William's first family 'party' was my brother's fortieth birthday lunch a week or so ago.
He met all his cousins and aunts and uncles and nieces. Yes, nieces.
My brother and his wife had cooked up a storm based around their magnificent obsession - the food of the subcontinent. There were curries of all kinds in wonderful combinations including a delicious okra and potato one. We crunched on pappadums. Everything was mild and chilli was available to add if required, along with yogurt, spicy chutneys, delicious pickles (lime, mango, lemon etc) and some crunchy salads. There a massive bowl of basmati rice, cooked with saffron and then flecked through with toasted coconut, coriander and all manner of exotic spices.
*
My brother's other obsession is Super 8 film-making, a skill he learnt from my father who chronicled our 1960s childhoods on little reels of flickering yellow celluloid. My brother started making science fiction films on Super 8 as an early teenager. The back shed was always full of painted sets and massive polystyrene space stations. He even managed to film a few explosions without blowing up the neighbourhood. Or even the house. These days, he quietly walks around filming family functions - no zooms, no pans, no tracking shots, no fancy work; he just lets the scene talk. Or not.
*
After dessert - a massive decorated cake - it was showtime.
My brother had digitised forty years of Super 8s and edited highlights of his life into a film entitled Forty Years of Me, complete with a period-style jazz track and subtitles such as Why was I always wearing dresses? Sure enough, there he was, a chubby three-year-old in 1968, dancing around the backyard wearing dress-ups with a beach bucket on his head. In twenty short minutes little bro' grew up before our eyes and finally it was his wedding day and the film ended with a freeze frame of him kissing his wife. Then the credits rolled, and the last line brought the house down: 'Thanks to mum and dad for being catholic and not stopping at five.'
My brother was No. 6.
He met all his cousins and aunts and uncles and nieces. Yes, nieces.
My brother and his wife had cooked up a storm based around their magnificent obsession - the food of the subcontinent. There were curries of all kinds in wonderful combinations including a delicious okra and potato one. We crunched on pappadums. Everything was mild and chilli was available to add if required, along with yogurt, spicy chutneys, delicious pickles (lime, mango, lemon etc) and some crunchy salads. There a massive bowl of basmati rice, cooked with saffron and then flecked through with toasted coconut, coriander and all manner of exotic spices.
*
My brother's other obsession is Super 8 film-making, a skill he learnt from my father who chronicled our 1960s childhoods on little reels of flickering yellow celluloid. My brother started making science fiction films on Super 8 as an early teenager. The back shed was always full of painted sets and massive polystyrene space stations. He even managed to film a few explosions without blowing up the neighbourhood. Or even the house. These days, he quietly walks around filming family functions - no zooms, no pans, no tracking shots, no fancy work; he just lets the scene talk. Or not.
*
After dessert - a massive decorated cake - it was showtime.
My brother had digitised forty years of Super 8s and edited highlights of his life into a film entitled Forty Years of Me, complete with a period-style jazz track and subtitles such as Why was I always wearing dresses? Sure enough, there he was, a chubby three-year-old in 1968, dancing around the backyard wearing dress-ups with a beach bucket on his head. In twenty short minutes little bro' grew up before our eyes and finally it was his wedding day and the film ended with a freeze frame of him kissing his wife. Then the credits rolled, and the last line brought the house down: 'Thanks to mum and dad for being catholic and not stopping at five.'
My brother was No. 6.
Comments
Post a Comment