Honourable mentions:
+ The iconic performance of Rock’n'Roll Suicide at Hammersmith Apollo, 1973
+ Five Years performed on the Old Grey Whistle Test 1972
+ I adore Slow Burn, such an underrated song from Heathen. Live 2002.
+ And “Heroes” always did sound better in the German version.

But it is lovely to see Denmark + fashion + knitting. It makes me feel proud (and very homesick) to see this video:

KAFFESLABBERAS // MADS AND ERNA (SUBTITLED) from Kaffeslabberas on Vimeo.

‘Kaffeslabberas’ is a knitting club in the Copenhagen neighbourhood of Amager. Its members are female pensioners, whose rich history and zest for life overshadows their advanced age. This project partners up these ladies with Danish artists and designers, with the intent of creating a connection across generations, through the strengths of craftmanship, diversity and experience.

I wish the subtitles were grammatically correct and the spelling was better, but we can’t have everything.

Thank you to Angela for pointing out the article and video.

My winter mitts? A fairly quick, uncomplicated knit. I used a pattern I found in The Knitting Book and yarn given to me by my mother. I have tiny hands, so went down a few needle sizes and I also added thumbs. The yarn matches a cowl and a hat I made earlier, so I’m all set for winter now. Bring it on.

I am spending today swatching for a future project/design. I played around with charts in Excel earlier and now I’m trying to figure out which texture I like best. It is always fun trying to strike a balance between my personal aesthetics, an imagined level of difficulty, and the actual purpose of the pattern.

I had a quick Twitter exchange with a few people after I came up with a true lace chart (i.e. lace knitted on both sides). I loved the idea of the pattern, but when I started to work it up in 4ply I knew it did not work in such a relatively heavy yarn. Twitterati consensus was that true lace is scary. I don’t think this is necessarily true, but I know that this is what many people feel. Honestly, this project is not one for ‘scary’ lace so that chart was shelved alongside many other charts. Hopefully I will find the right project for it at some point.

Meanwhile I have come up with another chart – or, rather, four different versions of the same chart. I am busy swatching trying to figure out which version works best. I’m using some leftover Old Maiden Aunt merino/silk for the swatches. I need more of this yarn, I really do. It’s beautiful to work with on my new Addi bamboo needles.

Finally, the soundtrack for work: I rediscovered this album this morning. The light is pale and thin. Like you. Has it really been 19 years?

I have a handful of go-to cakes – the classic pound cake, upside-down caramel & pear spiced cake, lemon & raspberry meringue, Danish ‘dream cake’, and (the latest addition) chocolate and beetroot cake – but am always interested in expanding my repertoire. My good friend Liz makes a stunning, but super-easy, ‘medieval’ apple tart as well as the best lemon drizzle cake I have ever tasted. I need to try making both of those cakes. I have also sampled a take on Nigella’s chocolate/guinness cake which I’d be interested in tweaking a tiny bit.

Here’s a recipe for one of my cakes. It is not vegan, it is not gluten-free, and it is not healthy – I’m not one of those bloggers (and I’m also not a food stylist as you can tell from the photo) – but it is really tasty.

Upside-down caramel & pear cake

60 g butter
100 g brown sugar (you can use either light or dark depending upon how you feel about strong flavours)
4 pears (or apples – you can use either)
—
125 g plain flour
½ tsp baking powder
2 tsp ground ginger
pinch of salt
pinch of ground cloves
pinch of grated nutmeg
pinch of ground cinnamon
75 g dark treacle (use honey or syrup if you don’t like strong flavours)
1 egg, beaten lightly
125 g brown sugar (you can use either light or dark depending upon how you feel about strong flavours)
60g butter
125 ml milk
—
butter for greasing the pan

Preheat oven to 175C/350F.

Prep the pears by pealing them, removing the grit and dividing them into quarters. Place them neatly in the greased cake tin. Melt sugar and butter in a saucepan. Watch the mixture closely as it’ll turn to sticky, HOT caramel and you don’t want to burn it (or yourself). Pour the caramel mixture on top of the pears.

Sift together the dry ingredients in a large bowl: flour, baking powder, salt and spices. Mix the wet ingredients in another bowl: beaten egg, treacle, sugar, butter, and milk. Combine the wet & dry ingredients and beat until the mixture is smooth.

