Puffy pastries

Location is not always the most important thing for a cafe.  Tucked away in an unattractive concrete overhang along NW London’s Finchley Road is a little place called REMON.  The board outside confidently predicts that anyone who goes in will be happy and I think they are right.

The reason is that they have an excellent pastry chef.  The cafe is small with only a few tables, but from breakfast time till about 7pm you will find a selection of freshly baked viennoiserie as well as savoury tarts and a few salads and sandwiches.

Below is a goats’ cheese tart

In the window are crusty breads and squares of pizza. Inside you can choose from cakes or croissants served with good coffee.  The ones in the picture are with almonds or cinnamon.

So, turn left outside Finchley Road station, walk about 50 yards, and enjoy a very pleasant surprise.

Monday lunch

When you’re staying in a place surrounded by restaurants, why would you not go out to eat? I will happily choose a pizza place with a wood-fired oven, or an Indian restaurant where they produce the variety of balti or tandoori dishes which are hard to replicate without great knowledge or experience.

But when it comes to a plate of pasta, I’m reluctant to go somewhere that offers something less attractive than the one in the picture. It’s not that I don’t trust the tortellini with pesto or linguini with truffle oil; it’s just that I happen to prefer my own garlicky tomato sauce to the taste of less-than-fresh basil or oil that has been infused with a not-too-great truffle.

Following my theme of using very few ingredients, the sauce for the tagliatelle can be made in the ten minutes it takes the pasta to boil.  

Take 3 peeled, crushed cloves of garlic, heat them in a bowl in 2 tbsp olive oil in the microwave for 30 seconds. Stir in a handful of cherry tomatoes, chopped, 1 tbsp tomato puree and 6 tbsp Italian passata (pureed tomatoes). season well with salt, pepper and a little sugar.  Cook on high power for about 3-4 minutes. Then add a little more passata - enough to make the sauce thinner, probably about 100 ml. Taste again for seasoning, and it’s ready.

Serve the pasta with the tomato sauce, plenty of butter and grated parmesan cheese.

The salad on the side is also quick and easy: wild rocket leaves, washed and dried, slices of hard conference pear, peeled, and some sliced radishes.  The dressing is just olive oil, honey mustard, pepper and lemon juice.  The freshly dressed leaves have a crunchy, peppery taste that goes very well with the smoothness of the pasta.  

Happy Monday.

Trends

The food world is every bit as trendy as fashion or art. Here are some pieces of news from recent papers:

1. Instead of offering a la carte menus, leading chefs have decided to stick to a smaller selection of dishes. That’s no surprise because it must surely be easier to calculate what customers are going to order if the range of choice is small. But it doesn’t necessarily mean that the experience will be worse. ‘Taster menus’ offer up to ten different small plates, so diners will never go away hungry. The Araki - a two michelin-starred sushi restaurant in Mayfair - only offers one set menu for £300. Understandably, they state on their website that they cannot accomodate dietary requirements. At the end of the day, the aim is to cut down on waste.  It does make you wonder how the old fashioned establishments still offer an a la carte menu. Oslo Court in fashionable St. John’s Wood in London has a list including 7 hot starters, 8 fish and 17 meat dishes, to say nothing of the lavish dessert trolley. Dinner here, where little has changed since the 1970s, is bucking the trend and at a fixed price of £44 they have no plans to change to a smaller set menu.

2. At the other end of the scale passengers have been complaining about the prices of food and drinks on the carts of budget airlines.  It seems that they are charging £2.34 for a bottle of water which you could pick up (if you buy 12 in a supermarket) for 16p. An in-flight sachet of Cup a Soup rakes in £2.40 while the same thing, bought in a store multipack costs just 12p. We all know about the hidden extras on cheap airlines. I wonder how long it will be before they ask you to pay and order in advance if you want breathable air on the flight?

(The sculptures in the photo are by Sophie Dickens. You can read about her here.)

