7 Reasons

Tag: fair

  • 7 Reasons To Wear A Traffic Cone On Your Head

    7 Reasons To Wear A Traffic Cone On Your Head

    This post needs no introduction, so I won’t write one. Apart from this bit obviously. Not that you needed to bother reading it. Right, on with the reasons.

    Duke Of Wellington With Cone by Mr Cumbo

    1.  Hideout. If you’ve just bottled someone in a nightclub by mistake, the chances are you are going to be beaten up and/or arrested unless you get out of there quickly. Your best option is to run to the nearest set of roadworks, pop a traffic cone on your head and crouch. You’ll blend in perfectly.

    2.  Pointers. If you are a really short teacher or an astronomer, you may find yourself needing to point upwards for long, extended periods. Anyone would struggle with this, which is why popping a cone on your head is the perfect solution. Not only will you be pointing up on a constant basis, you will also have two hands with which to haul yourself up onto the desk so those at the back of the class can see you. You can also pretend to be an alien. That could be fun.

    3.  Safety. In my youth I used to go out drinking with friends. More often than not one English Breakfast led to an Earl Grey and then an Assam. Of course under such circumstances I almost certainly missed the last bus home. That meant I had to walk. Living out of town meant walking along dark, country lanes. On more than one occasion was I caught like a rabbit in the headlights. If only I had thought, I could have popped a traffic cone on my head and I’d have been spotted miles off. Instead of my usual avoidance tactic which involved diving into the nearest hedge. Mind you, given the amount of tea I had had to drink, it proved a relief in more than one way.

    4.  Unblemished. Despite leaving my adolescence in the 1990s, I still find spots sprouting whenever they bloody well feel like it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the acne-ridden four-eyed geek I used to be, but waking up to discover a whitehead in the middle of your forehead isn’t exactly the best start to the day. Over the years my body became immune to all the spot relieving treatments I attacked it with, so these days I have to use a different tactic. Sometimes it’s a fringe, but when my hair is too short for that, it’s a traffic cone. It covers the blemish up beautifully.

    5.  Fun Of The Fair. Walk around any fairground with a traffic cone on your head and you will almost certainly collect dozens of hoops. It’s instinctive. See a cone, try and get your hoop over it. You may get the odd whack in the face for your trouble, but you will definitely pick up hoops. Then you can go to the stall of your choice, have twenty-five free goes at trying to win a cuddly toy or a goldfish in a Tesco bag and then start again. It’s a cheap day out which is particularly useful if you’re a a bit chavvy and have eight children to keep entertained.

    6.  On Loan. Given the amount of idiots who steal traffic cones and take them back to their halls of residence, is it really any wonder why road works take so long to complete? It’s health and safety. If there aren’t enough cones, you’re not allowed to dig. Which is why you should offer you cone wearing services to them. Just go up to them in their morning/afternoon/all-day tea break and say you’ll happily stand in the road for a few hours. Not only will you earn a little extra cash, they’ll even pop you on the back of the truck and give you a free lift home. Well, to the depot anyway.

    7.  Likeable. A favourite pastime of people all over the world – as demonstrated by the above photo – is putting a traffic cone on a statue’s head. Instantly the statue becomes far more interesting. More people stand and point and smile. More people take photos of it than they would if it was sans cone. So my advice to you is to live by this example. If you’re not naturally likeable, put a cone on your head.

  • Russian Roulette Sunday: It’s Cake!

    Russian Roulette Sunday: It’s Cake!

    Hello 7 Reasons readers!  It’s Marc here and today, dear readers, we would like you to make a cake.  This cake.

    It’s Oxfam’s Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake, the recipe for which comes from my local Oxfam Bookshop’s brilliant blog .  The recipe calls for the use of  Fairtrade Stem Ginger Cookies and, when you go to your nearest Oxfam shop to buy them, you’ll be giving money to a worthwhile cause.  That’s right readers, by making and eating an ethically sourced cheesecake (unless you buy mascarpone sourced from warmongering cheesemongers) you’ll be helping a good cause in an ethical way.  In fact, if we can all make and eat enough cheesecake, we can probably save the world, and I’ll be trying very hard.  Here’s the achingly simple recipe as published by Oxfam Books, Petergate York:

     

    Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake

    • Serves 4
    • Prep time: 15 min
    • Chilling time: 30 min
    • Basically, in 45 minutes you’re in business.

    Ingredients

    • 200g pack of Fairtrade stem ginger cookies, crushed
    • 50g butter, melted
    • 500g mascarpone cheese (they usually come in 250g tubs, so get two of these)
    • 40g icing sugar, sifted
    • Finely grated zest and juice of two limes

    Method

    1.  Mix together the crushed biscuits and melted butter (I also like to add a bit of sugar to my cheesecake bases to make them a bit jazzier) and press into the bottom of an 18cm (7inch) spring-sided or loose-bottomed cake tin.

    2.  Place the mascarpone cheese, icing sugar, lime zest and juice in a bowl and beat together. Spread this mixture over the biscuit base.

    3.  Put it in the fridge and chill for 30 min! That’s really it.

    That’s the entire recipe.  It’s basically spreading cheese on biscuits and it’s so simple that absolutelyanyone should be able to make it.   And now we’re going to demonstrate that even people with no food preparation skills, knowledge or aptitude can follow this recipe.  I’m going to hand you over to my writing partner: A man whose culinary education began and ended with learning how to boil water for tea:  A man who – before he moved to Kent – was known as The Fulham Poisoner: A man whose litany of culinary disasters includes failing at defrosting a chicken and the hospitalisation of a flatmate*.  He’s going to make a cheesecake himself and feed it to his fiancé Claire – a renowned and accomplished maker of cakes – who will judge it on appearance, texture and taste (should she survive).  Here’s Jon.

    “It was only when I was standing in the queue that I realised I had been well and truly duped. The idea of making a cheesecake and then eating it had originally sounded like a good idea, which is why I had agreed. Marc had, after all, said all it required was a spare half hour. In my book, that’s a fair exchange for cake. But as I stood there I realised it had already been twenty-five since I had left home and I hadn’t even purchased the ingredients. There was no way I could make a cheesecake in five minutes. Not there. And then I got to the till. Which is when I realised this idea was also going to cost me money. Just short of £5 in fact. That’s a lot to spend just to have something to write about. I couldn’t help but think if I had managed the past year and a half writing without having to pay for the privilege, why did this have to change? I trudged home.

    Having spread the ingredients in front of me and read the recipe, I realised this was the exact same cheesecake that Claire makes. And she makes it very well. Brilliant. So I’ve had to walk all the way the shops, spend the best part of a fiver on ingredients and now I am challenging my future wife by making one of her specialities. Perturbed, I carried on. Twenty minutes later I was left staring at the following creation:

    Making it was something of a doddle. What was not a doddle was the washing up. I don’t know how often you zest a lime, but cleaning the zesting part of the grater is quite possibly a harder job than watching England play cricket. Still, an hour later I was done. I also had lime poisoning from licking the bowl.

    The next part of this project – and that is very much what it had become – was to get Claire to profer her opinion. These are the results of the Claire survey.

    On Appearance: “That looks nice.”

    On Texture: “It’s nice.”

    On Taste: “That was very nice”.

    So there we have it. I make nice cheesecakes. I am sure your Sunday just got a whole lot better with that news.”

    *Which he denies.**

    **Falsely.

    ***As Oxfam Books, Petergate York would (and actually did) tell you themselves, remember the whole point of this recipe is that it is a Fairtrade recipe.  So help the global community during this Fairtrade Fortnight (and after) by buying Fairtrade goods as much as you can.

    the fairtrade fortnight logo