Thursday, September 02, 2004
Yay for 10-hour days! I know that doesn't sound like much to some [namely the guy who is currently giving me a running commentary on the Australian election build-up, in-between doing all the stuff the commentary is on], but when they start at 6am, and grow incrementally [just a bit more], I start not caring whether it's a one or zero. The whole work thing is not helped by the big boss (both senses) being a complete hypocrite. And delegating her arse off (hmm, I wonder if she's tried that? Mean I know, but I have low blood sugar).
Anyway, having been very remiss (can one be remiss, or is it only "very remiss of me"?), I've not been paying much attention round here - ok so the tracker telling me that the world did not exist, or if it did, I was not authorised to access it, probably helped. And somewhere along the line both Syria and Saudi Arabia sneaked into the hitlist (list of hits for various countries, not the other type, unless you happen to be Bush's right hand man). Hi or salam al-I'mnotsurewhichvowelscomenext-kum [sorry, if that's completely the wrong language]. And since when has Syria been the Syrian Arab Republic?
[Random thought: How long before some right-wing American is on the search for regimes which produce bioweapons (always sounds like it ought to be a well aimed cabbage), and happens to notice that there's a country called the SAR, and a disease called SARS. A-ha, the pathogen has obviously been sponsored by the SAR, why else would it be called SARS? It's the SAR'S disease. Quick, to war!].
Hmm, remind me again how conspiracy theories start. I read it on the internet, it must be true.
Speaking of the Internet (good segue subject for a blog, huh?), I discovered another egghorn - keyholed for keel-hauled. Unf'ly I can't find it now (yes, "unf'ly" is used in tribute to someone - who read it out as "unf-ly" and then "un-fly". At no point did they seem to twig that it was in any way connected to "unfortunately").
Following the egghorn trail, and I'd just like to plug Pom du Cap - an English guy living somewhere [with authentic vegetation] near Cape Town.
Recent web stats stuff has shown a worrying trend - which I'm trying to ignore, as any comment willl only make it worse. Think imposex, a Some Like It Hot actor's daughter, and vicious rumours. Now add in the magic word pawn. Instant net success.
But on the good side, there is someone out there searching for "Panhagglety" +pictures. Which reminded me that I've never quite explained exactly what it is that panhagglety is. [Ok so the other result spewing vile lies besmirching the name of panhagglety did it].
Panhagglety/panhaggalty/panhaggelty/panhaggerty/panhaggarty/panhaggaty/panhaggatty/pan hagglety/pan haggalty/pan haggelty/pan haggerty/pan haggarty/pan haggaty/pan haggatty/pan ad nauseum. As you can tell, it's a name that's drifted over the years, and isn't normally written down. Even Google isn't sure which version to suggest. So therefore we will use the name my family uses, which is obviously the right one, and is still the accurate Northumberian version (um, well, via, Dorset, Kent, London, Birmingham, somewhere I've never figured out where it is, and assorted ex-colony type places). So panhagglety it is then [that's pronounced pan-haggle-tea].
The recipe:
My method of cooking it is a thorough corruption of my mother's version. Basically, get a large, deep frying-pan, and put some oil in it (I use whatever is available, so either sunflower or olive oil. You're probably supposed to dripping or similar, but pretty much any grease will do [provided it doesn't have bits of engine in it]). Heat on the stove until, er, hot. I tend to use the first signs of smoke as a fairly good indicator.
Now add chopped onion and bacon (one of them is supposed to go in first, but I can never remember which - whatever I do, one of them is never browned enough). Once again, you're supposed to finely chop the onions, but I use my patented not-quite-rings technique. Streaky bacon is preferable to back bacon, but use what is available (I'm not sure if streaky is preferable in terms of the taste and texture, or merely because it costs less, and you can get away with in this). Oh, by the way, scissors are infinitely the best way to go when tackling bacon [assuming you don't already have lardons - in which case, stop always shopping in Waitrose, or stop being French]. BTW, I use unsmoked bacon.
Anyway, cook the onions and bacon until they are softened and beginning to brown. This means quite a low heat for a while (but I get bored, and keep giving it bursts of flame and rapid stirring). If you're using herbs chuck them in here - though this recipe is strongly connected to the mindset where herbs are herbs, usually in a jar saying "Mixed herbs". Basically, herbs are optional (and unnecessary).
Once that's all done, turn the heat down or off, whilst you layer sliced potatoes on top. Keep going till you fill up the pan. Obviously, like the bacon and onions, it helps if you prep them beforehand, but I invariably end up doing it as I cook. I can't remember if waxy or floury potatoes are best (prob waxy?), but any big old potatoes will do [I'm fairly certain no-one has ever attempted it with Jersey Royals]. Spot who tends towards Sainsbury's "white potatoes" [i.e. the cheap ones].
