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Archive for the ‘Robin Ellis’ Category

Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple has died, aged 56. In an early interview with Playboy magazine he is quoted as saying:

We just wanted to build the best thing we could build.

When you’re a carpenter making a beautiful chest of drawers, you’re not going to use a piece of plywood on the back, even though it faces the wall and nobody will ever see it. You’ll know it’s there, so you’re going to use a beautiful piece of wood on the back. For you to sleep well at night, the aesthetic, the quality, has to be carried all the way through.” (my italics)

This put me in mind of John Bloomfield, the costume designer on the first series of Poldark.

I remember once seeing John sitting on a dry stone wall in Cornwall while we were filming, sewing a button onto a part of a costume that would never be caught on camera, but was an authentic period detail.

It didn’t matter to him that it probably would never be seen, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep well that night if his costume had been incomplete!

We had worked together “B.P.” (Before Poldark!) on an adaptation of Guy de Maupassant’s social satire, Bel Ami.

He made me 17 stunning suits for the five-part serialisation, all of which he would sketch out beforehand in an original way.

John's pasted paper sketch for a George Duroy suit

With pieces of coloured paper–cutting like a tailor–he would build a patchwork portrait of the outfit.

Attention to detail from the start!

Rest In Peace– Steve Jobs.

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I was back in Cornwall last weekend for the first book signing session at Waterstone’s in Truro.

The county is in fine form and this cathedral town was buzzing on Saturday morning.

Bev–who with her husband had driven all the way from Nottingham–made me feel a little underdressed!

Here’s my interview with the excellent and sympathetic Martin Bailie at BBC Radio Cornwall last Friday–me trying to avoid the “errs” and “ums”!.

"On the spot" at BBC Radio Cornwall!

PS–according to an email received today from the US publisher (Skyhorse)–the book is now available in the States…!

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Our friend, Marek, wasn’t happy–in fact he was downright gloomy last Sunday.

With Marek, one of the owners of Primrose Hill Books

He and his wife Jessica run the  Primrose Hill Book Shop, near where we used to live in North London.

He told us there are about 2200 high street bookshops left in Britain today compared with 4,000 in 2005.

Five hundred and eighty towns in the UK  do not have a bookshop.

According to a recent report by the data company, Experion,  the rise of internet retailers, the growing popularity of e-readers such as the Kindle and heavy discounting by supermarkets have forced nearly 2,000 bookshops to close over the last six years.
Marek and Jessica deserve to be one of the survivors–they give a wonderful service.
Order a book from them and they will post it off in double quick time and with a love of books in their hearts.
I was there to sign some books for anyone wanting a signed copy: http://www.primrosehillbooks.com/.

This Saturday, Sept. 17th, 2011 from 2.30 to about 4.00pm I shall be at Waterstone’s bookshop in Truro, Cornwall to sign copies of Delicious Dishes for Diabetics–see you there?!

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First “post-launch” post–we’ve been busy!

Twenty-two friends (many of whom, in one way or another, had helped with the book) sat down for lunch on Friday at tables set end on end under the trees–

Ma's Gazpaccio waiting patiently

–nicely protected from the sun but rain could be a problem and it has been uncharacteristically wet this year.

The skies were scoured for signs, forecasts checked hourly and finally a prayer went up to the heavens.

We were blessed–not a drop fell the entire afternoon.

A friendly sounding hum rose early from the throng–Ma’s Gazpacho was hitting the spot; as was the mellow Tuscan red poured from a 3 litre magnum–a gift from our friends Keith and Helen.

It–“the book”–was launched.

Hope James–the book’s illustrator–was there and I read this out from our friend Eva Marie’s email, received that morning:–

“Her beautiful sketches brought me right back to your cozy home and the French countryside. I am suddenly missing you and Meredith!”

That’s what they do–they bring the book to life.

Chicken was next, with unfamiliar spices–sumac and za’atar–[see part two–tomorrow– for the recipe]

An Ottolenghi special that lends itself well  to large parties.

Marinaded overnight on Wednesday, cooked in three batches Thursday afternoon and gently reheated–stacked in its juices–an hour before we ate it.

