caddyman: (Default)
I am in my once-a-year space.

Having acquired the cheese for the GASPs weekend, there is a pleasing aroma around my desk that ensures I am left alone by all but aficionados of the curd.

I bought a little Berkswell at the request of Furtle: that's staying at the Carpathia. The GASPs cheese menu (I do not include the bulk-standard cheddar we also take) for 2008 is:

Colton Bassett Stilton (0.495kg)
Gouda Extra Mature (0.270kg)
Vacherin mont d'or (0.795kg)
Waterloo (0.185kg)

The Waterloo comes in as a last minute experimental replacement for the Cooleeney. It's a similar sort of brie-like soft cheese, but from Somerset rather than County Tipperary (it's a long way to go). Waterloo is made using rich Guernsey milk that originally came from the Duke of Wellington's own herd, hence the name.

As usual, getting this produce home without attracting sideways glances from the curious and unlearned will be a challenge. I am now going to stick my nose in the bag and inhale a lungful of the fine, fine aroma...
caddyman: (Default)
I am in my once-a-year space.

Having acquired the cheese for the GASPs weekend, there is a pleasing aroma around my desk that ensures I am left alone by all but aficionados of the curd.

I bought a little Berkswell at the request of Furtle: that's staying at the Carpathia. The GASPs cheese menu (I do not include the bulk-standard cheddar we also take) for 2008 is:

Colton Bassett Stilton (0.495kg)
Gouda Extra Mature (0.270kg)
Vacherin mont d'or (0.795kg)
Waterloo (0.185kg)

The Waterloo comes in as a last minute experimental replacement for the Cooleeney. It's a similar sort of brie-like soft cheese, but from Somerset rather than County Tipperary (it's a long way to go). Waterloo is made using rich Guernsey milk that originally came from the Duke of Wellington's own herd, hence the name.

As usual, getting this produce home without attracting sideways glances from the curious and unlearned will be a challenge. I am now going to stick my nose in the bag and inhale a lungful of the fine, fine aroma...

Quel Fromage!

Thursday, November 27th, 2008 11:42 am
caddyman: (Default)
Due to the end of something important, or the completion of a landmark piece of policy or something, someone has brought in some Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Well, it would have been rude to go through the morning ignoring someone’s largesse, so I have just scarfed one down. My, my, they do have a different chemical composition to other doughnuts, don’t they?

Tomorrow is the start of GASPs and a four-day weekend for me. At lunchtime I have to nip along to Tachbrook Street in Pimlico and purchase the cheese supplies for the weekend. I haven’t given the chaps much choice in the matter over the past 20 years, largely confining myself to varying the amount of Stilton, depending upon how much I think I can get away with. Over the past few years the selection has been Stilton, Berkswell and Coolheeney, and in the past two, Vacherin.

This year I decided to tout for opinions and it seems that Stilton and Vacherin are definitely still on the menu, plus another soft cheese, so I guess the Coolheeney stays, too. A vote was put in for a nice hard Dutch cheese of some kith, kin or kine, so that might spell the demise of the Berkswell, a nice hard, appley sheeps’ cheese.

I don’t think that we get through enough cheese between us these days to justify a selection of five, but I shall muse upon it.

I shouldn’t have eaten that doughnut; I can see through time and space.

Quel Fromage!

Thursday, November 27th, 2008 11:42 am
caddyman: (Default)
Due to the end of something important, or the completion of a landmark piece of policy or something, someone has brought in some Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Well, it would have been rude to go through the morning ignoring someone’s largesse, so I have just scarfed one down. My, my, they do have a different chemical composition to other doughnuts, don’t they?

Tomorrow is the start of GASPs and a four-day weekend for me. At lunchtime I have to nip along to Tachbrook Street in Pimlico and purchase the cheese supplies for the weekend. I haven’t given the chaps much choice in the matter over the past 20 years, largely confining myself to varying the amount of Stilton, depending upon how much I think I can get away with. Over the past few years the selection has been Stilton, Berkswell and Coolheeney, and in the past two, Vacherin.

This year I decided to tout for opinions and it seems that Stilton and Vacherin are definitely still on the menu, plus another soft cheese, so I guess the Coolheeney stays, too. A vote was put in for a nice hard Dutch cheese of some kith, kin or kine, so that might spell the demise of the Berkswell, a nice hard, appley sheeps’ cheese.

