Dom Davis (The Blog)

The Zozo has a quantity (I want to say six, but it could be 7) of arachnids, specifically tarantulas that she keeps at home. I remain mostly ambivalent about these house guests as, despite being anathema, they are in individual holding cells, which are placed into a locked spider containment unit in the living room. Besides, unlike your common or garden spider, they are quite cool to look at ,through the safety of the glass and 3mm Perspex barriers of course.

These spiders need feeding on a fairly regular basis and are fed a diet of live, or very recently live insects, mostly cockroaches and crickets. For a long time The Zozo was breeding a colony of cockroaches in the bathroom (safely ensconced in a double walled container before you panic) but it seems the wee beasties have munched their way through these as they no longer appear to be there. The current dish de jour would seem to be crickets. These live in a small box within the spider containment unit to keep them happy until such point as they become food.

We’ve recently had to move things about in the house. Willow will very soon outgrow her Moses basket so the living room has been reorganised to house the cot (Willow resolutely refusing to sleep upstairs). To accommodate this the spider containment unit has been moved upstairs onto the landing, which has presented a hitherto unexpected problem: chirping.

Crickets, as you may or may not know, make a chirping noise using their hind legs and you can quite often hear one of the crickets in the house doing this, especially during the night as my head is about 2m from them. What is surprising is its not the noise that I find disturbing, it’s that there is not enough of it. Having lived in many foreign countries and having, as I do, colonial roots, I am quite used the night sounds of the tropics and rather enjoy hearing the night time chorus of crickets, frogs and cicadas. It tells me that outside there is a tropical paradise, warm weather and good food. Hearing a single cricket somehow has the opposit effect. It causes to remind me that I am not in tropical climes, it’s cold outside and I’m going to have to leave the house in the dark and go to work in a few hours.

That said, the chirping does have one useful purpose: it tells me the internal holding cells of the spider containment unit have not failed and we do not need to look towards implementing the Hammer Down protocol should the second level containment fail. Its not quite the motion sensors and laser tripwires that I wanted, but The Zozo won’t let me have those because she thinks I’m being silly.

Some time ago The Zozo and I ate lunch in an Italian in the centre of Norwich. The restaurant itself was nothing special, but what was special was the chilli oil. Most chilli oil you buy is pathetic but this had bite. Not only that, but one of the little chillies in the bottle fell out onto my pizza while I was pouring the oil on and it was seriously hot. Needless to say I found out where i could buy this stuff and ordered a load for home.

Since this chilli oil contains really chillies it actually improves over time and I’ve taken to keeping the old chillies and just adding more oil and more chillies to the bottle. The oil is now so hot that I can’t even use it for cooking if The Zozo is having any. It’s good stuff!

To celebrate the arrival of Willow (and to also congratulate the team on some big releases we’ve got out – but mainly Willow) I’ve decided we’re going to have Pizza at work for lunch today. In order to maximise the pizza experience I’ve also bought in my bottle of chilli oil. I haven’t decided what pizza I’m having yet, but I do no that whichever one it is, it’s going to be hot

In a bid to encourage Nubbin into the world The Zozo decided to try spicy food last night. While the “go to” food in this instance is usually curry (and believe me, had I been hungry we would have made a visit to the Cromer Tandoori) I went a bit off piste and suggested spag bol.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, spag bol isn’t exactly the spiciest food in the world, but please don’t let the name confuse you. My spag bol can have a real kick. It’s also served with other forms of pasta that spaghetti. It’s based on what I used to call “mince creation” that I made at university but these days I’m rich and can afford jars of bolognese and when it gets spicy it probably bears more relation to chilli than anything else.

So, to prepare you oil the pan with chilli oil (that I’ve been improving for about a year now, adding the chillies from the old bottle to the new one as I use it up. It’s now 50% chillies and will bring a warmth to the lips when used to cook anything.

Add the mince. I threw in a large pack so I could freeze some. I think it was 400g. May have been more. You want lean mince. Spice with smoked paprika, garam masala, cumin and whatever other curry spices you may have. No more than half a teaspoon of each. Add an oxo cube. Bung in some dried herbs. If you want to add a bit of fun into the mix bung in a packet of old el-passo taco mix, I did Splash of soy sauce and some worcestershire sauce to add some liquid back in and cook off until browned.

