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Culinary Revelations

Aug 01 2014

Last Wednesday – Pret a Manger. Underneath the adjacent table was a small, inquisitive King Charles Spaniel, attached to a lead. A floral-frocked lady was clasping the end of the lead in one hand whilst nibbling on what appeared to be a Teriyaki salmon salad. She was informing her companion of the perils of gluten, a conversation that I seem to be hearing increasingly regularly these days. However, I was somewhat surprised when she announced that her dog Kuby was now gluten-free.

I couldn’t resist putting this to the test by surreptitiously throwing pieces of bread from my Swedish meatball wrap in Kuby’s direction. Kuby devoured them greedily. A third glutinous threat was mid-air when the lady turning abruptly towards me, demanded to know what I was giving her dog. I wanted to reply that it was merely an organic, gluten-free slice of butternut or an environmentally friendly Edamame Bean, but as there was nothing vaguely resembling anything of that ilk on my table, I was left with no alternative than to merely smile and shrug. I left soon after.

It was a hot, sunny day, so I decided to take a short walk in the local park. There hadn’t been any rain for several days and the place was beginning to resemble the Kalahari. I was sitting on one of the park’s benches when I noticed an animated group of what appeared to be students, on the grass in front of me. Intrigued, I headed over to them. A Mars Ice Cream bar eating contest was taking place. The two competitors were sitting on the grass – one a bulky, sullen looking, male Goth with a nose ring and purple painted nails, the other a very thin T-shirted student type wearing spectacles. Several Goth females and two non-Goth males served as spectators. Cheering commenced as each round of Mars Ice Cream (260 calories each) was devoured. I was informed the loser had to pay for the ice cream, which was going to mean a pretty big bill, as they were already on round eight. From the greenish hue of the Goth it was apparent that he wasn’t going to last much longer. I would have liked to stay for the finale, but I had to go to the bank.

On my way out of the park I considered that this Goth vs. Geek competition could continue with races, relays and obstacle courses. It would probably be more entertaining than the ongoing Commonwealth Games in Glasgow.

All through the meeting at the bank I was thinking about Mars Ice Cream. After leaving the bank I met a friend, who unannounced introduced me to my third culinary surprise of the day, a YouTube video of the annual Cambodian rat harvest, which quelled the desire for any Mars Ice Cream.

The Commonwealth Games

Jul 25 2014

Wednesday Evening – I am idly flicking through the television channels when I stumble across the Commonwealth Games Opening Ceremony. If there is a less enthralling sporting event on this planet than the Commonwealth Games, I am yet to hear of it.

However, I found the opening ceremony to be quite entertaining. The display included many things considered synonymous with Scotland, and/or the great city of Glasgow. These included inflatable Loch Ness Monsters, giant Tunnocks Tea Cakes, a huge haggis, golf clubs, Scottish terriers leading out the forty-one participating national teams, and even an Irn-Bru Forth Bridge. Anyone hoping to catch a glimpse of a gargantuan fried Mars Bar, people drinking alcohol out of brown paper bags, or an enormous syringe were no doubt left disappointed. The mascot for the 20th edition of the Games is Clyde (see below – he is named after a thistle that grows on the bank of the Clyde river).

Rod Stewart sang, as did that woman from X-Factor I was hoping I’d seen the last of. We got to see the head of The Commonwealth, the Queen, and a glimpse of the star attraction, Usain Bolt, one of the few global athletic stars that isn’t either ineligible for the Games, or hasn’t succeeded in getting a sick note from their doctor in time.

Controversy was provided in the form of Dr Who actor John Barrowman kissing a man, before dragging him to the altar for a mock wedding. This new version of the Glasgow kiss was presumably not appreciated in the forty-two of the fifty-three Commonwealth countries where homosexuality is illegal. No doubt John Barrowman, who recently wed his male partner, isn’t planning to honeymoon in Nigeria or Uganda, where an anti-homosexuality act was passed earlier this year. Whether Barrowman’s actions are viewed as a defiant stance against homophobia, or symbolic of a prurient nation, is a matter of individual opinion. Quite what the Queen made of it all we can only guess.

