Bad Meals, North Roxbury and Woody

It’s always good to pick up my iPad and see that my scheduled post has been successfully posted but the next task is to start thinking about a new one for next week. What can I write about? Has anything interesting happened to me? Have I read a great book or watched something good on TV? No? Well, that’s me up the creek without a paddle then.

It’s cold, in fact it’s bloody cold and it’s no secret that I hate the cold. I could write about the cold I suppose but then I’ve done that before. This is my 695th post so it’s no surprise that a lot of what comes to mind I’ve actually already written about.

I’ve not done anything particularly interesting lately worth writing about. As usual I’ve been dining out at a number of restaurants. As I’ve mentioned in my introductory page, dining out is one of the great experiences of life, especially for someone like me who is perhaps in the evening of his life. I’m not the sporty or athletic type, I’m more of a quieter, more relaxed type of guy.

One disappointing aspect of dining out recently was having a really poor meal at not one but two of my favourite restaurants. A restaurant I suppose is only as good as its chef and until these two restaurants gets themselves new chefs they will have to make it through life without my custom. I really do hate getting a sub-standard meal, it just really ruins my evening. After one meal last week we were going on to our usual pub quiz and to make up for the bad food I ordered a portion of cheesy chips to go with my pint. The cheesy chips weren’t that great after all and nothing, not even the winning of the quiz (actually a joint win, we tied with another team) could cheer me up.

When we returned home I picked up my iPad and one of the first items I clicked on was a routine by the comedian Peter Kay about people in a restaurant who complain about the food to themselves but smile at the waiter and tell him everything is ok. Won’t be coming here again they say when he has gone. That is probably the essence of being English. To be fair, I am quite happy to send food back when I can’t eat it but I just try and muddle through when it just isn’t very exciting.

What else have I done lately? Well, as usual I read quite a lot. I’ve recently finished a book by Mia Farrow called What Falls Away. It’s an autobiography that was really interesting and very well written. I particularly liked her memories of her youth in California with her mother and father and family. Her father was a film director, John Farrow and her mother was an actress who was most famously Jane to Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan. The family lived at 809 North Roxbury Drive, Beverley Hills, an exclusive area of Hollywood and it turns out a whole lot of famous people lived on that road. Her next door neighbours were the Roaches, the family of Hal Roach, a producer who was at the centre of the silent comedies of the early part of the motion picture boom. Other neighbours were Lucille Ball, Jack Benny, Peter Falk (Columbo) Ginger Rogers and in later years, Madonna.

In the latter part of the book Mia talks mostly about Woody Allen with whom she started a relationship with in 1980. I’m a huge fan of Woody and his films. The two met in 1979 and were introduced to each other by Michael Caine. Woody invited her to his New Year’s Eve Party and later, in April of 1980, Mia received a call from his secretary asking if Mia would like to meet Woody for lunch.

Mia builds up an affectionate picture of Woody and gives the reader some interesting anecdotes. Woody may look in his films as though he just throws any old thing on to wear but in real life he is super keen about his wardrobe. According to Mia he pored over Vogue magazine and many of his suits were tailor made for him.

When he came to stay at Mia’s summer house he refused to use the shower so Mia brought in a builder and had the whole thing redone to his requirements and guess what, he still wouldn’t shower there, even though he brought his own shower mat along.

Woody had a long retinue of doctors for each of his many ailments and kept their phone numbers on him at all times. He also had a thermometer on his person and when he was feeling unwell would take his temperature every few minutes.

Despite their relationship the two never married or even lived together. They both had apartments on opposite sides of Central Park in New York and the two would blink their lights and wave to each other across the park.

Woody never seemed to be interested in her large family of children, most of whom were adopted. In 1985 Mia adopted newborn baby girl Dylan. Woody appeared to find Dylan irresistible and Mia felt that this had been a breakthrough, that he was finally beginning to interact with her children. Sadly things take a darker tone here and Mia began to feel Woody’s interest in Dylan was more of an obsession.

