Wednesday, May 14, 2025
Blog Page 1191

"Inferno" at the Randolph

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At least nine fire engines, an ambulance, police cars, and a helicopter have been called to extinguish a fire at the five-star Randolph Hotel in Oxford, sending smoke across the city.

The causes of the fire are unknown, but according to the Oxford Playhouse’s Twitter account, it has been successfully contained. People in the Ashmolean Museum have been told to remain where they are, and hotel guests have been evacuated. Surrounding streets have been cordoned off and bus routes diverted.

A source at the scene has told Cherwell that members of the fire service have been spotted entering the building wearing masks and air tanks.

According to a guest, the fire is believed to have started in the kitchens, and the hotel’s front desk is believed to have initially told a guest that the fire alarm was malfunctioning, until they became aware of smoke in the building.

She told Cherwell, “I didn’t think much of it, I figured it’d resolve but within a few minutes it was persistent and then I started smelling smoke.

“There are these stained glass windows you can see if you’re running down the stairs, beautiful old stained glass windows…it was just all aflame; all the windows, floor to ceiling. Right behind the windows, it was a raging flame.”

A spokesperson  for the hotel stated, “We can confirm that all guests and staff have been evacuated safely from the Macdonald Randolph Hotel following a fire. The Police and Fire Service are currently at the site and we are working closely with them to deal with the incident.  Our focus is on the safety of our guests and our team, and to support the emergency services.”

The evil and lies of the right-wing tabloid press

Over the holidays the English Defence League organised a march in Oxford protesting against “Muslim grooming gangs”. In the same week Katie Hopkins attacked Rochdale MP Simon Danczuk for posting a photo of himself at a Pakistani flag raising ceremony, tweeting, “Your Pakistani friends saw young white girls as fair game when they abused them.” Both cases reflect the discourse and lexis of the vitriolic right-wing tabloid press, where through constant focus on “Asian sex gangs” the implicit assertion is made that sexual abuse of children is a problem indicative of ‘Asian cultures’ and not what papers like the Daily Mail would term ‘traditional British culture’.

What makes this so insidious is how the mid-to-far right tabloid papers are attempting to use the exploitation of children as a tool to create fear and hate of minority groups by developing false, racist narratives. Underlying these attacks is an incredible failure to recognise that the problems they cite are universal. While the recent cases of Rochdale and Oxford are horrific, sexual abuse of children takes place around the world and is perpetrated by people of all cultures and ethnicities. This is just as true of white men born in England as of people born in other countries or of different races.

I saw this for myself last summer. Sitting in a bar on a beautiful Cambodian beach at sunset it would be easy to describe the scene as idyllic. However, the feeling was anything but. In the next bar along a group of loud, English men were surrounded by a larger group of small Cambodian women (most didn’t yet look adults). Sitting long enough to finish my drink it became fairly clear that the English guys were probably going to end up sleeping with some of these (very) young sex workers.

Pattaya, a city on the Thai coast, receives around 1.5 million Western visitors; famous for its sex industry the Thai government estimates a large minority travel to the city for that reason. The sex tourism industry, born when US soldiers left a demand vacuum behind after the Vietnam War, is booming. And with totally unregulated prostitution in very poor countries comes abuse.

This is acutely relevant to the discussion of child abuse because it is thought that one third of prostitutes in Cambodia and over one in six Thai prostitutes are children. The demand for pre-adolescents has been highlighted in cross-national surveys in which 38 percent of women and girls in the industry reported that they had entered it when their virginity had been bought. The result of this demand is that there are now estimated to be over 40,000 child prostitutes in the region, thousands of whom have been illegally trafficked away from their homes to touristy areas.

Although it is true that the demand is not purely Western, it is the money of Westerners which makes the industry so profitable and hence so hard to shut down. While in most cases the grooming is done by those born in these countries, the fact remains that some travel each year to abuse children in the region.

The crimes committed by British tourists in South East Asia demonstrate how the problem of sexual exploitation of children is one which cannot be accurately depicted as one peculiar ‘Asian groups’ and not to the Mail’s conception of traditional British groups. In a desperate attempt to stigmatize non-white communities the mid-to-far right reveals its total disregard for reality in their assertions that sexual predation in the UK has foundations in culture or ethnicity. As a result, it seems clear that it is quite simply lies when we read that with greater immigration these problems will be further introduced into our society, because quite clearly they are already here. 

