The Lone Diner

Hold the gravy...

2008-03-13T17:54:08Z

It is dinner for three on Wednesday, four on Thursday and so it escalates to the weekend. All I do is multiply what I would normally eat by the number of guests and add to this a little taste-bomb to kick things off with and possibly something sweet or some cheese afterwards. In the spirit of eating at home I like to keep it a bit loose [if you know what I mean?] like keeping plates. I love it when the juices left on your plate could add to the next course. Last night it worked a treat! Seared meaty scallop with smoked white balsamic glaze followed by minute gratin dauphinoise with crème fraîche and a generous helping of caviar. The creamy slightly fishy mess on the plate was perfect for the roast rack of lamb with anchovy gravy. Steamed fennel with a lemon and olive oil dressing to cut through the gravy. With the help of a slice of sourdough bread the plates were squeaky clean - ready for the next course! I could have gone on for ages………..

Sunday late lunch...

2008-03-11T16:57:01Z

A trip to Moen and Son on Saturday resulted in the perfect beef to prepare Steak Tartare on a late Sunday afternoon. I hand cut the meat to small pieces just before it resembles mincemeat whilst an egg is on the boil. Taking my time and enjoying the change in texture, first thin slices then strips and finally dice. Worcestershire sauce, Dijon, mayonnaise, a drop of ketchup and a dash of Tabasco into the mix. On a platter finely diced shallot, cornichons, capers, parsley and hard-boiled egg laid out in perfect mounds. Cognac and cyan pepper are the last to the table. The egg yolk looks luminous atop the dark rich colour of the meat, this is the moment everyone around the table goes very quiet, after a short pause, spontaneous exchanges of preference and before you know it, it is all over. Silence for a minute. I love that about eating raw food, a sense of immediacy, seizing the moment, fighting oxidisation and decay. A pinch of guilt but replete…

St. Let's-cook-at-home-Day

2008-02-11T16:54:34Z

A very fine and delicate line separates the desire for food and the desire for sex. Not many activities in our daily lives demand all of our senses to join forces [albeit only for a moment?] to enjoy food. Bright eyed, nostrils flaring and taste buds on full alert. How often do we hear people declare their love for a certain dish? Perusing a menu perhaps not that different from eyeing out the talent? Ogling food with ill intent, is that not pure desire? Eating with their hands in public, not a sure sign of intimacy? Asking for seconds, reeks of greed? What is that smell? Are you territorial or don’t you mind sharing? Or are you more of the look-but-don’t-touch-school? Does hunger induce temporary insanity? Does waiting for food feel like a lifetime or do you possess that and rare virtue? Could there possibly be a secret ingredient called: LOVE? Recognize this scenario? Feeling the pressure of the big day, despite the warnings from others who have suffered this for them. The awkward couple, all eyes on them, playing with the mediocre offering. They still went ahead with it! Wedding? no, it is dinner out on Valentine’s Day!! In all the years I worked in the restaurant business I was most baffled by Valentine’s Day. Restaurants with integrity will turn a blind eye and squeeze couples in like sardines, then kick them out to make room for the next sitting. Something very Moonies’ mass wedding about it…. Timing was everything, you have to be in at a certain time, you have to eat at an above average bite-per-second rate, then swallow whilst paying the bill, only to find yourself on the pavement girlfriend armed with the obligatory cellophane wrapped single rose sabre, all revved-up and nowhere to go…. Be a real man, take charge and just say no! If ever you needed an excuse to cook at home this is it!! Happy Valentine’s Day

Market Trends

2008-01-07T15:05:10Z

A little goes a very long way… Late morning on Electric Avenue in Brixton, a young man in a blood stained white over-all selling halal meat is tapping his foot to the blaring gospel beats from across the way. Food everywhere, on market stalls, in small shops on the periphery of the market and even more down slender alleyways. You’ll be wise to take a second or two to observe. I spot a lady with what seems to be the must-have accessory around here; a wheelie shopping basket - in tartan preferably. A TARDIS bursting with what can only be assumed is food, lots of it. I have a sense nothing goes to waste in her kitchen as she selects the perfect amount for the job, keeping her eye on the scales, one less plantain here add two more sardines there - a lady on a mission. If she needs more tomorrow, she will be back to replenish her pantry with fresh food. After making her selection the produce gets bagged up and disappear into her already full basket, then a slight hesitation. Here comes the bartering, the lady asks how much she owed while fiddling for her purse. She feigns shock at the price and asks for a punnet of oranges to be thrown in. It falls on deaf ears. The vendor only half listening now turns his attention towards the next customer. I can only assume he has heard it all before. He takes the warm coins from her hand, it is fifty pence short, he winks at her and shouts: ’You can sort me out tomorrow Love!’ she smiles back. Love indeed! As I turn the corner the get some of my own shopping done I get stuck behind a lady and her tartan trolley, no longer annoyed at their snail’s pace, but comforted by the knowledge that she is counting in head, turning every penny and calculating how many mouths there are to feed until the next trip to the market. I have a sneaky feeling I’ll bump into her again if I were to be back here at the same time tomorrow. Watch the experts at work, you could learn a trick or two!