Later, he takes an interest in Soon-Yi, another of Mia’s adopted daughters and by then a teenager. Mia is shocked when she finds Woody has become involved with Soon-Yi in a wholly inappropriate way and later is horrified when she begins to feel Dylan has been abused.

This of course is only Mia’s side of the story. Did Woody abuse Dylan? The authorities seemed to think not but in a later custody hearing they declined to give Woody visitation rights. Woody married Soon-Yi in 1997 and the couple adopted two children.

Although I love Woody Allen’s films, this book made me look at Woody in a completely different light.

Just lately I’ve been taking a long look at my blogs and I’ve generally been a little disappointed. Not by the content but after quite a few years as a blogger I was hoping to have a lot of followers and readers, sold lots of copies of my books and perhaps even made a little income from my work. I sometimes look at my stats on Google analytics as well as those on WordPress itself and wonder what more could be done to gain a larger readership. Interestingly, almost as soon as I had those thoughts, my stats took on a huge boom and I had a weekend of incredible stats, mostly coming from the USA. Why should Americans be interested in my blog posts? Well, I could also ask why is a guy from the north of England so interested in the USA? I have a great interest in Hollywood, US politics, US TV shows, the city of New York so if I’m interested in all that then why shouldn’t Americans be interested in the things that I write about?

A message appeared on my iPad from Google Analytics to tell me about a huge ‘spike’ in my readership. Well, I did run an advertisement on WordPress. I had a budget limit of $35 and about 36 hours later I received a message telling me that my ad had finished as I had hit my budget limit. Of course that could also mean I’ve sold a few extra books this month.

Wait a minute, hang on while I check my Amazon sales page!


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My Life in 5 Meals

That may sound like an odd title for a blog post but I actually pinched it from the BBC website before adding a small but subtle change. I was scanning through the news and right at the bottom of the page I saw something about My Life in 5 Dishes. It was actually a BBC podcast series in which several celebs are interviewed and asked to name 5 meals that somehow relate to their lives. One episode which I partially listened to was Nigella Lawson talking about elements of her life including her mother who had various eating disorders and died when Nigella was young. A dish she used to make was a sort of chicken stew and Nigella used to make the same dish for her family which in turn brought back memories of her mother.

(Click here to listen to the BBC podcast)

Anyway, that’s enough about Nigella, time to crack on with my five dishes.

Boiled Eggs

Yes I know boiled eggs is a rather simple dish but actually it’s the first meal, apart from cereal and tomato soup, that I ever actually made myself rather than just putting cornflakes in a dish and adding milk or opening a can of soup and heating it up.

I’ve always liked boiled eggs, not only because it’s the first thing I ever made for myself but also because I just like eggs. I prefer my boiled eggs soft but not runny although like a lot of the things I make myself, they don’t always turn out the way I want them to. Still, I like eggs soft or hard so even if I overdo them, I’ll still enjoy my eggs. Two minutes and fifty seconds is my optimum boiling time but I tend to be slow in putting the toast in and so usually at the two minutes fifty deadline I’m still buttering my toast and so my eggs will be overdone. (Note to self: start the toast off sooner!)

Liz makes great boiled eggs. She usually takes the eggs out of the fridge in advance and brings them up to room temperature by popping them in a pan of warm water for a while which also stops them cracking in the pan.

Egg on toast with beans and a sausage

One of the reasons I like this dish is that when I was a bus driver, I always used to have this meal in our canteen. The canteen used to have a breakfast special which was egg, bacon, sausage and either beans or tomatoes and a slice of toast, all for a very cheap one British pound. This was of course back in the late 70s and early 80s. I used to find though that the breakfast special didn’t quite fill me up so that’s when I developed the egg on toast with beans dish. There was a time when I didn’t like my egg to touch my beans and the canteen staff used to make me a barrier with the sausage between the beans and the egg which they all seemed to think was quite funny. After a few trials with just beans on toast I decided to go adventurous and have the beans on top of the egg and then I found I really liked it that way, especially when I threw in a sausage on the side.

