Covid-19 Enquiry

 

National 'Enquiries' can be both good and bad. It's always good to know exactly what happened in the the cases of disasters, or crises. But they can also be responsible for divisive muck-raking.

I have no idea who the people are who led the Covid-19 Enquiry in the UK. Their findings were published on Thursday 20th, and accused almost everyone of wrong-doing or incompetence. 

'Hindsight' is a wonderful thing, and one must never forget that Covid claimed the lives of over 7 Million people; 232,000 of whom were here in the UK. 

Covid was a new and dangerous illness. We all knew that it spread like wildfire, and that the effects could be fatal. Wisdom suggested that we should have as little contact with others as possible. We stayed at home, wore our masks and sterilised our hands. Most of us were also inoculated. There was PANIC everywhere. We literally thought we could die; and many did!

Our own government made drastic decisions to save us from disaster. Boris Johnson, the then Prime Minister, took advice from the country's top experts; Chris Whitty The Chief Medical Officer, and Sir Patrick Vallance The Chief Scientific Advisor (both above in photo with Boris), amongst others. Together they decided that a period of 'Lockdown' was the only way to help stop the spread of the disease, and save lives; which it did.

I was in France during the pandemic. We live way-out in the countryside so were almost immune, other than when shopping became imperative. We had our jabs, and managed to evade any illness. We did both eventually contact Covid, but that was a couple of years later back in the UK. For us the experience was no worse than a nasty cold. 

The recent Covid-19 Enquiry was chaired by Baroness Hallett; someone I haven't heard of. I believe she was a big-wig Judge. I taught Whitty (Centre in photo) at Prep' School before he went up to Malvern, and seeing his daily broadcasts during the pandemic, gave me great confidence in their collective wisdom.

Personally I found this enquiry unnecessary, and divisive. We suffered, we survived, and it's now part of our history. We've all learnt lessons, so let's not now drag-up what some ex-Judge thinks we COULD have done better. Retrospective sniping may please the anti-Boris stalwarts, but it helps no-one.

Personally I would prefer that governments of all political colours look after our welfare, rather than listen to some judge with no medical or scientific knowledge, who makes pronouncements about what they should or shouldn't have done.

Let's now put it to sleep, and get on with our lives. Although, of course, Covid is still around!

Dog appeal.

I've had just four dogs in my life. Hamlet (a scruffy terrier mut), Monty (yellow lab), Bok (black lab/border collie mix), and currently Billy (border collie). See side-bar.

When walking with Billy, I've noticed that he makes people smile! My other dogs had always been generally admired (mostly by fellow dog owners), but lots of people now stop and chat to me about Billy, and ask if they can stroke him. I'm sure most of them are not 'dog-people'. He seems to have a universal appeal.

I was talking about this to a fellow BC owner, and she said that people just love to see a black and white dog coming towards them. 

Personally I think that it makes people dream of Welsh mountains, or even of that old TV programme 'One Man and his Dog' (a sheep trial competition). 

There certainly is something about a black and white 'sheepdog' that people instantly warm-to; in the same way that people love Black Labs and Golden Retrievers. 

If you don't believe me; buy one!

 

Modern poaching.

Having heeded the advice of several recent comments, I searched out my two silicone egg poachers.

I can't remember who gave them to me, but I suspect it was Kimbo. 

As you can see, they are yellow, single egg, silicone, poachers; with ears. I gave them a good wash, put a small lump of butter in each one, and placed them in a pan of boiling water. When the butter had melted, I added the eggs.

They worked extremely well. After about five minutes, the final product was exactly as you want a poached egg to be. A firm white, with a just cooked yolk; and buttery. Freshly ground black pepper and a pinch of salt finished the job.

They are, of course, neatly shaped, and would look very nice on any dish that required an egg on top. They do also taste a little different to a fried egg, on account of the lack of oil. I'm not sure if that's better or not; more a question of taste.

From now on, I shall keep my poachers close at hand. A better answer to an under/over cooked boiled egg, and a more healthy answer to a fried one. Not much to complain about there!

I have a dedicated, stainless steel, four egg, poaching pan in France. It sits on top of a cupboard awaiting my attention, but frankly I can't remember when it was last used. I seem to remember that the individual cups have very sharp edges; which remain to be corrected. Between now and next Summer, I shall consider its future.

N.B. This morning it is COLD. I see on my forecast that it is 0 C, but feels like -13 C. For the first time this Winter I have put the central heating on, and I've given the Foxes an extra amount of Food.

Success.

Last Summer's jam making is now under serious scrutiny.

With the advance of Winter, I buy Crumpets and English Muffins, which are usually consumed in the afternoons with a cup of Lapsang.

The toppings are chosen from amongst our jams made this past August. Recently it's been Muffins that have graced our tea table, and the jam has been my 'Great Greengage'.

