The Maze of Cadiz, Paperback Now Available

The paperback of The Maze of Cadiz , official publication date 17th September, is now available on amazon.co.uk

You can read an extract from the book, and a Q&A on my website -

http://www.alymonroe.com/

Broad from Badsville

If you haven't come across Donna Moore's blog, dedicated to Scottish crime fiction, take a look. It's much more than that - entertaining and well written. Good fun. I like her tales of the 62 bus!
Here is the link:

http://bigbeatfrombadsville.blogspot.com/

Apart from her blog, Donna is the author of Go To Helena Handbasket and Old Dogs, due out in June 2010.

Audiobook of The Maze of Cadiz now available

The Audiobook of The Maze of Cadiz

read by Johnathan Keeble

is now available for purchase direct from

Isis Publishing

Cotton’s Tastes of Cadiz: Poor Man’s Lobster - or Gato por Liebre

I first ate monkfish in Cadiz over twenty years ago, long before it was a desirable dish in fine restaurants. At the time, this was not a typically ‘gaditano’ dish - the cook was actually from Asturias. The Spanish name for monkfish is rape (pronounced ‘rappay’) but it was popularly known as Langosta de Pobre - Poor Man’s Lobster.

This put me in mind of the Spanish picaresque tradition prevalent during the Golden Age of Spanish literature (sixteenth and early seventeenth century). The protagonists of these stories - the most famous of which are probably El Lazarillo de Tormes (anonymous) and El Buscón (Quevedo) - were from the lowest levels of a highly stratified and immobile society, and in order to survive or medrar (prosper), they had to resort to all kinds of ingenious subterfuge. An essential part of the education of the ‘picaro’ was to learn how to aparentar lo que no eres - in other words, to pass yourself off as something you are not, in order to gain access to people, places and possibilities otherwise barred to you.

A wealth of vocabulary and expressions remain in modern Spanish from this time - the verb aparentar with its connotations of pretending to be more than you are is frequently used. Another common expression - which I used in The Maze of Cadiz - is gato por liebre (literally, cat for hare) which originated in the tabernas serving up a dish of ‘hare which was actually cat. The expression now is commonly used to pass anything off as something else.

People no longer try to pass monkfish off as lobster - it is a recognized delicacy in its own right - and it is certainly not the food of the poor. This is how I first ate it in Spain, how I often cook it, and how Peter Cotton ate it in The Maze of Cadiz:


Monkfish with Mussels and Saffron

Ingredients:

• 1 kilo of monkfish tail cut into diagonal slices about an inch thick. Get your fishmonger to prepare this for you. When you are home, any grey membrane still covering the fish should be carefully removed before cooking.
• 1/2 kilo mussels (or clams)
• some good virgin olive oil
• 1 large clove of garlic
• 2 shallots/ a handful of spring onions (green stalks included)
• A little chopped green pepper (a small slice)
• A pinch of saffron (or turmeric if that is what you have at hand)
• A little flour
• some chopped flat leaf parsley
• freshly squeezed lemon juice
• Salt
• freshly ground black pepper
  
  Instructions:
• Scrub and de-beard the mussels. (If using clams, simply wash in a few changes of water). Leave to soak for a while in cold water with a squeeze of lemon juice.
• Lightly coat the monkfish in flour seasoned with a little salt and pepper.
• On a gentle heat, fry the chopped shallots/spring onions and chopped green pepper in a little olive oil until soft. Add the crushed garlic and cook very little more, taking care not to brown the garlic as it will go bitter. Then remove from the pan, drain and set aside.
• Gently fry the monkfish pieces until beginning to take on a golden colour. Depending on the quantity, fry a few pieces at a time, and reserve.
• Drain the oil from the pan and make sure there is no burnt residue that will make the sauce bitter. (If necessary, clean out the pan carefully with kitchen paper.)
• Return the monkfish to the pan with the onions etc. Add the saffron/ pinch of turmeric, a squeeze of lemon juice and a little water/ stock.
• Shake the pan and stir gently to allow the flour coating the monkfish to thicken the sauce slightly.
• Simmer gently, adding a little more water if necessary, for about ten minutes or until the fish is nearly cooked through.
• Add the mussels/clams and a little more water if necessary. Cover the pan and turn up the heat, shaking gently until the mussels/clams have opened. Then immediately turn off the heat. (Overcooking mussels and clams makes them go rubbery and lose flavour).
• Stir in the chopped flat leaf parsley and adjust seasoning if necessary.
  