Bung in some chopped veg. A sweet pepper, trimmed fine beans, asparagus, sweet corn, that kind of thing and, ooooh, half a teaspoon of chopped chilies. Cook for a few more minutes, then add some Lloyd Grossman tomato and chilli bolognese sauce. Leave to simmer for 15 minutes while you cook the pasta.

Meanwhile grab a teaspoon and take a small sample to your wife. At this point the dish is what I would call normal for my taste. Not spicy, just a little piquancy to add some fun to the dish. The Zozo has a lower tolerance for spice than me so we’re wanting to find a happy middle ground that might spark of labor but not result in her head being blown off. She wanted more spice.

While simmering add another half teaspoon of chopped chillies. Stir and take a second sample to your wife. A teaspoon of the very lazy chopped chillies is what I’d usually use in a meal for 1, and a very spicy meal it is thank you very much, however, that’s a smaller quantity of food and usually in a dish that The Zozo calls “stinky fish”. A slightly better name would be spicy teriyaki salmon. I’m guessing we’re probably at 1/4 the amount given the volume of food, but I’m not sure how the other ingredients will act to enhance or hide the spiciness. More spice.

While simmering add another teaspoon of chopped chillis, stir, taste yourself, decide its lame and and two more teaspoons of chopped chillies, another third of a teaspoon for good measure and a real good helping of tabasco sauce (probably about 20 shakes), stir some more and serve. We had ours with tubey pasta, but you can also have it with bow pasta, twirly pasta or shell pasta, or indeed any pasta you like. Forgo the cheese because you didn’t realise you’d run out, but serve with nice garlic flatbread and, if you’re a pregnant lady with a low tolerance for spice, several glasses of milk.

Personally I thought it was a tour de force, although maybe a little heavy on the tabasco as that has a tendency to flavour things, which was just on the cusp of being very spicy. We’re I to make it again I’d possibly use four and a half spoons of chillies instead of four and a third and forgo 10 shakes of the tabasco.

There was two servings left over from dinner so I put one in the fridge for me tonight and one in the freezer. I may see if I can get some microwave pasta and take the third serving into work with me tomorrow. I can’t see The Zozo having any more. It didn’t bring on labour and I think she found it quite hard going, poor thing.

So after doing lots of research it would appear there is substance behind low carb diets (what I like to call the All Kebab Diet). My studies are still ongoing but it would appear that there are no medically verified reasons why reduced carb diets at the very least shouldn’t be attempted. The jury is still out for me regarding the low carb diets and I need to do more investigation.

That said, I’m not entirely sure I need to go on a full on low carb diet. I’m not obese, and I only really want to lose my tummy. I exercise regularly and eat … well, appallingly really. If I cut out the worst carbs (sadly it seems the All Kebab and Cake diet is a pipe dream) and eat more of what I actually enjoy eating (chicken, fish, pork) with large helpings of leafy green veg, sides of peppers and other low sugar veg then I can keep eating the fruit I enjoy and have the odd splurge.

One of the main sticking points I have with reducing my carb intake further is breakfast. Technically bread and cereal are out. A little bit of fruit is ok, but too much and you’re stacking up on the simple carbs again. Eggs, bacon and sausages take time to prepare and it just feels somehow wrong to have a packet of ham slices or a chicken leg.

We’ll see how I go with the current adjustments to my diet before tinkering any more though I think.

Last night The Zozo and I went to Chez Denis, a Caribbean restaurant on the outskirts of Norwich. The Zozo had found it via a Groupon offer and we’d decided to give it a go.

Denis, the proprietor and head chef, is a St Lucian and, as with all Caribbean men, prides himself on his rum punch. Having Bajan roots myself I’m partial to a good rum punch and like to think I know a good one when I have it. The best punch I’ve had was made by Anthony Hunte at his home in St Joseph, Barbados. His exquisite garden is open to visitors and the entry price includes a punch or two.

The most lethal punch has to be the “Jungle Juice” served by Island Safaris in Barbados. Just two plastic cups of that and I was slaughtered. To be honest I’m surprised the plastic doesn’t melt with whatever they’ve got in that punch.

Denis made a punch that sat between those two. Made from rum that was 80% it had quite a kick but wasn’t quite the rocket fuel that jungle juice is. To my taste I prefer it just a little weaker, a tiny bit fruitier and with a touch more nutmeg, but that’s only if I’m being ultra picky. For a rum punch in the UK it was fantastic and it went down very well. Too well.

