Saturday, November 24, 2007

Lidl, Morrisons, Soup and Strictly.

Still improving steadily and was pleased to be able to go shopping. So we did Lidl first then Morrisons. We kept seeing camera club people. AnonymousReg and I had spoken on the phone earlier and predicted meeting in Morrisons, which we did. Everywhere was very busy but we are not used to Saturday mornings.

Y cooked some 'bakes' and chips and peas for lunch which made a good accompaniment to a programme about Volcanoes which Y had recorded. It was quite good actually and first of several about The Power of the Planet. As you know we always enjoy a lecture with pictures.

After an afternoon nap I decided to cook some soup, to accompany Strictly come Dancing and selected this 'Leek, Parsnip and Ginger' recipe from my National Trust soup book. Very different ! But successful. Fresh root ginger in soups is perhaps an unusual concept but it works. The recipe also required dry white wine, which we didn't have. So following Delia's dictum I used this Mateus Rosé which we did have and that also worked beautifully. It was earmarked for going in a raffle anyway so we shall have to contribute something else. Do you remember in the 50s when we thought we were so sophisticated ordering Mateus Rosé ? Or Blue Nun ? Oh dear, those were the days.

Also, the recipe called for vegetable stock. But I prefer the Marigold - 'Bouillon' - again I suspect due to Delia. It's great that she is coming out of retirement in the New Year. What fun ! One of the young lady journalists who write in the centre pages of the Telegraph admitted she had become a Delia devotee because her recipes always work. She said she was fed up with cooking some complicated dinner-party main course from Jamie or whoever, which she finished up 'binning' and then sending out for a pizza.

After I had taken this snap, the OldAgeGremlins tried to persuade me to put the top of the bouillon-carton on my camera instead of the Nikon lens-cap. Thank goodness it didn't quite fit ! It was close though.

Comments......Of course you are all right about the Rocking Horse Man being David. Only explanation I can think of (and it is a bit limp) as some of you know I have sons John and David and I was sure his name was the same as one of them. Picked the wrong one is all !

And re: you footie-fans. As blog-meister I have no objection at all to you all using these columns to discuss footie. It is a close thing but we must at some stage, have discussed something even more trivial - so please go ahead. Y is quite interested in the idea and says she might actually join in !!

How interrsting Bungus about 'Suicide is Painless'. He deserved to make a lot of money from it. Great theme song - Great series !

By the way. Whilst reading the Horace wiki-page yesterday I discovered that we have Horace to thank for 'carpe diem' (seize the day) and 'aurea mediocritas' (the golden mean) - I went through all those Art History days and nobody ever told me that. I was told endlessly about its use, how to construct it etc., but nobody credited Horace with coining the phrase. How he would turn in his columbarium to hear camera-club judges rabitting on about 'the rule of thirds'.

Quote of the Day........ I rather like this :-

"Whenever I dwell for any length of time on my own shortcomings, they gradually begin to seem mild, harmless, rather engaging little things, not at all like the staring defects in other people's characters"



Rather a dearth of info. on Margaret Halsey I'm afraid. No Wiki-page ! Whatever next?

Strictly come Dancing was good. I voted for Letitia who was excellent - Y voted for Gethin. John Barnes is probably the weakest now we are in the eighth week, and perhaps he is the one that should go. Alesha was first rate and so was Matt. At last Kelly got the smile wiped off her face, and could be in trouble. Kenny did surprisingly well and deserves to stay in. Tomorrow night all will be revealed.

Sleep tight and I'll catch you tomorrow.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

If you were drinking Mateus Rose in the 50s I think you were ahead of your time! I hardly recall drinking wine at all until I discovered Ruber Afer at 1/9 a bottle in Tripoli in 1957! (I once nearly choked in my sleep having consumed 3 bottles for fear of scorpions while sleeping out in the desert - only a kindly 2 Lt turning me into the recovery position saved me).
Princess Margaret Rose (who was a year older than me) popularised Mateus, I would say in the 60s, and it retained its market leader status (joined by Blue Nun and other Hocks and Reislings) throughout the 70s (when we were running the pub).

