Tag: bread

A Night In The Life Of Lockdown Pizzas

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Kick off is at five and I can see people outside at the door trying to get in. I used to have it closed but unlocked in the half hour before I began and as I did my prep but it soon became evident that people were keen on disturbing me in search of cake, pies and bread. As I’m more concerned with wanting to do my prep than help them not wait half an hour, the door is now locked. I avoid their pleading, desperate and starved eyes. I chop tomatoes. I realise everything else is still plentiful from last night. Pizza base count – only twenty. It’s Wednesday, twenty is probably enough. Prep done. Time to make eye contact and make the shrugged sorry shoulder gesture, spin my hand with pointed finger to signify the turning of something – in this instance time – and hold up five fingers for five o’clock. I wonder if they’ll come back in five minutes instead.

First person through the door decides to make a bad joke about getting a receipt just to check I didn’t put £300 through instead of £3 before waiting uncomfortably for the receipt. I decide not to put her out of her misery and tell her there’s a £45 contactless limit. It’s not because shes distrustful she wants me to know as she laughs nervously. I realised I haven’t cut any mushrooms and don’t have many pizza bases pre-passatered, perhaps starring at hungry customers trapped outside was not the best use of my time. I’m starting to feel a little heartburn from the sliver of walnut cake I just had, working in a bakery is not good for my health. First pizza takeaway sale and it’s two double cheeseburgers. I was vegan once.

My mate has just turned up with some official Lockdown Pizzas merchandise. It’s only taken four months and we close in less than three weeks but I’m now proudly sporting a red T-shirt with Lockdown Pizzas in black on the back and a black hoody with the same on the back but in red. They’ve put a space in Lock down but at least it’s spelt right. This might not be a co-operative or upholding any of the ideals I like to still believe I hold but it’s always good to be sporting the red and black. The fact these colours hide most of the likely ingredients I’ll cover myself in is simply a bonus.

…

That didn’t quite go to plan. I was hoping to have time to write a quick paragraph of each hour but the night turned out pretty busy and as it’s just me heroically working away, I barely got a chance to think let alone write anything. I’m sure there were all sorts of witty observations all throughout the night but they’re now lost in the ether of nothingness and non-existence. Unless time isn’t linear of course which would mean they’re happening now and always, both of which concepts wouldn’t exist either surely. I digress.

I messed up two orders tonight. One I realised I had done so as I put the pizzas in the boxes, vocalising my realisation as it came to me with an “Oh fuck” which was followed by me looking at the man and his asking quite intuitively whether I had forgotten the chips. He was fine about it, he could see how busy I was. The other time was right at the end I was probably about fifteen minutes late but they were fine about it too as they could also see how busy I was. People can be alright sometimes. It’s quite refreshing for this not to be a piece complaining about or making fun of customers as would be expected. Coincidentally with tonight being a night I attempted a running commentary, we actually sold out for the first time. Usually I have loads of bases in reserve but a mixture of me being slow to remind the guy in the bakery who makes them and him being slow to make them meant tonight was a special night. Amusingly the only person I had to turn away though was the actual guy who makes the bases as he thought he would pop in for one on his break. He says he’ll make one hundred for me tomorrow.

We have less than three weeks left and it will be the end of this little experiment. I’m alway keen on trying new things and now that I have a tshirt, hoody and scooter – which was only ever used a handful of times – I’ll probably have to come back next year and do it again. Saying that, this holiday I’m planning can’t come soon enough. There will be a lot of sleeping.

One Moment, Four Eyes

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There is a saying out there in the ether that goes along the lines of ‘no two people experience a moment the same way’. At about ten o’clock this morning I scribbled down ‘narrative confirming events & narratives to mould events’. Unfortunately the precise meaning of that seems to have slipped my mind in the time between but it was undoubtedly wise in one way or another. At this time I had just finished delivering bread having got up to do so about seven hours earlier and after three hours sleep having finished making pizzas late the night before. When people sleep this little, and what appears to be quite regularly these days, they have a habit of being a little grumpy and irrational. This morning was one of those days.

I can’t remember exactly what I meant but I think it had something to do with one of the people I was delivering to asking the annoying “Have you done this?” Have you done that?” despite the fact I always do this and that, and haven’t not once. I gave a pretty straight “Yes, no and I will” but really I wanted to let her know I didn’t appreciate her accusing me of not knowing how to do my relatively easy and straightforward job. Had I not been so tired and grumpy I suspect I wouldn’t have even noticed it as an issue but the mind can play tricks on you when it’s stretched.

