pumpkinstrokemarrow

But I had taken precautions, precautions in the form of half a tenderloin from the Manor Green Road butcher. So for supper, coarsely chop tenderloin and simmer with three ounces of pearl barley, three pints of water and four chopped sticks of celery, for an hour. Add 7 ounces of finely slivvered white cabbage for the last five minutes and serve. Excellent stuff which prompted a discussion of why it is that very few restaurants or pubs can manage this sort of thing. Is it that the punters don't want it? Is it that the stuff neither stands nor boils in the bag very well? Is it a question of branding? Can't let some fresh out of cook school pub chef free lance with our carefully crafted menu. The only restaurant which I can think of which comes near to home cooking (Portuguese style) is the Estrella in Vauxhall, which I imagine is an independent, run by the resident owner. No brand managers to please.

Finished up with the third and final episode of Branagh's Hamlet. Marred by the last scene, where Branagh lost the plot when swinging off the chandelier. There was also a sense of sprawl, which together with the length of the thing is presumably why the other three DVDs opted for the short story version. Cutting out anything which did not bear on the story line or the love interest.

Woke up this morning to resume the paused Iliad from Pope, the one with the interesting pencil annotations. See 25th July. First thought was that there was a great deal of violence. Second thought was that T. E. Lawrence, who might be thought to understand such things, thought (in the introduction to his translation) that the Odyssey was the product of someone who smelt more of the ink pot than of the camp fire. A scholarly affair. So on the assumption that the Homer of the Odyssey and him of the Iliad are the same person, the violence of the Iliad is that of an arm chair rather than an actual warrior. Nevertheless, there is much talk of spears piercing livers, hearts, necks & etc. There is also much talk of bravery, cowardice and fear. So even in a warrior culture, where the aristos at least are bred to war, you can't rely on them keeping their pecker up through thick and thin. Sometimes they bottle it and get themselves speared from behind for their pains. Very shameful way to go. Sometimes they blame the gods. When the gods are backing them, for whatever reason of divine caprice, their spirit is high and they can take on anyone. When the gods desert them, they can do nothing.

A fair bit of the action revolves around the winner of some combat à deux stripping the arms and armour from the loser, to be hung up in winner's tent as trophies. Also because such things were very valuable. But the chaps on the loser's side made it a point of honour to stop the winner doing this. And so it went on. I imagine that valuable point remained true after the Battle of Hastings. You didn't chuck all the arms and armour in the pit along with the bodies of the enemy. Ridiculously wasteful. Strip them first. You might show a bit more respect to your own lot.