15 Chilli

Here is a recipe for making chilli.  Sorry there are no exact measurements as I just chuck stuff in and taste as necessary, usually making a huge pot and freezing some of it

Ingredients
good quality beef mince (leaner the better)
diced lean pork chops or chunks (optional)
oil
onion
garlic cloves
ground cumin
tin of chipotles in adobo
dried paesillo chilli (optional)
tins of chopped tomatos
tin of red kidney beans
very small piece of dark chocolate

Method
Chop the onion and garlic up then gently cook in some oil in a large saucepan for about 10 minutes or thereabouts.  Add the mince and brown.  If using the pork too I usually brown it in another pan as there isn't enough room in the one with mince in it.  Add the pork to the mince once it has been browned.  Stir in the cumin - lots of it.

I have tried adding chicken rather than pork but it just doesn't work.  I've also used chunks of chorizo which adds a great deal of colour though can be a bit chewy with the lumps of fat in it.  I've also tried using chunks of stewing beef instead of mince and it was so hot it was almost inedible as there wasn't enough meat to soak up the heat of the chillis.

 The chipotles I like are made by a company called La Preferida and can be bought from Lupe Pintos in Edinburgh. If you want a mild chilli remove one chipotle from the tin and a teaspoon or so of the adobo sauce, chop up the chilli and add to the mixture.  You can keep the rest for ages in a jar or tub in the fridge.  If you want the chilli to be wild add and chop up all the chillis.  Throw in a whole, dried paesillo chilli for a really earthy taste too but remove before serving.




Next, add the tins of tomatos.  You could use passatta if you prefer.  I usually use enough to cover the meat already in the pan. Cook on a fairly low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes or so.  Then add in the tin of kidney beans and grate in the piece of dark chocolate.  It has to be dark chocolate not milk chocolate and don't use too much or it tastes like a dessert.  Stir all this in and cook for another 30 minutes or so, again stirring every so often.

You can tell if the chilli is ready by standing a wooden spoon in the centre of the pot.  If the wooden spoon stands upright in the middle of the pot without falling then the chilli is ready.  If it wavers or slides to one side then you need to cook it for a while longer.  Remember to remove the paesillo chilli (if you're using it) before plating up.

For best results decant into a sealed tub and, once cold, put in the fridge and leave for 24 hours before reheating and serving.  Freeze the rest to cook at a later date.

Serve with rice, nachos, tortillas, chips...and a liberal dose of my pico di gallo sauce (reciple posted here a couple of months ago).  A good, strong red wine, such as rioja, goes well with this.

I admit it doesn't look terribly appetising in this picture but it does taste good, honest!

14 Composing

I've had a sibeliusmusic site for several years and, thanks to that, have had many downloads and prints of my music right the way round the world.  What I have never really found out is whether the people who have printed my music have performed it and whether they - and the audience - have enjoyed my music.  The few bits of feedback I have have received have been positive which is gratifying but I could improve as a composer, and self publisher, with more feedback from those who print and perform the music I write. 

I'm creating pages on this blog with examples of pieces I have written for various ensembles and occasions.  The list is on the left of this page.  If you would like to get hold of a complete copy of any of these pieces please email me.  If you like the music please let me know!  If you dislike the music, or feel there is some way in which I could improve then, once again, please let me know.