I don’t think that we get through enough cheese between us these days to justify a selection of five, but I shall muse upon it.

I shouldn’t have eaten that doughnut; I can see through time and space.
caddyman: (Default)
I haven't got around to downloading and sorting the pictures from my camera, yet, that I took during my week away. I have, however, just downloaded two from my Razr V3. I continue to be impressed by the quality that you can get from a phone camera these days!


This is sunset over Cardigan Bay on the evening of 3 September. I suspect that a higher resolution camera would have made it look somewhat less like a nuclear bomb going off, but I like it. I think I have some better photos from later nights on my Sony Cybershot. I'll look them out and see.


Here we see my Dear Old Mum holding the grinning cat doorstop I found for Furtle in the mill crafts shop at Dinas Mawddwy, where we stopped off on the way there and back for a cup of tea. You just can't help but grin back.

Everything you (never) wanted to know about Dinas Mawddwy!
caddyman: (Default)
I haven't got around to downloading and sorting the pictures from my camera, yet, that I took during my week away. I have, however, just downloaded two from my Razr V3. I continue to be impressed by the quality that you can get from a phone camera these days!


This is sunset over Cardigan Bay on the evening of 3 September. I suspect that a higher resolution camera would have made it look somewhat less like a nuclear bomb going off, but I like it. I think I have some better photos from later nights on my Sony Cybershot. I'll look them out and see.


Here we see my Dear Old Mum holding the grinning cat doorstop I found for Furtle in the mill crafts shop at Dinas Mawddwy, where we stopped off on the way there and back for a cup of tea. You just can't help but grin back.

Everything you (never) wanted to know about Dinas Mawddwy!
caddyman: (Gromit)
Mission accomplished.

I spent a little more than intended, but I now have pulsating next to my desk, a bag containing blocks of:

Cropwell Bishop Stilton,
Blue Wensleydale,
Berkswell, and a small
L'Edel de Cleron


I shall be leaving the office around four. I need to get this lot home before the Underground fills to excess. I can hear the Wensleydale and the Stilton comparing notes in hushed tones already…

Ooer.
caddyman: (Gromit)
Mission accomplished.

I spent a little more than intended, but I now have pulsating next to my desk, a bag containing blocks of:

Cropwell Bishop Stilton,
Blue Wensleydale,
Berkswell, and a small
L'Edel de Cleron


I shall be leaving the office around four. I need to get this lot home before the Underground fills to excess. I can hear the Wensleydale and the Stilton comparing notes in hushed tones already…

Ooer.

Whey out west

Friday, August 25th, 2006 10:47 am
caddyman: (coat of many colours)
This weekend serves both as the final bank holiday this side of Christmas and [livejournal.com profile] wallabok’s birthday do so it is out to buy significant amounts of the smelliest cheeses I can find at lunchtime ahead of the trip out to South Cambridgeshire tomorrow.

As much as I love my cheese, I am always a just a little wary of buying it in town and lugging it home. Not, I might add, that I have much choice. True, Waitrose have a reasonable cheese and deli counter, but it is limited. Sainsbury’s is about the same. No, if I want proper cheese, it has to be bought from somewhere central and that almost inevitably means the Rippon Cheese Store in Upper Tachbrook Street, Pimlico. I still like Neal’s Yard Dairy, but either of their outlets (Neal’s Yard and Borough Market) is just too far away from the office to make a trip at lunchtime a viable proposition and I don’t want to trail into the West End or out to Borough after work when I would much rather go home. Anyway, good as they are, Neal’s Yard only do cheeses from the British Isles, where as the Rippon Cheese Store casts its net wider.

Anyway, getting the stuff home is always problematic – particularly this time of year. A good cheese is almost invariably a steeenky cheese and a selection costing around twenty quid is not to be sniffed at.1 There is no way of wrapping the stuff that prevents the smell escaping; three layers of grease-proof paper, a card carrier and a plastic bag won’t do it, neither will more plastic wrapping. Shoving all that into a rucksack and zipping it shut doesn’t help much, either – it just takes a little longer for the smell to ooze out. Believe, me I have tried over the years but the smell of cheese will out.

Especially on a tube train where it is altogether too warm. Oh dear.

The only answer is to wave the bag around proudly and prominently, proving that the odd odour is emanating from dairy products, not insufficient hygiene. It can still be a bit of a pain, though.

