Denniblog

When it comes to nose-to-rail eating eating, I’ve done badly with nose and heels, but I have used my share of heads and trotters.

Now it’s the turn of the tails.

Oildown is a dish I have heard much about, but never tried. Luckily, there are many recipes online. The dish seems to be simplicity itself, once you’ve sourced the ingredients!
[read on]

Even before the credit crunch, eating offal and ‘neglected cuts’ (such as ears and feet) became fashionable among the chattering classes, thanks to celebrity chefs such as Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Fergus Henderson. But they are mainly regarded as things to chat about, not get stuck in day-to-day.

For me such meats have always been on the menu. I grew up in the countryside, and my elders tolerated no fuss when it came to eating. But I remember that most of the dishes were quite dull. The challenge is to come up with new and exciting ways to cook them. And, as always, travel provides the answer.

Tails, trotters, ears, noses and some bits of offal are what is generally known as the ‘fifth quarter’—food that was sold to the poor or given to slaves. While the Brits and North Americans nowadays tend to grind this sort of thing into their hot dogs, these items are still for sale in ethnic neighbourhoods (and some farmers’ markets), and they greatly influence the cuisines of the Caribbean and the US Deep South.

Nothing rams history down your throat like eating local fare. You can get pig tail stew a scant three-minute stroll from Tobago’s five-star Coco Reef Resort. Ditto cow heel soup. Cow heel soup is everywhere in Trinidad and Tobago. But as with so many ethnic dishes, over here it’s a closely guarded secret, and I had to go to T&T to find out what the fuss is about.

So when we were in London last week, I took a deep breath and pointed at one of the huge scorched cow’s legs that are for sale at the butchers in Deptford, wondering how I would get the thing into my pot.

No problem. Every ghetto butcher’s comes with a band saw.
[read on]

There is hope for civil liberties in this country!

Transcript follows:

[aldermaston_tng] PEACE WOMEN DEFEAT MINISTRY OF DEFENCE IN FREEDOM TO PROTEST CASE
Thursday, 5 February, 2009 5:02 PM
From:
“info@aldermaston.net”
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To:
aldermaston_tng@lists.riseup.net

Aldermaston Women’s Peace Camp(aign)
5 FEBRUARY 2009

PEACE WOMEN DEFEAT MINISTRY OF DEFENCE IN FREEDOM TO PROTEST CASE

A Ministry of Defence (MoD) byelaw banning camping ouside the Atomic Weapons Establishment Aldermaston was quashed by the court of appeal today. The case, heard on 26th November 2008, was an appeal in the Judicial Review of the Secretary of State for Defence’s decision to introduce byelaws which would have criminalised camping as a form of peaceful protest.

The case brought by Aldermaston Women’s Peace Camp(aign) hinged on whether the government’s ban on camping violated their rights to freedom of expression and assembly guaranteed by Articles 10 and 11 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR).

Aldermaston Women’s Peace Camp(aign) have been camping outside the Atomic Weapons Establishment every month for the last 24 years, in opposition to the manufacture of UK’s nuclear weapons. Following the original hearing on 1st February 2008, the court quashed a byelaw outlawing the attaching of banners to the perimeter fence. The MoD chose not to appeal. Today’s judgement reverses the original ruling that the ban on camping was justified.

In a unanimous verdict, the Court of Appeal today rejected the Secretary of State for Defence’s arguments saying, “Rights worth having are unruly things”. The byelaw prohibiting camping was quashed and the women’s peace camp is no longer criminalised. This ruling has an impact beyond AWPC and the Aldermaston nuclear weapons factory. It strengthens the right to protest and legitimises camping as a form of protest.

Speaking outside the court after today’s judgement, a representative from the Aldermaston Women’s Peace Camp said “We welcome today’s outcome, which is not only a victory for the women’s peace camp but an important judgement on the right to protest. Aldermaston Women’s Peace Camp will continue to hold our lawful camp to protest against the government’s unlawful nuclear weapons”.

ENDS

–

Media contact details
press@aldermaston.net / 07887 802879

Further information
Full background briefing and high resolution images available at http://aldermaston.net

Only in Britain would the words ‘Terrorism’ and ‘Health and Safety’ be used in conjunction to justify the prosecution of peace protesters.

I’m referring to the 2006 amendment of the SOCPA (Serious Organised Crime and Police Act) that covers trespassing on nuclear sites licensed by the Health and Safety Executive, and was justified by the MOD as protecting “the general public’s democratic right to protest by ensuring that any such protests are conducted in a safe and controlled environment.”

