There's one song I want played when I die. I want my coffin to burn to this song. It's "Unfinished Sympathy" by Massive Attack. I love this song so much. I remember first hearing this song when I was a kid and not understanding it, not recognising the sheer beauty of the work involved and it was only years later that I realised that people still played this song at parties and in pubs and clubs and bars and no one questioned the validity of the song. It's timeless. It's one of those strangely timeless, ageless works of music that defy logic and explanation as to why they're so revered. Everything about it - the strings, the electronic beats, the searingly beautiful vocals - is perfection. I don't care if the song has an Elgar sample - the fact that someone sampled Elgar and made it work so beautifully on a totally different level and with a totally different theme is incredible. I don't care if they used a Paul Simon song for the percussion. It works. It sears. It tears through all the crap and it punches you in the face. And it'll be around long after I'm dead.
It is, literally, a work of modern art. And it's unsurpassed. No one has ever covered it and done it justice. No one will.
Saturday 31 January 2009
Thursday 22 January 2009
Wolffe
For the past couple of days, I've been playing Host. For the past couple of days, I've been playing host to...well I don't know how to describe him. Big Bad is the phrase I often use to describe this guy, but he's not bad, far from it. He's bad for your reputation, but he's not bad in the strictest sense of the word. I'd forgotten how deep his voice is, how wickedly funny his laugh is. I mean, shit, seven years since we last saw each other and it was almost as if I never left. Christ.
I hate the fact that he's got someone waiting back home for him. I hate the fact that he's heading home at the end of the month and I hate the fact that I can't go with him because I would. In a heartbeat. And yes, I know he's got someone, but lying side-by-side on my bed after I whipped his arse at Monopoly...my god. I wanted to lose myself in him. I wanted to just tell him "Just do whatever you want because I'm not going to fight you this time." He still wears the same fucking aftershave, fuck me. He's older, I'm older, I'm more responsible, he's grown up a little. But he's still my Wolffe, he's still the guy I fell head over heels for and my God, listening to him laughing at the television...I dunno. Watching him move...dear god, he doesn't walk, he prowls. He's feline. He's everything I could possibly want in someone, he's everything and I hate, oh how I hate the guy who is waiting for him back in Auckland. I've never met you, but I hate you. I often say jealousy is like guilt, a petty waste of emotion but my God, I can't stop feeling anger towards this guy for being with the only guy I still smile about when I think of him.
He says that he's planning on leaving New Zealand mid-year to head up to Britain again. Apparently the work situation there is pretty dire. God, I hope he does and I hope he leaves the new guy at home. I didn't realise what I missed about him until I realised this evening that the food I was making - the same stuff I love making - was stuff he had shown me how to make. Sweet potato soup. Lamingtons. Christ, two things I just make because I *like* them and I had forgotten it was him who had shown me how to make them. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck and yes, I'd love it if he would. It's everything. Seeing him come out of the shower this morning and towelling himself off. I mean, christ, he's certainly been working out and I just wanted to run in there and just run off with that towel. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
Ah well. I need to win the lottery sometime soon!
I hate the fact that he's got someone waiting back home for him. I hate the fact that he's heading home at the end of the month and I hate the fact that I can't go with him because I would. In a heartbeat. And yes, I know he's got someone, but lying side-by-side on my bed after I whipped his arse at Monopoly...my god. I wanted to lose myself in him. I wanted to just tell him "Just do whatever you want because I'm not going to fight you this time." He still wears the same fucking aftershave, fuck me. He's older, I'm older, I'm more responsible, he's grown up a little. But he's still my Wolffe, he's still the guy I fell head over heels for and my God, listening to him laughing at the television...I dunno. Watching him move...dear god, he doesn't walk, he prowls. He's feline. He's everything I could possibly want in someone, he's everything and I hate, oh how I hate the guy who is waiting for him back in Auckland. I've never met you, but I hate you. I often say jealousy is like guilt, a petty waste of emotion but my God, I can't stop feeling anger towards this guy for being with the only guy I still smile about when I think of him.