That’s it for today. I’ve got to rush off or I’m going to miss The Solomon Islands efforts in the Lawn Bowl.

Alcoholic Authors V

Jul 18 2014

No doubt like countless others across the land I have been nursing a World Cup hangover this week. Struggling for inspiration for a blog post I have decided to the take the opportunity to return to my Alcoholic Authors series. Here is Part V:

F. Scott Fitzgerald

(September 24th 1896 – December 21st 1940)

Notable works: This Side of Paradise, The Great Gatsby, Tender Is the Night.

F. Scott Fitzgerald was an American author of novels and short stories, who is widely accepted as being one of the greatest writers of the 20th Century. An inspiration for a future generation of writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald is best remembered for his seminal work, The Great Gatsby. Adapted for the silver screen on five occasions, The Great Gatsby has sold millions of copies and is required reading in many schools and colleges.

Alcohol and alcoholics hold a prominent place in much of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing, which is perhaps not surprising considering the author was an alcoholic from college days to his death. A notorious exhibitionist who was prone to theatrical displays when under the influence, the iconic author was unwilling to quit his habit and even argued that drinking aided his writing efforts

At the age of forty-four F. Scott Fitzgerald died from an alcohol related heart attack.

John Cheever

(May 27th 1912 – June 18th 1982)

Notable works: The Enormous Radio, Goodbye, My Brother, The Swimmer.

Sometimes referred to as ‘the Chekhov of the suburbs’, John Cheever is recognized as one of the most important short story writers of the 20th Century. He also wrote four novels. A compilation of his short stories, The Stories of John Cleever, won the 1979 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.In 1982 six weeks prior to his death Cheever was awarded the National Medal for Literature by the Academy of Arts and Letters.

At the height of his literary career Cheever began a twenty-year struggle with alcoholism. The writer’s outward appearance was at odds with his inner condition, and his drinking was presumably a means to cope with his sexual guilt (he was a closet bisexual) and a deep sense of self-loathing. The author did not admit to having a problem with alcohol until he was sent to a rehabilitation center in 1972, the same year that he suffered a massive heart attack. Cheever successfully quit drinking and lived to the relatively old age of seventy.

Click here to read Alcoholic Authors IV

Fajitas, Fascists and The Future

Jul 11 2014

London – Thursday – I get on the bus and take £2.40 out of my pocket for the fare. The driver informs me London buses are now cash free.

‘So you’re a comedian now,’ reply I, attempting to hand over the money as I do so.

He shakes his head glumly and says, ‘No cash’.

A number of the other passengers nod in agreement. I ask, ‘Why?’

The driver tells me 99% of passengers find it more convenient to pay with Oyster cards (travel cards). My Oyster card is at home.

‘And the other 1%?’ I enquire.

My question is met with shrugging, gesturing, perplexity. I find myself back on the pavement, where I proceed to complain vehemently to any people waiting for a bus who care to listen. A teenaged girl says I can use her spare Oyster card for a fee, which is slightly in excess of what the journey actually costs, but needs must.

On the upper deck of the bus I find myself in a reflective mood, contemplating what it will be like living in a cash-free Britain. It is only a matter of time. In my mind’s eye I see myself aged about a hundred remembering the nostalgic days of my relative youth when money was still used. No doubt I will be met with shrugging perplexity when I tell youngsters about those distant memories.

So deep in thought was I that I missed my stop and was forced to hurry back on foot so as not to be late to meet a friend. We went to a Mexican restaurant, where I ordered chicken fajitas, and my dining companion a seafood enchilada, or was it a burrito, or perhaps a fajita – I forget. There was a group of very friendly Japanese lawyers on an adjoining table, who communicated with us in broken English. There was also a table containing amiable, smiling Spanish tourists, who were also keen to converse. I couldn’t remember London ever seeming so friendly and welcoming. Then I looked up and saw this group (see below). Note the individual with his back to the camera wearing a West Coast Choppers biker t-shirt bearing Nazi insignia (Eagle and Iron Cross).

