Learning to love broad beans/Five spice quail

I've always had a tricky relationship with broad beans.

I've always known that I am supposed to love them. They are, after all, one of the real delights of summer. I've always loved the idea of broad beans. I even like the look of them prior to cooking - who couldn't fall for that lovely furry nest that protects and encloses them?

I remember that as a child, broad beans were proffered as a real treat. I was supposed to feel lucky to have the greying shrivelled up things nestling upon my plate.

Trouble is, I didn't feel too lucky. In fact, I felt distinctly unlucky. What had I done to deserve such horrible vegetables? Why couldn't I just have peas instead?

Ever since, I have shunned the broad bean. It has had no place in my kitchen. Until now, that is. Just recently I had something of a eureka moment. I was a guest at a lunch party and upon picking up the menu, my heart sunk somewhat. I forget what kind of fish was being served, but I can remember all too clearly that the seasonal sauce was broad bean-based. I thought that I could perhaps politely push the offending beans to one side or hide them under a bit of discarded fish skin. When the dish arrived, however, I was surprised to see how bright and pretty the broad beans looked. None of the wrinkled greyness I had come to loathe. The verdict? Delicious, of course.

What had happened, you see, is that the chefs had peeled the beans after cooking them. A thankless task, they may have grumbled as they peeled enough broad beans for 200-odd people. But I, for one, am hugely thankful. I have at long last discovered the joy that is a fresh broad bean. Before I get all evangelical on the subject of the peeled broad bean, allow me to demonstrate the obvious. Which of the below looks more tempting to you?

The grey wrinkly thing with its tough skin, or the lovely bright green thing? I rest my case.

I was having a bad day yesterday. The sun was shining, it was the weekend, I'm off on holiday next week - what on earth could be wrong? I was stuck inside working. And today, I'm stuck inside working too. It is my own fault, of course. I've been foolish enough to book a week's holiday and we all know what that means, don't we? Desperately trying to fit two weeks' work into one to make up for the week that we'll miss. This time I am determined to get it all done before I go so that I can properly relax and enjoy myself.

To make up for the bad weekend, I decided to treat myself to a really special meal in the garden. Unusually for a Saturday, it was just me, but I wasn't going to let that stop me from making an effort. At six thirty, I took myself outside with a glass of wine and set to work podding the beans and topping and tailing gooseberries for dessert (more on that later). I felt suddenly completely summery - there is something about podding beans or shelling peas outdoors that seems timeless. The epitome of English summertime. I then made a marinade for a little quail that I'd picked up at the butcher and sat back with the papers and a little plate to nibble on: parma ham and manchego cheese drizzled with a little honey. Heaven...

As for the quail, I followed a Nigel Slater recipe from The Kitchen Diaries. It worked out rather well. He suggested 2 quail per person and he is probably right (I find he is about most things), but I was happy with just the one seeing as I had the cheese and ham to start and gooseberry crumble for pudding. He also comments on the fact that one should not be polite when eating quail - a knife and fork will not get you far. Pick it up in your fingers and nibble away at those bones.

To go with the quail, I roasted some butternut squash in the same tin and then made a lovely side dish of broad beans with pancetta. Food, Glorious Food indeed!

Take a look in The Kitchen Diaries for the original recipe for the quail. He serves his with spinach which might be nice next time. You'll find it there on page 169. And if you still don't have the book, then you really must go out and buy it. I've said it before and I shall be certain to say it again. I really think it is my favourite cookery book. Or possibly even my favourite book full stop.

Anyway, here is my version with the quantites changed somewhat. Underneath, you will also find my recipe for the broad bean side dish. Both are easily doubled or tripled!

Nigel Slater's roasted five spice quail with butternut squash
Serves one

Ingredients -

1 or 2 oven-ready quail
1 1/2 heaped teaspoons of five spice seasoning
half a teaspoon of hot chilli powder
1 small clove garlic
juice of half a lemon
1 tablespoon of oil (I used vegetable, Nigel suggests groundnut)
flaked salt

Half a butternut squash - peeled, seeded and chopped into 1 inch chunks

1. Finely chop the garlic and place in a bowl with the seasoning, chilli powder, lemon juice and oil. Season with a little salt. Pop the quail into the bowl and rub all over with the marinade. Pop to one side for an hour or so.

