Life’s Not The Same Anymore

What ever happened to those halcyon days when all we had to eat was loo roll and pasta?

I miss the shopping roulette, the, “Let’s eat what’s in the fridge. Oh! look there isn’t anything.” And then heading off to the shop, only to find that it’s fridge is in a more perilous state than ours.

I miss eating only what we can find, forage or steal.

I miss the covert phone calls from friends, pushing their contraband commestables; nothing ever committed to writing or text, naturally.

I miss making our brave friends eat my dodgy cooking, or as we like to call it, having an S&M evening. Those days have gone, but never fear, they will return and those of you who know us will get to eat a la chez Wally again. And the thought of that makes me smile.

Lady Biker

There are two types of men in the world. Oh yes, only two.

There are the ones who bang on about the fact that I ride a bike. If I am introduced to a third party by one of these chaps, my bike riding often precedes any other information about me. If I ride with anyone from this group, all I hear is how they can tell I am a woman when I ride. I wonder what they are trying to tell me? Answers on a postcard please.

The other sort of bloke, makes no comment about me being a rider; after-all, why not?

Luckily I enjoy company and these two groups of men are always good company.

Many moons ago, when I was still a teenager, I met Wally and he was instantly attractive to me, on account of his brand new Suzuki TS 125 bike in a glorious shade of 1970’s orange. Wow, I thought, I’m in LOVE; and the guy’s not bad either. Within a few short weeks I had his motorbike and him all to myself. On the down-side, I did not have a clue how to make the bike go. I was not a driver, but I had driven a tractor and was sure it must have furnished me with some transferable skills. Sadly no. Thank goodness Wally is a very patient person. In no time at all I was as good as I was ever going to be; and that is not particularly good; and I was totally hooked.

My total lack of ability got me into a few scrapes as I wizzed around the busy streets of Bristol. I managed a spectacular off as I skimmed through a tight bend, changing gear part way around. I was flung off at great speed, right in front of a bus queue. Worse, a bus queue I passed every day. I made eye contact with some of them as I slid past, belly down wondering where my bike had gone. I was so embarrassed and very glad of my state of the art, super modern, full face helmet, which gave me my much needed anonymity.

One morning at about 6.30, a couple of police officers stopped me for speeding through the city. Well I was the only person on the road at that time of day. Where was the danger? The first thing I was asked was, “Is this your bike?” “Yes.” I replied as I sat astride my machine in my big biker boots, the first of my many manly, greasy Belstaff jackets and my ‘integral helmet’. “You’re a woman???!!!” One of the officers simpered. Every morning for the next few days, they stopped me; only for a chat. I was flattered and promptly changed my route. After-all, up until they showed up, I had the roads to myself and could go screaming about the streets unimpeded. Oh how nice it was to get back to clearing out the pipes. I also enjoyed riding my bike.

Another time, while I was a student, the chain fell off my Yamaha RD 200 and the unexpected change in speed chucked me off. I knew the student bus was on my tail, so I grabbed my bike, stood it up, and found a gate to lean on, making sure I was staring enigmatically into the distance. Oh the shame. Some time later the same bike ‘lost’ it’s clutch cable, so I rode it around the city using racing gear changes. It is still a sound that has a certain thrill attached to it.

You can probably tell that I did develop some skills over the first year or so of riding, but not that many. What did develop was a love of riding that has stayed with me since those early days.

When I was zipping about in Bristol, I was one of only two women who rode there at the time. The other woman kept a Norton Commando and and she never waved in the usual biker style, not even when we fuelled up at the same time, in the same garage, she never acknowledged me. It was in the days of Brit bikers being angry with people who were buying Japanese bikes. She was a tough nut. Now the roads team with lady bikers and I love it. I am no longer alone. I am no longer unusual. So there is really no need to make a fuss.

Motorcycle backpacking, simple pleasures without fuss.

Maybe I can persuade Wally to tell his biker stories soon. In the meantime, please let us know what you thought of this post by clicking ‘like’, and also, why not add a comment in the ‘reply’ section below.

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Pandemic Panties

Alioli

A simple, traditional Spanish dipping sauce that packs a massive punch.

Ingredients

5T Olive oil
1t Vinegar
.25t Course salt
2 average garlic cloves

Add olive oil and vinegar and this is all you need in order to make Alioli. Easy.

Method

Usually this food is made with a pestle and mortar. I do not know about you, but I do not take one camping! Today, at home, I tried a campers version, using what most of us might have in a tent or camper van. It takes quite a time and is fairly hard work too, but it is well worth the effort.

Grate the garlic, with their skins on, ideally using a fine grater. Alternatively smash the cloves with a rock, or a knife and put your mashings into your little bowl.

Grate garlic into your little bowl
Add salt
Mash the grated garlic into the finest possible paste by using the back of your spoon pressed and rubbed against the side of your bowl
Add the vinegar to your bowl and carry on mashing your garlic, salt and vinegar together

Mashing garlic, salt and vinegar together

Now begin to add your oil a little at a time, mashing the garlic mix until it firms up and becomes creamy looking. I use half a teaspoonful of oil at a time, or less, and press the spoon very firmly and rapidly around and around the side of the bowl.

Only add more oil when your mix looks like this.

Repeat, dripping in the oil and madly mashing until you have a reasonable amount of paste.

I find this method does not give a very stiff dipping paste. It is more of a dipping sauce. A pestle and mortar gives fantastic results; did I mention that?

Here is some I made earlier by using our pestle and mortar.

The resulting sauce is delicious and is great when used for:-

Dipping bread into
Drizzling onto sushi before rolling them and dipping the sushi into at the table as you eat them.
Adding to curry just before serving
Dipping onion bhajis into
Adding to a marinade, say; lime, ginger and coconut.
Drizzle over pizza just before, or after cooking