Ho hum. May as well make the selection really stinky.

1Ha!

Whey out west

Friday, August 25th, 2006 10:47 am
caddyman: (coat of many colours)
This weekend serves both as the final bank holiday this side of Christmas and [livejournal.com profile] wallabok’s birthday do so it is out to buy significant amounts of the smelliest cheeses I can find at lunchtime ahead of the trip out to South Cambridgeshire tomorrow.

As much as I love my cheese, I am always a just a little wary of buying it in town and lugging it home. Not, I might add, that I have much choice. True, Waitrose have a reasonable cheese and deli counter, but it is limited. Sainsbury’s is about the same. No, if I want proper cheese, it has to be bought from somewhere central and that almost inevitably means the Rippon Cheese Store in Upper Tachbrook Street, Pimlico. I still like Neal’s Yard Dairy, but either of their outlets (Neal’s Yard and Borough Market) is just too far away from the office to make a trip at lunchtime a viable proposition and I don’t want to trail into the West End or out to Borough after work when I would much rather go home. Anyway, good as they are, Neal’s Yard only do cheeses from the British Isles, where as the Rippon Cheese Store casts its net wider.

Anyway, getting the stuff home is always problematic – particularly this time of year. A good cheese is almost invariably a steeenky cheese and a selection costing around twenty quid is not to be sniffed at.1 There is no way of wrapping the stuff that prevents the smell escaping; three layers of grease-proof paper, a card carrier and a plastic bag won’t do it, neither will more plastic wrapping. Shoving all that into a rucksack and zipping it shut doesn’t help much, either – it just takes a little longer for the smell to ooze out. Believe, me I have tried over the years but the smell of cheese will out.

Especially on a tube train where it is altogether too warm. Oh dear.

The only answer is to wave the bag around proudly and prominently, proving that the odd odour is emanating from dairy products, not insufficient hygiene. It can still be a bit of a pain, though.

Ho hum. May as well make the selection really stinky.

1Ha!

Wednesday

Wednesday, May 10th, 2006 01:06 pm
caddyman: (Default)
Anyone stupid or bored enough to have been watching the Parliamentary channel this morning would have had a fair chance of seeing Yours Truly sitting behind the Minister desperately aware that although I wanted nothing more than to doze off, I was in a straight line with the Minister and a TV camera. You will have seen, therefore, a middle-aged baldy desperately ruffling papers around behind the despatch box, putting his glasses on and then taking them off again a number of times before staring desperately at random briefing papers in a barely successful attempt not to be ejected from Parliament for snoring during an adjournment debate.

I didn’t want to be there, wasn’t needed and came out far tireder1 than I went in; which considering the amount alcohol that went down last night is no great wonder.

This morning, descending upon the lounge of the Athenaeum Club and hour earlier than normal so I could attend the most pointless debate in history, I came upon a scene of devastation tinged with red. [livejournal.com profile] colonel_maxim, [livejournal.com profile] pax_draconis and to a lesser extent, [livejournal.com profile] ellefurtle had carried on swilling the port for some time after I’d showered and turned in last night. Much of that port was soaking into the table. Too much fortified wine shared among too many clumsy drunks.

Oh dear.

This morning I found myself escorting a still tipsy [livejournal.com profile] pax_draconis down to Euston, miserable and hungover, he. At least he had a fry up to look forward to; the best I managed was a medium latte with an extra shot of espresso in it. Had I not had that, the opening paragraph of this missive may have been written from The Tower, and for once I am not referring to the Athenaeum Club.

Still, I have just received a text from Miss Furtle announcing her intention to get real food in for this evening, so all is not lost.

I hope this afternoon, that we will have a new logo for De-clog (for we are they) so that I can get this damned consultation paper out before disappearing from the office for 6 days (weekend included) for NWO. With a little luck, I might also be able to finish off the last referee sheet, too.

But first, a hunt for cheese, Gromit. Cheese.

1I am aware that there is no such word, but it does so wind up [livejournal.com profile] telemeister

Wednesday

Wednesday, May 10th, 2006 01:06 pm
caddyman: (Default)
Anyone stupid or bored enough to have been watching the Parliamentary channel this morning would have had a fair chance of seeing Yours Truly sitting behind the Minister desperately aware that although I wanted nothing more than to doze off, I was in a straight line with the Minister and a TV camera. You will have seen, therefore, a middle-aged baldy desperately ruffling papers around behind the despatch box, putting his glasses on and then taking them off again a number of times before staring desperately at random briefing papers in a barely successful attempt not to be ejected from Parliament for snoring during an adjournment debate.

