Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Festive nibbles
The last concert of the year was at the Wigmore Hall, the pull being Dvořák's piano quintet in A, but we also got a piano sonata from Janáček and a string quarter from Smetana. The whole being brought to us, appropriately enough, by the Škampa Quartet, assisted by Stephen Hough. All good, but the quintet has never quite achieved the impact when I first heard it, by chance, at the QEH. By coincidence I read in Visser a few days later about having experiences (experiential moments perhaps?) which can never be repeated. One cannot repeat or recreate the wonder of the first occasion; at best one can echo it. Neatly chosen encore in the form of a couple of verses of 'Silent Night'. A seasonal and suitably slight winder down from the heights of the quintet.
The last TLS of the year was a double edition, usually notable for its banality, but this year full of good stuff. So I am reminded that Nabokov deserves to be remembered as more than the chap who wrote the story for 'Lolita' and learned that he was also a world class classifier of butterflies. I shall chase him up in the library.
There was also a sense of running out of time. So there were a number of interesting reviews of what looked like interesting books - but books to which one did not think one should be devoting the time that would be needed to justify purchase. Contrariwise and interestingly, there was a review of 'L'Art français de la guerre', a fat book of which I am near completing the first pass, the one where one does not bother the check all the words which one does not know. I agree with the conclusion - that it seems unlikely that anyone will be reading this book in 30 years time.
Festive fowl has now been reduced to soup for tonight's supper, having been accompanied by two sorts of stuffing - one with gluten and one without - but both seasoned with rather battered sage from the garden and rather small nuts from Horton Lane. I commented at the time of picking how the picking seemed to draw on skills honed during our long hunter gatherer apprenticeship and cracking seemed to do the same. Eyes surprisingly good at picking out small nuts which escaped into the pile of broken shells.
The triple smoked gammon was the business. A dry and flavourful ham. None of that damp saltiness one associates with the cheaper products from supermarkets. The only real failure was the custard sauce which accompanies the Christmas Pud., carefully confected by myself, but which failed to achieve the desired stiffness. Tasted OK, but not quite the same as the real thing. May have been the result of using a measuring tablespoon rather than a real one. We have yet to broach the Christmas Cake.
Festive chocolate for some was provided by Rococo (http://rococochocolates.com/) but which for me was provided by Lidl in the form of chocolate cigars sold under the brand 'J. D. Gross'. A very acceptable alternative to smoking indoors, something which I presently do not do.
We have got through perhaps 3 of the 10kg of brussels sprouts. We have exhausted the supplies of carrots, the supplies of onions are running low and we are down to the last crinkly cabbage, rather a small one. Visit to the depot planned for tomorrow.
The last TLS of the year was a double edition, usually notable for its banality, but this year full of good stuff. So I am reminded that Nabokov deserves to be remembered as more than the chap who wrote the story for 'Lolita' and learned that he was also a world class classifier of butterflies. I shall chase him up in the library.
There was also a sense of running out of time. So there were a number of interesting reviews of what looked like interesting books - but books to which one did not think one should be devoting the time that would be needed to justify purchase. Contrariwise and interestingly, there was a review of 'L'Art français de la guerre', a fat book of which I am near completing the first pass, the one where one does not bother the check all the words which one does not know. I agree with the conclusion - that it seems unlikely that anyone will be reading this book in 30 years time.
Festive fowl has now been reduced to soup for tonight's supper, having been accompanied by two sorts of stuffing - one with gluten and one without - but both seasoned with rather battered sage from the garden and rather small nuts from Horton Lane. I commented at the time of picking how the picking seemed to draw on skills honed during our long hunter gatherer apprenticeship and cracking seemed to do the same. Eyes surprisingly good at picking out small nuts which escaped into the pile of broken shells.
The triple smoked gammon was the business. A dry and flavourful ham. None of that damp saltiness one associates with the cheaper products from supermarkets. The only real failure was the custard sauce which accompanies the Christmas Pud., carefully confected by myself, but which failed to achieve the desired stiffness. Tasted OK, but not quite the same as the real thing. May have been the result of using a measuring tablespoon rather than a real one. We have yet to broach the Christmas Cake.
Festive chocolate for some was provided by Rococo (http://rococochocolates.com/) but which for me was provided by Lidl in the form of chocolate cigars sold under the brand 'J. D. Gross'. A very acceptable alternative to smoking indoors, something which I presently do not do.
We have got through perhaps 3 of the 10kg of brussels sprouts. We have exhausted the supplies of carrots, the supplies of onions are running low and we are down to the last crinkly cabbage, rather a small one. Visit to the depot planned for tomorrow.
# posted by Jim @ 2:03 AM 