The right answer, the wrong question

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“People think campaigns are about two competing answers to the same question. They’re not. They’re a fight over the question itself”. Whilst expressed by the fictional Josh Lyman in ‘The West Wing’, this maxim has constituted the foundation of both the Labour and Tory strategic outlook in this election so far. That is, until this week.

In the months running up to the General Election, and indeed into the Election itself, both parties pursued contrasting strategies which were identical in their conception; to ensure that the election campaign was constructed around certain issues, framed in a particular discourse, so that it would be impossible for the opposing party to ever evenly compete. For the Conservatives, this meant focussing on areas where they consistently polled higher than Labour: trust in running the economy, cutting the deficit and delivering the promised ‘Long Term Economic Plan’. For Labour, it meant re-framing the entire debate into one where the marker of economic success was not in the structural growth of the economy at a macro level, but a tangible improvement in the lives of ordinary people. And in this area- of bettering living standards and improving people’s personal prospects- they consistently rate higher than the Tories. 

The campaigns have been unsettled by the growing spectre of the SNP across the border in the case of Labour, and for the Conservatives, the inability to reduce the share of the UKIP vote to below 10%, thereby punishing them in vital swing seats. But leaving these problems aside, one of the key reasons why both parties have firmly consolidated around 33-35% of the vote, yet have been unable to make sufficient breakthroughs out of this margin, is precisely because of their campaign strategies.

The Conservatives have done enough to convince a portion of the electorate that they are the party of economic competency and fiscal discipline, yet have still been unable to convince enough voters that, if elected for a second term, they can deliver on raising living standards. Similarly, Labour have done enough to persuade a section of voters that they are the party that understands their concerns over the cost of living, the NHS and delivering a fairer society, yet have still been unable to convince enough people that they have a credible plan for delivering fiscal discipline.

Each party has fortified its core support by appealing with very distinct messages, yet has failed to make the necessary inroads with voters whose priorities differ from their own. Such distinct political messages are only useful insofar as they can deliver a parliamentary majority in the ‘First Past the Post’ electoral system. With the Conservative vote fragmenting in England, and Labour joining the Tories on the funeral pyre of political parties in Scotland, it simply isn’t enough to sure up a core vote that cannot deliver an electoral victory.

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It is this realisation that has made this week, with the release of the Party manifestos, so interresting. For the Conservatives this move could be potentially decisive in delivering their campaign director’s (Lynton Crosby) long-promised ‘cross-over’ period, where the polls will finally give momentum to the Tories. Up until this point in the election, both parties have largely stuck to their original campaigning strategy. Labour have continued to argue how they will deliver better living standards and create a fairer society, by focussing on their policies to abolish “exploitative” zero- hour contracts, raising the minimum wage and abolishing the  ‘Non-Dom’ tax status for British residents.

The Conservatives, meanwhile, have focussed on continued economic success (delivered by none other than that ever so helpful ‘Long Term Economic Plan’) such as the fall in unemployment and the rate of economic growth. This has been complemented by gimmicks such as the newspaper letter, signed by over 100 business leaders in support for their economic policy and the startling (albeit totally misleading) revelation that Labour would raise taxes on ordinary families by up to three thousand pounds. Both campaigns have simply established that each party is strong on their respective issues, but has done little to shift the momentum either way.

However, this could all very well change within the next few days. Labour’s manifesto was anchored in their primary cause to appear fiscally responsible; shown in their promise to balance the current budget and having a “triple lock” on their spending plans, thereby ensuring that they do not make a single unfunded spending commitment. The pinnacle, perhaps, of Labour’s new fiscally responsible tone is Ed Milibands’ personal pledge, on the front cover of the ‘The Mirror’, to commit to no extra borrowing in the next Parliament. The Tories, conversely, focussed on delivering a “good life” to the people of Britain. Emphasising not their plans for fiscal control, but rather a huge set of financial commitments- including an extra 8 billion pounds of funding for the NHS, legislation to take people who work 30 hours a week on the minimum wage out of tax, and pledging to provide 30 hours of free childcare a week. Labour is presenting themselves as a party of fiscal responsibility and the Conservatives as one that can deliver higher living standards. Perhaps this reversal in message and tone is best encapsulated in the sight of Ed Balls openly criticising George Osborne for failing to come clean on his fiscal commitment to spend more money on the NHS.

