My first diet
Ever. It's my own idea. The C-diet. The
'C' stands for curry. I might rename it the R+C (curry and rice) or
the C+BR (curry and basmati rice) diet if there's already a C-diet
(there probably is, there seems to be one for every other letter of
the alphabet. Or the C+C (curry and chapati diet). Last night it was
Basmati chicken curry (served in its own pot, includes rice or nan,
breast 60p extra, the restaurants say). It was hot with fresh
chillies, warm with fresh ginger, heady with a lot of fresh garlic,
the coconut milk was sharpened with lemon juice. It did come with
basmati rice and a pint of sparkling water. Very nice indeed.
Tonight it's Dhansak. Hot and sour,
with lentils, includes pilau rice, the restaurants say. Chicken, into
the usual suspects, then some extra hot curry paste, chopped
tomatoes, and an unfeasable amount of lentils, pre-cooked. The tart
of the tomatoes should be aided and abetted by the large dollop of
yoghurt. Served with an experimental lassi. Made with sparkling
water. Yoghurt, sparkling water, salt and a dash of cayenne pepper.
Lovely.
Don't suppose I'll lose any weight.
When grub tastes this good, you wants buckets of the stuff.
Random Acts of Senseless Violence
That's a book by Jack Womack. The only
Womack I've read. Not because the title has that ears pricking up
effect (an old boss, blessed with a sense of humour, used to send an
occasional email with the subject: Free Beer! Naturally, we all knew
what was coming: “...right. Now I've got your attention...” but
the draw of some things is irresistible. No, Random Acts...is the
only Jack Womack book I've ever managed to get hold of without paying
unfeasibly large amounts of money. I've exhausted all my usual
sources.
Anyway, he's worth following on Twitter
for frequent links to superb photo sets of New York's dark underbelly
and less explored corners (like those London ones of that Italian
café that's been operating in Hackney for eighty-odd years, the one
with 'spaghetti bolognaise and chips' signwritten on the shopfront
glass, and of the last independent bookies in Wilesden). There's a
link today to his article on Joyce and Finnegan's Wake:
http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2012/jul/12/what-make-finnegans-wake/?page=1
Of
Ulysses and The Dead Womack says: “Between
them those two works managed to say everything a pitying heart and a
pitiless intellect could say about death and sex and love and
literature, loss and desire, friendship and animosity, talk and
silence, mourning and dread.”
Over
the top?
BLISS
took White drama-queen diva-dog to the vets today, to get her claws
trimmed. Isn't that like going to the brain surgeon for a haircut?
A
cheeseshop sketch moment
I
wanted some wood glue to repair my cricket bat. Ah! A hardware shop.
Just the place, wouldn't you think?
“Can
I help you”
“Yes,
I need some wood glue”
“Oh.
No. We don't stock that...[my brain: 'what sort of hardware shop is
this? Nails? Late delivery. Fork handles? Not on a Tuesday. Hose?
Just sold the last one, sir]...I was probably looking confused...she
went on: “we've got some superglue”
[Brain
starts misbehaving. “Oh. Yes. Of course. I'll take some of your
best superglue. Silly of me. When I said “wood”, naturally I
meant “super”. Don't know what I could've been thinking about.”
Inches away from full-on Bazil Fawlty meltdown.]
“No,
no, it's wood glue I need”, exit, hurriedly, coughing.
No comments:
Post a Comment