Buttery biscuit base

I started work at 6 this morning and I won't finish until about 8 tonight, so I won't have time to write anything much, let alone anything of any real substance that would consititute a proper post. However, I just had to share this with you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfeyUGZt8nk&feature=player_embedded

Just so you know, I don't actually like Masterchef because I can't stand:

a) Watching clueless people cooking terrible food.
b) Being told that 'this competition is the biggest, hardest, most important thing in the world ever' when it clearly isn't.
c) Watching Greg wallace eat off a spoon.

One of my wonderful friends (Shapiro strikes again) sent me the link to this you tube video and it had me giggling like a child, so I'm passing it on (tragically enough, from a purely musical perspective I think it's quite a good tune, but Greg's face at 1.36 minutes in freaks me out a bit). I just hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

I like the buttery biscuit base!

Dark days

Coming back from holiday and finishing a good book. Two of the most depressing things you can do, only made worse when you manage to do them both at the same time. Our week in the UK was wonderful, hectic, busy and bittersweet (only because I really hate saying goodbye), and was only as good as it was thanks to all of our wonderful family and friends who made us feel so welcome and had such good times with us. I managed to complete all but one of my list from ‘Gastronomic Anticipation’ (I never got to eat any of Roger’s Pavlova, but he did make millfoile which was delicious), and managed to sneak in a few items that were totally unexpected (Sandall’s prawns parcels, dinner at The Chadwick’s Inn in Maltby, and BBQ Paddock farm spare ribs to name but a few).

Whilst in Waterstones in Harrogate on a mission to purchase ‘Bocca’ by Jacob Kennedy (the mastermind behind the absolutely amazing restaurant ‘Bocca di Lupo’ in London’s Soho. Yes I’ve been. Yes it was awesome), a book caught my eye called ‘The Sorcerer's Apprentices: A Season at El Bulli’ which is an account of the 2009 season at El Bulli. Bocca was full price, and this book was on offer, so I did the sensible thing and purchased ‘The Sorcerers Apprentices’ and put ‘Bocca’ back on the shelf (whilst resolving to buy it online on my return to Guernsey in secret – I’m running out of book shelf space and it’s a bit of a bone of contention with Diesel). I’ve just finished reading it, and I LOVED this book from start to finish. One of the reasons that I enjoyed it so much is because it tells the more human story behind one of the best restaurants in the world. If you don’t know about ‘El Bulli’ and you are interested in food, it really is about time that you found out about it. I have been obsessed with this restaurant since I heard about it about five years ago. I remember having a conversation with someone who told me about this mystical restaurant tucked away in Roses, Catalonia, Spain, that has plates designed and made for each new dish; has courses that consist of a waiter spraying an atomiser into your face while you ate some tiny unrecognisable morsel with the intention of confusing your senses and perceptions; and shuts for six months of the year so it can design a totally new menu for the next season. The more I found out about it the more I wanted to know, and the more I have read, the more disappointed that I am that I will never get to eat there.

Even if I had been lucky enough to be one of the 8,000 lucky diners out of the 2,000,000 who tried to get a table each year, my name would already have had to be on the list to guarantee me a spot because 2011 is the last season before the restaurant shuts down for good (they will open again at some point in the future as a culinary institute/research centre of such like but the details have not been released yet). Honestly, I am not lying when I say that if I could eat here before it closes I would probably sacrifice a few of my own fingers. I’d probably even do it myself. With a smile. I’m not a religious person (despite completing a degree in Theology), but for me, this is as close as it gets. El Bulli has a permanent staff, but takes on each year a number (in 2009 it was just over 30) of staff (many of whom are already very experienced running their own kitchens or working in Michelin star kitchens) who work for the full six months totally unpaid. No holidays, one ‘family meal’ a day, sharing rooms, leaving loved ones behind, and in many cases spending hours and hours and days and weeks and months focussed on one, or a very small number of repetitive tasks that require full concentration and absolute dedication. For example, one girl who was working in the kitchen had to spend hours each day blanching rose petals and then bathing them in ice water, then repeating the process a number of times, in order to have enough rose petals to build a rose on a plate (one for every diner, every night) for one dish. Another job they all had to learn to do at the start of the season was to remove the brains from rabbits whilst ensuring that the brain itself remains perfectly intact with no membranes pierced - trays of them. The first day was spent learning how to cut carrots exactly how the chef de cuisine wanted them, and scrubbing rocks in the car park. This wouldn’t be such a surprising list of tasks for most apprentices (mundane tasks are generally an apprentices lot), but few apprentices have already reached the stage in their career where they have Michelin stars and run their own kitchens. And even fewer chef’s who have reached this level would do all of this for free. I know this sounds like a bit of a self indulgent rant, but I just think it is amazing, and a testament to just how strongly some people in this industry feel about what they do. For all of these reasons, I can absolutely recommend it. I’ve even got Diesel reading it, and it’s less than a tenner on Amazon.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sorcerers-Apprentices-Season-El-Bulli/dp/0857201565/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1309286316&sr=8-1