2. Pre-heat oven to 200C. Drizzle a little oil into a roasting tin and pop the squash in 5-10 mins ahead of the quail. Push squash to one side and then place quail in the tin too, with a little of the marinade drizzled over the top. Rub a little more salt into the skin to help it crisp up and roast for 25 minutes until the skin is nicely browned.

Broad beans with pancetta
Serves one

Ingredients:
Handful of freshly podded broad beans
Heaped tablespoon of chopped pancetta
1 dessert spoon double cream
1 dessert spoon freshly chopped curly parsley
pepper

1. Boil broad beans for 5-10 minutes depending on size. Drain and rinse in sieve with cold water. Peel and discard those wrinkly grey skins!

2. Heat a small frying pan and add the pancetta (no need for any oil). When this is cooked and crispy, add the broad beans, cream and parsley. Season with pepper (no salt - pancetta is very salty). Heat through and serve.

Mediterranean chicken

Food shopping for one is something of a challenge. I've said it before and, no doubt, I'll feel the need to say it again. I like a little rant every now and then you see. My gripe, I'm afraid, lies with those little town centre supermarkets that are oh-so-convenient for stopping in on the way back from work. Particularly if you live in London. I do try hard to be a good little food shopper. At weekends, I go to the farmers market and the local butcher. I buy things in small, individual portions. I try to plan for the week ahead. In reality though, this is difficult and leads to waste. The week rarely goes as planned - I find I'm out a couple of nights or it gets to Wednesday and I don't really feel like the lamb chops that I'd planned.

I prefer to shop on a more regular basis - buying what I need or fancy when I need it. As I don't get home much before seven, this rules most of the local shops out during the week. Instead, it takes me to those dreaded town centre supermarkets that I mentioned earlier. Convenient in that they are open late they are, convenient in terms of stocking the things you want to buy they are not. Allow me to elaborate. Last week, I ventured tentatively into one such store in order to buy a chicken breast, a courgette, an onion or two and a potato or two and a tin of tomatoes. I came out with four chicken breasts, three courgettes, 12 onions, eight potatoes and four tins of tomatoes. What can I say, other than that by the end of the week I was sick of courgettes and chicken.

When over half the London population live alone*, I am unable to understand why these places insist on selling everything exclusively in large multi packs. It just leads to so much waste.

On second thoughts, I understand perfectly well. They make more money that way.

I know what you are thinking (did I mention that I count mind-reading amongst my many varied talents?). You are wondering why I didn't freeze the extra chicken breasts. Here I have to admit you have a point. I also have to admit to being rather disorganised - I never remember to get such things out of the freezer in the morning before heading off to work. And I could hardly freeze the potatoes, onions or courgettes, could I? (Please don't get all clever on me at this point and tell me how I could have cooked and mashed and frozen, or chopped and frozen in ice-cube trays or what-have-you. It sounds like a marvellous idea for those with plenty of time on their hands. Like most of us, I don't fall into that category).

So. Instead, I've been eating a lot of chicken and courgette dishes over the past week. The first of these is a favourite of mine. I think the original recipe concept came from a Leith's book belonging to my mother. I make it slightly differently each time, but the basics are below.

All the flavours make me think of the strong flavours of Mediterranean holidays. Or Italian holidays for that matter. Chicken cooked in a lovely herby ratatouille-type sauce and then topped with mozzarella grilled until all stringy and lovely. Sometimes I throw olives into the sauce towards the end of cooking, but on this occasion, I made a black olive mash which was rather good.

I've actually made this twice recently - hence some of the photos show lots of chicken breasts and the finished article shows just one lonely piece of chicken! Here is a recipe for four. If you want to make it for one, I'd be inclined to make the same amount of sauce. You can then use the remaining sauce for pasta. Or, if you are more organised than me, you could freeze it for another time!

