I'm sometimes a bit stuck for side dishes to go with tagines (in addition to the mandatory cous-cous). This week, I think I've just invented moroccatouille. A perfect accompaniment for tagine, b'steeya or any spicy dish (I'm all in favour of multi-cultural cooking). I thought I'd have my first attempt at writing out a recipe to share. The recipe below serves four as a side dish and can be made in about 20 minutes.
Read full article...Monday, 11 June 2012
Sunday, 15 April 2012
A poem for Titanic week
A slight deviation from my usual comic style for a more serious subject...
It was April the tenth in the year of our Lord
Nineteen hundred and twelve, that’s the day
That with over one thousand eight hundred on board
Titanic set off on her way.
Her first port of call was to Cherbourg, to park
For more passengers, dressed in their best
Then to Ireland where even more souls could embark
Before she set off for the west.
Four hedonist days passed without any care
Especially up in first class.
Man, woman and child, they were all unaware
Of events that would soon come to pass.
It was full steam ahead for the liner and crew
Despite many warnings of ice
For that’s what the owners had told them to do
And to take no one else’s advice.
Titanic sped on through the ice and the brine
Executives feeling the need
To show White Star Line was ahead of its time
When it came to both comfort and speed.
It was on that fourth night that the tragedy fell
Nearly midnight when most were asleep
A slow groaning shudder was all to foretell
Of the menace that struck from the deep.
Hardly anyone thought it a dangerous sign
For all had been told it unthinkable
That a liner that size and of modern design
Could ever be thought to be sinkable.
But they didn’t know of the damage below –
Metal plates torn apart just like cardboard
Compartments were breached by the long glancing blow
As the iceberg dragged past down the starboard.
Titanic’s design meant the ship could survive
If water filled four of these rooms
But the gash down her side let the water in five
For the liner, that fifth one spelled doom.
She started to list and to tilt to the bow
The flooding got faster and stronger
To the people on board it was obvious now
She would not stay afloat for much longer.
From that moment onward it must have been manic
Just try to imagine the scene
As those on Titanic were starting to panic
How frightening it must have been.
"Make for the lifeboats!" up went the cry.
"This way. Come on. Follow me."
"Please make haste everyone for we don’t want to die"
"In the depths of an icy cold sea."
But space in the lifeboats was less than a half
Of enough to save everyone’s necks.
Though it seems to us now most excessively daft
White Star felt that they cluttered the decks.
So lifeboat places a meagre resource
And women and children first
That meant for all of the men there of course
Their prospects could not have be worse.
Two thousand odd people, fare paying and staff
Sisters, daughters and mothers
And not enough room in Titanic’s life craft
For the husbands and lovers and brothers.
Meanwhile down below from the third class deck
Escape routes had been blocked
So many souls trying to flee from the wreck
Discovered that doors had been locked.
Over sixty percent was the count who survived
From the toffs and the rich and the peerage
While down below decks ‘twas a mere twenty five
The percentage escaping from steerage.
So fifteen hundred died that night
Though many more could have been saved
If shipping lines had been more bright
About safety on the waves.
A poem for Titanic week
A slight deviation from my usual comic style for a more serious subject...
It was April the tenth in the year of our Lord
Nineteen hundred and twelve, that’s the day
That with over one thousand eight hundred on board
Titanic set off on her way.
Her first port of call was to Cherbourg, to park
For more passengers, dressed in their best
Then to Ireland where even more souls could embark
Before she set off for the west.
Four hedonist days passed without any care
Especially up in first class.
Man, woman and child, they were all unaware
Of events that would soon come to pass.
It was full steam ahead for the liner and crew
Despite many warnings of ice
For that’s what the owners had told them to do
And to take no one else’s advice.
Titanic sped on through the ice and the brine
Executives feeling the need
To show White Star Line was ahead of its time
When it came to both comfort and speed.
It was on that fourth night that the tragedy fell
Nearly midnight when most were asleep
A slow groaning shudder was all to foretell
Of the menace that struck from the deep.
Hardly anyone thought it a dangerous sign
For all had been told it unthinkable
That a liner that size and of modern design
Could ever be thought to be sinkable.
But they didn’t know of the damage below –
Metal plates torn apart just like cardboard
Compartments were breached by the long glancing blow
As the iceberg dragged past down the starboard.
Titanic’s design meant the ship could survive
If water filled four of these rooms
But the gash down her side let the water in five
For the liner, that fifth one spelled doom.
She started to list and to tilt to the bow
The flooding got faster and stronger
To the people on board it was obvious now
She would not stay afloat for much longer.
From that moment onward it must have been manic
Just try to imagine the scene
As those on Titanic were starting to panic
How frightening it must have been.
“Make for the lifeboats!” up went the cry.
“This way. Come on. Follow me.”
“Please make haste everyone for we don’t want to die”
“In the depths of an icy cold sea.”
But space in the lifeboats was less than a half
Of enough to save everyone’s necks.
Though it seems to us now most excessively daft
White Star felt that they cluttered the decks.
So lifeboat places a meagre resource
And women and children first
That meant for all of the men there of course
Their prospects could not have be worse.
Two thousand odd people, fare paying and staff
Sisters, daughters and mothers
And not enough room in Titanic’s life craft
For the husbands and lovers and brothers.
Meanwhile down below from the third class deck
Escape routes had been blocked
So many souls trying to flee from the wreck
Discovered that doors had been locked.
Over sixty percent was the count who survived
From the toffs and the rich and the peerage
While down below decks ‘twas a mere twenty five
The percentage escaping from steerage.
So fifteen hundred died that night
Though many more could have been saved
If shipping lines had been more bright
About safety on the waves.
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
A message for cold callers
Here is my suggested voice-mail welcome message to deter cold callers.
Beep. This is a recording.
I have not bought, nor would I ever buy, payment protection insurance so I am not interested in compensation for the alleged mis-selling of same.
I have not had any accidents recently but, if I had, I would not be seeking compensation. An accident is, by definition, nobody’s fault and the modern trend of immediately seeking compensation after any minor misfortune is an insidious one that serves only to push up all my insurance premiums.
I am not interested in participating in any market survey on any topic, even if you insist that you won’t follow it up by trying to sell me something, because I know you will.
My computer is working fine. I fully understand that if you get me to look in the system event log I will find arcane error messages in it. That is what the event log is for. I would be seriously surprised if it did not contain at least some error messages. I do not, therefore, require any assistance in fixing my computer and I certainly don’t want to install the remote control software you are offering.
My house is already fully double glazed and well insulated. I am not interested in solar panels as the sun rarely shines here and, in any case, the government has recently made dramatic cuts in the benefits on offer to those who fit them.
I am completely happy with my current energy supplier and will decide, on my own terms, if and when I wish to change. The same thing goes for my broadband service.
Please do not tell me this is not a cold call. You phoned me and I did not ask you to do it. To me, that is a cold call. I am on the telephone preference service list so you should not be calling me at all but I fully understand that you are probably calling from outside the UK in order to circumvent the regulations. No doubt this suspicion could be confirmed from your heavy accent were anyone actually listening.
My first inclination would have been to hang up the phone immediately you called, but I have decided to keep you on the line as long as possible to maximise your company’s phone bill. This is my rather pathetic attempt to punish your organisation for interrupting my otherwise peaceful afternoon.
I thank you for your attention. If you would like to hear this message again, please press zero. If you would like to speak to a representative, please hold and someone will be with you, but it may not be until a week next Tuesday.
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