Something different

The establishment I work in turns 250 this year. I have often wondered what it would have been like to work here then, how it would have been run and what life in general would have been like in 1762. I am intrigued by Hogarth's "A Rake's Progress", a most fascinating social record from the same era of what happens when it goes wrong, how easy it must have been to fall by the wayside, corrupted and misguided by those out to take advantage. It charts the descent into eventual madness of a young gentleman, given too much money and not enough advice on how to manage it. In certain respects, life hasn't really changed that much. The glossy magazines of today are full of such stories, only in this day and age those fallen from grace are from different social circles and the Priory has replaced Bedlam! I just wonder who would be commissioned to paint the 21st century version?


The Heir - The first in Hogarth's series of paintings "A Rake's Progress"

I am thinking about starting a sub-blog, writing about a character of the age, periodically dipping in to the life of my Georgian alter ego.

For the purposes of this exercise I will give this character every possible advantage, somewhat similar to the the kind of gentry who would have been a member of a Gentlemens' Club back then. However, I have not decided if he will be a kindly soul or a bounder and a cad!

He is the third son of His Grace, The Duke of Hardenwaye, the family having been ennobled countless times through the generations for vanquishing the foes of which ever Monarch reigned at the time. He is titled and privileged certainly, however not in line to inherit anything except for a collection of Elizabethan chamber pots handed down from a previous third son so that all future third sons may still have the proverbial pot to piss in!

As is the way in noble families, the eldest son stays in the shadow of the father, learning all the necessary skills to be able to take over the reins and run the various estates and the house. Quiverin' Thigh Hall sits in the middle of 80,000 glorious acres spread over Gloucestershire and Wiltshire, on the edge of the picturesque and staunchly Royalist village of Greater Thrustwell, from where the family takes its name. A further 30,000 acres of grouse moor and deer stalking in Scotland, swathes of central London and the obligatory coffee and sugar plantations in the West Indies ensure that the Thrustwells are one the foremost families in the land. Piracy and criminal endeavour of any kind has always been frowned upon. Great-Uncle Percival, however, was cut from altogether a different kind of cloth. "Bloody Percy" as he was known, died on the gallows for an unrecorded crime, riddled with syphilis, in some heathen backwater of the Orient. He was indeed the sort of miscreant who would have turned his privateering hand to most things dubious for the price of glass of port and a women of low morals! Every family must have its black sheep!

The second son has always had a life in the forces. The Thrustwells have always favoured the land, becoming renowned soldiers, leading by example. The collection of standards, eagles and other war like trophies festooning the walls of the Great Hall is testament to the family feelings for Johnny Foreigner, regardless of which corner of the world he is from. The daring heroics of the local regiment are the very actions that get poets all excited and women all breathless and reaching for the smelling salts whilst at the same time, loosening their corsets. Young men throughout the Empire will be shouting "Up the Thrusters! Huzzah!" Home is laden with portraits by the very finest artists of the day, portraits of proud men on sturdy horses, slaughtering countless heathens in foreign lands with nothing but cold steel and an elevated eyebrow! Sometimes, when wandering the long halls at Quiverin' Thigh, one could easily be mistaken for thinking that these ancestors were just on one long jaunt around the known, and sometimes unknown, world to collect furniture and paintings and other trinkets to grace the trophy cabinets, butchering the shopkeepers and market traders for having the sheer audacity to charge for their wares!

The third son is usually expected to join the cloth, hopefully to serve as Archbishop in a cathedral city but in reality, far more likely to settle for administering to the family and estate workers in the local church on Sundays. The rest of the week spent in the arms of which ever serving wench is closest! The estate is full of the bastard offspring of many previous Reverends Thrustwell, without exception all well known lovers of the ladies and regular visitors to the milking parlour to ravish the young maidens employed within!

So, you can well see that Lord Rufus Thrustwell could end up going either way. What will he become? Will he be a sainted individual, all pious and with the well being of his fellow man at heart or is he to become the Flashman of his day?



Please leave any suggestions you may have for this chap, that is of course if you want the saga to continue? I will also be including recipes and other interesting, and yet at the same time totally useless facts from the era in future posts. I hope you enjoy.

It's the fort that counts.

For those of you who read Friday's post, you will know that today was Freddie's Birthday party. We had the most superb day, lots of games and jolly japes and barely a tantrum in sight! All the little pirates, knights and princesses left in one piece, a sure sign that all went well.

