Showing posts with label Black Sabbath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Sabbath. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 May 2017

Food, Music, Food, Music, Food, Music... Ad Infinitum

Yotam Ottolenghi’s chicken and prawn gumbo.
Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. 

If you read my previous post you will understand why I have chosen this Yotam Ottolenghi's recipe tonight. In his latest column in The Guardian, Yotam waxed lyrical about his love for the cuisine of New Orleans, which he found both complex and cryptic. As an Ottolenghi enthusiast myself, I don't need much encouragement to follow the master. I will be cooking this dish this coming weekend. 

Chicken and prawn gumbo

4 chicken thighs, skin on and bone in
Salt and black pepper
60ml vegetable oil
70g plain flour
3 garlic cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
1 large onion, peeled and finely diced 
2 green peppers, deseeded and finely diced
2 celery sticks, finely diced
1½ tbsp Cajun spice blend (make your own or buy ready-made)
300g peeled raw prawns 
1 litre chicken stock
2 tbsp tomato paste
200g smoked pork belly (or smoky bacon), cut into 2cm pieces
200g cooked basmati rice (ie, made from about 80g uncooked rice)

Season the chicken with a quarter-teaspoon of salt and a generous grind of black pepper. On a medium flame, heat a tablespoon of oil in a large, heavy-based pan for which you have a lid, lay in the chicken thighs skin-side down and fry for four to five minutes, until golden brown. Turn the thighs, cover the pan, reduce the heat to medium and cook for 10 minutes, checking once or twice that the chicken isn’t sticking or burning (there should be enough fat in the pan for this not to happen). Transfer the chicken to a plate, leaving the fat in the pan (you should have about two tablespoons).
Add another three tablespoons of oil to the pan and warm gently on a medium heat. Add the flour, whisk to a smooth paste, then cook, whisking often, for 15-20 minutes, until the roux turns into a dark chocolate-coloured paste. Add the garlic, onion, peppers, celery and spice blend, and cook for five minutes, stirring often. Roughly chop five prawns, add to the pan and cook for five minutes, then pour in the stock, 350ml water and the tomato paste. Stir in the smoked pork and a teaspoon of salt, then leave the gumbo to simmer, stirring occasionally, for 20 minutes more. Meanwhile, remove the skin from the chicken thighs and tear the flesh off the bones in rough 4-5cm chunks.
Once the gumbo has simmered for 20 minutes, stir in the chicken, cook for 10 minutes more, then add the remaining prawns and cooked rice. Check the seasoning, simmer for a final three minutes, until the prawns are just cooked, and serve hot.
This is heavenly food from New Orleans. So, the first melody has to be Dixieland proper. Stand to one side because the saints go marching in, led by the one and only, Mr Louis Armstrong.



That gumbo is thick and filling. That's the way I want my music tonight. Preferably with a bass-driven helping and a guitar-led consistency. Enter Black Sabbath's Paranoid.




Food so exotic makes want to explore the same in music. I love Soapkills and their laid-back sound.




We go as we came. With Armstrong. I have never included the same musician twice in this section. There is enough music to go around. But, for some reason this recipe has given me the New Orleans bug and I cannot resist another dose of good ol' Dixieland. Enjoy.



Next post: "Thoughts in Progress", to be published on Saturday 13th May at 6pm (GMT)

Sunday, 22 May 2011

Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music

Let's be clear about Donald Trump's decision to bow out of the presidential race. I don't buy his "I need to spend more time with my business empire" line. I sincerely believe that his change of direction only came when 'The Donald' bought a proper mirror recently and for the first time in years, he took a long and hard look at himself on it. He freaked out. Got the shock of his life. I mean, have you seen the guy's barnet? It defies logic, let alone gravity.

Alternatively, we could say that Obama's latest double slam dunk trumped the Trumpster. First the White House's incumbent produced his long-coveted birth certificate. And on top of that he even showed a clip of the moment when he first came into this world to a jam-packed audience at the recent correspondents' dinner. Actually, no, that was just a scene from 'The Lion King'. But, heck, these days, guys like Donald will believe anything.

The second blow to DT's presidential aspirations, was Bin Laden's death. Just as Obama's ratings were on the slide, into the picture steps the most wanted terrorist on earth and voilà, as if boosted by a shot of political Viagra, up go the points. I imagine a conversation between Obama and Trumpsie where the former tells the latter: "Take that, buddy, that's how you win back voters. And here's my barber's number. Don't worry, it's on me."

This whole birth certificate issue, though, is not to be scoffed at. Reading recently a terrific essay on lies in Prospect magazine by the philosopher Julian Baggini, I realised how gullible we, human beings, can be sometimes and how far the consequences of a well-fabricated lie can reach. I also came to the conclusion, like Baggini, I think, that being mendacious is part of our DNA, a trait that occasionally comes to our aid in difficult situations. An uncomfortable truth, I know, but a truth, nonetheless.

Baggini doesn't just write about lying, but also about authenticy. If telling porkies is complex, he avers, so is truth. At some point he states that "I could promise right now to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The problem is that sometimes telling the truth is not the point, telling the whole truth is impossible, and there may be things other than the truth that matter too." That's why Obama refused to be part of the birth certificate charade. Because it wasn't about convincing US citizens that he was one of them, but not wanting to become an easy target for the Republicans. First, it's the certificate, and then, what else? Show us proof that Sasha and Malia are your real daughters? Even with Bin Laden dead, the opposition still wants to see the photos. This is not about verisimilitude, but about scapegoating.

Julian provides plenty of good examples of how truth and lies cohabit in modern society. There's the 'estate agent truth', a concept with which some of us will be familiar. The 'expert' highlights the property's virtues, whilst keeping its flaws well hidden. I particularly liked Bagginni's explanation about the existence of two codes when dealing with the law: a legalistic one and a moral one. What is remarkable is that, away from the courts, in real life we still prefer to use the legalistic way of thinking more often than we'd like to believe. Again, this is the bane of politicians everywhere: what am I permitted to say and how will it affect my career?

Where I disagree with Julian is in his defense of Bill Clinton. Baggini writes "That helps explain why one of the most famous 'lies' of recent decades is not a lie at all, but objectionable nonetheless: Bill Clinton’s famous 'I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky.' As many people have pointed out, to a Southern Baptist, this could indeed be interpreted as being strictly true. 'Sexual relations' is, in many parts, a euphemism for coitus, not any other sexual acts between two people. If this is so, then Clinton was accurate only in the legal sense, not in Williams’s",

Er... well, no. Clinton was the president of the US of A. He was not just accountable to voters in Arkansas but also to the American electorate as a whole. What he did in the White House with Monica 'Blue Dress' Lewinsky was sex. Whether it was just petting, oral intercourse, or full-blown-on-the-desk coitus, it was sex. He wasn't just being insincere, he lied.

However, I do agree with Julian that that there are a number of reasons why lying is not always wrong and why telling always the truth can get us in trouble. Can you imagine one of the contestants in the US Apprentice pointing at Donald Trump's quiff and shouting out: You, unruly, rebellious tuft. You are not part of the team. In fact, you've let the team down, or rather left it behind. I'm sorry, but, you're fired!

© 2011

Next Post: ‘Living in a Bilingual World’, to be published on Wednesday 25th May at 11:59pm (GMT)



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