Wednesday

Blessed Are Those Without Spirit

For breakfast this morning I had a smile nearly as wide as the centuries old catholic/protestant divide. There are few traits of social life in Northern Ireland more repulsive than religious tyranny. I refer not to the wrongs, real or imaginary, that engage our attention in ancient and modern Irish history. My visited tyrants are not those who have waded knee deep through fields of blood to Masonic thrones and grievously oppressed their brother men clad in Celtic green. I speak of the petty tyrants of the Belfast fireside and the social circle, who trample like very despots on the opinions of the average working men of a different faith. You meet people of this ilk everywhere. They stalk by your side in the streets, they seat themselves in the pleasant circle on the hearth casting a gloom on your forced sobriety and they start up dark and scowling in the midst of scenes of innocent mirth to chill and frown down every participator. They “pooh! pooh!” at every opinion advanced as they make the lives of their mothers, sisters, wives and children, unbearable. Beware then of the tyranny of the non-drinking men of Norn Irn.

A good, staid Glaswegian gentleman, when in company, is ever humble, yet the tyrant is never courteous to those who serve even the whitest black crows. Humility and gentility is neither in birth, wealth, or fashion, but in the mind. A high sense of honour, a steeled determination never to take a mean advantage of another, adherence to truth, delicacy and politeness towards those with whom we hold social intercourse, are the essential characteristics of a gentleman. Little attentions to your mother-in-law, your wife, and her pig ugly sister, will beget much love. The man who is a rude husband, son-in-law, and brother-in-law, cannot be a gentleman and will be lonely within the marital bed. He may ape the manners of one, but, wanting the refinement of heart that would make him courteous at home. His politeness is but a thin cloak to cover a rude, unpolished mind. So, with all this said, I decided to take the moral high ground and behaved impeccably during my time in the home of my beloved wife's family.

I did not once pee upon the toilet rug in anger or frustration, neither did I take umbrage at the way in which my offer of helping in the kitchen was so pointedly rebuked. I even pretended not to notice when my morning tea was served in a rather grand cup graced with a portrait of HRH herself.  I like to believe that I can hold my own in any circumstances, all be it outnumbered by a bunch of dim-witted Ulster men with an axe to grind against the Glesga man who turned their sisters head many years since. Tis the charm, you see... What better than to verbally beat the troglodyte's at their own favourite game... Each evening as they gathered to watch their nightly helping of mind numbingly boring soap operas, I began to quote continually from the Christian bible which had been placed so considerately at my side. Just like the Religiosaurus - they too verged on the veritable precipice of extinction once they were starved of their nightly sustenance. Piety is always a religion best served cold.

Gazpacho

3lb vine-ripened tomatoes, diced to 1cm
1 red onion, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
1 medium red bell pepper, de-seeded and chopped
2 pinches sea salt
4 pinches cayenne pepper
20ml white wine vinegar
1 tbsp brown sugar
400ml still spring water
50ml extra-virgin olive oil
2 basil leaves
1 pen
1 newspaper crossword
4 large glasses of red alter wine (don't let the priest see you steal it)


Mix all the ingredients and seasoning together in a large glass bowl. Swally down the first glass of wine. Cover with clingfilm and marinate for a minimum of one hour. Begin the crossword, sample the second glass of wine. Purée in a liquidiser for two minutes on full power. Strain through a fine sieve, add the third glass of red wine to the mix, taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary. Next,  3 down - a small crooner with a club foot from Limerick - 7 letters, begins with 'M'. Refrigerate until required. The mix NOT the crooner. Serve in a chilled bowl. Enjoy the fourth glass of wine, you have earned it. The success of this recipe is determined by the quality and ripeness of your vine ripened tomatoes; the amount of sugar required depends on the natural sweetness of your tomatoes. Choose carefully and for the love of all things biblical, do not refrigerate the toms prior to the preparation of this dish! For a suave garnish I would recommend chopped black olives, sliced hard-boiled eggs dressed with cracked black pepper and garlic croutons. For those out to impress, ciabatta bread with wee dods of fresh butter as an accompaniment. Finally, 17 across is incorrect. Think again.



35 comments:

  1. Love gazpacho! Last time I made it (very similar recipe to yours), I added some cucumber and a couple of jalepeno peppers to the mix. Oh, the flavors...

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  2. Jalapenos would truly bring this dish alive! How about jalapenos and lobster in the finished mix, they normally accompany each other with much aplomb.

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    1. I've had gazpacho with lobster meat. Heaven! (Oddly, I've also had it with cuttlefish, but you don't see a cuttlefish at the local fish mart all that often). Monkfish, baby shrimp, crab meat or even scallops would be nice too.

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    2. Ahh Scallops now you're talking sir!

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  3. Mine didn't have sugar, but it did have cucumber...I'll try it your way, being careful to observe the timing instructions.

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  4. Method in the madness.... the sugar will prevent a migraine after the several empty bottles are placed to one side.

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  5. I'm just glad you escaped...I mean, made it home, in one piece AND with your sense of humor in tact.