13 Books I Read This Summer

Why Does E=MC2 by Brian Cox
I never understood Maths at school.  That’s not strictly true.  I sort of understood it up until about the middle of 2ndyear of secondary school but then the subject lost me.  It wasn’t just the complexity of the maths involved,it was the seeming lack of practical application.  Calculus, coordinate geometry and all the rest of it seemed so alien, so lacking in any intrinsic worth or relevance to everyday life that it left me cold.  If my maths teachers – the last of whom in particular I have every respect for – had demonstrated to me how a certain abstract equation involving x, y, dx=2, lots of (), / and ∑, ∝etc resulted in a bridge standing up, or an engine working, or even the difference between equally and well tempered klaviers, well, maybe I would have got it.   Sadly the exam system didn’t allow for “why” only “how”.  One drunken night after too much Newcastle Brown, I read A Brief History of Timefrom cover to cover at a scientist friend’s house.  I understood every word.  It was beautiful, it made sense on every level both aesthetic and scientific and I felt I understood my place in the universe and the sheer joy of its complexity.  When I woke up the next day I had forgotten everything other than that I had felt enlightened some hours previously.  Interestingly, that same evening I explained sonata form to my scientist friend and he got it with Brown goggles on but was none the wiser the next morning too.  Since then I’ve read many “popular science” books, starting with Fermat’s Last Theorem whichwas published just after Andrew Wiles claimed to have solved this mathematical riddle of riddles.  I read David Boudanis’ book E=MC2 and enjoyed it.  At the start of this summer I bought Brian Cox’s offering on the same subject.  Despite the blurb offering a layman’s guide to this most famous equation going, and many exhortations that a few pages of maths could be skipped if you didn’t understand it, I was back to the morning after A Brief History of Time or, more likely, 2ndyear Maths (“I’ve got a sore tummy, Mam, I can’t go to school…”).  Just like with 2ndyear maths, I gave up half way through.  I don’t usually give up books I’ve started, I usually persevere through to the very end but,I’m afraid I failed.  Just like my Extra Maths O level.

Pandaemonium by Christopher Brookmyre
I’ve read several of Brookmyre’s novels over the years and have found them hugely entertaining if rather gory.  The ones I’ve read have tended to be blood spattered, a bit rude, fastpaced and very funny in parts.  Pandaemoniumwas all of these things.  The best way of describing it is like a mixture of Trainspotting and The X-Files, with a bit of Angels and Demons and Wallender mixed in for fun. Despite the jolly romp of murder, sex, swearing and religious iconography, the novel did raise some important moral issues such as do the means sometimes justify the ends of a certain dogma and the perennial “don’t judge a book by its cover”.

Transition by Iain Banks
I tried reading Banks in his “Iain M Banks” guise some years ago and unfortunately chose Fearsum Endjinn whichis written in phonetics when a certain character is narrating.  I found this very irritating.  I managed to read Trainspotting and the scripts of Rab C Nesbiteven, despite their Scots-phonetic spelling as, having lived in Scotland for some time, I’d learned a bit of the vernacular.  Fearsum Endjinndid my head in and thus put me off both Iain and Iain M.  Until I bought this book at least.  Again the story was told from several viewpoints and it was interesting to see how each subplot evolved and developed between the various protagonist’ssnapshots.  The multiple universe idea is, of course, nothing new but having a being able to jump from universe to universe and inhabit an unknowing human who has no idea of what they were doing whilst “possessed” was new to me and an interesting conceit.  I’ve revised my opinion of Banks and will try him again, maybe starting with The Wasp Factory as it’s reckoned to be fairly decent.

Bluestockings by Jane Robinson
“Bluestockings”, it seems, was a term of abuse for young ladies in the late 19th and early 20thcentury who had the temerity to seek a university education.  In a patriarchal world where a woman’s role was clearly defined ie to look after the house of eitherher parents, husband or brothers if unmarried, an education was considered a waste of resources for even the most intelligent and articulate of girls.  The blue stockings were themselves a sort of stereotypical uniform of those woman who did make it into higher education. Bluestockings is an account of the earliest days of women at universities and the difficulties presented along the way – fathers refusing to let their child leave the family home, chaperones everywhere to ensure dignity and chastity, universities tolerating rather than welcoming ladies’ colleges and the refusal of universitiesto even award degrees to ladies who had completed the same exams as men – one very high profile name until not that very long ago (Cambridge, by the way…). The passion for learning of the women whose stories are told is undeniable.  It seems that most of them went on to marriage, motherhood and housewifery after the excitement of the forbidden fruit of an education but these pioneers opened the doors for later generations and the current crop of school leavers of either sex who see a university education as more of a right than a privilegewould do well to read this volume.  The main thing which struck me, however, was how much I identified with many of the young women who felt out of their depth, particularly socially, at many of the seats of learning, especially Oxbridge.  Obviously I’m a bloke so there are no sexist parallels between myself and these early female students but I found that I saw myself in many of the situations which arose eg the young lady not understanding the dress code for various functions (I didn’t know what “black tie” meant), those who found that the place seemed to be full of extremely confident and popular peers (oh boy, did I find 1styear difficult), and, most painfully, the subjects who felt that they had made the wrong choice but who battled on in order not to let anyone down.  For late 19th century women read late 20th century Merthyr boys.