Pour the battern on top of the pears and bake for approx 45 minutes. Test the centre of the cake with a knitting needle or other sharp, pointy implement. The needle should come out of the cake without anything sticking to it.

This cake is extra good the next day. I’d usually serve it with honey-laced Greek yoghurt or creme fraiche, but it is also very good on its own.

–
My baking soundtrack was courtesy of local indie pop band, Belle & Sebastian. If you ever wonder about my neighbourhood, go watch all their videos as they like to film them here in Glasgow’s West End. This one, Wrapped Up in Books, was filmed in Caledonia Books just down the road from me. I sometimes worry that my life has become one long Belle & Sebastian video: bookish, arty girl wearing retro clothes around the West End and looking a bit twee in her handknits. Hmmm… worse things could happen.

And so for my own pleasure (and indulgence), I decided to make my own Desert Island Disc iPod playlist. I added far more than eight records to my playlist, of course, but for your listening pleasure I shall stick to eight records (one per entry) and even add a few words.

I grew up in a very large family filled with people obsessed with (mostly American) pop culture circa 1940-1965. This recent Guardian article on so-called superfans rattled me because I had no idea that this sort of behaviour was in any way unusual. I grew up surrounded by pop culture memorabilia: big murals of Sinatra et al on the walls, concert tickets carefully curated, mountains of carefully sourced vinyls, autographs, signed photos, VHS tapes of 1940s musicals, and handwritten databases detailing when this or that song was recorded. What do you mean your childhood wasn’t like that?

Over dinner my uncles would toss out the first names of stars, as though they knew them personally: Frank, Dean, Bing .. Occasionally they did know the people they gossiped about. My dotty aunt T. briefly dated Gustav. My other dotty aunt A. semi-stalked Otto for four decades. Looking back, I can see that this approved pop culture was predominantly white pop culture. It was also two or three decades out of sync with contemporary pop culture.

My gran has always loved Fats Domino. I remember her playing Blueberry Hill, Ain’t That A Shame and I Hear You Knocking whenever my uncles weren’t around (“Fats is okay, but he’s no Frank, if you know what I mean” – oh, I can hear them). And for me Fats Domino is about happiness, about feeling loved and about a tiny glimpse of freedom: there is a world beyond my large, chaotic family and so many things to discover.

I am the product of my family, of course. I had a phase of obsessively hoarding bootlegs, travelling to foreign countries for concerts, subscribing to mailing lists and knowing the name of certain musicians’ dogs – but unlike my uncles it did not turn into a lifestyle. To this day, I have a thing for 1940s MGM musicals and I’m still on a first-name basis with Frank – but it is Fats Domino that I keep coming back to.

Excuse me while I pretend I constantly hang about grey wooden panels wearing a red woollen dress and a gawjus mossy green scarf/shawl. Okay, so I actually do that quite a bit but I rarely wear matching lipstick and have my photo taken whilst faffing, so there is that.

In short, we had a photo shoot for the Karise shawl yesterday. For some reason the sun came out just as I took off my cape and the sunshine just made everything so much easier. I am never comfortable in front of a camera (stand straight, suck in tummy, smile, look natural) but the photo shoot wasn’t too bad.

Everywhere you go, you always take the weather with you..

Hopefully that means tomorrow will be sunny too. I am heading out to West Kilbride to see Old Maiden Aunt’s Lilith and her new studio. Her housewarming is on Saturday but true to form I shall be working, so instead I am heading out to lend a hand prepping the place for the hordes. Some sunshine would be most welcome as my train will have a view of the Isle of Arran – and Arran is just prettier when it is sunny.

Oh, hell. Here you go. That song. I don’t actually like it, you know, but it is the sound of summer..

Yes, I was aware of the response to The Gentle Art of Domesticity but I did not think this response particularly relevant to The Gentle Art of Knitting. I could write a long and boring paragraph about how I read books (I’m one of those girls who went to university and lost her intellectual innocence to literary theory) but suffice to say that I tend to focus on the book itself rather than any outrage surrounding its author.

And so I approached this new Jane Brocket book as I would any other knitting book: did I think it useful? did I find the patterns interesting? did it inspire me? did it teach me anything new? I hope I answered those questions in my review.

