Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Postscript
By way of a postscript on St Paul's, it so happens that a few days previously I had visited the Brompton Oratory, another basilcan church with a lot of decoration. Rather to my surprise, Brompton seemed rather dowdy on that occasion, while St Paul's looked very flash and grand a few days later. Perhaps the brown marble at Brompton is done no favours by the midday sun, whereas the white and gold at St Paul's did well. Also noticed that the interior of the central dome was a painting of the interior of a dome, an effect we saw earlier versions of at Florence last year. But I think the Florentines got it off rather better, with a better join between the ornamental masonry and the paintings of ornamental masonry. To the point that one was not always sure where one ended and the other started, at least not at first glance. I don't recall seeing a trick of this sort in a modern building; seems a bit dated somehow. Something which people proud of their newly found ability to paint in perspective might do, an ability which our world of jack the drippers and twombles is less interested in.
We were entertained at tea today by wondering about the premium grade ham we had procured from Mr S. The packet informed us that the ham had been formed from leg meat of pig, cooked and cured. Or perhaps cured then cooked. So the question was, what is the maximum number of pigs involved in any one packet of ham? Is this number a KPI for their meat packers? Is ham from Mr S. a blended product like tea or flour, where the ham you are eating might come from an indetirminate number of pigs from an indetirminate number of countries? There are food products which confess to being the product of more than one country but I cannot bring an example to mind.
But what does come to mind is that the continentals are, or at least were, more honest about this sort of thing. If you buy ham in Spain, you see the stuff being taken off what is definately the leg of a pig. There might even be a trotter, just to be really sure about it. More complicated products, like ham formed from leg meat, are sold as sausage. There is also the point that their ham might be cured but not cooked.
And then there was the engaging recipe taken from one of the free newspapers that litter our trains and streets, described as hearty Swedish meatballs. Take 60g of breadcrumbs and 120ml of double cream. 60g of butter and one onion, chopped. 200g of beef and 200g of lamb, both minced. Bits, bobs, e-numbers and the like. Then another 200ml of double cream just to be on the safe side. The result we are advised is enough to feed four. Perhaps it all sounds much heavier when it is done in grams as I do remember actually eating something which must have been built on the same lines in a workmen's cafe I came across once in California, with the addition of cheese somewhere along the line and served in something the shape, if not the texture and taste, of a baguette. Seemed OK at the time, and made up for the disappointment of having worked out that the South Park I had just walked around - a thin green park surrounded on three sides by houses - was not the South Park then famous on television for adolescents.
Today's factoid is laddered. That is to say I have just discovered that scaffolders now go in for a special sort of ladder. Very tall and rather wide, with thin treads and thin sides, these last being pink or yellow. Have tried to find the proper word for the sides of a ladder; one would think there would be one, but all Mr G. can come up with is a US patent which talks about steps and struts. Not impressed by struts. But presumably the point of the ladders is that they are very light; much lighter than the wooden things which used to be the norm in the days when I used to climb up such things. Would probably chicken out with vertigo if I tried it now.
But then Mr G. is not all powerful. Today I received an advertisement from the BFI for an Iranian love story. A very arty film, based on a story much older than Romeo and Juliet. Mr G. in his wisdom saw fit to decorate the sides of the e-mail with advertisements for things Iranian, some of them in what I took to be Iranian script. In amongst these advertisements was an advertisement for cat food. Not clear what that was doing there at all. Would I be pleased if I was the Mr Cat-Food who had paid to be advertised to discerning potential customers with an interest in cats? And to be fair to Mr G., the decoration on the side of my email was text in form. No pictures, little colour and no loud fonts. Maybe this will gradually change over the years as the company matures and becomes more interested in revenue stream than was perhaps the case when the founding fathers set out.
# posted by Jim @ 10:55 AM 
