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Tag Archives: Andrew Fairlie

Come Dine With Me

30 Friday Nov 2012

Posted by Candia in Celebrities, Humour, Suttonford, television

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Tags

Andrew Fairlie, Appellation Controlee, Come Dine with Me, Dexters, Gleneagles, Jamie Oliver, La Boheme, Lidl, Mr Bean, Nigella, Rachel Khoo, spatchcock, Swarovski

Another blast from past Suttonford Chronicles since I hadn’t many readers in 2012 when I first started writing as Candia…

Tristram spotted the advert in a shop window in Suttonford’s High Street.  It invited amateur chefs to apply to take part in the Channel 4 programme Come Dine With Me.

Tristram adored cooking, which was just as well, as his wife rarely participated in the activity.  However, he did not dare to contemplate reproducing any of his signature curries as, Clammie, his spouse, had been furious that the proprietor of Benares Balti had gazumped them in the bidding for their forever home.  A mere whiff of garam masala would send her into a vindaloo of a spleen-venting frenzy and so he would have to rely on his milder fusion cuisine.

He was apprehensive, but secretly delighted when his application was successful.  It wasn’t so much the winning of £1,000 that was important; it was national affirmation of his skills.  And it gave him the opportunity to re-visit his beloved Rachel Khoo programmes. (Why wouldn’t Clammie wear scarlet lipstick and fifties skirts?)

Image for The Little Paris Kitchen: Cooking with Rachel Khoo

But who were the other contestants?

He discovered the answer soon enough, and, as usual, there was a potentially explosive mix:  Nigel Milford-Haven, an effete form teacher from St Birinus’ Middle School, who was an acolyte of Andrew Fairlie of Gleneagles fame; Gisela Boothroyd-Smythe, a parent of the legendary Suttonford delinquents, Juniper and John, and Melinda D’Oyly-Carter, an aromatherapist and masseuse who was committed to all things pink and fluffy.  She was very tactile, but tactless and preferred to be addressed as Mimi.

Tristram was of the Jamie Oliver Whack It In! school; Nigel, surprisingly, given his vocation, was not.  He favoured sourcing everything locally and his partner had a field of Dexters and a dubious connection to a pig farmer, who smoked his bacon regularly.  Gisela loved bondage cookery.

What is that? I hear you ask, Dear Reader.

It meant that since she could neither control her husband, nor her offspring, she trussed fowl, spatch-cocked chicken and game and tied up joints ruthlessly. All her wine choices were Appellation Controlee.

Melinda, or Mimi, on the other hand, used vats of lubricious olive oil- extra vergine– ; oysters in season and thick-lipped moules in summer.  She over-used Coquilles St Jacques and sighed pneumatically, a la Nigella, as she lingeringly licked the backs of spoons.

Clammie wasn’t keen on having these strange self-publicists in Nutwood Cottage, but Tristram re-assured her that they would be confined to the kitchen and dining room.  With the cameras, it was a bit of a crush, however.  Mimi didn’t mind getting up close and personal with the cameraman, though, and wobbled nearly as much as the champagne jellies she had served to the others the previous evening.  She had deliberately placed her rhinestone-encrusted spectacles in his camera bag as an excuse to keep in contact.

Gisela was angry because her son had told his form teacher, the very one who was appearing on the programme, that his mother had cheated by tarting up a dessert from Lidl.

Nigel went on to stuff a goose with a Cox’s Pippin in the manner of Mr Bean’s preparation of his Christmas turkey.  He took exception to Mimi leaning over him, looking straight into the camera lens and pronouncing:  Ooh, Mr Milford-Haven: is that a tanker in your estuary or are you just pleased to see me? He insisted that this should be cut as viewing was before the watershed and half of his form would be watching.  He was right.  They were.  However, they were hoping that he would well and truly have his goose cooked.  So much for house loyalty.

When the cameraman came indoors from filming the frosty garden, Mimi took his hand and commented that it was frozen.  Cue for a snatch of La Boheme as background muzak, which was mainly lost on the great viewing public. Those that did recognise it, cringed at the cliché.

Oddly, Mimi won first prize.  As entertainment she had given her guests a pre-prandial massage – all except Gisela, who had been feeling unwell because of the overwhelmingly pink décor of the love-booth of a living room.  (What a contrast to the evening she had hosted, when everyone had been bowled over by gun dogs and had been told where to sit in ramrod chairs whilst being presented with offal, which was promptly fed to the canines under the table, as soon as her back was turned.)

