If you do nothing else today, read this post from Rob Campbell on presentaphobia. The most useful advice I’ve read in ages. Just do it.
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It seems that OK feedback for the recipe stuff means we’ll be carrying on. As usual with these things, you learn as you go along. So there’s some additional housekeeping….
Firstly, where possible, ingredients will be fresh, or the next best thing. Packets will be avoided at all costs. Secondly, there will be a washing up rating. You’ll also see that most stuff verges on the healthy side. That’s just the kind of food I eat.
By the way please do read the comments. Recipes have always evolved as people alter them to their personal tastes – and you’ll find some good suggestions, not to mention some additional recipes, like these from Helen and Marcus (no link now he’s vanished) here.
Next up cherry tomato and bacon pasta.
To serve 2 you will need:
Two good handfuls of penne (by the way I use wholeweat, if you follow the recipe, you won’t taste the difference, but it will fill you up for longer and not give you a dreaded insulin surge if you care about such things)
A punnet of cherry tomatoes
A clove of garlic, finely chopped
A teaspoon of fresh basil (or a handful of fresh)
A teaspoon of dried chilli (optional)
Three rashers of smoky bacon ( back bacon/or Canadian depending on where you’re from)
Half a glass of white wine (vegetable stock from a cube is cheaper and works fine – but add a dash white wine vinegar if this is what you use)
Method:
- Turn the oven on to 200 degrees.
- Put lots of cold water in a big pan, and bring to the boil.
- While you wait for the water to heat, put all the cherry tomatoes in a baking tray. Splash with olive oil and put in the oven for 15 minutes – until the skins go a little black and start to crack.
- The pan should be boiling now – chuck the pasta in.
- Put another glug of olive oil in a frying pan and and fry the bacon. When it’s nearly cooked, thrown in the garlic. Whiz it around the pan for no more than twenty seconds, then splash on the wine and bring it to the boil. Then turn the heat off.
- The pasta should be cooked, and so should the tomatoes by now. Turn the oven off, drain the pasta and put it back in the pan with a small nob of butter. Throw in the cooked tomato, and the contents of the frying pan. Throw in the herbs, put on a very hot hob and stir vigorously until everything has come to the boil and the tomato is crushed
- You’re done. That should have been no more than half an hour. Serve in bowls. Works a treat with parmesan if you like it.Turn off the oven.
- You’re left with two pans, one baking tray and eating crockery and utensils to wash up – and there won’t be much scrubbing. Which is pretty much okay.
- This meal is great for microwaving for lunch if you have leftovers.
This is great with frozen spinach too (which has as many nutrients as fresh) – and Morrison’s is very good.Just put a metal sieve above the pan of boiling pasta and steam four frozen chunks. Stir it in with the rest at the end. That’s just one sieve to wash up in addition.
You’ll notice that most of these recipes rely on a few ingredients. Not only does that make it simple, I find that a few simple flavours always work best, if they’re decent quality. Fresh herbs make a difference for example.
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I got an email this morning from someone called Troy Parr. He thinks he knows me since he’s sure he can help me stop being unhappy and fat.
The way to the holy grail of felicitation and lean-ness seems to be anatrim. But since I’m sort of okay on a good day, and I’m still a 32" waist, maybe I’ll pass.
I wish I could reply to Troy and tell him.
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It seems that the reaction to my recipe wheeze has gone to my head. I’m going to try to be useful again. But it won’t be for many.
Let me explain.
While I dearly love the fact I’m part of global subculture thing, like the name says, I am a Northern Planner. I plan Up North. Hopefully, people will have an idea of what it’s like doing what I do, where I do it. There must be a bit of osmosis through visiting here from time to time – and in the vainglorious hope that it may be a little bit diverting, I’ll get around to being a bit more specific about life out here.
For now, I’ll start with the obvious. Planners out here are rare. I’ll meekly venture that planning in these boroughs is different too – more of a mindset than anything else. That’s a whole post,and then some, so I’ll leave it there for now. But however you cut it, getting a planning job outside of London ain’t easy.
Unless you’re very lucky, getting to be a northern planner usually means doing something else in an agency first – usually being a suit – or having been a planner somewhere else. I was very lucky to have a boss who let me learn on the job (do you ever stop?) and send me on loads of APG courses.
Which brings me to basics. Reading John Steel is a great start, but learning mundane, essential things like the difference between groups and quant is virtually impossible without a mentor, or trips to London. You can have the skills, with no where to put it.
It would be easy for a suit up north, who blogs, to think planning is easy – all theory and drinking coffee. So I’m taking it upon myself to share some basic learning from all those courses and learning the hard way Sorry if 99% of you find it like sucking eggs, but if I want more planners to talk to out here ( and I love the ones here already by the way) I’ve got to put my money where my mouth is and help people who may want to be one.
Little of it will be original, it’s gleaned from the wisdom of course leaders, so I’ll name check where I can. Hope that avoids any delusions of grandeur accusations. While I’m no one, these people are not. Folks like George Bryant, Merry Baskin, Janet Grimes and, of course Russell. And I’ll be starting with what the hell planning is actually for.
For now, here’s a link to this blog’s most visited post – working with suits. In case you weren’t around in this time last year.
And hopefully those people who actually know what they’re talking about can add to this stuff with their comments.
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For some reason when you promise to do something on a blog, you tend to do it (or at least I do). So I’m going to promise to give JamesB his Emergence by Steven Johnson book back.