The cake was an engineering masterpiece and inspired as much ooohing and aaahing as anything that Jane Asher could produce. We used our fall back sponge recipe (as given in Friday's post), the chocolate edition, smothered with chocolate butter cream and fortified with chocolate fingers and Matchmakers. Freddie didn't know where to start. Congratulations Mrs. P, yet another triumph!!

Miracle of miracles - I got the food quantities right! Just enough for happy children. The parents managed to get a small plateful as well, so the tradition of eating curled sandwiches for the next couple of days is mercifully skipped this year!

Rather surprisingly the house didn't look like a bomb had gone, just a mild skirmish! But I suppose that is the price you pay for having a party at home, and let me tell you, it is a price well worth paying! 30 minutes of clearing up and washing up while the children played with new toys, a battlement or two of cake washed down by a nice hot cuppa and all is well with the world!

Freddie and Fenella are now, at last, asleep! We are now sitting down, very strong G and T in hand, choosing what to watch on the box before giving in to fatigue and chocolate overload, Top Gear or the Antiques Roadshow? Maybe I will just watch the inside of my eye lids instead!

I hope you all have a good week.

Oh Happy Day!

Yesterday was our son's fourth birthday. We actually needed to wake him up, although not really surprising as the excitement of being four stopped him sleeping the night before! Mid week birthdays in term time are frantic affairs. Getting up and dressed, doing teeth, washing face and brushing hair, eating breakfast and making sure packed lunches are ready, all of this for two children, is hard enough on a normal morning. When you throw in a lorry load of presents, Grandparents phoning to sing "Happy Birthday", Godparents phoning to say "It's in the post", huge amounts of excitement and the production line of Birthday treat blueberry pancakes, it was a miracle we ever left the house at all!

No Daddy, there is not a mute button!

Freddie is a standard four year old boy. He is the most fantastic little chap with a great personality, and yet at the same time is as mischievous as a bus full of monkeys and has the demolition ability of Semtex! Oh, and he's loud! So, the best thing we could have given him would have been something small, soft and quiet. Well, needless to say, that never happened. Instead we gave him an electric keyboard with 20 sound effects, flashing lights and a microphone just in case his vocal chords alone can't reach the desired decibel level! Oh, and thank you to my (and I hesitate to use this word any more) friend who told Freddie that the best thing to do with his keyboard is to wake Mummy and Daddy up very early on a Saturday morning by playing it next to our bed!

We are having a Knights, Pirates and Princess party for him on Sunday so the artistic cake skills will be tested this weekend - we are going to attempt a fort with liberal quantities of chocolate fingers, mini-rolls and imagination! I shall add a photo at a later date. For tea on the day however, we bought a Lightning McQueen cake. It looked like the sort of cake that could keep an entire class full of children on a sugar rush for days - the label, however, assured me, the nervous parent, that there is nothing artificial in it. Not convinced, but I thought the joy in his eyes when he sees an edible version of his favourite character would be worth the potential sugar rush! As it happened, the rush never came.

Tomorrow morning I will do the weekly shop in my own usual fashion to stock up on all the various components for the party tea, sandwich stuff, hula hoops, party rings, cucumber, cherry tomatoes and lots of fruit. Over the years, we have learnt that children don't eat a huge amount. We usually have a mountain of food left over, so this year I am determined to produce just enough. That said, I know I will either end up with ten starving children or sending them all home with enough food for the next week! There will be no middle ground!

I am sure from the content of previous blogs you have all figured out that I love cooking and being in the kitchen. Unfortunately, whilst I can produce soufflés and sauces and all manner of complicated dishes, I am the world's worst baker. My wife, on the other hand, produces the most airy cakes and treats. She is the one who does the birthday cakes, combining the skills of Mrs. Beeton with the organising ability of Wellington and the artistic flair of Rembrandt! I know my place and tend to stay away until called for. It is just safer that way!

Some years ago cake making was hugely simplified when Mrs. P was given a very easy to follow recipe which produces consistently light and fluffy sponges. It can also be readily adapted for different flavours. Another great added bonus is you only need one bowl and one spoon, so less time spent washing up and that means more time eating lovely homemade cake! Yippee!

This will produce two thin-ish 8 inch cakes that can be sandwiched together.

1.    Pre-heat the oven to 180° or 160° if you have a fan oven.

2.    Grease and line two 8 inch cake tins.

3.    Weigh three eggs in the shell.

4.    Weigh out the same of self raising flour, caster sugar and normal flora. The other lighter or cholesterol free versions won't work. You can use softened butter, but I find that somehow the result is not as good. Flora makes for a lighter and altogether more fluffy sponge.