Tristram’s meal was received with polite gratitude, but the others felt that his food technology was a little twee, like the choice of his children’s names.  The pugs snapped at the guests’ ankles at the start of the evening and Gisela was not impressed by their toy-like dimensions.  She liked a real dog that could work.

File:English pointer.jpg

Nigel had worn a co -ordinating waistcoat and tie which matched the hues of his starter.  His food was deemed too fussy and poncey-a word which Tristram had not heard for a very long time.  He tried to encourage the teacher by joking that his main course had been ambi-Dextrous, but that the steak had been a little too pink for his taste.  He scored him an 8, to be kind.

It was a relief when it was all over and Clammie could access her drive again, without having to squeeze past Gisela’s Volvo.  She and Tristram and Gisela sent commiseration cards to Nigel.  After all, he would be writing their children’s end-of term reports in the very near future.

Melinda, aka Mimi, spent her £1,000 on a new pair of Swarovski-encrusted spectacles and a designer clutch purse, as the cameraman never did return the pair she had placed so carefully in his camera bag.

 

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Match Point

17 Monday Sep 2012

Posted by Candia in History, Humour, News, Religion, Romance, Social Comment, Sport, Tennis

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Andrew Fairlie, Andy Murray, Chronicles of Narnia, Church of the Holy Rude, Dunblane, Dunblane Cathedral, Dunblane Hydro, Gleneagles Hotel

St Ninian’s Day.

Andy Murray at the 2008 US Open

Ninian died on 16th September, 432 AD.  He was the Apostle to the Southern Picts.  The cathedral in Perth is named after him, but I do not think Andy had time to leave Dunblane to light a wee tea-light in gratitude.  He had his own St Blane to attend to. Draped in a Saltire, the Muzzard was mobbed by local fans who had waited in the rain for him, perhaps hoping for a couple of years to be knocked off their personal purgatories.  He signed a few indulgences for his primary school followers.

English: Dunblane HydroI wonder if he went up to Dunblane Hydro, so disappointing now that it has had the Hilton chain treatment, with piped-and I don’t mean bagpiped- muzak-in its public lavatories.  The makeover style is nineties corporate, so I do not think that they will get the wedding booking.  Serves them right.

I expect that Andy’s moody black and white photograph will join the other portraits of Famous Scots in the bar. The Husband and I relaxed on some very comfy, squidgy sofas in the said area and waited, almost as long as it took Andy to win his first Grand Slam, for a coffee and hot chocolate.  The latter (no, I meant latter, not latte) arrived with marshmallows-a kind gesture-, but, believe you me, if you want mallows, haste ye back to The Gleneagles Hotel and Andrew Fairlie will convert you for life.  Anything else is a Marshwiggle (see Chronicles of Narnia).

Dunblane Cathedral would be the perfect second best option to The Church of the Holy Rude, Stirling (as mentioned in previous postings), for Andy’s Coronation. Sorry, I meant marriage.  Friends of Dunblane Cathedral could add a new misericord to the fantastic set that they already have there.  Since there is a quirkily carved bat on one, why not have a modern racquet on a commemorative seat, specially carved for Andy to sit on whenever he visits to take up his Freedom of the City?  If Kim needs to sit beside him, they could always get a local craftsman to carve a cute little Border terrier for her particular throne.  Maybe they would need three extra seats, if mummy always comes along, so she could have a raven or a dagger on hers.

But what if Kim wants to wed down south, in Wimbledon, or Surrey?  What if she judges Andy to be a bit of a skinnymalinkylonglegs for a kilt? Pity, as a sporran would be just the job for him to keep a couple of tennis balls to the ready, for throwing to his retinue after the service.  Kim might have to realise that she is marrying a legend (You’re epic, Andy, the banners read.)  Like Ruth in the Old Testament, his people might have to become her people.  Certainly his god has already had to become hers.

So, she’d better have a sprig of white heather in her bouquet and sport a Murray tartan garter.  Maybe she will be drummed through Dunblane and chained to the railings with a chamber pot placed in front of her, to pick up a nuptial collection, in the auld tradition.  Or she may simply lodge her wedding list at Jenner’s, Edinburgh:

2 gold feeding bowls with Olympic rings (engraved) – presumably for the dogs

Saltire champion-sized duvet set

Gold frame for Lendl photo

American fridge filled with Irn-Bru

Deep fat fryer for Mars Bars

Judy annexe

Kim annexe

New DVD player..

I wonder if Andrew Fairlie will be asked to do the catering?

Fairlie: and how do you like your deep fried Mars Bar?