Will these new strategies work? Perhaps. There is, however, a huge amount of credibility on the line should it fail.

Bleat Dark Blue

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It would seem that both the Cambridge crews and goats are a little confused. The title Oxford and Cambridge B(g)oat races is a little misleading, but Cherwell would like to stress for our Cambridge friends that this does not mean you have to finish in that order…

Once the distraction of some little rowing races was out of the way, crowds descended on Spitalfields City Farm for the great Varsity event of the year; the Goat Race. Not to distract from the main event, the costume competition and edible trophy competition for the crowds hungry for Varsity action. For those of a more monetary disposition, the official bookie was on hand to aid in the parting of many a student loan.

Now in its seventh year, the Goat Race continues to draw the attention away from its watery rivals, though, due to the general diva-esque tendencies of the competitors, the race was scheduled to be run sometime between 14:00 and 17:00. Last year, the race was composed of three runners; Oxford, And, Cambridge, with And taking home the trophy. This year, the goat in Dark Blue was looking to regain the prize from its conjunction rival.

As with all Boat Races, Cambridge just weren’t in it from the start. The representative from Oxford stormed to victory, maintaining the pride and reputation of the clearly better University. Unfortunately, the winning Oxford goat was unable to partake in the #BleedDarkBlue competition, due to anatomy problems and a Kayne-sized ego.

It was a great event, which raised over £14,000 for Spitalfields City Farm, and a fitting end to a weekend of Dark Blue domination.

Goat > Boat 

 

#DarkBlueSelfie

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Cherwell hit the Boat Race in search of willing selfie participants…we found them. Here are the best, enjoy!

 

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#DarkBlueSelfie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Review: The Whitworth Gallery

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In Manchester’s typically contrarian fashion, one of the city’s great cultural institutions is not where you would expect it. Its not in the busy commercial center, its not even in the famed vinyl valleys of the trendy northern quarter. But a 20-minute bus ride down the Oxford road, will take you to the fag-packet and heroine needle strewn Whitworth Park. What you’ll find there is not a few mangy benches and the friendly local drug dealer, but an eccentric neo gothic edifice combining baroque flamboyance and gothic solemnity to house a stunningly renovated art gallery.
Founded in 1889, the Whitworth was one of a number of aspirational projects designed to widen access to the arts. In its subsequent history it has amassed some notable works having spotted the then unknown Hockney and Gilbert and George. The recent renovation completed this February (to the tune of £15 million) has transformed the space from a regionally notable gallery to a nationally competitive exhibition space.
Going round the gallery, two things strike you. The first is just what an excellent job has been done. The Scandinavian layouts have been given a new lease of life by letting in more natural light, creating open expansive spaces that play well to the elegantly refitted interiors of brushed wood and bronze. It’s a wonderful experience to go round for the first time .The second thing that strikes you is the fact the building and its renovation seem to almost outdo the work it is designed to house.
Manchester is a city whose cultural output is of deservedly international standing, but its art scene has not quite caught up. The Royal Exchange playhouse can compete with London and the music scene needs no explanation. But in art there’s not much of a legacy beyond Lowry that the city can capitalize on. As such, the gallery is filled with bland and slightly mediocre work.
A case in point in the current exhibition dedicated to Cornelia Parker.  Conceptual art can work, but usually as an example of what was once groundbreaking forty years ago. There is only x number of times that one can present the urinal or the tomato can and it remain relevant and or significant. In the same way, the first conceptualists of course deserve recognition in the same way Duchamp or Warhol did. But every subsequent repetition of the same trick seems to me progressively more tired and uncreative. Cornelia Parker’s work is one such repetition of what made the conceptualists interesting forty years ago: deconstruction, inter-textuality, gender politics etc. Although much of it is good, its just not that interesting after so much of what she’s is doing has already been done, and arguably better.
The lacklustre content is perhaps not a problem with the gallery, but a problem with the London centric distribution of the UK’s many masterpieces. For this reason it’s a real tribute to the curators that they secured a temporary exhibition of the prolific Cai Guo-Qiang. Perhaps the most ambitiously theatrical performance and installation artist working today, you might know Guo-Qiang from the exuberant visual effects at the 2008 Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. At the Whitworth one of his so-called gunpowder paintings is currently exhibited. He produces these by laying out monumentally sized canvases painted with gunpowder. He then (quite casually) ignites these in order to produce an exploded outline of the original drawing. The paintings evoke the ethereal lines of Chinese landscape brush painting. It is thus ironic and perhaps highly political that these scenes of  tranquility should be produced by such violent, almost industrial means. This was for me the stand out piece at the gallery.
Beyond this and the conceptualism, the gallery has found ingenious (yet frustrating ways) of displaying its notable works. One of the old tricks is to mix the prolific works with less prolific works to suggest that everything that surrounds the prolific stuff is of the same calibre as the less well known stuff. The other and more annoying trick is to refuse to label the works so as to again deny us the superficial pleasures of hunting out the famous names amidst the sea of not so famous names. All very sanctimonious stuff, but ultimately designed to hide the fact there just isn’t very much notable work. Its as if they’re saying, “just because we don’t have any Rembrandt’s , doesn’t mean we’re not as good as Tate”. Fair, but perhaps a bit naïve.
All in all, the renovation is another cultural feather in Manchester’s increasingly plumaged cap. While the permanent collection is good but not as outstanding as the setting, the appearance of a heavyweight like Guo Qiang promises much for the future.