This then was one version of an experience. Later as I drove away I mumbled to myself how she was rude and probably an idiot. This is most likely unfair and I suspect this is the case because I attempted to look at it from another perspective. Namely, hers. I remember when I was attempting to make a little sense of the world in my twenties I discovered the concept of compassion. To be able to experience compassion, one technique is to put yourself in the other persons position and view the event through their eyes. Maybe this is giving her an excuse and she was just being rude but perhaps there was a reason she was being so specific and direct with these questions. It is possible the other drivers haven’t always done these things requested but there is every chance she has been told by her boss to make sure of this and that, and she is stressing them to me because she knows she’ll get grief if they’re not done. Whether this is simply me giving her an excuse and letting her off I will never know. Also, she may have not even been that rude and I was just overreacting in my mind. Really though I don’t need to know because it doesn’t matter. The moment I thought that this may be a reason for her attitude my own anger towards her dissipated and I felt what can only be described as compassion. I had let go and the chain of negative emotions had been broken.

This was one moment and those were two ways to experience it. How narratives come into it is arguably less clear but most likely had something to do with allowing the idea that everyone and everything was out to annoy me. This shaped how I felt the situation unfolded and how I viewed it. It could be a good idea to write down a few notes alongside the main note for understanding purposes but one step at a time. I’ve been writing this blog so long and I can count the amount of times I’ve written notes like that on one hand. Still, there was something in there worth writing about I’m sure. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and try to spot a more suitable example for next time.

Burnt Horticulturalism

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Today then is a little horticultural update. An update on my failed venture into horticulturalism to be precise. Interestingly enough too on a side note, horticulturalism doesn’t appear to be a word which surprises me. If a horticulturalist is someone who practices or is learning gardening and plant management lets say, then if they believe in the theory of gardening as some kind of ideology or movement then surely it must be capable of being an ‘ism’. Surely horticulturalism could be a theoretical approach to fighting the slide into a climate catastrophe, a belief that gardening could save the world perhaps. It’s probably not a far fetched as it sounds depending how it’s worded.

I decided to use the power of the internet and there are suggestions it might just be a word. According to dictionary.com there is no such word but wiktionary.org – I know anything beginning with wik should be immediately dismissed but humour me – suggests it is a synonym of horticulturism, which dictionary.com also suggests isn’t a word, not that dictionary.com is necessarily the most respected of dictionary sources, and that it means ‘a small scale agricultural lifestyle’ which sounds about right. Interestingly apparently in psychology it is ‘the idea that people do not need explicit instruction from others in order to develop cognition, but can be nurtured to develop cognition individually’, in other words they can develop cognition in the same way a plant can grow or garden can develop.

I seem to have digressed massively to the point that this entire piece has little to do with the failed attempt at nurturing a few plants I was originally going to share. I have one chilli plant, one red skin pepper which is basically a chilli too and an aubergine plant. They were coming along well enough considering they have been living on the inside of a window ledge and not a garden but recently I discovered they had caught plant lice, more commonly known as aphids. These little fuckers multiplied and I could tell my poor babies were suffering to the point something needed to be done. When my rainbow chilli plant travelling companion in Australia got aphids I simply left it on the roof of my car most of the day and the ladybirds did their ravenous job but inside here is different. I read that you can wipe diluted washing up liquid on the leaves but I decided to attempt another method I read about instead. Apparently if you dilute vinegar you can spray it on the plants and the aphids will leave. It turns out all you do is burn the leaves, kill the flowers, weaken your plant and make your room stink of vinegar. As you can see from the picture it has been a resounding failure. I plan tomorrow to offer them up to my mother who has a garden in the countryside and who can hopefully nurture them back to life with the help of the local ladybirds. It is like the plant version of retreating to the countryside to convalesce. They need nursing. They need recovery. This will certainly be used as an example of something profound when this finds it’s way into the future theory of horiculturalism. Step as Marx and Friedman, there’s a new player in town and he’s armed with compost.

A Heroes Welcome

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As I drove through the small village near my home at about five minutes past eight this evening I noticed people had lined the street and started clapping as I approached. It’s good to have my existence celebrated finally. The strange thing is that having stopped their 8pm clap for carers session, some actually clapped in my direction as I drove by. I was in a delivery van so I wonder if they saw me as some kind of hero putting my life on the line to deliver them their bread. Still, I just drove on. I did contemplate hooting the horn as I drove through but I didn’t want to play along with whatever it is they’re doing. To be completely honest, I think the whole things a charade and it’s stupid. Don’t get me wrong I’m sure there are some exhausted and not to mention ill nurses out there and I appreciate and respect them for doing what their doing, there’s just something empty about this whole clapping show. Each Thursday at 8pm people line the streets, clap and bang pots. It’s a lovely gesture but I suspect for many it’s hollow.

