Tardy to the party, good riddance to bad rubbish, guitar tuition, etc.

Good morning, lovely reader (I use the singular because I feel it's unlikely that anyone would read this tripe with a friend or loved one), I'm back with another slice of bloggy goodness. I'm typing this from the office, which I've been at since just before 7 this morning, and am squinting at the screen through eyes so red and bloodshot that I look like I've been on a two week binge with Amy Winehouse. Nevertheless, to paraphrase the Thing from the Fantastic 4, "it's bloggering time"...

Glee. A programme that I should, my all means, hate. But I don't. It's really good. The characters are lovely and well thought out, the plots (while ridiculous) are entertaining, and they produce some not half bad covers of great songs. I wish I'd realised this sooner. At the end of this week's episode I was genuinely thinking "hmm, yes, I could get into this Glee lark", and then the E4 announcer guy goes "and that's it for the current series of Glee". Talk about being tardy to the party... Now I am fated to scour the internet in search of every Glee episode, and to stay up until four in the morning so that I've watched every episode before series 2 comes along...

I've also had a rethink of some of the people who really got on my nerves, for one reason or another, and have decided "you know what? Fuck 'em". So that's that. I've already got one arse, I don't need any more, especially when they aren't nearly as perky as mine, and don't look quite so good in tight jeans. Facebook is partly to blame, allowing people to say things that they wouldn't dare to say in real life, with little to no repurcussions because it's hard (if not impossible) to punch someone in the throat via the internet. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I'm throwing you away like yesterday's jam...

Tonight I shall be teaching a guitar lesson to my mum's possibly perhaps maybe boyfriend, and I'm quite looking forward to it. I've got my acoustic guitar sitting under my desk, ready to teach him all kinds of chords, and notes, and other musician-y sounding things, although I'm slightly erked that he wants to learn Oasis songs rather than the Smiths-y stuff I had prepared. Oh well, I'm sure everything will be fine, so long as he doesn't do anything wrong and plays everything perfectly first time, without questioning that I'm fucking awesome and always right...

Here's today's vegan recipe: Ratatouille. It's simple, classic, healthy, and 100% animal free!

Ingredients
2 sticks of celery, roughly chopped
3 courgettes, cut into 2cm rounds
2 aubergines, cut into 2cm pieces
2 yellow and orange peppers, cut into thick strips
6 tomatoes, roughly chopped
20g pack fresh basil, torn
3 tbsp olive oil
2 onions, sliced
2 large cloves garlic, chopped

Method
1. Heat olive oil in a large pan. Add the onion and cook, stirring, for 4–5 minutes, until soft.
2. Add the garlic, celery, courgettes, aubergine and peppers. Cover and cook gently for 35 minutes, until the vegetables are softened.
3. Add the tomatoes and season. Cook, uncovered, for 20 minutes, until all the vegetables are tender. Stir in the basil just before serving.

Dates, music, miles of style, and more

That's right folks, I've gone from barely blogging at all to blogging twice in two days. I've just got lots of things going on that I'd like to put down on (the hypothetical, internet equivalent of) paper. Luckily, most of the things going on in my life right now are incredibly happy things, so this is unlikely to turn into some sobtacular crankfest of a blog.

I'm determined to treat the Lady in as lovely a way as is humanly possible. So I've decided that, no matter how busy I am, I will make time every week in which to take her out to dinner, to see a film, or to a gallery, in addition to the time we see each other anyway. Dates are, in my humble opinion, a seriously important part of any relationship. Too many people meet, kiss and immediately decide "right we're a couple" without having taken the time to learn anything about the other person. And subsequently their relationship ends acrimoniously, because it never really began. Likewise, plenty of couples (once they have become couples) fall into a slump of "just not giving a shit any more" which leads to them never doing anything except them staying in at every opportunity. Dates are wonderful: they make both partners feel loved, secure, and wanted; they're fun, interesting, and never quite the same; and I bloody love them.

I've been listening to lots and lots of music recently, some old, some new. From the new lot, my emergent favourites are the Drums, Smith Westerns, and Avi Buffalo.

The Drums are the most instantly likeable of the lot, mixing catchy pop melodies, surftacular guitar lines, and introverted, often melancholy lyrics in a way we've not heard in quite some time. They'll be huge this summer, and if they play their cards right they'll be able to stay huge after their distinctly summery music stops being relevant. Smith Westerns are an entirely different kettle of fish. They've the lo-fi, muffled vocal sounds of the Velvet Underground, which they blend with a guitar sound that's clearly been influenced by Mick Ronson circa 1973. "Be My Girl", the standout cut on their first record, is everything that glam did right, but brought forward and madeover into a slightly grungier version of itself. Avi Buffalo are probably my favourite of the lot, though. Their eponymous debut is frankly outstanding, echoing Pavement, MGMT's album tracks back when they didn't suck, and the Shins, all while retaining a sound that's still entirely their own. My favourites from the album thus far are "Truth Sets In", a happy, sunshiney piece of indie brilliance, complete with ghostly guitar harmonics, acoustic strummy bits, and honey dripping group vocals, and "Remember Last Time", which shares the group vocal thing, but injects a heavy dose of sixties psychedelia. Perfect.