10 things to get excited about in Trinity

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When it comes to Trinity term, an air of positivity seems to embrace Oxford students. Perhaps this is the inevitable effect of the sun, which, given the dire state of the British weather, is enough to boost anyone’s mood. Yet there’s nothing quite like seeing those spiralling towers placed against a bright blue sky or watching people stroll down Cornmarket in shades, shorts and not much else. Or perhaps the optimism lies in the fact that one has (almost) made it through the academic year and has a 10+ week vacation to look forward to.

Of course, if you are a finalist, Trinity term is probably less up-beat. Sadly, for nearly all subjects the exams are placed just at that time of the year where the last place you want to be is sat inside revising. (Note the contrast to winter, where the college library becomes a strange and unexpected haven from the bitter outdoors).

However, if you’re not a finalist, Trinity term is definitely one of the best. My choice to do an obscure English course actually means that – unlike most other second year English students – I have some lovely coursework on the horizon this term. But is the beck and call of linguistic hermeneutics going to stop me making the most of the summer term? Hell no! I’ve already started thinking about what lies ahead – here are just some of the things to watch out for this Trinity.  

  1. PCBC Pimms Party. 25th April. Eagerly anticipated and with a Facebook attendance of 1.3K, this lazy afternoon on Pembroke Quad is the perfect way to start off summer.
  2. May Day 30th April. If you’re hardcore, this tradition requires you to go out clubbing till the early hours so you can be met by the sweet sound of Magdalen choir singing at 6am. Bleary eyed with a banging headache, what better way to start the month? This is one tradition not to be missed.
  3. Punting Yep, it’s that time of the year again. Grab a boat, some friends and sip champagne (or the student equivalent) while you lull down the river Cherwell.
  4. Summer Balls After the much–talked about Christ Church and Worcester balls of trinity last year, the balls this term have much to live up to.  May 9th seems to be a popular date, with Hilda’s, Hugh’s and Keble all occurring on the same night. But the big one to look out for is the Oriel Commemoration Ball, happening on the 26th of June.
  5. The Open Air cinema The Open air cinema is coming to cities across the UK, from Shoreditch to Reading – and Oxford. What better way to spend your balmy evenings than watching films under the stars? Pre-register now to hear about what’s on and for ticket releases.
  6. Cult screens If the Open Air isn’t enough for you, Cult Screens will also be showcasing their share of films from May to September. Bean bag and deckchair seating promise to make this one memorable experience.
  7. Jericho Street fair June 13th. This street fair set in the heart of Jericho will include music, craft stalls, Irish dancing, Sumo wrestling, morris men, fun events and pints of ale – what more could you want!
  8. Jazz on college lawns Trinity College did this last year and Hertford is the first college to set a date – the 8th of May. The college jazz band will be playing to celebrate the launch of Hertford’s first ever Arts Festival! Expect good music, burgers and Pimms.
  9. Student Productions OUDS have yet to release their term card but after the rage of Othello last year there’s no doubt we can expect some fantastic productions this Trinity – one of the first being Dr Jekyll and Hyde in 2nd week.
  10. Trashing And one for all those taking exams to look forward to – trashing: the perfect way to celebrate the end of finals with confetti, prosecco and all things sticky. 