Mediterranean chicken
Serves 4

Ingredients

4 chicken breasts, skin removed
2 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons fresh chopped tarragon
olive oil
1 large onion or 4 shallots
1 courgette
half an aubergine
1 tin chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp tomato puree
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp thyme
1/2 pint chicken stock
Small bunch basil
4 slices of mozzarella

1. First make the tomato sauce. Chop the onions and sweat in a little olive oil. When translucent, add diced courgette and aubergine. Season well.

2. Once vegetables are starting to soften, stir in tomato paste and cook for a minute or so. Add tinned tomatoes, sugar and thyme. Stir and then add around half of the stock. Simmer for 15-20 minutes - top up with stock as necessary. You want a pouring consistency but not too watery.

3. Whilst the sauce is bubbling away, prepare the chicken breasts. Pre-heat oven to 180C. Finely chop garlic and tarragon and spread all over chicken with your hands. Add salt and pepper too.

4. Heat some olive oil in a non-stick frying pan and then add the chicken. Brown for a couple of minutes on each side, then set to one side.

5. Place chicken breasts into an ovenproof dish. Taste the tomato sauce and adjust seasoning if necessary. Pour over the chicken breasts and cover with foil. Bake for 25 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce bubbling.

6. Pre-heat grill to high. Place slice of mozzarella over each chicken breast and grill until melted and bubbling. Garnish with basil.

For black olive mash:
Mash cooked potatoes with olive oil and lots of chopped black olives. Season with pepper but go easy on the salt - olives have plenty of salt already!

Notes - Vary the sauce according to what ingredients you may have to hand. Add red peppers, different herbs, black olives etc. Or use a different cheese. I actually used Parmesan as I had no mozzarella. It wasn't quite as good, but it worked fine.

* This is one of those great statistics that I once read and now cannot remember where I read it. Or find it through the usually trusty google search. Perhaps I just made it up. I have found something that states that 30% of people lived alone in the UK in 2001. A significant minority indeed. Likely to be more in big cities. Not only are we bad for the environment, apparently we like to feed ourselves exclusively on ready meals. What a sad lot we are made out to be!

Salmon with pea and courgette risotto

I hate going to the hairdresser. It is an experience that should be all lovely and yet all too often turns out at best disappointing or at worst humiliating. My reasons for disliking the experience are numerous and they usually begin with the person who washes my hair. It is clear that she is designed to make me feel like a social failure. The inevitable question crops up: 'Going out tonight?'/'Doing anything this weekend?'/'Been anywhere nice on holiday lately?'. My response to these questions is invariably a resounding 'no'. The reason for this is that I tend to go to the hairdresser on an evening when I have no other plans (hence I have the time to go). I always feel like yelling 'no, but I did go out last night' or 'no, but I did go to Venice last weekend' just so they know that I do actually have an interesting, exciting and fulfilling life. But I don't, of course.

Then there is the moment when the hairdresser asks me what I want. I want to say 'new hair', but don't. Instead I mumble something about 'similar to last time, a bit shorter'. But this doesn't matter. The hairdresser will do what he or she likes. Irrespective of what I want. Or so it seems. He/She then sets to work. I can tell it is going wrong almost immediately, but because I am too British to complain (and because I know nothing about hairdressing) I grin and bear it. After applying a considerable amount of 'product' (never understood why it can't be 'products' in the plural) and subjecting me to much heat and hair pulling, the hairdresser grins and asks if I am happy. He/She seems to think I look fabulous. Being British, I grin like a madwoman and say 'yes, its marvellous, thank you so much'. More fool me. I then race back home, praying I won't bump into anyone I know, grab a hairbrush and brush it all out. On occasion I've gone further and washed and re-done it altogether. And of course I pay through the nose for this wonderful experience.