If you’ve never seen any photos of the dishes from El Bulli, I’m so happy to be the first one to share one with you (I’ve obviously just taken this photo from someone else's website, so there’s plenty more out there if you’re interested). Just don’t blame me if you suddenly develop a very expensive book habit.

(yes, that IS a plate of food)

The (North) Eastern Block (and two very good reasons to go for a visit)

Whilst in the North, surrounded by dogs and with plenty of time on our hands, it seemed like the sensible thing to do would be to go for a walk on one of the nearby beaches. We all left with good intentions; I had in mind some frolicking in the sunshine with the dogs, maybe even rolling about with them in the soft sand dunes. But unfortunately, on arrival I realised just how unlikely this was. It rained. I’m sure in the sunshine you would have been able to ignore the fact that the backdrop to the beach was a petrochemicals factory and steelworks, but as it was, it just felt a bit like we were somewhere in the Former Soviet Union (maybe that’s why they call it Redcar?). I kept expecting to find two Russian KGB agents sporting ushankas and long coats confiscating our passports. I think this picture sums up the (my) mood perfectly

Having said that, it was good to get some ‘fresh air’ (note the factories in the background), and anyway, everyone else enjoyed it (you can’t win them all).

On Tuesday we travelled to Harrogate to go for tea at Betty’s tea rooms. I was all set up to have a full afternoon tea (finger sandwiches, scones, cakes), but on the way in I saw someone else eating it and realised that it probably wouldn’t even touch the sides. So instead I opted for a smoked salmon rosti, and a chocolate cake and a pot of tea for afterwards (it was all delicious). 

If you haven’t been to Betty’s, it really is a bit of an experience. It’s what you would like all tea shops to be, but never are. It’s a bit like a theme park (the waitress outfits for one), but the quality of the food and drink and the service and the tea rooms themselves make it worth queuing up outside. All of the many varieties of tea are served in china cups, all tea pots are heavy silver, and the tea is loose and requires a strainer (this always feels like a lot more fun than I’m sure it actually is). My mum insists on having her tea made in a pot and only drinks tea out of a thin china cup, which I used to think was just another way to wind me up, but she’s right - tea brewed in a pot tastes better, and tea also tastes better out of china cups than mugs. It just does.

Something of a revelation for me was a wonderful dinner that we had at a small pub in Maltby, called ‘The Chadwick’s Inn’

http://www.chadwicksinnmaltby.co.uk/

This place really, really blew me away, so much so in fact that I’m thinking of writing them a thank you card (I know, imagine that). The service was so good and friendly and helpful and genuine, that it didn’t matter that we got our first round of G & T’s thrown over us. We then were given an amuse bouche (a small espresso cup of freshly made peach smoothie) which really threw me, and then enjoyed a fantastic three course meal. The menu is well thought out and reassuringly small (about five options for each course) and each option was familiar and simple enough to be inviting, but with enough elements and twists to keep you interested. My main (confit pork belly, rhubarb puree, fondant potatoes, savoy cabbage)

was good, my dessert was even better (warm pecan pie, toffee pear, popcorn ice cream and some sort of jelly – the jelly was unforgettable and unnecessary)

but the starter was, and I say this in all sincerity, one of the best starters I have ever eaten. It was called something like ‘the Chadwicks Inn Ploughmans’ and was served on a wooden board, including toasted black pudding bread, homemade piccalilli, pressed ham hock, a coddled egg, and crumbed and deep fried Brie. It was totally, totally perfect. Each element was wonderful on its own, and together it somehow managed to be greater than the sum of its parts. Just, brilliant.

