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.