All this has nothing to do with food. But I needed to get it off my chest. And before anyone suggests that I should get a new hairdresser, I've tried. My chosen salon of torture is the best I've come across so far - they even give you wine to soothe the pain if you go in the evening. But, back to food. After the latest haystack-on-head horror, I felt the need for comfort. And this is where risotto comes in...


Now here comes a confession. I'm not overly keen on rice.

I know, I know... How can I possibly say that I'm not keen on rice? Isn't that like saying I'm not keen on pasta? Surely it depends on the type of rice, the way it is prepared etc, etc? I'm afraid not. I quite simply am not that keen on rice. There are a few rice dishes I enjoy. Kedgeree, for example. And I love (really love) rice pudding. In particular, I hate the smell of boiled or steamed white rice. It really turns my stomach. Odd, isn't it?

Recently, I've been trying to love risotto. Everyone else seems to love it, find it comforting, so why don't I? I always find that I feel really bloated after even the smallest bit of risotto. But I'm determined. I will learn to love it!

I have had a few versions that I've enjoyed - a great friend makes a lovely courgette risotto and I have had a couple of wonderful pea risottos. So, I decided to give it a go and make a little pea and courgette risotto to accompany a bit of salmon.

I have made risotto before, but its been a long time. I was rather put off when someone told me that there was 'simply no point' in making risotto unless you had proper stock. I know how much better it would be with proper stock but I think I did a fairly reasonable job with the pretend stuff!

The risotto worked pretty well and had a deliciously sweet pea flavour. It did seem to take a very long time for the rice to cook through, for some reason. Perhaps I was being a little cautious with the heat. In any case, this sadly resulted in rather overcooked salmon as you'll see from the photos. Overall though, a success.

Pea and courgette risotto
Serves 2







Ingredients

1 tablespoon olive oil
knob of butter
1 leek, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 heaped mug full of frozen or fresh peas
4 tablespoons double cream
1 courgette chopped into small cubes
200g arborio rice
1 litre good quality vegetable stock
Parmesan

1. Heat oil and butter in a large saucepan and sweat the leeks and garlic.

2. Meanwhile, boil the peas and drain. Add double cream and liquidise until you have a slightly lumpy puree - season well and set to one side.


3. Once the leeks and garlic are softened, add the courgette and continue to cook until beginning to soften.

4. Add the rice and stir to coat in all the buttery oil. Meanwhile pour stock into a saucepan and set on a gently heat so stock is kept hot.

5. After the rice has been frying for a couple of minutes, add a ladleful of stock. It should sizzle. Stir until the liquid has been absorbed.

6. Keep adding the stock a ladle at a time, stirring continuously in between each addition and waiting until the stock has been absorbed until adding the next ladlefull. This should in theory take around 20 minutes.

7. Once all the stock has been added, test the rice. It should have puffed up nicely and be tender but still with just a little bite. At this point remove from heat and stir in the pea puree. Grate a good handful of Parmesan too and stir this into the oozy mixture.

8. Serve immediately, perhaps topped with a fillet of salmon!

NOTES: You may like to add some mint to your pea puree, if that sort of thing floats your boat!

Happy Valentine's Day - Nice Matters

Well, I'd like to start by wishing everyone a very Happy Valentine's Day. This is big of me, I think, as I'm not a fan of Valentine's Day. This is because I am single, you see. I feel like the whole day is designed to torture us singletons who have to journey home on the tube sandwiched between lucky ladies smugly holding their oversized bouquets of flowers. Not that I'm bitter, you understand (!!) Of course, on the occasions that I have been in a relationship on the 14th February, I have thought totally differently and throughly enjoyed the journey home with my bunch of flowers (although I still maintain that spontaneous romance is much more... romantic). To show you that I don't really bear a grudge, I've even made a heart-shaped chocolate mousse to mark the occasion. I'll be posting about the chocolate mousse at a later date so watch this space.