Casseroast

What does this word mean?  It’s my interpretation of a cross between a casserole and a roast. Meat or poultry that is browned, seasoned and cooked till tender in a (sometimes thickened) sauce is called a casserole. This is also the word for the pot it’s cooked in. Chicken or beef that is cooked in the oven with high heat is roasted. So if you have no suitable pot, but you do have an oven tray, you can cook portions of chicken and give them the ‘casserole’ flavour very easily by creating the gravy later.

First rub a mixture of flour and paprika over the chicken legs. Spoon a little olive oil over the tin (lining it first with baking paper if you want to save on washing up). Arrange a sliced onion, cut up carrots and celery stalks around the edges and place the chicken portions in the middle.  Cook in a preheated 200C/400F oven for half an hour, then turn everything over and continue cooking for another 15 minutes.  By this time the onions will be very brown, almost burnt, but with a delicious caramel flavour.  Take them out and continue cooking the chicken for another 15 minutes, or until the flesh is cooked.  (You can tell if you insert a knife and the juices run clear). Arrange everything on a serving dish (with the reserved browned onions) and keep it warm while you make the gravy.

Pour half a cup of boiling water into the pan juices and stir it around until you have a smooth sauce. Taste for seasoning and then pour this over the cooked chicken and vegetables. 

You might serve this with baby new potatoes. The photo below shows my choice: a leg of chicken with the roasted onions, carrots and celery and some baby Brussels sprouts on the side.

Chocolate desserts

These come from a classy restaurant: Locanda Locatelli in Seymour Street, London. (I mentioned their superb sea bass and cod in the previous post.) Run by the well known chef Giorgio Locatelli, this is an oasis of calm with perfect, unobtrusive service. The food is inventive and original with the emphasis on the very highest quality fish and meat.

I started with potato gnocchi with artichokes, went on to the best thick piece of cod with blackened skin I have had for years (see the previous post), and we finished with the desserts in the pictures.  

They weren’t all chocolate - the one above is a cooked apple with sultanas and some chocolate in the centre, covered in buttery pastry with sesame seeds. The others used chocolate in various guises: fondant, sponge cake with cream, and all with the elegant chocolate drizzle on the plate.

This was a celebration for the Man in the Armchair Kitchen.  A friend welcomed him to the Octavian club (work that out!) with these words:

“There are a lot of perks to telling people you are a certain age - you make it from one side of the room to the other and they’re amazed at your physical ability; express an interesting opinion and they’re intrigued by your brain power. The fact that you remember anything is met with true admiration.”

What do we like about fish?

My guess is that you prefer the first photo to the others. The top one shows fried fish goujons, made at home. The lower ones shows two versions of cod with blackened skin and below that a fillet of prime sea bass.  All of these pictures were taken in Locanda Locatelli in London. (I’ll tell you more about the restaurant in the next post).

The problem is that you can’t get the taste from a photograph. The way the fish is cooked is key.

The cod with blackened skin was served two ways: one is on a bed of brown lentils, the other on some steamed spinach. (Sadly brown is the one colour food editors shy away from). Keeping the skin on makes a crunchy contrast with the juicy flesh inside.

Next comes the sea bass. Sea bass has become a very common fish. At one time, before it was farmed, it was special, and the ones you saw on the fishmonger’s slab were huge and silvery. Today most restaurants serve dried-up fillets that are barely enough for a cat to demolish in a minute.

The version here came from a whole fish with the skin on, cooked in the oven under a salt crust till the flesh was just flaking and still very moist. This is apparently a Sicilian classic (though there are similar recipes that hint at a Spanish origin). You might think the fish would end up unbearably salty, but no: the salt sets to a crust, holding the moisture in the fish, and when you crack it open, it peels off in large chunks. This is often done at the table, so you see how the skin and scales simply come away with the crust, leaving the perfect fish underneath.

I have only one criticism of the choice we made. Smart restaurants often don’t include side dishes in the price of the main course, so we forgot to order a hefty portion of mashed potato or, perish the thought, chips!

Tea time?

