Gussie's Predicament

FROM STIFF UPPER LIP, JEEVES, BY SIR P G WODEHOUSE KBE

BERTIE: "But what's happened?"

I faltered, if faltered's the word.

JEEVES: "I regret to inform you, sir, that Miss Bassett has insisted on Mr Fink-Nottle [Gussie] adopting a vegetarian diet. His mood is understandably disgruntled and rebellious."

I tottered.

In my darkest hour I had never anticipated anything as bad as this.

You wouldn't think it to look at him, because he's small and shrimplike and never puts on weight, but Gussie loves food.

Watching him tucking into his rations at the Drones [Club], a tapeworm would raise its hat respectfully, knowing that it was in the presence of a master.

Cut him off, therefore, from the roasts and boileds and particularly from cold steak and kidney pie, a dish of which he is inordinately fond, and you turned him into something fit for treasons, strategems and spoils, as the fellow said.

First published in June, 2013.

Sir Les!

This morning I fondly remember my old chum and associate Sir Leslie Colin Patterson.

I'd been recommended a dental supplier by the former Australian Cultural Attaché to the Court of St James, Sir Les.

Sir Les and Timothy Belmont go back a long way, in fact.

I am firmly of the belief that Sir Les has been indispensable as Australia's cultural attaché.

Ode to Belmont

The old school pal, NCS, alias the Bard of Schomberg, has composed an ode specially dedicated to self:-

ODE TO BELMONT

I was disheartened this evening to see, 

That to your ‘blog’ was missing,

The latest culinary exploit.  

Oh did one with habitual fever wait.

Even as the sun set its head,

Even at the strikes of the midnight hour, 

Nothing had materialised.

Thence I stumbled upon your ‘twitter.’  

I saw before my eyes the most wonderful vista:

Of decadent banana tart and fillet steak, 

And sadness turned to joy.

Jolly fine stuff here from Schomberg and not one penny exchanged hands, either.

First published in April, 2016.

Thomas Tunnock Ltd

THE FOLLOWING WARRANT IS HEREBY ISSUED:

By Appointment to the Rt Hon the Earl of Belmont, 

Purveyors of Tea Cakes,

Thomas Tunnock Limited, Uddingston, Glasgow.

The Tunnock's Teacake, popular in the British Isles, comprises a small round shortbread biscuit covered with a dome of Italian meringue and a whipped egg white concoction similar to marshmallow.

This is then encased in a thin layer of milk or dark chocolate and wrapped in a red and silver foil paper for the more popular milk chocolate variety; or blue, black, and gold wrapping for the dark.

First issued March, 2010.

N.B. Editors: the alter ego, viz. Belmont, simply cannot have enough of these ethereal biccies (!)

The Ancient DJ

Think I'm alluding to Jimmy Savile? Or the oldest swinger in town?

Try again.

Timothy Belmont alludes to the venerable old dinner jacket, a mere 83 years old.

It's priceless, to me at least. Everything has a price, I suppose.

I wouldn't accept a thousand pounds for my old dinner jacket; nor two thousand pounds.

The eager bidder would be required to pitch considerably higher. It's not for sale anyway.

It was made in August, 1933, consisting of heavy flannel or Barathea wool, with one button fastening at the front; ventless at the back.

It boasts a very wide, ribbed silk lapel and has four, functional buttons on each sleeve; one inside pocket and two outside pockets.

First published in June, 2008.

The Laconic Parrot

Pele

During my vacation on the Canarian island of Fuerteventura I often walked past a block of offices, en route to the beach.

I regularly passed a slatted door in a tiny room which housed an ancient parrot with a minuscule dog.

Occasionally the door was open in order, presumably, to provide them with some daylight.

This parrot looked down on the tiny dog, which looked up mournfully at me every time I peered in.

The parrot had to be encouraged to sing, though I observed that it made two clicking noises prior to any further utterances.

Accordingly, I began by whistling my patriotic rendition of Rule Britannia! to it.

No joy there.

My next effort was a stirring few lines of Eternal Father, Strong To Save.

The old bird was clearly unimpressed with this old, traditional hymn.

Finally, I succumbed to the cheerful ditty, Consider Yourself, from that marvellous musical Oliver!

