Monthly Archives: January 2011

A feast for your Valentine: the #formanslovecookoff challenge and a chance to win some goodies

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Lightly smoked salmon sashimi

Valentine’s day. It’s fast approaching and whatever you think of it, and whatever that significant other (or object of unrequited desire) might say or do – or be overheard muttering – it’s not an opportunity any budding Romeo or Juliet should forget.

And talking about unrequited objects of desire, Forman and Field – purveyors of devilishly tempting packets of smoked fish and other goodies I could never quite afford – got me thinking about that very occaision. Specifically what to eat. Continue reading →

Wild salmon in a Bengali mustard sauce

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Bengali mustard salmon

Fish isn’t usually the first thing that you’d think of when you think of curry. Not most people anyhow. Chicken, lamb and prawns (not to mention cheese/paneer, spinach, okra and potatoes) tend to spring spicily to mind instead. At least for this South Asian food lover.

Which, when you think about the size of the subcontinent – and its 6000 miles plus of coastline, not to mention the mighty rivers – is ridiculous. And anyone who has travelled in the area will know that people there cook fish as well as they do everything else. Continue reading →

Bloggers’ Lunch at The Ship – a proper party

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Mini crab cake with quails egg

From across the capital (and beyond) they came, braving arctic conditions and the vagaries of London transport. They crossed rivers, trekked ice-bound wildernesses, clambered up treacherous stairs and made their way, swaying and clanking, through tunnels deep underground.

Why? To get to one of the events of 2010, the bloggers’ xmas lunch. No fewer than fifty bloggers found their way through snow and wind to The Ship, a beacon of warmth and light perched on the south bank of the Thames. A pub full of friendly folks chatting, eating and drinking. Continue reading →

Brawn

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Brawn

“Why not join us in cooking something interesting” they said, “it’ll be fun, a thrifty bit of meat for a thrifty month.” Sure, I thought, why not? It definitely sounds interesting. Little did I know.

Like Pinnochio’s nose, it just grew and grew every time anybody talked about it. First, we were cooking brawn. Then I found out it was a competition. And it was being judged by butchers. Not just any butchers, but Jamie Oliver’s crew at Barbecoa. Oh.

And so #brawnoff was born. Continue reading →

Aromatic courgette yoghurt

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Chick peas, courgette yogurt and curried parsnip chips

You know when you spend ages crafting a main dish? And then, sweating profusely and with the time till dinner o’clock running out, you throw together a side dish? You with me so far? You know when the main is a bit meh, but the side is fabulous? Natch.

It leaves me feeling both a bit annoyed and a bit happy, which can make me seem like a bit of a bi-polar dinner companion. On the one had feeling quietly satisfied (smug) that the side dish was good. But on the other hand feeling terminally depressed at the dullness of the main event. Continue reading →

The finer side of Georgia food

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Quail and grits

The States ain’t all about junk food, coffee and down home cookin’, contrary to much popular opinion. Yes, it is the home of the hamburger, and awash with salt-laden processed food and fast food joints. But, just like here, you can get good food, really good food, in the US.

Having been charged with cooking the Christmas dinner, we went hunting for some of that fine food. And I had heard rumours that one of them had an in-house butcher. Sure enough, we found an unmarked door with a button alongside saying “Press me” (or words to that effect). It was all very Alice-in-Wonderlandish, which for Georgia is downright weird. Continue reading →

Georgia: down home and delicious

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Georgia bbq ribs

“Georgia, Georgia, the whole day through. Just an old sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind.” That old sweet song, and grits, burgers, pancakes, crispy bacon, eggs sunny side up, all that low down deliciously dirty food, keeps Georgia on my mind. And in my veins.

Sometimes what you need is dirty food. It hits the spot. None of that hoity toity linen and silver fine dining rubbish. No. What you need is grease and chipped formica. And something with a strong taste, something fresh, something that’s been cooked instead of prepared, sliced, heated, arranged and combined. Fuel not art. Continue reading →