He says that he's planning on leaving New Zealand mid-year to head up to Britain again. Apparently the work situation there is pretty dire. God, I hope he does and I hope he leaves the new guy at home. I didn't realise what I missed about him until I realised this evening that the food I was making - the same stuff I love making - was stuff he had shown me how to make. Sweet potato soup. Lamingtons. Christ, two things I just make because I *like* them and I had forgotten it was him who had shown me how to make them. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck and yes, I'd love it if he would. It's everything. Seeing him come out of the shower this morning and towelling himself off. I mean, christ, he's certainly been working out and I just wanted to run in there and just run off with that towel. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
Ah well. I need to win the lottery sometime soon!
Monday 12 January 2009
Fuck off and die.
If there's one thing I hate, it's being ill. I noticed on Saturday evening that my head felt...warm? Fuzzy?...and then on Sunday I woke up and felt like someone had punched me through the back of the skull and had massaged my brain to goo. This morning? I feel loathsome. I managed to get up, get into the shower and then my legs just felt like they were going to give way. I *hate* being unwell. I feel so damned guilty phoning in sick, I feel so damned pathetic.
Well, nothing else for it. I'm currently tucked up in bed, laptop on lap (thank God for wi-fi) and I'm contemplating having some soup for lunch. I fucking hate this country and I hate the illnesses that sweep up around winter. Die off, the lot of you!
I demand sympathy!
Well, nothing else for it. I'm currently tucked up in bed, laptop on lap (thank God for wi-fi) and I'm contemplating having some soup for lunch. I fucking hate this country and I hate the illnesses that sweep up around winter. Die off, the lot of you!
I demand sympathy!
Sunday 11 January 2009
Laksa Lemak
Okay. This is a soup recipe from Malaysia and it's divine. It's spicy, so watch yourself Maureen!
To make...
You'll need...
675g of small clams
800ml of coconut milk
50g of ikan bilis (dried anchovies)
900ml of water
115g of finely chopped shallots
4 garlic cloves, chopped
6 macadamia nuts or blanched almonds, chopped - go for the almonds if you're concerned about the fat content of the macadamias...
3 lemongrass stalks, roots trimmed
90ml of sunflower oil
1cm cube of shrimp paste
25g of mild curry powder
Couple of curry leaves
2-3 aubergines, trimmed. If you want an exact measurement, the recipe calls for 675g.
675g of peeled prawns
10ml of sugar
1 head of Chinese leaves, thinly sliced
115g of beansprouts, washed
2 spring onions, chopped
50g of crispy fried onions
115g of firm tofu
675g of mixed noodles, failing that, udon.
Prawn crackers to serve!
To make it, you need to...
1. Scrub your clams (ooh err!) and then put into a large pan with at least a centimetre of water. Bring to the boil, cover and then steam your clams for three to four minutes until the clams have opened. Drain and discard unopened clams. Make the coconut milk up to 1.2 litres with water. Put the anchovies in a pan and add the measured amount of water. Bring to the boil and simmer for twenty minutes.
2. Meanwhile, put the shallots, garlic and nuts into a mortar (or a grinder/food processor), cut off the lower five centimetres of the lemongrass, chop finely and add to the mortar (or grinder/processor). Pound it, baby, to paste.
3. Heat the oil in a large heavy pan, add the shallot paste and fry until the mixture is aromatic. Bruise the remaining lemongrass and add to the pan. Toss over the heat to release the flavour from the lemongrass. Mix the shrimp paste with the curry powder to a paste with some of the coconut milk, add to the pan and toss the mixture over heat for a minute, stiring constantly and keeping the heat low. Add the curry leaves and the remaining coconut milk.
4. Strain the stock into a pan and discard the anchovies. Bring to the boil and add your aubergines. Cook for ten minutes or until tender and the skins come off easily. Lift out of the stock, peel and cut into thick strips.
5. Arrange the aubergines on a serving platter. Sprinkle the prawns with sugar, add to the stock and cook for 2-4 minutes until they turn pink. Remove and arrange next to your aubergines. Add the Chinese leaves, the beansprouts, spring onions and crispy onions to the platter along with the clams.
6. Gradually stir the remaining anchovy stock into the pan of soup and bring to the boil. Rinse the tofu in boiling water, cool slightly and squeeze to remove excess oil. Cut each piece in half and add to the soup. Lower the heat to a gentle simmer.
7. Cook your noodles according to the packet instructions, drain and pile into a dish. Remove the curry leaves and lemongrass from the soup. Place the noodles, soup and platter of seafood and vegetables on the table with the prawn crackers and allow your guests to help themselves!