Not at all.  Yes these are teapots, but they are not for sale.  They are on display at Selfridges - home of stylish fashion.  The fashion here is for home decor and the coloured teapots are simply to illustrate different shades of paint. (I specially like the one in the foreground - the fuschia coloured one called Mischief.)

Clothes shopping in Selfridges is for the young and well-heeled. Older people prefer to watch the TV serial Mr. Selfridge, a riveting account (though surely fictionalized?) of the founder and owner, Harry Selfridge. Set in the 1920s, the clothes and scenes are eye-catching. But sitting in front of TV surely needs tea and something.

Here’s a suggestion, scones with cream and jam:

This isn’t steak

It may at first glance look like meat, but it isn’t.  The picture shows pieces of raw tuna on a charcoal grill. It’s not only the colour but the texture that makes fresh tuna seem meaty. It has a stronger flavour than white fish and a firmness that means it needs chewing, rather than slipping down like flakes of haddock or cod.

I recently ordered grilled tuna at a local restaurant, asking for it to be cooked ‘pink’. This is the generally accepted term for 'underdone’.  Many chefs refuse to cook meat or tuna 'well done’. A famous chef called Nico Ladenis came to Michelin-stardom in the 1970s. But as well as his skill in the kitchen, he was known for schoolboy-like tantrums.  He never put salt on the tables and once, when a customer insisted on ordering a well done steak, he sat under the table and refused to move, in protest.

Back to my own restaurant experience. When my tuna arrived it was pleasantly charred on the outside, but disappointingly firm and grey in the middle.  An extra minute or two on the grill makes a huge difference, and instead of a juicy piece of fish, I was offered one that had an almost leathery consistency.

The chef was apologetic and offered to cook another fillet, but this doesn’t work if there are two of you and the other one has already been presented with his food.  Either your companion waits, sitting looking at a plate of rapidly cooling lamb cutlets, or he starts and you each end up eating alone.

I haven’t named the restaurant because I believe this was not typical of the food they serve.  So we will go back another time and I’ll give the tuna another try.

Bananas and cream

What’s better than bananas and cream?  Answer: bananas, cream and butterscotch sauce. I mentioned in my previous post the unbelievable number of spoonfuls of sugar in certain coffee drinks.

I’ve spoken before about the overload of sugar in many commercially produced cakes, but you will also know that I am not against everything sweet. There are times - especially on a dull and grey winter’s day - when a pudding or dessert is appealing. We rarely have anything other than fresh fruit during the week, but at the weekend a small indulgence seems quite reasonable.

So here is my promised butterscotch sauce.  As I have no recipe books (all in storage) and no whisks or blenders (not available in the temporary kitchen) I ‘invented’ a concoction of butter, sugar and cream that I imagined is similar to the famous sauce.  Confirming my guess by searching the internet, I found I was quite right, except that the suggested amount of sugar was far more than I used. I also by-passed steps in the recipes that involved (a) making caramel, (b) whisking the sauce for 5 minutes and © adding flaky sea salt - I use slightly salted butter instead.  So here is my version:

The amount I made for one banana is a third of the recipe below, using 1 tsp each sugar and butter and 3 tsps cream.

Butterscotch sauce (makes enough to serve 3)

3 teaspoons dark brown sugar

3 teaspoons slightly salted butter

9 teaspoons single cream

Put the first two ingredients into a small bowl and microwave for about 30 seconds on high power.  Stir in half the cream and bring to a bubble by microwaving for a further 30 seconds. Mix in the remaining cream and stir vigorously till everything is blended. You can serve this cold, but I think it is better warm so I would give it an extra 30 seconds of heating before you drizzle it over the plates.

Store any that is left in the fridge.

By the way the photo at the top comes from my book Lookit Cookit - kitchen games for curious children.