We Made History

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Last weekend some of Oxford and Cambridge’s finest athletes made history in the Boat Race. And these athletes were women. This year marked the first ever instance of women racing the same course, on the same river, on the same day as men. Whilst this may sound like something which should have happened long before now (which it should have), and might not seem like a big deal to a lot of people (although it is), it marked a true step towards equality in sport.

Before last Saturday, I had never been too interested in the Boat Race, despite being an avid fan of Oxford sport, and a horrendously competitive  sportswoman myself. Personally, I am not a rower but more of a jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none kind of sportswoman, dabbling in a range of college leagues over my three years at the university. However, I set aside my usual eye rolling, scathing comments about ‘rowing wankers’ and was proud to support my fellow female students, who have somehow managed to balance being a Blues rower and a completing an Oxbridge degree, excelling at both.

Before now, the women’s races have been generally held at Henley, on a much shorter course, and with only a fraction of the media coverage that the men’s races have held for many years. Women’s rowing has come a long way since the first female Oxbridge race in 1927, when the two boats were judged not on endurance or speed, but on style. The women who rowed for both universities last weekend are my new heroes, pioneering British sport and dragging it into the 21st century. It took a long time to get here, but their achievement today has proved that there is a definite progression happening.

The race itself was easily won by Oxford, mostly due to our boat having considerably more experienced and powerful rowers, including Caryn Davies, a decorated and talented rower, sportswoman and lawyer, in stroke position. However, despite celebrating the dark blues thrashing the tabs, the pride I felt that made my eyes well up and caused a cheeky tear to escape was not simply for my university, but for all 18 of those women who gave every last inch of themselves in that race, proving the rightful place of women in sport everywhere.

To be even a small part of such a huge event, by being at the same university as these amazing athletes, and having the privilege to watch such a previously male-centred tradition extending its hand to female rowers was overwhelming.

To the rowers in both the main and reserves boats, at both Oxford and Cambridge, their coaches, and the people behind the scenes who made today possible, we salute you. This day will go down in history as a win not just for OUWBC and the University of Oxford, but for sportswomen everywhere who have been held back, put down, and told that they cannot compete at the same level as men. Inch by inch, length by length, win by win, female sport is finally getting the respect and recognition that it deserves, and last weekend was a beautiful and awe-inspiring leap in the right direction. 

Review: Lost River

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★★☆☆☆
Two Stars

There’s a point about midway through Lost River, Ryan Gosling’s vibrant but frustrating feature directing debut, where the film takes an astonishing artistic risk, essentially lifting beat for beat an extended sequence from Blue Velvet, where Dean Stockwell croons “In Dreams” to a captive audience. It’s the point at which an engaging setup, exciting cast, and talented crew, are finally drowned by Gosling’s difficulty in finding his own directorial voice. The film invites the question, can you claim to have been inspired by something, if you do nothing new with those inspirations?

The film has an engaging enough premise. A decaying former industrial metropolis sits as at the edge of a fetid reservoir, formed on top of the flooded bones of several smaller towns several decades ago. Christina Hendricks stars as Billy, a single mother trying to save her childhood home from demolition by taking a job in a gory strip show on the edge of town. Her eldest son, Bones, spends his days raiding copper wire from abandoned buildings, and attempting to outrun Matt Smith’s Bully, a crazed, flamboyant hoodlum with a penchant for cutting off people’s lips.

At the same time, Bones is falling for Rat, Saoirse Ronan, who spends her nights with her vampiric grandmother, who sits in silent repose, still mourning the death of her husband long ago. Everyone is caught up in memories of the past. Time stands still, conversations get stuck in loops, characters watch old films again and again. The town is caught in a stupor. “The only way to break the curse is to bring the monster to the surface” Rat tells Bones.