    I will be quiet now, as your ears no doubt could use a vacation of their own. ;)

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    1. Aye, in tact hen and without having to suffer the hell that is instant mash! Shame about the packet gravy though.

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  6. I, too, make gazpacho, but in the summer. It's a lovely dish to enjoy chilled on a hot summer's patio.

    The crooner certainly doesn't need chilling... he's a pretty cool guy all on his own!

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    1. I would have to agree with you on all counts Pony-doll.

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  7. Jealousy, such a terrible,terrible thing. And between such good friends too. Cold soup, warm heart. I still love you.

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  8. Aye, but there is also a lot to be said in business terms for having a cold heart and warm soup. It's the difference between shouting spite and spouting shite in certain occupations.

    For the love of the little Jaysus fella himself, where have you been?

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    1. Where have I been? Where have I been? To Londing to see Herself ya think? Naw, did ye not see the newly repaired drive on yer return? My pleasure. Say n'more!

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    2. Say n'more? For the love of all things perfectly repaired... I'm impressed. All these years and you've never so much as got your boots dirty, yet here yis was in the rain and wind slinging the shovel in my honour?

      Aye, that'll be right!

      I heard that you turned up on site twice, the second time was to collect your (mine) X box fae where you left it by the windy where you allegedly supervised the maccy lads doing the real work.

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    3. Allegedly! X box me arse! (BTW I'll replace that bottle soon, promise.) See ya on the bus Saturday morning.

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  9. I was particularly heartened to see the righteous religious routed in the U.S. national elections last week. Maybe this country is finally coming to its senses.

    Why would anyone poke you with a sharp stick? Have they lost their minds?

    The first time I had it, I didn't know that gazpacho was served cold. I must have looked like a nitwit blowing on that first spoonful.

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    1. Watching a bear dance whilst it is chained to a stake can be hazardous to your health. Especially when the dancing bear is smarter than the average stake.

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  10. Deeper thoughts provoked on another stage. For now I add a culinary comment. Try ripe golden mango garnish, for a Pagan twist:)

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    1. Deeper maybe, or perhaps a confident woman who befriends a cobra knowing that it can never be provoked by the hands that offer only musical notes?

      A golden bullet, smooth and shiny, pleasurable to roll around in ones hand. It holds the eye, feel its power and easily forget how it distracts the deadly nature of its intended purpose?

      You decide...

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    2. ...by the way, have included the Pagan mango garnish for my next attempt. Sounds good!

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  11. Your description of the brother-in-law is painfully complete... and i know this breed. i attempted to reach into my computer and slap him. i hope he could feel it from here...

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    1. Aye, painful, now multiply the B-I-L by 4....

      Going by the comments not published, your slap was felt around the world by a few of the Orange Brotherhood... bless them.

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  12. What a wicked, wicked deed - to spoil your in-laws soaps by cramming their craw with their own dogma. You may well hang your heid in shame.
    Does it ever get warm enough in Scotland for gazpacho?

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  13. Dear lady, mah heid is far too full of emptiness to ever hang lower than gravity will allow.

    If you mentioned Gazpacho in Glasgow they would naturally assume you were blathering about the new centre forward that Motherwell had just signed!

    In Alcudia however, we eat it quite reguarly along with more crab and squid than you could wave a claw or eight tentacles at.

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  14. What exactly is a crooner with a club foot got to do with cooking stew i dont get it.

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    1. Tina, Tina, Tina! Where does one begin?

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    2. Tina, I am guessing that you are not very old? A crooner with a club foot and stew is closer to an in-joke than you could ever know. Firstly, gazpacho is a soup, no a stew. A stew is served hot, while gazpacho is a soup served chilled. Please don't question me as to why, look it up hen.

      The crooner in question is an auld friend who I continually like to wind up purely because we are just that... auld friends. He does not have a club foot, although his toe nails are akin to bear claws, hence why he is banned fae the local swimming baths. He is also called Stew... It is an endearment to use satire where friends are involved. Nothing more, no hidden recipe secrets or extra ingredients vital to the food.

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    3. You do make me smile, as did those two goals! :¬)

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    4. 2 goals the good, and Dundee sticking it to Hibs has no done us any harm eh?

      Champions!

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  15. Gazpacho isn't really 'my thing'.
    But a good verbal trouncing of a boor?
    Fantastic!

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    1. Ahhh Scarlet, good verbal is always much more satisfying than a clump about the heid with a stout 4x2 as they say.

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    2. Well, there is something to be said for a good clump about the heid with a 2x4 as well.
      More primal than cerebral, but just as satisfying. :)

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    3. Primal being my basic speciality dish of the day!

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  16. So understand the stew thing understand the soup aint stew but still dont no what is a crooner got to do with the foot club thing!?!

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    1. Ahh Tina, once an anonymous commenter full of harshness and bile, you have come a long way wee girl. Try no to understand hen, just go with the flow and look for what is no written for a start.

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Thank you, the chef is currently preparing an answer for you in the kitchen. Do help yourself to more bread.