Seriously sugary

I’ve just read a surprising piece of news: some of the coffees on sale in the high street (Costa, Starbucks, Caffe Nero) contain between 13 and a staggering 20 teaspoons of sugar in each serving. I find this hard to imagine.  Think about people who used to spoon sugar into their cup of tea: after watching them add 3 spoons you would begin to think how unpleasant it must taste. Now think of 20! True, the drinks are huge, but they have unfathomable names. If you speak Italian you’ll know that ‘Massimo’ means 'maximum’ and 'Venti’ means 'twenty’. But when applied to the serving size these words are simply the same as 'tall’ or 'grande’ - they all mean BIG.

The company defends their position by saying “these hot flavoured drinks should be an occasional treat, not an everyday drink" but the customers think otherwise.  Mark Cresswell from London says he used to drink a large white cafe mocha with caramel and vanilla syrup, with cream on the top and a caramel and chocolate drizzle, three times a day, seven days a week. He admits that at one point the assistant manager refused to serve him but the rest of the staff continued to do so. Not surprisingly poor deluded Mark is now suffering from high cholesterol and liver problems.

For me it’s perfectly possible to go a day or so without consuming any sugar at all - apart from the spoonful of marmalade on my morning toast and the natural sugar in fruit. When I bake cakes or make a dessert, I often cut down on the quantity of sugar because I have come to enjoy the less sweet taste. This works where there is say, a sugary crumble topping on top of an already sweet cake, but in baking there are certainly some recipes that don’t work without the correct balance of sugar and eggs (for example meringues).

Coming up next is something undoubtedly sweet, but not overbearing or cloying. It was an experiment, using just three ingredients and taking very little effort or time.

Appetite by Nigel Slater

Good photography is key to producing an appealing book.  So when I started leafing through Appetite, Nigel Slater’s 2000 Cookbook of the Year, I was taken aback to see that the first picture shows a stained and grubby apron.

Then I realized that this image epitomizes what he wants to say: forget about the fuss, forget about recipes, don’t bother with fancy table arrangements or drizzles of sauces; just get on with cooking the best meat, fish etc. you can get your hands on.  In discarding the set recipe, Slater believes we are liberating ourselves to be more creative ’rather than slavishly following someone else’s set of rules. He reminds us that the old fashioned word for recipe, receipt, was in fact just that: a cook’s receipt written in a ledger, and a collection of these made up the list of instructions for a dish.

Slater loves to feed family, friends, lovers. In wondering why so many people hate ’every last second of it’ he believes we are encouraged to make our daily cooking too difficult and are simply doing too much. He has a point. Maybe we are offering too many courses.  Certainly we are dolling up the food in ways that are time consuming and aimed more at showing off than producing a better taste. He has no patience with people who try to imitate restaurant food. ‘There is nothing more indigestible than a meal where you know the cook has gone to too much trouble.’

I part company with some of Slater’s pronouncements. He fails to understand  those who would like to reproduce 'cheese biscuits, ketchup and crumpets.’ I agree about the last two of these shop-bought staples, but I would certainly have a go at making my own cheese biscuits. I also disagree with his thought that you will feel wretched if you serve up yesterday’s leftovers.

He continues his theme by saying we are offering too much; that two courses (rather than three) are surely enough. Slater believes our aim to impress stems from something far deeper: our national pride has been bruised by the reputation of French and Italian cooks, so we feel we have something to prove.

In his aim to simplify the food we serve, Slater suggests that we shouldn’t feel guilty about buying in pâté or pâtisserie. But there seems to be a difference between aiming to please, by going to some trouble if you enjoy doing it, and causing yourself stress by taking on too much, if classic cookery is not your forte.  

Unlike the book I described last week which is all about measurements, Slater says you don’t really need them. He’s right about suggesting we buy 6 tomatoes rather than 425g, but wrong when he claims you can often be flexible with measurements.  In cake making success certainly depends on getting the quantities right.

Talking about acquiring gadgets he dismisses honey dippers and pizza wheels and says you will not ever need a piping bag. He may not, but I still like to pipe cream or meringues. I’m not showing off. I’m old fashioned enough to think the little whirls look good and I hate those massive blobs of sugary meringue that are far too big for anyone to tackle.