Andy: Saignant, I think..  No, a point.

Fairlie: For you, Andy, it will be match point.  Eh, and how do you like your Border terrier?

Andy: Medium rare, I think.

Deep-fried Mars bars

© Candia Dixon Stuart and Candiacomesclean.wordpress.com, 2012

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I Am What I Ate

15 Saturday Sep 2012

Posted by Candia in Humour, News, Social Comment, Sport, television

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Andrew Fairlie, Commonwealth Games, Cullen Skink, Glasgow, Gleneagles Hotel, Irn Bru, Jammie Dodgers, Loch Fyne, Rab C Nesbitt, Scotland

The Commonwealth Games are coming to Glasgow in 2014 and more than 2 million meals will have to be prepared for athletes, officials, staff and spectators.  However, Ah hae ma doots that the 100 plus tonnes of fruit and veg that are being ordered will necessarily go doon a treat.

Save the Children co-ordinator, Malcolm Clark, has been reported as saying that there should be a junk food ban.  Many will respond:  Ach, away an’ bile yer heid.

Rural Affairs Secretary, Richard Lochhead said: 

There will be unprecedented opportunities to showcase the magnificent produce Scotland has to offer.

English: Chef Andrew Fairlie and his brigade a...

There will be a Food and Drink AGM in Perth, so close to Andrew Fairlie’s eponymous restaurant at The Gleneagles Hotel. However, I don’t think his signature lobster dish- its shell smoked in whisky, as if you didn’t know, will be featured in the biodegradable cardboard takeaway dishes of the Games themselves.  Nor do I see Celtic Fish and Game and all things feathered and sustainable being up there in the hot desires of Rab C Nesbitt and Co.

Candia was once a student at a Scottish University, in the gloaming of time and so she can recall seeing some graffiti sprayed on the exterior of the students’ refectory and it read:

You Are What You Eat

And that is a very frightening concept.

Just over a week ago now, I was contemplating a journey north and felt compelled to express in verse my anticipation of the culinary delights of Alba.

A pack of Jammie DodgersI Am What I Ate

I’m returning to the land of shortbread-

(Petticoat Tails, the Peek Frean Custard Cream)-

where, for many years I had ingested

more Jammie Dodgers than in sweet-toothed dream;

Lorne sausage, Stovies, Co-op jam

stirred into semolina, mutton pies,

mince n’ tatties, neeps, pan peeces, flaccid Spam,

school custard, tablet- then, to appetise,

Black Bun.  If I felt a wee bit faddy;

Barr’s Irn Bru, a Paterson oatcake

with a Loch Fyne kipper; a Finnan haddie

gar’d me grue. Bottles of ginger would slake

my thirst and, if I was in a paddy,

you could shut me up wi’ a soor green ploom.

On Fridays we had something Ruskolined,

Cock-a-Leekie, Clootie Dumpling, sheep’s womb,

Tunnock’s wafers, Lees’ Snowballs, but now weaned

off those pokes of chips, black pudding slices,

I spread my Low Fat Flora very thin.

Childhood diet no longer entices,

yet I am what I ate- there’s nae denying

the place the skillet had in all our hearts.

Arteries were clogged through constant frying

by strangers to the culinary arts.

But Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled don’t shrink

fae food wae names like bannock, Cullen Skink.

Clootie dumpling

© Candia Dixon Stuart and Candiacomesclean.wordpress.com, 2012

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My name is Candia. Its initial consonant alliterates with “cow” and there are connotations with the adjective “candid.” I started writing this blog in the summer of 2012 and focused on satire at the start.

Interspersed was ironic news comment, reviews and poetry.

Over the years I have won some international poetry competitions and have published in reputable small presses, as well as reviewing and reading alongside well- established poets. I wrote under my own name then, but Candia has taken me over as an online persona. Having brought out a serious anthology last year called 'Its Own Place' which features poetry of an epiphanal nature, I was able to take part in an Arts and Spirituality series of lectures in Winchester in 2016.

Lately I have been experimenting with boussekusekeika, sestinas, rhyme royale, villanelles and other forms. I am exploring Japanese themes at the moment, my interest having been re-ignited by the recent re-evaluations of Hokusai.

Thank you to all my committed followers whose loyalty has encouraged me to keep writing. It has been exciting to meet some of you in the flesh- in venues as far flung as Melbourne and Sydney!

Copyright Notice

© Candia Dixon Stuart and Candiacomesclean.wordpress.com, 2012-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Candia Dixon Stuart and candiacomesclean.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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