And Another Thing by Eoin Colfer
I read all the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxybooks as a teenager.  Apart from the ones which were published after I wasa teenager of course.  I seemto have missed one though as I had no idea that Arthur Dent and Trillian had a daughter called Random Dent.  However, I didn’t let this put me off.  I didn’t let the fact that Douglas Adams is dead put me off either.  It certainly didn’t put Eoin Colfer off as he sort of carried on where Adams had left off – I assume, at least, as the book I seem to have missed or forgotten came between So Long and Thanks for All the Fish and this one in a chronological order of publication – and his writing, for me at least, was sympathetic to Adams’ style and the plot development seemed to be fairly natural, or at least as natural as may be expected in the Hitchhiker’smode of operation.  One thing did strike me, however (and no, not a whale falling from the sky).  Isn’t the Hitchhiker’s Guideessentially mobile internet?   Douglas Adams saw it all coming….

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
…as did Ray Bradbury.  This is one of those books which I felt I should have read by now, like To Kill a Mockingbird and Catch 22but I’ve never got round to it.  I’m glad I read it now rather than in my teens as I wouldn’t have seen the relevance of it to modern society.  The wrap around, 4 wall tv screens spewing out non-stop, soundbite drivel?  Everyone plugged into their own little microuniverse watching and listening whilst ignoring those physically close?  The digital relations upon whose every word we hang?  Scary stuff.

Tragically I Was An Only Twin ed. William Cook
This book is part biography and part anthology of the life and work of Peter Cook.  Sad to say I saw it in the library, turned to the “Derek and Clive” chapter, tried not to laugh at the “Joan Crawford” sketch which had been transcribed, and thus borrowed this tome to peruse at home.  I found the biographical details of Cook’s life fascinating, from his early days entertaining friends at school to his final ruminations pretending to be a lovelorn Norwegian fisherman called Sven on a night-time phone in show on Radio Norfolk (or similar, maybe that was Alan Partridge).  I found the scripts – with the exception of the expletive strewn Derek and Clive offerings – less appealing than the biographical details.  Just seeing the largely improvised Derek and Clive in print was hilarious given the huge profanity involved.  I am one of the sad middle agedmen referred to who can almost recite “The Horn” from memory.  Cook’s relationship with Dudley Moore is central to the book of course and it is enlightening to see how Cook’s rants and rancour were directed at Moore both in Derek and Clive sketches (eg “Cancer|”” from Come Againwhich isn’t quoted in this book but which was recorded at about the time Moore’s father was either diagnosed with or died of cancer, I’m afraid I can’t remember) and in other writings such as newspaper columns.  Despite this nothing can take away from Cook’s.  Not only was Cook a master of comic characters and timing but he also used Moore’s character as a springboard for his flights of fancy.

Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
My tutor at university told us to read The Name of the Rose as we embarked on our studies of medieval music as a way of “getting into” the period.  That was 20 years ago.  I chanced upon Foucault’s Pendulum in the library, the same day that I found Tragically I Was and Only Twinand thought that it would keep the librarian’s guessing as to whether I am some sort of intellectual or merely a jumped up pleb (the latter, obviously).  The print is small and there are over 600 pages.  It took me a good 100 pages to start to enjoy the book but once I delved into this work I was hooked.  OK, some aspects I found annoying such as the quotes in various languages.  Prof. Eco and his usual demographic may be fluent in any number of languages but I found the quotes at the start of chapters and theslips into foreign tongues in conversation irritating in the extreme.  Presumably the original is not in English so why not translate it all into English for mere mortalslike myself?  My French consists of enough to order a beer but not to understand the reply telling me how much it costs. My Italian is based on musical terms such as allegro, andante, poco a poco crescendo and so on.  My Latin is exclusively the Ordinary of the mass, plus the texts of motets I’ve sung on several occasions.  However, I persevered and was glad I did.  Eco namechecks popular (or unpopular?) books such as The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail, any number of treatises on occult and esoteric subjects, deals with fairly early word processors – which really dates the story – and goes into great detail about self financing authors.  I read this book whilst away on holiday.  I don’t normally listen to Radio 4 but the radio in the house was tuned to this channel and I had it on in the background whilst doing some tidying (see, I have been domesticated).  The programme was debating self financingauthors.  How weird is that?  When I read books as a teenager, a bit of a pseudo-intellectual, introverted, artistically inclined, I read with a dictionary in hand so I could check and underline the new words I encountered.  If I’d done that with Foucault’s PendulumI’d still be on page 12.  That’s just the words in English.  Like many books of its length and complexity, the end was a bit of a let down but at least it didn’t suggest that they all lived happily ever after.

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
It must be something about the summer holidays which draws me to dystopian visions of the future – or present – so I suppose it was inevitable that I came back to Brave New World.  I can’t remember when I first read it or my reaction to it but, just like with Fahrenheit 451, I think that my personal maturity and the way the world has developed in my lifetime has brought greater resonance to this work.  Everyone belongs to everyone else…how true these days when you can find yourself posted on youtube with anyone else able to comment.  Everyone belongs to everyone else…when I was young I kept a diary and the last thing I wanted was for anyone to read it.  I imagine the rest of the “Adrian Mole” generation did similarly.  Now we’d keep a blog – rather like this I suppose – and publish our thoughts and desires for all to see.  And who was the “Savage”?: John, wishing for peace to live out his life in solitude?; the press, like modern paparazzi, harassing and goading him?; or the Alphas and Betas who came to gawp and urged him to flagellate himself for their entertainment?  Huxley invented Big Brother in the 1930s.  I’ll probably dig out 1984 or Lord of the Fliesnext.  Or maybe re-read Will Self’s Book of Dave…

12 Fringe Reviews 2

So I lied when I said I was only going to 3 shows this year.  I went to another one this evening, a sort of pick of the Fringe free show at the Meadows Bar.  One compere and about 7 short acts.  Imran Yusuf was an able compere, giving a taste of his own act, interacting with the audience – especially the unfortunate 18 year old Sophie, a Californian fitness instructor in the front row who took his fancy – and introducing the various stand ups on the bill.  He spun many racial stereotypes around, for example telling of the time he lived in America and was racially abused for being English rather than Asian, being called “teacup” and having “chin-chin” shouted after him.  Several of the stand ups were performing for the very first time or at least had not been performing long, and, despite some nerves, the occasional stumble and odd choice of subject matter (a Californian – again – lawyer doing a routine describing how to produce crystal meth for example) they did a good job and managed to keep the audience onside.  The pick of the newcomers was Rik Carranza who described himself as being half Scottish and half Thai and, therefore, according to racial stereotypes, a “tight arsed rent boy”.  Headliner Keira Murphy was more polished, delivering some snappy one liners about being a ”Weegie”and disparaging comments about her ex-boyfriend, Gordon Brown and various others.  The hour long show was a mixed but enjoyable bag. Imran Yusuf kept everything ticking over nicely, the audience responded sympathetically to the new comedians, the new comedians gained important experience in a supportive atmosphere and it was free,  Donations were asked for at the end.  I donated £5 and have seen much worse for three times that amount.  Apparently there is a different line up each night so what you get is what you get basically.  If I wasn’t going back to work tomorrow I’d probably try to go again.