It’s worth pointing out that were I live in both Northumberland and the Scottish Borders, Tory MPs were voted in to power recently. Perhaps these people banging pots could instead just not vote for them next time. Who gives a shit about what you think if you clap your hands and then vote for the very people who actively weaken those you’re clapping for. The mind numbing hypocrisy just seems lost and maybe that’s the worst part. I want to hang a banner from my window highlighting this but I’m concerned the attention it might draw to the bakery below me may not be ideal. I just want to slap everyone and point out that they’re idiots. There’s too many idiots.

People talk about ten years of Tory government and their ideological attacks on the NHS as being the reason for it’s current struggles but that’s not accurate. Either people have short memories or they’re just playing party politics. While I would trust Jeremy Corbyn with the NHS, I would be curious to know people’s opinions on Tony Blair’s version of a Labour Government. But really we can go back as far as Thatcher and the first real inroads of a neoliberal movement to destroy something that has helped so many. In truth actually we could go all the way back to Nye Bevan and the Tory government he had to fight against to establish the NHS we all love and cherish now. You see, it’s not just ten years of Tory austerity. Or forty years of neoliberalism. These bastards have had it in for free health care since the very beginning. Don’t believe their lies. And if you vote for them, save your breath, and save your effort each Thursday night. If you truly cared for the carers you wouldn’t be voting for that self-serving mob. It’s not bloody hard to understand.

Lockdown Pizzas

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Drum roll please…now is the time to reveal what it was that got me all worked up the other day. Edge of your seat stuff I’m sure, it would be a surprise had you not already read the title. Yes myself and a couple of friends are selling takeaway pizzas. Let’s be honest there’s nothing like a good crisis to make a little cash. They own a bakery and as they’re still open delivering bread we thought we may as well make a few pizzas as a side project and see how it goes. It’s great though because they already understand bread so we have a really nice thin sourdough base and they have proper stone ovens so they’re stonebaked too. Genuinely they’re really nice. I’m the creative director / pizzas artist. There are no takeaways open at all in the area and people seem reasonably enthused by the prospect of being able to alleviate the tedium of this current social experiment with the idea of comfort food. On top of that we will use some of the money we manage to raise and either donate it to the NHS or if there are any local families who have been affected by the virus it would be a good thing to try and help them if possible, even just a weeks food shop. Like everything it’s a lets see how it evolves thing as clearly all is currently unknown.

But yes there was the stress. I was in a terrible fettle on Wednesday. The realisation of what we were doing all came to me at once and the intensity of the energy was just too much. I can’t remember exactly what I said in the piece on Wednesday but I think towards the end I said something about channeling the energy and even if I didn’t I have had the most remarkable two days since. Whenever I found the energy building up I detached myself from it for long enough to stop it being overwhelming, but more importantly I consciously managed to use it to focus on whatever task I needed to do. This means I have been running around like a mad man for two days but have done it in a focused controlled way which was an interesting experience for such an idle man ordinarily.

Today was ridiculous, first we found out the pizza boxes weren’t going to arrive which would make selling pizzas pretty difficult. The show must go on though so we can up with some solutions but in the end managed to buy some off a man in a van in a layby and then it turned out the vegetable order hadn’t gone through so we weren’t going to have any veggies or cheese for the pizzas. We managed to behave like toilet roll fanatics in the local co-op and emptied shelves. Ultimately both these situations would have destroyed me on Wednesday but today I managed to use the power they created for focus and drive. What a feeling. Maybe this is what people do.

Anyway I’m exhausted and I’ve got to be up in the early hours again to deliver bread tomorrow. It is simply non-stop at the moment. So as the show must go on, it may be wise to draw the curtain on this piece for today. Need to conserve my energy for another evening of pizza making after all.

A Delivery Of Bread, Harmony and Brexit

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Today began with an interesting morning of delivering bread. I went along this morning with one of the delivery drivers so I could learn his route in case he ever needs some one to cover him. This driver is an interesting man. Certainly at three o’clock in the morning he was far more chatty than I expected but after I while I managed to warm up and discover the ability to hold conversation. We chatted about a few things but at one point after I told him I had lived in Greece for a few years he asked me what the situation with the immigrants is. Now this kind of question can go one of two ways and it comes from a basis usually of “poor refugees” or “economic migrants we may have to be wary of”. I have found myself in this situation enough times to recognise this and give a general answer about how conditions are terrible there and now I can warn of the dangers of this virus in the camps. If he is inclined to be on the economic migrant side of the debate he doesn’t really get a window into the conversation from that angle and I’m careful not to go full refugee’s need rescuing and help coming to Britain because it opens up the possibilities of pointless arguments I cannot be bothered with.