It’s an anti-capitalist Southern gothic fable. The film has magic in its grimy, delicate lights and lurid colours which emerge from the inky blackness of the town. Gosling, if nothing else, has a grasp on tone, and an eye for an arresting image. The pastel miasma of the rooms beneath the strip joint, for instance, tie Billy’s struggle to that of Bones, as both descend into the town’s underworlds to retrieve various forms of monsters from the depths. And the film does have things to say. The bloody strip show, where under a campy Eva Mendes, women play at mutilating their faces and bodies for the baying crowd, strikes a chord as the women offer their peeled-off skin to their male audience in return for their tips.

The film has things to say about what people really trade in unbalanced relations, primarily between classes, and between genders, but these ideas are mostly obscured by Gosling’s unsteady stewardship, and the finger prints of the litany of directorial inspirations he employs. It’s Lynch, it’s Refn, it’s Malick, it’s Korine, it’s Noé. Yet somehow, improbably, it still feels a little bit Gosling. There’s something personal being expressed here. He conjures a stillness, an inconsequence, which feels like something of his own. But just like the film’s titular town, it gets lost amongst the murk.

But the film also deals uncomfortably with gender, and particularly race. If Gosling’s camera at least avoids leering at his female characters, he does locate a paternal protectionism in the film’s perspective, with the film’s treatment of women’s agency, whilst never entirely appealing, erring a little on the side of the puritanical. Worse, any characters of colour are bit parts, stereotypically earthy cyphers full of jive talk, mysticism and little else. They’re brought in and out of the film randomly, just more set dressing to go with the dilapidated buildings and poverty-porn.

Make no mistake, Lost River is a mess, but if nothing else it’s a brazen piece of filmmaking. There’s surely no way Gosling could have conceived of a positive reception to a film so derivative, so obvious, so unabashedly ‘arty,’ and from a first time actor-turned-director no less! But he made it anyway. Unfortunately, by the muddled, stifled ending, he reveals himself as an entirely inessential filmmaker, a curator of imagery rather than a true storyteller. Like his characters, Gosling can’t stop pining for what once was. In his case, for the giants of independent cinema.

Recipe of the week: dough balls and garlic butter

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Dough balls are, year round, the perfect no-fuss fingerfood. They’re light but filling; suitable for children, adults, and in-betweens; and equally appropriate as pub grub or a dinner party apéritif.  I’ve added a recipe for garlic butter here for the dream combination (and an excellent sandwich spread the next day if you have any left over) but dough balls can go with chocolate spreads, creamy cheeses and fruity jams alike. This recipe makes 20 dough balls. 

Ingredients:

500g strong white bread flour
1 teaspoon unrefined golden caster sugar
7g easy bake yeast
1-2 teaspoons salt
15g unsalted butter, softened
200g salted butter, softened
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
300ml warm water
Parsley
Salt and pepper

Method:

1.  Start by preparing your dough.  Stir the sugar and yeast into the salt and flour in a large bowl, then rub in the unsalted butter with your hands, slowly adding water until you have a somewhat sticky, soft dough.  

2.  Lightly dust a clean surface with extra flour and knead the dough on it for about 10 minutes, until it is stretchy but smooth.

3.  Separate your dough evenly into around 20 pieces and roll the segments into balls.  Distribute these pieces on a baking tray, making sure they all have room to expand.  Grease some cling film with either butter or oil and place over your baking tray, then leave it in a warm place for half an hour.  Preheat your oven to 210°C.

4.  While you wait, make your garlic butter.  Whip your softened salted butter for a few minutes till it’s fluffy in a bowl, then mix in the garlic, and some parsley, salt and pepper to preference.  Cover with cling film and leave in the fridge till you’re ready to serve.

5.  At this point, the balls should be twice the size they were.  Leave them in the oven for 10 minutes, turn the temperature down to 185°C, leave for about another 10, keeping an eye on them.  When they’re golden brown and sound hollow when lightly tapped, they’re ready. Serve hot with your garlic butter, some chocolate spread, and any other dip you fancy.