Rant free blog with coffee and biscotti

I said this blog would be rant free and this was partly a test, to see if this is possible. I am currently engaged in an email exchange with my preferred supplier of my two drugs of choice on the subject of Fair Trade registration, so I am doubling my hurdles if I want to write about this without ranting. And to be a person with no interest in sport (except for the Olympics -more on this another day) during World Cup month and Wimbledon fortnight would surely induce another rant fount?

But no. England can stay in the WC as long as it likes. When they play a football match I get zippy service from the library and the cafe supplier of all day breakfast and I am not taking my middle aged life into my hands whenever I don the helmet and mount the Raleigh Shopper (3 speeds, 1 basket, 43 years of existence) (that's the bike, not me) (no, actually, it's me as well), so there's no point not being appreciative. And converting my favoured coffee bean retailer to Fair Trade will clearly take time but will work better with charm rather than ranting. I am determined to bring her round, it's that or set up my own import-export business, THERE IS NO ALTERNATIVE.

Rant alert: the very mention of the TINA acronym lurches me dangerously close to the frothy edged precipice of indignant fury on the subject of how the deficit is suddenly the most important thing to tackle (not the environment, not child poverty, not looking after the sick and old, not global warming, not the Iraq war.....) and that this is the ONLY way to tackle it.....but here I am backing gently away.

It was Fair Trade Fortnight very recently (it was also recyclying fortnight and knitting month). Rather than spend my pennies on Fair Trade goods supplied in certain high street coffee chains (being fairly traded doesn't in and of itself make it taste any better, just slip past your conscience more easily) I decided instead to choose the rocky road of reformation, one which had the added advantage of supplying me with delicious coffee.

Whilst in the middle of a commercial transaction for coffee beans which involves me looking away when the assistant shows me how much money I am about to authorise to leave from my overdraft (my bank treats my money like it is theirs so I think it only fair I should get to do the same sometimes), I casually asked the lovely woman if there was a reason why they don't stock any Fair Trade registered lines of beans and if so, what that reason might be. (right, sugar and lemon zest for the recipe, both from Fair Trade suppliers)

I will shorthand the rest of the several exchanges which took place as a result of this simple question. The staff at this shop are lovely, they know all about coffee, they know all about their coffees and they make little taster cups for you to try if your favourite bean is not in season. They are also - and I salute this - so passionate (an overused word in public life but I think it is appropriate here) about their coffee that this propels them to indignant and illogical fury when asked a very simple question about Fair Trade.

Now, Fair Trade fortnight is over, but you don't have to stop buying FT registered goods, they are for life not just for late May and early June. If you, like me with this beans purveyor, don't want to give your favourite shop up but they are persisting in ignoring or even mocking or rubbishing the only truly independent global scheme we have with transparent standards and processes for ensuring that goods with their mark are traded truly fairly, with proper regard for things some of us have clearly learnt to take for granted like living wages, safe working conditions and reasonable time off for maternity or sickness (it's not just about the money), try these simple steps:

1. Ask them, charmingly and when you have just paid them a stonking amount of money (if possible - may not work with Poundrite or Greggs the bakers), if there is a reason why they don't stock a single Fair Trade line (or so few, according to the observable facts).
2. Be positive about them as a shop - I agreed with the people I talked to that of course I trust them in matters of the taste of the coffee and the chocolate and yes their judgement is impeccable. But the difference between trusting them on the goods and trusting them that they were fairly traded is that I can taste the end product, I can't check on the process that brought it to me. Others can, and I am willing to pay for this certification (though often Fair Trade goods are not more expensive than the unfair sort).
3. Make sure you are helpful - I offered to find out about the costs of Fair Trade, looked it up and came back with information about the whole process. Here is a link to their website.
4. Be clear about why it matters - yes, I replied, of course I am also concerned with the working conditions of the staff in the retail outlet, and would surely support them if they felt they were being illegally exploited. However, they are covered by UK employment law and right now (though give it about ten more minutes under the current coalition and......step away from the rant and get back to the point) that means staff in European shops are protected from unsafe conditions, can't be paid less than the minimum wage and have a right to maternity and sick leave.
5. Acknowledge that yes, many big companies are now following this trend, but that this doesn't make it a bad thing or a mere marketing bandwagon. Indeed, I would take it as a sign that it is commercially helpful for a big supermarket, chocolate manufacturer or coffee selling company to seek out Fair Trade brands, particularly in commodoties so renowned for their unfair conditions (coffee and chocolate being two of them, and as they are the only two mood alterants I am now allowed, it matters to me that there isn't blood on them). Fair Trade means more trade.
6. If they say that it is not in demand, you can always point out (still charmingly) that there is a demand, from you and your friends, family and colleagues.

Is this effective? to be continued. Meanwhile I am well stocked for not registered as Fair Trade coffee of such fine quality I am having to share it amongst my friends to dilute my guilt. I do realise that I could have gone to my local supermarket, a veritable cathedral of consumerism, it giveth and it taketh away and there found Fair Trade ground coffee and no doubt 54,687 other things I didn't want. But, donning the cloak of moral superiority on top of the worn rags of cowardice and possibly sloth, I chose to support the local independent small business (yes, and get the good stuff I wanted).

I haven't yet told my target shop about another I have found which supplies fine coffee, not as fine as theirs, but coffee which is triple certified - Organic, Fair Trade and some quality control one. As I said, that last isn't so important, I am a fantastic quality control checker of chocolate and coffee, it's taken years of dedicated effort but I am an acknowledged expert on my own taste buds. My taste buds tell me that I should be trying to support my favourite (and very commercially successful) coffee and chocolate retailer to go for Fair Trade rather than switch drug supplier.

