FODDERBLOG – Arroz Espanol

My problem (of which there are many, yes, granted, but for the purposes of this post, let’s concentrate on the culinary conundrum) is that I’m frequently in the door late, to be confronted by a hungry Clare demanding scran in a flash.

Now, I don’t do packet food or ready meals, but I’m not averse to the odd shortcut. Like everyone else, I will sometimes resort to pasta and pesto – handy, as this is one of Clare’s favourite things. But I can do better with a little forward planning. I’ll elaborate further on this in the coming weeks, but as a rule of thumb, consider that I take pleasure in frugality. In other words, I like to cook more than I need, and freeze or chill the remains for meals days afterwards.

An example, then. This is the meal I cooked tonight. I was cold, wet and hungry, and running late. Clare is studying again, and has neither the time or inclination to catch up if I’m slacking on my watch. I’ve got to gets me my cook on.

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I always have a bag of cooked rice to hand in the freezer. I always make twice the quantity I’ll need for a particular meal, and the rest can be tucked away for when it’s needed most. The rice will defrost in minutes in the microwave.

So. Heat some olive oil (not extra virgin) in a deep-sided frying pan. Into the hot oil, one finely chopped leek and a wilted red pepper. No, it doesn’t have to be wilted. It’s just that mine was. Five minutes gentle cooking, to soften and sweeten the veg. Then scrape ’em out, and keep ’em warm in a bowl.

Then I threw in some roughly chopped chorizo sausage and the last of the mushrooms, again starting to wilt a bit. Chorizo is genius. Sweet, hot, smoky and meaty, it’ll flatter most of the bold-flavoured food I like to cook, and will last for ages in the fridge until it’s needed. It will crisp in the hot pan, and give off spicy brick-red paprika-scented oil that the mushrooms slurp up with abandon. Five more minutes, until the chorizo colours at the edges. Then the leeks and peppers go back in, along with the cooked rice. Mix everything together, and cook until the rice is hot and fragrant with the spiced oil.

If you’ve got any fresh parsley, chop up a handful, then throw it in just before you serve the lot in bowls. If you’re feeling extra hungry, have some tortilla chips on the side for scooping. I don’t think you need it though. It’s cheap and filling as it is. If you’re feeling fancy, maybe add some chicken or prawns. Maybe stir in a spoonful of creme fraiche for a creamier finish. Don’t assume this meal has any pretension towards being a paella or arroz con pollo, though. It’s just quick, cheap grub for a cold winters night.

Got Live If You Want It

I’ve had a bit of a musical epiphany. For a while now, friends who are more musically savvy than me have been raving about Wolfgang’s Vault, a depositary of live music that is heavily skewed to the golden age of bootlegging, the 70s. It’s been one of those sites that, while I can see the benefit, I never really found the time or energy to register too much of an interest.
A couple of things have changed that. Firstly, there’s now a Vault widget available for the iPhone, allowing you to listen to the archive on the move – a brilliant idea, which seems to be optimised for either Wi-Fi, 3G or even Edge browsing, making listening to concerts on the train completely doable. Like Last.FM, this now means I can carry an absolute shedload of music around with me without maxing out the phone’s hard drive.
The concert that finally got me listening to Wolfgang is the almost legendary gig Bruce Springsteen did at the Winterland just before Christmas 1978. Almost three hours of the Boss at his best. It’s worth signing up to the site just for this, but any music fan will find something to tickle the interest.
If that’s not enough, a bright spark called Dean Putney has written a friendly front end to archive.org’s Live Music Archive at Dewey Music, making it easy to hunt out a ton of good stuff, including a rather neat search on concerts from today – an interesting spin on the “on this day in history” search. Deeply, deeply rummageworthy, Readership.
Finally, I’m gonna show the love to Dr. Jones, who’s doing some great work over at Blip.fm under the name Alison’s Army. Post punky goodness.

And of course… RIP Lux Interior.

The Sky Is Falling…

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(photo from Lady Stevo for the Flickr Snowday London group)

…or so the papers and TV would have you believe, anyway. Heaviest snowfall in eighteen years, trains and bus services paralysed, roads gridlocked. Nightmare, right?

Well, kind of. Getting into work was slightly more problematic than usual, and I will admit to writing this on the train on the way home after a disgracefully short day. However, I managed everything on my schedule before I left. I just wanted to avoid any potential nightmares at evening rush hour while doing a sneaky half-day at the same time.