The recipe does state you can substitute the clams for mussels if you can't get your paws on clams. And remember - discard ALL clams/mussels that do not open in the cooking process!
To make...
You'll need...
675g of small clams
800ml of coconut milk
50g of ikan bilis (dried anchovies)
900ml of water
115g of finely chopped shallots
4 garlic cloves, chopped
6 macadamia nuts or blanched almonds, chopped - go for the almonds if you're concerned about the fat content of the macadamias...
3 lemongrass stalks, roots trimmed
90ml of sunflower oil
1cm cube of shrimp paste
25g of mild curry powder
Couple of curry leaves
2-3 aubergines, trimmed. If you want an exact measurement, the recipe calls for 675g.
675g of peeled prawns
10ml of sugar
1 head of Chinese leaves, thinly sliced
115g of beansprouts, washed
2 spring onions, chopped
50g of crispy fried onions
115g of firm tofu
675g of mixed noodles, failing that, udon.
Prawn crackers to serve!
To make it, you need to...
1. Scrub your clams (ooh err!) and then put into a large pan with at least a centimetre of water. Bring to the boil, cover and then steam your clams for three to four minutes until the clams have opened. Drain and discard unopened clams. Make the coconut milk up to 1.2 litres with water. Put the anchovies in a pan and add the measured amount of water. Bring to the boil and simmer for twenty minutes.
2. Meanwhile, put the shallots, garlic and nuts into a mortar (or a grinder/food processor), cut off the lower five centimetres of the lemongrass, chop finely and add to the mortar (or grinder/processor). Pound it, baby, to paste.
3. Heat the oil in a large heavy pan, add the shallot paste and fry until the mixture is aromatic. Bruise the remaining lemongrass and add to the pan. Toss over the heat to release the flavour from the lemongrass. Mix the shrimp paste with the curry powder to a paste with some of the coconut milk, add to the pan and toss the mixture over heat for a minute, stiring constantly and keeping the heat low. Add the curry leaves and the remaining coconut milk.
4. Strain the stock into a pan and discard the anchovies. Bring to the boil and add your aubergines. Cook for ten minutes or until tender and the skins come off easily. Lift out of the stock, peel and cut into thick strips.
5. Arrange the aubergines on a serving platter. Sprinkle the prawns with sugar, add to the stock and cook for 2-4 minutes until they turn pink. Remove and arrange next to your aubergines. Add the Chinese leaves, the beansprouts, spring onions and crispy onions to the platter along with the clams.
6. Gradually stir the remaining anchovy stock into the pan of soup and bring to the boil. Rinse the tofu in boiling water, cool slightly and squeeze to remove excess oil. Cut each piece in half and add to the soup. Lower the heat to a gentle simmer.
7. Cook your noodles according to the packet instructions, drain and pile into a dish. Remove the curry leaves and lemongrass from the soup. Place the noodles, soup and platter of seafood and vegetables on the table with the prawn crackers and allow your guests to help themselves!
The recipe does state you can substitute the clams for mussels if you can't get your paws on clams. And remember - discard ALL clams/mussels that do not open in the cooking process!
Sunday
The bread turned out pretty damned good, if I don't mind saying so myself. I think the next time I make it, I'm going to actually roll the dough out and cut into chunks rather than pull what I thought were handfuls of dough off each time. Either I misjudged, or I have magically shrinking and expanding hands. Hmm.
Good god, it's Monday tomorrow. Last week in work until I go on holiday and quite frankly, I'm not exactly thrilled about this last week because, hey, I just want to go on holiday, lie in bed, watch telly and that's that. That's the thrilling extent of my life, my darlings, I go to work and I come home and I go to bed. Hardly surprising, really, given that I get paid a shit wage and I work shit hours. Seriously, shitty hours. Ah well.
But, hey, at least I get a long-lie tomorrow morning. In for half eleven, back out for nine. Shiiit.
Good god, it's Monday tomorrow. Last week in work until I go on holiday and quite frankly, I'm not exactly thrilled about this last week because, hey, I just want to go on holiday, lie in bed, watch telly and that's that. That's the thrilling extent of my life, my darlings, I go to work and I come home and I go to bed. Hardly surprising, really, given that I get paid a shit wage and I work shit hours. Seriously, shitty hours. Ah well.
But, hey, at least I get a long-lie tomorrow morning. In for half eleven, back out for nine. Shiiit.