On our way out, I’d drank enough wine to give me the confidence to pop my head round the door of the kitchen and ask to speak to the Head Chef. I have to say I was slightly taken aback when some fresh faced, blond haired tiny slip of thing came over and introduced himself. So taken aback, I don’t remember his name. Anyway, I thanked him for the meal and told him how impressed I was, and even said something like ‘I’m also a chef, aha ha!’ (the shame). He was very gracious and lovely, and before I left I asked him how old he was. 21. I think I muttered something along the lines of ‘fucking hell that’s so young.....and I’m so old’ and shuffled out of the kitchen and into the taxi shaking my head. You just can’t buy class like that. This meal was the perfect end to a perfect few days, so thank you Roger and Jill. I think it’s fair to say we’ll be going back!

Once upon a time in the Midlands

I'm currently 'oop North', at Diesel's mum's house, trying desperately to go five minutes without falling over myself to make a fuss of their three beautiful dogs, the most recent addition being a chocolate Labrador who goes by the name of Buster. It's not easy (just look at that face).

It's been a bit difficult to post over the last few days because I've been too busy having an amazing time with my friends and family (and I've spent quite a lot of time hungover too, which tends to inhibit creativity and motivation somewhat). To return to the last post ('Gastronomic anticipation'), I have ticked off a few items from my list. At the BBQ at my parents' house (it ended in some serious Schnapps drinking - good times) on Saturday night, my friend Jon (Paddock Farm) brought some sausages and two full sheets of pork ribs that had been marinated in oil, chilli, sage and salt. They were the first thing that went on the BBQ and I think it's fair to say that they went quicker than everything else. they were truly delicious. The sausages were also fantastic - deeply porky, meaty, no unpleasant gristly bits, well seasoned and they didn't shrink after they'd been on the BBQ. In short, they were everything that I thought that they would be. So good in fact that we went to the garage in the village on our way up here to purchase some more (I wanted to try them having not already drank too much wine, and in order to take some decent photos). In an effort to demonstrate how well the sausages went down, I did ask for a 'lady and the tramp moment', but unfortunately the sausages were a bit hot. Jodie darling, you do make a lovely tramp to Matt's lady:

On Friday night we were treated to an amazing curry, not courtesy of my Dad, but by the 'oldest curry house in Leicester' (According to Adam Sparrow, who is a policeman, and also Wikipedia, which is good enough for me). Due to a late crossing (Thank you Condor Ferries. It's nice to see that your winter maintenance programme was a success), we turned up at the 'Taj Mahal' at about 11.15pm, and were greeted with smiles and pints of Cobra, and very soon afterwards some hot poppadoms with all the accompaniments (the onion and tomato mix, mango chutney and yogurt etc.). We shared some onion bhajis, and then I had a king prawn pathia. It was truly, truly delicious, and I still stand by my belief that you just can't get a good curry outside the Midlands (I know this is contentious). If you do ever swing by Leicester, I implore you to go. One word of warning though, I was sweating out garlic and onions for the next 24 hours, so definitely not one for a hot date. For my money however, the winning dish was Adam's King Prawn Shashlik. The service was so friendly and helpful, they didn't bat an eyelid at our late arrival and never made us feel rushed, and even gave us all a bailey's 'on the house' before we left (I don't really like Baileys, but that's not the point).

Something else of note that I would like to share with you, is my friend Chris Sandal's 'prawn packages', put together at my house by Chris and cooked on the BBQ. He wrapped king prawns in foil with garlic, chilli, cherry tomatoes, red onion and some olive oil. They were a massive hit, especially with my mum. So much so that the next night I made something similar, however in my prawn parcels I put prawns (obviously), a large knob of butter, grated fresh garlic, sea salt, black pepper and some olive oil. They went on the BBQ and we ate them with some crusty bread. They were fantastic, and would have been improved with some chopped parsley and a splash of lemon juice (next time). I have also decided that when we get back I am going to try this with fresh mussels. I am convinced this will be tremendous. So, for the inspiration (and your wonderful company, and the picture of you looking like a thumb of course), Chris Sandal, I thank you.

In other news, we stopped on the M1 and had a Big Mac meal with a side of chicken nuggets. It. Was. Awesome. I have nothing more to say about this.

In an effort to prove that I'm not an absolute scum bag, we're off to Betty's tomorrow for Afternoon tea, and as soon as the Labradors have been for a walk over the fields, we're having Pimms in the late afternoon sunshine.

I love England.

