Grey skies, dark morning, a chill in the air: all counteracted by a ray of the Mediterranean for breakfast.
Fat figs, split open, flesh bursting forth, under a hot grill with a dab of brown sugar for a couple of minutes. Then drizzled with 'caerlaverock honey' (not for sale yet, people, but take a look at the bee-keeper's book) and indulged in. The gent, living up to his name, spooned the seedy flesh up, whilst I became sticky of finger and juicy of face.
There was a small dish of plain yoghurt each, and a pert espresso of Monmouth coffee to wake our senses.
Then away on our bicycles, like a two-man fleet of earnest Londoners, sweeping south across the city, to work.
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Saturday, 4 September 2010
two-stage breakfast
First, 'pomegranate infused granola' (no, I didn't invent that) with Greek yoghurt and raspberries. Then a pause whilst the gent fetched newspaper and bread, then onto the second stage: sausage sandwiches with plastic bread and tomato ketchup. It is my ongoing battle to resist understanding the term 'Tommy K'.
Coffee was Monmouth - as ever - and in my yellow tea-cups. Strictly speaking not the right vessel, but the canary yellow can't help but make me feel wonderful. Sort of queenly combined with headmistressy, but with a sausage buttie in hand.
And my laptop arrived this week: I'm back online! Ketchup all round.
Coffee was Monmouth - as ever - and in my yellow tea-cups. Strictly speaking not the right vessel, but the canary yellow can't help but make me feel wonderful. Sort of queenly combined with headmistressy, but with a sausage buttie in hand.
And my laptop arrived this week: I'm back online! Ketchup all round.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
sacred coffee
My coffee of choice these days is made and poured (or rather, crafted and sculpted with panache) by the friendly Umberto at Sacred.
I had been to this coffee stall a few times over the years and thought it good, but was often with a friend and in need of a seat. Most usually, a seat out of the wind, rain or snow. However this summer has been glorious, the flat white has sprung up all over London - even in the dark recesses of corporate brands like Costa - and one fine day Melly Bo took me back to Sacred... and I got hooked on their perfectly balanced, strong coffee.
For those who like to sit down, maybe have a muffin with their coffee, then Sacred also have drink-in cafes; I have noted their location and am reassured that should I be persuaded to the Westfield centre, then at least I can get a good coffee to keep my spirits up!
I had been to this coffee stall a few times over the years and thought it good, but was often with a friend and in need of a seat. Most usually, a seat out of the wind, rain or snow. However this summer has been glorious, the flat white has sprung up all over London - even in the dark recesses of corporate brands like Costa - and one fine day Melly Bo took me back to Sacred... and I got hooked on their perfectly balanced, strong coffee.
For those who like to sit down, maybe have a muffin with their coffee, then Sacred also have drink-in cafes; I have noted their location and am reassured that should I be persuaded to the Westfield centre, then at least I can get a good coffee to keep my spirits up!
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
cold war stores
It is always the least glamorous foods that get to me. My new fad? Tinned tuna.
Last week I had it in oil (which I didn't drain off, just lifted it, dripping, onto the plate) with olives, avocado, a squeeze of lime, and salad from the veg box - a little stump of cucumber, a few leaves of curly lettuce. This week's version is tuna in brine, as it's shopping basket neighbours were sweetcorn and mayonnaise: this combo can be a bit greasy with tuna in oil, but perfect when from brine. The addition of baby gems and avocado takes it to the passe side of retro - but also raises the nutritional value, too.
Of course when I say sweetcorn, I mean tinned ... in fact, my bag was pretty heavy as there were also cannellini beans in there. I don't mean to start a rush on tined goods, but the stack next to my work desk makes it look like I have received notice of a possible 3-minute warning - as my Mother recalls it, from the fifties or sixties.
But we live in more peaceful times and can enjoy tinned food on its own merits. Humble, yes, but very delicious.
Last week I had it in oil (which I didn't drain off, just lifted it, dripping, onto the plate) with olives, avocado, a squeeze of lime, and salad from the veg box - a little stump of cucumber, a few leaves of curly lettuce. This week's version is tuna in brine, as it's shopping basket neighbours were sweetcorn and mayonnaise: this combo can be a bit greasy with tuna in oil, but perfect when from brine. The addition of baby gems and avocado takes it to the passe side of retro - but also raises the nutritional value, too.