Bread
I decided a few months ago that I would start cutting back on my reliance to the supermarkets to provide everything for me, you know, cakes, biscuits, that sort of thing. It's relatively easy to make scones and biscuits but the thing that I wanted to give a try and I've not had much chance so far to do so is bread. Proper, honest, good home-made bread. And I was amazed as to how many recipes there are for bread! Do I want brown, white, wholemeal, rye, pitta, foccacia...the choice is amazing and to me it gives an indication as to how many hundreds of civilisations have relied upon bread in some way or another. Except, it seems, the Far East. Apparently it's more a sign of wealth and stability to have a full bowl of rice than a loaf of bread and you know what, I kind of agree. I feel sort of wrong when I look in the cupboard and realise there's hardly any rice left.
But anyway, I digress. I looked up my Mother's ancient recipe book today and consulted it for a good, solid, honest bread recipe and I think I found it - wholemeal rolls. I don't have a loaf tin, therefore the chances of my making a loaf of brown bread are kinda slim. Heh. But I found a recipe, I measured out all the ingredients and all that jazz and I proceeded to make my bread. And it's like a video on Youtube says - it's not baking, it's not manufacturing, it's magic. What goes on in that bowl when you mix the ingredients together isn't baking, it's alchemy. You take a tablespoon of yeast and you essentially bring it to life when you add warm water. You knead the dough and you activate the magical elements inside it. You stretch and you pull that dough and it becomes something else, something wonderful. And it's therapeutic, it's relaxing, it's a damned good way of beating out those frustrations. Push the heel of your hands into the dough, pull the dough back with your fingers. Push the dough forward, pull it back and feel the texture begin to change subtlely underneath. And it feels magical. Right now, it's in the bowl again, covered in a warm cloth to let it rise. Apparently I've got to give it half an hour. I've just peeked in on it and it's not doing much. Hey ho.
But anyway, I digress. I looked up my Mother's ancient recipe book today and consulted it for a good, solid, honest bread recipe and I think I found it - wholemeal rolls. I don't have a loaf tin, therefore the chances of my making a loaf of brown bread are kinda slim. Heh. But I found a recipe, I measured out all the ingredients and all that jazz and I proceeded to make my bread. And it's like a video on Youtube says - it's not baking, it's not manufacturing, it's magic. What goes on in that bowl when you mix the ingredients together isn't baking, it's alchemy. You take a tablespoon of yeast and you essentially bring it to life when you add warm water. You knead the dough and you activate the magical elements inside it. You stretch and you pull that dough and it becomes something else, something wonderful. And it's therapeutic, it's relaxing, it's a damned good way of beating out those frustrations. Push the heel of your hands into the dough, pull the dough back with your fingers. Push the dough forward, pull it back and feel the texture begin to change subtlely underneath. And it feels magical. Right now, it's in the bowl again, covered in a warm cloth to let it rise. Apparently I've got to give it half an hour. I've just peeked in on it and it's not doing much. Hey ho.
Saturday 10 January 2009
The Jade Goody Rant
Okay, I don't know about the rest of you, but Jade Goody gets on my tits.
She really does.
Jade Goody is one of those people who I hate with a vengeance - the ones who have very little to offer society and yet through a quirk of fate she's somehow catapulted to the top and receives fame and fortune for being...nothing. She got her big break on Big Brother - hardly a worthy candidate for intelligent programming at the best of times - and for a while after that she was that annoying buzzing sound you get with mosquitoes and I ignored it because, well, she's Jade Goody and I have little time for her. And then the Shilpa Shetty thing happened.
I'm not going to lie - I watched it when I saw it in the papers. I was amazed at how swiftly the news went from tabloid to broadsheet. I was stunned, literally, to see how quickly papers like The Independent and The Times and even the hated Grauniad picked up this story about the daft idiot from Big Brother a few years before and how she had single-handedly caused a race row on television. And what made it even more stunning was that throughout the whole thing, Jade Goody made herself out to be some sort of victim. She came out and said to Davina McCall that she had no idea she was so obnoxious and for a while it seemed that Jade Goody and her supporters treated it all as some sort of joke. It really amazed me as to how she was vilified, how swift her fall from grace was. In what I can only say was a single fortnight, Jade Goody went from a media darling to media horror. It was incredible to watch. And to be honest, I had very little sympathy for her then - I sent a complaint email to Channel 4 after watching the incident - and to this day, I still have no time for her.
