Korean Kung Po

In a break from my usual storytelling blogs, I feel I need to share my latest culinary success with the world (OK, maybe not the whole world, maybe just the handful of people who will read this).

A Kung Po is one of my favourite Chinese meals; I have tried to replicate this restaurant-quality dish many times at home without much success… until yesterday! Here is my secret recipe, but before you read it, I make no excuse for not entering actual quantities; if you like something in the list of ingredients, put more of it in, if you don’t, use less. You are unlikely to see measurements and more likely to read words such as ‘dollop’, ‘splodge’, ‘sprinkling’, ‘splash’ and ‘dash’.

Ingredients

  • pork steaks
  • green pepper
  • red pepper
  • yellow pepper
  • red onion
  • red chilli pepper
  • water chestnuts
  • cashew nuts
  • pineapple

For the Sauce

  • Korean Gochujang Sauce/Paste
  • pomegranate molasses
  • scotch bonnet hot pepper sauce
  • dark soy sauce
  • Worcestershire sauce
  • cider vinegar
  • lemon juice
  • tomato purée
  • Chinese five spice
  • sesame seeds

Korean Kung Po Sauce

Method

1.       Cut the pork steaks into half inch cubes. Place in a bowl and mix in the Korean paste, the pomegranate molasses to give sweetness and the hot pepper sauce to give heat. Mix everything together and allow to marinate in the fridge for an hour.

2.       Chop the peppers, onion and pineapple into roughly the same size as the pork cubes. Finally, thinly slice the chilli pepper. Slice the water chestnuts and add all the ingredients into a separate bowl with the cashew nuts.

3.       Add sesame oil to a frying pan or wok, heat it until quite hot and add the pork mixture.

4.       From here onwards, there are no delicate instructions. Slap in all the mixed up chopped vegetables and pineapple and continually give it all a good stir round. Add the soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, a dash of cider vinegar, a squirt of lemon juice, a dollop of tomato purée, and a sprinkling of five spice. Keep stirring until it looks like a proper Kung Po.

5.       Serve in a bowl and sprinkle sesame seeds on top. I chose to accompany mine with hot white pitta bread.

 

I regret not taking a photograph of the final rainbow-coloured result. It tasted as stunning as it looked, even if I say so myself. I almost wanted to cook it again today just to take a photograph, but I resisted the urge.

You need to trust me on this one. In words taken directly from Father Ted, “Go on, go on, go on…”

If I Were in Charge of FIFA – Part 2, Radical Solution

Everything suggested in part 1 surely seems logical to the impartial observer; I have no doubt that each of those topics has already been discussed within FIFA to varying levels. It is now time to suggest something substantially more radical.

The Scoring System

In addition to removing the offside rule, adopting a sin-bin approach and bringing in video technology, I propose that we completely amend the scoring system. Even those games that are considered to be exciting might still only end up with a handful of goals scored. Why don’t we turn everything that happens into a meaningful event on the scoresheet? Further, why don’t we make those scoring situations more likely to occur?

The best way I can see to achieve more excitement is to increase the size of the goalposts. We can keep the current goals as they are but introduce a larger goal around the outside; the result is an “inner goal” and an “outer goal”. Inner goals are the usual 24ft by 8ft high and outer goals could be 60ft by 14ft.

Goalposts - 2

The object of football is to score goals so, while there will be points awarded for different actions that take place in the game, by far the greatest reward is to score a goal. I have devised a point-scoring system which rewards attacking play, also rewards good defensive play but penalises offenders for foul or negative play.

Points Scoring

Here are some notes of the above categories which might not be obvious. A “shot on target” is only awarded if it is saved or blocked, in other words, a goal scored would not additionally count as a shot on target. “Woodwork” effectively means hitting the post and the ball rebounding back into play. A blocked shot is always made by a defender, a save only by the goalkeeper. The “15-second rule” refers to the length of time the ball is in play before it is propelled into the other team’s half of the pitch. “Diving” relates to any kind of activity where a player tries to gain a free kick when they haven’t been sufficiently fouled. “Backchat” refers to any criticism of an official, or a decision they have made, by a player or a manager.

I know what you are thinking. This is ‘pie-in-the-sky’, unprovable logic designed to be controversial. I predicted your thought process and thought I would attempt to demonstrate how it might work. I decided to record the Championship play-off final of 2017 between Huddersfield Town and Reading, the intention being to scrutinise every action that could be considered point-scoring under my new system. I’m under no illusion that this type of experiment is flawed. There were no inner or outer goals on the pitch at the time, and more importantly, the players were not aware of these rules while the match was taking place. Nevertheless, it did allow me to tot up the scores just to give us an idea of how it would pan out.