While I’m on the subject, it’s great. I won’t go on too much, since you can just read the synopsis on the link above, but suffice to say here that it’s about how systems can self organise – emerge – from the bottom up. Group intelligence if you like, from the even the dumbest individuals organising in a certain way to become collectively brilliant. Examples include how ant colonies organise themselves, how cities think and how computers can learn.
Of course it’s useful for all sorts of plannery things. But forget all that, it’s simply interesting.
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This post from Rob has got me fired up. Like so many people these days, he’s finding it hard to eat properly thanks to having bugger all time. Now while I happen to think cooking a proper meal is actually fun and a great way to unwind, I perfectly understand people who think it’s a pain. Especially if you’re cooking for one.
But we know enough about the crap that goes into ready meals to know they are less than good for you. Still – I don’t believe cooking something tasty and good for you from scratch (which is also cheaper!) AND having enough time for other stuff has to mutually exclusive. And I’m going to prove it.
So I’m going to post recipes. There are two rules; 1.They have to be no more than half an hour to make, start to finish. 2. They have to be dead easy.
The only reason I’m remotely qualified to do this is that I cook from scratch every day, I work pretty long hours AND fit in tons of exercise. My personal view is that too many cookbooks are full of fancy stuff people will only cook on special occasions. Real people need to know how to make real food.
You won’t find any of these recipes in cookbooks, these are meals that have evolved since I ate baked beans out of a cold tin on the first day of university. I’ve never written them down, which is another reason to do it come to think of it.Hope it’s useful. And if anyone has a go, let me know how it went.
I’ll start with a simple one. Salmon in a bag. Feeds two. You’ll need:
- Two salmon fillets.
- Kitchen foil.
- Handful of Sugarsnap peas (or mange tout, or asparagus)
- Handful of cherry tomatoes.
- Splash of white wine vinegar.
- Dried or fresh (chopped parsley).
Turn your oven to 200 degrees centigrade.
Get a big bit of foil. Enough to cover the base of a baking tray and fold over the top. Put the two pieces of salmon in the middle. Spread the vegetables around them. Splash the vinegar all over the food. Sprinkle a teaspoon of dried parsley over the lot (or a handful of fresh). Fold the foil over to make a sealed bag. Put it in the oven (all this will take no more than five minutes).
25 minutes later. Take the parcel out and serve on plates. That’s it (but turn the oven off).
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A couple of years ago Mum and Dad realised a long held dream and retired to St Ives, Cornwall. While it’s not always easy having them 400 miles way, I couldn’t be happier for them. I do miss them but everyday they wake up in a dream. It’s lovely for them.
Having a free holiday home overlooking the beach isn’t bad for me and Mrs NP either..
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This is Matt Biondi. One the all time swimming legends.
His record speaks for itself – 11 Olympic medals – 8 golds, 2 silver and 1 bronze. The most ever won by an athlete. He was only the second person to win 7 medals at one games too (1988). His seven golds at the 1986 world championships in Madrid was a record as well. He owned his best event, 100 freestyle and at one point he had the ten fastest times ever. He was invincible.
He was the definitive swimmer when I was competing. I’ve admired Ian Thorpe and Michael Phelps since, but Biondi was in my era and he was great.
I really loved his freestyle stroke. He was a powerhouse – absolutely textbook, he didn’t even look like he was trying. There was little foaming water around him, he just glided along with this perfect execution of simplicity. But that’s not as basic as it sounds. To have a stroke like that needs practise of course, but that’s nothing without feel. And he had a feel for the water like a pianist has for the keys. You can teach techinique, but feel is something you either have or you don’t. Other freestylers bludgeon their way forward, he caressed the pool. It was like moonwalking underwater.
He loved competing. When it came to the big events he nearly always delivered. "Enjoy the moment and quit worrying about winning or losing", he said once. He didn’t mean ‘it’s the taking part that counts’ trust me. It was just that he didn’t like beating others as much as beating himself.
He wanted to do his best and never stop moving forward. Of course he was so far out in front he had no one else to COMPETE WITH! But what he was trying to say was that if you concentrate on the moment, how you’re feeling, what YOU’RE going to do, what the other people do is irrelevant.
So while he was one of the great competitors, he was also one of the nicest. I met him once. He was only putting a medal around my neck, but he took the time to have a quick chat with me and the other boys. He was genuinely interested. He talked to us pretty much about the stuff above and I never forgot it.
That’s how I stumble through big moments. I don’t worry about what other people might be doing to beat me, I focus on what I’ve done to get here and what I can do to be better than I was last time. If someone is better in the end, well tough. If I’ve done my best and it’s better than last time, who can ask for more?
They say you should never meet you’re heroes, but Biondi was an exception for me. He showed grace in the pool, and out of it.
Oh, and in his first race his swimsuit came off during his dive. Not everyone starts well…
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I may have mentioned that I’m okay at swimming once or twice. In the pool my body seems to know what it’s doing. On dry land though, I’m like a, well, fish out of water. To put it mildly, I’m clumsy. That’s another foible to add to the chronic absent mindedness that resulted in me locking my keys in my car.
A searing (in more than one way) example was Wednesday night. One minute I was sitting there, nursing a full cup beloved tea. The next, said drink- all of it – was in my lap. Boiling hot. Steaming.
How can someone manage not to lift a cup to his lips and sip it error free? Who the hell knows. I don’t. All I know is that I can swim like a dream, I can hit a tennis serve well and my footwork is pretty good too – but in the everyday need to get about, I’m a physical moron.
This latest episode resulted in yelp of agony as my man bits realised they were being doused on boiling fluid. Those bit are very personal, but I can say they were, ahem, tender.
Mock me at your leisure. I deserve it.
NORTHERN PLANNER 