Gastronomic anticipation

The problem with being sick, is that you’re sick. Long gone are the days where I would indulge in hours of guilt free luxuriating under the duvet, comforted with the justification that because I’m sick I should be ‘resting’. Not anymore. These days, any time not spent working is rare, and as such it is the only time that I have to tackle my never ending to-do list (cleaning, changing sheets, cleaning the fridge, packing etc.). The problem is that while I’m rushing around in semi excitement that the list may for once be totally crossed off, I have to keep stopping every five minutes for ‘a bit of a sit down’, at which point I am reminded that I am actually not very well. However, needs must, and anyway, I can’t go back to bed because I’ve got the painters in (literally - he’s in the living room - that’s not a euphemism).

So, it is here I sit, in my bedroom (I’m quite enjoying the change of scenery), thinking about my long awaited trip back to Blighty. Apart from the fact that I’m extremely excited about seeing my wonderful friends and family, my thoughts have inevitably turned to food. Quite literally, even when sleeping (Last night I had a dream about eating three Big Mac meals in a row (large). I think it’s about time I had a word with myself). To ensure that I don’t forget anything, I wanted to make a list of the food related things that I am looking forward to.

1. Big Mac meal.

This needs no introduction or explanation by now surely. If I don’t get a bloody sponsorship deal before the end of the year then I’m going to give Ronald McDonald a pasting.

2. Afternoon tea at Bettys in Harrogate.

http://www.bettys.co.uk/bettys_harrogate.aspx

Afternoon tea is fast becoming something I get very excited about. As I now consider lunch to be the new dinner (going out to a swanky restaurant for lunch, especially if you order from the a la carte menu, just feels so ruddy bloody decadent. It also gives you a good excuse for wine at lunchtime), afternoon tea must be lunch’s prettier younger sister. Even more so if you dispense with the tea and go with something ridiculous like pink champagne to wash down the cucumber sandwiches, scones with jam and cream and delicate petit fours. I’ve been to Bettys in Northallerton for lunch which was great, but I’ve been assured that Bettys in Harrogate is a step up. I’m not so much looking forward to the disapproving looks as I take photos of everything before I smash my way through scones with cream and jam (I should be able to eat dairy again by then - back of the net), but needs must.

3. My dad’s curry.

My dad loves curry, and has for years been visiting the same small Indian grocers in Leamington that stocks all of the necessary spices and other bits and pieces required to make his curry. He doesn’t ever make curry in the conventional sense, i.e. it’s never a ‘Madras’ or a ‘Rogon Josh’, it’s just a ‘curry’, and it’s always amazing. I don’t have the exact recipe, because he tends to make it days or weeks in advance of any visit 

‘Wiseman, if you want a curry I need some warning. It needs time to mature'

At the risk of going off on a tangent, this is the same for ragu. In a similar vein I have been attempting to perfect my ragu/bolognaise sauce for the last six years, and I feel that I am getting close. The last batch was by far the best and contained amongst other things pig cheeks and chicken livers, but more of that another time. Incidentally, I’m aware that curry is not the most sensible thing to eat after gastroenteritis but I’m willing to take that risk and its consequences. I told you it was good. 

(I'm sure I don't need to spell this out, but just in case, that's my dad)

4. Sausages from Paddock farm.

http://www.paddock.fm/

A very good friend of mine (Jon Francis) now breeds and farms rare breed Tamworth pigs. I have not up to this point been lucky enough to try any of the pork, but I have been promised some sausages for a BBQ at my parent’s house at the weekend. I fucking love sausages (cold sausage sandwiches with ketchup and freshly baked white bread are AWESOME). Also, if I can I’m going to try and sneak a visit to the farm. If I do, you’ll be the first to know.

5. Roger’s Pavlova.

Diesel’s mum’s partner, Roger, makes the most amazing Pavlova in the world (without an electric whisk in sight). He doesn’t add any corn flour or vinegar (which is what I would do, to ensure that you get the chewy bit in the middle) and does the whole thing by hand. Last year on our visit we had the Pavlova and I was totally blown away. I think everyone else was too because we ate pretty much the whole thing, when there was enough to start with to feed ten people. Other than the meringue, he added only freshly whipped double cream, some sweet Scottish raspberries, and some obscene strawberries from Marks and Spencer’s. Obscene only in that they were about as big as your fist. Normally, strawberries that look beautiful taste like shite, but these not only looked good, they tasted tremendous. I think this stands as proof that the simpler something is, the better it is. In the same way, many people put cream and milk and all sorts of other bits and pieces in scrambled eggs. But in my opinion, the best scrambled eggs are free range, fresh (as in, laid that morning and bought from the end of someone’s garden), and contain nothing other than a large knob of butter, Maldon sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. If you get the basics right, you’re already onto a winner. Off on a tangent again, it goes without saying that eggs should never come within a foot of a microwave, and scrambled eggs should be cooked over a very low heat for a very long time. I’m just saying.