We too are Marigold fans - far less salty thatn stock cubes and, of course, vegetarian. But do not be tempted into using the gloves as a substitute.
Delia's recipes certainly are reliable (for English dishes), certainly when compared with Nigel Slater.

The 'Suicide is Painless' lyrics are incredibly sophisticated for a 14 year old.

I have a tiny volume of (translated) Horace verses. I'm sure I shall be able to find some chuckleworthy quotes. In common with many other writers, ancient and modern, he seemed to find sexual matters very amusing.

Forget 'Come Dancing'. 17 year old Rhydian on the 'The X Factor' is an amazing talent!

Anonymous said...

I cannot resist quoting in full the following extract googled from 'Bint' Magazine

DRINK THE PINK
On the sauce: Mateus rose
by Miss Tipple uploaded: 26-07-2004
Since the beginning of time, masculinity has been most clearly depicted through the symbol of the lingam, a tall, erect pillar. The lingam shape can be seen in many everyday objects: street bollards, for instance, and more importantly, wine bottles, while its female counterpart, the yoni, gently, discreetly, roundly, and quietly radiates a calming feminine influence through the circle - the shape of a bottle of Mateus rose wine.

"In happier times, Mateus Rose hit the spot, charming everyone who tasted it. It did the season, appeared at dinner parties and weddings and picnics and garden parties"
Condemned to the bottom of the wine list, province of teenage girls’ first alcoholic chunders and fuel for the tedious old great aunt you are willing to die, Mateus Rose now lies neglected at the back of Oddbins, its blushing shoulders clouded with a layer of dust. Its crime? Mateus Rose goes with everything. Neither dry nor sweet, red nor white, heavy nor light, fizzy or flat (it’s petillant, that weird level of bubbliness you only otherwise find in "off" orange juice), it can be drunk alone, with savoury dishes or alongside a pudding.

In the days when graduates came from single-barrelled universities and no-one had a 'masters', before people specialised themselves into a corner and categorised everything and went into analysis and feng-shuied their houses and moved things about and constantly switched jobs and partners and countries and hair colours, being adaptable and ordinary and having mass appeal was good. In those happy, jack-of-all-trades-times, Mateus Rose hit the spot, charming everyone who tasted it. It did the season, appeared at dinner parties and weddings and picnics and garden parties. Everybody liked it, and if anyone thought it might be a bit dicey drinking pink wine, they could blame it on the Portugeezers. It’s foreign, innit. They do things a bit different over there. But Mateus Rose tastes a damn sight nicer than dried fish. Perfect exotica: looks racy, tastes staid.

But nowadays wine is expected to whack you around the head with flavour: slimy Chardonnays coating your tongue with oil, highly scented Sauvignon Blancs which taste like licking an Avon lady. Great when you want to show off at a party identifying grape varieties, but not always that delicious. So the pink petillant has faded into obscurity, ousted by "big" whites and tannic reds.

The mass appeal of Mateus Rose in the seventies (sic) was not only because it was rather chic and exotic, but also because it tasted very nice. And it still does: medium, not huge in flavour but enough to stand up to a prawn or two, and not so full-on that if you got outside a bottle on a sunny afternoon your mouth will feel like a peed-on blackberry bush.

Wine doesn’t have to be "individual" to be great to drink, try a cold glass of Mateus Rose in a pub garden on a Saturday afternoon, take a bottle to a river bank and drink with a ripe brie and crusty bread, serve a glass with a slice of quivering lemon tart after supper. It really does work with everything. Ok, so a warm bucketful of pink fizz with an aortic-red side of beef might be a bit gopping, but why not try it out? And if you don’t like the wine? The empty bottle makes a lovely candlestick (the yoni receives the lingam, making the union of man and woman complete).