Those of you who have been following my narrative for the last twelve years shall be aware of my fondness for the fantastic world of Bertie Wooster and his valet Jeeves.
This morning I find myself in Wooster Mode.
How would s small de luxe motor home, fitted out with the Hypnos mattress, electricity generator for all mod cons, the plain Wilton carpeting, shower unit, wardrobe for the essential Belmont attire, and so on fit the bill?
By Jove the world would be my oyster.
Perhaps I exaggerate somewhat, though you get the gist of it.
We have had the intrepid Portillo in his trains, and could we potentially have Timothy Belmont in his motor home?
I speculate that the running costs would be in the region of £1,500 to £2,000, allowing for annual insurance, MOT test, servicing, road tax, fuel costs, site fees and so on.
The journey from Belfast or Larne to Cairryan would be another factor for continental trips.
Sunday, 16 February 2020
Wednesday, 12 February 2020
The Moka Pot
If, like me, you are a confirmed aficionado of that great Sicilian detective, Inspector Montalbano, you shall be aware of his fondness for coffee, particularly the espresso type made in a Moka Pot.
Salvo Montalbano has a small, three-cup version in his house, and he’s often seen bringing the pot out with a bowl of sugar on a large tray to his balcony.
This is all quintessentially part of the Italian culture, I am in no doubt.
Moka pots are inexpensive and readily available on auction sites and so on.
Anybody who knows TImothy Belmont will know that I’m no connoisseur of coffee. I enjoy it, though I’ll happily drink the instant, freeze-dried stuff out of jars.
Nevertheless I do appreciate freshly ground coffee beans.
Recently I’ve tried the espresso variety, served in tiny cups equivalent to a large measure of gin.
I had one, in fact, at the Queen’s Film Theatre prior to watching The Lighthouse.
Having a sweet tooth I shovel a good spoonful of sugar into the cup, though, frankly, the espresso does not enthuse me at all.
What’s the point of it? If you drink it regularly does it become addictive in some way? I don’t know.
Readers, enlighten me!
Salvo Montalbano has a small, three-cup version in his house, and he’s often seen bringing the pot out with a bowl of sugar on a large tray to his balcony.
This is all quintessentially part of the Italian culture, I am in no doubt.
Moka pots are inexpensive and readily available on auction sites and so on.
Anybody who knows TImothy Belmont will know that I’m no connoisseur of coffee. I enjoy it, though I’ll happily drink the instant, freeze-dried stuff out of jars.
Nevertheless I do appreciate freshly ground coffee beans.
Recently I’ve tried the espresso variety, served in tiny cups equivalent to a large measure of gin.
I had one, in fact, at the Queen’s Film Theatre prior to watching The Lighthouse.
Having a sweet tooth I shovel a good spoonful of sugar into the cup, though, frankly, the espresso does not enthuse me at all.
What’s the point of it? If you drink it regularly does it become addictive in some way? I don’t know.
Readers, enlighten me!
Saturday, 8 February 2020
Brackenber House Dinner 2020
Last night (7th February, 2020) many Old Brackenbrians gathered once again at the Ulster Reform Club, Royal Avenue, Belfast, for our annual bash.
I managed to get a parking space at North Street, near the beginning of Rosemary Street.
When I arrived a dozen or more old boys were already there, in the Old Billiards Room on the top floor of the club.
It's always a pleasure to see old faces again, even if it's once a year, and last night was no exception.
There were fifty-five of us this year, almost identical to 2019.
Gordon Harvey and Donald Bannister always organize the dinner superbly.
The after-dinner speech was carried out with considerable aplomb and humour by CT Hogg.
It was a pleasure to meet Jeremy Burchill, who now lives in Yorkshire.
Please do send me your comments and recollections, old boys.
Sunday, 2 February 2020
Holohan's & QFT
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| Click to Enlarge |
The drive to University Square was, thank goodness, uneventful last night, unlike Christmas Eve, when somebody slammed into the back of my car as I was en route to the annual carol service at Belfast Cathedral.
I managed to find a space about half-way along the Square, the finest mid-Victorian terrace in the city of Belfast.
A number of surgeons and physicians had their consulting-rooms here about fifty years ago.
University Square now belongs to Queen's University, and the Queen's Film Theatre (QFT) is located at number 20.
As it transpires, it was quite prudent to purchase a ticket for The Lighthouse online, because a notice-board stated that they were sold out.
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| Holohan's Pantry, February, 2020 |
Having parked, I walked towards University Road, crossed to the other side, and made a bee-line for Holohan's Pantry restaurant at number 43.
I'm wondering if Holohan's is developing this entire terrace, which dates from ca 1870.
It was known as Prospect Terrace.
This was my first visit to Holohan's, so I was looking forward to it.
I wasn't disappointed.
This is a small restaurant, quite narrow in width, though it stretches back a fair distance.
I was early, so it was still quiet when I arrived.
Calvin Holohan greeted me himself and showed me to a little table tucked away nicely at the back.
It formed part of the banquette seating which surrounds two of the walls.
My first impression of it all is good: comfortable seating, abundant cushions, some wooden panelling, distinctive paintings and so on.
The menu is clear, straightforward and concise, too.
It's not too large, to its credit, and has a balanced menu comprising the best of local produce.
I imagine that, if there is a signature dish, it has to be the Boxty, a traditional potato pancake.
Before I ordered Calvin told me a bit about his career and times in Dublin and County Mayo; and his schooldays at Kylemore Abbey.
The first course arrived, I suppose, within five to ten minutes.
This was the Portavogie prawns with coleslaw and and alioli.
The little prawns were lightly battered in, perhaps a sort of tempura manner, sitting on top of the salad.
Everything was light and delicious.
The alioli was lightly flavoured with garlic.
Not long afterwards the main course arrived: the Holohan's Pan Boxty, which was filled with large chunks of succulent smoked haddock and salmon in a rich sauce.
It came with seasonal vegetables, one of which looked like curly parsley.
Was it kale?
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| Seafood Boxty |
Nevertheless, it was all delicious and I cleaned my plate, as it were.
The Boxty, by the way, is reminiscent of a crêpe, except that it's made of potato.
If you like potato bread or farls, you'll enjoy it.
Unfortunately I hadn't enough room for a full pudding, so decided to settle up and leave.
I'll certainly be back to Holohan's, as I told Calvin, a great and worthy host, and the charming staff.
*****
The Lighthouse began at ten past eight, so, having had a coffee, I found a seat and made myself comfortable.
The Lighthouse is not a conventional film.
For a start, it's made in black-and-white, and in the old 'box' style as opposed to wide-screen.
The first impression was that it could have been made in another era, though of course the sound and picture quality, and special effects were state-of-the-art.
This movie has been described as a psychological horror film.
It's brutal, and the characters (a cast of two) are coarse and vulgar, particularly the head keeper, the self-righteous Thomas Wake, who farts, bombasts, and bullies his subordinate (Ephraim Winslow).
These were powerful performances by Robert Pattinson (Ephraim) and Willem Dafoe (Thomas).
The theme is essentially about the relationship between the two, and the circumstances which led to their madness and destruction.
Much has already been written about the film, so I shan't elaborate any further.
I enjoyed it, though wouldn't advise Auntie Nellie to go, as it were.
It's definitely not for those of a sensitive or nervous disposition.