Over 90 minutes, the match ended in a scoreless draw with – let’s be honest about this – an underwhelming amount of action in either goal area. Although I never considered extra time in my calculations, they couldn’t score a goal in the next 30 minutes either, and a match worth over £180 million to the victors was settled by a missed penalty kick. This is a perfect example of why I’m disillusioned with the sport. Watching a recording of the game while accumulating scores according to a different method actually made things a lot more interesting for me, and I can only assume that the same would apply to spectators because there was something significant happening right throughout the game. Here is a picture of my rough scoring sheet; blue ink denotes the first half, red denotes the second:

Huddersfield v Reading Worksheet

I then built a spreadsheet to calculate the result based on the points per action mentioned earlier. You will see that although Huddersfield Town were promoted on penalties, they lost this match 196 – 190.

Huddersfield v Reading Spreadsheet

Out of every statistic in the above spreadsheet, the thing that astounded me most was the extent of the thing that annoys me the most. Reading passed the ball back to a teammate in his own half from a position in the opposing half a total of 36 times; that is more often than once every two minutes of actual playing time.

So, who wants to appoint me on to the board of directors of FIFA? I feel a petition coming on.

If I Were in Charge of FIFA – Part 1, Realistic Solutions

As a youngster, I used to love football, really love football, in fact, I was probably in love with football. My interest has declined over the last decade to the point where, after virtually every broadcasted match I watch, I end up saying to myself, “Well that’s another 2 hours of my life I’ll never get back”.

There are many reasons for this, the main one being the attitude of the overpaid prima-donnas who happen to be blessed with a modicum of soccer skills and are only in the sport to allow them access to a Z-list celebrity lifestyle. High profile players are judged not so much by what they can do with a ball but by the volume of tabloid column inches commanded by their wives/girlfriends, the “swag in their WAG”.

As a general observation, players these days have no club loyalty, and the ludicrously high transfer fees mean that any person in their right mind would grab the opportunity to part company with their employer. Those transfer fees and wages are in turn funded by ridiculously high admission fees and merchandise costs, so ultimately your ‘average Joe’ is financing this entire culture. While all this irritates me beyond belief, I do not think this is the reason for my level of disinterest; the truth of the matter is that the majority of games involve a feat of endurance just to get through the sheer boredom.

Sleeping-football-fan-640x400

Imagine returning home from an afternoon at the footie and your partner asks you if it was a good game. You reply, “it was one of the best nil-nil draws I’ve seen for a long time”. “We were all over them”. “We had at least four shots on target”. “Two players were booked for pushing each other near the touchline”.  “The ref was blind”. “We should have had a penalty”. “Our manager nearly blew a gasket on the touchline”. By the time you finished, your partner has already stifled a few yawns and is thinking about what’s on TV later.

I don’t like it when people moan about stuff and offer no kind of solution to the problem, so the remainder of this article will focus more specifically on the things that bug me and what can be done to make the situation better. Modern day culture makes it difficult for players in the higher echelons of the game to change their egotistical attitudes, but the rules of the game could be modified for the better to provide more entertainment for the paying customer; so, if I were in charge of FIFA…

Match Time

A professional football match is 90 minutes plus injury time but the average English Premier League game has the ball in play for just 63 minutes. You wouldn’t buy a pint of milk, open it and find a third of a pint is missing so if you pay to watch 90 minutes of football you should get 90 minutes of football. Whenever a free kick is awarded anywhere near the penalty area, it takes around 60 seconds just to discuss tactics, get the wall sorted out and wait for the referee to spray his can of squirty cream. That’s one ninetieth of your admission fee watching everyone fart about, immediately and invariably followed by someone hoofing it over the crossbar and into the crowd. There is a simple solution, STOP THE CLOCK WHEN THE BALL IS NOT IN PLAY! Even if a match is cut down to 80 minutes playing time, you would still get greater value for money… and there would be no need for arguments over the length of injury time.

Shepherding the Ball Out Of Play

You see it happen in every single match; the ball is passed to a team member, and as it trickles towards the touchline a defender is able to get between the ball and the attacker, and shield it with no intention whatsoever of making a play. As a defender, the purpose is to gain your side a throw-in or a goal-kick but what is happening here is a blatant obstruction. Fans want to see players challenging for the ball, not to see players stopping others challenge for the ball. The same applies to that ridiculous charade towards the end of a game when a team in the lead deliberately head toward a corner flag and attempt to protect it with no intention of being positive. Solution? Award a free kick against the offender, simple.