Served with plain green beans, a garlicky yogurt sauce and toasted Moroccan bread.

Then followed two lovely surprises–for me.

Fellow Poldark actor Donald Douglas [his chilled cucumber soup features in the book] tapping a glass and rising during the cheese course, meant only  one thing–he was going to speak.

He not only spoke–he sang!

“There is nothing like a Dame” from South Pacific–adapted for the occasion.

“He played Ross the brave and bold

Now here he is grey haired and old”.

Now another surprise.

My old friend George–one of three distinguished judges present–touched me and everyone with his words on long lasting friendship.

What a day!

[A second helping promised for tomorrow…!]

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It’s a fair bet my Mother first tasted this traditional summer soup from Andalusia in 1953–when my parents took brother Peter and me to the Costa Brava for a two week holiday. Dad worked for British Railways and got a certain amount of concessionary travel in Europe.

There were five hotels at that time in Lloret del Mar (five hundred plus now!).

We stayed in one of them with a pretty courtyard–twenty yards from the beach.

I don’t remember the soup but the egg fried in olive oil I can taste to this day!

Franco’s military police, patrolling the beach in funny hats and holding not-so-funny machine guns, also made an impression. No such thing at on the sands at Woolacombe!

About a kilo collected this morning--a little more than the recipe.

Molly Ellis’ Recipe (slightly adapted!)

Chop the tomatoes roughly–and put them in the food processor.

Chop up half a large, peeled cucumber and half a large,  red pepper–seeded–(she calls them pimentoes) and add them to the processor.

I add a couple of spring onions (scallions)–chopped. (Ma adds a yellow onion–which I’ll try next time).

Mash up 3 cloves of garlic, as she does, with a little salt–and add them to the processor.

Pulse the contents–not too smooth a finish.

Empty this already tasty mix into a bowl and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper.

Stir in 3 tablespoons of red wine vinegar and two tablespoons of olive oil.

A few drops of Tabasco–as she suggests–a matter of taste.

(At lunch today I added an ice cube to each bowl instead of water.)

Chill for a couple of hours.

We found a ladle each is enough–with a whirl of olive oil to finish?

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…the book!

an early chapter introduction...

with one of the twelve lovely sketches in the book by our friend Hope James–and…

... a seasonal recipe.

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…though not so lazy for our neighbouring farmer, Pierre.

I watch him from the bench in the tomato patch, performing an elegant tractor ballet routine in the shorn field opposite  as he collects and neatly stacks the rectangular hay bales.

First the “chug, chug, chug,” of a tractor as he arrives on stage, pulling an empty trailer behind.

He drives off in the “work-a-day” car he’s left overnight in the half-finished field.

Five minutes later (a long wait for the audience!) he’s back with a second tractor, fitted with a fork lift.

The ballet commences.

Forward approach with the fork lift tractor and spear the bale–forward again to the next.

Carefully lower the speared bale on top and back off–forward again lowering the fork, spear the second bale, lift the two and turn towards the tractor with the trailer, lower the two speared bales and retreat.

Turn and repeat until the trailer is full.

Change tractors and drive off slowly with the spoils on board and the sun still shining with the prospect of well fed cows in the barn this winter.

The “audience” leaves with a couple of ripe tomatoes in the empty breakfast bowl.

The tractor with the fork lift is left wondering what it did wrong as it stands alone “on stage”.

Act two for the watcher–checking out the leftovers in the fridge for a lazy Monday lunch.

Plenty to choose from and two ripe tomatoes….

Act threelazy Monday siesta!

STOP PRESS!

LATE CHANGE OF SCRIPT!

An advance copy of the COOKBOOK arrived in the post today!

🙂

Grand Finale!?

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Our  houseguest, Romaine, says she has a penchant for meat these days.

So off to visit Monsieur Fraisse, our butcher in Lautrec, in search of fillet of lamb for a marinade I’ve found.

Meredith and I don’t eat meat that often. My knowledge of the finer points of French boucherie is limited.

