Threads: 08/02/2010

My pictures today are oddly lit. I could’ve taken advantage of the fading daylight but that would’ve involved being out of doors, not something I relished doing at all today. Instead I stayed indoors once I finally got home and took some oddly lit photos in multiple locations that are, well, odd.

Back in black today with a splash of col0ur and metal for kicks. The dress is from Penneys, it creases purely by existing but I find it rather comfortable and versatile. It can be a little short when I sit down as the hem is all over the place (something I noticed when preparing myself for a driving lesson that, thankfully, did not happen) but that’s something thick, high denier tights, solve.

Isn’t it funny how the high street is ALL OVER Chanel-inspired clothing and accessories for some time now and it’s not going anywhere. Looking at what I’m wearing my belt looks like the 2.11 chain and my shoes are quilted two-tone flats. The belt was ridiculously cheap and the shoes are more high street than the high street itself, the look is unintentional but makes me me feel very fashion-victimy. I can’t say that it has put me off Chanel but my grá for the 2.11 has waned in the face of a world of imitations.

monday personal style black dress

Shoes: New Look, Tights: ASOS or Topshop, Dress: Penneys, Belt: Dunnes, Cardigan: Vero Moda, Belt: worn as necklace: Claires, Glasses: Prada Other shoes on floor: Hush Puppies (my new very sensible footwear)

as depressing as dancing to ’single ladies’ this Saturday

George Lee quits Fine Gael and will “probably” return to RTÉ where he will thrive, prosper and more than likely ruin any up and comer’s chances of actually getting somewhere and achieving anything in the retirement village they call Montrose. BAH.

7 Feb 2010, 11:20pm
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by ciaranorton

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pretty

red skirt

via here

Tea and sympathy

Quick post because I think I am emotionally scarred following a viewing of The Godfather Part II followed by Scarface within 24 hours. But before I let the bloodshed of organised crime into my celluloid life I was a very respectable girl this weekend, the type who goes to afternoon tea in The Shelbourne.

The tea was in honour of meeting up with two of my greatest and bestest friends who I never get to see because we are TERRIBLE at organising anything that suits everybody. So to celebrate meeting finalmente we went to the Shelbourne and pretended that we are the type of ladies who eat sandwiches without crusts. When we got a little too boisterous for the Lord Mayor’s Lounge (me: “Tara, is there a real-live human playing that piano?”) we adjourned to the bar and missed greeting the returning Irish Rugby team by seconds. Not that we let that dampen any spirits. I couldn’t be without my friends; if only every Saturday was like this.

afternoon tea with champagne

There were salmon and brown bread delights but we ate them before the camera had time to catch up…..

afternoon tea

afternoon tea at the Shelbourne

afternoon tea cocktails

While a story I had already heard was explained (LOTS of catching up…) I took pictures of the delicious Strawberrytinis (I know…) we ended the afternoon with.

the horseshoe bar at the shelbourne dublin

7 Feb 2010, 10:42pm
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by ciaranorton

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I don’t think

I’ll ever stop loving, or listening incessantly to, this song.

Nothing like them

Frightened Rabbit, ‘Nothing Like You’

LOVE.

Grace and Love and the good things

The Sartorialist wrote this lovely post a few days ago; I found it really inspiring. (Inspiration from the most unlikely of places: 30 Rock!) He writes about how the small things a man or a woman does for their partner are what count, and what is noticed, more than the bigger, grander gestures in life. Though not in a relationship I have worried, and will continue to worry, about how I am percieved by the other person. It eats away at you and in the end you forget to notice and appreciate the small things that keep a relationship alive and well and full of love. Quite what are the big things I can’t define but the smaller things are simple and full of grace and ever so easy to do.

I know I won’t be able to stop myself posting more about St Valentine’s Day (or the movie of the same name which looks just like He’s Just Not That Into You, doesn’t it? What’s with Hollywood these days? Do they think we don’t NOTICE these things? Jamie Foxx, you disappoint me.) as it approaches as I’m am the corniest creature going and though I do detest the day, I appreciate the sentiment.

If you’re a competitive sort as well as a romantic you might want to head to Dundrum this weekend and check out the Body Shop’s photo booth, all in aid of celebrating their new fragrance ‘Love etc’ . By having your photo taken for that special someone (or something, people do love plants) you can win dinner in Roly’s, free Body Shop products and special discounts. The photos will be posted to the Body Shop’s Facebook and Flickr on the day. So if you’re in the area do go and if you win some delicious smelling products remember who sent you…..

Pork ‘n’ vowels

Pork chops just sound good, don’t they? I think it’s the ‘o’ sound: a broad and reassuring vowel.Studying English made me particularly attuned to vowel sounds, I find myself analysing why I love one lyric of a song more than another based purely on vowel sounds. Worrying. Plus, ‘chop’ is one of those words that make food sound better, like ’slab’. Who wouldn’t want a slab of something?