So to the actual food in the book. It is a visual treat and the dishes cry out to be made. So I shall buy the cast iron griddle and cook a fabulous steak.

I’ll simmer his clear, savoury chicken broth; if I’m in a hurry I’ll buy puff pastry for his buttery Taleggio and onion tart (see top photo). He’s persuaded me to search out fresh thyme and lamb shanks for his 'rich, meaty braise’ and make a midweek supper of sausages and parsnip mash.

His puddings are old-fashioned and his cakes hefty rather than light, but I’ll forgive him that because trifle, summer pudding and plum pie have never looked more appetising.

(both photos are from the book Appetite by Nigel Slater)

Leaves of a pistachio tree

Do we ever think how nuts grow? These are leaves from a very large pistachio trio in Northern Israel. After seeing it, I discovered that it is famous because the tree is estimated to be 450 years old. It’s called the Mount Atlas Pistache and is one of several trees that have been growing for hundreds of years in what is now a roadside picnic area.

Pistachio nuts have very hard shells and are tinged with green. They have a delicate flavour and can be used in desserts or simply sprinkled with salt and served with drinks before a meal. The picture below shows individual cakes baked with whole pistachios. It makes a change from the more usual almond filling.

Spanish Rice

There are basically two ways of cooking rice: boiling in a large amount of water, or the absorption method, where the rice gradually absorbs the liquid.  Both should end up with tender, just cooked grains.  Simple white rice is obtained with the first method; risotto and paella use the second one.

The dish I call Spanish Rice is one I learned from my mother, who was actually born in Portugal. She used to make it for Sunday evening supper in our home in Cricklewood when I was a child.

It is very simple. The essential ingredients are olive oil, a large onion, 2 cloves garlic, 2 cups basmati rice and 4-6 cups vegetable or chicken stock.  What makes it more tasty is a number of extra vegetables.  I have used diced carrot and red pepper but you can add peas, chopped french beans, mushrooms - it’s entirely up to you what you like and what you have available.

First peel and chop the onion and fry it in a little olive oil.  Wash and rinse the rice. When the onion is beginning to turn golden, add the crushed garlic cloves. At this stage add other hard vegetables like diced carrots (with more oil if it is looking dry). Make sure the garlic doesn’t burn so keep stirring the vegetables. Add the rice to the saucepan and stir well to coat the grains with oil.  Cover with boiling stock - start with twice the quantity of rice (4 cups) and then simmer for about ten minutes. Add vegetables that cook quickly like beans, peas or broccoli, and cook for a further ten minutes.  If the rice is still firm, add more liquid, and continue simmering till the stock has all been absorbed and the grains are soft, but not mushy. If you like you can add a few teaspoons of tomato puree, which will make the rice turn pink and add extra flavour.

Spanish rice goes well with chicken or as a vegetarian dish on its own.  It’s almost impossible to have a small portion - you just want to keep eating more and more.

Chicken wings

You can buy these very cheaply either raw, or cooked from a Take-Away restaurant.  The reason I would make them at home is either because I have children around who love to ‘paint’ or because I want a quick and flavoursome main course or side dish that can be ready in half an hour. (For those of us who don’t relish walking to the supermarket and standing in the check-out queue, making something at home is always a happier option.)

This recipe requires no weighing or measuring.  There will be no problem if you don’t have one of the ingredients. It can really hardly fail.

Take a sharp knife and slash the chicken wings through the skin. This is so they can absorb the flavours better.  Then in a bowl make a sticky mixture.  For 12 wings I use 2 teaspoons each of soy sauce, dark brown sugar and olive oil. Then I add any or all of the following, 1 teaspoon of grated fresh ginger, ½ teaspoon paprika, 1 teaspoon tomato puree. Mix it all together and paint it over the chicken wings, using a brush, a spoon or your fingers!

Heat the oven to 190C/380F and arrange the prepared wings on a sheet of baking paper on a tray.