So far Valentine's Day has gone according to the usual plan - the post has arrived and I have received my usual three cards. One from my Mother who has cunningly tried to disguise her hand writing. The Isle of Wight postmark slightly gives it away though. The next is from a dear friend whose name I won't mention, but whose dog has featured on the pages of this blog. Again there is the cunningly disguised writing (that is all too easy to spot) and the card is homemade. It is so sweet and lovely and homemade that it could only be from her. Finally, another elaborate disguise with swirly writing from another friend that could have been a mystery had she not posted the card at the same moment as a thank you letter - same post mark, same time. Still, I feel touched and lucky to have such sweet and caring friends and family. You know who you are and I thank you! Who need men, huh?! I have no doubt that my own elaborate attempts and handwriting disguising will also have failed miserably!

Anyway, in the spirit of Valentine's Day, I wanted to tell you how thrilled I was to be awarded the 'Nice Matters' blog award by one of my very favourite bloggers - Rosie from 'Rosie bakes a 'peace' of cake'. Rosie spends her days baking the most mouthwatering creations - if you haven't visited her blog yet, you are definately missing out. You really are in for a freshly-baked treat. Thank you Rosie for this award - I feel very honoured to receive it.

I get to pass this award onto a few fellow bloggers. There are so many I could nominate for different reasons and Rosie has already passed it on to many of my favourites. I've managed to narrow it down though and have chosen bloggers who really take the time and effort to engage and interact with their readers...

Wendy of A Wee Bit of Cooking. Her posts always make me laugh and she cooks food that I really want to eat. She also has a very gorgeous-looking dog featured in her latest post which is almost as droolworthy as her food.

Julia from A Slice of Cherry Pie because she has set up and maintains a great food forum on her blog and also the UK Food Bloggers Association . Two great initiatives uniting the UK food blogging community.

David Hall from Book the Cook. I'm guessing that the floral logo may not quite be his thing, but I am full of admiration of his dedication to British produce and teaching children about eating well.

Fred and Ginger of Dinner Diary. Great pictures and delicious-looking food that I actually want to cook.

To thank Rosie for bestowing this award, I thought I should bake something to 'share' with her. I chose some simple plain biscuits that can be whizzed up at a moment's notice with ingredients you probably already have in the cupboard. You can either eat them warm, straight from the oven when they are soft a slighly squidgy, or keep them in an airtight container for a few days. They will harden up but are just perfect for dunking in a cup of tea for 'elevenses' because homemade cookies are better every time.

Storecupboard cookies

Makes approx 24

Ingredients -

Basic dough mixture...

5oz butter

4oz caster sugar (I used golden caster sugar)

8oz self-raising flour

1 egg, beaten

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

2 tsp vanilla essence

Flavourings...

chopped up dark, milk or white chocolate

raisins or sultanas

cherries

crystillised ginger

Anything else you can think of, really...!

1. Pre-heat oven to 180C and grease a baking sheet. Cream butter and sugar together until light in colour. Mix in the egg.

2. Sift the flour with the salt and baking powder and fold into the mixture (you can do all of this in a food processor).

3. Add vanilla essence and your chosen flavourings (I added chopped up chocolate to one half and raisins to the other half)

4. Take heaped teaspoons of mixture, roll into balls and flatten on baking sheet, leaving space for cookies to expand.

5. Bake for 8-10 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

Creamy pesto chicken

One of my favourite food websites is BBC Good Food. Not only does it house thousands upon thousands of brilliant recipes, it also has interesting sections on seasonal and local food, healthy eating and now it even has its own blog with various guest writers. I often find myself browsing the site at around 4.50pm, looking for inspiration for the evening meal so that I can pick up the ingredients on the way back from work.

