All posts by Monnow Man

Wales meets Spain in a wok

Today, I thought I would share with you what I conjured up for dinner this evening. It will probably score points with the low carbs diet brigade as it is substantial and tasty but has no starchy ingredients like potato or pasta. The quantities of ingredients and cooking times are approximate – you’ll just have to adjust to suit your taste or what’s in season. This particular dish came about because I found some very cheap organic leeks and turkey on sale at the cheaper of the two Monmouth supermarkets:


2 Turkey Breasts – you could also use a similar quantity of chicken I suppose – cut into chunky strips
3 or 4 organic leeks – yes, yes, you can use non-organic, but go with the pretentious flow here – cut into half inch segments at a 45 degrees slant. (Leeks are the national vegetable of Wales.)
6 unusually large (I mean an inch across at the bulb) spring onions cut to 3 inches long and halved lengthways
4 or 5 tablespoons of flour
A liberal sprinkling of dried Herbes de Provence
6 er.. inches of chorizo sausage cut on the diagonal into slices
Dry (at least Amontillado) Sherry
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Salt and a pepper mill to hand.


1. Use the Herbes de Provence, salt and pepper to season the flour. Coat the turkey strips in it. Mix the remaining flour with a splash of sherry and a little water to thicken the sauce later.
2. Heat about an inch of the olice oil in a wok and when very hot, fry the turkey in batches until they just begin to brown. Put the turkey aside.
3. With some fresh oil, but only a little this time, caramelise the spring onion halves in batches on both sides and put aside
4. Stir fry the leeks and chorizo. Once softened, lower the heat and add a generous splash of sherry.
5. Throw in the turkey and spring onion halves. Stir gently and cover to allow to braise for about three minutes.
6. Stir in the flour and sherry mixture and allow to thicken for a minute or two. Grind on some black pepper and salt if necessary.
7. Serve with a glass of Spanish red wine to hand.

Note: Be careful about the timing – the vegetables should be softly sweet and al dente, not slimy (overcooked) or crunchy (undercooked).

Instead of sherry, and interesting variation might be to use a dry white vermouth. I can report that this works very well with leeks, so it’s a safe bet that it would be a success.

Heimat: Happiness is a TV series from your adolescence

I have been excitedly anticipating a DVD release for a year or two now and last week it finally happened. The Extended Edition of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King? The Director’s Cut of Donnie Darko? No. It’s actually a very long German television series from the 1980’s called Heimat.

Heimat was part of the furniture of my adolescent mind for several weeks and was a drama that followed the lives of a family in a small, rural town in Germany between the first and second World Wars. Pretty dry stuff, you might think. Well, it does take some effort to get into, but you soon become so attached to the characters that when the series ends you feel you have lost old friends. A beautifully crafted work of art, it looked good, with occasional use of black and white, as well as being well acted and scripted. Heimat gave us a thoughtful and moving insight into a rarely exposed culture and historical period. Its German perspective was a refreshing antidote to the usual British and American TV diet.

I actually signed up to a mailing list which attempted, a couple of years ago, to persuade Edgar Reitz, its director, to get it released on DVD. I monitored progress on the campaign and eventually it was announced that a DVD would be produced.

I remember my French teacher at Hampton School, a Sudetenland Jew who still bore a German concentration camp tattoo on his arm, telling me that he felt it to be the best thing he had ever seen on television in any genre; and he was not a man given to hyperbole. Did Heimat perhaps give me a sentimental disposition towards some aspects of German culture that would nurture a blossoming relationship with a certain German au pair I met in London only a few years later?

Anyway, after that sort of wait, you can imagine, then, that if someone doesn’t buy it for me as a Christmas present there will be petulant tantrums! Heavy hints have been dropped within K.’s earshot.

And yes, it does have subtitles.

Available on
Heimat (Slimline) [2007]
Update: May 2008

Apparently Heimat was highly regarded by Stanley Kubrick.

Curry and an ex-Cabinet Minister

Spent the weekend in London.

We indulged in a curry just off Chiswick High Street. The food was reasonably good. Each dish was actually distinctive in flavour and didn’t appear to have been made by using the “one pot” method of just adding cream/almonds/coconut/sundry spices to a ladleful of curry-ish sauce that forms the basis of all dishes. Maybe, however, that was because we chose the house “specials”, for which the cooks had to make a little more effort.

