Lamb (the meat)

The older I get, the more my appetite seems to shrink. I still enjoy both cooking and eating, but my preferences get fewer and fewer. These days I am very happy with the simplest of pasta meals, or a basic mushroom Omelette. 

However, I am still a meat eater, and I do enjoy Chicken, Pork, Beef (if I can afford it), and most of all Lamb.

I'm not talking here of big Legs of Lamb, or Shoulders, but what I consider to be the best cut of all; Breast of Lamb. It is the most flavoursome cut, and is very tender; it also tends to be the cheapest.

This (above) is how it tends to come in the UK; at Sainsbury's anyway. Rolled, wrapped, and 'gentrified'. It looks like a ready to roast joint. All neat and tidy, and wrapped in plastic. Not really how I like to buy it.

This (above) is how I prefer it to come; in an untouched natural lump. I usually cut it into two bits and put one half in the freezer for a later date.

And finally here is how I buy it in France, from my Leclerc supermarket. Again in a lump (as from 'Taj'), but usually as half-sized pieces. 

A short while on the BBQ, a small sprinkling of salt and cumin powder, and I'm in heaven. A side serving of Flageolet Beans, or some Taboulé, completes the perfect Summer meal.

And the best way to eat sliced cutlets of Breast of Lamb? With your fingers of course!

21st C Pirates.

We've all seen them. These masked, black clad, E-bike riders, from distant lands, who scour the streets looking for mobile phones, handbags, and watches. They have become the scourge of our streets. No doubt the man on the right of the photo was just about to lose his phone!

I remember on one occasion, when I was taking Billy for a walk, there were two characters just like these two above, lining up side by side on a quiet street. Suddenly they both took off at a terrifying speed, racing each other; the acceleration was startling. I had no idea that those electric bikes could go so fast.

When these people steal your phone or watch, you wouldn't stand a chance of catching them, they'd be hundreds of yards away before you even knew what had happened.

Personally I think that such people should be arrested BEFORE they commit crimes. Just the wearing of black face masks, gloves, etc, suggests they're up to no good; no-one else goes out dressed like that! Confiscate their bikes and crush them. We all know what they're up to.

Act first, and ask questions later.

 

UK Tomatoes

Before we came away in late May, I planted a couple of Tomato plants in our bijou front garden (about 2 Sq m's).

One was a Roma cooking tomato, and the other was a Marmande type salad tomato. The Roma are really going crazy with lots of ripe fruit, and the other should be ripening just as we return.

I wish now I'd put in more plants, the tiny area could accommodate at least four plants; next year perhaps!

Tomatoes are the one vegetable that EVERYONE should grow. The difference between home grown and shop bought is amazing; they are almost like two different vegs. They grow well in big pots or grow bags. Or if you only have a window box, then the variety 'Tumbler' will grow well. 

Our next door neighbour also grows some. Maybe we'll have our own little two house Horticultural Show, with just one prize for the best Tomato. Perhaps we could encourage the whole street to grow some next year and have a really fun 'Best Tomato' competition in September.

If everyone started growing their own, we might even see an end to those horrible tasteless supermarket fruits. What dreadful things they are.

UNACCEPTABLE (moaning again)

I lived, and worked, in central London during the late 1960's, and in those days scenes such as below simply didn't exist; nor did they exist over the subsequent few decades.

In fact, had someone been found sleeping rough in an Oxford Street doorway, he or she would have been moved-on at once; we used to have 'bobbies on the beat' in those days.

Since the immigrant 'shanty town' in Hyde Park, opposite Park Lane, has finally been demolished (after several years), those same immigrants have simply moved up the road, and are sleeping-rough outside the big John Lewis store. They all seem to have nice white duvets and mattresses, but who is providing them is unclear. I'm sure the up-market store's management team can't be happy with the situation. 

Why have they not been either moved-on, or even deported? What do these people think they're doing? This is a major tourist area, in one of the world's greatest cities.

In Park Lane, the residents of the very expensive apartments overlooking the park complained that the squatters were peeing and pooing all over the place without shame. Eventually they were evicted, and all their rubbish taken away. Now the 40 or so (mostly, I believe, Romanians) have moved into the prestigious Oxford Street, where they spend their daytimes begging (or possibly picking a pocket or two).

These people have to be dealt with AT ONCE, not after lengthy 'enquiries' and hand-wringing. What is happening to central London is unacceptable.

p.s. If planning a trip to Oxford Street, remember NOT to take your mobile phone, your expensive watch, or anything in your pockets. If you intend buying anything keep your credit card in your shoe. A small pocket-sized Pepper Spray should be permanently held in your best squirting hand. This is no joke!

Kevin Ayers, May I? (2003 Remaster)

I first discovered Kevin Ayers at a concert in Guildford in around 1969-ish. It was a promotional tour concert for his album 'Shooting at the Moon' (from which 'May I' comes).

He is probably best known as the 'front man' with Soft Machine (who I always thought a better band than Pink Floyd). He and Syd Barrett later worked together.

This is a nice little song. A good tune, inoffensive lyrics, and with Mike Oldfield on Guitar, David Bedford on Keyboard, and the inimitable Lol Coxhill on Sax.

Ayers died back in 2013 here in Southern France. He was just 68, and died in his sleep (that's all we need to know). RIP.

Boo Hoo.

It really pains me to throw away all our Quinces, but they are beginning to fall, and I can't mow over big solid Quinces. Also, we can't leave them on the ground for the gardener to clear-up later. I am picking them one by one, and filling the wheelbarrow.

My mother used to make the most delicious Quince Jelly. It was a lengthy process, but it produced the most fragrant and beautifully coloured jelly. As a child it was my absolute favourite.

Sadly, these days, I have neither the urge nor the patience to make Quince jelly myself. It's just too much of a task. We used to cut them in quarters lengthwise, and roast them with Pork or Chicken, and they were delicious, but I can't even be bothered to do that any more. Cutting into them is like cutting into a block of iron.

So, they will go on the compost, and eventually be returned to the soil.

 

Church News.

 

Just before we came away to France, we received news that our local church priest, Father Dominic, was leaving. This came not long after hearing that his sidekick, Father Pete, was off to work in Cambridge.

Father Dominic knew that I wasn't a church-goer, but we always got on very well together, with a mutual love of dogs, and a concern for the local community. He knew that I only attended once a year, and that was for the Christmas Carol Service. I've always enjoyed singing carols.

Since this news, we haven't really heard who will be taking-over. I've seen the names 'Father Chris and Father David' mentioned but I don't know if they are simply 'locums' or are there permanently.

The 'Father' suffix suggests that the church is Catholic. Not at all, it is very much C of E, but, they say, in the Catholic tradition. Make of that what you will! 

Having the church so close, it does play quite a role in our lives. We hear the bells, and we walk through the churchyard on a daily basis. Lady M also occasionally helps-out on Wednesdays by making Tea for those who come to listen to the weekly afternoon music recitals. We also enter Billy in the annual Church Dog Show, side by side with all his friends. We may not be 'believers', but we do take part in the social side of church life.

As for the disappearance of Father Dominic, I don't like CHANGE of this sort, I much prefer that such positions were permanent. I believe he has gone to a new parish in West Sussex; Boxgrove Nr Chichester.

With a Bishop newly setting-up home in our street (who I have yet to meet), and a couple of new Priests in the church itself, I shall have a lot of catching-up to do when I get back.