Here’s a sort of odd footnote though. Yesterday I had egg, bacon, sausage and beans for breakfast and guess what, I used the sausage as barrier to stop the beans spreading all over the plate to my egg!

Sunday Lunch

I’ve always loved the great British Sunday roast. My mother used to make a really lovely roast beef dinner. The beef always had that wonderful melt in your mouth texture. I once asked her how she made it and she told me she roasted the beef in a casserole dish with a little stock or water at a high heat for 20 minutes and then lowered the heat down and cooked the meat very slowly. These days my favourite for Sunday dinner is a gammon joint. Liz cooks it slowly in a pan of water and dried peas and the result is lovely. Throw in some roast spuds, some peas, some carrot and turnip or swede, some Yorkshire pudding and gravy and you can’t go wrong. Just thinking about it brings back the memories of childhood, huddling up in front of the fire watching television and of course if mum called out that dinner was ready my dad took great delight in switching off the TV while we ate.

Later my brother and I would be back on the rug in front of the fire drinking tea and watching some old black and white film while Bob, our family dog, tried his best to push past us and get as close as possible to the fire.

Chicken Curry

In my late teens, when my friends and I used to go out, we’d sometimes end up at a Chinese restaurant in a village called Gatley. A long time ago Gatley used to be a traditional country village but these days it has been caught up in an urban sprawl and is not quite the same as it used to be. I always used to plump for chicken Maryland which was probably the only non Chinese dish on the menu and was just chicken in breadcrumbs. After tasting some of the dishes my friends were ordering I one day took the plunge and ordered a Chinese chicken curry with fried rice and today it’s one of the only two dishes I tend to order in Chinese restaurants, either that or chicken with green peppers and black bean sauce.

Not so long ago I went back to Gatley and had a walk round and even made a little video. One of the former pubs there is now a Tesco supermarket. A café I used to go in was still a café but seemed to be permanently closed. The Prince of Wales, the pub where I had my very first pint of beer is still there. Another pub, The Horse and Farrier is just a few minutes walk further on. Once, when I was in the 5th form at school, my friends and I nipped inside for a lunchtime pint. We left our jackets and briefcases outside and had just ordered a few pints when who should walk in but our physics teacher, the highly unpopular Mr Farragher. Luckily there was a back door that led to the beer garden so we legged it out the back way, picked up our jackets and bags and quickly left.

After that we used to refer to the pub as the Horse and Farragher!

Back in the 80s after a night out in Manchester, we would sometimes pop into a place called the Plaza Café in the city centre. They served curry but they only had three types, mild, hot and suicide. I can still hear one of my friends calling out for ‘three suicides please!’

Chilli Con Carne

I wasn’t sure what to choose for my last dish. I’m not a great pizza fan although I do like making a pizza but the quality of my home-made pizza dough is not consistent. Sometimes it’s good and other times it’s just average. I like to serve my pizza with a fresh side salad or coleslaw. I like a lot of Italian dishes these days, particularly spaghetti aglio e olio which is spaghetti with garlic and chilli. Another dish I’ve always enjoyed making is chilli con carne. I like to start it off in a big pan or my old wok and then transfer everything into my slow cooker and serve it later with chips and rice.

Well after all that I’m not sure what to have for tea. Chilli? Well, I should have started that a while ago. Egg on toast with beans? Nah, I had eggs for breakfast. I think I might go for that old favourite, one thing I’ve not mentioned yet. A cheese sandwich!


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Restaurants I have Known and one or two Memorable Meals!

 

Restaurants I have known and one or twoGoing out for a meal has to be one of the great pleasures in life. It’s certainly one of my favourite things to do. There are many things that make for a great dining experience. The food of course is the important factor but it’s not just that. The restaurant and the atmosphere play a big part. The location too, is important and the table, but after the food the most important thing is service.