5.    Sieve the flour, beat together with the eggs, sugar and flour with a wooden spoon. Do not over beat.

6.    When all the ingredients are incorporated, divide between the two cake tins.

7.    Cook for 15 - 20 minutes, checking with a skewer to make sure it is done.

8.    Take out of the oven and place on a cooling rack. Leave the cakes to cool in the tins.

We also use this recipe, with less eggs, for cup cakes. Adding some colouring makes for jolly cupcakes and jolly children!

You can add the zest and juice of either one orange or one lemon to the mix for a great citrus cake.

If you like coffee cake, add 50ml strong coffee to the mix. Some chopped walnuts at the same time would add another dimension to the finished cake.

If you just want a plain sponge, add some vanilla extract to give it a great lift.

For a chocolate cake, replace 25g of flour with 25g of cocoa powder.

The above are all for a three egg cake. Adjust the quantities if you're are using more or less eggs.

As for the icing and decoration, I will leave it up to you as the possibilities are endless.

I hope you all have a good weekend and for anyone celebrating a birthday or other special occasion, enjoy!

Flipping 'eck!

Happy Shrove Tuesday. Today is the day when you eat far too many pancakes and then give them up until Easter. I have never managed to give up anything for Lent so I thought to myself that this year will be different. I can do it! I took a look at what I could forgo and discovered surprisingly little! I gave up smoking last year, barely drink anymore and Weight Watchers have seen off all cakes, decent bread, chocolate and butter and, therefore, I have reluctantly come to the conclusion that this year maybe I should take up something for Lent. Now that is a long list!!

Anyway, diet aside, I will no doubt partake of just one wafer thin pancake, with maybe a squeeze of orange. I have always preferred orange to lemon on a pancake, there is also the added bonus that you don't need sugar. Yippee, that's another point saved!

I will give a choice of pancakes today, both very easy to make. The first is Michel Roux's recipe. It is richer than the second, but well worth it and don't we all deserve a treat every now and then?

125g plain flour

15g caster sugar

Pinch of salt
2 eggs
325ml milk
100ml double cream
You should get 16 - 18 pancakes from this

Mix all the dry ingredients with the eggs and whisk well.
Add 100ml of milk to make a smooth batter.
Gradually add the rest of the milk and cream, mixing all the time.
Leave it to rest for an hour

For a lighter and healthier pancake use the following from the Good Housekeeping book. Both recipes can have flavours added, depending on taste, vanilla for example. Various citrus oils added to the batter work very well too.

200g flour 
2 eggs
Pinch of salt
600ml milk
Makes about 14 pancakes

Mix the flour, salt and eggs
Gradually add the milkl until you get a smooth batter
Leave to rest for an hour

This is a great recipe if you are wanting to make savoury pancakes. Treat them like a pizza and sprinkle away. I find leaving them on the hob to cook and melt is better than popping them in the oven.

To cook either recipe heat a good non-stick frying pan, add a small amout of fat, either butter or vegetable oil, and get nice and hot. Pick up the pan and making a circular motion pour in a small amout of batter. You want to get it spread acroos the whole pan as quickly as possible.

Flipping pancakes can be a disaster and as I still have difficulty I shall leave you to find your own happy way. The only thing I will say is that you need the first side to be cooked and crispy, just to give some rigidity to the pancake before you try to flip it. Alternatively you could use a spatula and turn it by hand!! Or maybe take note of W C Fields “The laziest man I ever met put popcorn in his pancakes so they would turn over by themselves!”

Pancakes keep very well as long as you abide by one rule, put a sheet of greaseproof paper between each one! This way you can make a whole batch for later. Just pop them back in the pan to reheat when you need them.

As far as fillings go, the world is your oyster. I like orange segments and Grand Marnier for a grown up version. After all, who said pancakes are just for children!?

Whatever you decide to cook today, enjoy. Worry about those ones stuck to the ceiling tomorrow!

Wet dog anyone?

Hello, my name is Edward and I have an addiction. Mushrooms!

My mushroom fetish started very early in life and has grown constantly every year. The autumn is a great time of year for mushroom aficionados. Love them or hate them, that is when the elusive Perigord truffle is in season, and the season is now ending. There are little men and big pigs scouring the French and Italian countryside looking for these little nuggets of black gold. The smell is over powering, heady and slightly reminiscent of wet dogs on an Autumn day. They are a great luxury, currently changing hands for over £1000.00 a kilo!