Some linkage:
+ Women of the Vortex. MARVELLOUS pictorial evidence of daring lady painters of a young 20th century. I find Vorticism endlessly exciting. I wish I could go to Tate Britain and shout about machines, speed and modernist epistemology. BLAST!
+ A Knitted Garden. This totally made my morning when I first saw it.
+ Modern day Hollywood has nothing on the stars of the Big Studios years. Clark Gable & the Scandal That Wasn’t is an excellent read.
+ Speaking of entertaining reads, this review of “Rushed to The Altar” from Smart Bitches, Trashy Books had me howling with laughter. The review is definitely not for the faint-hearted and it is NSFW, but it is also hillarious.
+ It is a good thing I did not have my own webspace back in 1996, because I would definitely have set up an early prototype of My Daguerreotype Boyfriend.
+ Neil Patrick Harris’ opening number at this year’s Tony Awards = possibly the best 6 minutes of 2011 so far?

I have finished no less than three projects this week, so there will be plenty more knitting content over the next few days, but I’m also trying to work out a response to China Mieville’s Embassytown which does not involve me muttering about Martian poetry. Cross your fingers hard.

Other lovely things right now:

• I find this picture of David Tennant in the Fright Night remake strangely compelling. I always did have a weakness for almost-Glaswegian men wearing eyeliner.
• “Not since Bowie before him had anyone been as responsible for raising awkward questions between parents and their sons as Brett Anderson.” Suede is back in fashion here in the UK – so the media say. Suede fell hard from grace when fey, lithe men wearing girls’ shirts were displaced by laddish beer lout music (i.e. Oasis). I particularly liked the quote: “Apparently it wasn’t just me who’d been sat at home in 1995 doused in glitter and eyeliner watching Performance on repeat” .. oh no, dear journalist, oh no.
• I should rewatch Velvet Goldmine soon too.
• Moving on from eyeliner and glitter, how about a Warhol Spock? Okay, so it’s Leonard Nimoy wearing makeup but it’s slightly different..
• My beloved kiwi band The Phoenix Foundation is being championed by the mighty hipster godfather himself, Jarvis Cocker. Going Fishing is always on my iPod. Kiwi music is the best, honestly.

And with that, I am off to back my bag. Not-so-sunny Aberdeenshire awaits and I have books and knitting to pack.

The first semi-finale took place yesterday with the second one happening tomorrow and the finale is on Saturday. Here are some selected highlights:

• Armenia delivered an astonishingly bad, yet classic Eurovision performance in the first semi. It did not progress past the first stage. It was a bit of an upset for a nation that has done very well in recent years.
• Despite myself, I actually like Ireland’s song although it features the dreadful Jedward twins (to spare you googling, just watch this clip and weep for humanity). I feel dirty.
• Georgia was one of my personal favourites in the first semi-final which tells you a bit about the level of talent. It is not a classic year.
• Meanwhile Russia’s “Alex Sparrow” and Sweden’s Eric Saade are fighting it out for the Cute Twink Singing Club Anthem award. I actually prefer Saade’s 2010 effort which didn’t make it past national finals.
• Iceland has a very strong song with a big sob-story background. I expect this to do very, very, very well.
• Germany won last year. Unusually the winner has chosen to defend her title and she has opted for a seriously cool, dark little song. Go, go Germany! Israel has also sent a former winner. I don’t think Israel will do well this time around.
• Finally, my two “home countries” which are both doing well with the bookmakers. Blue’s “I Can” is the strongest UK entry for over a decade and this is the sort of stuff the UK should be entering every year*. Denmark’s also being hailed as a potential winner. I loved the song when Andreas Johnson sang it in the Swedish 2006 finals. Bad boy Denmark for ripping off a Swedish song.

(* I have heaps of ideas of who to represent the UK at the ESC. Alexandra Burke, Little Boots and The Saturdays would be fabulous if completely unlikely competitors.)

Just to finish off, some of my recent ESC favourites: Turkey 2008, Bosnia & Herzegovia 2008 (which included knitting ladies!), Romania 2006 and France 2007. For sheer WTF-ness, try Azerbaijan 2008. For cuddliness, try Norway 2009 (which won).

And Sweden 1983 which spawned a life-long Eurovision love.