Magic Turkey

2007-12-18T17:05:14Z

An infatuation started with something I have had very little to do up until then. As a child cooking was not the main focus in our household. Eating however was. No shortage of delicious fresh produce, in abundance, tables heaving under its weight. Meals appeared as if by magic, prepared lovingly somewhere else. Like clockwork three times a day always served at set times. No older than eight or nine at the time when an aunt of mine prepared a ‘Magic Turkey’ I have never had turkey in my life let alone a turkey stuffed with a variety of other fowl! Somehow perplexed I went to bed on Christmas Eve contemplating the bird, Santa’s offering somewhere in the back of my mind. Up bright and early going through the motions but still only one request from my lips ‘can I see the turkey?’ The anticipation was getting the better of me. The smell of something roasting in the wood-burning oven was the clue that this turkey could be for real. And then it appeared. A giant golden bird. Defeated on its back, heavy with promise. An explanation preceded the carving ceremony. The turkey we see before us was stuffed with a goose, in turn stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a pheasant, stuffed with a quail and lastly a pigeon with a couple of quail’s eggs in its cavity! After a short enthusiastic applause the carving commenced. Slivers of different coloured meat like a monochromatic rainbow fell on the serving plate. Elegant, not like the struggle between a grown man armed with large, sharp utensils and some greasy bird I was accustomed to. My enquiring mind very nearly at rest by now. One last question: “Where are the bones?” Maybe it was the seven white wishbones arranged on a dainty plate that reminded me? The birds were de-boned was the answer came from my aunt. Great! Now I know it is possible to create a ‘Magic Turkey’ with some human intervention, but how on earth do you shake the bones out of a duck I wondered?

On eating oysters by oneself

2007-11-21T00:11:35Z

Dining out serves so many purposes for a lone diner like myself. It gets one out of doors in search of some sustenance and interaction with others of our species. Success is not always guaranteed. Timing is essential for this type of outing, firstly you take up space of at least two people but only spend for one, most restaurants do not encourage this and so would often ask if you would be joined by someone. This kind of petit intimidation rolls off my back and I try to avoid it by choosing to dine either earlier or later. I always try to eat raw food as a subtle trade-off with the chef. If you know the place, order without looking at the menu, everything at once. By now the tables are turned, the staff baffled and you will be at your ease minding your own business. By the time you slip the oysters down your throat [sans utensils] eat the carpaccio, steak tartare or cured fish with only a fork - you have won them over! Espresso down in one then the bill. As I leave I can feel their eyes hear their hushed tones ‘Will he be back?”

The Lone Diner

2007-11-20T20:11:34Z

The way to a man’s heart……..

Sweet nothings........

2007-11-20T20:10:14Z

Sweet Little Nothings

2007-10-11T14:25:42Z

With time to kill mid-afternoon I headed for the Covent Garden Hotel in need of a cup of tea and something sweet. The tea wasn’t a problem, only there was no cake? The waiter suggested something from the dessert menu, things were looking up. Banana Tart Tatin should do the trick? Moments later it arrived. Stumps of banana the colour of a cadaver, topped with chocolate ice cream and sprigs of mint. This can’t be true I thought. My idea of fresh ripe bananas caramelized in a hot skillet with butter and sugar, then crowned with pastry and baked all of a sudden resembled the weather outside. Cold.
Mid-May could be glorious but instead turned out grey just like the little tart. The waiter assures me the chef baked these himself the night before and stored them in the fridge, he saw it with his very eyes! The poor man’s mislead enthusiasm and my obvious disapproval called for one thing - the bill.

Does size matter?

2007-04-23T20:17:55Z

When it comes to food I’m afraid it does! Unlike the bulky two for one deals we are faced with everyday the smaller option might just serve you better…
Lugging home a bumper-pack of your favourite fruit only to find it tasting of water. The only cure for this I suppose is to keep trying, another, and another, just to make sure you have not been had. Before long you are faced with a lone nectarine devoid of promise and stripped from its appeal. Sad. What lured you into this? Economics? Or greed?

Two for one offers have their uses. Turn your fruit bowl into a cornucopia cascading onto the kitchen table but remember: Do Not Touch!

Same rules should be applied to cakes and pastries.