One of the 'problems' with living in London is the lack of decent-sized supermarkets. This may sound rather a strange thing to say - we actually have plenty. But for me, most are a drive away and getting the car out in London just to go to the supermarket for a few 'bits' is a frustrating a time-consuming activity. What am I moaning about, I hear you ask? We have countless wonderful food shops, smaller versions of supermarkets round every corner. Too true. I am indeed spoilt for choice at the weekend - great farmers markets and specialist shops where I can take my time and select wonderful produce. But during the week, I don't get home until seven. All these lovely shops are closed and I'm not nearly organised enough to plan ahead (things come up and I HATE wasting food). So, I'm stuck with the Sainsburys Locals and Tesco Metros of this world. Great for convenience but hopeless when it comes to food you actually want to eat. They assume that if you live on your own, you will live on a diet of ready meals. Meat is all packaged for families of four (I have occasional spurts of cooking large batches and freezing individual portions but never remember to get them out of the freezer). They also assume you want to eat only chicken, mince or salmon. As for vegetables; broccoli, courgettes and carrots. Heaven forbid you might want to pick up a bottle of wine - the choice is simply appalling. Just how many £5.99 Australian Chardonnays do you need? You want something a little more expensive? Ah, you'll be after the Tesco Finest Chablis then.


I'm ranting. I know. I should be grateful that I can at least get to a shop at that time of day. Besides, you can do no end of delicious things with chicken and courgettes, right? Whilst looking for ideas last night, I happened upon this recipe for 'Summer in Winter Chicken'. Chicken with a creamy pesto sauce studded with softened cherry tomatoes. Just the thing - comforting yet housing nice fresh flavours. Of course I was too optimistic, the local shop had no cherry tomatoes. I decided to meddle (as I am want to do) and threw in sun dried tomatoes. The ubiquitous family-sized pack of courgettes was also beckoning so I added some of those and a handful of frozen peas for good measure. The result was rather more delicious than I had expected. This will be a regular fixture on the mid-week menu, I suspect. It tastes rather creamily wicked, but I used half-fat creme fraiche and only a spoonful. Not that bad after all.

I must make a quite note about the mash that I served with this (comfort all the way, you see). I picked up a (family-sized) bag of Vivaldi potatoes and made the best mash EVER, without using any butter. Fear not, this was not intentional. When I got to the mashing moment, I discovered I had no butter. Disaster. Mash without butter? That is like Coke without caffeine or Summer without sun. Feeling pretty upset, I drizzled in a little olive oil and a splash of milk and mashed away. They really were some of the best mashed potatoes I have ever eaten. I was amazed. I then fished out the bag and read on the packaging that these potatoes are 'so creamy they can be mashed without butter'. Too true my friends, too true. So for those hoping to lighten up after the Christmas excess, may I heartily recommend that you head to your local 'Sainsbury's Local' and buy yourselves a family pack of their 'Taste the Difference Vivaldi Potatoes'. So. They are good for one thing.

Creamy Pesto Chicken with Courgettes and Sun-Dried Tomatoes
Serves 2

2 skinless, boneless chicken breasts
Tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoon green pesto
2 tablespoons creme fraiche (can be half fat)
1 courgette, sliced into thin half moons
3 tablespoons chopped sun-dried tomatoes
1 large handful of frozen peas
1 small glass white wine
salt and pepper

1. Heat oil in a large non-stick frying pan and fry chicken breasts on one side for around 10 minutes, until nicely coloured (do not move around pan - just leave in the centre).

2. Turn over and cook on other side for 10-15 minutes until cooked through. After 5 minutes add the courgettes to the pan.

3. When chicken is nearly done, throw in the white wine and the peas. Allow to bubble down and reduce by around two thirds. Throw in the tomatoes and soften for a couple of minutes.


4. Stir the pesto into the pan and turn to a low heat. Add the creme fraiche and mix well to coat everything. Warm gently and then serve.

Notes - You could choose to grill the chicken if you prefer, though I don't think it would be quite so good as you would miss the flavour from the juices that comes from cooking everything in one pan.

The supermarket - foodie friend or foe?

I would dearly love to write here and tell you that I do all my food shopping at quaint little markets and small quality local shops. I have a lovely image in my mind of me wafting down the Northcote Road dressed in linen carrying a wicker basket filled with goodies: bread from the Lighthouse Bakery, organic meat from Dove and fresh veg from the market. It is true that I like nothing better than a food-orientated stroll down the aforementioned road in London's Battersea. In fact, it is one of my favoured weekend activities. But, alas, life is not just one long weekend. During the week most of these wonderful shops are closed by the time I get home from the daily grind and (unless I have been super organised and 'planned ahead'), if I want to eat I find myself heading to the dreaded supermercado.

