Gooseberry Fool

Recipe for: GOOSEBERRY FOOL

Ingredients:

• 500g gooseberries, topped & tailed
• 1 tsp orange zest. Finely grated
• 100g caster sugar
• 5 tblsp elderflower cordial
• 250ml double cream
• 250ml greek yoghurt

Method:

1. put the gooseberries, orange zest, 75g of the sugar and 1 tblsp water into a saucepan
2. cook for a few minutes until the gooseberries are soft & slumped
3. add 2 tblsp of the elderflower cordial & stir to mix
4. leave to cool, then chill in the fridge
5. put the cream, yoghurt, remaining sugar and remaining cordial in a bowl
6. whisk until the mixture holds its shape, then loosely swirl in 2/3 of the gooseberries
7. spoon into serving glasses, then chill in the fridge for a couple of hours
8. when ready to serve, top with some of the remaining gooseberries and a splash of the cordial

What else you need to know:

1. this is delicious, but VERY rich – a little goes a long way.  Serve with ice-cream wafers or biscuits to add a different texture & to spread out the richness
2. this recipe also works with other soft fruits e.g. raspberries or red/ black-currants

Huhne & Pryce with Matching Bracelets

Matching Bracelets

They let the buggers out this morning,

Tired and blinking into the light.

You see, they’re such a lovely couple -

That must have been a happy sight!

The jails were so sorry to let them go,

Pryce and Huhne, a pair of proper loons:

Not early as a favour, but for good behaviour:

Well – that’s not a moment too soon!

Making a new start, two hundred miles apart,

Separate prisons, such a treasure!

Yes they’ve completed their eight-week stretches,

Detained at Her Majesty’s Pleasure.

The warders shed a hidden tear,

Such personalities they rarely see;

They’d have preferred, for them to do more bird,

Rather than to set their charges free.

So, as a token of their great esteem,

And to hide the regret which inside them rankles,

They had a whip-round to buy them presents -

A pair of bracelets for their ankles.

They hope they’ll always wear them,

As a momento of their prison’s happy days,

And make them think of better times,

To teach them that crime hardly ever pays.

Let there be no doubt, they were only let out,

To learn a lesson that’s just this:

Don’t make your partner take all the points,

And don’t pervert the course of justice!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 12th May 2013

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 12^th May 2013

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

·        1. Shock and disbelief spread throughout the village this week after the unexpected announcement by talismanic football manager Benny Dogleash that he would be leaving the club from 1^st July.  The Bromham Casuals’ modern maestro, now nearly 70, is due to have a gastric band fitted in the summer, and it is thought that this may have had some bearing on the timing of the decision.  The fact that the team finished bottom of the Germolene League for the third season on the trot is thought to have had no impact whatsoever.

·         2.  The political landscape has also been shifting as the different parties represented on Bromham Parish Council jockey for position on the vexed question of whether Bromham should withdraw from the Wiltshire Economic Union.  Dave Wentwrong, leader of the Field Land-Owners’ Party (FLOP) is under pressure from his own back-benchers, and from the Bromham Local Independence Party (BLIP) to promise a referendum on the subject. Ted Willybanned, of the Carrot-Rooters’ Action Party (CRAP) asked “What’s a referendum?”

·         For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Tasting Notes

Tasting Notes

The world is full of wonderful wine,

So many that it’s very hard to choose.

But you’re supposed to be particular,

Not just knock it back like booze.

So I was dragged along to a wine tasting,

Then told to wait patiently and sit,

But the biggest shock I got that night,

Was being told not to swallow, but to spit!

Apparently, you can’t just rush in:

You’re supposed to take your time, and savour it.

If you go and drink it too quickly,

You’ll not discover your favourite.

There was a method and a protocol,

I soon learnt, that had to be observed,

Although I’d have liked to just get on with it,

From quaffing too quickly I had to be deterred.

Firstly they all gazed upon its colour,

Finding words to describe its “shades” and its “tints”,

So I swallowed a few mouthfuls,

And listened to them talking of “hints”.

Then there was some swirling around in the glass,

To develop the “bouquet” and the “aroma”:

But I decided to just finish my glass,

Before I slept, or fell into a coma.

I thought after that we’d get on with it,

But they started mentioning the “nose”,

So I started sipping a bit more of it -

What they were waiting for, God Alone knows.

Then, finally, they got on to the drinking,

And to their palates (that means the taste),

But I was already way ahead of them,

I drank a bit more, no time to waste.

They started swirling it all round their mouths,

And rolling their eyes as they savoured,

And sucking in air, and pinching their cheeks,

Was another method they favoured.