My wife cannot stand the smell or taste! I have to wait patiently for a girls night out or a PTA meeting before opening the cupboard and getting out the truffle oil! Well, things are about to get a whole lot worse. Last week I bought a truffle! A 16g lump of expensive smelly stuff in a small plastic bag!! Sounds positively elicit!

I have found my prettiest little jar to pickle it in. Oh happy fungus, bathing in Madeira and Port, pride of place in the fridge, next to the home made crab apple jelly. Pickling this little chap will mean that I am able to have "nearly" fresh truffle for months, if not years, depending on how regularly he appears on the menu!

My first experience of truffles is one that I will never forget. Ever. At the time I was working at one the best Michelin establishments in England. As I was walking through the kitchen, I asked the Chef in all innocence what was the black lumpy thing on his chopping board, exuding a sort of smell that just shouldn't get the saliva glands going, but does. He stood motionless for a moment, digesting this comment and then did something I never expected, he asked if I would like a taste. He didn't just put some on a spoon though. He proceeded to make the simplest of dishes, an omelette, something that would act as a vehicle for the intense flavours, not something to over power my taste buds and scare me away. The eggs had been stored in an airtight container with more truffles so that the fragrance permeated through the shell and into the white and yolk. These were whisked with salt and pepper and nothing else. They went in to the hottest pan with truffle infused olive oil. Once set, the fresh black truffle was shaved on top, then the whole thing was folded in half and put on a warm plate. This was handed to me in silence and looking back I realise that words would have broken the magic of the moment. Sometimes words not spoken say a lot more than words spoken. This was someone at the top of his game sharing knowledge, not laughing at my ignorance, more relishing the chance to encourage someone who showed interest. I shall never forget the whole experience and the importance of not confusing innocence with ignorance. That was the day my inner Monsieur Creosote sat up and started to take notice!

There are so many types of mushrooms from the big, beefy ones to the delicate, flowery ones. Being so diverse, there are so many ways to cook and serve them. Shirley Conran said "life is too short to stuff a mushroom." Funnily enough I don't agree and here's why!

1.    Take four large flat mushrooms (two per person) and peel. Remove, chop and keep the stalks.

2.    Melt 20g of butter in a pan and on a low heat, fry one finely chopped shallot, the mushroom stalks and two rashers of finely sliced smoked bacon until the shallot is soft.

3.    In a bowl put breadcrumbs from one slice of white bread, a handful of finely chopped fresh parsley and 25g of Stilton. Crumble the cheese into small pieces.

4.    Add the shallot, bacon, stalks and butter to the bowl and mix together. Add a little more melted butter if needed to help it all bind together. Season with freshly ground black pepper. You should not need any salt, the bacon and cheese will be salty enough.

5.    Divide the mix into four and spread evenly on to the mushrooms.

6.    Place on a baking tray and put in the oven. Cook at 180° for 15 - 20 minutes until golden brown on the top.

7.    To serve, put on a plate with a little mixed salad and have with a glass of chilled sauvingnon blanc for a light lunch. Alternatively, serve with a large rib-eye steak, Caesar salad and a large glass of claret!

Most supermarkets sell truffle oil nowadays. If you have some, add it to the mix. You don't need much and it adds so much to everything you put it with.

Jean-Antheleme Brillat-Savarin said that “nothing is more agreeable to look at than a pretty gourmande in full battle dress!” So get dressed up, book a table and enjoy your weekend!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!!

I am sitting at home, luxuriating in the warmth of the fire, tapping away at my laptop. The snow has now fallen and settled nicely, certainly well enough for a good wintery outdoors session tomorrow.

There are many people who look at snow as a one dimensional thing, they either love it or hate it. Personally I think snow is a situational thing. Sitting in a car, stuck in a snow drift, cars abandoned all around, then yes, I will agree, snow is bloody awful. However, sitting at 1400m, drinking Gluwein, discussing how to tackle the nasty black run with your god or goddess-like ski instructor and suddenly snow is quite important and a great deal of fun! Go on admit it, how many times have you sat in traffic or at the bus stop or train platform, desperate to get somewhere, slowed down by a yet another sodding snowflake, and at the same time wishing you were ski-ing, tobogganing or making a snowman with the children in the same stuff you are cursing! See, I told you, it is situational!

Last Saturday I watched with joy as the snow came down, covering up all trace of cars and people. Only the wee beasties were out. I started feeling positively Narnian! The following morning, my daughter and son were so excited, the porridge and orange juice were hastily polished off and we set about togging up for our polar expedition. Woolly boots, three pairs of socks, hats, gloves etc and we were ready! And it only took three quarters of an hour!!

