Monday

Much A Stew About Nothing





























Bad news apparently, the animal kingdom has today said a tearful goodbye to something once known the world over as a 'flavescent snub-horn spotted quag'. Don't ask me exactly what one of these is. It isn't mentioned in any of the earliest incunabulum that I can see. Beast, fowl or furry fish, I know not. All I do know for sure is that if anything has the slightest amount of horn attached to its face, you can bet your life a thousand middle-aged and impotent Chinamen will want it, buy it, grind it to a fine powder and ingest it, regardless of 'inflated' price or medical risk. The good news is that somewhere in the middle of a bug infested haven, possibly east of Kathmandu for all I know, a magical moment has occurred. It would seem that a well known virginal, khaki clad BBC survivalist, wearing shorts that are far too tight for his scrotum, covered from head to foot in mosquito bites and insidiously large spiders, has tripped over a rotting log only to discover a new species of shite-eating dung beetle scurrying about on the jungle floor. No doubt surviving quite nicely away from prying eyes on the detritus of discarded takeaway scraps left behind by visiting rotund, wealthy big game hunters, complete with raspberry-ripple arms, corned beef legs, large bank accounts and enough pooled flatulence between them to float a small continent sized balloon.

I'll pause for your immediate outraged bronteum reaction.

Just as I thought, nothing. Not a sausage. And not surprisingly so. I was also unimpressed. It is not an interesting fact to any of us, unless of course your name is Nathaniel, you drive an off-grey Toyota Prius, part your hair in the middle, are a boorish, insipid little fellow, as nasally septic as a two-stroke motorcycle, complete with hairy ears, standing splay footed rattling a charity donation tin in the middle of Clydebank shopping centre in the pouring rain. Siobhan, not wishing to be rude, stopped at his behest. He regaled us with yet another somewhat pantomancer tale about a suffering hippopotamus that had passed on somewhere near Belarus. The locals had planned to have it cremated, but the gas ran out halfway through, so they had to finish the job off with hammers. The urn, by his description alone, was only slightly smaller than a dreaded Fiat by all accounts. Bit of a bugger getting such a semi-ustulate trophy up on the mantelpiece I would have thought. Siobhan dropped far too many chiseled ducats into his tin, smiled sympathetically and we moved swiftly on as he began to chant an incantation about whale hunters being the true Antichrist.

Now that really is interesting... Mr. Pewfodder always said it was me.


As a man of a certain vintage, I find myself hurtling ever quickly over the hill towards middle-age. Frequent trips to the lavatory during the wee small hours have been quite concerning of late. Nothing to do with my gentleman's sausage or my plumbing you understand, more to do with the strange things that one notices when all about you is seemingly still. Some years ago I allowed my local butcher to graze his muttony beasts in my bottom meadow, of which the grass is extremely lush and sumptuous. It made good business sense, my grass is kept short, his beasts are fattened for the kill. We both benefit financially.
Originally of Edinburgh blood, he is extremely lazy. Too much like hard work to pull his Oxford shoes on and trample through the dew-fresh meadow twice a week to check his flock. The east coast mob are more used to ringing their butlers and sending messages through English lackeys to those of a working class ilk. Far easier to daub their woolliness with luminous green numbers and count them off from the warmth of his Landrover with large binoculars and a sharpened pencil. Which is fine until the moon catches them in a certain light and if caught unawares, frowsty with sleep or occasionally stupend with the drink, can look as though the aliens have landed and are looking up at me, quietly inquisitive, provocatively chewing, watching, waiting, plotting, as I stand once more and pee.

It can be most disconcerting. Ovinaphobia coming from the blackest of black amongst the family flock is indeed wrong. A man needs his privacy. My height means that although my genitalia is obscured by frosted glass, my head is level with the small usually open window. I see them, they look back at me. Three hundred and forty seven pairs of staring eyes. No sound is to be heard. Only the wind. The one at the front seems to smile a calculating smile. Quite eerie, as if in a strange 'Roald Dahl' moment. I already carry the angry ghost of a battered and drowned ram around with me. Will I ever forget? However, all is not lost. I have my very own weapon of mass distraction. Not once in the 'War of the Worlds' movie did you see Tom Cruise in his fight against aliens ever break wind so loudly that it caused great hordes of startled, glassy-eyed green staring invaders to retreat at high speed across a lonely grassy meadow at 3am on a cold and frosty morning. Sound travels in the still of the night. So do frightened sheep it would appear.

Let's see the butcher try to count them now.