I am now waiting for the email reply I am promised from the CEO of this company, who has already (charmingly, briefly, but with a promise to reply in more length) replied to my email to her in which I made some of these points. This was a suggestion made by the manager of the local outlet after our last conversation, who took my email address and passed it on to the CEO, who contacted me within 24 hours. I have some hope that this may signal something positive in the long run. We will see and there will be news in this space. If successful I can cancel the plan to open a triple certified coffee and chocolate retailer and continue with weekly shocks to my overdraft.

If Fair Trade is a bandwagon, I think that like anti slavery, it's a bandwagon we should probably all want to be on. My taste buds are nervous that they may end up having their souls crushed by chain supplied beans. I am hopeful.

Coffee and biscotti (i cantucci di Prato)

This biscotti recipe is adapted from several, but mostly from "A Tuscan in the Kitchen" by Pino Luongo. Some great recipes, so very flowery writing and a ridiculous comparison between making risotto and wooing a woman. In the midst, some excellent food to be cooked.

Coffee: Buy Fair Trade Coffee beans. Go home. Sniff them. Grind them in a coffee grinder. If you haven't got one, buy the SIMPLEST sort you can find (try ebay if your local department store only sells fancy ones with flashing lights and dials, they are mere distractions). Grind coffee till it is as fine as caster sugar, not icing sugar. Warm your cafetiere. Put coffee into it. Pour some recently boiled water on to it, just to cover it. Stir and allow coffee to swell somewhat (you won't see it, just believe). Then pour the rest of the hot (recently boiled, but not boiling) water on to it. Stir again and allow to brew. Then, uttering the sacred text "je plonge" push the coffee plunger thing gently but firmly down to the bottom.

Biscotti: Separate 4 eggs. Whisk the egg whites until firm, add 500g sugar and finely grated zest of one lemon and stir well.

Whisk or blitz egg yolks and fresh vanilla seeds from one pod together, then stir into the mixture. Add 500g plain flour and 1 teaspoon baking powder. I tend just to tip the whole thing on to the worksurface and knead and combine in one go.

Knead the dough and as you knead, add 100g chopped hazelnuts and/or almonds or mixture. They can be in their skins though recipes do say blanched. Work hard to knead dough to fairly smooth consistency. You can always add a bit of juice or water if needed, but only if you are absolutely sure you need it, knead it first - it should be stiff, not moist, these are not cookies.

Roll out into tubes about 1 inch (2.5 cm) in diameter. Flatten slightly to make an elipse if viewed from the side. Place on greased baking tray or non stick tray. Bake for 10 - 15 minutes at 200c (400f) till slightly coloured. They will expand slightly. Take out and turn the oven down to 135c (275f). Allow the columns to cool for 5 minutes or so while the oven cools down. Slice diagonally into 1 inch (2.5cm) thick slices like the ones you have been served in fancy coffee shops. Place these back in oven. Bake for further 15 minutes. Check they have dried out - if not, put them back in and check again in a few minutes. When dried, remove and cool. Serve with coffee or after a meal with Vin Santo. Yum.

The machines are taking over...

This is not a blog entry so much as a question to the world - why did my Masala Omelette blog, clearly written post election and not containing any electoral related rants at all (a small welcome home gift for my mother, who does not need to hear them, she implanted them all electronically into my brain at or before birth) appear as written and uploaded in April?


Anyway, it's about Slumdog Millionaire-ification of documentaries about India, it contains a picture of the most beautiful cinema I have ever had the pleasure of drinking fizzy wine in and there are eggs.


It's under April ("Masala Omelette for one").


Coming soon, something possibly about rubbish, or possibly about emigration. And the recipe options include: egg-free chocolate muffins; Tuscan soup; cantucci biscotti (those hard almond biscuits you think you won't like but turn out to be as more-ish as a more-ish thing); risotto; aubergine curry.


More when the sun goes down.


The Baker.

The electorate has spoken apparently, or have we?

To go straight to the recipe, avoiding the politics scroll down the page to a yummy sweet mascarpone tart, written with help from a Miss I. Debbonaire of this parish


One of the more irritating cliches being peddled over the last 3 days is that the electorate has spoken, as if we have all got together in a room, thrashed it out amicably (with not a hint of negative campaigning, just everyone being nice) and agreed unanimously that we would vote in such a way as to produce the confusing chaos we are in now. How is that possible? Why would we do that? And yet so many people apparently did, seemingly, get together in a room somewhere in Broxtowe or St Andrews and find some way of controlling the voting system, persuading their friends to vote against their political views, failing to deliver sufficient ballot papers to polling stations in Sheffield, send the wrong postal ballot papers out in Bristol, find some bigot in Rochdale who can pass for a sweet old lady and then set up Gordon Brown to identify her correctly, etc. until we have the results and consequent situation we Brits are in now.




POLITICS FREE PARAGRAPH FOLLOWS
Apologies now to all non Brits and any Brits who aren't convinced that politics has been the most interesting story in town over the last few weeks not days. There will be something else shortly, involving mascarpone tart and my niece Imogen making her first ever pastry (a proud moment for us both, there were tears and photos and then complaints that the tart filling wasn't sweet enough) (or smooth enough - Imogen was not happy that when the smug-market down the road failed to supply ricotta to blend with the mascarpone and we had to make do with organic cottage cheese and a cup of thick cream instead; she correctly concluded that cottage cheese is too gritty).