We may only have one car, but we are three taboggan family! We have the steady old classic, wooden frame, elevated riding platform, not too fast, a good one to ease into the slopes with. Then we have last year's purchase, esentially a large tea tray. This goes like the clappers, your backside seperated from the ice by a mere hint of plastic and the only way to brake is to dig in the heels and send a shower of snow and ice chips into your face, making it impossible to see the poor unfortunate who your are going to inevitably hit at the bottom!

Then we have my favourite, even though I grew out of this one decades ago. I had her when I was a child and have never seen the like since. She turns heads with her seductive curves and proud features. She is bright yellow and shaped like a duck, her head rising like the prow of a viking longship. She is great fun and the children love belting down the hills on her.

We all had a great morning, sledging, snowballing, building snowmen and falling over. I can't wait for the next fall of snow, as long as I can choose when to be out and how long for!

Having not included a recipe in my last post, I will make up for it now. These are great for when you come back in after playtime, however as your fingures may be numb, get everything ready before you venture out.

Please take a leap of faith with this one! The chocolate and banana toastie! They are soooooo good!!

1.    Turn on the sandwich toaster. If you don't have one, heat up a frying pan.

2.    Take two slices of bread per person, entirely your choice of colour, but you will only be fooling yourself if you think brown will make this healthier!!

3.    Spread both slices with chocolate spread, the one with the nuts is best!

4.    Slice enough banana to fill your sandwiches with one layer.

5.    Put your sandwiches together. Lightly spread butter on the top, turn over in to the sandwich toaster or frying pan and butter the other side.

6.    Shut the lid and toast or fry until the alchemy is done!! A sandwich toaster is best for this as the pressure and heat on both sides is what creates the magic within. If using a pan, push down with a slice or other flat kitchen implement on top of the sandwich. You will still end up with a little slice of heaven!

7.    When done, take out the sandwich, cut into four, wait a couple of minutes as the inside will be like napalm, and enjoy. Now, as I have a tendancy to have ketchup with all my toasties, may I recomend the following as an alternative? Take some crème fraîche or greek yoghurt, either as is or mix in some orange zest or honey, pop in a dish and use to dip your sandwiches in.

As this will no doubt be eaten at tea time, I suggest a mug of something warm. I will not presume to teach you how to make hot chocolate, you open the jar, spoon in the powder and add hot milk! If, however, you want to try something a little more grown up and decadent, have a go at this.

1.    Measure out the milk in your chosen mugs, stopping an inch from the top, and pour into a pan.

2.    Bring the milk to the boil and turn the heat down.

3.    Chop a good quantity of solid chocolate and add to the milk. The quantity and type I leave to you as this is very personal, although I will just add that chocolate orange is wonderful!

4.    Stir or whisk until all the chocolate has melted. Taste for strength and add more chocolate if needed Once this is done, pour out the hot chocolate for any children. Add mini marshmallows and grate more chocolate on top.

5.    Now the grown up stuff begins! A little dash of something always adds a certain "je ne sais quois", but just what to add is the question? The choices and combinations are limitless! If you want to add a kick, Grand Marnier, brandy or whisky will all suffice. If, however you want a gentler kick, say a kick from a pair of Ugg boots as opposed to steel toe capped ones, try Baileys or a chocolate cream liqueur.

This will also work in a thermos, just in case you get dragged out again!!

Have a great weekend!

 "Advice is like snow - the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper in sinks into the mind." Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

School yard shenanigans

This week another blogging first happened. I was tagged. Now I had to ask what this meant as it clearly wasn't going to involve me running around a playground, knackered and out of breath, desperate to make someone else "it" for a change!

In a nutshell, a great friend, Juggle Juggle Toil and Trouble, wrote in her blog seven things about herself. It turns out she too had been tagged to do this by someone else and, to keep the game going, she tagged me. But, being so new to all this, I have no other blogging friends, so now I have to run around a virtual playground on my own until I find someone else to tag!

Anyway, in the spirit of sportsmanship, here are seven things you never knew about Ed.

1.    I was most fortunate to have been successful in my bid for Olympic tickets and am taking my wife and the two most excited children on earth to see the opening ceremony!! Now, I just have to persuade my son that he is not afraid of fireworks!!

