I was asked a very pertinent question by a friend the other day. She wasn’t being rude, but as a follower of my foodandfinds facebook/twitter feed, she just wanted to know why she should rate my opinion about food? It got me thinking. It’s not like I’m professionally trained, but I have worked on developing my palate for decades and make a point of trying as many new places as I can. The reason why I publish what I think is to spread the word when I like what I eat and drink. I’m not saying my opinion is gospel, but it is honest and I only talk about the good stuff. If you don’t see a place mentioned, it’s either because I haven’t been there yet or I have, and was disappointed. It’s tough enough to make a living selling food, but I for one, want to have as many choices as possible. That’s why I share my food opinions with you, and why I thoroughly welcome your feedback.
I might think of myself as a woman with a sophisticated palate..something I’ve worked on developing for many years, but why is it that sometimes only the most low-brow, one dimensional convenience food will hit the spot? I’m talking chicken supernoodles (full-fat version, of course); ambrosia tinned rice and custard; potato waffles and birds eye fish finger sandwiches made with white plastic bread.
I think it’s the fact that I am a child of the 1970s; the golden era of the dinner and dessert in packets. I remember Sunday lunches being rounded off with Arctic Roll and bought flan cases filled with tinned fruit and Quick-Jel, accompanied by a cheeky drizzle of topped Carnation milk. My mother thought these desserts were much more sophisticated than the weekday apple crumbles and homemade custard she whipped up in a matter of minutes. Obviously it became ingrained somewhere in my young psyche that shop-bought was better than home-made, and even after decades of worshipping at the altar of local, seasonal and organic, sometimes I can’t deny the lure of the lurid.
This “appreciation” of the synthetic occasionally manifests itself as a craving; an itch that must be scratched..which is why tonight for dinner, it’s a Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie….can’t wait to taste that flabby bit of pastry immediately underneath the crust. I bet you want some now too…
On Saturdays I like to bake. But I’m impatient, and I don’t like having to wait around for dough to prove or pastry to chill, so I’ve found the answer to my prayers in the muffin.
You can knock them up in a matter of minutes and they really lend themselves to seasonal variations. Today, I went out to get the last of the blackberries (the vodka for Christmas is doing nicely, thank you), and I returned with about 500g.
I adapted Nigella’s blueberry recipe…300g of blackberries instead…then I added some lemon zest and a little grated apple…a spoonful of demerera on top and they were ready to go. Nigella puts sour cream and vegetable oil into hers…pear and ginger, apple and cinnamon….you name it, and it’s a great tip. They stay moist for days.
Twenty-five minutes later and the brambly mega muffins were ready to cool. They were so good with a cup of Marks and Spencers Extra Strong tea.
What did I do with the other 200g? A mini kilner of more blackberry vodka, of course! I have a darling little empty bottle that will be just right to hold a quarter litre come December!
What’s next on my foraging list? Well, the elderberries are out soon and I have some new jam jars from Carraig Donn, so I’m going to make Paula McIntyre’s elderberry and port jelly from her fantastic cookbook A Kitchen Year
I love my steak, but there’s only one cut I’ll entertain. It’s always beautifully marbled with fat, full of beefy flavour and responds so well to my preferred method of cooking it.
I leave it out at room temperature. Then as I heat up the frying pan to smoking hot, with a little olive oil..I season with rock salt and freshly ground pepper (Wynad if I’m feeling extra extravagant)..then straight onto the pan with a satisfying sizzle. It caramelises almost immediately. I give it no more than a minute before turning it over to get the same on the other side…then rest it in a warm place for 5 minutes and serve with dauphinoise and mashed turnip in winter or salad and twice cooked chips in summer.
It is perfect washed down with a young red, and so far superior to tasteless, over-priced fillet or tough-as-old-boots sirloin.
If you’re going to fry steak, it’s the only way to go!
I have a confession to make. It may shock those who know me. They probably imagine me in my kitchen, surrounded by gadgets and gizmos, all of them in regular use. The reality is, I am a kitchen luddite. There, I’ve said it!
I may spend my working day tweeting, facebooking, editing complex radio packages and studio producing two and a half hour programmes, but when it comes to the kitchen, I’m as low-tech as it gets.
I have a selection of knives, a whisk, a spatula, some pans, measuring spoons and a pestle and mortar and that, apart from a broken Delia-recommended mini-chopper, is pretty much it.
I have tried to get with the programme. I do want a Kitchen Aid in a funky colour and a blowtorch, but the one big piece of kit I do own is still in the box.
Yes, my Kenwood food processor has been sitting in my utility room for the past three years. It sits there on the worktop, greeting me with a mocking glance every time I open the back door.
