guardian on curry

After that blog on coffee I pointed out, there’s now a post about curry! I’m starting to think that this guy is my long-lost twin. Personally I don’t select take-aways by type-face or size of menu, but rather by which uses the most outlandish spelling for dishes; the more extraneous h’s and z’s the better, in my opinion, a tantalisingly transliterated tikka jhalfrezzi is far more appealing that the usual fare. That said, my usual take away in Cambridge is the Pipasha, not because the food is good (though it often is), but rather that it’s never been bad. (And the chap who runs it once gave me a calendar, “for special customers only, sir.” I resolved to reduce the frequency of my visits after that.) Other take-aways and restaurants, while they have their high-points, usually end up serving me a lake of grease at some point, which really puts me off (the Moghul Tandoori used to be fantastic, but recently seems to have gone over to the greasy side. A shame, they used to do the best samosas. That said, maybe I shouldn’t criticise them for curries purchased after 10.30pm, they know I’m only there because I’m too drunk to a. cook and b. complain about the quality of the food.) Other people will say the best in Cambridge is the Tandoori Palace, seemingly mainly based on the Fourth Pickle. Seriously though, a fourth pickle is some kind of curry heresy; cucumber salad, lime pickle and mango chutney is all you need. Some may contend that the salad should be raitha, but deep down they must realise the error of their ways.

The post links to another, commenting on the Anjum Anand‘s BBC2 show, Indian Food Made Easy. I can’t quite work out whether the author is being sarcastic or not, because that programme is easily topping my Most Irritating TV Show list at the moment. I love Indian food, so was excited to see a program about it, but something about Anjum makes me reach for the remote control. The camera work is clichéd Cookery Show out of focus shots and hand-held pans, her manner is distressingly condescending… grr. I just wish they’d chosen the host a bit more carefully; last year I went for an Indian cookery lesson with Renuka Patel, who was fantastic, and completely demystified the process of knocking together an authentic curry. (Not to blab the secrets, but a lot of it seems to be about using a mix of chillies and ginger to add heat to the dish.)

I’m cooking up

I spotted an article in the Guardian about an issue dear to my heart: the real black gold, coffee. In the case of the article, it’s the quest for a decent cappuccino.  I’ve used pretty much every method for making coffee that’s available, from instant through to espresso machine.  I’ve come to the conclusion that filter machines make a slightly better cup of coffee than cafetieres but take up far too much space in your kitchen (and don’t look half as cool), and while stove-top espresso machines are great for making a thick black goo containing enough caffeine to keep Rip Van Winkle awake, it’s rare that I can get either a good cup of coffee or shot of espresso out of them.  For what it’s worth I buy my beans from the chap on Cambridge Market; I think his “German Blend” is the best.  And while I agree with this article that you should grind before you drink, I keep my beans in the freezer and have one of those crappy blade-based “grinders”.  A friend once suggested popping a cardamom pod in with the beans when I grind for an extra flavour; I’ve never done this, but it certainly sounds interesting.  Every time I consider trying it we’re either out of cardamom, or the pods look withered and old, which always puts me off.

At work we’ve got a cheap espresso machine on which I’ve been practising my barista skills, and this has led to the same conclusion as the Guardian article: most cappuccinos that you buy in shops are way too milky, or their coffee tastes burnt.  I’m not saying that I continually churn out cappuccinos that an Italian would be proud of, but at least the foam usually holds together all the way down the cup, although I fall foul of usually making the espresso too soon after frothing the milk.  Also I can’t be arsed with making the espresso in a separate cup, so I froth the milk then make the espresso straight through the top of the foam (which you can see the effect of in the picture).

Goose eggs

It is the habit of Kyla and I to have a boiled egg with soldiers on weekends. We popped down to visit my dad at his place in Cornwall a while back, and he gave us a pair of goose eggs, along with a few bantam eggs. Now as any American will tell you, bigger is better, but damn! Look at this beast:

They’re too big for normal egg cups, we had to break out some espresso cups instead!  10 minutes to boil, and to be frank, I’m not sure it was worth the wait: the white was weirdly translucent and gelid, and the yolk, though large, was largely tasteless.  Should have had it fried, as Dad suggested.

Squash

Look at that beast. My Dad gave us this squash, which is one of the many he grew down on his farm. It’s big enough to get about 20 portions out of it, so it’ll be a bit of a feature in our kitchen for the coming week (or however long it takes before it grows a fur coat). At the minute I can think of the following things to do with squash:

• Smear it with harissa and maybe crushed garlic too, then roast it for about 30 mins at gas mark 7.
• Boil it ’til tender then mash it with a bit of grated nutmeg.
• Substitute it for chicken in one of those fajita kits you can buy in supermarkets.

I don’t think that’s going to get through it all. Anyone else have any ideas?