At the risk of sounding desperate for some audience participation, if you think I’ve missed something important, please let me know.

Dry toast.

I have just returned from the doctors and been signed off sick for the next two days due to a rather nasty bout of gastroenteritis.  Short of gout, this is literally one of the worst things to happen to you if you’re a food lover (other than being told that you need to cut salt out of your diet, the horror). I don’t know how I got it, nobody else I know has it, and I don’t know how long I will have it. But the long and short of it is that;

1. I can’t go back to work until Friday, and

2. I am in a terrible mood because I can’t really eat anything other than a bit of dry toast and some clear soup.

I would far rather be at work, believe me. Not being able to eat is my worst nightmare. What do I do to cheer myself up? Eat. What am I allowed to eat at the moment? Toast and ‘clear soup’. What do I want to eat right now? Hot toast and Nutella, melba toast and homemade chicken liver pate with dill pickles, warm chocolate brownies and ice cold milk, sausage beans and chips, fillet steak and béarnaise sauce (all which I cannot eat), ANYTHING that isn’t dry toast and clear fucking soup.

Rightly or wrongly, I am consoling myself with reading about food instead of cooking and eating it (I could just cook it, but I honestly don’t trust myself not to take the next obvious step). It’s probably not the most sensible of ideas because It’s just making me more hungry, but I have to do something to cheer myself up, and in actual fact, I’ve been discovering a whole load of things that I’d been meaning to cook but just forgotten about - most of them contained in ‘Kitchen’ by Nigella Lawson. I love this book, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I know she’s a bit of a sexy mental, what with the silky dressing gowns, crazy eyes, massive jugs and after hours fridge sessions, but I think she’s great. Her writing is witty and funny, and her recipes are easy follow, they always work, and they are genuinely tempting. There are at least five or six things that I want to cook immediately, and what I really like is that her writing gives me inspiration to try things I wouldn’t otherwise, even if I don’t end up sticking to the recipe as she writes it. If you don’t own ‘Kitchen’ I think you should.

One such recipe that I am very familiar with is the one for ‘Sweet and salty crunchy nut bars’. On reflection, I think that this is the reason that I buried this book deep in amongst the other books on the shelf in the first place. After I made it the first time, I made it again and again, and then quickly realised that if I didn’t stop making it I wouldn’t stop eating it and if I didn’t stop eating it, before long I wouldn’t manage to fit through my front door. I did try this out on other people, and some people (whose opinions I greatly respect) rather disappointingly thought it wasn’t that nice. However, I unashamedly love it. It is so, so, so easy to make it almost feels ridiculous giving you a ‘recipe’ but I will do, because if it turns out that you’re a lover, I rather selfishly want to be the one you think of when you’re rolling about on the floor mid foodgasm, eyes rolling back in your head and dribbling. For me, this is the food equivalent of cocaine. I’m not sure whether it is because of the salty sweet thing, my love of all things honeycomb, or what, but whatever it is, no matter how much I have, I always want more. You have been warned.

.....Dry toast anyone?

Sweet and salty crunch nut bars

300g good quality dark chocolate (60% coco solids are best for this, but you should absolutely get the best quality you can.

125g unsalted butter (it’s not the end of the world if you only have salted)

3 x 15ml tablespoons of golden syrup (don’t worry about being exact. If in doubt, err on the side of ‘more is more’)

250g salted peanuts

4 x 40g Cadburys Crunchie bars

Line your tray (square or round, it matters not) with foil, or use a tin that has a detachable base for easy removal. Break up the chocolate (not including the Crunchie bars) and drop into a heavy based saucepan. Add the butter and syrup to the chocolate and gently melt together (don’t rush or you run the risk of burning the chocolate). Tip the peanuts into a bowl and crush and crumble the Crunchie bars into the same bowl. Leave some bits bigger than others. Add all this to the chocolate and take off the heat. Mix a bit, then tip into the tray and smooth the top (not essential). Put in the fridge to set, and about four hours later cut into slices and eat. For your own entertainment, if you live with other people, you could always make them fight to the death to decide who gets to lick the bowl out (optional).