Seriously Spicy Lamb Stew

1 pint of homemade chicken stock
3 oz Scotch bonnet chili's, stemmed, seeded and torn into pieces.
1 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
1 pound of pork chorizo, remove skin
2 cups chopped red onion
6 large cloves of fresh garlic, smashed and cleaned
1 tbsp oregano
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 whole shoulder of lamb, boned and cut into bite-size pieces
1 tin red kidney beans - drained
3 bell peppers, red/green/yellow

Combine the first 3 ingredients in a large saucepan. Cover and simmer over a medium heat until the chilies soften, usually around 10 minutes. Puree the mixture in small batches in the blender.Cook off the fat from the chorizo, breaking the meat down until it is is fine in texture. Leave it to drain for 10 minutes. Add the chorizo to a large casserole dish with the other ingredients and leave to infuse for an hour. Gently fry off the lamb, allow the fats to drain off fully before mixing the lamb with the chorizo in the casserole dish. Simmer dish for 2 hours until the lamb is tender and fully cooked. Season with salt and pepper, add creme fraiche and a sprinkling of fresh chives before serving. Garlic bread and chilled lager finishes the meal very well. Enjoy.

46 comments:

  1. There's a stew (or chili) after my own heart. Scotch bonnets, chorizo and lamb? These are a few of my favorite things...as they sing in the movies.

    But was the warm spice therein the cause of the aggravated flatulence that sent the bleating looky-loos scurrying? Makes perfect sense.

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    1. It started out as a stew, however to keep out the cold and to spice things up a bit I added the hot stuff! This is where the yin and the yang fall into place. You cannot have heat without having the flames Mr Earl...

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  2. So this quag, i take it that you can't eat it or you would have barbecued it by now. Tom Cruise fart? Are you mad? he's a member of a church group, they dont do things like actual humans do.

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    1. Quag, it doesn't roll off the tongue very well eh? I prefer cuts of meat that I recognise prior to the cooking process. You, on the other hand, I would have thought it would have been a step up from frozen burgers and gritty sausages my friend.

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  3. n the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

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  4. Ah Mr Pew. Sadly, your light is beginning to dim. Like a flickering candle, my interest in religious rhetoric eventually burns down to the nub. Surely there is a subject other than the church that holds your attention? All work and no play makes for unhappiness, as most people here can plainly see about you. I do hope you find something that makes you smile very soon. We all deserve to be happy in life.

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  5. The only thing that would make him smile would be if he pushed his sister down the stairs.

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  6. The only thing that would make him smile is wind.

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  7. The only thing that makes him smile is when the vicar pats him on the head after he drops £50 into the plate.

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  8. Ah now fellas, moral high ground and all that. Keep it light, even the zealots have a right to speak without being bullied.

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  9. Your "middle of the night encounter" description sounds like something out of a Stephen King novel...don't let him get a hold of it and turn those words into his own profit. :)

    Not many sheep in my neighborhood, so I mostly think of them as fluffy and occasionally bleating. Except the small one on my desk, which was sent to me by a pair of young Scottish lads who felt sorry that I didn't have sheep around the corner from my house. :)

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  10. Stephen King is actually sitting down and writing the sequel to his very successful first book 'The Fog' after reading this very post. It is based on a large man, several dozen rabid sheep, and a bout of chili flatulence that will shake the cinema aisles the length and breadth of the civilised world. (Not including Belgium, obviously)

    Nice to see you have even more admiring fans in bonny Scotland!

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  11. Aye, as one who has been witness to the 'weapon of mass distraction' I can quite understand how it would cause a stampede.

    In the beginning was the Stew, and the Stew made Wind, and the Stew was the wind and the wind was foul, yea even in the darkness.

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    1. Astonishing that you're still with us to recall the incident. A lesser man would have succumbed to the dark forces. You're a powerful man, sir.

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    2. One must never succumb to anything other than love and eventually death sir. Everything else is merely a poorly written 'supposed' Shakespearian play, as so often demonstrated by Sir Francis Bacon.

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  12. And Ghod said unto his people as they gathered on the mount for yet another Sunday sermon; Let any man amongst you who has not broken wind after a good healthy bowl of spicy mutton, fall to his knees and beg for more. Man cannot live on bread alone. And with that, he picked up his wooden bowl and thy spoon and merrily he went, trumping all the way.

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  13. I've actually stood in the very place you speak of and wondered about the teeth marks on the window sill. Now all is clear, especially now that I know why the little window is always left open.

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  14. So it was you who used my fangipani bath oil!

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  15. Once a month the Bereavement group meet at night! In a pub!
    I always have chilli con carne mainly because I love the combo of the CCC and creme fraiche although they never give you enough CF.
    I think your dish would be much more delicious.

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    1. Thank you Pat, and may I suggest that you also try substituting the CF with natural yoghurt on occasion for a slightly sweeter zing?

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  16. Just returned from the market with completed shopping list firmly grasped in hand. Will be making this (or something like this) tomorrow for supper. One substitution was in order. They didn't have the type of chorizo that I wanted, so I went with a much milder lamb merguez variety. S'okay...I think the heat from the Scotch bonnets and cayenne should be sufficient. I may also be tempted to add some peeled San Marzano tomatoes, but I'll try to resist.

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  17. Excellent sir, remember that lamb is extremely succulent and always absorbs the juices and flavours that it is prepared in. To appreciate the heat from the bonnets, leave overnight in the stock, add fresh ground ginger to the mix and then add the chorizo. This way the juices will be clear of fat and will taste much better. The ginger will take away any excess bitterness from the bonnets. Let me know how you got on.

