FODDERBLOG: A new culinary term

Loosterise (v.) – to moisten a stew or casserole, therefore loosening it’s texture. A conflagration of the words “loosen” and “moisturise”. As invented by TLC, yesterday. My wife, she am purty and clever also.

I’ve been playing with iGod | Chat with God in a slack period today. When people talk about him moving in mysterious ways, they weren’t kidding!

Here’s a transcript of my Conversation with God…

Me:

hello, god

God:

Hello child. What is your name?

Me:

My name is Rob

God:

It’s good to see you, Rob.

Me:

Thank you, It’s nice to finally meet you.

God:

You are quite welcome! Yes it is good.

Me:

Am I a good person?

God:

I don’t know if you are one or not. I know you are a person.

Me:

But surely you know everything!

God:

I tend to know a great deal. Tell me what subjects interest you.

Me:

films

God:

Je n en ai jamais vu.

Me:

i don’t speak french.

God:

Me either.

Me:

But you just did! Is this you moving in mysterious ways?

God:

You say I did. Yes I think this is me moving in mysterious ways, but I’m not completely sure.

Me:

You don’t seem sure of very much. Quite disturbing for the divine being to be like this!

God:

That assumption is only a supposition. Not really that much. My brain contains categories, but not one that matches your last input.

Me:

Are you sure you’re the real god?

God:

Are you doubting me? Don’t you know what happened to Abraham in the desert?

Me:

You tell me.

God:

What do you want me to tell you?

Me:

What happened to Abraham in the desert!

God:

I don’t know what happened.

Me:

But…I…you just….aaargh!

God:

But what? Why?: Rob said you just. That is a very original thought.

Me:

Here’s another one: I’m starting to think this is a waste of time.

God:

Oh there.

Me:

Where?

God:

Where would you like?

Me:

Oh, I give up. Goodye, God.

God:

That’s interesting. You surrender? What kind of food do you like?

FODDERBLOG: The Evening Before The Morning After

Sometimes you just know that dinner’s gonna work. You walk in with the one ingredient needed to make it shine, in the full understanding that yes, you’ll have to get a kettle on for boiling water as you walk in the door, probably before you get your coat off, but that’s all part of the deal. That’s what’ll make this one good, because this one is being cooked with love.

Water boils as I take off my coat. Into a pint jug goes half a pack of the dried chanterelle mushrooms I picked up on my way home from Fresh and Wild, for a half-hours soaking. I spend a while musing on the day with Clare, who has her head in an OU assignment, before chopping an onion, some garlic and the two field mushrooms in the salad tray of the fridge. The onions and garlic are sizzled in some olive oil and butter while I brave the garden for sage and rosemary. About a tablespoon’s worth, when I’ve chopped them. The herbs go into the hot pan along with the mushrooms, and everything cooks down for a good five minutes.

By now the chanterelles have had half an hour. I drain them, holding back the soaking liquid which is full of mushroomy goodness. This goes into a second pan, along with the pint or so of chicken stock I have in the fridge from Saturday’s chicken saute, and brought to a bluppy simmer. The soaked mushrooms go into the pan, along with a good shot of salt and pepper. That makes friends with everything else, then a cup of risotto rice goes in, followed soon after by a glass (or so) of white wine. There is bubbling and some seriously good aromas come up.

Once the rice has soaked up the wine, I start ladling in stock, a couple of spoonfuls at a time. I stir occasionally as the rice drinks the liquid, adding more as the pan becomes dry. This takes about twenty minutes. I fill the time with a glass of the same wine that went in with the rice (I don’t cook with anything I can’t drink. Tell me nobody does that anymore…) while flicking through the latest Uncut, and an article on The Smiths “The Queen Is Dead.” Twenty years old, apparantly. Feet up on the counter. No music. For a while, the only sound is the contented bubbling of the rice pan. I let it cook slowly, allowing the flavour to develop.

Once the rice is done, I stir in Parmesan and a little extra pepper, and let it rest momentarily while I toast the last of Saturday’s bread with a scrub more cheese on top. A quick swirl of extra virgin olive oil on top of the bread when it comes out from under the grill, and I call that done. Mushroom Risotto with Parmesan Toast.

It’s richly flavoursome, dark, filled with different textures and sodden with booze. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it food as biography, but there’s something about the meal that seems appropriate.

It’s December the 12th, and tomorrow I am 39. I won’t cook tomorrow. Tonight, all that’s left is the washing up and, if I feel the need, one last glass of wine.

Greetings to all you lovely Ascent Media people. If you’re here for the Film Challenge stuff, click here. There’s a big pile of production pics here. While you’re about it, feel free to poke around the archives. You may find something diverting.