I didn’t want to be there, wasn’t needed and came out far tireder1 than I went in; which considering the amount alcohol that went down last night is no great wonder.

This morning, descending upon the lounge of the Athenaeum Club and hour earlier than normal so I could attend the most pointless debate in history, I came upon a scene of devastation tinged with red. [livejournal.com profile] colonel_maxim, [livejournal.com profile] pax_draconis and to a lesser extent, [livejournal.com profile] ellefurtle had carried on swilling the port for some time after I’d showered and turned in last night. Much of that port was soaking into the table. Too much fortified wine shared among too many clumsy drunks.

Oh dear.

This morning I found myself escorting a still tipsy [livejournal.com profile] pax_draconis down to Euston, miserable and hungover, he. At least he had a fry up to look forward to; the best I managed was a medium latte with an extra shot of espresso in it. Had I not had that, the opening paragraph of this missive may have been written from The Tower, and for once I am not referring to the Athenaeum Club.

Still, I have just received a text from Miss Furtle announcing her intention to get real food in for this evening, so all is not lost.

I hope this afternoon, that we will have a new logo for De-clog (for we are they) so that I can get this damned consultation paper out before disappearing from the office for 6 days (weekend included) for NWO. With a little luck, I might also be able to finish off the last referee sheet, too.

But first, a hunt for cheese, Gromit. Cheese.

1I am aware that there is no such word, but it does so wind up [livejournal.com profile] telemeister
caddyman: (Om)
Your hero (by which I mean me; context is everything) has signally failed to learn from experience.

At ten o'clock I suddenly realised that since the adventure at the greasy spoon early this afternoon, I had not actually eaten anything since. I was, accordingly a mite peckish, and it occurred to me that before settling down to watch Invasion I had just enough time to make a nice cheese and onion sarnie and a cup of coffee. When I say onion I mean onion. None of this pickled variety for me, thank you very much (they have their place, but not with cheese, and not between slices of bread). Sadly we do not have any Spanish Onion in the Athenaeum Club at the moment. This is of course, a shocking oversight and the servants will be soundly thrashed in the morning. So I had to make do with a common or garden cooking onion of half the size and a quarter the strength.

Though not the precise shallotage one was looking for, but nonetheless a toothsome addition to a goodly sized sandwich made with the Athenaeum Club's justly famed self-replicating cheddar (PAT Pending).

Most enjoyable it was, too.

Sadly, it still is, some three hours, two brushes of the teeth and a gargle later. This has happened before; I should know better.

The cheese may be self-replicating, but the onion is repeating. But it was a lovely sarnie, it really was.
caddyman: (Om)
Your hero (by which I mean me; context is everything) has signally failed to learn from experience.

At ten o'clock I suddenly realised that since the adventure at the greasy spoon early this afternoon, I had not actually eaten anything since. I was, accordingly a mite peckish, and it occurred to me that before settling down to watch Invasion I had just enough time to make a nice cheese and onion sarnie and a cup of coffee. When I say onion I mean onion. None of this pickled variety for me, thank you very much (they have their place, but not with cheese, and not between slices of bread). Sadly we do not have any Spanish Onion in the Athenaeum Club at the moment. This is of course, a shocking oversight and the servants will be soundly thrashed in the morning. So I had to make do with a common or garden cooking onion of half the size and a quarter the strength.

Though not the precise shallotage one was looking for, but nonetheless a toothsome addition to a goodly sized sandwich made with the Athenaeum Club's justly famed self-replicating cheddar (PAT Pending).

Most enjoyable it was, too.

Sadly, it still is, some three hours, two brushes of the teeth and a gargle later. This has happened before; I should know better.

The cheese may be self-replicating, but the onion is repeating. But it was a lovely sarnie, it really was.

Nirvana

Sunday, March 5th, 2006 03:00 pm
caddyman: (Gromit)
Having been out to the greasy spoon for a late brunch, I am now rather unwillingly sitting down to get some writing done. I really just want to lounge about in proper Olympian fashion, with a bowl of ambosia around the place within easy reach.