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  18. I had to laugh at the vision of those stampeding sheep! Some creatures startle much too easily. I have scars on one thigh from a cat that was startled out of my lap from a dead sleep by a resounding belch with enough power to rattle the windows. My ex was good at that. Neither the cat nor I were impressed.

    Your stew is not something I would be able to make, however delicious it sounds. The spicyness is just a bit too potent for the likes of my delicate tum. I have learned my lesson after numerous episodes of belly burning gastric discomfort following zingy (and usually very delicious) meals.

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    1. My dearest Pony-doll, a simpler, less zingy recipe could easily be arranged for someone as sensitive to hot food as your good self. Let me know your preferences of ingredients and I am happy to conjure up something that will warm you inside and give you great satisfaction and a feeling of fullness.

      But first... we must catch those sheep!

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    2. My sister has a couple of Australian sheepdogs... perhaps I could borrow them to give you a hand with the sheep wrangling?

      As for a recipe pour moi, perhaps leave out the Scotch bonnets and get a lesser hotness of choriza (if one exists)? And cut back on the cayenne a touch? I do like a tiny bit of zing, you know... just not enough to give me a belly ache. Thank you, dear Chef, for offering to do up a proper Scottish stew recipe for me. I owe you a pint or six for that!

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  19. Here in the south we are expecting the north wind to arrive shortly. Thank you, Mr Files for the warning... I will keep my Fabreze on standby.
    Sx

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    1. Fear not my wee pretty one, the wind was little more than a breeze egged on by exaggeration and a willingness to pump keys. My manners are impeccable in bathroom etiquette and my affectation by way of the wind is merely faux. However, Fabreeze may well be a good back-up plan, just in case.

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  20. Dear Chef, may I suggest you install venetian blinds to allow you some privacy and avoid these strangely awkward "Roadl Dahl moments"? That smiling front sheep is particularly scary! ;)

    PS.- Excellent stew! I have to try it!

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    1. Good advice dear lady, however a remedy is at hand. I have hung a life sized portrait of the little singing fella up at the window. Guaranteed to keep every creature at bay... bizzare, ovine or alien, it matters not!

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    2. Not 'THAT' portrait? You swore only your own eyes would ever see it! I'll have to think 'long & hard' before I pose nude for you again. (And it was chilly in that wee studio!!)

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  21. Praise where praise is due i guess. The recipe is a good one, it's actually on tonights menu and it already has the thumbs up from the lunch time diners today.

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    1. You sound surprised. I had the best teachers in Drumchapel to show me the light in regard to preparing good food. Growing up in a street full of female aunties, cousins, sisters and sisters-in-law, taught me many things. Who could ever forget my own beautiful mother and her skills with very little, always providing for so many. My education was a joy.

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    2. Aye! it's utterly amazing what a Scottish Granny can do with such little means, I am sad to say that at the time I did not appreciate the humble offerings of the family. As a lad I opted for the chipper but as a man I would give much to sit at that table and just listen to the banter and ramblings of auld Grannies, Aunties and such...
      Cheers.

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    3. Alas, Mr. Dundee, appreciation for our elders does not appear until it is all far too late. However, no time like the present to cut our cloth in regard to trying on a new coat of good will for those still around us.

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  22. A great recipe...but it will have to wait until I get to Spain as my own sheep are off menu until the next generation of males grow up.

    One local gentleman must have had wind - if I may say so - of your recipe as he was attempting to release the flock from the pen one dark night recently.
    Unfortunately for him he ended up between the ram and a hard place and the alsatian got him as he was ejected from the pen.

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    1. Sheep, by nature, are the biggest emitters of methane gas on the planet. With that said, I am yet to see one that can cook a stew quite as spicy as this one. The mind continues to boggle!

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  23. Dearest Ponita, I have a mild, but still luxurious stew in mind for you. Allow me to fine tune it and magic it on screen for you in the coming weeks. In the meantime, perhaps we could walk, talk and clap the dogs as they frolic amongst the angst of many legions of frightened green sheep.

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    1. That sounds delightful! I look forward to seeing what you concoct. And I can assure you the dogs will enjoy the sheep antics, as I will our walk and talk.

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    2. It's a date! I'll bring the wine.

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  24. He paints his sheep? i think they'd look even more fetching if you found a few cases of spray adhesive and a metric ton of gold glitter! Long live Disco Sheep!

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    1. Did you think that mischief would ever be far from my mind princess?

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  25. On a lighter note, my version of your lamb stew came out delicious! I did wind up adding some San Marzanos, so it was more of a chili than a stew. Still...delicious and spicy!

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    1. I'd be delighted to see some of your recipes Mr Earl. I should imagine you could give me a run for my money.

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    2. I'll post a collection of them on my site ASAP. Cheers!

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  26. i missed this yesterday, (i was far too involved with american football) so, i have a double pleasure tonight! i'll have to add this to my list of winter time dishes to prepare before the MITM takes off again! thank you again, sugar! xoxoxox

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    1. You are welcome Savvy, let me know what additions/changes you make dear lady.

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