11 Fringe Reviews

I've decided to review all the Fringe shows I go to this year.  As I'm only going to 3 that shouldn't be too difficult to achieve


The Alleycats - Greenside venue 231 until Saturday 21st, 9:40pm £5
The Alleycats are a young a cappella group from St Andrew's University who have made quite an impact over the last few years, appearing in the finals of "Last Choir Standing" and the "Festival of the Voice" in London.  Their performance is a brilliant mix of fine ensemble singing and slick dance routines which complement the music.  Soloists are also strong and, even in the dull acoustic at Greenside, every syllable is clear.  The arrangements are innovative and should really be written out and published - apparently the group learn by rote.  School choirs in particular would appreciate a printed arrangement of the haunting "Use Somebody" by Kings of Leon, for example.  High School Musical and Glee have, in recent years, popularised vocal harmony singing amongst youngsters whilst being far too removed from reality to be truly inspiring.  The Alleycats are truly inspiring.  Only one night left on the fringe but it would be worth checking this lot out in the future!
ps - I must admit to being biased as 2 of them used to sing in my school choir and a third was at the school I work at but, having said that, this was a truly classy performance by anyone's standards.

The Emperor's Quest
This is a show aimed at children but, like all the best children's entertainment, it works on many levels.  There is, of course, a strong moral message ie be true to yourself & cheats never prosper but there are also plenty of laughs and beautiful songs.  The singing and acting is excellent from all cast members though for me Andy Fraser as the Emperor stands out for his touchingly eccentric portrayal of the elderly monarch.  Richard Lewis leads a fine instrumental ensemble.  It is a shame that Edinburgh schools have gone back after the holiday as this show really appeals to Primary school pupils in particular.  Try to go on the weekend and you won't be disappointed.

Elis James
My wife took the children to see Elis James performing a children's comedy set at The Bongo Club. He was so good she took me to see him do his "real" show.  £5 for an hour of laughs was fantastic value.  OK, as he and I are Welsh I maybe got the running joke about Gorki's Zygotic Mynki more than other audience members, but James had a way of bringing everyone into his warped world.  The funniest thing was a joke about croissants.  If you see him and he mentions the audience member who replied "Can't argue..." I'm afraid that's me.  His self deprecating approach, brilliant accents and truly odd diary entries made this a super show which deserved more than 15 people in the audience.

10 Pico di gallo sauce

I took a foray into blogging about music last year but found I didn't really have anything to say, or, at least, anything overly positive to say at the time, so I sort of stopped just after Christmas when all the reality tv "talent" shows kicked in and sent me into paroxysms of disgust.

So I've decided to change the blog name and to write about anything I feel like, rather than music exclusively.  Here, therefore, is my recipe for Pico di Gallo sauce.  It isn't authentic but is sort of vaguely based on the pico di gallo you used to get at the Blue Parrot Cantina in Edinburgh.  The main difference is that they use sweetcorn (which I hate with vehemence) and apple (which I tolerate rather than enjoy).

The chilis I used were the first to be harvested from plants I have been growing.  They are called "Apache" chilis and a rather hot.  Use a chili of whichever level of strength on the Scoville scale you can stomach!

Pico di Gallo Sauce
1 red onion
1 fresh chili - green chili is better as it looks pretty juxtaposed against the onion and tomato
some tomatoes
1 lime

Chop the onion up nice and small.  Chop the chilli up nice and small.  Leave the seeds in if you want it to be scary.  De-seed and de-pulp the tomatoes and chop them up nice and small.  Put it all in a bowl.  Squeeze the limes over the mixture and add to tortillas, fajitas, chilli con carne, etc, etc

9 Positive start to the new year!

Happy New Year one and all!  My New Year's resolution was to write positive things in this blog about my thoughts on music and its taken me the best part of a month to face it,  so, here we go...