I was so astounded that I took a photograph of the group, much to the chagrin of the baseball cap wearing one (facing camera). Several of them stormed over to our table and made various threats to our wellbeing, instantaneously destroying the restaurant’s friendly ambience. It was evident from the not particularly threatening nature of their threats that they weren’t genuine West Coast Choppers, but rather English wannabe bikers, which was most fortunate, as otherwise I suspect I would have lived to regret my actions.

Lake Como

Jul 04 2014

Last week I went on holiday to Lake Como in Italy.

After being led on a wild goose chase by my rental car’s GPS system I finally arrived at my destination.

I found the lake to be a tranquil and serene place.

Having checked into my hotel I headed out into town, where I found a bar at the top of a long flight of steps. This is a picture of your esteemed author posing with umbrella half way up the steps.

The bar’s cavernous interior boasted a dizzying selection of vino. There were a lot of customers in the bar and I had difficultly getting the bar staffs attention. I concluded that I needed to utilise some hand gestures, as I know Italians love those, though they didn’t seem to appreciate the ones I used.

Finally I was successful in obtaining a selection of apéritifs.

The below picture was taken on the way out of the bar not in a subterranean police cell.

Ferries are the preferred mode of transport for visiting the lake’s numerous villages and towns.

My first port of call was the picturesque town of Varenna, where you’ll always find a tourist getting in the way of your photo.

Below is Varenna church. At least I am pretty sure it is Varenna church. I saw so many churches that there is small chance that I might be wrong.

Midmorning I stopped for a Peroni, followed shortly thereafter by a chocolate and pistachio gelato.

This is one of the many beautiful houses that surround the lake.

I always seek out the less salubrious side of everywhere I go. In the suburbs of Como I came across this derelict hotel with a view of the main road.

Another day another meat and cheese antipasto.

I would highly recommend Lake Como to anyone who does not suffer from aquaphobia.

Bizarre Author Deaths IX

Jun 27 2014

I have stated on several occasions that there would be no further instalments to the Bizarre Author Deaths series. However, it has since come to my attention that I have omitted two authors. Here they are.

Petronius

Circa 27 AD – 66 AD

Notable works: Satyricon.

Gaius Petronius Arbiter was a Roman courtier during the reign of the Emperor Nero. Petronius belonged to a group of pleasure seekers whom Seneca described as ‘men who turn night into day’. He also held a number of official positions, including governor of the province of Asia, as well as serving on The Consul, the highest position in Rome. Petronius is widely accepted to be the author of the satirical novel Satyricon, a scathing satire, which ridiculed the pretensions of Rome’s newly rich. Satyricon went beyond the literary limitations of its day by concentrating less on plot than character and by portraying detailed speech and behaviour.

Petronius’s high position purportedly made him an object of envy. In 66 AD, Tigellinus, the commander of the Emperor’s guard, accused him of plotting to kill the Emperor Nero. Petronius was arrested. Instead of waiting for his sentence, the author decided on the slow process of committing suicide by having his veins opened and then bound up again. The bandages were bandaged to prolong life, so that Petronius could spend the last hours as of his life conversing with friends, dealing with his slaves and enjoying a sumptuous banquet, after which he went to bed to die in his sleep. Tacitus wrote of the author’s demise, ‘so that his death, though forced upon him, should seem natural.’

Yukio Mishima

January 14th 1925 – November 25th 1970

Notable works: The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, The Sailor who Fell from Grace with the Sea, Spring Snow.

Yukio Mishima was the pen name of Kimitake Hiraoka – a novelist, playwright, poet, short story writer, essayist and critic. His literary output included thirty four novels, twenty five books of short stories and fifty plays. Considered one of the most important Japanese authors of the Twentieth century, Mishima was nominated three times for the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Mishima’s writing was a fusion of modern and traditional aesthetics that focused on subjects such as death, sexuality and politics. Many of his most famous works were translated into English, resulting in the iconic author becoming popular in both Europe and America.