2.    I read someone's rant about tomatoes recently and could not believe how passionate one can get over disliking food, honestly, life's too short, surely? Then I remembered Marmite. No, life is not too short, it is in fact not long enough to contain the toxic diatribe that I can spout about this stuff.

I quote from Marmite's website:-

"Basically, the used brewer's yeast is broken down to release soluble amino acids and proteins. This soluble material is then concentrated and filtered a few times before going through a unique (and top secret) process for flavour development."

Well, cock up number one, someone has screwed the flavour development up! Roadkill would taste better than this! Also, ask yourself why this is a unique process? Because no one else in their right mind would want to stoop so low!! Top secret, just another way of saying they are the only ones to know because no one else wants to!! So, this is a by-product of the brewing process. Fine, brew, make decent beer, stop there, feed the waste to pigs. Please, please, I implore all you brewers out there, stop selling your yeasty-ness to Marmite, charge us an extra couple of pennies on each pint and throw the old yeast away. All you are doing is encouraging the assassination of taste buds!

And, as if the putrid spread isn't enough, those charming chaps at Marmite have created a whole range of basically inedible snacks!! Rice cakes, bread sticks, an extra mature version, matured for four times longer than usual (oh, yip-bleeding-pee!!), chocolate (they really should all be shot for this act of sacrilege alone!), cereal bars and cashews. Everything flavoured with something that most chemical warfare specialists would stay away from because it is just TOO nasty!

I live in a house of two spreads. I eat Bovril, a decent, honest and versatile beefy product. You can be traditional and either have it on hot toast, with lashings of melted butter or drink it, or else put it on a poached egg and even pop it in to stews for added depth of character! My wife on the other hand eats Marmite!! Our children are growing up bi-polar. They must have a genetic mutation because, despite regular lectures on the perils of Marmite, they eat and enjoy both! Clearly they need dealing with before this gets out of hand and they both end up therapy! What would you suggest?

3.    I have broken my left wrist and hand four times in over twenty places. Rugby and drinking were large in my formative years and caused the first two. The third was the result of a folding table folding on my wrist! An hour in casualty and back to work for four days straight running a hotel in Henley-on-Thames during the annual Regatta!! The fourth was falling down a flight of stairs whilst working in St. Kitts, stone cold sober I assure you.

4.    I have very few regrets, however the one that causes me most angst is having never done A-levels or a college degree. I took 9 GCSE's, ploughed all but one and my school at the time made the suggestion that perhaps learning was not for me! Now I felt that was a tad harsh! I learnt a great deal at school, admittedly not much of it from the curriculum, but being able to light a cigarette in a hurricane is a life skill no book can teach! Looking back on it from a vantage point of having a great job, which I have got through hard graft and not a piece of paper, maybe I should not worry so much, but I fear that my children will not take academic advice from someone with the same qualifications as a lettuce leaf!

5.    I have lost 20% of my body weight in 6 months, not quite half the man I used to be, but getting there!!

6.    Every time I walk into my kitchen at home, I try to emulate the only real hero I have. I was fortunate enough to work at Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons when I was first starting out in catering. Over the period I was shown some pointers by Raymond Blanc, a great privilege considering I didn't even work in the kitchen. The man is an absolute genius with flavours and at cooking without recipes. His creativity is immense and it is he I try to be every time I put on an apron and pick up the whisk!

7.    I want to own a country pub. I want to cook for random strangers, whose faces I rarely see, gaining satisfaction from the fact that if they paid they bill, I must have done OK. I want to create my own menu and make the dishes myself, not just buy them in. I want to choose a great wine list, offer great value for money, give an experience that people want to repeat every weekend and bring their friends along to share. And most of all, I would love to do it with my wife and children with me!

Please do leave comments and/or an interesting fact about yourself. Have a good rest of your week.

Right, so that's tag done, when do I get to be included in the Blogging version of kiss-chase!

I'll steak my reputation on this!

There are so many fantastic dishes out there from all over the world. Some complicated, needing dozens of ingredients and hours, if not days, of preparation, whilst others can be made faster than picking up the phone to the take away! One thing I have discovered during many years of cooking and working in restaurants and hotels is that to a certain extent you can hide behind the larger dishes, that is certainly not to say that they are easier to produce, just that they are more forgiving to cock-ups as there is room to manoeuvre amongst all the ingredients. To really test a person in the kitchen, give them a piece of meat that needs to be grilled or fried. You are left hideously exposed with nowhere to run. One slip up and the bin is the only one to eat!