Inevitably the conversation one way or another led onto politics and down the rabbit hole of nostalgia that Brexit has become. He was confident enough of his beliefs to admit to disliking faceless bureaucrats and being pro-Brexit. I suggested it wasn’t as straightforward as that because unfortunately we have plenty of faceless bureaucrats in the UK, we will soon be the United States’ little bitch and I enjoy living and working in foreign countries. The conversation very quickly got to the point we’ve all recognised before where the next step is basically you saying “No you’re wrong” and him saying “No actually you’re wrong”. For anyone who had one, a Brexit discussion reaches a very quick climax of that exact sort without fail. And you know what, there was something about that moment which I realised I missed.

The chap I was having this debate with was the archetypal northern mid-50s working man, he was even called Dave. That is no word of a lie. I like him he’s a good man and I really enjoyed this conversation about a topic which we’ve all forgotten took over our lives six months ago before we moved onto the killer virus. It was painfully evident that despite society having an enormous hug we’ve still got a long way to go to build bridges and men like Dave are still as determined about their understanding of societies ills as snowflake millennials like me of their opposite.

I still can’t get over how much of the perfect box he fit in and genuinely I’m not saying that as a criticism. I think we all forget in our determination to be right and force our version of right on others that we may just be wrong. It is only in understanding that and that men like Dave are not the enemy but very much on the same team as us that we may actually remove those who have pillaged and offered such little genuine hope to people. Dave hasn’t created this shit show, neither have I although we both continue to allow it’s existence as we wag fingers at each other while having our pockets picked. We talk of this virus bringing us together as a society but if we don’t get over any of the other bullshit we’ll just as quickly become divided down old lines once more. It’ll take us all. If not the old order will have won once again.

A Daily Update

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I’ve been making pizza today. Lot’s of pizza. I have made them before from scratch and it is very satisfying going through the whole process from start to finish. Today though I did it in my friends bakery with all the machinery and stonebaked ovens to put a slightly different spin on proceedings. We made about twenty as well and delivered them to some friends in the village. Seemingly all the takeaways in the area have closed due to this virus which is probably not a bad idea but there would certainly be benefits to all involved in keeping them open. My friends bakery is still open because it is essential, people need their bread and pies.

There has always been something satisfying about cooking something like pizzas from beginning to end and there have been a few times I’ve cooked them in wood burning ovens which adds to the satisfaction as you’re standing in front of a roasting hot fire and sweating, and it’s intense, and you’re drinking beer, and you’re in full on adrenaline mode and you feel alive. Fuck that’s good fun. Especially when you’re cooking for a lot of people. I miss fires, I miss sitting around them, I miss cooking them, I miss sourcing wood, I miss my axe, I miss that moment when you realise the fire has taken, oh I just miss it. There is a lot to be said for normal existence and working a job and living in a house, it’s been an interesting experience which has taught me a lot, but how I would like to be back in my van, on the road and making a fire.

There’s no driving into nature in these moments and I’m pleased that is the case. People shouldn’t be leaving the city and potentially taking the virus out to rural communities which won’t be able to cope. The talk today was of a couple from London who had come up to stay in the holiday home for the weekend. The locals are not happy, I’ll be surprised if they’re not lynched before the end of tomorrow. They may need a new holiday home after this. People are quick to forget though. Once this all blows over they’ll just become another couple of outsiders spending money and their faces will blur in with everyone else’s. That’s how it works.

That’s the thing around these parts. Without the tourists I couldn’t imagine how much of a dump these little villages would be. They’re so insular but if you’ve got cash, well fuck it you’re my friend. It’s like that everywhere though lets be honest. I’m not sure how I got here. In life as much as in this piece. I was going to tell you all about the pizza fun I’ve been having but it’s been a long day and I’m already three beers deep since I got in, realised it was late and sat down to write this. That may explain a lot of things. Oh I wish I was at the edge of a lake somewhere, parked up in my van and sitting all cozy around a fire. But if I was doing all that then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of making pizzas all day. We forget what we have when we desire everything else.

