John Torode's wig, more on stench pipes and is it cricket?

Now that I've mentioned stench pipes we're seeing them everywhere. Vaguely linked to the subject I am currently enthralled by my new book "The Big Necessity: Adventures in the world of human waste" by Rose George.

This is the last taboo subject, according to George, and her meticulously researched book challenges our assumption that decent sanitation is our right, whereas in many parts of the world it is still a privilege.

Does he wear a wig?


As I've mentioned before, Google searchers for Masterchef judge John Torode often end up here because I wrote about him many months ago. I notice that Google is still delivering but this time people are searching for "does John Torode wear a wig?"

Meanwhile Carol McGiffin (Loose Women) still delivers hits, both for her bare bottom and more recently for her engagement ring. Someone searching for "the biggest human bare bottom" also found themselves at my site and was probably sorely disappointed. No bare bottoms here.

It's not Cricket

It's not on that the England cricket team plays in Wales and the Welsh national anthem gets played. I guess it was inappropriate to play the British anthem, so in my view the match should have stayed in Old Trafford.

Carol McGiffin's bare bottom

The traffic stats for this blog make amusing reading in terms of the search words that sometimes bring visitors here.

Some poor schmuck arrived after a hopeful search for Miss McGiffin's bare bottom. I once wrote about how she would make a great dinner party guest. It seems she has a tantalizing effect on the male. Many seekers of "Carol McGiffin naked" have also found their way to these pages.

I was sharing some search word secrets recently with Bill Blunt on the tags that really pull in the visitors. Real crowd pleasers. For me it's Elizabeth Hurley's Indian wedding and John Torode. Check out Bill's blog where he shamelessly featured both of them in a most amusing post.

Torode doesn't seem to have a website of his own so hapless searchers find themselves looking at my scathing review of his restaurant, Smiths at Smithfield. As for Hurley, I remember writing about the overkill nature of her nuptials but wasn't expecting it to be such a rich source of page views. My prediction for Hurley is that she and Arun will probably not be together this time next year. Then I shall write about Liz Hurley's Indian divorce.

As for Torode, he was eclipsed somewhat on the recent Masterchef "professional cooks" variation where Michel Roux Jnr joined the "ingredients expert" (grocer) Gregg Wallace. Torode does a good line in smacking his chops and nodding but Roux was more knowledgeable about the technicalities. So I predict Torode may be spending more time in the kitchen.

Other search words that continue to deliver are: Sharon Maiden (who featured in the seminal comedy "Clockwise," and is often Googled by people who've seen the film and wonder what happened to her); single men with cats (as if it's a nasty illness), bottle stalls, and the world's largest horse circa 1968. Whose name still escapes me. If only I could get the answer.

It's a bit depressing really. Hardly Goethe is it? For eternity my blog ramblings will be posted, espousing on such superficialities as the Eurovision song contest, single men with cats and conundrums like why do teapots always leak. Actually I've never written on the latter but it does trouble me, so perhaps this is my next topic de jour.

Dear blog: you are boring me

Dear Curious Girl blog
I'm afraid to say that you and I am no longer mutually compatible. You are starting to bore me. I seem to come over all disgusted of Tunbridge Wells whenever I start writing, leading someone to ask recently "do you still write that right-wing ranting blog?" I was shocked, because right wing is something I am not.

Looking at the blog traffic on Site Meter and Icerocket, I mainly get hits from people looking for chef / broadcaster John Torode, Elizabeth Hurley's jaw dropping wedding or Carol McGiffin "with no clothes on" (really!) I can count on a handful of faithful readers, Lucy and Mark T and a Methodist minister among them.

The only time this blog really rocks is when I'm covering the Eurovision Song Contest and Strictly Come Dancing.

So, dear blog, I think I will put you into hibernation and only wake you up when it's time for those particular topics. (Not long now for Eurovision - the UK will soon be making its usual hash of choosing the UK entry!).

Meanwhile, I'm putting a lot of more energy into my crafting blog, where the traffic is growing nicely, and my secret girlie blog which I don't promote (if you don't know the URL, I'm not telling you so it'll test your web search powers!).

See you in Serbia if not before, groovers!

Disappointing flavours from John Torode

I was very impressed with Australian chef John Torode and his expertise on the recent Masterchef series so I decided to hot foot it round to his restaurant, Smiths of Smithfield, in London's Faringdon.

As a judge on the programme, Torode frequently made comments about dishes not having the right flavours or being seasoned properly, so I reasoned that my taste buds were in for a gastronomic treat. I must say, I get a bit irritated when he constantly berates contestants for not putting enough salt in their food. Isn't he aware of the guidelines regarding salt? Personally I never add salt to my food and I don't like the taste when restaurants have overdone it. Anyway - back to the review.

Smiths of Smithfield is opposite the famous meat market and has four floors all with a different dining experience. We went for the top floor which is the serious restaurant. Offering wonderful views over London it had a great vibe and was packed out (as were all the other floors).

The menu is refreshingly non-pretentious; none of those ridiculous trios, timbales or anything else plagiarised from French menus. Torode specialises in sourcing the best in ingredients and the menu faithfully records the provenance of the fish and beef.

Dorset crab on toast was a disappointing starter. The crab had very little flavour; it didn't even taste very strongly of crab, and the toast was so hard that slicing into it made a piece ping across the table. An inauspicious start. My companion had smoked eel which had a good texture and subtle flavour.

Next up was Hereford sirloin which came with the vegetable of the day, courgettes (a strange choice, as this is the one vegetable that can be counted on to be dull dull dull) and large square shaped chips.

The chips were divine, the courgettes were, well, dull, and the steak was erring towards medium rather than the rare I asked for. For £28 I expected a melting texture and a most memorable steak, but it was very similar to the old cow "aged 21 days" sold in Sainsbury's. It wasn't the best steak I've ever had - that was in an obscure pub in Dublin.

Finally, rum and raison bruelee had a pleasingly crunchy top and a crisp, light shortbread biscuit, but the rum flavour was non existent. What was left was a pleasant enough rich gloop, but disappointing when you were expecting some wonderful flavours which weren't delivered.

So in summary I'd say that Smiths at Smithfield has a great vibe but on the top floor it doesn't deliver the fine dining experience that it promises. More work needed on the flavours and the seasonings, Mr Torode.