Cook until they begin to turn brown - about 20 minutes - and then turn them over, spooning any of the mixture that is now on the paper, on top of the wings.  After another 10-15 minutes they will be done.

Serve them straight away or arrange them on a dish and reheat them later.  This takes minutes in the microwave. They go very well with Spanish rice (coming up next) or any kind of potatoes: boiled new ones, oven baked jacket potatoes, or on a bed of mashed potato.

Do you measure up?

Shirley Bond has seen an opportunity with the Great British Bake Off to re-issue her comprehensive guide on measuring, taking us through the confusion some of us face when confronted with recipe books. The competitors in the TV show so often failed in a task by having the oven at the wrong temperature or not having the correct amounts in the ingredients for a cake.

So How do you Measure up? is intended to guide us through equivalent measurements, (Imperial/Metric), and to help us whether we are weighing dry goods, calculating oven temperatures, pouring liquids or working out cup/tablespoon equivalents. The first half of her detailed research provides answers to all of this, while the second part gives advice about shopping, entertaining, and actual cooking.

This is a book for those who love to get it right. It’s not for the slapdash or casual cook. I see it more as an excellent handbook to have on my shelf when I’m trying to convert an old recipe to modern equivalents, or to find out how an American recipe can be adapted for the British kitchen. Did you even know that British and US spoons and pints are actually different?

There are times when I don’t want to get immersed in the detail. Do I need to know that eggs come in sizes 1 - 7, or that a Balthazar is the equivalent of 16 bottles of Champagne?  On the other hand working out the quantity of cake dough needed if you have a round tin rather than a square one, may well be useful.

Shirley knows about oven temperatures too.  But even if you know the difference between Fahrenheit and Centigrade (or the old fashioned Gas) and can equate these with the even more old-fashioned ‘cool’, 'moderate’ or 'very hot’ instructions, this still doesn’t take into account the variations we all know.  One person’s oven set at 200C may perform quite differently from another, depending on how old it is or whether it’s even working properly.

I read the book at one sitting. The knowledge I gained was this: where I don’t know something, Shirley almost certainly does.  And it’s all there in the book, to refer to when I am struggling with tablespoons, ounces or American fluid ounces. She even tells us how to cater for 150 people, advising us to buy 10 loaves or 36 long French sticks if we’re making sandwiches for a buffet.  

I can pass up the conversion of kilocalories to kilojoules but I guarantee that I’ll be referring to this book when I want to know how many ounces is equivalent to a cup of golden syrup.

Photo bright

For the past six months I have not been in the actual Armchair Kitchen.  That one, with all my equipment and the comfortable chair, no longer exists.  We sold the house and the garden, where I took many of the photos for the blog.  

It’s a long story but we are still not in our new flat, so the photography has suffered.  My tripod and props are all in storage; we are in an apartment with little natural light and no ‘outdoors’, so the pictures I have been putting up are not of the standard I would like.

So here, as a reminder of better efforts, are some of my favourites.

Broccoli soup with a sprig of rosemary

Purple eggs (infused with beetroot juice)

French toast with berries and maple syrup.

The top photos are simply oranges and red lentils. Good light makes all the difference.

Poached eggs for breakfast

To make a full English breakfast takes time: it involves frying and needs some co-ordination - cooking sausages, bacon, scrambled or poached eggs, mushrooms and baked beans. This vegetarian version is much simpler - just a couple of slices of buttered white toast and a poached egg on the top.

I used to think it was hard to cook eggs like this. It isn’t really.  There’s a theory that you need to add vinegar to the water (I don’t because I think it affects the taste).  Boil some water in a small pan and with a fork swirl it round and round. Crack open the egg and slide it slowly into the water. Season with salt and pepper, turn down the heat and simmer for a few minutes until the yolk is just cooked. You don’t want it hard.  