I'd like to take a moment of your time to talk about clothes, if I may. With the summer quickly approaching like a sweaty bullet, I've begun thinking about what I'm going to drape myself in this festival season. First off, I've decided to make an effort to wear shorts as much as I possibly can, and not to spend Reading with my legs wrapped in a pair black skinnies. Additionally, I'm not going to wear cardigans just for the sake of it. Should I need a cardigan, I will wear one, but this summer I shall not simply throw on a cardigan to cover my untanned arms. They're never going to get tanned that way, mister... I'm going to wear more shirts than I did last year, be they striped, checked, or otherwise. And last but not least I shall wear my sunglasses at every opportunity. I paid good money for them, it's stupid not to wear them, and then sit there squinting.

Finally, here's my vegan recipe for today: Mushroom Stroganoff. Mmm-mmm, tasty times o'clock, to quote the Lady.

Ingredients

1 tbsp rapeseed oil

1 onion, finely sliced

2 cloves garlic, crushed

250g mushrooms (eg a mix of oyster, shiitake, portabellini), wiped clean and sliced if large

175ml Waitrose Vintage English Cider

2 tsp cornflour

1 tbsp Geo Watkins Mushroom Ketchup

150ml Alpro Organic Soya Yogurt

½ x 20g pack fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Method

1. Heat the oil in a deep frying pan and sauté the onion for 8-10 minutes until starting to soften.
2. Add the garlic and mushrooms, season and continue to sauté for 4-5 minutes, until the mushrooms have softened.
3. Add the cider and bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes to reduce slightly.
4. Blend the cornflour with the mushroom ketchup until smooth. Remove the mushrooms from the heat then add the ketchup and yogurt, and stir to combine. Warm over a low heat until slightly thickened and piping hot.

Wellies, food, guitars, and other things

Although no one reads this lame duck of a blog, partly due to my absence from the blogosphere (a word which I hate using), and partly due to the fact that I've told very few people about it, I feel as though I ought to write something. Not because I'm an interesting, witty, or charming individual, but rather because I quite like to jot down all the stuff that has happened to me in recent times.

First and foremost, I have returned to a job I promised never to return to, and am back slicing open packages and running up and down flights of stairs at All Saints Retail Ltd, a company whose business philosophy seems to be "treat most people like dirt, except for a few people who we'll inexplicably treat like deities, despite no obvious worthwhile input on their part". For the past two weeks, I've rolled in at 7 and punched out at 6 more often than not, without so much as a "thank you" from the powers that be, and with many of the high ups not even realising that I'd gone. However, I have genuinely missed a handful of people, notably a few from Womenswear Design, one or two in Menswear Design, some of the E-Commerce lot, the Press department, literally one person in Production, and another in Merchandising. And I've missed the pay, with which I'll be able to treat the Lady as she deserves to be treated.

However, whilst I might not particularly enjoy some aspects of my job, others are quite wonderful. For example, wearer trials. I am currently in possession of the greatest pair of wellington boots ever to grace this Earth. Like the illegitimate spawn of army boots and wellies, they are quite frankly awesome. With these boots, festival season shall be mindblowingly amazing.

Speaking of festival season, the Hop Farm Festival is right around the proverbial corner, and I'm getting hyper excited. At the forefront of the joygasm is the prospect of seeing Bob Dylan, a man who I've long admired, and whose lyrical genius is an inspiration to me daily. But another large part of why I'm so excited is that last year I met Fight Like Apes. And drank a cider with them. Yeah. You may not know who they are, but they may just be my most beloved band of the decade, whose nonsensical noise has fuelled many a train journey, workout, and late night for me, and who may be the nicest, politest people I've ever met.

Segueing nicely, albeit due to a fairly tenuous music-themed connection, I've started playing the guitar again. I'd almost completely given up until about two weeks ago, but now I've started tearing up the fretboards as if I'd not missed a day, and have written a couple of new pieces, one of which I'm genuinely proud of. I've been listening to a lot of the Smiths recently, and I have to admit that my playing has been greatly influenced by Johnny Marr's distinct and jangly sound, which I'm trying (in vain) to replicate on my Flying V. I'm going to be teaching a friend of my mum's (who may or may not be her new fella, I'm not quite sure) to play, for a small fee of course, and I'm really getting excited about music again for the first time in ages.

I've also resolved to start cooking more, and to try and cook new things. I really enjoy cooking (at least when I'm cooking for the Lady), and it bugs me that I rarely make the effort to try to make something new and challenging. However, I do cook a mean Thai curry, so here's the recipe for it:

Ingredients

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 onion, sliced

½ small butternut squash, about 225g, peeled, deseeded and cut into 4cm cubes

200g pack baby corn and mangetout

1-2 tbsp Bart Red Thai Curry Paste

400ml can coconut milk

½ medium cauliflower, about 225g, cut into florets

1 red pepper, thinly sliced

2 tsp cornflour

Juice of ½ lime

Method

1. Heat the oil in a large, non-stick pan or wok and add the onion, squash and baby corn. Fry over a high heat for 2-3 minutes. Stir in the red Thai curry paste and coconut milk, cover and simmer over a low heat for about 10 minutes.
2. Add the cauliflower to the pan and return to the boil. Cover and continue to cook for a further 10 minutes, until all the vegetables are just tender.
3. Slice the mangetout in half lengthways and add to the pan with the red pepper. Mix the cornflour with 1-2 tablespoons cold water and the lime juice, stir into the pan and return to the boil for 2-3 minutes. Serve in bowls, with Thai fragrant rice or rice noodles.