Of course when I say sweetcorn, I mean tinned ... in fact, my bag was pretty heavy as there were also cannellini beans in there. I don't mean to start a rush on tined goods, but the stack next to my work desk makes it look like I have received notice of a possible 3-minute warning - as my Mother recalls it, from the fifties or sixties.
But we live in more peaceful times and can enjoy tinned food on its own merits. Humble, yes, but very delicious.
morsels
So much to say, so little time, such a broken lap top!
So a lunch-break blog, squeezed in. This will do the past week no justice, unfortunately, but...
Felicity Cloake was talking about chocolate mousse recipes on the Guardian 'Word of Mouth' recently: a satisfyingly thorough exploration of different recipes, concluding in Elizabeth David's being crowned the winner. Must remember to pass on the vegan-friendly recipe for Liz - or even better, cook it for her.
I am trying to catch up on reading all the new blogs I find at the 'UK Food Bloggers Association' (UKfba to make life easier) - of which I am now a member. I have no home computer at the moment so am frustrated in this effort. I love blogs and the window onto other peoples lives they offer: so many industrious people out there, running pubs, raising families, selling ham - and all finding time to write about it. As soon as I am back online properly I will post links to some!
Excellent food in my 'summer house': I am being kindly put up by three men for the summer and my goodness they have a good time! Post-work Monday evening saw Prosecco, hummus and bread, fried chorizo... then chicken fajitas and, my offering, passion fruit pavlova. All this and it was only Monday - imagine what meals will be like come the weekend!
A wonderful meal at 'Fig' in north London with friends. Cosy, charming with lovely staff and great food. I recall, only sketchily: smoked scallop with gooseberry jelly, burnt butter sauce and some herb (the gent won out with heavenly sweetbreads) ; then we all had the stuffed quail (?) with girolles, a paste of roasted onions and divine bits and bobs. We should really have thought to order some sides of vegetables and potatoes; instead the gent and I were left with room for both dessert (meringue, strawberries, ice cream - all delicately put together) and a cheese courses. The cheese was really wonderful - two from Sussex, which warmed my heart - and the big debate was whether to have cheese before or after dessert. What would you do? The gent and I chose differently according to our own taste. The waitress allied herself with my view, but my sister, more kindly, suggested the gent preferred the 'French style'. The boys chose a really excellent wine, I would trust them with the wine menu any day.
A seminar on trends in the food industry, held at the ever-superb British Library (this time in the IP and Business centre). I wrote pages of notes and whipped myself up into a frenzy of enthusiasm for starting a business. Most encouraging was that if asked what I thought beforehand, I would have loosely been along the right lines in predicting trends, and I also knew of many of the businesses and Web 2.0 technologies that were talked about. A bit more clued up than I thought - phew. My only furrowed brow came about dropping trends: there was no mention about arriving late and getting in on something already oversubscribed. Many of the trends mentioned - locally sourced foods, novelty or pop up restaurants / bars / etc. have already gone mainstream making the small, unpolished late-start-up less likely to thrive. In my completely uninformed opinion -!
22nd July 2010
So a lunch-break blog, squeezed in. This will do the past week no justice, unfortunately, but...
Felicity Cloake was talking about chocolate mousse recipes on the Guardian 'Word of Mouth' recently: a satisfyingly thorough exploration of different recipes, concluding in Elizabeth David's being crowned the winner. Must remember to pass on the vegan-friendly recipe for Liz - or even better, cook it for her.
I am trying to catch up on reading all the new blogs I find at the 'UK Food Bloggers Association' (UKfba to make life easier) - of which I am now a member. I have no home computer at the moment so am frustrated in this effort. I love blogs and the window onto other peoples lives they offer: so many industrious people out there, running pubs, raising families, selling ham - and all finding time to write about it. As soon as I am back online properly I will post links to some!
Excellent food in my 'summer house': I am being kindly put up by three men for the summer and my goodness they have a good time! Post-work Monday evening saw Prosecco, hummus and bread, fried chorizo... then chicken fajitas and, my offering, passion fruit pavlova. All this and it was only Monday - imagine what meals will be like come the weekend!
A wonderful meal at 'Fig' in north London with friends. Cosy, charming with lovely staff and great food. I recall, only sketchily: smoked scallop with gooseberry jelly, burnt butter sauce and some herb (the gent won out with heavenly sweetbreads) ; then we all had the stuffed quail (?) with girolles, a paste of roasted onions and divine bits and bobs. We should really have thought to order some sides of vegetables and potatoes; instead the gent and I were left with room for both dessert (meringue, strawberries, ice cream - all delicately put together) and a cheese courses. The cheese was really wonderful - two from Sussex, which warmed my heart - and the big debate was whether to have cheese before or after dessert. What would you do? The gent and I chose differently according to our own taste. The waitress allied herself with my view, but my sister, more kindly, suggested the gent preferred the 'French style'. The boys chose a really excellent wine, I would trust them with the wine menu any day.
A seminar on trends in the food industry, held at the ever-superb British Library (this time in the IP and Business centre). I wrote pages of notes and whipped myself up into a frenzy of enthusiasm for starting a business. Most encouraging was that if asked what I thought beforehand, I would have loosely been along the right lines in predicting trends, and I also knew of many of the businesses and Web 2.0 technologies that were talked about. A bit more clued up than I thought - phew. My only furrowed brow came about dropping trends: there was no mention about arriving late and getting in on something already oversubscribed. Many of the trends mentioned - locally sourced foods, novelty or pop up restaurants / bars / etc. have already gone mainstream making the small, unpolished late-start-up less likely to thrive. In my completely uninformed opinion -!
22nd July 2010
Sunday, 11 July 2010
feast day
Being brought a cup of tea in bed is simply the most luxurious thing.
I no longer do a slow waking procedure in the morning - tea in bed listening to John Humphreys harangue some soul on the radio - although I must have done in the past. Anyway, I took the day off for birthday reasons and very much enjoyed the leisurely morning slot, followed by a breakfast of cherries (picked the day before from my sister's tree) and a plain slab of sponge cake - made by my mother for my nephew's birthday.
Thence to the rose garden in Regent's Park to meet HG for a cheesecake-off. She made the chocolate version, and I the plain vanilla. I baked mine the day before so it would be maximally delicious, but I must admit that hers was the finer example. Exquisite is how I would describe it, if pressed. The crumb of the base was just so; the centre that perfect firmness of something like semi-soft butter, on which the retreating knife leaves a small swirl. The first time HG and I made chocolate cheesecake it was with frowns of disbelief, however I must urge you to try it: it retains that slight sour note you hope for, and somehow fails to taste chocolate-ey - instead becoming transcribed into, I fancy, a flavour-cousin of chocolate.
HG let on that, having always used Green and Black's, she had converted to the Divine dark chocolate (and in this instance to Lindt), for the slightly less gritty texture. I completely concur. I also moved away from G&B, towards Lindt, and thence to any old supermarket chocolate with 70% or more cocoa solids. For this cheesecake, or brownies, I would use the better chocolate too, though.
Anyway, for the first time ever, water from the water bath Houdini-ed into my foil-wrapped tin and the base became soggy. I was making two cakes at the same time, in different sized tins, with the result that the tall one I took my nephew was undercooked, and the HG version was rather shorter and a smidge overcooked. I was disappointed, but no one else seemed to know what I was grousing about.
Dear, dear: I meant this post to be about the wonderful chateaubriand the gent treated me to that evening, but I have written too much already. Both cheesecake recipes are found in Nigella Lawson's 'How to be a Domestic Goddess', with the amendment on HG's part of doubling the biscuit base quantities for the chocolate version.
I no longer do a slow waking procedure in the morning - tea in bed listening to John Humphreys harangue some soul on the radio - although I must have done in the past. Anyway, I took the day off for birthday reasons and very much enjoyed the leisurely morning slot, followed by a breakfast of cherries (picked the day before from my sister's tree) and a plain slab of sponge cake - made by my mother for my nephew's birthday.
Thence to the rose garden in Regent's Park to meet HG for a cheesecake-off. She made the chocolate version, and I the plain vanilla. I baked mine the day before so it would be maximally delicious, but I must admit that hers was the finer example. Exquisite is how I would describe it, if pressed. The crumb of the base was just so; the centre that perfect firmness of something like semi-soft butter, on which the retreating knife leaves a small swirl. The first time HG and I made chocolate cheesecake it was with frowns of disbelief, however I must urge you to try it: it retains that slight sour note you hope for, and somehow fails to taste chocolate-ey - instead becoming transcribed into, I fancy, a flavour-cousin of chocolate.
HG let on that, having always used Green and Black's, she had converted to the Divine dark chocolate (and in this instance to Lindt), for the slightly less gritty texture. I completely concur. I also moved away from G&B, towards Lindt, and thence to any old supermarket chocolate with 70% or more cocoa solids. For this cheesecake, or brownies, I would use the better chocolate too, though.