I positively choked with laughter when I heard Little Jimmy Osmond murdering "O Sole Mio" on "Popstar to Operastar" a few weeks ago.  Oh dear oh dear.  Firstly it ain't opera, it's a Neapolitan song.  Secondly it should have been buried in a pauper's unmarked grave when the "3 tenors" hammed it up at Italia '90 and, thirdly and most importantly, the producers should not have exhumed it and driven a stake through its heart with Osmond playing Van Helsing.

Teaching a "sleb" to sing a couple of arias is one thing and I'm sure some can cross over very well (eg Freddy Mercury could certainly have cut it as an operatic tenor, Jimmy Somerville and him out of the Darkness as counter-tenors...) but the real test of their mettle would be to send them to music college for four years, then a post-grad year, a couple of of years in the chorus, some time understudying roles then a big break, just like real opera singers have to.  The reality tv idea is to change someone instantly eg that programme when the posh girl tried to be a rapper or whatever it was.  It was all done over a few weeks with a view to a one off performance.  What about a total life change and an attrempt to excel in a totally different arena long term?

The careers of the average popstar (the mighty Quo excluded of course as they are still going strong) is about 4-5 years.  Once you're over 30 thats the end of it.  Why shouldn't Alex James pursue a new career as an opera singer?  Jason Jones (or Jason Howard as he is known professionally) was a fireman until someone heard him sing.  But Jason did it the hard - and right - way by going to music college, working like a trooper, learning the ropes and earning the breaks.  Russell Watson, as we all know, was heard belting out a tune by Alex Ferguson that well known arbiter of artistic excellence.  Watson did not go about it the right way and his voice suffered as a result.  I know he's had serious illness and I truly wish him well in his recovery and hope he regains his vocal powers and continues to entertain the many people who love his music.  He isn't an opera singer though and never will be.  Neither will Katharine Jenkins.  Nice enough voice, decorous to look at and so on but not a voice to send tingles down the spine.

So, what is positive about all this?  Well I'm positive that I am going to rant about things and vent my spleen for the rest of this year.  Of course I'm only jealous because I never had the voice to cut it in opera and never will.  However, I had a go and know full well that if I sang "O Sole Mio" as badly as Jimmy Osmond I would be rightly laughed off the stage.

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I wrote the above 2 weeks ago and didn't publish.  I caught some of the "Popstar to Operastar" programme last night and was amused to see Lawrence Llewellyn Bowen and Meatloaf giving their tuppence on the contestants.  And then I heard the drummer (possibly, I'm not a huge fan) of McFly (possibly?) learn "Partiro" at the feet of Katherine Jenkins.  As far as I'm aware (and I may be wrong) "Paritro" isn't from an opera.  Please correct me if I'm wrong.  Pleasant enough tune and, as my in-laws are huge fans of Andrea Bocelli, my children sing along to it in grandma's car (though, to my eternal gratitude, they change the words to "Fartiro"!).  BUT IT ISN'T OPERA!!!!!

It takes more than a bit of vibrato and a bad Italian accent for it to be opera.

However, if more of the general public feel that they can approach opera, or choral music, or symphonic music after watching a programme like this then I suppose I should shut up and stop ranting.  I just wish it wasn't done in such a crass manner. 

"Nessun Dorma" was on the jukebox in my local in Merthyr, a really rough as ten bears place called The Eagle.  There was silence whenever someone put it on.  The silence was for two reasons:
1  everybody there loved it and so listened intently
2  it was usually put on by a gentleman who shall remain nameless (no, not me) who had spent time at her Majesty's leisure for GBH and no-one dared talk when he was listening to Pavarotti
The tune was out of context obviously, but it introduced Merthyr's hard men (again, not me, just the main clientel of the pub) to real opera singing.

So, to come back to a positive angle to the blog, as I missed the "Queen of the Night's Aria" last night on "Popstar to Operastar" here is my very favourite interpretation.