I Say, Q, You Musician You!

 I Refer, Of Course, To The Meddling Superbeing
 - From the terribly politically-correct Next Generation.  Conrad, having a strong streak of the anarchist in him, was always a little gleeful at how Q came amongst the orderly Federation bores and drove them frantic with his hilarious japes and pranks.  Okay, once or twice he nearly blew up the Universe but Hey!  A man's got to have a hobby, right?

I believe this is Mariachi music

     Knowing how self-obsessed he was, this is very definitely a case of a man blowing his own trumpet.  Don't knock him, I believe Will Riker had his trombone ever ready to hand, in case the Borg hated jazz or the Cardassians were allergic to a high C.

Arkwright's Mill
No, Mister Arkwright didn't build ships.  He was responsible for kick-starting the Industrial Revolution in Manchester with his Shudehill cotton Mill, using water as motive power, a spinning frame and raw cotton.  It was finally knocked to bits in 1940 courtesy of the Luftwaffe, who were known to dislike Cottonopolis and all it's works.
     "So what?" I hear you say.  And also "He's finally lost it, if he ever had it in the first place,"  Yes THANK YOU my hearing is quite acute, ta very much.
     It's an issue because the mill site is only about a hundred yards from The Electric Goldfish Bowl, and I got a couple of pictures of the archaeological work in progress:

What's being examined

The "Overburden" they've removed

     Feast your eyes, as the site is directly over three areas of the prospective NOMA redevelopment, and the project is likely to bury the mill's remnants under a kilotonne of concrete.

The Great British Bake Off
Now in it's sixth year, this programme has been an incredible success story for the BBC, watched in over 200 countries, copied by another 20 and with viewing figures that put it amongst the top three most-watched BBC television shows.  "It's just nice", says the commissioning editor, and do you know she's right.  Quintessentially British, in fact.
     

A page and a half of notes

     I don't know if it's impressive or sad, but there's a page and a half of notes I made during Wednesday's show.  That's dedication for your delectation, gentle readers.
     Enough wibble - on with the motley!
     We begin Week 7 with only six contestants left: Tamal, Mat, Nadiya, Flora, Ian and Paul.  The overall theme was "Victorian".  Who's going home?  Who gets Star Baker?  Let us proceed ...
     Signature: this was to make a Game Pie, using a hot water pastry for the crust.  I've never made this as it looks to be tricky and only achievable well with lots of practice.  The pastry needs to be thin, as you're eating a pie not a biscuit-with-filling, yet also robust.  Too thin and the pie will leak.  Well well, Tamal's was "fantastic" in the words of Paul Hollywood.  Mat's was okay, Ian's pastry too thick, Paul's was dry, Flora's was overfilled and dry, and Nadiya's cleverly designed pie killed the game flavour with too much spice.

Mat's pie, made with an 1850 pie tin

     We then had a little history lesson about Mrs. Beeton, who was unwillingly prodded by her husband into publishing cookery recipes, which she nicked from other people.
     Technical:  this was an 1890 "Tennis Cake", which was a fruit cake with icing on top. 

How it should be done -

 Mary Berry particularly emphasised time-management, which would be crucial as they only had 3 hours - for a fruit cake you need a long, slow bake to ensure it cooks properly on the inside and doesn't burn.  The cake also had to be out of the oven long enough to cool down or the icing would melt, so 3 hours is pushing it.  Notable amongst the failures was Mat's sugar paste, which was, to be blunt, a disaster.

Mat's radioactive dayglo sugarpaste

     In order of worst-to-best: Mat; Ian; Flora; Tamal; Paul; Nadiya.  The lass pulled it back!
    Showstopper: A Charlotte Rousse.  In 5 1/2 hours.  But in that time they have to bake Ladies Fingers, a Bavarois Cream and a Jelly, then combine the lot in a free-standing structure.  Note that Ian (deemed a bit of a show-off in the Mansion, I'm afraid) was using his home-grown lemon verbena, whilst Tamal was madly ambitious.  Both of these were judged very good indeed, with Paul's and Mat's not being terribly good, and the ladies getting by.

How it should be done -

     So - SPOILERS AHEAD!








NO REALLY, SPOILERS!









Okay - Star Baker = Tamal.  He deserved it, the lad did good.
Going Home = Mat.  Poor chap seemed a bit out of his depth.

You What?
Conrad, as you surely know by now, is a skinflint, miserly, penny-pinching rascal whose greatest joy is in finding remaindered food going cheap and eating it several days later.  Thus I was happy to lay my phalanges on this:

     Whilst eating it I detected the presence of long stringy bits of material and so decided to check out the ingredient list, which see -

Brioche, salted beef and -

     Sauerkraut?  Surely this does not belong on a sandwich, sir!  Not that Conrad dislikes sauerkraut.  Indeed, for years his daily lunch was a stinking salad of sauerkraut and sardines, delicious to Conrad yet a little nauseating for the rest of the staff.
     However!  HOWEVER!  It does not belong in a sandwich.
     I have spoken.

And there I am with 3 articles out of 11 I should have posted - Bad Conrad!  Naughty Conrad!  Mary would tell you off for poor time management!