AND NOW BACK TO THE POLITICS FOR A PARAGRAPH or two or three or seven
Am I alone in thinking that harping on about proportional representation is slightly weird? At least at the moment? At a time of an economic crisis we are all hiding behind the sofa from, increasing animosity towards so-called immigrants stoked up by misinformation, no, let's call a spade a spade, lies and yes, racism (I could be forgiving and call it ignorance but this is my blog so I can call it as I see it), impending back to the future re-runs of the 1980s if the Tories have their hands on the till (sorry, did I say on the till? I meant in the till, that's how you take the money AWAY from POOR people and give it TO the RICH people), why on earth are so many people getting together to demonstrate about our voting system? The Greeks are on the streets about public services and unemployment, we are shouting "what do we want? proportional representation by one of the many possible systems, but probably the Single Transferable Vote! When do we want it? As soon as we can say it quicker!"




Priorities?
Whether or not it needs changing, it seems pretty pointless to change it now, when we have already got the lack of overall majority which would surely result, and apparently that's what the voting reform supporters wanted anyway? The only party that benefits from this will always be the party of the centre, their supporters the only beneficiaries. They came third and that includes all the votes of people who said that they were voting Lib Dem to keep the tories out. Contrary to popular opinion, moving politics to the centre does not inevitably bring about a more representative government. It doesn't represent the interests of the poorer pensioners, the low paid workers, the single mothers, the working families, the worker thrown out of work in a recession. Come to think of it, it doesn't represent the interests of the blindingly rich, the bankers, the workshy shareholders or the premier league footballers but they will probably manage to get by whoever is in power. It represents the views and interests of those who are politically at the centre or those from small fringe parties such as UKIP or the BNP. That's a minority of us. How can that be representative?


First past which post? Where is the post?
Our European colleagues and friends can look on aghast or amused at our quaint system but at least first past the post means that we have local MPs who have to know their constituency in order to win, as they will have had to pound the streets themselves, understand local concerns and also make the case strongly for the electorate in their constituency that their political values best serve the majority of their interests. It also means that we get to vote for who we want - yes it does! I get my ballot paper, and I mark a cross next to the person I want to represent me. If he or she hasn't made the case strongly enough to my neighbours, or is plagued by missing ballot papers or closing polling stations, or if I live in a constituency where most of my neighbours have very different priorities to me, then someone other than the candidate I wanted will get more crosses and she or he will win. She or he will represent the whole constituency and will do so knowing that the majority of her or his constituents will agree with most of the decisions they make. My vote isn't wasted, in my opinion, simply because the person I voted for didn't win. My rights will be wasted, however, if the British National Party gets a foot in the corridors of Westminster, because we have come up with some voting system which allows this.


Some proportional representation systems someone invented earlier
Under proportional representation, I could mark the candidates in order (Alternative Vote) - very difficult for anyone who genuinely doesn't support or share the priorities outlined by most or all of the other candidates - or I have my vote transferred if the candidate I like the most has enough votes to pass a certain quota and win a seat in my area or not enough to stand a chance (not actually my own constituency, my area, from and for which a number of MPs will be chosen) (Single Transferable Vote or STV). Again, lots of us really do not want to have our votes transferred to another party other than the one we are members of or whose principles, priorities and practices we most agree with most of the time or are prepared to argue about. And actually I am not that keen on simply voting for all the candidates from my preferred party in my area - which is what I would personally do - because I want the mixture of party and local representation which our current system gives us. I am not alone.


Can sarcasm dilute the strength of a good argument?
The Electoral Reform Society (http://www.electoral-reform.org.uk/index.php) recommends the STV and amongst the very curious reasons it includes "Candidates don't need a majority of votes to be elected, just a quota, or share of the votes, determined by the size of the electorate and the number of positions to be filled". Don't need a majority of votes to be elected? Then how, pray, are they really representing their electorate? If I am represented by a collection of people, whose constituency surgery do I visit to get my illegal eviction notice dealt with? If it is a group of people, this is highly likely to mean my case gets lost somewhere in the middle, as so often happens in social care organisations without a named key worker system - when I am everybody's problem I am also nobody's problem.


Warning, may contain left wing ranting against the press, what a surprise


If I sound angry, it is because I am. I am as angry that the ERS published a map with certain seats marked as unwinnable for two parties - including the one I was campaigning in, so admittedly I am biased (or emotionally charged and footsore) on this matter - as I am at the party leaders (of all parties) for failing to back great candidates and leaving them open to the vagaries of protest and tactical votes. I am angry that polling data gets to influence how people make up their minds, rather than actual policies and track records. I am angry that the party leader TV debates took over the campaign and reduced it to three white middle aged men, who would be no more representative of us under PR than they are now. I am furious at the biased, inaccurate, racist, ill-informed and often badly written sraps of paper which pass for newspapers, many of which are owned by not just non-doms but non UK citizens. There is a law against foreign money influencing our election. I think this should mean that any newspaper or TV channel owned by Rupert Murdoch should not be allowed to report on politics at any time, but that's just me, call me a bad loser if you like just don't call me a Guardian reader.