It bears a delivery note from Debenhams wedding service complete with a note from the benefactors, Dace and Laima. It reads…”Barbara, marriage is a serious business which needs a serious present.” They’re right. When I put the aforementioned all-singing, all-dancing item on my wedding list, I was sure it would be in regular use, but every time I think about christening it, I get the fear.
How will I get it all to work? What if a blade goes flying across the kitchen and stabs the baby? How will I clean it? What if I lose some of the parts? How will I get it all back in the box? The cupboard isn’t big enough for it.
You see. Excuses, excuses. All that New Orleans coleslaw as yet unmade, all those cake and bread ingredients unmixed, all those smoothies unsmoothed. I really have to get to grips with it.
So, tomorrow, I’m going to try again. The Kenwood will not beat me.
I’ll keep you posted.
I’m thinking of a surprise trip for my husband’s birthday and it got me wondering about what makes a hotel stand out from all the others?
For me, it has to be comfort. I want a really good mattress and proper pillows (with two spare in the wardrobe, please). The pillows must be of the non-feather variety and be firm, but not too firm.
If an establishment has gone to the bother of buying good pillows which don’t sag and make you go “Ahhhh” when you sink into them, it makes me think they have high standards overall, and I won’t be worrying if someone in the kitchen is sneezing on my catfish, so tp speak.
Obviously, I love my pillows at home and when I go away, I want the treat travel experience to match, or even better my own bed. i
So, where springs to mind? Well, so far, nowhere has managed to beat our honeymoon destination of Bath Priory and Spa in England. I may have been knackered after the wedding anyway, but sinking my head into that pillow enrobed in a 700 thread count case was pure heaven.
Other close contenders? Knockranny House Hotel in Westport and that darling little antica in Milan in 2002 which even had a pillow menu.
Obviously, when you go away, you want to get out and see the sights but when you think about it, you do spend quite a bit of time in a hotel room. If you don’t sneak in an afternoon nap on a mini-break, I think you really are missing the point!
I may spend most of my days chasing hard news stories..interviewing people who often have just had traumatic news…trying to work out things like how representative are the National Transitional Council of Libya?, but come the evening or coffee time, or any kind of down time, you’ll find me with something glossy in hand…contented expression on my face as I peruse the pages that promise me all sorts of lovely things to covet, show me places I will want to visit and tempt me with photos of stunningly styled food.
I know I won’t be able to do all of them right now, or even in the next year, but they’ll be there on file..literally! Sad person that I am, and having finally realised I can’t hold on to every issue of Easy Living, Lonely Planet, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful, She, Red, Elle, Woman and Home, Spanish HOLA!, Period Ideas, Country Living (getting the picture yet?) for ever, I tear out what I definitely want to do, visit, eat and file them in my pink paisley print ring binder (there are others, always from Paperchase). I find this especially useful for the weekend supplements. Stella and the Guardian magazine tearouts are many. Observer Food Monthly, though, has its own shelf.
You know what? I need a library! I just love the gloss!
Those who know me, and above all, my husband, know how cranky I get if I don’t have my morning coffee. I see it as an absolute essential in life, but it must be perfect. These days, you can get excellent coffee in Ireland, but there are still places where you have to send back inferior americanos. I’ve also lost count of the number of times sneaky, ill-informed baristas have tried to charge me almost five euro because I ask for a double shot. Philistines! People may call me fussy, but this is how I like it.
Double shot, hot water on the side and cold milk. I like my caffeine shot to be strong and in a large, white cup. I detest mugs and can’t abide those long, handled glasses.
It must have a caffe crema layer and then I add my milk and one white sugar. I flick through the papers…watch the world around me and relax into the day.
I must be in a cafe…Soul Food or Harlem in Belfast are my usuals…Cafe Revive in Galway or Pedro’s in Tuam if I’m in the West… Part of the appeal is the social aspect…a relic of my time in Spain…speaking of which, I will drink coffee ANYWHERE in my beloved Espana…they have it nailed, simple as.
I can’t tell you how thankful I am for St George’s Market. Having visited many others…Borough in London…Bristol, Bridport…La Boqueria in Barcelona..Union Square in NYC…I just think we have the edge on location, the building itself and the sheer quality and variety of the produce.
I like nothing better than my Saturday morning stroll around…nibbling tasty morsels of cheese or cake and then sitting down to a yummy brunch of tapas or falafel or crepes or if I’ve been out the night before, a big bacon roll…with a coffee…listening to live music..it’s just a great atmosphere.
Then I pick up something for dinner and stock up for the week ahead…I always get some seasonal herbs and greens..something bready/cakey/cheesy and maybe fishy…
There’s a Barbara Allen print of a lobster with my name on it too….
Long may St George’s grow and prosper