Negative Play

The primary objective of the game of football is to score goals. The goalposts are deliberately placed at the end of the pitch where your team is facing, so why do teams spend so much time passing the ball in the opposite direction? One of the best rule changes introduced in relatively recent times was disallowing the goalkeeper from picking the ball up if it was passed intentionally by a player in his own team. This doesn’t, however, stop most professional teams from retaining possession by tip-tapping the ball back and forth across the line of defenders, which often includes the goalkeeper, for minutes at a time. This is against the spirit of the game. I will never forget my Dad refer to Ray Wilkins as “the master of the square ball” because he only ever passed it sideways; he nearly fell off his chair when Wilkins passed FORWARD to an attacker during an England World Cup match in 1982. Michael Carrick can be tarred with the same brush and virtually every Premier League back four are guilty of this shameless possession-retaining tactic. There are of course many modern day players who at least attempt to move the ball forward at every opportunity, but we do seem to be missing that level of drive and energy provided by the likes of Bryan Robson, Paul Gascoigne, Johan Cruyff, Diego Maradona, George Best and Carlos Tevez.

In basketball when a team starts with possession, they are given 30 seconds to attempt a shot. Why not give a football team say 15 seconds to propel the ball into the opponent’s half and then award a free kick against any team deliberately passing the ball back to a teammate in their own half?

Bookings

I have a real problem with deliberate foul play. The yellow card given to players often does not benefit the team that has suffered unless a persistent offender is sent off when they receive two yellow cards. I know there is a totting up system where a player can be suspended for receiving too many yellow cards, but all that does is penalise that player in a future game where a manager can plan for that player’s absence. The answer to this problem is again very simple, send a player off the pitch to a sin bin for 10 minutes so that the team that has been fouled receives some immediate benefit. They have this system in rugby league, rugby union, ice and field hockey, handball, basketball, etc. A red card offence should still be a complete sending-off for the remainder of the game.

Oh, and if a player wants to take his shirt off and whirl it around like a helicopter blade after scoring a goal then let him (or her!); in what world is that a bookable offence?

The Offside Rule

The great Dutch striker, Marco van Basten, suggested we should remove the offside rule completely from the game of football. He was somewhat lambasted on social media for such a radical change to this ‘beautiful game’. If you think about it, you will come to the conclusion he is absolutely correct. The offside rule causes lots of controversy, and it is tough for the officials to get it right 100% of the time. It is far too often the topic of conversation between TV pundits when reviewing the key events in a match. While scrapping the offside rule altogether would eliminate these minor problems, it would actually resolve one major one. If you were to watch a game from a helicopter above the ground, you would find that, apart from the two goalkeepers, the majority of the action takes place in the middle third of the field; what’s more, all the remaining 20 players are amassed into that small section of the pitch. I attended a match a few years ago where there were so many people packed into the middle that whenever there was a goal kick, it inevitably resulted in a game of head tennis. Forwards cannot go beyond the defender’s backline for fear of being offside, but if there was no offside rule and they can go wherever they like, then the players would spread out across the pitch leaving more space for the talented players to show their skills and the public to be entertained.

Video Technology

Other professional sports incorporate modern technology to get on-field decisions correct. Cricket and tennis have ball-tracking simulations; both forms of rugby and other sports also have video replay technology for the top games. The argument against this is that play is disrupted, and the flow of the match is halted but, in truth, these decisions take no more than 30 or 40 seconds, and the most correct and fair result is applied. Some argue that this builds up the drama for both the TV viewer and, where there are giant screens available, to the supporter in the ground. When you consider how much time is spent arguing over whether or not decisions were correct, what is an extra 40 seconds during the match time? Of course, the game clock is stopped during this scrutiny by a 4th official, so no one is disadvantaged. Penalty incidents, bookings, deflections for corners and close offside decisions could all be impacted. I would recommend that video technology could be called upon at any time by the referee, but also optionally once per half by each team, and the request is not lost if the challenge is subsequently successful. FIFA should adopt video technology now, fact!

Diving

Feigning injury to get another player booked is almost as bad as fouling an opponent. The excruciating agony etched across the faces of players who have received the merest of taps on the ankle or an awkward-looking fall following a collision defies belief. Two minutes later, they can be seen running around like young puppies. Pack it in, it is cheating. A yellow card, a fine and a sin bin will solve this.

Backchat/Respect

Match officials are not corrupt. No one is saying they are perfect and make the correct decision every time, but they do the best job they can for a fraction of the pay awarded to the players. They must still, however, be respected; every decision they make is in good faith and does not warrant backchat, questioning or, in the worst cases, insulting verbal abuse. Players and managers must respect all the match officials.