The fact that sitting on the fence with a peace-flag can get you branded as a terrorist is all in our best interest, then.

Well, it has happened to one of the AWPC women. One who is braver than me, and more determined to make a stand against the expansion of the Trident program, even if it is only by sitting on the fence and not—say—entering the base, let alone threatening anyone.

[EDIT: The case has been dismissed. Phew. Looks like the judiciary is keeping government/MOD paranoia at bay. But the issue was a technical one; the new anti terror legislation stands, in all its fearsomeness.]

We had two BBQs this year!

We could have had even more because, in July, summer came to England (but not to West Scotland).

Now it’s just a happy memory, of course.

Nevertheless, on July 26th, we got John’s work gang and a few mates around for a proper BBQ cook-out. I had a freezer brimming with marinated meats and boxes of free-range chicken wings—bought in a moment of giddiness when the sun peeked out while we were shopping. In addition I bought mince meat, sausages, a heap of roasting vegetables, strawberries, cream, meringue, sticky chocolate pudding and icecream.

Then I made the salads, dips and sauces.

Imagine my surprise when our guests assumed it was a pot luck and brought prime steak, giant prawns, a chocolate gâteau and tinned grapefruit.

Somehow we went through it all. Except for the green salad. What is it with boys and green food?

*****

In other news: we have been adopted by a cat

Over the past year or so, our Friendly Neighbourhood Atomic Weapons Facility has sprouted a veritable forest of cranes across several building sites which—over time—gave rise to a new laser facility, super-computer building (looking a bit like this one) and a new office block.

Meanwhile, planning applications have been arriving in my inbox at up to bi-weekly intervals for anything from gardening sheds to parking facilities for 1500 new staff. Oh, and some associated sundries:

And in February, AWE was delighted that an important planning application was granted for work to start on replacing its High Explosives Fabrication Facility (HEFF) at its Aldermaston site

(Connect ISSUE 3/SUMMER 08 p.2)

Could it be that the decision to replace Trident has already been taken?

P.S. I’m surprised to see that the Women’s Peace Camp(aign) website doesn’t contain the press release I’ve just received. I’m subscribed to their aldermaston_tng Yahoo group via info@aldermaston.net.

Last week my sister was visiting, and on Saturday the sun peeked through the clouds just about long enough for us to attempt our once-a-year BBQ cook-out.

The occasion—aside from her visit—was our 19th wedding anniversary. John’s workmates had given him a bottle of champagne which would probably have gone undrunk until our silver jubilee, if it was just the two of us. (Well, I would have drunk it, but that’s not really the idea…). So, with the strawberry season at it’s peak, the starter was a no-brainer:

With just three people attending, it was hard to restrain myself when it came to the prep. I reluctantly gave up on humous, seeing that I was out of tahini anyway. I also didn’t have any aubergines, but we needed a Mediterranean influence so I made mini lamb köfte balls:

500g lamb mince; 4 spring onions; 1 batch ras-el-hanout (Waitrose does an authentic mix. Failing that, it’s 1 pinch allspice, 2tsp nutmeg, 20 threads saffron, 1½tsp black pepper, 1½tsp mace, 1tsp cinnamon, 1½tsp cardamom, 2tsp ginger, 2tsp salt. Really, this also ought to have rose petals in there. Waitrose’s does, but it doesn’t have saffron. Use 2-4 tbsp.); 2 cloves garlic; handful chopped coriander; 10(!) tbsp sesame seeds, slightly toasted.

This mixture freezes well. Make walnut-sized balls, roll in (corn)flour and thread onto soaked bamboo skewers (these give better hold than metal skewers). Serve piled into miniature pita pockets lined with lettuce leaves and drizzled with tzaziki (full fat yoghurt with cucumber—peeled, grated and squeezed—spring onion, garlic, lemon juice and fresh mint).

They also go well with vegetable skewers: peel 2-3 mushrooms per skewer, score the caps cross-wise and marinade for an hour or so in balsamic vinegar, soy sauce, oil, fresh thyme and black pepper. Toss in a few thick, halved courgette slices and roll some cherry tomatoes in oil. Thread the lot onto skewers and throw it on the BBQ until the tomatoes are soft. Olives, stuffed jalapeños and salad make nice sides.

