6 xl eggs
1 largish onion, diced
about 1/3 kilo potatoes, sliced very small
1 bell pepper, diced
Salt the pieces of potato in a bowl. Mix in the chopped onion. Heat about 100 ml of oil in a large frying pan. Turn the heat down to its lowest setting. Gently stew the potato and onion mixture in the oil for around 15 minutes. Stir in the chopped pepper and leave to cook for another 15 mnutes or so. The secret here is to cook slowly over a very low heat and wait patiently. Stir occasionally to make sure it doesn’t stick to the pan.
Meanwhile, beat the eggs very lightly in a large bowl. Just beat them enough to break up the yolks and mix with the whites. Drain the oil from the cooked potatoes and stir them into the eggs. Heat some butter and a little oil in the frying pan, then turn the heat back down to low again. Pour the omelette mixture into the pan and leave to cook slowly.
After about 15 minutes, there should be very little uncooked egg left on the top of the mixture. Take the pan off the heat, cover with a large dinner plate and deftly flick it over to drop the tortilla onto the plate. Put the pan back on the heat and slide the tortilla off the plate back into the pan. Leave for another 5 – 10 minutes or so, still at low heat, at which point it should be cooked through. Flip it onto a plate again and serve!
A friend pointed out that Control, the Ian Curtis biopic, was still on at the Curzon this week. So we went to see it on Thursday, and I’m very glad that I went. It’s a beautiful looking film, shot in black and white by Anton Corbijn, based on Deborah Curtis' biography of her husband – Touching From A Distance. The music is excellent. I thought that the actors were miming to Joy Division songs but, it turns out, they played their own instruments for the live scenes. They really do sound like Joy Division. I love Unknown Pleasures, so it was great to hear Disorder and She’s Lost Control.
The story isn't 100% true to life, which might annoy the more pedantic Joy Division fans. Stephen Morris wasn’t actually the drummer for Warsaw when Ian joined the band, and their first TV performance wasn’t Transmission. These are minor niggles. The main story of Ian and Deborah's marriage is well told, although his manic depression is glossed over. If you’ve seen 24 hour Party People, you might remember a pissed-up Joy Division doing a drunk version of Louie Louie at a Factory party. Then there’s the story of Ian ending an argument with Rob Gretton by sticking a bin on his own head and screaming. Neither of those aspects of him come across in Control, unfortunately. Incidentally, the bloke who plays Gretton does a great job. It's worth watching the film just for him.
That said, I thought it was a moving film. I used to think Ian Curtis was a self-absorbed, cheating twat, to be honest, but perhaps I was too hasty. A very troubled bloke, desperately in need of help but who isolated himself from the very people who could help him. Probably my favourite film of 2007. Definitely one to see, even if you aren’t a Joy Division fan yourself.
“He didn't commit suicide because he had marital problems. He had marital problems because he wanted to commit suicide.”
Bruce Lawson takes time out from exploring the sultry ladyboys of southeast Asia to write about the landmine problem in Cambodia. Two people a day are blown up by Cambodian mines, on average.
Unrelated to that, I spent some birthday money (thanks Matt!) on new music this week and I wanted to say that Built to Spill's ‘Goin' against your mind' is one of the best songs I’ve heard in ages. You can listen to it free on builttospill.com.
Just watched the Pixies at Newport DVD, courtesy of Amazon DVD rental. A mellow, acoustic gig from an American folk festival. It’s good, although odd to hear subdued versions of River Euphrates and I Bleed. Reminds me of listening to Greg play Gouge Away on his acoustic guitar, back when he was living in a cabin in the woods in upstate New York.
Slack motherfucker – superchunk’s theme song, I guess. I saw them on the come pick me up tour and jumped around The Garage like a, well like a man who’d drunk too much beer, when they played this at the end. Larry Livermore bought me more beer. What a nice bloke.