Coronavirus Shopping News

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Go on, admit it, who panicked back there for a little? Buy too much toilet roll did you? How about all those bags of porridge oats you heard were nutritious and would last a long time? What on earth are you going to do with all those tins of kidney beans, you don’t even like kidney beans. How did that baking bread mission go, bored of the effort yet? It’s great being able to take the moral high ground and call people out for being pricks.

I saw something online earlier that some councillor in Derby had posted showing bins full of food people had dumped because they had bought too much and it had good bad. Loaves of bread, chicken, vegetables, that type of thing. There was what appeared to be a carefully placed bunch of bananas at the top of one pile though yet the bananas looked fresh, not a speck of aged brown on them, eerily similar to the standard I bought earlier today actually. The skeptical monster in me went into overdrive, my bullshitometre when wild with excitement as I realised the whole thing stunk of set up. The game given away by someone trying just too hard to make the food waste look unjustifiable. I don’t care what you say, nobody throws away a fresh bunch of bananas.

I must confess that in all the panic I did buy two things in bulk, three actually if you count that I now have two kilos of peanut butter and one of cashew nut butter. I must stress though that I eat that stuff normally, and found it strange that in all the panic with empty shelves everywhere, there were loads of tubs of inexpensive pure peanut butters which are a great source of protein and fats. How many times, you can’t live off toilet roll and tinned tomatoes. Actually four things if you count the three tins of sardines I bought thinking it was mackerel, three tins which might find themselves donated to a food bank it’s worth adding.

I bought about three months supply of multivitamins, vitamin c and probiotics just incase it does all go tits up and I’m living on stale bread and water for a bit, also to keep me healthy with virus’ going around of course. I bought thirty kilograms of dog food for my little darling too. People didn’t seem to mention pets in all of this chaos but what happens if the food supply dries up and we run out of pet food, do we start giving them people food when we’re hungry ourselves? Well to avoid that conundrum I now have a back up of three to four months worth of food for her. I may not have rushed out for myself but at least my dog won’t go hungry. It’s amazing the lengths we’ll go to when we find someone or something to love.

But the madness seems to have calmed. The shelves are full and now people only look suspiciously at each other looking for signs of potential illness. I saw a great moment in the queue for the check out though when a woman reminded the couple behind her that they should be keeping a distance of two metres. The man just suggested she simply move forward to create it oblivious to the fact that she would then be less than the two metres from whoever was in front of her. People are a constant source of entertainment. I bet she got about two days worth of excitement from retelling that story.

Exhaustion

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They say variety is the spice of life. Well they say something is the spice of life but I’m exhausted and exactly what it is doesn’t feel overly important right now. If that is accurate I guess the assumption must be that variety makes life interesting, and keeps you coming back for more, gives you energy and enthusiasm one could say. Variety in the sense of exhaustion, as exhaustion is just another part of life is it not, would suggest that different types of exhaustion make the act or sense of exhaustion interesting and worth repeating, eliciting enthusiasm even. Does exhaustion give you energy in that case? It is said that the more you do; the more you do, and that is not accidental repetition. When people exercise for the first time they may be able to run for five minutes before suffering for a few days and forcing seven minutes out of themselves the next time. Eventually they’re running thirty minutes every day and find themselves more energised throughout the day as a whole. Arguably they’re doing more but feeling less exhaustion, and with it exercise becomes some sort of a paradox.

The point to all this is that today I have experienced some variety in my exhaustive state. I returned from Sheffield last night, slept three hours and went and delivered bread. Let’s just say I was pretty tired by the end but somehow I felt that past tired feeling in which you can’t seem to stop and won’t until you collapse. After about another three hours sleep I went to my kickboxing class and worked hard. Today I sparred with the coach as numbers were odd and while clearly he holds back, he’s still too fast for me and got me with a good uppercut at one point. I was pretty tired during the class because I was working hard and it can be an exhausting sport when you do put the effort in. When I got back to the car I felt pretty happy with myself, post exercise dopamine release or something like that, but I felt energised and could have done more.

I am looking forward to my bed but it is important not to allow exhaustion to stop us from doing things. We are far more capable of finding energy when we have to than what we convince ourselves as we flop onto the sofa and watch a film. When we listen to the idle monster, or the inner bitch as I’ve heard it said, in our mind we do less, and feel like doing less the next time. It’s a vicious spiral, the opposite to the runner improving time and regularity each day. It can be hard but once we train our minds to quit whinging, embrace the new routine and just do it, it is remarkable how quickly it can be easy to do anything which in the past you would convince yourself you were too tired for. The body and mind are incredible things, individually and together, perhaps it may be time to stop wasting them and start making the most of the remarkable things we’re capable of as a species.