When I did this I was using an electric hob and had forgotten that things continue to cook long after you have turned them off, or down.  So when I turned my back for a moment, I came back to see the pan boiling over and the egg covered in the white. Luckily it wasn’t spoilt.  I took it out with a slatted spoon, drained it well and then set it on the warm toast. The tomatoes on the side were an afterthought (or a pre-thought). The raw tomatoes were, unsurprisingly in February, lacking in flavour, so I roasted them in the oven with a little olive oil for half an hour

Happy Birthday

to the Man in the Armchair Kitchen.  He is celebrating a big birthday today.

He is my adviser, my book editor, my consultant on all things grammatical or classical, and most importantly, the chief taster and consumer of everything I cook.

The eclairs pictured above are his absolute favourite.  I can’t make them for him as I have: no bowls, no mixer, no baking trays, no hand whisk, no space to do the icing.  But we will imagine them together and smile.

Soon….. maybe soon, we’ll be in our new flat with a working kitchen.

A superior sandwich

There’s bread and jam and then there’s this.  

The ‘bread and jam’ used to consist of slices of factory-produced sliced white bread. On top of that came a smear of butter or low-fat spread and a thin layer of jam where you couldn’t see any fruit. It’s what children used to eat for tea when they came home from school.

Now comes a breakfast or afternoon treat that couldn’t be simpler, as long as you have the right ingredients.  First you need a fresh challah loaf (or maybe good crusty bread).

You don’t need butter because you are going to pile on a large - no, huge - spoonful of mascarpone cheese.

This is an Italian product that has become extremely popular. It says on the pot that it’s a smooth, velvety cheese with a sweet and lemony taste. Perfect in desserts or stirred through pasta. On top of this comes a heaped spoonful of the best raspberry jam you can find. It’s somehow more fresh and tart tasting than strawberry - and a bit more unusual.

I have friends who never invite anyone for tea because……. well, because they have no room, they don’t know how to bake, they don’t have any fine china, or just…. because.  The truth is they have lost confidence in what they serve.  So instead of worrying, just make a pot of strong tea or coffee and offer your guest one of these. I promise they will think the world of you!

London and a vegetarian restaurant

An American cousin once came to London and went on a sightseeing tour. Jetlagged from the long flight he fell asleep on the bus.  When he arrived back at our home I asked him what he thought of all the places he had seen: Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, the river Thames, Downing Street (home of the Prime Minister) etc. He replied ’after a while it all looks the same, doesn’t it?’

I may be biased but I think the architecture in London is quite amazing.  This is a view of Regent Street, looking down towards Piccadilly Circus.  It is named after the Prince Regent (later King George IV) and is associated with the architect John Nash. The street was completed in 1825 but all the buildings were demolished between 1897 and 1925. The replacements are protected as ‘listed buildings’ and from the picture you can see why.

Off Regent Street is a small street called Heddon Street. It has one of the best vegetarian restaurants I know. Tibits has an attractive central display of cold salads and hot savouries, as well as breads, good juices and crumbles and puddings for dessert. The items are not priced individually: you pay by weight (not yours, the weight of the food on your plate!). It’s also vegan friendly. Click here to find out more.

The start of something good

There’s very little in the fridge. There’s even less space on the tiny worktop in the kitchen. I need something comforting for dinner. I have some broccoli, a pot of Italian mascarpone cheese and tagliatelle pasta.

First I scoop out a large dollop of the mascarpone and put it with some steamed broccoli (see above) on top of the pasta pan to warm slightly.  I don’t want to cook the cheese, just soften it a little.  At this stage the pasta water boils over and pours out on to the hob.

When the tagliatelle is cooked and drained I toss it with the green vegetable and sprinkle over some coarsely grated parmesan.

Then I mix in the mascarpone, adding a little more black pepper and settle down to eat a wonderfully filling meal.

This is one of my favourites when The Man in the Armchair Kitchen is out playing bridge. Tonight he’s not going out - too pre-occupied with some legal matters concerned with our not yet moving into the flat of our dreams.  So he is having a slice of salmon while I have the fattening pasta dish.

