Did I overstep?

Maybe my reference to Bruckner and praise in my last post was hyperbole but check out this link to see what others say.

In fact I rarely listen to Bruckner, strange though that might seem when the very name of my blog venerates him. But then I rarely eat fish pie or golden syrup filled trifle sponges. For each one the reason is partly circumstantial (I will not listen to good music unless it is quiet and I have some chance of hearing the whole performance, and my lifestyle does not often grant me such conditions), and partly because a great experience repeated too often is in danger of becoming commonplace. Whilst the thought of golden syrup at every meal sends certain thrills, I rather think I might tire at last.

Talking about golden syrup, does anyone else out there venerate evaporated milk as I do? Another family here venerates condensed milk to a similar degree. Whilst both substances start with reduced milk, and the original purpose of each was to preserve milk, they are very different in taste. So I did a bit of research. Condensed milk has, of course, a lot of sugar added and this helps preserve it. Evaporated milk, on the other hand, has no added sugar and thus has a shorter shelf life even when tinned. To help combat this, the process of making evaporated milk raises it to a higher temperature, so high that it starts to caramelise and it is this which gives it its characteristic taste. I should have known, caramel lover than I am. There is no way to start the day quite so pleasing as breakfast cereal with a healthy slosh of evaporated milk added to the normal whole milk and sugar.

And, talking about a pleasing start to the day, I was concocting a new temperature scale (as one does) whilst taking a longer than usual, and rather chilly run this afternoon, barefoot with Meg around the lake shore around by Baltiboys bridge. It goes something like this:

> 25'C is far too hot for life as we know it here in Ireland
20-25'C very hot and rather exceptionable
15-20'C hot: this and above is good for swimming in lakes, rivers or sea
10-15'C warm, OK for Autumn swimming but a bit parky in Spring
5-10'C cool, and most common here in Ireland
0-5'C cold, chilly when wet under-barefoot
< 0'C freezing, barefoot running is OK only if it is dry

A bit of wind-chill factor can be added to this rough guide, but the weather forecasters overdo it. And there is a bit of seasonal hysteresis especially for swimming because of the thermal mass of water.

Fish pie, Rachmaninoff and Hamlet

Boys School, Smock Alley Theatre

Last evening I accompanied my wife and friend to a performance of Hamlet at the Smock Alley theatre, Dublin. The venue was interesting and the acting was good, I am sure, but Shakespeare isn't my scene even if it is his 450'th birthday. I find it too wordy, stilted, abrasive and foreign. Like - a morass of words (no doubt clever but the cleverness passes me by) hung on a thin skeleton of props and acting. I had done my homework so roughly knew the plot, but I couldn't follow all the speech partly because the actors spoke so quickly, or quietly, and partly because my hearing is not the best. Our friend said he had the same problem and he is only a teenager. And then the plot is not exactly uplifting. Most of the characters end up being murdered. About the only element of wonder I found was to consider whether Hamlet's motives were at all honourable. Whilst revenge is understandable it is hard to see why one should be entertained by it. So, all in all, I found it rather hard and unrewarding work. Sorry, for those of my readers who may think Shakespeare plays are the bee's knees: I will not stand in your way!

Anyway, to continue my argument - at one point in the play there was Ophelia, who was probably expressing her love for Hamlet at the time, when the first movement of Rachmaninoff 2nd piano concerto started playing in the background. My attention was immediately absorbed by the music and I wished it could have continued, that we could have dispensed with the rest of the play.

So why do I find music so much more engaging that talking? It is a bit like my vast preference of fish pie over a complicated dish such as an avant garde restaurant might serve. Fish pie is good all the way through. No surprises, just plain old reliable good. Especially with cheese on top and ketchup and peas. I can become immersed in the experience: it is sensual, pleasing, I am carried by and can identify with it. Granted, sheer pleasure is not the only reason for doing stuff - just possibly I have become educated and more erudite by attending Hamlet - but surely entertainment should be entertaining? Just occasionally a poem might light my fire but, generally, I don't do words well - words are functional and I can get frustrated with people who use more of them than I think necessary. Whereas - if music be the food of love, play on...

My birthday?

Fish Pie à ma mater

Mine!

All for me!

Me having a real birthday? My birthday still?

Many thanks to all you who thought about me. And thanks for the Facebook wishes. And for the gifts. It's kind of nice to have a birthday even if one doesn't believe in them!

I had a magnificent dinner - fish pie as my mother made it - although I had to make it myself as Ali took the grandchildren out out to see Swan Lake.

I do not have an official recipe so the following is roughly what I did tonight and is based on what I can remember of how my mother's fish pie tasted. It worked - everyone who partook said they enjoyed it.

Take some fresh white fish (e.g. cod - in this instant it was hake), NOT smoked. Poach it for about 10 minutes in one pint of milk (one pint is good for 4 people). Drain and put to one side to cool. Retain the milk.

Peel and boil some potatoes. Drain and mash with butter, milk salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Using the same saucepan as you poached the fish it, melt 2 oz of butter, take off the heat and mix with 2 oz of plain flour to make a roux. Slowly add the hot milk mixing well all the time. Return to a gentle heat and bring to the boil stirring all the time thus making a thick white sauce. Do not use cornflour!

Grate about 4 oz of cheese, and add a little less than half to the white sauce.

Remove any skin from the fish and give to the cat. Flake the flesh and extract any bones.

Take a deep oven dish, grease with butter, and use about 1/3 of the mashed potato as a base layer. Pour half the white sauce over this layer. Now arrange the fish over the potato and cover with the remaining white sauce. Carefully spoon the remaining potato on top, level and fork, then cover with the remaining cheese.

Bake in an oven for about 30 minutes, if necessary grill to brown the cheese.

Serve with peas, tomato ketchup and white wine, and share with your best friend.