Mishima was a nationalist with a commitment to the code of the Samurai (bushido). In 1968 he formed Tatenokai or ‘shield society’, a private militia sworn to protect the Emperor of Japan. On November 25th the author and four members of Tatenokai barricaded themselves in the Tokyo headquarters of the Eastern Command of Japan’s self-defence forces. Having delivered a speech from the balcony to the soldiers below, Mishima committed Seppuku, a Japanese ritual suicide consisting of disembowelment followed by beheading.

Tatenokai member, Masakatsu Morita, who was acting as Mishima’s accomplice, failed in his decapitation duties, resulting in another member severing the author’s head. According to Mishima’s biographer and translator John Nathan the author was using the coup as a pretext for the ritual suicide he had long dreamed of.

Click here to read Bizarre Author Deaths VIII

Harrods

Jun 20 2014

On Wednesday afternoon I went to Harrods. This is what I did there.

In the Ladurée cafe on the first floor I came across this dizzying array of macaroons (see below). In my experience macaroons are a bit like wild mushrooms, in that the dullest looking ones are normally the best and the alluringly bright ones are usually the most virulent. I briefly contemplate warning the lady in front of me to reconsider her selection of a strawberry macaroon (they taste like washing up liquid) and to instead go for an extra pistachio (my favourite).

Ignoring the macaroons I ordered a Plaisir Sucré and a pot of Ceylon tea (see aerial shot below).

After tea I took a leisurely stroll through the shop. In the cutlery section I came across this elegant yet understated silver set (see below).

‘Are you interested in this exquisite Carrs silver set,’ enquired a female shop assistant.

‘I’ll take them.’

‘Do you require the box gift wrapped?’

‘I only want these two teaspoons,’ reply I, placing two teaspoons in her palm.

A few minutes later, clasping a small Harrods bag containing my two teaspoons, I made my way to the Luxury Goods department, where I came across what I thought was an ostentatious Ocelot. The label revealed that it actually a ‘lurking Panther’.

Next up was this garish, jewel encrusted Aquamarine Panther (see below).

Having finished with the big cats, I wandered through to the Halcyon art gallery, where I came across this multi-coloured Mao (see below).

The multi-coloured Mao or Cultural Revolution Mark II as I refer to it as was painted by Andy Warhol in 1972. It is an iconic piece of art that continues to cause controversy to this day. Last year the Chinese authorities banned the painting from an exhibition in the country. I was somewhat surprised to see it here in Harrods, a shop that has so many Chinese visitors that there are Chinese speaking staff members in a number of departments. I took to wondering how Chinese tourists visiting the gallery would react. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. A one child Chinese family entered the gallery soon after. The girl, eleven or so I guess, a stack of newly purchased designer handbags cradled under each arm, uttered ‘Mao’ several times and emitted noises that were evidently glee. Her parents approaching the picture took photographs, whilst the grandparents cowered in a corner, perhaps recollecting the Little Red Book touting days of their youth on the communal farm.

It was time to leave.

Controversial Authors (Part 7)

Jun 13 2014

This week’s blog post sees the latest instalment of my popular Controversial Authors series. It will likely be the last. However, as you may be aware from my never-ending Bizarre Author Death series, I am partial to changing my mind, and there may be a further instalment, or possibly two at some point.

Aristophanes

Circa 446 BC – 386 BC

Notable works: The Clouds, The Birds, The Frogs, Lysistrata

Often referred to as ‘the father of comedy’, Aristophanes was an ancient Athenian comic playwright, whose plays are still performed to this day. Though regarded as being old fashioned and conservative, Aristophanes was also extremely controversial. Respected and feared for his comic wit, the playwright was merciless in his scathing satire of religion, politicians and poets. His victims included such influential figures as Euripides, Cleon and Socrates.

Plato, outraged by Aristophanes’ play, The Clouds, labelled it slanderous. The populist Cleon denounced his second play, The Babylonians, as being misrepresentative of the Athenian state. We can only assume any legal action Cleon may have taken was unsuccessful, as Aristophanes caricatured him relentlessly in his subsequent plays, most notably in The Knights.

Arguably Aristophanes’ most controversial work, the play Lysistrata, was written during the Peloponnesian War, a conflict the playwright was bitterly opposed to. The story is about one woman’s efforts to end the war. Having a female lead would have been considered highly controversial in male dominated Athenian society.

Over two thousand years later in 1873 Lysistrata was banned in America, due to its perceived obscene and immoral content.

J.D. Salinger

January 1st 1919 – January 27th 2010

Notable works: The Catcher in the Rye, Nine Stories, Franny and Zooey

The reclusive J.D. Salinger was an American author, whose seminal work The Catcher in the Rye spent thirty weeks on the New York Bestseller List, and went on to sell over ten million copies worldwide. To this day the book continues to sell around a quarter of a million copies a year.

At the time of its publication in 1951 many were concerned by what they regarded as the immorality and perversion of the book’s protagonist, Holden Caulfield. The text is replete with religious slurs, casual sex and prostitution; subject matters that were highly controversial in the conservative nineteen-fifties. One concerned parent counted two hundred and thirty-seven occurrences of the word ‘goddamn’, fifty-eight ‘bastard’s’, thirty-one ‘Chrissake’s’ and six ‘fuck’s’.

The book was later banned in some countries and in many U.S. schools. In the nineteen-seventies several high school teachers who had assigned The Catcher in the Rye were forced to resign from their posts. A 1979 study of censorship noted that The Catcher in the Rye was the most frequently censored book in America, in addition to being the second most taught (after Of Mice and Men).

Click here to read Part 6.

Banks, Politics and The World Cup

Jun 06 2014

Tuesday Morning 11:50am – I am walking to the bank. There is a newspaper discarded on a bench at the bus stop. I pick it up. The queue at the bank stretches nearly to the door. I take the opportunity to peruse the paper. It appears that half of Europe is in the midst of political change. The Greeks are refusing to accept austerity measures. Marine Le Pen’s far-right National Front scored its first victory in European Parliament elections in France. And over here the rise of UKIP, could be the final nail in the coffin for the Liberal Democrats, if this paper is to be believed. A scruffily dressed woman with a wheel trolley standing behind me, points at the article I am reading and says, ‘Innit it sad so many idiots voting for that UKIP.’

‘Quite,’ reply I.

‘Is that all you got to say, you can do better than that.’

Looking up at her I remark, ‘Are you aware that you are wearing a beige jumper with floral motif tracksuit bottoms?’

She looks down at her ensemble and then up at me. She says, ‘Err yes, I put them on didn’t I.’

‘Oh, you do know, okay.’

After leaving the bank I stop off at a pub, where I continue reading the newspaper whilst sipping on a pint of Fosters. At the other end of my table two men are partaking in a jovial conversation. A man with a Scottish accent, who from the look of his bulbous nose and thread veined cheeks, drinks full time. The other, a gentleman in an expensive looking linen summer suit, who sounds like he is from West Africa.

Soon after they engage me in conversation. The newspaper is laid out on the table in front of me, and the Scottish man and the other, who transpires to be a Nigerian, make comments about its various articles. It is a sort of impromptu ‘Question Time’ (broadcast on the BBC). The Nigerian, name unknown, has a quick wit, which I appreciate. On turning to the political article from earlier, he complains about the ‘ineptitude’ of British politicians compared to his home country of Nigeria. I tell him, ‘I’ve got two words for you, Boko – Haram’.

On turning to the finance pages it becomes apparent that he is something of a minerals expert, as he offers some fairly detailed analysis about the state of the Australian bauxite industry and Congolese coltan mines. The Scottish man finishes his drink and bids us farewell.

Next up is the sports section. Inevitably the conversation turns to the forthcoming World Cup. In a very sincere voice he tells me that he believes that the Super Eagles (Nigeria) will win the tournament. I laugh out loud and then exclaim, ‘Absolute nonsense, Nigeria won’t even get out of their group. Bosnia and Herzegovina will go through in second place behind Argentina.’

‘How can you know these things,’ responds the man in a menacing tone, encroaching into my personal space as he does so.

I reply, ‘I just do.’

He proceeds to preach to me about the qualities of the Super Eagles, in a very loud and aggressive manner, using hand gestures liberally, pacing up and down as he does so. His comments include, ‘You cannot understand these things.’ And ‘We have Mikel, Moses and Emenike.’ And ‘God is with the Super Eagles.’

Then, quite unexpectedly, he pulls up the trouser legs of his white suit to reveal green Super Eagle socks. This is concerning.

A barman walks over. He tells us a customer has complained, and we have to leave, which seems unreasonable, as I haven’t uttered so much as a word in quite sometime. I down my pint. Outside in the fresh air the man is instantly calm again. We go our separate ways.

New Curtains and Blinds

May 30 2014

Tuesday Morning – The new curtains and blinds finally arrive. It seems an eternity ago that I ordered them, probably because it was. An hour or so later curtains and blinds have been erected downstairs. They look great, well worth the wait.

The fitter is putting the finishing touches to the Roman Blind when I walk into the upstairs room that serves as my study. I like it. He explains that it is the legal requirement that the string pulley system be at least 150cm from the ground. This is to prevent youngsters becoming entangled and potentially strangled by the string. He demonstrates the height with a measuring tape, then hands me a form to sign. The form states something to the effect that the fitting is in keeping with European standards for blind and shutter safety regulation EN13120:2009+A1:2014.

I shake my head glumly and say, ‘Perhaps I should have told you this earlier. My doctor has exempted me from all EN13120:2009 blind and shutter regulations.’

‘You have a what?’ replies the man in a surprised tone.

‘An exemption. You see a pulley system with fittings in excess of 120cm in height poses a potential threat to my wellbeing. I’m an asphyxiation fetishist you see.’

‘Excuse me.’

‘An asphyxiation fetishist.’

‘What’re those?’

‘Asphyxiation fetishists, or gaspers as they are commonly referred to in the trade, are people who get sexual gratification from the intentional restriction of oxygen to the brain.’ My gaze never leaves his face as I say this, and there is not even the faintest flicker of a smile.

‘No, I err don’t know anything about that’, replies the courteous, professional, if rather timorous man.

I stride up to the blind and wrap the string around my neck. Now I’m smiling.

‘Don’t do that,’ he replies holding his arms out.

‘I’ll have to phone the shop,’ he says. ‘Do you have a doctor’s certificate? The shop might need a copy for their files.’

‘Don’t worry I’ll sign it, but be warned, if it results in misadventure this will be landing on your doorstep.’

Having signed the form I hand it back to him, thinking that perhaps I should tell him that I’m joking, as I’m feeling increasingly embarrassed. However it is evidently far, far too late for that. After refusing the offer of a cup of tea he completed the erection of the blind in the final room in less than half the time it took him to do any of the others. Then he was packing up his tools at a frenetic pace and heading out the door. I was surprised that he never questioned my preposterous and irrational lie. After all would a lower pulley system really prevent a gasper’s activities, and at any rate wouldn’t they consider ordering curtains instead. I put it down to the fact that when we are in a state of shock we often don’t think rationally, and simply go into panic mode.

The curtains and blinds look fantastic.

AUTHOR GUY PORTMAN'S BLOG

Culinary Revelations

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The Commonwealth Games

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Alcoholic Authors V

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Fajitas, Fascists and The Future

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Lake Como

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Bizarre Author Deaths IX

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Harrods

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Controversial Authors (Part 7)

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Banks, Politics and The World Cup

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New Curtains and Blinds

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AUTHOR GUY PORTMAN'S BLOG

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