Portugal near Paddington

In my previous post I mentioned the market stalls in Paddington Basin. Here’s one that I was instantly attracted to.  Those who follow me might already know that I have a weakness for the Portuguese custard tarts known as pasteis de nata. They are made of flaky puff pastry filled with a delicious creamy custard. The photo above shows them in another guise: the same filling inside flan pastry.

While I was waiting for them to wrap one up for me, I had one of those ‘should have tried the other one’ moments.

Lined up in front of me were doughnuts filled with the same yellow mixture. 

Then there were sponge rolls, also containing the custard

Finally some large triangles called Jesuitas with the custard cream and flaked almonds on the top.

People joked in the past that you could halve the amount of sugar in Portuguese desserts and they would still be too sweet, but I think that referred to the concentrated egg custards that you could only eat in tiny amounts. There’s no doubt that these pastries are sugar-rich, but I just had salad for lunch, so I’m looking forward to my teatime treat!

Start up with taste

I was at a meeting on a barge in nearby Paddington Basin - a newly built area full of glass fronted offices and apartments. On my way I happened to see a local market (Thursdays only, apparently). The aroma of freshly cooked food drew me to Savannah Taste - a piscatorian stand. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this word, it means that they cook fish and vegetarian dishes.

On display today were fresh salmon kebabs, filling side dishes like chick pea, lentil or quinoa, and the freshest looking parsley and tomato salad. I was there before the lunchtime rush, but I imagine that office workers in the know would clear them out by 2pm.

My fan club

This is Celia, who lives in Manhattan, New York. Someone gave her a copy of my book and when she heard I was coming to visit, she wanted to meet me. I wrote Lookit Cookit some years ago. It’s for children of all ages - full of games, experiments and quiz questions. The idea is, like my blog, to make cooking fun.

Celia was amused when we read the opening together. It starts with The Contents - what you will find in the book. And then comes The Un-Contents - a word I made up, which simply refers to what is often found in books for children: simple sugary recipes, suggestions for hiding vegetables, and bribery. Children are so often told to eat up what’s on their plate, then they can have dessert. They are being taught that savoury food is less appealing and vegetables are things to be swallowed like medicine.

I am convinced that when children start playing with food: finding out what’s inside, how different foods taste, they will expand their horizons and enjoy the wonderful edible world that is out there.

Here’s what the reviews say:

“A totally charming volume exploring food from a child’s viewpoint. Who ever would have thought that beetroot was not just an over vinegared root eaten by adults, but a fun vegetable with which to ‘paint’?”

“How is it that children go from grabbing food off their high chair trays to eating delicately with a knife and fork? Lots of time and patience, I guess. Playing with food seems to become taboo as soon as children are out of nappies and on the road to school. Experimenting with it really seems to appeal to the toddler in every child. But this is more organized play; a great present for grandparents, parents and children.”

“.. a fun book which starts with the simple process of making an attractive coloured fluid by immersing shreds of red cabbage in water and progresses in easy steps to organizing and cooking a complete three course healthy and delicious meal for the parents.  Interspersed within the text are general knowledge quiz questions and suggestions for interesting experiments. All households with children should welcome this small and vividly illustrated book.”

If you know anyone who would like to read (and buy) this book please click here.

Birthday tea

Following the sandwiches at the recent 80^th birthday tea (smoked and fresh salmon, egg, cream cheese and cucumber) a 5-tier cake display was brought to each table. Freshly baked scones were served with cream and jam.  Then there were light and fluffy meringues and tartlets with a halved strawberry or lemon filling. Eclairs, mille feuilles and iced fairy cakes completed the selection.

Luckily we were kept active throughout the afternoon with the dance band playing music from the 1950s (the decade when our birthday girl would have been in her twenties.) The costumes of the guests brought back memories - tightly belted full skirts, layers of net in petticoats and tiny neck scarves for the women. The men dressed up in drainpipe trousers and biker jackets, One had an Elvis wig and another dressed as a  ‘teddy boy’ (ask someone over 70 if you don’t know what this is!)