By the time out starters were ready I’d already finished my drink so, with a tiny bit of fake protest, I allowed myself to be made a second drink before we were shown to our table. I then proceeded to scarf down my crayfish tails (gorgeous, could have had a plate 5 times larger for a main if I was allowed) and slowly sip my drink.

Since it’s not often I drink, and not often I find good rum punch, and The Zozo was driving, and I still had my main to go I thought I may treat myself to a third drink. Denis seemed a little surprised, but happily served me another with our main – a rather tasty jerked pork for me.

By now it was getting a little hard to focus on things more than about 5 meters away and my face was decidedly numb, but I felt OK and we still had pudding to go through so maybe a sneaky fourth drink would be in order to go with that.

I think 4 was the sweet spot and any more would have me paying dearly. As it was I had to get up a few times in the night and breakfasted this morning on a large handful of pills. I think we’ll certainly go back, just not on a school night this time

Aero have introduced a new Aero Biscuit. It is, according to the advert, a combination of chocolate, bubbles and biscuit and, they go on to say, can be found in the biscuit aisle. The reality is that it’s a disappointingly small bar of cheap tasting chocolate and nondescript biscuit that left me wishing I’d just bought a normal Aero. I suspect part of the diminutive size is to allow each bar to be “only 99 calories” which makes it sound healthy but in reality means you have to eat at least 3 for them to touch the sides.

Whilst trying to locate the Aero Biscuits to give them a try (they’re not in the biscuit aisle of Morrisons by the way, they’re in with the rest of the chocolatey snacks) I was reminded of Fruit Clubs. Cheesy though it was the fact still holds that if you want a lot of chocolate on your biscuit then join their club. Whilst this suffices for a lunchtime chocolatey snack the reality is that we shouldn’t be pissing about with chocolate on our biscuits at all. No, you start from a chocolate base, add small pieces of biscuit, a few raisins and call it what it is: a chocolate bar. Thank you Yorkie. There are, of course, lard issues that need to be taken into account, expanding waistlines and the fact I look more pregnant than my wife, which is why I’m not partaking of a Raisin and Biscuit Yorkie on a daily basis but I still maintain that if you like a lot of chocolate on your biscuit stop fucking about and get a Yorkie

Last night I fancied a prawn cocktail. I love prawn cocktail, although they’re rarely large enough, so I took matters into my own hands. One bag of leafy greens, one lot of cherry tomatoes, two packs of fresh prawns (two for one ), and a jar of seafood sauce later and I was ready for a culinary masterpiece.

To prepare I simply took the largest bowl I had, filled half way up with salad leaves and then threw on tomatoes until they didn’t look lonely on the acres of green. A good application of cracked ethnically-diverse pepper was then applied followed by both packs of prawns (suitably drained). Finally seafood sauce was then ladled generously over the top.

Would probably serve 8 as a starter, or just me for a main

There are two (2) curry houses in Cromer: The Dalyia Spice and The Cromer Tandoori. The Dalyia Spice is the newcomer, with a large seating area, high profile frontage and location with high footfall traffic, especially during peak season. Its location, some 100m away, would make it fantastically convenient if it weren’t for one fundamental problem: the food is not good. Now, to be fair, we have only eaten there once and it was a lunch rather than a dinner but the curry was such that neither The Zozo or I dare risk another visit just in case it wasn’t a one off. Couple that with the fact that they don’t do lamb pathia and you’ll understand why I walk the extra few hundred meters across town to The Cromer Tandoori.

The Cromer Tandoori is, to my mind, one of the best curry houses I’ve been to (beating in mind I’ve lived in Bradford and know my curry houses ) but it has been suffering of late with the recession and competition with the Dalyia Spice. In order to lend my hand to supporting local business I have mare sure that I order curry (lamb tikka pathia, meat samosa, onion bhaji, garlic naan, two japatis, two popadoms) at least once every couple of months from them. This has absolutely nothing to do with my love of curry and absolutely everything to do with keeping Cromer high street vibrant and profitable. Honest.