Christopher Bellew had fun with the learned double yellow-headed amazon, Pele, at the pub where he stayed.

Had I a copy of HMG's EU referendum leaflet at hand I'd have shoved it in the firing line directly below my old parrot.

Alas (!) a copy has not been received even at Belmont GHQ, as yet; though in hindsight, given the wicked sense of humour, I might have taught it to exclaim a rude or vulgar phrase to unsuspecting passers-by.

The Beach Vendor

On one occasion during this holiday I spotted a beach vendor near Torino's Bar at El Cotillo, Fuerteventura.

She was carrying a notice with "Beer", "Cola", €1.50, and so on, written by hand on the card.

On her back she had a cool-bag with the said beverages.

The young woman remained quiet, however.

Now I have observed coves peddling these items on other Canarian beaches, and the trick is to have a act of some kind, with comical rhyming verse.

For instance, "Beer, Coca-Cola, Pineapple, Looky-Looky, Tutti-Fruiti"; whereby the sun-worshippers flock to you, brandishing the old dosh.

Cockney costermongers and barrow-boys were exceedingly artful in this regard and could have taught us a thing or two about marketing and salesmanship.

The desired result should prove to be most efficacious indeed, what?

By the way, the fellow atop with his bike and a load of bangles or necklaces is not self, in case you wondered.

The Royal Train

The Queen's Bedroom

The Royal Train  is used regularly throughout England, Scotland and Wales to carry senior members of our Royal Family.

It has been said that The Queen, the Duke of Edinburgh and the Prince of Wales all have Roberts radios in their saloons, usually tuned to BBC Radio Four, as they like to wake up in the morning to the Today programme.

The Prince of Wales's Study

The joys of awakening from one's slumber by the mellifluous tones of Mr John Humphrys!

Sitting-room

Bedroom

First published in October, 2008.

Lindt Excellence 70%

BY APPOINTMENT TO THE RT HON THE EARL OF BELMONT, LINDT & SPRÜNGLI AG, SUPPLIERS OF CHOCOLATE PRODUCTS

I always used to shun dark chocolate.

Godmother always insisted on Black Magic chocolates, as she made clear on one occasion when I unwittingly brought her a box of milk choccies.

A decade ago, however, I purchased a bar of Lindt Excellence 70% (it was probably on offer), and haven't looked back since.

The flavour of the 70% is wonderful: Not bitter, nor too sweet; rich, almost like currants; with character and depth.

It's not bitter, unlike the 85% version which is a bit too earthy for me. The connoisseurs seem to agree, too. 

First published in March, 2013.

Scotch Fillet

Belmont has done it again. The mighty gnashers have worked wonders. Mind you, the exquisite fillet of beef did not require my robust teeth.

My old, late pal, Bedford, used to send his lovely Duchess out for a Big Mac and a few fries; so, I ask myself, why, on earth, should Belmont not attach the old nose-bag for a dainty beef fillet, with chunky chips, the onion rings, a little coleslaw with celery, broccoli, and tomato?

There's a considerable spoonful of bearnaise sauce, for good measure.

Too late, my friends, for if you darken the threshold of Belmont GHQ instanter, the plate is empty and the noble earl is satisfied, in a gastronomic sense, at least.

Decanal Confusion

A few months ago I received a message, sent to my "official" email address, from a Church of Ireland dean.

The Dean addressed me as Lord Belmont and invited me to lunch with him at the Deanery.

He said he'd written to me.

He even suggested two dates in May; and that, if I preferred, we could lunch at a local restaurant.

I replied immediately, apprising the Dean that I had not received a letter. I wrote my address at the top of the email I sent him.

I accepted his invitation and agreed a date.

About a week later, I received another email from the Dean, advising me that his secretary had been endeavouring to contact me in County Fermanagh.

This puzzled me.

Since the blog was established in 2007, I have made it quite clear that I am not a peer of the realm and that the title is, in fact, fictitious. I've made no secret of that fact and anybody who thinks otherwise risks foolishness!

It dawned on me the the Dean was confusing me with the noble earl who lives at Castle Coole estate, near Enniskillen.

I replied to this effect.

He responded within hours, concurring that he had confused me with the nobleman who lives in County Fermanagh, and politely withdrawing his invitation to me.

My entertainment, not to say amusement, at this gaff cannot be overstated.