Our hors d’oeuvres were marred by a slightly posh middle-aged man demanding to know why he was still waiting for his take away when another customer who came into the restaurant after him had already received his order. “I mean”, he ranted, “Did I order something that’s particularly hard to cook?”. The put-upon waiter checked and explained that that particular customer had ordered over the phone quite a while ago. Ranting middle-aged man shut up at that point, but three minutes later rejoindered “Now wait a minute: that’s not true!”. So on it went, spoiling the enjoyment of my lamb tikka and K.’s prawn poori.

I know that there is a good book to be written about the peculiarly British ritual of the visit to the curry house.

Walking back to mum’s place through Chiswick, I was nudged and whispered at conspiratorially by K., who insisted that the small, bearded man carrying a takeway in a paper bag a few yards ahead of us was Robin Cook. I’m still not completely convinced but can’t deny that whoever he was, he did look remarkably similar to Tony Blair’s former Foreign Secretary. This put me in mind of the time I followed Kate Adie, the BBC foreign correspondent as she pushed a trolley around Chiswick’s Sainsbury’s. It’s hard to tell famous people from behind.

I have just remembered that blogs are supposed to have links to cool websites, so here’s a site I visit regularly:

World Wide Words

Gridlock, free dental care and wigs

We made the mistake of attempting to drive to London on a Friday evening.

As we were cruising through the sylvan splendour of the Wye Valley towards the Severn Bridge at Chepstow, heading for the M4 motorway towards London, we heard on the radio that there had been not one, but two crashes on the M4. The first would have caused a half hour delay. The second, involving a coach, had entirely blocked the London-bound side of the motorway at Reading.

As we plotted lengthy detours involving Swindon and Oxford, I took decisive action to preserve our sanity by aborting the trip and turned back to Monmouth. There was no particular reason that we had to be in London tonight, so we avoided the hassle. I bought a bottle of Romanian wine – surprisingly quaffable – and tempers have been soothed.

K and I got cards from the NHS today entitling us to free dental care, prescriptions and wigs because we are claiming Child Tax Credits. On Monday I’m going straight to the doctor to demand Viagra and a brunette mullet toupee, while K is having her teeth fixed up on your taxes.

Ups and Downs

(Preamble to this post: for those of you not aware, I have been job hunting.)

The bad news first:

I didn’t get a job I didn’t really want. Yes, you read that correctly. So maybe that wasn’t bad news after all. I think.

Apparently I was too “senior” for the role. But does that mean to old or too experienced? I’m not sure which is the more flattering.

The better news:

I have officially acquired MCP status. No, not “male chauvinist pig” for all you 1970’s women’s libbers. It stands for Microsoft Certified Professional. Now, to be honest, the actual class of MCP that I got was a distinctly “junior” one: the MCDST, not the coveted (and difficult to acquire) MCSE. The latter will follow in time.

The international news:

Looks like half the population of Ukraine is going to riot after an (allegedly!) fiddled election.

The joke:

Bill Clinton takes his dog to the vet. The vet asks “Would you like him castrated?”, to which the dog replies “Yes, please.”


Thus begins my online journal, or blog, to those of you more au fait with online English. Now, I hate mission statements that don’t actually own up to what an organisation is really for. I mean, it’s just not true that a company simply wants “to be the best supplier of x product/service in y country”. They want to make lots of money for their stakeholders and, in doing so, provide a service.

Anyway, where was I?

Ah yes: mission statements. The aims of this particular blog are, in descending order of priority:

– to keep in touch with friends and family who I don’t see very often because they are far away
– to achieve a higher state of self awareness (not quite Nirvana, though) by keeping a journal
– to take the promise of the “democratisation of publishing” that the Net affords and speak my mind. If one or two people take note or are entertained/informed, that’s good enough to soothe my ego 😉
– to recommend sundry books/films/causes/websites/ideas etc., that I think deserve recommendation
– to practise creative writing.

This may be a moving target and will probably change weekly, so there. That’s enough. I’ll update as and when I can and have something worth writing. I don’t want to bore anyone.

Stay tuned!