Fairness in voting does not equal fairness in general
Finally, some people appear to be confusing a so called fairer voting system with more fairness in society in general. If you want progressive politics, with more equality of opportunity, you generally vote for a progressive party. If the voting reform gives a platform for a wider range of politicians to get elected from, this does not necessarily result in more fairness, a progressive society. If more right wing politicians get a space at the table, particularly in systems where the smaller parties wield disproportionate amounts of power because there is no overall majority (the hung parliament we are in now or the results of most elections by proportional representation), this means more right wing power in politics and an increased public platform from which they grow, simple as that.
So here are the Bakery Window Suggestions for a fairer voting system:

1. Candidates from any party and none can stand for election. They have to set out their stall on policies, their working histories, their track records in local or national government or on the school governing body or local neighbourhood action group. They do this on the doorstep, at public meetings, by phone, blog, facebook, email or carrier pigeon.
2. We have a total ban on any opinion polls during the election or before it. At least on overtly political subjects, although I think that covers everything really.
3. Respected organisations such as the ERS or any political party and less respected organisations alike are not allowed to publish maps, diagrams, bar charts or anything else which contain the words "this seat is safe" for any party.
4. Our polling stations have enough ballot papers for the number of voters in that area, our postal votes go out well in advance so that people who asked for them, responsibly, because they knew they wouldn't be near their polling station that day or their home that week (it was a bank holiday on the Monday, lots of people went on holiday before their ballot papers arrived on the Saturday) can vote.
5. We promise each other we will never EVER go over to a system which relies on computers or buttons or mobile phones or anything more technically sophisticated than a pencil and a piece of paper with the names of the candidates on, counted by trusted people who are watched by others who are allowed to say if they make a mistake.
6. The electorate listen to the policies, pay attention to the arguments, take the time to read something and ask questions of the candidates - in person, on their blog, by twitter or phoning them up, it's not like they aren't accessible any more.
7. Then we vote. And the votes get securely delivered to a counting station where they are counted by trusted people etc as stated in 5 above.
8. That's it. The person with the most votes in one constituency earns the right to represent it. Fringe parties get to express their (sometimes hateful, sometimes beautiful) views and thereby influence other parties or in time, gather more experience and exposure so that they gradually stop being fringe parties and start getting elected (Green Party or for that matter the LibDems themselves, but dear me hopefully never the BNP).

Yes I can see the flaws. Particularly in step 6. But I am a crazy dreamer and I do think that politics makes a difference and if we move it to the centre by creating a system where no party is given a mandate to follow a coherent and thought through manifesto or be held to account at the next election if they fail to do what they said they would do without a decent enough note from their mum, we will end up representing only those people whose priorities and values lie in the centre or on the extremeties, such as the BNP, who will no doubt benefit highly from the STV. If you don't believe me, just have a look at some of the countries which have Proportional Representation. Our far right has not got any seat in parliament and has just lost all their local seats. But their votes added or encouraged by proportional representation could mean they get a cushion and perhaps even a name tag in the big house.
I have pored over the results of last week's election and one thing is clear to me: most people's priorities and values do not lie in the centre, most of us did not vote for the centre and at a time when the predictions through the campaign had been for the party of government to be thoroughly thrashed by the party of the posh boy and getting a fairly firm spanking from the party of the other posh boy. If so many people support voting reform how come most people didn't vote for the party which can't stop going on about it, the one which scored THIRD in votes but appears to have the most power in the current negotiations? People, with proportional representation, this awful insult to democracy would happen MORE OFTEN - my Euro colleagues assure me that this is normal to them, is this what we want? Do the people who voted LibDem because they wanted PR understand that this will also help the BNP to get elected? Are they OK with that? For more fairness, vote for a party with progressive politics at the core, periphery and surrounding atmosphere. If you can find one...I know there was one here somewhere...is that it coming back into view? To be continued...
and BACK TO THE RECIPE
Mascarpone and fruit tart, using Imogen's first sweet pastry - in her own words, as dictated by her


First of all, you measure 250g flour (plain) but you don't have to seive it if you don't want to. Then you add 50g caster sugar. Next you cut up 125 block of butter and chop it up into little pieces on the chopping board. And then you tip it into the bowl which has the flour and sugar in and then chop it up into more little pieces. Once you have got it into as little lumps as you can, you have to rub, using only your finger tips as they are the coldest part of your body. It's important to keep it cold, so that the butter doesn't melt and go funny. It's something about a chemical reaction.


Question: How do you know when you have done enough rubbing in? Answer: when you shake the bowl there aren't any big lumps on top.


So after you have done that, you have to make it into a bowl, no a ball, using only a spoon, because of the whole heat thing, oh adding cold water to make it stick. ONly a bit at a time. You get all of the flour/butter rubbed in mixture that's not been added together and bring it together, using spoon or knife to press it into a ball. Only add the water a little bit at a time, because although it can be solved (the problem which occurs if you add too much) you are less likely to make mistakes.


Then, once it is in a firm smooth ball, you have to wrap it up in greasproof paper and put it in the fridge. Then you make the mascarpone stuff and then you can take it (the pastry) out.




Mascarpone stuff


First of all you get a seive and you get 200g of cottage cheese or really it should be ricotta. You get the cottage cheese or ricotta in the seive and you use the back of a spoon to push it down so that it comes out all smooth. You have to keep on doing that until all of it has gone through and is a smooth paste in the bowl.




Then you add your mascarpone (200g) and your double cream (100g). And you scrape out the seeds from half a fresh vanilla pod and you scrape the zest of a lemon (that's the skin, but not the white stuff under it) with a good zester or a fine grater and you mix it all together. You add about 50g icing sugar (check that it doesn't have any egg whites in it if you have brothers or sisters allergic to eggs), or some more if you want it sweeter. YOu can add some sweet dessert wine or perhaps some grape juice but we didn't.