Having stopped in at Waitrose on the way back, it occurs to me that we haven't bought any cheese for what seems like ages. We are still eating the stuff, but it never seems to need replacing. I quizzed [livejournal.com profile] colonel_maxim on this point, and he hasn't forked out any hard-earned cash for cheddar for ages, either. This means that we have achieved the curd-guzzler's paradise: self-replicating cheddar.

Now if we can extend this phenomenon to the rest of the grocery list, we will be in heaven. Or business.

Nirvana

Sunday, March 5th, 2006 03:00 pm
caddyman: (Gromit)
Having been out to the greasy spoon for a late brunch, I am now rather unwillingly sitting down to get some writing done. I really just want to lounge about in proper Olympian fashion, with a bowl of ambosia around the place within easy reach.

Having stopped in at Waitrose on the way back, it occurs to me that we haven't bought any cheese for what seems like ages. We are still eating the stuff, but it never seems to need replacing. I quizzed [livejournal.com profile] colonel_maxim on this point, and he hasn't forked out any hard-earned cash for cheddar for ages, either. This means that we have achieved the curd-guzzler's paradise: self-replicating cheddar.

Now if we can extend this phenomenon to the rest of the grocery list, we will be in heaven. Or business.

(no subject)

Thursday, November 24th, 2005 03:37 pm
caddyman: (Default)
I am developing a slight headache; it is very close here in the office. I think a few more rate-payers have been thrown on the furnace to counteract the forecast-but-not-yet-arrived cold weather.

Still, off home soon.

Like a siren the cheese calls me, and its aroma is seeping out of the wrapping.

I shall get a seat on the Tube tonight.

(no subject)

Thursday, November 24th, 2005 03:37 pm
caddyman: (Default)
I am developing a slight headache; it is very close here in the office. I think a few more rate-payers have been thrown on the furnace to counteract the forecast-but-not-yet-arrived cold weather.

Still, off home soon.

Like a siren the cheese calls me, and its aroma is seeping out of the wrapping.

I shall get a seat on the Tube tonight.
caddyman: (Default)
Damn you, Wallace and Gromit, damn you.1

I have just spent £26 on cheese. A nice big chunk of sentient Stilton, a decent size piece of Berkswell and a nicely mature single Cooleeney. But there is no Stinking Bishop, it has suddenly become harder to buy than a pork pie in Mecca. Until three months ago, no-one had ever heard of the bloody stuff; other than me and a bunch of Catholic priests who would buy it as a joke present for the bishop (the cheese emporium lies about a half way between the cathedral and the bishop’s residence), practically no-one knew of its existence. The rather sad looking cheese vendor (a man in a bowler hat and a butcher’s smock) informed me that he had ordered ten and had none delivered.

Such is the power of plasticine film stars.

I have bought instead, a cheese by the name of Vacherin Mont d’Or which I am informed is both runny and smelly2. So runny in fact, that it is served with a spoon.

I am led to understand that some people wrap it in tin foil, douse in wine and bake it for 10 minutes. This apparently makes it into something like a fondue but with none of the usual hassles.

My furry cardio-vascular system and I are intrigued by the prospect.


1But not really, of course.
2I am hopefully confident that it is actually a cheese with that description.
caddyman: (Default)
Damn you, Wallace and Gromit, damn you.1

I have just spent £26 on cheese. A nice big chunk of sentient Stilton, a decent size piece of Berkswell and a nicely mature single Cooleeney. But there is no Stinking Bishop, it has suddenly become harder to buy than a pork pie in Mecca. Until three months ago, no-one had ever heard of the bloody stuff; other than me and a bunch of Catholic priests who would buy it as a joke present for the bishop (the cheese emporium lies about a half way between the cathedral and the bishop’s residence), practically no-one knew of its existence. The rather sad looking cheese vendor (a man in a bowler hat and a butcher’s smock) informed me that he had ordered ten and had none delivered.

Such is the power of plasticine film stars.

I have bought instead, a cheese by the name of Vacherin Mont d’Or which I am informed is both runny and smelly2. So runny in fact, that it is served with a spoon.

I am led to understand that some people wrap it in tin foil, douse in wine and bake it for 10 minutes. This apparently makes it into something like a fondue but with none of the usual hassles.

My furry cardio-vascular system and I are intrigued by the prospect.


1But not really, of course.
2I am hopefully confident that it is actually a cheese with that description.

Profile

caddyman: (Default)
caddyman

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
234567 8
9 101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags