Peacemaker chipotle sauce

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Listen to

The shimmering light bounces off the road, blending car bodies into a swirling mirage. A demented Kaleidoscope of trunks and hubcaps, glittering, chrome trim and shocking electric mirror light. Reflections dance like lasers piercing the sky. We are inching forwards. 2.54 cm in the new money. Its trudging slow and the snaking traffic reaches out to the horizon. We are going no place fast. Its baking hot holiday sun cracking the roof paint and searing my optical nerves blind. The car is heavy loaded with people and their stuff. We could be sinking into the road like a melting black river of tar and cars. Who will ever know? “Hey!”, “We’re moving, look!”, says a voice from the backseat. We creep another 3.28984 feet forward; that’s 1 metre in the new money. Klunch!! Oonfp! And dead stop. R*******!!, P*****!!!, What the Hell!?

The driver in front gets out with a face raging thunder. He’s red fit to burst and sweating. I can see his lips moving but can’t hear a word. Windows are tight shut for the A/C. I open the door. The furnace heat blasts in. I must have connected fender to fender (or bumper to bumper for UK readers) It’s a fender bender folks. Time to check the damage. He’s shouting now and closing on me fast. Time to look concerned. It was my fault, right? “Hey, sorry about that. Lets have a look, okay?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing, nada, not a scratch. We stand there, hands on hips, macho rulers of the ribbon of road that hopefully leads to holiday Shangri-la. Doing what tough men do – facing off over some insult to another man’s motor vehicle.

The world could end right now. An apocalyptic war of words with fists punching the sky is only seconds away. Only now, there is silent space between us. Nothing to complain about. Nothing to apologise for. Moon faces peer from air-conditioned windows at this roadside spectacle. A gladiator show. Some action, distraction.

“Hey mate”, “I’m packing some fresh made spicy tomato sauce in the car – home made fresh this morning. Big juicy flavour made with chipotle pepper guaranteed to make anyone’s day a better place. Great for burgers or roasted potatoes, fish, chicken, veggies – almost anything. Will ya take a bottle as my apology? And no harm done”

Relief breaks across his face. We don’t have to bear bait or hog trap or fisticuffs the moment. The sky will not fall or the planet break in two. Spicy tomato sauce gives us another way out. “Well,,,, yeah, sure, okay, that’ll be nice”, he says.
The deal is done.

Good job I made loads. The crew loves it.

This glorious spicy sauce is fast and easy to make…

Ingredients:

  • 1 soupspoon of olive oil
  • 2 pieces of garlic
  • 1 small onion
  • 2 sticks of celery
  • 1 teaspoon of ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon of ground chipotle pepper (half a teaspoon if you prefer less heat)
  • 1 teaspoon of salt
  • Half a cup of tomato paste
  • 1 cup of tomato frito – or canned tomato soup

peacemaker chipotle sauce

peacemaker chipotle sauce

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Into a medium size skillet or normal cooking pot add…

peacemaker chipotle sauce

The olive oil, and let it heat on medium fire.

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Then the chopped garlic, onion, celery, cumin, chipotle powder and salt.

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Let that all sweat for 5 minutes and then add the tomato frito – or canned tomato soup  – and the tomato paste.

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Cook slow for another 5 minutes stirring with your favourite drum stick 
– then rough blend.

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Ready to serve!

peacemaker chipotle sauce

Good on all food and – absolutely any kind of hot potato.
Try this on roasties and restore peace to the universe. Soon.

tex mex red chicken

tex mex red chicken

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They call it the graveyard shift or gravy for short. All-nighter at the studio. It’s the cheapest time on the clock. Midnight to 8 in the morning. Just me, the engineer and the click track hour after hour. It can make you crazy. The drum machine playback in the headphones. Like getting boxed in the ears 120, 140, 165 beats per minute. I’m humanising. What’s that? Well, its when they need a human to play percussion over a machine drum line to give it some life. Been giving life all night and now I’m dead. Beating on the kit till my arms fall off and my heads been jack hammered to mush. I’m punchy, I feel drunk. I don’t see straight.
I’m starving hungry too.