Now add boiling water until the potatoes are covered (if you've forgotten to boil the kettle, cold water works too, but it just takes ages to heat up). Simmer the whole thing until there's not much water left - the potatoes should be cooked by now, but check them (and if not, you're on your own here, as that's never happened to me).
Simmer a bit more until there's really not much liquid left. I never go quite far enough, as I can't stir it, and would have to spend ages scrubbing the de-non-sticked pan if it burns (and also the burnt taste spreads throughout the food).
Serve, and eat with a fork, feeling all warm and snuggled up, safe inside condensation coated windows (extractor fan? Why would anyone need one of those?). A remarkable lack of vitamins, but very, very nice. It's probably the salty, fatty, starchy goodness that makes it taste so. It's a dish for winter evenings, when you've had enough and just want comfort food. It's quite good for getting [vegetarian] flatmates to comment, in an initially disgusted tone "What is that? Smells nice though. Can I...oh, it's got bacon in. Oh well. Would it work without the bacon?". And as for explaining the concept to an American friend, I never figured out what grits are, and she never quite got the concept of panhagglety.
I think my mother's version involves layering everything in raw [bacon and onions, then potatoes on top). Then adding cold water, and covering, and simmering up the potatoes are cooked. The lid then comes off and the water evaporated, hopefully browning the bottom layer along the way. I have no idea how this differences from her parents' versions.
A. I don't have a lid big enough for the frying pan. B. I'm a coward and so wouldn't what for the bottom to brown, and nearly burn. C. Being cowardly means it's doesn't get brown, and partially stewed streaky bacon isn't as nice.
Doing it my way can take anything from just over half an hour (once), up to 3 hours (though I was chatting for most of that, and the gas did shrivel away pathetically as everyone else in the uni tried cooking at the same time. The joy of minute pipes coming from the mains, which then served 16 fully functioning cookers, complete with ovens and grills).
Other versions I've heard of involve various combinations of cheese, mushrooms, carrots, cabbage and tomato ketchup. All of which are horrible travesties of the idea of panhagglety. Yes, I'm a purist, but then it does taste so in it's unadulterated form.
And how come I'm posting about midwinter food when it's hot and sunny outside? Because someone searched for it, and the world doesn't look so hot and sunny when you leave the house at quarter to six in morning. It does however look very pretty in a misty pre-dawn way.
Still no help on finding pictures of panhagglety (wait a couple of months till I start cooking it again, and until I get a digital camera) - but it looks like pretty much one would expect it to. Tends not to linger enough to allow effective photography.
Anyhoo,
Anyway, having been very remiss (can one be remiss, or is it only "very remiss of me"?), I've not been paying much attention round here - ok so the tracker telling me that the world did not exist, or if it did, I was not authorised to access it, probably helped. And somewhere along the line both Syria and Saudi Arabia sneaked into the hitlist (list of hits for various countries, not the other type, unless you happen to be Bush's right hand man). Hi or salam al-I'mnotsurewhichvowelscomenext-kum [sorry, if that's completely the wrong language]. And since when has Syria been the Syrian Arab Republic?
[Random thought: How long before some right-wing American is on the search for regimes which produce bioweapons (always sounds like it ought to be a well aimed cabbage), and happens to notice that there's a country called the SAR, and a disease called SARS. A-ha, the pathogen has obviously been sponsored by the SAR, why else would it be called SARS? It's the SAR'S disease. Quick, to war!].
Hmm, remind me again how conspiracy theories start. I read it on the internet, it must be true.
Speaking of the Internet (good segue subject for a blog, huh?), I discovered another egghorn - keyholed for keel-hauled. Unf'ly I can't find it now (yes, "unf'ly" is used in tribute to someone - who read it out as "unf-ly" and then "un-fly". At no point did they seem to twig that it was in any way connected to "unfortunately").
Following the egghorn trail, and I'd just like to plug Pom du Cap - an English guy living somewhere [with authentic vegetation] near Cape Town.
Recent web stats stuff has shown a worrying trend - which I'm trying to ignore, as any comment willl only make it worse. Think imposex, a Some Like It Hot actor's daughter, and vicious rumours. Now add in the magic word pawn. Instant net success.
But on the good side, there is someone out there searching for "Panhagglety" +pictures. Which reminded me that I've never quite explained exactly what it is that panhagglety is. [Ok so the other result spewing vile lies besmirching the name of panhagglety did it].
Panhagglety/panhaggalty/panhaggelty/panhaggerty/panhaggarty/panhaggaty/panhaggatty/pan hagglety/pan haggalty/pan haggelty/pan haggerty/pan haggarty/pan haggaty/pan haggatty/pan ad nauseum. As you can tell, it's a name that's drifted over the years, and isn't normally written down. Even Google isn't sure which version to suggest. So therefore we will use the name my family uses, which is obviously the right one, and is still the accurate Northumberian version (um, well, via, Dorset, Kent, London, Birmingham, somewhere I've never figured out where it is, and assorted ex-colony type places). So panhagglety it is then [that's pronounced pan-haggle-tea].