“Filet?–ça n’existe pas!”

“Aah….”

Monsieur Fraisse knows his meat. Like his father before him, he selects and buys locally.

M. Fraisse explains...

But our friend Romaine says she used to cook it in Cheshire, many moons ago–with Elizabeth David as a guide.

As far as she remembers the fillet was a boned loin of lamb.

It was sliced into neat nuggets she calls noisettes–a French word apparently not used in a French boucherie–at least not by Monsieur Fraisse.

The English, the French and the Americans all have their traditional ways of cutting up meat–and their own terminology.

It’s confusing, though from the way Monsieur Fraisse describes the cote de filet [chop] boned, it sounds much the same.

Anyway…

“when in Rome….”!

We walk out–still confused–but clutching a bag of lamb to marinade and looking forward to dinner!

Happy Roman

A tasty marinade for 

4 lamb chops or other small cuts!

A good handful of mint leaves

4 tablespoons olive oil

4 large garlic cloves–pulped with a pinch of salt

50g/2 oz anchovy fillets–pulped

Whizz the last four ingredients together in a mixer and coat the chops in it in a bowl.

Leave to marinade for a couple of hours.

Heat a griddle to hot and grill the chops for a couple of minutes both sides–the time will depend on your taste and the thickness of the chops.

Seasonal vegetables like green beans or grilled tomatoes would go well with the chops.

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Steadily–in twos at the moment.

Meredith came in from the garden yesterday and offered me two fat strawberries.

I “harvested” two raspberries this morning.

We have already eaten two courgettes.

Tomatoes are small green golf balls–but it’s only the first week of June.

The rain this week and now the sun has made us hopeful.

“Mary Mary quite contrary–” 

My Aunt Mary was contrary–contrary enough to live to 92–and a talented gardener.

She transformed a long rectangle behind her Suffolk cottage into something magical, with a fishpond at the end. She loved her garden and reigned over her 90th birthday party in it–on a glorious early July day.

She and my father were privately adopted in 1915 by my grandmother, who was 40 and a widow.

Granny taught violin and brought the two children up as a single mother. She lived to 87 and was contrary too–according to my mother!

Young Dad--RAF trainee

My father was an enthusiastic gardener–Dahlias in October, as I recall….He grew vegetables too–important in post war Britain where some food was rationed until 1954!

I have not inhereted the gene.

…with silver bells and cockle shells

And pretty maids all in a row.

This nursery rhyme has nothing to do with gardens, I discover, but disguises a darker theme (http://www.rhymes.org.uk/mary_mary_quite_contrary.htm).

A corner of our garden--no sign of silver bells and cockle shells...just a couple of canoodling snails this morning.

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I’m discovering that blogging can become addictive.

We are in London for a week and I’m not cooking–so my source material is limited and I’m finding it difficult and frustrating.

I’m having blog withdrawal symptoms!

This is not reasonable I know.

London is coming out of winter fast and looks beautiful.

A willow tree close to the river in Chiswick was a cascade of bright fresh green and a large grey heron was sunning himself on the river bank.

Every morning there are new blossoms out.

We were driving north on Devonshire Place towards Regent’s Park just now when Meredith started singing–

“I’ve often walked down this street before;
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before.”

It was the emerging cherry blossom  both sides of the street that evoked the feeling of Freddie Eynseford-Hill’s joy filled ode to Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady!

Primrose Hill was covered with lunchtime picnickers and it’s not the end of March yet, though the clocks go forward tomorrow.

Nevertheless reasonableness doesn’t come into it and in spite of being spoiled with some good theatre and meals with friends, I still felt a dish of cold turkey was all there’d be for lunch!

I eased the pain by enquiring about pollack, in the well run fish shop on Gloucester Avenue.

The friendly French owner gave me the french name–lieu jaune, which I remember seeing on the stalls back home.

It’s a member of the cod family and a sustainable alternative to other white fish. Its resurfacing, so to speak, is not uncontroversial though.

They were out of it, but he recommended coley instead.

Tonight I shall cook FISH.

Phew–withdrawal of symptoms!

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