The over-bright fluorescent tube lights in the store burn into my head after the cave-like gloom of the recording booth. I’m staggering under the weight of my cymbal bag, percussion box and snare case. Yeah! Thinking maybe my mum was right when she sent me for violin lessons when I was 5 years old.

Wow!, they’ve got everything in here, but what do I want? I grab some red chillies, limes, cilantro and a pack of fresh chicken breasts. I’ve got cooked rice and beans in the fridge at home. Got onions, garlic and olive oil too. Just need a can of those lovely little cherry tomatoes. I bend down to reach them off the bottom shelf then stand up too quickly. The aisle bends and warps. Sudden white noise hissing in my ears. My eyes flicker out of focus and the floor rushes up to meet my teeth. A cascade of cans rains down, clattering and chasing each other across the floor. They sound like wind chimes in a thunderstorm on race day. Vague shapes move and mumble, far away I’m sinking. [Read more…]

classical gazpacho

classical gazpacho

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Its not the first time its happened. They’ve been here before. I just didn’t expect them to arrive with such a raging hunger this time. Good job we made some earlier.

I forgot to bring my magic carpet. Every drummer has one. Set-up your drums on it so they don’t slide across the floor. My bass drum is skidding about on the tile floor of this garage. Every time I hit the pedal it slides further away from me until my stretched out leg is playing it on tip toes. Time for the duct tape and some string.

My thundertone-earthquake bass playing brother Al#B is tuning up causing dogs to howl and birds to fall out of trees a half mile away. No car in the garage and it sounds really boomy in here. We’re just warming up and I already feel sorry the neighbours. The tin roof flexes from the sub-bass pressure from his amp. The doors rattle and buzz threatening to pop the hinges and fly into the street. We like it loud.

Just bass and drums today kicking around some grooves, making a load of hideous shrieking, crashing-row that sounds like the demolition of a multi-story car park, all falling rubble and twisted re-bar. Turn it up some more and start beating on those tubs. 20 minutes of non-stop frenzy and my eyeballs are trying to escape my skull and Al’s sub-bass is making it hard to see or breath.

Then the ground starts to shake. Wait a minute. CrashHHhAzzzxxK! [Read more…]

easy poulet in a pot

easy chicken

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It was on a windy day. When I say windy, I mean it was blowing a hurricane. Leaves blown like confetti mix with flying trash in a display of dancing candy wrappers, bus tickets and beer cans all tumbling and scatter and sent flying again with every thrusting whoosh of wind. Children stagger drunk pressing their faces forward. Hands clamped on hat and scarf. Making the slow way home into the solid air. I’m enjoying this show from behind closed windows. I can see the glass flex in the frame as each gust slams hard and there’s a howling somewhere like a scalded wolf. It’s getting worse. Here comes the rain now driving low and horizontal. Almost not reaching the ground. So where is the cat? [Read more…]

Heat breaker Gazpacho

Heat breaker

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Here we are in the early days of Spring and my thoughts wander to daydreams of the impending flesh-frying heat of summer in Barcelona, where I live. A city by the sea, the summer air sweats like a sauna and fuses to the arcing white-hot radiance from that burning fireball in the sky. You move. You sweat. Stand still too long and the sidewalk grills the soles of your feet. Keep your shirt on, you’ll bake to a crispy corpse. Take it off and the meat is cooked on the bone. Just add sun tan oil and a few herbs and serve yourself up as medium well done. Most of tourists from the North are wearing that pinky red scorched skin look and it looks like a whole lot of hurt.
It gets hot here. I’m telling ya. [Read more…]

jewel in the crown fruit salad

Jewel in the crown

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We were crammed into a route that snaked through the narrow claustrophobic streets near the old Born market, a once notorious barrio of south central Barcelona. It was Halloween and freezing cold and I was breathing flames and playing djembe with a mixed street circus group of Basque and Catalan crazies seriously set on intimidating the innocent pedestrians with shrieks, booming drums, clanging bells and heavy duty playback all with fireworks and flames and hardly room to turn round and not burn off someone’s eyelashes. It getting too packed with people, I’m thinking, and each time I spew a ball of fire to the heavens, I’m blowing more directly up each time directly above my own face for fear of barbequing the back of somebody’s head. [Read more…]