Anyway, for the first time ever, water from the water bath Houdini-ed into my foil-wrapped tin and the base became soggy. I was making two cakes at the same time, in different sized tins, with the result that the tall one I took my nephew was undercooked, and the HG version was rather shorter and a smidge overcooked. I was disappointed, but no one else seemed to know what I was grousing about.
Dear, dear: I meant this post to be about the wonderful chateaubriand the gent treated me to that evening, but I have written too much already. Both cheesecake recipes are found in Nigella Lawson's 'How to be a Domestic Goddess', with the amendment on HG's part of doubling the biscuit base quantities for the chocolate version.
Saturday, 3 July 2010
kohlslaw
Kohlrabi is back in the veg box. It is a vegetable that takes slightly more effort to prepare - unlike salad, spinach or tomatoes, for example, which can be quickly washed and thrown into something. There are also those extra moments one's brain takes to think of which dish precisely it could be made into... and another minute trying to decide if you actually want to eat that particular dish.
Seeing two huge examples of this vegetable sitting on a bunch of carrots, I made a snap decision to coleslaw them. I was inspired by my Mother who always seems to make the slaw, but quite differently to that you can buy. Firstly, it is always to 'use up a cabbage' from her garden; secondly she enjoys the addition of some very finely shredded onion; thirdly she shreds it all by hand with a knife ,and her chopping is a work of art, honed by decades of cooking for her brood; finally she makes a very thin sauce - a skerrick of mayonnaise with generous amounts of vinegar.
Children never appreciate anything: I used to think it was altogether too wholesome without the loading of mayo. Let me assure you, it lacks nothing and is wonderfully astringent and crunchy.
My curiosity to use kohlrabi instead of cabbage - an obvious replacement, given their close cousinliness - overrode my innate aversion to hand-grating anything other than cheese. Like taking medicine, the best way is to jump straight in without thinking and soon I had reduced my washed, peeled carrots and half a kohlrabi to a bright jungle, to which I added white wine vinegar, mayonnaise and a pinch of salt.
I discovered, and fried, the last, lonely pork loin chop in the fridge to sit next to my kohlslaw* and a few cold, boiled new potatoes from another part of that fruitful, but crammed fridge.
For a collection of unwanted food stuffs, it was remarkably good: henceforth it will be one of those meals I go out of my way to buy ingredients for. Although next time I absolutely must do mashed potato to go with it - heaven!
* I was inordinately proud of this ridiculous term I thought up. Of course, on 'googling' it to check, I was reminded that there is no such thing as an original thought. My hopes hadn't been so dashed since the day I discovered several websites dedicated to gloves found in the street...
Seeing two huge examples of this vegetable sitting on a bunch of carrots, I made a snap decision to coleslaw them. I was inspired by my Mother who always seems to make the slaw, but quite differently to that you can buy. Firstly, it is always to 'use up a cabbage' from her garden; secondly she enjoys the addition of some very finely shredded onion; thirdly she shreds it all by hand with a knife ,and her chopping is a work of art, honed by decades of cooking for her brood; finally she makes a very thin sauce - a skerrick of mayonnaise with generous amounts of vinegar.
Children never appreciate anything: I used to think it was altogether too wholesome without the loading of mayo. Let me assure you, it lacks nothing and is wonderfully astringent and crunchy.
My curiosity to use kohlrabi instead of cabbage - an obvious replacement, given their close cousinliness - overrode my innate aversion to hand-grating anything other than cheese. Like taking medicine, the best way is to jump straight in without thinking and soon I had reduced my washed, peeled carrots and half a kohlrabi to a bright jungle, to which I added white wine vinegar, mayonnaise and a pinch of salt.
I discovered, and fried, the last, lonely pork loin chop in the fridge to sit next to my kohlslaw* and a few cold, boiled new potatoes from another part of that fruitful, but crammed fridge.
For a collection of unwanted food stuffs, it was remarkably good: henceforth it will be one of those meals I go out of my way to buy ingredients for. Although next time I absolutely must do mashed potato to go with it - heaven!
* I was inordinately proud of this ridiculous term I thought up. Of course, on 'googling' it to check, I was reminded that there is no such thing as an original thought. My hopes hadn't been so dashed since the day I discovered several websites dedicated to gloves found in the street...
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