I always remember being told from an early age that there are only two sure fire tests for a restaurant. Wine and steak. The house wine on offer should be able to tell you about the owners. A good wine tells you that they know a little about wine, or at least know how to listen to and take advice from those who do. Some punters will not drink from the larger selection, they trust an establishment to understand this and offer a good plonk that doesn't burn the back of the throat like vinegar. A poor house wine, not including corked ones as this is no one's fault, is bad for one of two reasons. The owners either want to force you to buy a more expensive wine, or they don't know about wine and won't listen to opinion. Either way, leave and never, ever go back. Also there is not point in complaining, an owner like this will never take on board comments, they simply don't believe anyone knows their business better than them.

A tender, juicy and red steak is a thing that legends are built on. We can all remember the good ones, where we were, who we shared the moment with and maybe even what we were wearing! St. Lucia, my best man, a loud flowery shirt!! A bad steak is unforgivable. If you are home and it ends up a little over done or under seasoned, fair enough. If you are out, paying good money for what is no doubt one of the more expensive choices on the menu, you have expectations. My belief is if the guy standing over the cooker can make a balls-up of a steak, what chance is there for something more complicated!

I was asked recently for my thoughts on the perfect steak. I will happily give them, however please note (and yes, this is my get out clause just in case!) that this is for my taste, so please adjust seasoning and cooking to personal preference.

The perfect steak should have some fat to help in the cooking and to add flavour. For me, a ribeye is the only choice, followed closely by sirloin. If neither of these are available, go for chicken! Don't settle for mediocre, settle for a different night! Some of you will no doubt be screaming at your computer "what about fillet"? A fantastic cut of beef, but needs the fat that the others have. Leave fillet for stroganoff, wellington or just a bloody good roast! Rump is good, I grant you, but I am a steak snob and it just never matches the experience that the others will give you.

1.    You need to give thought and time to your meal. A decent steak cannot just go from the fridge to the pan without some preparation. Would you go out for the evening in the same state you were in earlier in the day?

2.    In the morning take the steak and rub with decent olive oil but don't drown it, imagine you are applying your own suntan lotion and treat the steak the same. It, like you, only needs a thin layer, well rubbed in. Season it well on both sides with freshly ground black pepper and sea salt. Put in a dish large enough to lie it flat and small enough to fit in the fridge! Crush a clove of garlic and throw it in with a bay leaf. Cover in clingfilm and leave in the fridge until supper.

3.    At least an hour before you will be cooking, take the steak out of the fridge and leave to get to room temperature. This means that you won't need to cook it for as long and you won't end up with either a cold middle or an over done steak.

4.    In this day and age of diets and healthy eating and George Forman Grills, the instinct is to turn the grill on. Don't! Please! Get out the frying pan. A steak should be well seared, almost crispy on the outside and a grill just can't acheive this quickly, it will over cook the meat before it gets anywhere near browned. Put your pan on the heat until red hot. Leave it on full for the length of time it takes to make a gin and tonic!

5.    Your steak will not need any more oil, what you used earlier will be enough. Pop it in the pan, turning occasionally until it is done to your taste. I like mine blue, or as a waiter once said to me "Shall I ask Chef to cut it's head off, wipe it's arse and put it on the plate!" I also love Steak Tartare, but I shall leave that for another time!!

6.    Knowing when your steak is done is a minefield, however always under estimate the time. It can go back for more, not for less! The temptation is to cut into it to see how the middle looks. You will end up something Hannibal Lector might produce. The best way is to gently push the steak during cooking to gauge what stage you are at. This sounds odd, but it really does work. All you need is faith in your own fingers! You will need the hand that you do not write with. As I am right handed, the following instructions will be for a left hand. Simply reverse if you are left handed! Look at it palm up. The bit you need is the drumsick of your thumb, the bottom left of your hand, about half an inch from the knuckle. Push this part with your right forefinger. It is soft and squishy, just like your raw steak.  Now touch your left thumb and forefinger together and feel again. It is firmer, more rare. Touch the middle finger and sqeeze, now its medium. The next finger is medium well and your pinkie is well done. Don't shake your head in disbelief, it does work. Just think about it, how often do you have a steak in a restaurant that looks as though Sweeney Todd has been at it!?

7.    When your steak feels like the ball of your thumb touching which ever finger you choose, you can take it out of the pan and pop it on a warm plate.

I have not given you any ideas on what to put with your steak, the list is limitless so you go with what you like. I always enjoy flat mushrooms, a tomato and shallot salad and a few chips with a good dollop of mustard.