Pastry shell - see previous blogs


The rolling, lining and baking has been explained before. For this much creamy stuff you will need the amounts listed above and a 12 inch tart tin with removable bottom. Just remember, 20mins with the baking paper and baking beads on, then remove beads and paper and bake for 10 mins more till just golden. Allow to cool fully.


Smooth the creamy stuff in.


Then put loads of fruit on the top - raspberries or strawberries or something like that - make it pretty. Put it in the fridge for a while to chill and firm. You should then be able to remove the tart from the tin and onto a pretty plate.


And serve with a raspberry coulis (squish raspberries through a seive and add icing sugar to taste) or if you have finished the raspberry coulis a raspberry sorbet will do nearly as well.


By Imogen D.


NEXT TIME ON BAKERY WINDOW: Will there be a government to rant about? Or will I change the subject? In any case, there will be food....

On the gravy train

Well, it's happening. Springtime flowers signalling May showers (is that a real well known phrase or saying or did I just make it up?) or at least a hung parliament. Where does everyone live in these circumstances? Do Clegg, Cameron and Brown get to play scissors paper rock over who gets Number 10, Number 11 and the shed at the bottom of the garden? There is one, it featured (I think, though I would probably fold under questioning if I were extraordinarily rendited and admit I am not totally sure) in a picture in the Food Monthly section of the Observer yesterday, which featured lovely Sarah Brown as a domestic goddess....[rant alert]

Ah, Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, how can you do this? One of the most undignified and frankly insulting leitmotifs of this election (and there are many) is the treatment of women in the publicity strategy of the main parties. We are either a) supportive wives slash partners, b) contributors to some insane thread on mumsnet (just thinking about the ways that this internet site re-creates the horrors of the girls' playground in primary school makes me feel queasy) or c) invisible.

There is no point in talking about the role of women in the British National Party. The UK Independence Party, after running on a ticket which seems to consist solely of let's get rid of the Brussels bureaucrats who swim in champagne flavoured gravy and tell us our home grown bananas are the wrong shade of red, promptly put up their leading light as a member of the European Women's Committee when he gained a seat as a European Member of Parliament, in turn purely so that he could exercise his democratically elected right to pronounce that women's only effective location is within a 2.5 m radius of at least 3 working kitchen appliances. But frankly the Tories and the Labour Party should go and stand in the compost corner of the garden and made to think about how they have sidelined Harman, May, Widdecombe, Corston and colleagues and their extraordinary achievements. No, I am not asking for them to be paraded out purely because they are women, this is 2010. I am in fact asking for them not to be hidden away in some sort of general election purdah, so that all we see of the ovary owning classes is Sarah Brown in a frilly pinny holding a picturesque garden trowel.

Mercifully, on the doorstep, the totally unrepresentative selection of voters I have met seems to be interested in things like the economy, the future of the education system, climate change and the the Iraq war, and has shown every sign of being much more intelligent than any of the party spin doctors gives them credit for. And absolutely no-one so far has mentioned the expenses (except me, just then). The candidate I am doorknocking for is a man of integrity, intelligence, wit and warmth, so unlike some unfortunate lady activists, I don't have to fake enthusiasm. (http://www.paulsmith4bristolwest.org.uk/ )

So, for anyone who isn't sure, here are some ways in which women's lives have been affected by policy changes in the last 12 years: the minimum wage (helped vastly more women than men for the simple and appalling reason that low wages were an affliction affecting vastly more women than men); Sure Start, which particularly helps any parent of any child under 4 in most parts of the country, but especially those with high deprivation, by providing high quality, stigma free parenting help, careers advice, nursery care, health care, advocacy and a route out of isolation; the child care tax credits (if you get them, try to imagine what it was like before they existed); unparallelled improvements to the law and practical assistance available to both women and men experiencing domestic violence; changes in the laws on prostitution particularly protecting the most vulnerable women, those who have been trafficked, but also other prostituted women too; changes in the laws on licensing so-called lap dancing clubs so that they are licensed as sex establishments instead of places of entertainment (which should help us get some of their licenses removed, thus reducing the risk of sexual assault and sexual harassment for the neighbouring residents and those of us on our way home from work), the gender equality duty requiring all public institutions to ensure that their activities all promote and do not unwittingly work against gender equality. (to read some more, follow this link, helpfully provided by a member of the sisterhood, we do have a secret handshake you know: http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.guardian.co.uk%2Fcommentisfree%2F2010%2Fapr%2F18%2Fstudents-pole-dancing-david-mitchell&h=351b0442e6d59688cd02277addfe79b0)

And before anyone says what about men, newsflash: equality works better for men as well as women. Just don't get me started on what passing a law saying that gay people can have one sort of "marriage" but the real sort is still only available to straight people. To me, that still sounds like sexuality based apartheid, though of course I completely understand why some people have nevertheless gone for it. But really, what sensible woman or man could fall for a bribe of £150 per year to get married? Are we really that stupid? Do we really enjoy being insulted that much? I think not.

f you aren't registered to vote in the UK, deal with it TODAY, the closing date for registering is tomorrow, Tuesday 20th April 2010. Whichever way you want to vote (unless it is BNP, in which case what on earth are you doing still reading this blog? I am a brown person you know) please, women died so we could all have one of these pieces of white card. Honour their memory and earn your right to moan for the next four years. Ring your local council and ask for help.