The most difficult part of the journey for me today was the walk to Reading station. Iced-up snow made the going underfoot slow to treacherous, and I slipped over once (and of course, got to my feet to hear a concerned voice behind me ask, “are you alright, mate?” Great, bad enough that I found it impossible to keep my balance, without a witness there to see the whole embarrassing spectacle). However, we try to remain graceful under pressure. I only nearly twisted my ankle. That would have been fun. I’d have had to limp home under the same icy conditions, and uphill. As it was, I virtually skated from Picadilly Circus to Wardour Street, and it’s getting glassier underfoot as the day wears on.

The thing that struck me was how easily convinced people have been that it’s OK to take a snow day. The BBC was practically encouraging it, which would have made an interesting conversation with your boss. “I can’t make it in today. Emily Maitlis told me not to.”

With that in mind, it felt like a Sunday in Soho. Everywhere was quiet. Shops just didn’t bother opening. There was nothing on the roads. Work was half-empty, and the receptionist was so glad to see someone that she gave me a hug when I got in.

It never ceases to astonish me how crap we are in bad weather. Stopping the bus services in London this morning was disgraceful, and even though I’m used to the tubes falling over at the first sign of anything other than dry, temperate weather, I would have been in real trouble if the bit of the Bakerloo line I needed hadn’t been running. A walk into work would have resulted in a snapped appendage at best, and oh yeah, no buses.

I find it hard to believe that there’s no bad weather plan in place, to prevent the PR nightmare for Bozo Boris the Comedy Mayor of news footage showing snow-covered buses and trains shut in their depots during Monday rush hour. Hardly good for business, eh? In fact, according to the Federation of Small Businesses, it’s going to cost us £1.2 billion per day in lost earnings while people don’t go to work – an estimated 20% of the population didn’t make it in today for whatever reason.

Maybe the ease with which most of England decided “sod it, let’s have a day off and build a snowman” is partly due to the prevailing gloom and dark mood. No-one’s really feeling too incentivised at the moment, so the chance to kick back for a day must have been too good to miss. If there’s the slightest chance that you could be delayed getting into work, or that the person you need to see won’t make it in, or if the kids school has closed and they need someone to look after them, then you’re going to take the day off, and all power to you. You know full well you’re not alone. It’s the perfect excuse. “Everyone else is doing it. Why can’t I?”

If there hadn’t been a train waiting at Reading when I arrived, I may well have decided not to bother.

And it is darn pretty out there today…

DISCLAIMER: of course, a ton of people have struggled to make it into work today in appalling conditions. Clare tried and failed to get out of a gridlocked Caversham for an hour today before going home, having a hot drink then heading into Reading by bus to get the train to Oxford. That’s commitment, peoples.

Finally, idiot question of the day. While waiting for the 23 home at Reading, a well-spoken chap came up to me and asked what bus I was waiting for. Then asked me if they were running. I was polite, and did not give voice to my immediate reaction, which was “well, if they’re not, we’re both going to look stupid and feel cold, aren’t we?”

A Couple Of Treats

I’ve been busier than you think.

First up, I’m pleased to reveal the Making Of Code Grey, a little something I’ve called Cut The Blue Wire.

While we were shooting Code Grey, we were lucky enough to have the talented, handsome and charismatic Simon Aitken with us, shooting behind the scenes footage.

He was foolish enough to let me have said footage, from which I’ve cut together this promo.

GASP at how hunky Clive looks in a bulletproof vest!

GOGGLE at Flemming’s inspired lighting setups!

WINCE at Rob’s pitiful attempt at directorship!

DECIDE to go and watch something more interesting on YouTube instead.

No, wait, come back, dammit!

Secondly, I’ve begun updating Satan’s Schoolgirls again, following some honest to goodness unsolicited enthusiasm. I’ve closed out Part One, and I’ll try to get back into the flow of putting up a new episode every Sunday.

It’s worth a look. And from here, it only gets weirder…

The Laptop Activist

Get yer vote on .. online, that is!
Get yer vote on .. online, that is!

So far this week, I have written to my local MP to urge him to vote against a sneaky government move to stop members of parliament from having to declare their expenses, helped with a fund-raising effort for a campaign to abolish the death penalty in the US, and signed an Amnesty International petition calling for accountability for alleged war crimes in Gaza.
All worthy causes, all of which came directly to my inbox, and none of which took more than 10 minutes to do.
This is one of the joys of the internet for me. It is easier than ever to involve yourself in protests, sign petitions and annoy your local elected representatives without leaving the comfort of your sofa. I take great pleasure in annoying Rob Wilson, MP for Reading East, by the way. It gives me a great sense of involvement and mischief.