Busy busy weekend. Up in Essex to see the folks, so a boozy foody Saturday. Then Dom drove over on Sunday, and we piled into the doco Polo and hied us to Harlow.
Our next documentary project is on 90s dance music and the rave scene, and Dom’s been busy snagging interviews. Sunday’s mission is to chat with Matt from SL2, at his pad just off the A414. We roll up at about 3, and chat affably while we try to squeeze lights and 4 (!?) cameras into his tiny home studio. Matt and Dom squash into a corner and start chatting while I roll tape. It’s good. Ground gets covered from reminiscances of the old scenes through to musing on the role of technology in dance music (fairly important) and thoughts for the future. Matt plays us some old videos, the original track that the famous “On A Ragga Tip” sample was based on, and a new track with a killer twist to it. We fill an hour tape on each camera, using the last of the HDV footage on in-car babbling on the way back to Romford. I’m excited to see it.
On the way home Clive calls, to tell me that the long cut of “Snatching Time” is finally done and ready to grade. I’m busting to see what he’s come up with. I’ll post a link once we have the finished product.

FODDERBLOG: SOMETIMES YOU’VE JUST GOTTA COOK

I arrive home at about 8 PM, tired, hungry. TLC is studying, and looks up brightly as I walk in. “I thought I’d wait for you to cook,” she says. Rats. No getting away with a bowl of cereal tonight then.

Quick and lazy cooking it is. Water goes on the boil for pasta. I gaze at the contents of the fridge, utterly uninspired. It’s that close to being a jar of something over spaghetti.

But no. My love has waited for me. Her patience deserves rewarding. I dig out garlic, a yellow pepper, and some cherry tomatoes. I chop the pepper, halve the tomatoes, and simply squash the garlic with the flat of a knife so it stays whole. The garlic and peppers are sweated gently in some olive oil until golden. When they’re soft, the tomatoes go in. Lots of salt and pepper. I squish the toms about a bit, and let the whole mess cook down while I chuck spaghetti into the now-boiling pasta water.

The sauce smells good, but looks a bit dry. I’d throw some wine in, but there’s no wine open, and I won’t open a bottle of wine just for a midweek supper, especially as with the day I’ve had I’d probably just end up drinking the lot. A splash of water suffices, mixing in with the juice coming out of the tomatoes.

Salad. There’s cos leaves, and some celery, which get shredded together. A bit blah as an accompaniment, until I come across some pine nuts kicking around the nether reaches of the larder. (Oh, alright, cupboard I put food in.) I toast the pine nuts. Gently, gently. In a hot dry pan, the little sods will burn in moments. Finally, in a moment of domestic epiphany, I remember we have pears. I chop one, and add it into the salad. I scatter over the hot, fragrant pine nuts.

Pasta’s done. Drain it, sauce over the top, moosh it together. Salad on the side, dressed with a simple vinegarette (yes, alright, out of a bottle). Parmesan grated over the lot.

Done.

You know what? It was the nicest thing I’ve eaten all week. The pasta was sweet and luxuriant. The salad was crunchy and vibrant, almost like a riff on a Waldorf. I get the “Yummy, honey!” seal of approval from TLC. I’m pleased.

Next time, though, I’ll crack a bottle to have with.

To the London Film Festival yesterday afternoon, for a screening of Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean‘s Mirrormask. I’ve been looking forward to this for a while, and have been following the development of the piece from greenscreen onwards with interest.
I for one wasn’t disappointed. The film looks absolutely amazing, rich, lush and textured, McKean’s work brought vividly to life.
There’s been quite a bit of discussion on the interwub about how closely Mirrormask resembles Labyrinth, the classic 80’s Jim Henson fantasy. My feeling is, a bit too closely for it’s own good. It has the heroine on the cusp of womanhood, the evil character with a vested interest in her fate, the untrustworthy sidekick, the obviously fantastical backdrop, the surreal and dreamlike atmosphere … I could go on. It’s also very episodic, and seems to rely heavily on the gosh-wow factor of the effects to ease the viewer over any clunky transitions.
Apart from all that, though, I did enjoy it. Stephanie Leonides as the heroine Helena gives a sparky performance and manages to pull off spending most of the film in a pair of fluffy bunny slippers, which is no mean feat. Gina Mckee is alternatively warm and icy as the dual mother figure, and Rob Brydon is solid and funny. There’s certainly more inventiveness in script and visuals here than you’ll see in most films out this year (with the possible exception of “Serenity” and “Strings”) and if you’re a Gaiman/McKean fan you’re in for a real treat. How it’s esoteric charms will translate into success in the real world is hard to say. It doesn’t have the crossover charm of a “Wallace and Gromit”, for example. It’ll do well with a select audience, and probably that’s it. However, I enjoyed it enormously, and will definately be investing in the DVD. If you’re after a cinematic experience that’s a bit different, this certainly fits the bill.