Last night was my first curry of the year, something I’d been hankering after for a few days, and I can tell you that it was goooooood. I was also pleased to note that it was quite busy too, perhaps business is picking up. Of course, one can’t be too complacent so I shall continue to embark on my civic duty every so often, as the need arises

So, what with stag dos, weddings, honeymoons, general laziness and a myriad of other excuses I’ve not been to the gym since September. Add to that a high sugar, high fat diet and I’ve been getting steadily wider. I did mean to start rectifying this last week, even going so far as to walk to the gym only to find my membership had expired. Unlike pretty much most gyms in this country, my gym doesn’t need 4 years notice to cancel a perpetual direct debit. You pay upfront for 6 months. If you want more you pay again after 6 months. Simples If only it was a tiny bit cheaper…

Anyway, last week I had to go for checkup with the urology unit in Norwich which, among other things, involved weighing me. Now, I only accept weighing from the gym scales as, regardless of how accurate they are, I’ll get similar readings for similar weights and I’m wearing the same clothes each time. Even so, and bearing in mind I was fully clothed, resplendent with jumper, the result was scary. That was it, come Saturday diets and exercise regimes start again!

Previously I’ve been using a collection of apps to track calories and exercise, all offline. Goron, over at soapyfrog has been using My Fitness Pal for similar reasons and has been extolling it’s virtues. Given it was free I thought I’d give it a go and, as a result, have a public profile for you to peek at if you care. Whether I stick with that app or return to my old one very much depends on the food database.

The good news, however, is that, according to the gym scales, the damage of the past 2 months isn’t as bad as feared. I’m a stone over my ideal weight but I can loose that quick enough.

There is something about the Full English Breakfast which not only puts it in the top 3 of all breakfast types but that seems to be impossible for foreigners to copy. I’m not sure what it is, but finding a good Full English outside of the UK is rare.

The Americans, as far as I can tell, come closest but they use the wrong type of bacon and overcook it. That said, when in America, you should be doing proper American breakfasts since they too rate in my top 3 and the crispy bacon works well with a stack of pancakes or a waffle. They’re useless when it comes to tea though. Seriously, Americans take note: filling a half drunk cup of tea with hot water without prompting is like pissing in someones beer to fill it up. You just don’t do it. Also, if we’re working with teabags and hot water in a mug then new teabag for each mug full, OK?

The Europeans don’t have a blind clue how to fry an egg, resulting in a rubbery disk and, in the majority of countries, they don’t have the correct bacon either. Tea appears to be a collection of ‘fruit infusions’. This is not tea! I want black tea, preferably English Breakfast tea. And no noncing about with Earl Grey. We’re doing things properly here. Thankfully the Europeans do do a nice line in pastries, crêpes and waffles so it’s not a total write off, just don’t expect breakfast to cure any hangovers.

The Malaysians, due to the Muslim contingent, don’t appear to do pork, or at least not in public food dispensing places. This means they fail at The Full English before they’ve even started. The sausages are heavily processed chicken or beef affairs in the style of hot dog sausages, not big fat butchers sausages (hell, they could get away with beef sausages if they were real ones, the sausage area is one where you can experiment and innovate), and the bacon is ‘beef bacon’. Yes, exactly. Beef bacon seems to be cut from the same part of the cow as you’d get bacon from a pig and comes in thin, salted and fried strips. It’s sort of like hot beef biltong in taste, but not quite. It’s certainly not bacon, and I’m not convinced on its suitability for the breakfast table. Like the Europeans the Malaysians can’t fry an egg to save their life and the rubbery mess sits there next to the strangely large baked beans looking unappetising. Finally, the butter seems to taste odd. This may be a function of it being constantly melted in the heat and then being put back in the fridge. The Malay take on The Full English is, therefore, a complete travesty, but one of our own making. You see, the Malaysians don’t eat Full English Breakfasts for breakfast. No, they eat nasi lemak and other such goodness. Breakfasts that, unless you’re in serious need of curing a bad hangover, rate as my number one breakfast foods.

The fact that foreign climes are having to attempt, and thus balls up completely, our fine breakfast cuisine boils down to the large majority of British holiday makers who won’t eat any ‘foreign muck’. They are, as far as I’m concerned, missing out and have made it so that some mornings in Borneo I wasn’t able to have curry for breakfast. I want these people publicly flogged so the next time I go out there I can eat Malaysian food for all three meals.

In the meantime the first meal we had on our return to Blighty was a massive sausage and bacon sarny with real bacon and proper sausages. Pigs were harmed in the making of this meal