Long Penalties

Some offences, particularly those in the penalty area, are more serious than others. A blatant foul to prevent a scoring opportunity or maybe a deliberate handball on the goal-line are typical examples of the standard penalty situation. Accidental handling of the ball or maybe a bit of mild shirt-tugging could warrant a “long penalty”, this is just like a normal penalty kick except taken from anywhere on the white line defining the penalty area with just the goalkeeper to beat.

 

I firmly believe that all the ideas suggested in this article are realistic and with a few open minds and a willingness to experiment, FIFA could give great consideration to them. Maybe, sat in their ivory towers, the powers that be have already discussed similar rule changes and dismissed them for now?

It’s time for a bit of fun through some more radical thinking. Please continue to the second article in this two-part analysis to see the possible effect of some new rule changes along with a worked example from the recent Huddersfield v Reading 2017 Championship play-off final.

Beard

I won’t bore you with details of what I do for a living; it’s IT development, that’s all you need to know. Deadlines play a major part in my planning, and last Friday was the scheduled delivery day marking the culmination of a six-month project. At the start of the week, there was still much work to do and many hours to spend. I knew I needed to be focused.

As a personal incentive, on the previous Sunday, I made the decision not to shave until the project was delivered. The decision didn’t make much sense to my wife, Angela; if I’m honest, it didn’t really make much logical sense to me either. I don’t particularly like having facial hair; if it’s not good enough for the top of my head, it’s not good enough for my chin! The glorious moment to be attained just after removing the offending growth was to be my motivation. The sooner I finished the project, the sooner that glorious moment would arrive.

I work at home so no one, apart from my family and my mirror, was subjected to this unkempt appearance. As the days progressed through the working week, my look went from lazy to dishevelled to downright scruffy.

Earlier this year, my son, Craig, grew a beard. He visits home every two or three months, but we still catch pictures of him on Facebook. The first time we saw a photo of him with a beard, we could barely recognise him. I genuinely thought he must have lost a bet with one of his mates. We have since become used to his new appearance and begrudgingly admit that it probably suits him. It’s the way that young men in Britain seem to be going these days. My only concern is whether it snags on his snooker cue when taking a shot.

Back to me (well, it is my blog after all). By Thursday, my chin started to look like Tim Metcalfe on Coronation Street; the top of my head does, too, but that’s another story. I only mention this because I noticed that in an episode on Wednesday, Tim set off in his taxi with stubble that looks like mine and arrived at his destination with just a single-day growth. It was either a continuity error, or Tim kept a battery razor in his glove compartment.

My project was delivered early on Friday evening. The photograph below shows my chin just a few hours before the aforementioned ‘glorious moment’ arrived, and I was able to remove it.

Stubble

From the outside, I fully accept this is a raggedy, unattractive, tramp-like appearance and one which my friends and family have rarely seen. I look like a cross between Worzel Gummidge and ZZ Top. From the inside of my face, for a few fleeting moments, I considered it as a classic bit of designer stubble… I am, however, glad it has gone.

Boiler Camouflage

I have always wondered what the point is in having children if you can’t have some fun at their expense. Last week, it was time to extend the theory; what is the point in having parents if you can’t have some fun at their expense?

My dear old Mum had a new boiler fitted on the wall of her kitchen, beside the sink. There is scope here for an “old boiler” joke, but I’ll let it pass because I love her too much. The boiler had some unconcealed pipework beneath it; Mum thought it was a bit of an eyesore. She asked me if I could look on “that Internet thing” to see if I could find anywhere that sold some kind of prebuilt casing that could be used to hide such a visual monstrosity. It had to be something removable so that she could clean behind it and, more importantly, access the tap should the water pressure need to be increased.

She gave me the measurements, and I did some web searching. I found a couple of companies, but any prebuilt casings were the wrong sizes so our only option would have been to have an expensive bespoke job carried out, perhaps by a joiner.

It was time for a bit of fun. I found an old empty TV box at home and cut it to the exact measurements. I deliberately picked out the most garish colours to be positioned on the visible side; they look great on a TV delivery box but would not look so great when situated underneath a white boiler.

Technika Image

The corners were fixed with a tacky piece of Sellotape, and I took the hideous contraption to her house. Acting in a way that could only be likened to the great Sir John Gielgud, I told Mum I had solved her problem and positioned my invention underneath her boiler. It fitted perfectly but looked like a carbuncle on the backside of humanity. For 5 minutes, I pretended to be very proud of my handiwork, knowing that she wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings by offering her opinions on this piece of garbage.

The intention was to come clean and throw it straight in the bin. When it came to that point, Mum said that it was OK and to leave it there for now. At this point, I thought I was the one being wound up which brings me back to my very first point, what is the point in having children if you can’t wind them up? I guess I’m still their child, after all.

