Including a Land Rover mixtape and a virtually foolproof recipé…
On cassette tonight, in the spartan cab of a Series Three long-wheel-base Land Rover…streaming on Mixcloud here. Full text below and the music too.
Ane Brun and Dustin O’Halloran — Lose My Way
Michael Nesmith — She Thinks I Still Care
Average White Band — Pick Up the Pieces
Jesus and Mary Chain — April Skies
Mylo — Drop the Pressure
Beta Band — Dry the Rain
Idlewild — A Modern Way of Letting Go
Stone Roses — Fool’s Gold
Elvis Costello — Pump It Up
The Modern Lovers — Roadrunner
Boards of Canada — Dayvan Cowboy
Dandy Warhols — Not if You Were the Last Junkie in the World
Paul Brady — Road to the Promised Land
Ane Brun and Dustin O’Halloran — Lose My Way
Michael Nesmith — She Thinks I Still Care
Two thirty in the morning, the ghost hours. I left Adelaide sleeping upstairs, pulled on some tracksuit bottoms and an old jumper, and crept down to the bar kitchen. I could hear the occasional wheeze of wind from outside, but otherwise a muffled, deadened quiet prevailed; when I peered out of the window, the early spring snow was lying about a foot deep around the door, slightly drifting in the eddies of wind. It was no night to be on the Swipe. I was fairly sure they would have either turned back for here or reached the Bridge Inn by the time I’d phoned a few hours ago.
Adelaide could be a little too protective sometimes. Even the most technologically advanced Range Rover, complete with gravitational levitation control or whatever, would struggle. I hoped that if the Creightons got stuck they would stay in the car, and not commit the grievous error, if they were swamped in a snowdrift, of leaving the engine running for the heater to work. Theirs was a self-charging hybrid, and the limitations of electric vehicles were cruelly exposed in bad Highland weather. They’d be out of juice in no time if they didn’t burn petrol. And in a snow drift, unless they unblocked the exhaust, fossil fuels could find a way of killing you.
Average White Band — Pick Up the Pieces
Jesus and Mary Chain — April Skies
In the Highlands, we run on heavy oil. And peat. Wood. Coal. Paraffin. Dirty but effective. Hydro when the cables aren’t down, fair enough, and renewables would have their day, ripping apart the landscape to provide power for the south cities. But for back up generators and driving, it’s a case of trusting Herr Rudolf Diesel.
Philip and Mandy Creighton looked as if they had the expensively practical clothing to survive a few hours. I thought for a bit, and then dialled a number. Landline to landline. Old school. It was picked up surprisingly quickly. Rock’n’roll timekeeping.
Mylo — Drop the Pressure
Beta Band — Dry the Rain
“All right Fin?” I said. “Can you put that wee hydraulic snow plough on the old Series Three and head round? I think we’re going to have to go on a mission of mercy. Old pals of yours.”
“Cry Town Management. The Phil and Mandy show.” There was a heavy sigh. “ I knew they were going to come looking. Did Adelaide bury them somewhere.”
“More or less. Sent them east along the Swipe. No sign of them in Helmsdale”
“Good heart, that woman. You should treasure her. Or be careful never to upset her. I’ll be along.”
Idlewild — A Modern Way of Letting Go
Stone Roses — Fool’s Gold
Elvis Costello — Pump It Up
It would take Fin about 40 minutes to get here from Cruiskeen Hall, the old shooting lodge he called home. Suddenly I felt a need for comfort food. And if I wanted to eat what I had in mind I would have to make it myself.
Fly Cemetery, we called it. Currant cake was my mum’s name for what wasn’t a cake at all, really, but a tart. Or it could be made as a simple traybake. And nothing else took me back to the simple security of childhood, mouthful by sweet, succulent mouthful. Also, if it was ready in time, It was the perfect high-carb, sugary accompaniment for a dangerous trip through the snow in an ancient Series Three Landrover.
I switched on the oven and got to work. The recipé was etched on my brain. But it was also in the old Leuchttrum 1917 notebook I kept on top of the fridge, along with many others. And I knew I had a pack of Jus-rol. Fake it until you bake it, I say.
Mum’s currant cake
Ingredients:
150 grams of currants
50 g raisins
75 g sugar
50 g butter
1 teaspoon mixed spice
A spoon of bitter marmalade
Some beaten egg
Two sheets of ready-made Jus-Rol shortcrust pastry
Pre-heat your oven to 180°c (or 160°c for a fan assisted oven or Gas Mark 4) and grease a baking tray with a little butter.
Mix the currants, sugar, butter and mixed spice in a bowl.
Place one sheet of pastry onto your tray.
Spoon the currant mixture evenly onto the pastry on the baking tray (about a centimetre thickness, maybe slightly more according to taste), leaving a small gap around the edges.
Brush the top pastry with some beaten egg. Prick a few holes on the top of the pastry with a fork.
Bake for 25-30 minutes until a light golden brown.
Remove from the oven and sprinkle some sugar on top to finish. Once completely cool, cut into squares or slices of your desired size.
Some will claim there should be a greater thickness of filling, or that you should (horrific thought) ice the top. That way madness lies. Also, commercial versions of this will use mincemeat and mixed fruit, and have the pastry horribly thick. The thin Jus-rol sheets are perfect, though you can roll your own, so to speak, if you like.
It works with puff pastry but the texture is not the same as my mum’s currant cake.
Mum never left her recipés. I had to experiment for years before I managed to reproduce the lost taste of reassurance, stability and love. Of a good childhood. Every taste now, if I get it right, and sometimes, for various reasons, it isn’t right…is a taste of home. High teas before the gospel meeting. The delicious, temporary sugar buzz that was better than religion. Or maybe it was the same thing.
The Modern Lovers — Roadrunner
Boards of Canada — Dayvan Cowboy
I heard the rattle of an old diesel outside as I sprinkled the top of the pastry with sugar. Brasher boots, A Fladen survival suit over what I had on, woolly hat and then, wearing a pair of army surplus tankdriver’s gloves, gloves, I picked up the hot tray and headed out to meet Fin. Fingal. Jingle.
You can only protect someone’s privacy for so long.
Dandy Warhols — Not if You Were the Last Junkie in the World
Paul Brady — Road to the Promised Land
On cassette tonight, in the spartan cab of a Series Three long-wheel-base Land Rover…streaming on Mixcloud here.
Ane Brun and Dustin O’Halloran — Lose My Way
Michael Nesmith — She Thinks I Still Care
Average White Band — Pick Up the Pieces
Jesus and Mary Chain — April Skies
Mylo — Drop the Pressure
Beta Band — Dry the Rain
Idlewild — A Modern Way of Letting Go
Stone Roses — Fool’s Gold
Elvis Costello — Pump It Up
The Modern Lovers — Roadrunner
Boards of Canada — Dayvan Cowboy
Dandy Warhols — Not if You Were the Last Junkie in the World
Paul Brady — Road to the Promised Land
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