Then they spit it all out in front of me!

And started describing it as “amusing”.

It was “intense”, some called it “immense”,

But I just found their chatter confusing.

  

Now I can’t see the point of spitting it out,

Once you’ve got the stuff in your gob,

So I carried right on swallowing,

Trying my best not to look like a yob.

They were on about it being “floral”,

It was “delicate” I must understand,

And when they said it was “well-balanced”,

By this time, I had a glass in each hand.

I couldn’t frown, as I let it slip down -

They said it was “full-bodied” and “smooth” -

But by now I was cursed, with a great raging thirst,

And my drinking was looking uncouth.

The “complex notes” passed by their throats,

And there were “distinctive undertones”,

But this “fragrant” medium, had turned into tedium,

As I threw back the Cotes de Rhone.

At lasht they were talking of the “finish”,

Of how the “fragrant notes” really shung.

They were lying, to call it shatisfying,

The tashte hung around on my teeth & my tongue.

To be perfectly honesht, I’d had enough,

My legsh felt shaky; I went t’wards the door,

Everything looked all kind of doubled;

I needed no more, as slowly I shlid to the floor.

Sho take the moral of thish shtory;

And lishen to me when I try hard to shpeak:

Don’t drink too fasht, try and make it lasht,

And – shorry – I’ve to dash for a leak!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

When Did Smartphones Become So Dumb?

I'm sure my so-called "smart" phone is stupid.  It seems to need a fantastically good signal to do anything - not like my old mobile.  This poem was born of my frustration of not being able to get through, to send & receive clearly, on demand, but to be at the mercy of technology, time & cyberspace.

Hanging On

I thought it was meant to be progress?

This stuff they call technology?

My smart-phone’s turned into a dumb-phone,

And 4G’sjust  a piece of kidology.

I don’t want to download, I don’t want to upload,

I don’t want to jabber in code:

I just want to talk to the bloke who lives down the road.

This lack of signal’s a pain, I’m giving myself wrist-sprain

I’m going insane, whilst trying to gain

The position to “send” once again

I’d be in my element, I’d become a real gent

If this text could be sent

But instead I’m reduced to railing

Cos the damned thing keeps failing

The designer of this should be quailing

If I got near him he’d be wailing

I’d want the bugger jailing

I get really riled, each time when I’ve dialled

One of the numbers I’ve filed

When it says it’s unknown, then it fails with a groan

And I can’t find a dial-tone, or enough bars on the phone

I’ll admit that I’ve cried, whenever I’ve tried

To follow the User Guide, then I get “Access Denied”

I’ve even tried bending

To improve the chances of sending

It’s my money I’m spending

But the damned things always offending

My hair I’m tearing and rending

The problems are never-ending

And my messages and calls are tending

To a status of “pending”

Why can’t I get through? 

What am I supposed to do?

I think I should sue!

I’m clearly stating, that this situation I’m hating

I’m fed up of waiting, the problem’s never-abating

It shouldn’t fail, it’s not the Holy Grail!

Not on this scale, it’s beyond the pale

So I think I’ll give up and go back to email

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Rhubarb Crumble!

The garden is suddenly full of rhubarb!  Here's a recipe for a great crumble topping.

Recipe for: CRUMBLE (sweet topping for baked fruit dishes)

Ingredients:

• 140g self-raising flour
• 85g butter, fridge-cold
• 50g light brown muscovado sugar
• 50g chopped walnuts, or rolled oats (optional)
• 1 tblsp Demerara sugar

Method:

1. sift flour into a mixing bowl
2. rub in the butter until the mixture is like breadcrumbs
3. add the sugar & nuts/ oats
4. scatter evenly onto the top of your chosen fruit e.g. rhubarb, gooseberries
5. sprinkle the top with Demerara
6. bake for about 30 minutes in 190C/ 180C fan/ gas 6 oven until golden brown & crusty
7. stand for 5 minutes before serving

What else you need to know:

1. the fruit will remain scalding hot – be careful
2. serve with cream, ice-cream or custard

A Different Country

A Different Country

Things were different way back then

We accepted different things

How our heroes sailed before the mast

And behaved the way they did

Because no-one knew to stop them

But today we’re ready to talk about the past

Seeds sown so many years ago

Lain dormant, suddenly awaking

And tear-watered, flourish fast

And grow into monstrous shapes

Cast long shadows on the guilty

And leave the public quite aghast

A long, long shameful silence

Brooding on bottled-up emotions

And how history’s since been cast

Now emerging into light of day

And moved to naming famous names

How could they expect such lies to last?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013