When I revisited my parents a few days later, I was stunned to see what my artistic 79-year-old mother had done. She had taken my TV box, turned it inside out and covered the exterior in white sticky-back plastic which she had hoarded away back in the 1970s next to the Fairy Liquid bottles to keep up with the latest Blue Peter trends. [Seriously, who keeps sticky-back plastic?]. She then found some white plastic edging – probably left over from a 1980s MFI flat-pack cabinet – and connected that to the top and bottom of the box. Finally, she found some Velcro stickers which she used to connect it to the posts on the wall underneath the boiler so that it would stay in place and yet be removable. Here is a photo; amazing eh?

Mum's Boiler

For once, I’m happy that my joke backfired. Maybe there is a business opportunity here? It’s possible that she took her inspiration from the days when she attended the same art school at the same time as David Hockney. As a postscript, and partially unrelated to this blog, here is a picture of her latest painting which I call “Wet Westminster”. I’m very proud of her.

Mum's Painting, Wet Westminster

 

Mr Brown

When our three children were young, we took a family holiday in Puerto Pollensa on the island of Majorca. The apartment block/hotel had its own swimming pool and bar, serving drinks and light snacks. We spent most days relaxing by the pool, and the kids loved it. It was, however, the height of summer and many other families had the same idea, so the pool area was always well-populated.

Habitat Apartment Poolside

Our apartment was a mere 30-seconds’ walk from the pool. Angela and I were relaxing on sun loungers one afternoon when our young daughter, Loren, shouted within earshot of the entire area that she needed a poo. A few people laughed as she ran back to us with one hand on her bottom. Obviously, that situation resolved itself without any particular drama, albeit a little embarrassing.

I dreamed up an idea that evening which we all thought was funny and would definitely work. If a similar situation should arise during the rest of the holiday, the kids should use a code by saying something like “Can I go and make a call to Mr Brown to see if he’s OK?” It became a bit of a joke for the next few days.

The penultimate afternoon of the holiday arrived and, as usual, Angela and I were relaxing with books on our loungers while the kids were in the pool having fun. There were lots of people in close vicinity; everyone was happy and occupied with whatever they were doing. I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to take a peaceful 10-minute break to – how can I put this? – make myself feel a little more comfortable. From the swimming pool, Loren saw me stand up and head towards the apartment. She shouted at the top of her voice “ARE YOU GOING TO DO A MR. BROWN?”

All the Brits in the surrounding area, including the loudmouth families who had adorned their apartments with St George flags, were laughing. How was I supposed to react to that? All I could do was accept defeat, so I rolled up my Sun newspaper and placed it under my left armpit in true British, ‘tourist-abroad’ style, and then shouted back “Yes, Loren, I am!” before purposefully marching back to the apartment.

Mr Brown

The Adventures of the Boy with the Bear with the Blanket

For this week’s blog, I thought I would break with tradition and venture into the world of children’s stories. Inspired by my Grandson, Harry, here is a short story aimed at 3 to 6 year olds.

Pizza Time

Henry is a very cute little blond boy.

Henry

Henry’s best friend is a little bear called “Bear, Bear”, a bear so good they named him twice.

Bear Bear

Bear Bear’s best friend is a cheeky little blanket.

Blanket

Henry, Bear Bear and Blanket went to New York, New York, a city so good they named it twice.

New York New York

New York New York is a very big place, and after walking all day, Henry felt hungry. Looking for somewhere to eat, they found a pizza restaurant called “Pizza Pizza”, a restaurant so good they named it twice.

Pizza pizza Restaurant

A rather charming waiter sat the three friends at a nice table and asked Henry what he would like to eat. Henry asked for a pizza.

Pizza

“What would you like on top of your pizza?” the waiter asked. Bear Bear replied “Another pizza!!”

Pizza pizza

“And what topping would you like on that pizza?” Blanket said, “Another pizza!!!” So they were served their triple-decker pizza.

Pizza pizza Pizza

A man at another table to the right was about to order his food, looked across and said: “Yum, I’ll have what they’re having”. A lady on the table to the left was also about to order, she said: “Yum, I’ll have what they’re having”. Soon EVERYONE in the restaurant was eating triple-decker pizzas.

Henry went to pay for their meal, and the manager came over and said they did not have to pay. In fact, the pizza was so good that they would add it to their menu, but it needed a name.

Italian Waiter

Bear Bear said, “Call it the ‘Pizza Pizza Pizza’”… so they did, a pizza that was so good they named it THREE TIMES.

Pizza pizza Pizza