Whilst supporting local businesses is something I wholeheartedly encourage, it is sadly not always practical. Who can honestly say that the convenience factor of having everything 'under one roof' is not a godsend to the ever-busy consumer? Whilst hitting a certain large branch Sainsburys earlier today, I felt a curious melange of irritation and wonder at the retail experience I was encountering...

You may have noticed that my initial reference to the supermarket incorporated the word 'dreaded'. This is because I approach one with a certain level of dread running through my veins. The whole idea of aisles upon aisles of stuff I don't want - jumbo packs of crisps, microwavable chicken tikka, bars of chocolate the size of my head (actually, I wouldn't mind one of those!), freezers full of frozen roast dinners for one and microwavable pizzas - is enough to make me race back to the comparative safety of my car. And all the other people with their trolleys bashing into yours - ugghh. And all the marketing - glorious multi-coloured displays of things 'not on the list' that almost throw themselves into your trolley. Shelf-stickers duping you with their 'Buy one get one free' messages (read:buy one, take another home which won't fit in your fridge and will almost certainly have gone mouldy by the time you get around to eating it). Tasting samples of wine served in ridiculous plastic shot glasses. Completely and totally awful.

Despite all this, I enjoyed today's trip to Sainsburys. Sure there were too many people. Yes there were a lot of things I didn't want. But there were also an impressive number of things that I really did want. Great variety, plenty of specialist ingredients and lots of seasonal British produce. I have, in fact, just eaten a bowl of organic strawberries (from Kent) and raspberries (from Scotland). They were most delicious. Amongst the items in my trolley today were unwaxed lemons, creme de marrons, a selection of green teas, shampoo, smoked rainbow trout, sweet potatoes, a Hydrangea plant cress and sun-blush tomatoes. I still find it fairly impressive to find all these things under one roof even if the experience is rather impersonal.

Perhaps my biggest gripe on the subject of supermarkets is that they do not cater well for the single person. As a twenty-something singleton living solo I find that I produce an embarrassing amount of food waste. You simply can't buy things in portions for one - I might like a salmon fillet but I have to buy two, or one chicken breast. Perhaps I have a craving for sugar snap peas - sorry! You have buy a pack that will feed a family of four. Did I not mention that I my craving is unlikely to last for four days in a row? Apparently, over 40% of the UK population now live in single-person households - why do the supermarkets not cater for them? No doubt they would answer that they do. One only need to look at the raft of individual person ready-meals that line the aisles to see that this is where they believe they meet the needs of the busy singleton. What they have failed to realise is that they are some busy singletons that actually like to cook!

The Art of the Barbecue...

I have a confession. I am not a fan of the barbecue, per se. The moment the sun comes out the invitations start flooding in to join them for some al fresco fun and my heart sinks a little. Why? What, you may ask, could be nicer than getting back to nature, cooking in the open air?

In theory, nothing whatsoever. In fact, I love the idea. I love it so much that I even dust of my own barbie come May and start concocting elaborate marinades and debating which sort of charcoal to buy. The trouble is, however, that so many people (and I include myself in this) get it terribly, terribly wrong.

To illustrate my point, I'd like to tell you about a truly delicious barbecue I attended on Sunday. The host, an exemplary cook, got it spot on. A couple of nice chickens flattened and cut in half and a decent leg of lamb. Both respectively stuffed with herbs/studded with garlic and rosemary. On the barbecue (a large on, as you'll see above) for a sensible amount of time as we nibbled on smoked salmon on brown bread. Once cooked, the two meats were served simply with a wonderful tomatoey bean stew and/or a fresh-tasting coriander and chilli salsa (coriander, red chilli, olive oil and white wine vinegar). We finished with strawberries and cream.