Naturally, there had to be an Asian influence as well. It’s always good to have some Chinese chilli oil at hand (veggies, note that this contains fermented fish or shrimp). I tried my hand at chicken satay again, after spotting some free range chicken breast at the butcher’s. This dish is better if the meat is cut into very small pieces and threaded onto thin skewers. The chilli oil was needed to liven up the saus kachang which was a bit weak (a strong Thai chilli would fix this). This is derived from my favourite Asian Street Food cookbook:

8tbsp peanut butter; 2tsp jaggery; ½tsp garlic salt; 3tbsp soy sauce; 1tsp blachan (shrimp paste); 1 finely chopped chilli; 100 ml coconut milk; 1tsp lime juice. Heat in sauce pan to combine and add water to desired consistency.

The satay chicken is marinated in a pinch each of cinnamon and tumeric; 1tsp each of ground coriander, cumin and jaggery; 1tbsp crushed salted peanuts; 6 minced spring onions; 2tbsp oil and the grated rind of 1 lime (lemon grass would be better, if any was to be had in Tadley).

The book also provided the base recipe for the enduring classic Indonesian barbecued spare ribs, although I must say that I haven’t come across anything like it in Indonesia. These ribs are usually pre-cooked in the wok or oven and finished on the BBQ, basting frequently. Since I didn’t have enough notice, I stuck the ribs directly on the BBQ. They have to be grilled for a long time over a low heat to cook through. Keep brushing on the sauce with a pastry brush:

2-3 chillies, chopped; 2 cloves garlic; 2cm ginger, sliced; small onion, grated (or 4 spring onions)—mince all this.
1 good slug kecap manis or 1tbsp jaggery; 2tbsp soy sauce; 1tsp nam pla (fish sauce); 1tsp tamarind concentrate; 1tsp tumeric; 1tbsp ketchup; 1tbsp oil.
Coat the ribs with the mix and toss them on the BBQ. There’s no need to marinade.

This was it for the year, or so experience tells me.

We’re unlikely to go abroad this summer (John hasn’t renewed his passport), but we’re off to Scotland next week. Perhaps—just perhaps—we’ll have another BBQ there, if I can dissuade the guys from landing me with 3 (!) assistants when cooking. The current rota spells chaos.

Well, we’ll see.

Phew, I’m literally just back from flood defence duty.

We got away with it, this time. The sandbags arrived just as the brook was starting to recede.

We had to bail out the backyard though, and call the plumber for emergency assist before the kitchen and lounge flooded by stealth, thanks to a blocked-up drain.

Internet is creepingly slow when it works, yesterday we had a power outage for five hours and today we have a(nother) flood alert.

Where is this place?

Bangkok?

No: Tadley, England.

I’m brushing spiders out of my hair while writing this, and the bits of bark that have fallen into my collar and lodged themselves in my bra straps are itching.

Time for a bath. Time to put on the washing machine again, because of course the workmen would wait until the day before we’re going on holiday (and an entire year before that) to call around to fix the holes in the fences on either side of the garden, which the storm tore sometime in the spring of 2007.

Meanwhile the garden has grown into a jungle, fed by the daily rains, and I have scratches on my hands from clawing vegetation away from the rickety back door (we lost our gardening paraphernalia after the flood last June).

But at least we now have new carpets! The man finished laying them last week, and since then we have only set foot downstairs with socks on.

Cue the outdoor men with their muddy boots.

Anyway, tomorrow we shall be away and I couldn’t care less about what is going on in Tadley or with the house. But until then it seems that a thousand little things need my attention.

I finally have a printout of my 1/3rd revised novel, and I was going to spend some time on plot development while on holiday, but since last week at least two other novel excerpts have landed in my inbox, demanding critiquing for the writers’ group workshop that happens while we’re away. Grrr. I think we should have a word limit for workshops.

Reading doc files on screen makes my eyes bleed, not to mention doing it on the little EeePC—so that’ll be more printouts to lug along.

Further to our travels: in the joyful anticipation of experiencing Greek Orthodox Easter in Crete I have forgotten about the six weeks of Lent that precede it. If memories from boarding school are anything to go by, meat, cheese and other delicacies are off the menu during that time—except that Greek Orthodox Lent is a good deal stricter than the Catholic version.

I may have to revise our taverna plans during the first ten days of our holiday—in fact I may well have to sneak foodstuff into our self catering kitchen—whereas during the final Easter Weekend I expect those establishments to remain closed.

Oh well, there’s always Macca’s.