ALL ABOARD FOR THE GRAVY

There have been requests for the onion gravy recipe. Quite coincidentally, Ms Sophie Dahl did bubble and squeak and onion gravy on her Delicious show last week (this is not a plug for the show, I am uneasy about Ms Dahl's relationship to real food, so am not sure where to stand on this politically). This prompted speculation, nay intense and heated discussion in the Bakery about pretty kitchens, comforting food and a flurry of activity at my stove top in my frilly pinny (I can even compete with a TV personality/model with an eating disorder).

The weekend results included: home made chicken stock (which I used in the gravy - but you can use a vegetarian real or powdered alternative, Marigold Swiss Bouillon will be fine); chicken, butternut squash and leek gratin (comfort food par excellence, especially with a vegetarian end and a chicken end of the baking trough); chocolate mousse (see previous blog), fishcakes with poached eggs and then last night's triumph, the classic Bakery Bubble with Onion Gravy. Before I hear the chiming of the smugness bell, let me add that during the week I exist on a diet of toast/marmite, muesli/bananas, echinacea sweets, coffee and chocolate.

I served this at a party with roasted vegetables. No-one went home hungry and satisfaction ratings seem to have been high.

Ingredients:

2 large-ish onions

Tablespoon sunflower oil for frying

Tablespoon cornflour (it really should be cornflour, but if you can't get it, plain will do)

Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

Pint of stock (see below)

Mustard - I used Moutarde de Maille grainy, some would prefer something yellower

Salt and pepper

Method

Chop the onions pretty finely. Heat the oil on medium heat in (preferably) a cast iron frying pan which has been well oiled over many years, but failing that, you can use a medium saucepan - not a non stick one, this prevents sufficient browning. Put the chopped onions in and leave to fry gently but firmly for about 20 minutes, stirring every so often. I did this whilst watching Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop cafe, still a lovely film (better book) and still good material for a training course on domestic violence, and I didn't miss much on my regular kitchen checks.

Meanwhile, get your stock together. This either means: boil kettle, measure out stock powder into jug, pour water onto stock, stir; or poach chicken in large saucepan with big glass of wine, enough water to cover the chicken, two bay leaves, a roughly chopped pair of carrots and pair of leeks, couple of tomatoes, some herbs (parsley, sage, rosemary or thyme), remove chicken when done, take flesh off chicken and place bones back in stock pot and simmer the whole thing for a couple of hours, then leave to stand, skim off fat and strain the doings from the liquid. Taste and season.

When the onions have browned but not burned, remove from the heat and stir in the cornflour. Return it to the heat, stirring constantly for about a minute to make the starch grains burst. If it all looks a bit dry, add a small knob of butter (no more than an extra 25g) and stir vigorously.

Remove pan from heat again and add about a tablespoon of stock, a generous slosh but not too much. Stir vigorously until it is all combined, returning it to the heat momentarily to help this process. Remove from heat again, add about the same again, stir again, return to heat for more stirring. Each time you add more liquid the mixture will look hopelessly runny and lumpy for a little while till you have stirred and the heat has helped the flour and liquid to combine to a thickish (to begin with) and gradually just creamy (as you add more liquid) sauce. You can keep adding more liquid in ever increasing amounts until it is all in there. Now return to the heat on medium and allow it all to come to a bubbling simmer, during which time it should thicken slightly to make a gravy consistency. If it all looks too thin, just let it simmer longer and it will thicken.

You can now add the seasoning. Splash in plenty of Worcestershire sauce or any equivalent of your choice. Last night I also added in some very old but still pokey home made chilli jam (it had crystalised but is still fine when dissolved in a sauce or smeared over a roasting veg). I also added plenty grainy mustard. I kept tasting it (no double dipping with that spoon now, you don't want your guests getting your late Spring cold) and adding more of this seasoning or that until I liked it a lot. Then I let it simmer some more.

Serving suggestion

This goes well with pretty much anything roasted or toasted. Roasted veg or meat good. Bubble and squeak (future Bakery recipe) good. Spread on toasted bread, good. With a poached egg on the bubble and squeak with toasted bread on the side, divine.

Thanks to KW for Amsterdam blossom photos. The primroses are part of a primrose carpet in Weston Big Wood, an ancient and magical wood just outside Portishead in the Gordano valley.

NEXT TIME IN BAKERY WINDOW: more ranting from the doorstep and some food which tastes yummy.

Masala Omelette for One

First of all, apologies to the Apples of my Eyes and colleague who are allergic to eggs, to the Friend of my Youth for whom the mere sight of a slab of Valrhona induces a migraine and to anyone who spurns the secondary output of anything with a face (such as milk or eggs).
Some previous posts have not been kind (although the last one, underneath the proportional representation and the general election result, was egg and nut free and a pudding). And also mysteriously this current blog post, clearly written post election (and also with no election ranting in it! Hooray!) has changed its own date of upload to 2nd April...I am trying to re-upload it with this sentence in it as a device to change this - but the machines are clearly taking over.


I must now warn aforementioned As of my Es and esteemed colleague that neither indeed will this one be, though the F of my rapidly disappearing Y will be fine. It may however contain at least a hint of a rant - something strange has happened to my personality lately and I have started thinking kindly thoughts and carrying out random acts of niceness. But I missed the ranting, in fact what was I thinking of? Did I miss the meeting where it was announced that all injustice had been thwarted, all random acts of unkindness declared socially unacceptable and the UK Honours system had been overhauled to remove all mentions of the British Empire? Answers on twitter please, whatever that is. But I am guessing that they will be 'no, Thangam, as you know very well, that meeting was cancelled because we forgot to book a room'. So rants remain - they are necessary, but only provided they stimulate action, not if they merely serve as a way of making me feel like I am actually doing something. More on this anon.