What I find curious is that in the months following the Shetty incident, Jade has been busy trying to build public image and now, thanks to her recent "revelation" that she's been diagnosed with cervical cancer, public sympathy. I'm sorry, but I can't find sympathy for her. Yes, it's horrid that she's got small children who may end up growing up without their mother and it's horrible that she's facing a long fight against a vicious disease - but I just cannot bring myself to show any form of sympathy for her. And to read in the papers and see it online that she's got problems now because she's losing her hair to chemotherapy? Sweetheart, what do you want me to say? What do you want us to think? Thousands of women go through chemotherapy each day worldwide and every year thousands of women die from cancer in all it's variants. Do you think you're special? My Mother had a lump pulled from her breast when I was fourteen and she faced the possibility of it being cancer with the cliched steely determination and for her, chemotherapy wasn't as frightening a prospect as dying. Maybe you want to get that into your skull, dear - you can die from cancer. You won't die because you lose your hair.
*sighs*
Seriously though, I can't think as to what makes me so unsympathetic towards her. Maybe it's the fact I've never found her entertaining or that I think she's a coarse, crude little madam who racially abused someone on television (yes, I know that cretin from S Club and that little tart who whips her chesticles out for cash were involved, but Jade was the ringleader), but there's something about Jade Goody that I find inherently...vile. Christ, maybe it's because I have this old-fashioned idea that celebrity means you should have done something worthwhile to gain that status. What did she do? She appeared on a reality television show and that's that.
Yeah.
She really does.
Jade Goody is one of those people who I hate with a vengeance - the ones who have very little to offer society and yet through a quirk of fate she's somehow catapulted to the top and receives fame and fortune for being...nothing. She got her big break on Big Brother - hardly a worthy candidate for intelligent programming at the best of times - and for a while after that she was that annoying buzzing sound you get with mosquitoes and I ignored it because, well, she's Jade Goody and I have little time for her. And then the Shilpa Shetty thing happened.
I'm not going to lie - I watched it when I saw it in the papers. I was amazed at how swiftly the news went from tabloid to broadsheet. I was stunned, literally, to see how quickly papers like The Independent and The Times and even the hated Grauniad picked up this story about the daft idiot from Big Brother a few years before and how she had single-handedly caused a race row on television. And what made it even more stunning was that throughout the whole thing, Jade Goody made herself out to be some sort of victim. She came out and said to Davina McCall that she had no idea she was so obnoxious and for a while it seemed that Jade Goody and her supporters treated it all as some sort of joke. It really amazed me as to how she was vilified, how swift her fall from grace was. In what I can only say was a single fortnight, Jade Goody went from a media darling to media horror. It was incredible to watch. And to be honest, I had very little sympathy for her then - I sent a complaint email to Channel 4 after watching the incident - and to this day, I still have no time for her.
What I find curious is that in the months following the Shetty incident, Jade has been busy trying to build public image and now, thanks to her recent "revelation" that she's been diagnosed with cervical cancer, public sympathy. I'm sorry, but I can't find sympathy for her. Yes, it's horrid that she's got small children who may end up growing up without their mother and it's horrible that she's facing a long fight against a vicious disease - but I just cannot bring myself to show any form of sympathy for her. And to read in the papers and see it online that she's got problems now because she's losing her hair to chemotherapy? Sweetheart, what do you want me to say? What do you want us to think? Thousands of women go through chemotherapy each day worldwide and every year thousands of women die from cancer in all it's variants. Do you think you're special? My Mother had a lump pulled from her breast when I was fourteen and she faced the possibility of it being cancer with the cliched steely determination and for her, chemotherapy wasn't as frightening a prospect as dying. Maybe you want to get that into your skull, dear - you can die from cancer. You won't die because you lose your hair.
*sighs*
Seriously though, I can't think as to what makes me so unsympathetic towards her. Maybe it's the fact I've never found her entertaining or that I think she's a coarse, crude little madam who racially abused someone on television (yes, I know that cretin from S Club and that little tart who whips her chesticles out for cash were involved, but Jade was the ringleader), but there's something about Jade Goody that I find inherently...vile. Christ, maybe it's because I have this old-fashioned idea that celebrity means you should have done something worthwhile to gain that status. What did she do? She appeared on a reality television show and that's that.
Yeah.
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