The Dean shall remain nameless.

Gorgeous Tits

Great news! I have a pair of lovely little blue tits, actively swooping in and out of the North Nest Box, creating a new nest.

I had a family of blue tits in 2013. I wonder if they are related...

I can see them flying directly in towards the box from the kitchen window, with green moss in their beaks.

*****

MY great pal A from Narrow Water always wonders whether my sauce is red or brown, regarding the evening fodder.

Well, A, I can apprise you that it is brown - no! - red; well, its matured, home-made red onion marmalade, actually.

I had a hefty dollop of it with my venison bangers earlier.

Haddock en Croute

On the menu tonight: Smoked haddock en croute, with a medley of vegetables; annihilated in the customary Belmont fashion.

The trusty gnashers performed akin to the cogs on full power at Patterson's Printing Press; the nose-bag remained steadfast.

Parisian Delectation

The trusty two-wheeler got an airing today. The snail was on the thorn; the lark on the wing.

I cycled into town, my first port of call being Ross's auction-house, where I had a little look here and there.

Thence I darkened the grand porte-cochere of Belfast City Hall where, inside the porch, stands the poignant white marble of Frederick Richard, Earl of Belfast, with his grieving mother, Harriet Anne, Marchioness of Donegall.

This marble was originally in the family's mortuary chapel in the grounds of Belfast Castle.

Thereafter I parked the two-wheeler outside Marks & Spencer at Donegall Place, dismounted, and made for the food-hall in the basement.

Fodder procured today included chicken Kiev, smoked haddock en croute, fruit pastilles, and some fresh fruit.

On the way home, via High Street, I was tempted to alight at Pâtisserie Mimi, where many exquisitely crafted pastries, sweets, breads, and confections tantalised the gastronomic taste-buds.

I had a great chat with the lovely Tracy, who served me the Taïnori Chocolate, Raspberry Financier, Pistacchio Truffle.

If I might draw your attention to the disposable sanitary glove being worn. Local bakeries in the Province might like to pay particular atttention to this, especially when handling cash transactions. 

This is a pâte sucrée base topped with raspberry and 64% taïnori dark chocolate mousse, raspberry financier, pistachio truffles, chocolate glacage and fresh raspberries.

It was placed in a carton and I took it next door, to the National Grand Café, where I scoffed it down with a cup of coffee.

Needless to say, this treat was rich and luxurious, enough to share really.

Now Timothy Belmont is home, the noble posterior recovering from the well-padded saddle.

One Match Belmont

Belmont is battening down all requisite hatches this evening; and, moreover, might even indulge in oriental cuisine.

Belmont GHQ is slightly depleted re the old heating oil. A refill has been ordered forthwith. 

The hearty fire invigorates the soul on a late winter's evening.

One enjoys a welcome early weekend restorative.

Mince & Onion Pie

The Initial Prototype Proprietary Belmont Minced Steak & Onion Pie.

Blast! There was insufficient pastry to cover the top; hence the piecemeal shape thereon.

There was not even a scrap of pastry for the Belmont cypher (!).

The proof, however, will be in the eating.

Old Lady & Air Bag

This is hilarious:-

Bangers & Mash

The trusty gnashers were sufficiently exercised this evening for Dangerfield's delightful venison sausages.

To this, I add onion mash, asparagus, onion marmalade, and abundant butter.

Belmont Burger

The 100% British beef Hawaiian burger, made with pure Ulster beef, for the Earl of Belmont, by his master chef of the gastronomic taste-buds, Anatole, today.

It was devoured with gusto by his lordship, a devotee of fine beef patties.

Whyte & Mackay

Amongst other sundry items, a bottle of Whyte & Mackay scotch whisky was procured at the supermarket for Belmont GHQ this morning.

My old school pal and sparring partner, Dangerfield, holds this blend in high esteem. We're speaking of blended scotch here, not single malts.

I am certainly no connoisseur of scotch whisky, though I enjoyed this stuff, neat or "on the rocks".


A GOOD fillet of smoked haddock was also purchased.

The celebrated Belmont kedgeree, reminiscent of the glorious Raj, will be prepared for fodder this evening.

The ingredients include pilau rice, smoked haddock, an egg, onion, currants, curry paste, butter, and parsley.