Here is the recipe, let's get that out of the way first.


Masala Omelette
No, actually, here comes the rant. And it is related to the recipe. I have long had to tolerate people who have been there on gap years or package holidays telling me things about India as if I was a stranger to the country and they are almost always things like how great it is that you can get a hotel room for 0.03p per night and how annoying beggars are and the quality of the illegal substances they consumed on a beach in Goa/Hindu Kush valley/jail (if you google Hindu Kush or images of Hindu Kush you are rewarded with more pictures of cannabis indica buds than the world could need - it took me a while to find this one). My strategy has hitherto been to smile and nod and walk away, deleting their phone number as I do so and subsequently removing from my possession all photos, memorabilia and other artefacts which might link me to them.


But lately, and I think we can all name this as the Slumdog Millionaire effect it so truly is, I have had the uncomfortable feeling that they are trying to educate me about how poor people really do prefer being poor to being, y'know, not poor. There has been a slew of appalling Channel 4 programmes warming this theme, lots of shots of TVs and mobile phones being used in slums to show that they aren't really that badly off, lots of hugging and crying and children playing to show that human warmth exists even in a slum (and whoever thought otherwise?) and possibly some dialogue about everyone wanting to carry on living there because of the sense of community.


This programme slew seems to have given the green light to people who have in fact NEVER been to India or met anyone of an Indian origin or ever studied economics or social history or colonial history, in fact people about whom I strongly suspect think that Indians speak English because of MTV and know nothing of a legacy of 200+ years of economic, military, administrative and social domination by the English to pronounce, unasked, that the Indian slums are in fact the model of how we should all live. The people who have pronounced this to me (and trust me there have been more than 6, including two complete strangers) have all done so from the comfort of comfy sofas in well built secure housing with clean safe running water, access to health care and education and in fairly certain knowledge that their house won't be crushed by a bulldozer one morning to make way for a construction site on which to build luxury flats. The-Slumdog-follow-up-bad-documentary-effect.


Don't get me wrong, I went voluntarily to see SM, not once but twice in the actual cinema (once in a delicious 1930s gem called the Tuschinski, to which I recommend you all rush when on holiday in Amsterdam, if only to sit in the warm red velvet plushness and sigh wistfully for film going times gone past) and I enjoyed my evening hugely on both occassions. I have also voluntarily watched and re-watched the final dance sequence on several long haul plane flights. I have the soundtrack on my MP3 and as a phenomenom I am a big fan. Not because it is a great film by any standards or because it is a great film about India, when in fact it presents a film in which the entire cast, save the leading man and woman, are despicable, child molesting/criminal/capitalist bastards, and the leading man, having grown up in the slum and streets suddenly has enough fluent English to hold his own in a call centre and a TV programme.

The dancing, photography and music were fantastic which puts it above many a film of the last few years but that's as far as I can go. Sorry, those of you who loved it and wanted me to share that feeling, please don't take it personally but I didn't get the same wave and it's significantly because of what it means rather than what it was. And even then it is complicated, because some of the things that are great about it are about what it means, rather than what it was.


It is frankly very irritating that the only films about India which get big box office outside the subcontinent have to be made by English people who seem unable to resist the urge to infantalise a nation of 2 billion people with cutesy tear jerking trite plot (from Gandhi to Slumdog in two generations doesn't feel like much progress). But I am a fan of the phenomenom because it is a BIG something for some of us to be in a cinema watching a film with a cast who look like us and whilst it does portray us as mostly appalling people, it's an improvement on the Indiana Jones depiction of two decades ago. And of course it is good that so many people whose interest in India hasn't hitherto stretched much beyond complaining that the people who work in their bank's call centre don't seem to know where Nempnet Thrubwell is are now beginning to wake up and smell the future. It is particularly poignant that a man went to the Oscars and made his acceptance speech in the language of my family of paternal origin. My tears are willingly jerked by that aspect.


It should have been a sign that we brown folk were going to be taken more seriously as global players. But dear me no. This Oscar winning, which was great, was followed by the slum fetishising, in TV documentaries and newspaper articles in respectable newspapers. It feels awfully like patting the poor brown people on the head and failing to recognise the appalling inequalities and injustices of the global economy, and how our wastefulness in one part of the world affects the lives and deaths of people in another.


It's the same unforgivable mentality which allows us to read articles about the battery farm like conditions of workers in the factories which make the MP3 player on which I listen to AR Rahman's delicious and uplifting Jai Ho (bought and paid for, not illegally downloaded) as I cycle to the station of a morning, and rationalise this as something which doesn't affect Chinese people (in the case of manufacturing) or Indian people (in the case of the back room industries or waste disposal) like it would Western people. I sit on my squashy sofa, I wear my cheap clothes, I watch my affordable luxuries and I am entitled to pronounce that poor people either don't want these things or already have them and aren't really that poor after all.


[the ranting muscle still seems to work then]


[but was it a nice change to have a thangambakery blog free of election politics?]