Sunday lunch at The Three Horseshoes, Comberton

I went out for lunch yesterday, and had what is probably the best Sunday roast I’ve had in years. We went to The Three Horseshoes, Comberton, where I had the roast lamb and Kyla had a nut roast. Even the mere fact that they had a nut roast was amazing, Kyla wasn’t stuck with the usual “no meat yet exactly the same price as a full roast” option. Even better, both the roasts were very good, both being accompanied by a pile of veg (mashed swede, cabbage, leeks, carrots, roast parsnip and roast potatoes) that were cooked for the right amount of time, rather than being served as vegetable puree.  Frankly it was a scary amount of food, but somehow I prevailed.  The Harvey’s Best and Tim Taylor’s Landlord were both well kept and tasty, and Greene King IPA was also available, though I didn’t try that.  Heartily recommended.  But not if you want to do anything other than sit groaning on a sofa afterwards.
I’ve actually eaten there once before, one time in the summer.  I had the homemade spicy chilli burger, which certainly packed a bit of a kick.  When we’d all finished the landlord came out and asked how the burger had been, so I told him it was pretty damn spicy.  He replied, “Yeah I’ve been messing around with the recipe, at the moment I’m putting a whole chopped scotch bonnet chilli in.”  “That would be it, sure,” I said.

Pasty ponderings

I was in Cornwall this weekend and read on the front page of the local rag that a war of words between Devon and Cornwall was brewing over which county had made the first pasty. Kyla and I joked that it was the kind of crap story that was bound to make the nationals, and here it is. I’d always thought that the theory that the pasty was invented to miners to avoid poisoning themselves had a ring of truth to it, but I’d also heard that the miners had to discard the crimped end of the pasty to avoid angering the ghosts of workers killed in the mines, so you shouldn’t take me as a reliable source.

There seems to be an explosion of high-street pasty vendors at the moment; the West Cornwall pasty stand at King’s Cross has for the past couple of years provided a welcome alternative to Burger King for those last-train-home-from-London evenings out, but now Cambridge high street has a whole W. Cornwall shop, joining the Pasty Presto that’s been open for a year or so. I’d prefer it if there was a decent baker/patisserie somewhere, but it seems that Cambridge City Council insists on increasing the city centre rents up to the point that only nation-wide chains can afford to run a store there. Pasties today; I wonder what regional dish will be commercialised next. Lancashire Hot Pot? Melton Mowbrays?

Chili bean soup recipe

Or, blogging last night’s dinner.

This is about 3 lunch-sized servings or two if you’re hungry:

Roughly chop one onion and 1-2 cloves of garlic (depending on how garlicky you like things; I of course used two).  Fry the onions and garlic in a little oil for couple of minutes with dried cumin, dried coriander, and chilli powder (start with a heaped teaspoon of each; you can add more at the end.)  Add one tin of toms, one drained tin of kidney beans, one tin’s worth of water and a stock cube, then simmer for about 20 mins or until beans are cooked.  Blitz the mixture in a food processor or blender, season to taste, then eat.  Alternatively, to serve as a meal or just to make it a bit less healthy, place the soup in a heat-proof bowl and cover with tortilla crisps.  Cover crisps with grated cheese and grill or bake until cheese melts, then serve with dollop of sour cream on top.

More ginger beer

Diccon, original Acuphuncture bassist, sent me an alternate recipe for ginger after reading my ginger plant-based efforts:

At the moment I’m making ginger beer by just putting in a load of root ginger, sugar and lemons into a demijohn for a few days with yeast (baking yeast at the moment) and then filtering the stuff into bottles (plastic ones… definitely not wine ones, or champagne ones if you have them lying around) and putting them in the bottom of the fridge (slow the fermentation so they don’t explode).  I just wait until the bottles become solid with the pressure – which can be as little as six hours. Quickest I’ve done it is 3 days altogether.  It takes about half an hour to slowly open them without having them decorate the kitchen with a beautiful veneer of ginger beer (another time when I wasn’t thinking I received two litres of ice cold gb straight in the face which I’m sure looked funny if anyone had been there to watch).

Most of the time about two or three lemons to the gallon and a knob of ginger (smash it with a rolling pin before putting it in) with about a pound of sugar – it turns out much much better than the stuff in cans. Brown sugar or honey makes it to die for, but it makes it much more expensive (especially since I feel robbed by the yeast feasting on it). I’d recommend this method over the plant – not just because of my bitter experience, but I found that the taste is fresher – after a week the flavour has gone from the lemons and ginger and although you could get more flavour out the same stuff, I find it easier just to start again every time. However, I’m sure there are people who will swear by the plant method.

So there’s another method entirely.  Maybe I’ll give this a go next summer, or at least when I next have five minutes free that isn’t occupied with organising my wedding.  I wonder if there’s some correlation between love of funk and love of ginger beer…