Facebook is full of campaigns that very quickly accrue memberships in the millions. Ok, a lot of them are quite frivolous (I’m guilty of joining a few of those myself) but the point is that you can  make your voice heard on any issue that you feel strongly about with very little effort. This can be desperately important. Amnesty’s Urgent Action Network uses email alerts to very quickly garner responses to rapidly developing human rights crises, and let’s face it, the government seems to be happy with the idea of online petitioning.

Mobilising vast numbers of people quickly and easily is always going to be the best way of raising awareness of your cause, and the push towards social networking here at the start of the 21st century has really helped that along. In our way, we’re all armchair activists now.

With that in mind then, a bit of a confession.

Really, this post has been all about highlighting some of my favourite causes of the moment in a fashion that may just inspire you to click on some of the links, and maybe, just maybe, start contributing. Go ahead. Grab yerself a cuppa and have a nose. Do something good in your tea break.

Continue reading The Laptop Activist

Vagaries of the spoken language vol.

In no particular order, and as they come to me:

My dad does not ask if I’ve watched a particular TV show or listened to a particular album. He asks if I’ve “got involved” with them.

Despite the fact that I have called myself Rob for forever, most of my work collegues call me Roberto. This has happened at more than one place. The only difference was at the lab I left this summer, where for some unknown reason I became Robski. Go figure.

When newspaper columnists use the phrase “Here’s a tip”, you can guarantee the advice that follows will be 50% more condescending and irritating than usual.

Bragging rights

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My room, last week. Yes, it's usually this dark.

A couple of things that I have been involved in at a professional level have been promoted in the press recently. I figured I’d do my little bit to promote them too.

Firstly, there was a piece in the Observer yesterday on The Crimson Wing, Disney’s first natural history film in over 40 years. The article focuses very strongly on the environmental message of the film, which is great as the edit I’ve seen treats the issue of the pollution of Lake Natron in a way that’s almost too subtle for my mind. It’s an amazing piece of work, shot over almost two years, and deserves your patronage.

Next, an article last week on the Guardian focussed on the latest installation from The Wilson Sisters. This must have been a blast to make, as Jane and Louise were given full access to the Kubrick Archive in their search for material pertaining to Aryan Papers, the film he never made despite months of intensive research. I’ve worked with the Wilsons for years, and find everything they do to be atmospheric and deeply involving. I’m a bit of a fan, so to able to work with them, and to find that they are charming, down to earth and funny is a huge bonus. This looks like it’s going to be a good one. Get your asses to the BFI this February.

Finally, check out Science and Islam tonight on BBC Four (or later through the iPlayer) as I worked on the second episode. A smart and thought-provoking series that’s well worth checking out.

There. I’m done showing off now…

Code Grey

At last, it’s done. More to come, including the making of, but for now just enjoy this. Also on the short film page, but I figured a straight up post might get more attention.

The 2008 Straight 8. Best crew ever, best idea ever, best actors ever, best film ever. Everyone involved in this nugget of cinematic history is a genius of the highest order, as well as being wildly sexy and drop dead glamourous.

A black and white film about colour. Nuff said.

Thoughts on The Year Of Change

I thought I’d wait until we were safely past the random celebration of a random date in an outdated calendar (hope you all enjoyed the leap second) before posting my musings on what I have been calling The Year Of Change. I’m not even going to mention the state of the global finances, the regime change in Washington, or the re-evaluation of Andrew Sachs’ career into the role of a sweet old thing with a saucy grand- daughter.

No, just on a very personal level it’s been a wild ride. The company I worked for no longer exists, and I am busy on a fairly high profile long term project. I put up a proper website, with a promise of a lot more writing (yes, I know blogging is displacement activity, why do you think I gave the site that particular title?) Clare changed jobs. So did several of my close friends. One mate saw his company bought put by a private investment firm. Two people very close to me went through painful seperations and moved back in with their parents. Two friends announced marriage plans. Two others got married secretly. Three others, one of whom I would not have expected, announced upcoming parenthood. Oh, and Mum and Dads’ cat was run over.

Seriously turbulent times. Five years of change crammed into one tumultuous twelvemonth. I guess surviving upheaval makes you stronger, but I really hope that this year we get slightly more solid foundations. Otherwise, how can we rebuild what has been lost, or build on what we have gained?

The image of the year for me is one that was used during the blackest part of WW2, and began popping up on tshirts and posters this year. I offer it in lieu of any decent advice.

I remember a conversation I had with my mate Kevin back at the turn of the century, where we considered what we were, the state of the industry and our chances for the future. We considered the matter thoughtfully, over more than a several pints of IPA. And we came to the conclusion that, like the Chinese curse, we would be living in interesting times.

I hate it when we’re right sometimes.

To all of you, oh Readership, I wish you a dull and uninteresting 09.