[some significant inspiration for this rant came from the Shashi Tharoor piece entitled Indiana Jones and the Temple of Dhoom, contained in his marvelous book of essays 'The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone: Reflections on India, the Emerging 21st Century Power']



Now for the recipe: Omelette Masala (comfort food for the mixed race people's nation)


This is comfort food for those of us who miss our grandmother's curried scrambled eggs (that, along with Gulab Jamun, an Indian sweet whose ingredients defy understanding of how delicious it is, is all I ate when I was there when I was 9 for the first time) or were once in Goa and had something vaguely like it squashed in a bun, or anyone who just likes Indian spicing and eggs and that does cover a lot of us. Apologies once again to thangambakery followers who are not able to eat of the egg. There will be a chocolate muffin coming soon, one so delicious that egg fans do not notice the lack of egg.

Chop up a green or red chilli, including some of the seeds or all of them if you like it REALLY hot. If you don't like your food hot at all, don't make this omelette, without the chilli you might as well stick to tortilla.


Grind some coriander, fennel and cumin seeds - about quarter of a teaspoon of each, you can use a pestle and mortar for this. No need to invest in a spice grinder. Or you can use half a teaspoon of dried spices. If no pest. and mort., try a rolling pin. But do put a pestle and mortar on your birthday present list or just do yourself a favour and get one for yourself. Marble or granite, not wood.

If you can get decent curry leaves (pictured left) these are real, they are well used spice in South India and you can grow them (follow the link above) or order them online from Spices of India, or you can get them from good Indian grocery shops such as the world famous Sweet Mart in St Mark's Road, Bristol -dry fry two or three till dry but not browning and add to the grinding mix. DON'T bother if they smell musty or look manky. Curry leaves are ESSENTIAL for South Indian cooking - fresh or dried, they are used in large quantities and are part of the palette which distinguishes real South Indian food from the westernised generic Indian food we often get in Europe. Get some and I will feature them in a future Bakery Window. You won't regret it.

Chop reasonably finely half a red pepper.


If you have a leftover cooked potato hanging around, or can keep one from another meal, chop this up too, into 1cm cubes (roughly 1cm, no need to get out your tape measure). If you don't have one hanging around, boil one till just done and then chop it.


Heat a decent (or the best you have) frying pan to medium heat and melt a 25 g knob of butter in it, with a splash of sunflower oil - the oil is to help prevent the butter from burning whilst you fry the onion/pepper/spices, but the dominant note should be butter so dont overdo the splash - it's about a teaspoon no more.


Before the oil starts smoking add the chopped red pepper. Stir when needed, to fry it till just soft and sweet, then add the chopped potato. Again, fry, with occassional stirs, until potatoes are just turning golden and the red pepper is probably just starting to caramelise at the edges. Now chuck in the chilli and the spices, and keep stirring all the time now, for about a minute. The spices should be scenting up your kitchen, not smoking. This is a no smoking zone. Smoking will kill the flavour. Smoking will kill the tastebuds. Smoking will kill you. [this is a reminder note to self, not a public announcement or indeed news].


Now add the eggs - I would say 3, beaten a bit but not overly - it's fine to have trails of white in this omelette. If you are on an egg-conscious diet thing, 2 will do, I have vitamin deficiencies which spell BED, so I use these as an excuse for more of any sort of egg, hen's, duck's, quail's (so tiny! so pretty! go so well with sweetcorn puree and fried scallops!) and more of any sort of sunshine. Tip the pan from side to side till there is egg all over and it is starting to cook. As it cooks, tip pan to one side and ease uncooked egg to the underneath, by lifting up the edge of the omelett using a spatula which is safe for the pan surface (one of those brightly coloured silicone ones you can get in kitchen departments of department stores like Fenwicks in Newcastle, where I recently bought up most of their silicone kitchen implements including re-useable bun cases in pastel colours!). If the potato/pepper looks like it is all collecting in the middle, push it around a bit and then push down on the egg mixture if that makes holes or tears.


Cook till your desired level of egg runniness to firmness ratio is achieved. I like mine on the salmonella side.


You can serve this delicacy with some green beans or other green things - perhaps tossed with some chilli oil or some finely chopped fried garlic? Or you can sandwich it in a bread bun. Or you can just place it on a fine plate and eat it with your (clean) fingers, Indian style (right hand only, try to use only finger tips).


Why is this food for the mixed race people's nation? Because it is sort of Indian and sort of not, was inspired by my grandmother (also Thangam) and by Nigella Lawson, both of whom have provided me with similar recipes to the point where I can't remember any more where grandma's ends and Nigella's begins. We mixed race folk were once despised or pitied or recommended for extermination (still are by some) but there are more and more of us and we seem to be doing OK or more than OK. Gradually, others who wouldn't have instinctively identified themselves thusly from looking at their immediate lineage are starting to have to admit that the very term mixed race implies there are some/most people who are of some sort of a pure race, which is, at least in this island nation of a thousand invasions and excursions, unlikely at best. People, come out, admit we are probably all in this nation (I can't call it a melting pot) and the BNP and other racists will have nothing to work with.

NEXT TIME IN THE BAKERY WINDOW: egg free muffins and cakes - and probably more politics, I have a follow up to the proportional representation rant...have I started to mellow in middle age? Surely not. Yet I find myself in agreement with Roy Jenkins, one of the gang of four who started the SDP and thereby, what with its subsequent alliance and eventual merger with the Liberals, arguably helped to keep Labour out of government for longer than the Tories probably wanted. Yes, folks, I can be broad minded sometimes and have to admit that Roy J (and the German electoral system, which apparently we, the Allies in the post world war 2 carve up of Germany), might have been right on this one.