Not all my jams have been a success. My Blackberry Jam was just about OK, but it was a little like eating tiny black bullets in Blackberry Jelly. I shan't be making that again.

However, my Greengage Jam has proved to be delicious. I can't remember having made it before so it was a bit of an experiment. The Plums were cut in half, the pip removed, and to every kilo of fruit I used 600 gms of Jam Sugar and the juice of a Lemon. Just ordinary, standard, Jam making.

It has turned out to be really nice; quite different to the 'wild' Plum Jam that I made earlier in the season. I also made some Fabulous Fig Jam this year, but I think I must have left it in France; I can't find any here.

We have so much fruit that ripens whilst we're out in France that it would be crazy not to use it. Lady M always makes her own Apricot Jam (she won't eat her morning Croissants with anything else), and Strawberry Jam. I do all the others.

It's not a lot of work Jam making, in fact it's a real pleasure. Now, when I eat it on a cool afternoon in Sussex, I am reminded of the sunshine, the fruit picking, and our little kitchen filled with the aromas of various different Jams. What could be better!

 

Old fashioned breakfast.

How may people do you know who sit down to a couple of boiled eggs in the morning?

Probably none!

The last time I had boiled eggs was when Kimbo came for breakfast a couple of months ago, and I decided to surprise him. I'm afraid it surprised me too, as they were a bit under cooked.

It was this last Sunday morning, and the fridge contained all sorts of nice breakfasty things. I stood looking at it all with the fridge door wide open, and I simply couldn't decide. However, I did note that there were lots of eggs.

It was just after 5 am and I was busy, so I decided on something that would cook itself. After a solitary nearly five mins boiling time, they were done. Maybe this time a tad more cooked that I would have liked, but they were still very nice.

Of course the only crucial thing about boiling eggs is the TIMING. Delia Smith's aunt would sing three verses of 'Onward Christian Soldiers' to time hers, but I'm a bit more prosaic. I follow Woodrow Wyatt's method, and time them for exactly four and a quarter minutes. However, from what moment one starts the four and a quarter minutes is anyone's guess.

I like eggs in all their forms (other than scrambled). When in doubt eat a couple of eggs; BOILED.

p.s. I do remember writing about some celeb-chef's foolproof method. I must look it up. I think he brought the water to 'a rolling boil' from cold, turned it off, then left covered for a further five minutes. I seem to remember that it worked; I must check for details.

The Culprit.

I had left the sitting room to pop upstairs for something or other, and as soon as I entered the hallway, I could smell a strange, and alien, whiff.

Our hall doesn't usually smell of anything; it's just a hall with a few coats, shoes, and Billy's Tennis balls. So, what could it be?

When I came downstairs again I mentioned the 'pong' to Lady M, and she said she'd also smelt something strange.

The previous evening we'd had some friends here, and Lady M had placed the above lamp outside on the doorstep, complete with lit 'Tea light' inside (it gets dark early). The following morning she brought it inside and left it in the hall.

It was the only thing in the hall that didn't normally live there, and it immediately became the number one suspect. When I gave it a sniff, it was obvious that we had found the culprit. It STANK.

The only reason for the smell (that we could think of) was either Fox Pee, or Cat Spray. The latter probably being the stronger of the two, and the more likely (we have two Cats next door). An unpleasant smell if ever there was one.

The lamp was instantly taken out to the back patio, where I hope it will be rained on copiously.

PHWAAAH!

 

Our favourite national cuisine.

The amount of international cuisine on offer these days is quite amazing. In my regular UK supermarket I can buy foods from all around the world, including Halal and Kosher.

Having been born in 1946, I can still remember that the only Rice available in the shops was 'Pudding Rice'. Pasta was still unheard of, and China was just some far off place where people smoked Opium.

Curry was still considered exotic in the 50's and 60's, and it eventually became popular via packets made by Vesta; as did certain so-called Chinese dishes. People knew no better. It took another 60 years for Chicken Tikka Masala to become Britain's favourite dish.

Chinese and Thai foods have now become so popular that take-away restaurants are everywhere.

However, North African dishes are yet to become favourites, and I expect that will remain so. 

Most households would now eat Pasta or Pizza every week. We eat Swedish Meatballs, German Sauerkraut, Greek Salads, French Croissants, Spanish Paella, Turkish Kababs, and Danish Pastries.

French cuisine, once regarded as the epitome of fine-dining, is really very similar to English cuisine, and in fact I think we have now overtaken them in the gastronomic league table. Their decline is very noticeable in France itself.

I am personally very fond of Ground Cumin, so any excuse to use some is welcomed, and North African dishes appear often on the Magnon table.   

So what is my favourite national cuisine? I really don't know, but The Maghreb, China, and India are all jostling for first place. I really must make my mind up!