juggling on radio…..

A blindfolded man is given a glass of dark beer to taste. He tastes the beer, licks his lips and nods in approval at which point the blindfold is removed causing the subject of the tasting to smile and say “….but I hate Guinness”; so ran a very popular commercial sometime in the misty past. Such was my experience with Richard Olney’s “Simple French Food” being substituted for the glass of Guinness. The blindfold was omitted for the same reason that juggling acts never succeed on radio. I have owned a copy of this book for a long time and yet, on account of some capricious prejudice, I have easily resisted any temptation to cook any of the recipes therein; until yesterday, that is, which is entirely due to doing something that I very much dislike doing…..looking at newspapers. There was a time in my life when I read newspapers with the same addictive urgency that led me to smoke several packets of cigarettes each day. I needed one or the other, preferably both, in my hands if my hands and mind had nothing specific to do at that moment…sitting on the underground, sitting on the lavatory, sitting on a bar stool, sitting in the studio, sitting in a restaurant…they were constant companions. Neither of them have been part of my life for a long time now but they have been replaced by the equally habit forming internet which is in my hand when I’m sitting on the underground, sitting on the lavatory, sitting on a bar stool, sitting at my computer, or cooking in the kitchen which is when, yesterday, I read Rachel Roddy’s Guardian food page which featured a Richard Olney recipe. A “con” of the printed newspaper was that one could only express one’s disagreement with an editorial opinion by the long, tedious, and thankless task of writing a letter to the editor whereas a “pro” of the current internet newspaper allows us, Trumplike, to make an immediate and, more often than not, ill considered comment directly to the author of the piece which, in my ill considered way, is what I did. I mentioned that “Simple French Food” was as far from simple as I could imagine and that the recipes appeared long, convoluted and unnecessarily demanding and not in the spirit of blah, blah, blah which comment clearly asked for, indeed demanded, a simple, crisp “whatever” in reply but which received a kind and persuasive suggestion that it may be worth trying.When one hears such words from the mouth of La Roddy one knows it fucking well will be worth trying and so I did and here’s the recipe……do it. I should mention that my on line conversation with Rachel brought comments from other  people who had wonderful things to say such as this” “All that said, recipes are like belts: you can tug them snug or wear them loosely, and in time take them off completely, cooking by eye and nose with the chance that your trousers might fall down”