So - what did this friend do right that so many people do wrong? Firstly, he can cook. Why is it that people who never normally pick up a pan miraculously transform into culinary geniuses once confronted with some hot coals and a set of tongs? What is more, he knows how to cook on a barbecue. Can anyone explain to me what is nice about food which is black and burnt on the outside and raw in the middle?



Secondly, he kept it fairly simple. Just two big bits of meat with lots of herbs. No sign of the usual burger, uncooked chicken leg, sausage medley jostled together on a plate with six different salads, not forgetting the barbecued jacket potatoes, mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise or barbecue sauce. I love a banger in a bun, don't get me wrong, but just not every weekend for the entire summer. This sort of 'everything' barbecue should be saved for the good old British seaside holiday, ideally accompanied by a few spots of rain, when there is nothing so cheering.



Thirdly, there were non barbecued elements to his meal. The starter and pudding were a refreshing contrast to the smoky flavours of the chicken and lamb.



But the key, I think, lies in keeping it simple. The most successful barbecue I have cooked recently consisted of just one meat - a high quality butterflied leg of lamb. I cut slits in it and stuffed it with a whizzed up mix of parma ham, garlic, flat leaf parsley and anchovies. Sounds odd, but it was superb. I then barbecued some corn on the cob which I topped with a chilli and coriander butter, we had a green salad and some baby potatoes on skewers. No burgers. No sausages. No choice. And all so easy - I popped the lamb on and left it. No prodding/guarding required. Though fortunately I had my furry sous-chef to keep an eye on things for me....



The secret of my recent barbecuing success (which followed years of burnt sausage failure) was in purchasing a book entirely dedicated to the subject. And what is more, I have read it. I took notice of how hot the coals should be for the kind of cooking I wanted to do (different depending on the cut of meat, for example) and tips like wiping off excess marinade before placing on the grill to prevent flare-ups and therefore preventing burning. I have been more successful (and more confident) ever since.

The book that I suggest is the following....

'Barbecue', Eric Treuille and Brigit Erath, Dorling Kindersley

Watch this space for tips on barbecue-friendly wines....

The Breakfast Rant...

I have just returned from a work-related 'jaunt' to Scotland where I was hosting wine tastings in Perth and Glasgow. I travel a fair bit with work and am fairly well-versed in the grottiest hotels in the UK. In fact, I feel another blog coming on...
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When staying away from home on a regular basis for business you reach a stage where you develop a mental checklist of requirements for your hotel room/facilities. Sadly most of the hotels that fall within the work budget do not meet my exacting standards (!). Actually, I think my needs are fairly simple - a spotless room, a bath as well as a shower, an iron, tea-making facilites and somewhere to put my suitcase.
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Clearly I have a few items on the checklist relating to breakfast. Again, I am a simple soul. I do not need the 'full works' (I am round enough as it is, I can assure you. Never trust a skinny cook!). Just some toast, fruit and perhaps a yoghurt. Surely you can't go wrong here? Unfortunately, dear reader, you can. Jam. It all boils down to jam. Why oh why oh why do certain establishments insist on those horrendous plastic individual portions of jam/marmalade? So awful. I judge a place almost entirely on the jam containers. A small individual glass jar - perfect. A horrible plastic excuse for a pot - urgh.
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The next problem is Marmite. Or rather, the lack of it. I would hazard that a high proportion of the British population enjoy a slice of toast with Marmite for breakfast. So why do no hotels serve Marmite amongst their plastic containers of jam/honey/marmalade? What about those of us who prefer a savoury spread in the morning? I am even prepared to eat it out of one of the aforementioned plastic containers (do you know the ones I mean? They have nasty plastic film that you peel back to reveal the lurid shimmering artificial jam that has never been acquainted with a raspberry).
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Why the picture at the top of this post? This is the breakfast menu from my otherwise charming Perth hotel. My question is this. What on earth would happen if I wanted - god forbid - to have sausage and scrambled egg for breakfast? Would all hell break loose in the kitchen?