  This is more filling than it looks. It can be served as it is for a first course or with fried potato slices added to the dish for a main, accompanied by a simple, dressed green salad.
  
  Today you will often find Brochetas de Rape (Monkfish Kebabs) served as a simple tapa or starter:
  

You will need:

• 1 Monkfish tail
• 2 Sprigs fresh thyme
• 12 - 14 slices of serrano ham

Method

• Take one monkfish tail and chop in half.
• Sprinkle the fresh thyme over the fish.
• Wrap the tail in strips of thinly sliced serrano ham and secure in place with cocktail sticks.
• Place under the grill for 8 - 10 minutes.
• Cut into medallions.
• Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil.

Serve with a fresh tomato salad.

Gothic Science

I am reading an excellent book called A Natural History of Seeing by Simon Ings. His website http://www.simonings.net/ is similarly amenable and wide-ranging and includes, for example his astute review of The Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale.

In Simon Ings's book - which is subtitled The Art & Science of Vision - there is, in Chapter Two, a delightful account of the fantastic combination of two nineteenth century inventions – photography and the ophthalmoscope - for fictional (and other) purposes.

It’s possible to read this section online – Simon Ings has a list of what he calls ‘eye-openers’ – and this one is called ‘The Tell-Tale Eye’.

I recommend it.

Linda Fairstein

I was delighted to have it drawn to my attention recently that Linda Fairstein, best-selling author of the Alex Cooper novels had mentioned in an interview that The Maze of Cadiz was the last book she had read:

http://www.mediabistro.com/articles/cache/a10569.asp

Apart from her lovely comment, this article makes fascinating reading for all those interested in this writer and her books. Particularly interesting is her advice on how writers can take an active role and use the web for spreading awareness of their work.

Linda’s own website is well worth a look. You can see a video of her in the New York Public Library, which provides the setting for her latest book, Lethal Legacy She also blogs regularly and generously on different writers she’s enjoyed.

Ratiocination and Other Horrors or The Art of Playing Ball.

At the recent Crimefest, I was surprised to hear an attack on Edgar Allan Poe for using a word like ‘ratiocination’. I was surprised, first because Poe died 160 years ago in 1849, and second because the poor man pioneered a genre without knowing it would come to be called ‘detective fiction’.

Undoubtedly Poe’s ‘Tales of Ratiocination’ would now be re-named by the marketing department. This is partly because the word is difficult to pronounce – “rashio-sin-ayshun” – and partly because its meaning – rational deduction – is not immediately and confidently recognized outside certain philosophy and literature departments.

Another example, just in time for Wimbledon, of a word that did not become popular is Sphairistike, the first name given to the sport by Major Walter Wingfield in 1874 when he drew up the rules of Lawn Tennis. I am not aware that the Major has been attacked for his desire to trace the game back to the Ancient Greek ‘art of playing ball’.

As it happens Poe rapidly lost interest in the genre. “These tales of ratiocination owe most of their popularity to being something in a new key. I do not mean to say that they are not ingenious – but people think they are more ingenious than they are on account of their method and air of method.”

It turns out that 'ratiocination' was indeed good marketing in the 1840’s. In effect, Poe was playing up that air of method by choosing a problematic word precisely to impress the reader with apparent science and the detective’s almost ‘inhuman’ powers of deduction.

Not our word choice today? Probably not. But just consider the sheer number of ‘human thinking machines’ that followed Poe, from Sherlock Holmes all the way to the current tv series that begins with a word and a definition – The Mentalist.

They were one reason we were all at Crimefest.