Last week I received an e-mail from a nice researcher working for The Listening Post, a tv show broadcasted on Al-Jazeera english. She had read my blog entry about Sarkozy and the media and wanted to know if I was interested in talking for a few minutes about his influence on the French media. I said I was of course interested in principle, but when she phoned back the next day and had me spend 10 minutes blabbering away about my hate for the president, I thought she’d never call back. Too often, I am an embarrassment to no one but myself (see also: Bicycle Mark’s podcast).
But I was asked back today and said I would spare the team the commuting pain and pay them a visit in person. As it happens, the show shares a building with CBC Canada (droll), and I was welcome by a lovely and very interesting intern and a very funny cameraman/producer, who was in panic because he forgot his pregnant’s wife wedding anniversary. We chatted for a few minutes and they told me to speak for a couple of minutes, in front of the camera, about my opinions. And how do I put this? I am horrible at being interviewed for podcasts, and even worse on camera. I was thinking about the poor editor who would have to work on the footage, deleting my ‘errrs’ and my awkward pauses, and I ) blushed 2) wanted to stab myself in the eye. I profusely apologized but they both said it was absolutely fine and what they were looking for.
As I left, she said she’ll let me know when the footage is online. I thought, fuck me, I hope I’m so bad it never airs.
Lesson learned: stick to blogging.
During an afternoon stroll in Soho yesterday, Mark and I stopped in front of markets stalls selling boxes of strawberries for just one pound (it was five o’clock, and I love market bargains). Upon buying a box and tasting a couple of strawbs, I immediately did a u-turn to buy three more. That’s how good they were, and we spent a few minutes cursing the very existence of Tesco under our breath. Long live street markets.
Today I set myself up to make some jam, my new favourite past time since I made raspberry-rhubarb spread in France last week. And by god, it is the simplest of all things to cook, and the best tasting one. Not that I am blowing my own horn or anything but damn, even Mark says it’s the best jam he ever had (not the France one mind, but the another one I made last week, since the fuckers at the airport took my container).
The whole process takes less than an hour, is very relaxing to boot, and your entire house will have the most wickedly gorgeous smell. I doubt I even have to write the recipe down, but given that many great sites give very different advice, I’ll give you my grandmother’s.
Ingredients (makes a medium jar):
- 400 grams of strawberries
- 250 grams of sugar
- Juice of 1 lemon
- 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla essence; or half a vanilla pod
And now let’s get cooking:
- Wash fruits, remove the stems and cut them in two. If you are using vanilla pods, add the seeds now. Mash the fruits with a potatoes masher or better yet, with your hands. Add the sugar and let it sit for 10 minutes.
- Put the mixture in a saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. After 8 minutes, add the lemon juice (it makes to jam into a gooey consistency, and you won’t need pectin). Keep on stirring occasionally for another 15 minutes, and gradually remove the foam. The jam is ready when the jam is still liquid, but is setting quickly after one minute in the fridge (test it with a tiny bit of jam).
- Pour in clean jar when still hot, close very tight and turn it upside down. Alternatively, you can also EAT IT ALL IN ONE SETTING.
Take my word for it, it brings a whole different meaning to the French adage “like children around a pot of jam”.
Friends - I am notoriously bad at keeping in touch via Facebook because the site never really did it for me, but I (surprisingly) like Twitter more and more. You can find me here. Wanna join?
