It’s only 7th November and there have been two consecutive adverts on ITV featuring a Christmas roast turkey. It’s nowhere near Christmas. Global capital is obviously trying to burn a hole in consumers’ pockets and trying to get them out to spend cash they don’t have at the moment on rubbish they don’t need. Maybe there’s a case for buying presents ahead but certainly not turkey. I think advertising those kind of Christmas goods is completely counterproductive and will annoy people intensely.
Chirpy Richard Hammond was doing a Morrison’s advert where he pushed a trolley through a variety of Christmas scenes (ice rink, carol singing, church service). Isn’t this a bit odd. Normally only hooded chavs and students push trolleys down roads away from the supermarket car park and abandoned trolleys are a sure to make middle-class housebuyers run a mile from a neighbourhood. Yet here is the lovable hamster setting a thoroughly bad example (there’s not even any shopping in his trolley). Perhaps he’s taking it to his public school mates on Top Gear to blow up or something? Either way he should be locked up. However, there is something quite authentic in using a shopping trolley as a representation of Christmas present because, as far as most business is concerned, Christmas is just an orgy of consumerism.
In the old days before its management came up with wheezes like charging passengers for choosing seats and getting rid of food (see previous posting), British Airways used to make a profit in the period April to October while usually making a cyclical loss in the winter. The new management have taken the cyclicity out by ensuring the airline loses money in the summer too — to the tune of nearly £300m.
Perhaps the twin track strategy of destroying customer service and constantly antagonising its own workforce is a deliberate attempt to turn BA into a low-cost airline? There can’t be any other explanation for this wanton destruction.
There’s a fascinating article in this week’s Economist (it appears to be free for non-subscribers but perhaps only for the current week) on the reason why most red wine traditionally doesn’t complement fish. It’s all to do with the iron content of wine and how iron reacts with fatty compounds in fish to produce genuinely vile flavour combinations — it’s all scientifically proven. (The iron-rich red wines tasted ok when they were chelated i.e. had the iron removed by addition of a chemical to make it inert.)
One thing this shows is the fascinating role of minerals in the taste of food and drink. The amount of iron that makes it into wine, through the skins and stalks (and even the juice as it’s in some white wines), must be pretty miniscule but it’s enough to make it unpalatable with fish.
Wine is thought to have a fairly low mineral content compared with drinks where the vegetable matter is more aggressively infused into the drink, such as the malt that is ground to make the wort for beer. It makes one wonder how much of these trace elements might be ingested by a regular beer or wine drinker compared with the tiny amounts of these elements put in the average vitamin pill.
I went to the Aylesbury Beer Festival in Stoke Mandeville at the weekend and partook of some lovely beer. There were 28 barrels (see photo) to try.
Lots of Lovely Beer
Unsurprisingly the best beers (IMHO) were the ones that ran out first. St.Austell ‘Bucket of Blood’ was the first to go — this was a sweet, dark bitter. Not far behind was Tring ‘Phantom Monk’ — a very pale, light beer that I enjoyed a lot. One of the more unusual beers was Greenjack ‘Orange Wheat’ — a wheat beer that thankfully was bronish rather than actually orange (as is the colour of Cheddar Valley real cider that looks like radioactive nuclear waste that has been vomited up and is very popular with real cider lovers). There were a few reliable standbys — Woodforde’s ‘Wherry’ and two from reliable breweries Bath Ales ‘Barnstormer’ and Loddon ‘Russet’. Vale had a couple of beers — their ‘Something Wicked’ was based on ‘Gravitas’, which is their very drinkable strong, pale coloured ale. Harviestoun ‘s real lager ‘Schiehallion’ kept its condition well right to the end. Of the stronger beers Derventio’s ‘Barbarian Stout’ was good, as was the hard-to-find Chiltern ‘Lord Lieutenant’s Porter’ which was sponsored in memory of Dick Moore, who was a stalwart of the festival in previous years and who died a few weeks ago.
The Restaurant on BBC2 promised to plumb further depths of the stupidity of the deluded members of the British middle-class who convince themselves that running a restaurant is some sort of decadent leisure activity for the indolent celebrity class rather than be a very hard way of making a living. (Beware: spoiler alert below).
There was some shocking ineptness from the start when the contestants were asked to cook a ‘signature’ dish — some of them tried something they’d never even attempted before. They knew that their dish would be served to Raymond Blanc (with his two Michelin stars), although they might not have been aware that he’d be wandering round the kitchen looking at the packaging on their food. Even so, it was staggering that three of the couples went shopping for their food in Asda (‘voted Britain’s cheapest supermarket). Now Asda can do a few foodie things that even M&S and Waitrose don’t do (chopped up organic carrot batons for one) but its customer base cannot be said to be the most discerning smoked salmon connoisseurs. (I’m not being a food snob. I go there myself sometimes where it’s fine for basic things but a smoked salmon specialist it’s definitely not.). It was no surprise that they failed to find gravadlax there — this is probably only reliably found at Christmas in places like M&S, though Waitrose has plenty of types of smoked salmon and may do it all year round. The thought of going to a specialist smoked fish supplier probably never crossed their minds. Even so, this pair did nothing with their plain Asda smoked salmon except put it on a plate with a load of chopped up beetroot or something and a few crusts of bread. They then stood around looking pleased with themselves while the other contestants busted a gut to finish their dishes in an hour. Even so, they survived until next week.
One of the most intriguing things about this reality show is the mismatched abilities of the couples. One has to deal with front of house while the other is the chef. Often one of the two is reasonably competent with the other being completely useless and a persistent cause of failure — this leads to fascinating strains in the partnership, particularly when the two are related. There was a team of dominating mother and henpecked son. She was a decent cook but lost out because her son told the lovely Sarah (who has one of the most comically expressive faces on television) that it was impossible to describe his mother’s restaurant concept — completely clueless.
The most amazing part of the show came when another parent-child couple tried to open a coconut — which they eventually manage to bludgeon into a pulp — and then were stumped by a tin of evaporated milk. The daughter of the couple didn’t look so young she’d never have encountered old style tins (without the handy ring on the top) but she seemed to have no concept of what a tin opener was. Perhaps using a tin opener will need to be taught and assessed in schools (maybe it’s on the A-level syllabus for domestic science, which explains youngsters’ ignorance) or perhaps the sharp edges to the tins break health and safety regulations? However, what health and safety types wilfully fail to
An Innovative Way to Open A Tin of Condensed Milk
recognise is the incredibly dangerous methods people dream up to achieve their objectives left to their own devices. In the case of the can of condensed milk, the opening method attempted was to hold a butcher’s cleaver vertically against the can lid (its point downwards) and to then hammer the knife handle with a rolling pin. The film crew must have been waiting hopefully for an accidental disembowelment if the extra sharp Raymond Blanc knife slipped into the woman’s stomach when she attempted to smash down on the knife to gain access to the tin. Fortunately, Raymond spotted her in time and showed her a helpful gadget that has no doubt saved many lives in similar circumstances in about 150 years of canned food — a tin opener. It would have been fascinating to see the education in other kitchen utensils that this couple may have gained in later episodes — oven gloves, corkscrews, bottle openers, perhaps — but Raymond sadly sent them home for their own safety.
It makes quite a serious point about health and safety as almost everyone has enough in their kitchen to do horrendous damage to both themselves and others — sharp knives, roasting hot ovens, boiling water, naked flames. Yet many people happily cook complex meals involving these and many other dangers while lubricating themselves with alcohol at well over the legal drink drive limit. Watch out for the government to go into cahoots with ready meal makers and supermarkets and bring in the kitchen breathalyser built into appliances which will lock all drawers and turn off all appliances except the microwave (to be used for M&S ready meals) if a cook is found to be over the limit.
Among the myriad things that Charlie doesn’t like are (in general) Bob Dylan’s music and discussing anything related to Christmas until we’ve had Guy Fawkes night (and preferably not until we’ve opened our advent calendars). But the new album released by Bob Dylan seems so bizarre that it’s worth a mention at the end of October. The reviewer in The Independent referred to it as “a… musical atrocity committed in the names of Christmas and charity;” and “downright weird”. I heard something from it on the radio and it sounded a complete joke — like someone doing their worst impression of Bob Dylan’s appalling singing voice and setting it to the most unlikely material — such as ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’. I read another review in Time magazine that said it should be viewed in the context of Dylan paying homage to what most Americans of his age regarded as vernacular folk music — the easy listening crooners of the 40s and 50s, such as Bing Crosby and early 60s. It’s also possible that some of the stick the album is getting is from the miltant Dawkins types — one wonders whether Dylan would have been treated with reverence had he sung songs based on another religious tradition. Whatever, I might buy it for the novelty value and to enjoy inflicting it on over-jolly people over the festive period.
A tube worker has resigned because he was being exceptionally rude and offensive to a passenger. I wonder if the fact he was caught doing this on video has anything to do with it. Now the chap needs a new job he should consider that there is a still a career option open to people with the talent to insult the public and who hold the public in general contempt — pub landlord of course. Liberalisation of the licensing laws and a tougher economic climate have made the obnoxious, bigoted landlord a less common inhabitant of the country’s pubs (many will go out of business rather than make an effort to cater for any customer who’s not ‘a local’). However, many still hang on. The local CAMRA branch recently had a meeting in a fairly rural pub and presented the landlord with a pack celebrating his pub’s inclusion (for the first time) in the Good Beer Guide (2010). His response was to refuse to serve one member a coffee and generally complain that we didn’t drink enough beer (several people had to drive). He also kept on insulting one person about the length of his hair.
Web cvs are obviously designed to promote their subject but Anton du Beke surely goes just a little over the top with his: ‘Witty, charismatic and a natural entertainer, Anton’s skills in front of an audience extend far beyond his exceptional ballroom talents.’ My own cv is a minor masterclass in bullshit but Anton is leagues ahead. Does ‘skill in front of an audience’ extend to being knocked into a tank of water by a huge polystyrene wall as in ‘Hole in the Wall’? This is a programme that makes Jeux Sans Frontieres of the 1970s look like a philosophical treatise. Remember Stuart Hall crackling and wheezeing down a phone line ‘Ha ha ha, just look at the Belgians, ho ho ho’?
Tonight’s ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ was notable for having an act in the intermission that danced to a particularly superb song of the 60s — although the house band’s arrangement followed the Santana 70s version. ‘She’s Not There’ is an iconic song — its languid verses contrasting with an increasingly frenetic chorus. The negative of the song’s lyrics echoed by the drumming on the off-beat.
Spotted near Baker Street tube station — the vegetable incarnation of Charlie’s favourite autumn celebration. The box suggests that these were produced by the country which currently likes to antagonise or cock a snook at the spirtitual home of Pumpkin Pie. It shows that, perhaps, ideology bows to commerciality.
My local Majestic Wine Warehouse had an encouragingly large and diverse selection of beers. Not only were the usual suspects well represented (Fullers, Young and Wells, Shepherd Neame, Adnams, Greene King and so on) but there were some cases from the likes of Hop Back (Summer Lightning), Black Sheep, Thwaites and even Tring had Sidepocket for a Toad and Death or Glory on sale
Unusual Breweries at Majestic
Best from my perspective was a mixed case of Bath Ales beers — including Gem, Wild Hare, Barnstormer and Dark Hare. With the Majestic discount (£6 off 2 cases of beer) this worked out at exactly £1.50 per bottle. That’s not a bad price to support an up and coming brewery.
I’ve just seen one of the saddest sights imaginable — a straggle of IT geeks were queueing up outside PC World at the top of Tottenham Court Road waiting until midnight so they can get their sweaty fingers on Windows 7 (yes, I’m blogging from a moving train!). Apparently there’s a massive demand for the new Microsoft OS which shows one of two things: a) people have forgotten how many bugs Vista originally had in it or b) people are so unhappy with Vista they are desperate for something to replace it with (even if it’s from the same pedigree as Vista). Of course there’s also option c) — that the IT industry is populated with dsyfunctional, anti-social freaks who thrive on novelty and their possession of some bit of software that no-one else has yet. However, that’s a given.
I use both Vista and XP and have never really ‘got’ Vista. Although my version seems to work ok, it seemed to be designed by some marketeers who wanted to replace old features from XP for the sake of it. Perhaps there’s a way of getting back some of my favourite XP dialogues and short cuts but I’m not prepared to waste my life in discovering them (not being an aforementioned anal retentive geek — though sad enough to blog on it, if not queue up for it).
Wherever in America that the idea for trick and treating came from must have been a very innocent place. Suggesting
Shame It Doesn't Issue On The Spot ASBOs
that children be sent out in the dark to knock on strangers’ doors to ask for sweets would probably get the average British person banged up in jail these days. These days the little children are shaparoned by parents to a few friendly houses early in the evening and then leave the streets to be menaced by gangs of feral teenagers who think this ludicrous ‘custom’ obliges them to commit vandalism, intimidation and all other manner of anti-social behaviour. One step in the right direction is this poster that Thames Valley Police have produced to tell these obnoxious oiks that they’re unwelcome before they even get to the door. It’s a shame there’s no legal sanction that automatically comes with ignoring it. In our current police state it would be unsurprising if these posters came with their own CCTV camera that filmed any idiot who ignored it and issued them with an automatic ASBO as soon as they knocked on a door. I doubt the poster will do much good apart from provide more work for the police poster making department — this seems to be the busiest part of the police force at the moment with all the signs around saying ‘Thieves will take your sat nav’, ‘Don’t leave valuables in your car’, ‘Pickpockets at work’. The next thing might be signs at the end of every street saying ‘Burglars around. Don’t leave anything in your house’ or ‘Muggers have been known in this town. Don’t get out of your car.’
Going back to Hallowe’en, which I think is the most banal, tasteless, over-commercialised, crass, money-grabbing, cynical marketing exercise that has emerged from the United States — and that’s saying something as there’s plenty of competition. I don’t particularly object to the underlying idea of Hallowe’en itself — a few ghost stories, maybe even a party with a ghoulish theme is ok. However, the shops have been desperate since the end of August to peddle complete over-priced rubbish: Marks and Spencers sell outrageously expensive tiny chocolates themed with some pathetic horror element. Some cake companies are churning out blood-themed sponge bars. It’s all just gimmickry designed to rip people off. The worst thing is that these products are mainly aimed at children — using pester power profiteering out of parents’ pockets.
And before all this commercial Hallowe’en rubbish we had a perfectly good autumn event with fireworks, bonfires and so on. Fortunately Guy Fawkes night is resolutely holding on to its popularity, although increasingly anal retentive health and safety concerns (often totally unfounded) have meant many communities have dropped the bonfire aspect. The thing global capital doesn’t like about 5th November is that there is limited scope to flog us overpriced tat to go with the fireworks — apart from parkin and black peas (for good northerners) there’s not much else for capital’s profiteering. The bonfire can’t be picked up in a supermarket although it’s the most appropriate destination for most of their Hallowe’en merchandise.
I went to the impressive new Sainsbury’s in High Wycombe and ended up, surprisingly, in the beer department at the weekend. They had a special 3 for £10 deal on bottled Meantime beers. This wasn’t bad value as the beers are normally sold at over £4 each. The bottles are 750ml which makes one wonder if they are trying too hard to compete with wine. I bought two IPAs and one London Porter (the only two available).
Meantime seem to be darlings of the beer writing establishment. However, I found the beers to be quite pleasant but not justifying the hype of some journalists. The IPA was enjoyable but had nothing like the complexity of the cask conditioned Thornbridge Jaipur IPA, for example. The London Porter seemed a little underpowered to me and nothing comparable with something live like the Chiltern Brewery Lord Lieutenant’s Porter.
When it came to bagging up the empty bottles to go to the recycling bin I realised that Meantime must be a marketing-driven operation as they’d pulled the a wine marketing trick. This was something I read about a famous wine warehouse chain who had advised their producers that a good way of upping the price consumers will pay for a wine is to put it in a heavier bottle. Apparently we, as consumers, equate bottle weight with quality and it’s possible that (before duty) more money will be spent on a bottle than on the liquid inside. Meantime’s bottles are almost as heavy as champagne bottles (and they have no reason to be as there is nowhere near the internal pressure in the bottle that champagne has). The bottles are stoppered like sparkling wine too. Apart from trying to con the customer these bottles are very eco-unfriendly.
Overall, they were nice beers but not the classics that the extremely expensive packaging suggested. Maybe Meantime should pay slightly more attention to their beer than their marketing — but I guess that this sort of sublimal marketing is part of their business plan. Often marketing considerations can degrade a beer’s quality as breweries, like a famous one in Kent, bottle their beers in clear bottles despite the adverse effect light can have on a beer’s flavour — at least Meantime’s bottles were the right colour. Even so, it’s funny how some of Meantime’s biggest fans in the press used to criticise lager lover for just drinking the marketing.
The Financial Services Authority has come up with a novel idea — banks should make sure that people who take out loans and mortgages should be able to pay them back! We have to hope that sanity breaks out and these proposals are rejected as it would mean turning off the principal means of growth in the economy for the past several years — people being able to borrow money they can’t pay back all based on an unsustainable inflationary rise in house prices that is purely speculative.
Some idiot estate agent type was on the radio bemoaning the FSA’s extinguishing the green shoots in the housing market by these proposals as he’d been cautiously optimistic that things were returning to normal. Doesn’t he realise that ‘normal’ got us (or, more precisely, people who haven’t received massive bonuses underwritten by Gordon Brown this year) into this mess in the first place.
Why is it that every idiot journalist who presents a radio or TV story on house prices starts from the presumption that rising house prices are an indisputably good thing? Don’t they realise that people buy as well as sell houses and that, strangely enough, people who sell their houses tend to need to buy another to move into. Rapidly rising prices make things more expensive in absolute terms for anyone who isn’t downsizing into a smaller property — as well as destroying the market as a whole by barring new entrants. The only people who gain unreservedly are people who stand to inherit some massive house in an expensive area — and who can’t wait for the occupants to die. Funnily enough, this sounds like the sort of demographic group (ageing spoiled rich brats) who tend to write these ‘good news, house price inflation is rampant’ stories in the media so maybe they’re acting in their best interests after all?
Today outside the Mayor of London’s office there’s a demonstration against prejudice against obese people. I thought this might be more self-pitying, politically correct rubbish until I noted one of the protestors’ objectives: ‘protesters want the UK to follow San Francisco, where a law bans “fat-ism”…and stops doctors pressing patients to slim down’. Seeing as there’s far more of a causal effect between obesity and poor health than there is with alcohol, I’d fully support these radical ‘persons of size’ because that would set a precedent that would stop the constant lecturing of the likes of the BMA about the dangers of alcohol. There was yet another piece of dubious statistical interpretation released to the press today and all over Google News.