Clearly your should wash all this down with a glass of something red. If you like your wine to have balls, go for an Australian or South American shiraz, for a robust but not as brash choice go claret, and if you are entertaining a lady, go softer, say Burgundy or Beaujolais, but not the nouveau, the proper stuff, such as Brouilly or Fleurie!! If you are reading this at some point in the future and it is now summer, you may want to head outside and stoke up the BBQ. The same cooking principles apply, however you may want to go pink. Pick a young rose, I shan't make recomendations as the choice is so varied year on year, although a white Zinfandel or pink Pinot Grigio always go down well.

I hope this given you some food for thought and next time you walk past the butcher you go in and get that piece of steak you so richly deserve! Enjoy!!

No animals were harmed in the production of this blog.

Prince Charming

Last weekend was our staff Christmas party. "In January?" I hear you exclaim! When you work in any hospitality, catering or dealing with the public industry, December is pretty well written off. Just finding a date is bad enough, let alone making the time to organise anything. So January it always is. This year work is celebrating its 250th anniversary, or to give it its technical term, the semi-quincentennial. We always have a different theme, so that those with a penchant for dressing up have an outlet for their creativity and urges, whatever they may be, and this year the theme was Famous People in the last two and a half centuries.

I have a very smart black frock coat, as one does, sitting in my cupboard from my last dressing up foray. I was told that I wouldn't be admitted to the party if dressed as an eighteenth century dandy again! Damn, damn and thrice damn I say! So, the big question was how to get away with wearing it again without the risk of being accused of costume repetition, a fancy dress faux pas guaranteed to have me struck off any future party invitation lists? The idea of a highwayman sprang to mind, similar era but hopefully not dandy-esque. So I started to make a list of famous highwaymen, not a very long list I assure you, when the perfect name came to mind. Oh yes, absolutely perfect, the right balance of flamboyance, make up and spandex...Adam Ant! Not the most obvious of highwaymen I grant you, however thanks to his 1981 chart topping "Stand and Deliver" he was on the list! A tenuous link to be sure, but that is all I have ever needed!

I have a new found respect for all you ladies out there. How do you manage to do your make up every day, especially on trains and buses? It is a mystery. It took me over an hour to apply nail polish, eye liner, eye shadow and a beauty spot. And I was sitting at a stationary table!

We all had a fantastic evening, slightly tempered by the fact that I was beaten to the best dressed prize by Super Mario!! Lots of dancing, drinking and of course, good food.

Sunday was pretty well written off. I made it back into the land of the living as the sun was disappearing and realisation dawned that I needed food.

I am a huge fan of eggs and Sunday night is egg night. It doesn't matter how they are cooked, even raw in the bottom of a Bloody Mary! I decided to do Piperade, a favourite of mine that I haven't done for a long time. It is a Basque take on scrambled eggs, very simple and very forgiving, particularly when culinary skills might be lacking. The ingredients I am using are for two people, however they are for my taste, so feel free to amend them in any way you wish.

1.    Allow two or three eggs per person, whisk them up with a splash of milk and salt and pepper. Go easy on the salt as there is bacon in this.

2.    In a heavy bottomed pan, melt a good sized knob of butter. If using salted butter, put less salt in the eggs.



3.    Finely chop half a medium onion, two medium tomatoes and one peppers worth of pepper. If you can use different coloured peppers, it makes for a very jolly plate of food. Use a third of a red, green and yellow pepper, or other colours if you can get them.

4.     Slice two rashers of bacon, fat and all as it only increases the flavour, pop in the pan and cook for a few minutes. Add the onion and peppers and cook until softened. The tomatoes will only need a couple of minutes, so add them at the right moment.

5.    Choose your doughy accompaniment, toast, muffin, baguette etc. As you put the toaster on or bread into the oven, add the egg to the bacon and veg, make sure the pan is good and hot before adding the egg. Cook until it is to your liking. One tip for you to make sure it doesn't get over done is to get the eggs to the stage where you say to yourself "they need a couple more minutes." Turn the heat off, move the pan away from the ring and butter your toast. By the time the butter is on, the eggs will be perfectly done by the residual heat.



Make sure your plates are warm, cold scrambled egg is a sin that can never be forgiven! I always find this tastes best when eaten on your knees, with the plate warming your thighs whilst watching some mindless Sunday night television and, as it happened, the new series of Top Gear coincided very nicely!

Bernard Meltzer, an American radio personality, once said "A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg, even though he knows you are cracked."

Have a good weekend.



My official author photograph!!