St Annes and Lytham have some wonderful restaurants embracing various food cultures. There is Anatolia serving Turkish food, The Greek Flame serving, not unsurprisingly, Greek food. The Marrakech has a lovely Moroccan menu. Woks Cooking in Lytham is my favourite Chinese eating house and Ego, also in Lytham serves Mediterranean food with a smile and outstanding service.

One of my all-time favourite meals was at my favourite French restaurant not far from Calais in a place we found on a country road, miles from anywhere. Liz and I stopped there many years ago for an early evening meal. For starters I chose celery soup and Liz ordered the pate.
I was a little disappointed with the rather small dish that was presented to me but then a huge tureen of soup arrived which was wonderful and produced about four small servings, one of which went to Liz while I sampled her pate which was full of rustic flavours and was perfect served with fresh French bread.
The main course was a simple omelette, light and fluffy with a fresh salad and Liz’s fish was lovely with a creamy curry like sauce, unusual for French country cooking.

Another great French restaurant is in Saumur, my favourite French town. Again, I don’t know the name of it and it’s always hard to find, in fact we usually tend to stumble upon it after walking around for a while. It’s a small restaurant that spills out on the pavement and I do so love those three lovely courses that French restaurants serve; starter, main and a cheese course, served with red wine and plenty of crusty bread. There is no rush in a French restaurant and there’s plenty of time to watch life and people pass by as you dine.

IMGA0302Tapas are pretty fashionable in the UK these days and we sampled some lovely tapas at the Blue Note restaurant at the Marina Rubicon in Playa Blanca earlier this year. The highlight was the Canarian potatoes served with mojo sauce, lovely.

Yes, I’ve come a long way as a diner from the Plaza Cafe in Manchester where my friends and I used to call in the early hours of Sunday morning after a late night drinking and chatting up the girls. The Plaza served curry and there were three options: mild, hot, and suicide! Yes, how we used to laugh as we called up “Three suicides please!”

A lot of people seem to think I’m a fast eater. I’m not sure if I am but if that is the case; it surely comes from late night curries like the one above. If you are with six boozed up guys and you want something to eat, you have to grab it and get it on your plate as soon as possible otherwise you might just end up with nothing but a plateful of rice as my friends used to clear the table faster than a horde of locusts.

My one hate of restaurants though is this. Do waiters lie in wait for me to take a big mouthful of food before coming to the table? Many times I’ll try my food then nibble on small portions just in case the waiter approaches. When I finally think, ok, he’s not coming over, I’ll shovel in a good mouthful and out of nowhere a waiter is sure to appear.
“Is everything all right for you sir?”
All I can usually do is nod and try to mime someone enjoying their meal . .


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A French evening In

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I’m coming to end of my three week stay in France now and here in the rural part of the Vendee a night out at a restaurant is pretty much a waste of time. The thing is this; the rural French are not interested in a night out. Friday night at your local restaurant means nothing to them. Lunch however, lunch is a whole new ball game. Lunch in France is twelve till two. Shops close, offices shut. The lunch is all important. Trying to get a table in Lucon our local town is a pretty tall order but come Friday night at seven, take your pick, any table in the house and oh, who’s that at the other table, yes, another couple of Brits!

Tomorrow night’s tea looks like being something like a sandwich as we’ll be packing up so we can make the early ferry next morning from St Malo. Tonight we went Italian; The starter was goats cheese and spinach with chilli oil served with French bread and a nice tomato and onion salad. Main course; stir fried chicken livers with garlic and chilli and green peppers and of course, more French bread. Throw in a lovely garden and patio, some hot vendee sun, some lovely French red wine and the result is an unbeatable dinner for two.

A pretty European collaboration I suppose; Italian food, French bread and wine, and two English tourists!