This week my mother came home from work with a new cookery book to add to the ever-expanding collection, Caribbean Food Made Easy by Levi Roots of ‘Reggae Reggae’ sauce fame.

It’s a really pretty book, with some delightfully simple and delicious looking recipes. I personally can’t wait to hit the dessert section: Coconut Crème Brûleé anyone? Last night I cooked Jamaican Pork Chops with a side of Shoestring Sweet Potato Fries. They were so good, a really summer-inspired dish that is perfect to serve as a touch of spring (and falling meteorites) fills the air. Also, I got to say to people that it was “pork chops for dinner”, thus making me feel like a 50s housewife…

Apologies for lack of ‘after’ pictures. Hunger got the better of us all.

Jamaican Pork Chops*

Ingredients: serves 4

  • 2 tbsp oil (he recommends sunflower or goundnut, I used rapeseed)
  • salt and pepper
  • 4 medium-large pork chops
  • 1 red onion, chopped
  • 1 red pepper, deseeded and cut into 2cm cubes
  • 1 yellow pepper, deseeded and cut into 2cm cubes
  • 2 sticks celery, cut into 1 cm chunks
  • 2cm piece of root ginger, finely chopped
  • 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
  • 4 tbsp brown sugar (I used light brown)
  • 3 tsp dry mustard ( I used dijon)
  • juice of one lime
  • 1/2 tbsp of hot sauce (I used a Piri Piri marinade)
  • 3 tbsp tomato purée
  • 400g tin tomatoes
  • 150ml hot water or chicken stock

jamaican pork recipe

Method:

  1. Preheat your oven to 180°C
  2. wash and pat the meat dry. It also helps to bring the meat to room temperature before beginning to cook it. Heat the oil in a frying pan, season the pork chops and place on the pan to brown on both sides. Then place in an ovenproof dish, big enough for them to lie in a single layer.
  3. Using the leftover oil and fat in the pan fry your onions, peppers and celery until they are soft. Add the ginger and garlic and cook for another minute then stir in the sugar, hot sauce, mustard and lime. Cook for another minute then add the tomatoes and purée. Season, add the stock and stir.
  4. Pour the sauce over the chops and place in the preheated oven for 1 to 1 1/2 hours or until the pork is tender and the sauce has reduced. Serve with rice or, as I did, with shoestring sweet potato fries.

sweet potato fries

Shoestring Sweet Potato Fries

Ingredients:

  • 2 medium-large size sweet potatoes (I used 2 and had more than enough fries for 4)
  • Sunflower oil for frying (as much as it will take to fill a large pan about halfway with the oil)
  • Chilli flakes and sea salt (Levi puts a whole Scotch Bonnet chilli and 2 garlic cloves whole into the oil with the potatoes..I was without so opted for dried chilli flakes over the hot fries)

Method:

  1. Cut the sweet potatoes into very skinny strips, as thin as you can really.
  2. Half fill your pan with oil and heat until it reaches 190°C on a kitchen thermometer or, as I did, until a slice of potato fizzles  and floats when dropped into it.
  3. Deep fry until tender and dark gold – about 10 minutes – then remove with a slotted spoon, drain on kitchen paper, season with flaked salt and dried chilli and try not to eat them all before the chops are ready.
  4. Serve the chops and fries with a fresh green salad.

*As a Rasta, Levi Roots doesn’t eat pork, something I was surprised to read as my knowledge of Rastafarian culture barely exists. I like that he still includes pork in his book though, it can be tiring to feel like you have to live a person’s life to cook their food. The Jamies and Nigellas of this world are far too fond of telling me how organic and responsible my food should be, not how good it should taste.

my love affair with italics

Or, rather, another person’s love affair with italics and how I wish I could emulate him.

J.D Salinger, that is. Like just about everyone who cares I took to my bookshelf this week and pulled out Franny and Zooey, my all-time favourite Salinger book (not the hardest choice considering the lean pickings) and one of my ports-in-a-storm books that I know is always there when I need it most.

Re-reading it this week I realised what it is about Salinger that I love and admire most: his use of italics. God, but it’s a beautiful thing his ability to use italics in dialogue. What I wouldn’t do for his gift of creating a tone, a sense of place and purpose in his characters solely by italicising. Enough to make grown men and women weep.

Case in point:

Franny:

“I’m just sick of ego, ego, ego. My own and everybody else’s. I’m sick of everybody that wants to get somewhere, do something distinguished and all, be somebody interesting. It’s disgusting – it is, it is. I don’t care what anybody says.”

Miss Glass:

“He’s never faced anything as long as I’ve known him. He thinks anything peculiar or unpleasant will just go away if he turns on the radio and some little schnook starts singing.

Italics within a word? I die.

 
  
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