499: 24, 11 years after

Just a quick post. I haven't got time to be writing blog posts and such nonsense what with all these episodes of 24 I've got to be watching. See, despite this programme starting eleven years ago, and me having heard so much good stuff about it, from friends, and from Charlie Brooker (whose words on Deadwood lead me to the best TV programme ever), I had never watched a single episode. The other day on a whim, I signed up for a free one month trial to Netflix (a kind of Spotify for film and TV) and was disappointed to discover it is mostly shit. Their are lots of crappy American comedies for stoned teenage dudes and people on dates getting a lovely little fumble up the jumper, and a small selection of mostly shit stand-up.

Really the only two things on Netflix that I have wanted to watch are 24 and Spongebob Squarepants. Both great, and Netflix is free for the first month. Anyway, I gave the first episode of 24 a tentative try on, I think, Friday night, and since then I have been completely gripped. Every second is tense, there is literally no downtime from the action. I really need to try and get in about twenty minutes sleep between now and work. Maybe a bit more than twenty minutes would be better, but Jack Bauer doesn't need sleep, and his job looks quite a bit more difficult than mine. Rarely does my day consist of kidnapping colleagues who may or may not be conspiring to kill me, my family and a famous politician. I always get two fifteen minute breaks and an hour for lunch. Poor overworked Jack Bauer doesn't get that. The only down time he gets is a sit-down in the back of a bullet proof limo, but even then he is threatening to force a wet towel down the throat of some crooked businessman.

Spongebob Squarepants is good, but it neglects cliffhangers and genuine peril. For that reason I have yet to find myself watching episode after episode without breaking for drinks and toilets. I'm only up to 4pm on the first day (series) of 24, so, yeah... end of blog... I really must be off now.

240: impulse buy, impulse blog

So, in the last post I picked on the silly musical offerings of a rich little Californian child, and by doing so I jumped on a bandwagon just as pathetic and guilty as the system it mocks.  What of it?  That’s what critics do; they bully easy targets and piss on the creative aspirations and efforts of others, while simultaneously offering nothing themselves.  Food critics are treated like kings at the best restaurants in the world, dining at the expense of their magazine or publisher, and all they can do is poo-poo the food and moan about the jus or the delicious food being inedible slop. 

Music critics slag off whatever isn’t popular and big up whatever is popular without ever offing an original thought and having desperately failed at some point earlier in an attempt to become a musician themselves.  People slag off the rich and successful motivated by their own inability to become rich and successful.  Do I want to be one of those people?  Unfortunately I am already, and there is little I can do to wipe out the critic within my personality. 

What I can do though is sometimes write about things I love instead of things I hate.  I don’t know why more people don’t do that.  Maybe if Frankie Boyle tried it he might come across as less of a cunt; just a thought.  So anyway, what can I write about today?  It’s got to be something quick, because I have to get out of bed v v soon.  I have a kitchen to tidy, a meal to begin preparing and a wedding fair to go to.  That’s it: food!  God, I love food!

Everyone knows that they stick the chocolate by the till in corner shops and supermarkets to entice the impulse buy.  When you have spent an hour traipsing around Tesco getting more and more hungry, filling the trolley with greater and greater variety of crisps, snacks, pies, and puddings, it’s possible Mr. Tesco might just be able to swindle an extra 50p out of you with a tempting Double Decker.  But what kind of impulse buys might you see in one of Central Manchester’s many Chinese supermarkets?

While paying for my sweet chilli sauce, soy sauce, instant pad Thai noodles, natto, and fresh limes, I noted a mysterious object beside the till.  I picked up the round plastic box and peered at the solid white mass inside.  Turnip cake, the lady at the till informed me, it’s very nice.  And believing her, and having never tried turnip cake before, I had to buy it.  No two ways about it.

turnip cake and a daikon, yesterday

fried turnip cake and bamboo with pickled ginger and chili, yesterday

Upon returning home I googled it and discovered it’s not actually made of turnip.  It is made with daikon, a mild flavoured radish popular in Japan.  On a few occasions I have made my own delicious daikon fritters, and regularly used them in big pot roasts while living in Osaka.  Daikon are often found in supermarkets and Asian shops under the name mooli.

Turnip cake is a popular dim sum dish and can be eaten as is or sliced and fried to give it a crispy texture.  I fried mine, discovering it was full of tiny little shrimp of the sort so delicious in Morecambe Bay Potted Shrimps.  I ate my turnip cake with some fried bamboo shoots and pickled ginger and red chilli.  Even if I wanted to I couldn’t slag this off.  The turnip cake was amazing and is definitely going back on my shopping list.

So there was a bit of positivity, a good review of turnip cake.  All I could really think to say was it was delicious.  I am in a rush to finish this post, and getting hungrier every second.  Next time I write something about food I’ll take my time over it.  Erm... good bye.