The recipe:
My method of cooking it is a thorough corruption of my mother's version. Basically, get a large, deep frying-pan, and put some oil in it (I use whatever is available, so either sunflower or olive oil. You're probably supposed to dripping or similar, but pretty much any grease will do [provided it doesn't have bits of engine in it]). Heat on the stove until, er, hot. I tend to use the first signs of smoke as a fairly good indicator.
Now add chopped onion and bacon (one of them is supposed to go in first, but I can never remember which - whatever I do, one of them is never browned enough). Once again, you're supposed to finely chop the onions, but I use my patented not-quite-rings technique. Streaky bacon is preferable to back bacon, but use what is available (I'm not sure if streaky is preferable in terms of the taste and texture, or merely because it costs less, and you can get away with in this). Oh, by the way, scissors are infinitely the best way to go when tackling bacon [assuming you don't already have lardons - in which case, stop always shopping in Waitrose, or stop being French]. BTW, I use unsmoked bacon.
Anyway, cook the onions and bacon until they are softened and beginning to brown. This means quite a low heat for a while (but I get bored, and keep giving it bursts of flame and rapid stirring). If you're using herbs chuck them in here - though this recipe is strongly connected to the mindset where herbs are herbs, usually in a jar saying "Mixed herbs". Basically, herbs are optional (and unnecessary).
Once that's all done, turn the heat down or off, whilst you layer sliced potatoes on top. Keep going till you fill up the pan. Obviously, like the bacon and onions, it helps if you prep them beforehand, but I invariably end up doing it as I cook. I can't remember if waxy or floury potatoes are best (prob waxy?), but any big old potatoes will do [I'm fairly certain no-one has ever attempted it with Jersey Royals]. Spot who tends towards Sainsbury's "white potatoes" [i.e. the cheap ones].
Now add boiling water until the potatoes are covered (if you've forgotten to boil the kettle, cold water works too, but it just takes ages to heat up). Simmer the whole thing until there's not much water left - the potatoes should be cooked by now, but check them (and if not, you're on your own here, as that's never happened to me).
Simmer a bit more until there's really not much liquid left. I never go quite far enough, as I can't stir it, and would have to spend ages scrubbing the de-non-sticked pan if it burns (and also the burnt taste spreads throughout the food).
Serve, and eat with a fork, feeling all warm and snuggled up, safe inside condensation coated windows (extractor fan? Why would anyone need one of those?). A remarkable lack of vitamins, but very, very nice. It's probably the salty, fatty, starchy goodness that makes it taste so. It's a dish for winter evenings, when you've had enough and just want comfort food. It's quite good for getting [vegetarian] flatmates to comment, in an initially disgusted tone "What is that? Smells nice though. Can I...oh, it's got bacon in. Oh well. Would it work without the bacon?". And as for explaining the concept to an American friend, I never figured out what grits are, and she never quite got the concept of panhagglety.
I think my mother's version involves layering everything in raw [bacon and onions, then potatoes on top). Then adding cold water, and covering, and simmering up the potatoes are cooked. The lid then comes off and the water evaporated, hopefully browning the bottom layer along the way. I have no idea how this differences from her parents' versions.
A. I don't have a lid big enough for the frying pan. B. I'm a coward and so wouldn't what for the bottom to brown, and nearly burn. C. Being cowardly means it's doesn't get brown, and partially stewed streaky bacon isn't as nice.
Doing it my way can take anything from just over half an hour (once), up to 3 hours (though I was chatting for most of that, and the gas did shrivel away pathetically as everyone else in the uni tried cooking at the same time. The joy of minute pipes coming from the mains, which then served 16 fully functioning cookers, complete with ovens and grills).
Other versions I've heard of involve various combinations of cheese, mushrooms, carrots, cabbage and tomato ketchup. All of which are horrible travesties of the idea of panhagglety. Yes, I'm a purist, but then it does taste so in it's unadulterated form.
And how come I'm posting about midwinter food when it's hot and sunny outside? Because someone searched for it, and the world doesn't look so hot and sunny when you leave the house at quarter to six in morning. It does however look very pretty in a misty pre-dawn way.
Still no help on finding pictures of panhagglety (wait a couple of months till I start cooking it again, and until I get a digital camera) - but it looks like pretty much one would expect it to. Tends not to linger enough to allow effective photography.
Anyhoo,
My mum’s version, supposedly from Ireland is based on using corned beef with whatever vegetables are available then layering sliced cooked potato’s throughout. It’s delicious and in fact I am making it tonight. My mum used to make it as a cheap meal during the war.
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