The joys of getting back to the start.

I do not, nor have I ever owned a dishwasher. The kitchen at Corner Cottage, much like the rest of this lovely home, is small. There is no space for a dishwasher. As somebody who worked as a chef before he really cooked at home I was a bit of a late starter when it came to washing up. For many years it was a task to be avoided until either I or my flatmate finally cracked and went into a 3 hour frenzy to get the kitchen back into shape.
The tiny kitchen in our cottage and the clear standards set by the Beautiful Wife have meant that I have left those lazy days behind. As the kitchen is my domain, I too take the majority of the responsibility for the washing up and slowly, very slowly it is a process that I have grown to love.
Nigel Slater writes in his wonderful book Appetite about the "contented murmur of a full dishwasher from somewhere behind you in the kitchen" at the end of a night. This is not an experience I expect to have. He also talks of how washing up by hand "could be faintly relaxing, especially if you have got the water to the perfect temperature and were taking your time over it".
My experience of washing up is one of getting back to the start point. There is something slightly heroic about entering your kitchen for the first time in the day and seeing everything in its place, everything clean and eager for action, everything just ready. Knowing that my kitchen is ready for its (and my) next adventure is a source of both deep satisfaction and excitement to me. Once I know my cooking space is ready for tomorrow I can sit down and plan. I always feel that, if the kitchen is not ready, then I am not allowed to think about the next meal.
Towards the end of the Great Gatsby, when the whole glorious world has come to an end, the narrator talks of someone turning up at Gatsby's house who was "probably some final guest who had been away at the ends of the earth and didn't know that the party was over." Washing up waiting to happen, seems to me like the people who don't know when its time to go home, they need to be washed and placed back where they belong and then I can relax, with the Beautiful wife and maybe a cat or two.

Why we should love our "Ugly Duckling" food.

There is an dangerous obsession among food consumers in the UK: Conformity.
As a nation we have a view of how a certain ingredient should look and, backed up by the supermarkets, we stick to it. A carrot should be a specific length, specific girth and a very particular hue of orange. An apple should be the "perfect" shape and exactly the right mix of green and rosy red. All loaves of bread should look the same.
This is, of course a complete nonsense, however this myth of food perfection and adhering to very specific norms pervades our supply chains and hence, our cooking. This is not helped by the fact that we have hundreds of highly skilled chefs in the UK who produce dishes which seem awesome in their levels of accuracy and conformity.

Ugly bagels just before the oven

Not quite swans but quite delicious

I have absolutely no problem with great chefs doing this but we are foolish, as home cooks, if we follow the same slavish adherence to "the perfect". When we are feeding those we love, it really is all about the imperfections, much like falling in love itself. The fact that food has, on it, marks made by the hand of the cook is a thing to be celebrated in our homes. The only thing worse than this "perfect" food in our home kitchens is food which has been made to look "rustic" or "paysan". We really are just making something for supper, stop trying so hard!

Just when you think you've come up with a good idea!

In my last post, I suggested that 2016 should be the Year of Cooking from Scratch. Today I found out that some "tin-pot" organisation called the United Nations (whatever that means) has decided that 2016 is the International year of the Pulse! My idea has been trumped!
On a serious note, the humble pulse in all its forms is a great food stuff and may well be the most ethical source of protein on earth. The dowdy image of the pulse probably stems from the rather grim lentil soups may of us faced in our youth, the truth is the range of pulses and the range of cooking methods mean that pulses can really stand, on their own as a central item on the menu.
Who could not be moved by the smooth and spicy draw of a dhal, or the sweet joy of peas popped from the pod into the mouth five seconds after picking. For me, the king of the pulses is the Broad Bean, I look forward to this seasonal treat with the same excitement that I look forward to asparagus, strawberries and plums.
I am still going to continue with my mini campaign for Cooking from Scratch but I will claim extra points, this year, when I cook from scratch using pulses. In some strange ironic twist, I discovered the fact that this was The International Year of the Pulse this morning having served Duck legs on a bed of Puy lentils with a redcurrant gravy last night!
Please take a visit to http://iyp2016.org 

Roast duck leg on a bed of Puy lentils with redcurrant gravy

But it takes so long!

The ingredients ready to go - I love this moment

When I tell people that I make my own bread they often seem a little confused. "How do you find the time?" they ask. The truth is I live a very busy life but making bread does not take a lot of time at all. The active time to make the bread I made today was about 30 minutes. The problem comes when you take into account that those thirty minutes were spread over a three hour period.
Today's loaves were seeded bloomers. I simply added 120gms of a mixture of linseeds, pumpkin seeds and sunflower seeds to my standard white bread recipe and let the yeast do the rest!

Dough brought together and kneaded.

Upon tasting I think my next batch will have either some rye or some wholemeal flower in them. Writing new recipes is, after all a work in progress. Anyone who is reading this by accident or because my slightly weird evangelical zeal for food made from scratch, needs to make their own bread. Your house will smell like a dream and your loved ones will never let you buy a cheap plastic wrapped loaf again!

Ready for the oven.

These two loaves came in at about £1.20 each. They would be about 40p less if one removed the seeds from the recipe. (It is worth noting that additional flavours and textures: seeds, nuts, dried fruit, etc. add a great deal to the costs). Get baking people!

Out of the oven and cooling.

Happy New Year!

This post may come as a bit of a surprise to those of you who thought I had stopped writing this blog but I'm back! Further to this I'm also now tweeting so in due course I shall try to link my twitter account to this blog and bring the whole thing together! For the mean time I am MarkBond@cornetcotcook for those of you who also tweet.
Barely a day, week or year goes past without being given some purpose: Word Aids Day, Anti Bullying Week, and now the Pope has declared this year the Year of Mercy. At the risk of upsetting the Holy Father, I would like to suggest (quite respectfully) that we make this year the Year of Cooking From Scratch. It is high time we took back control of what goes into our food and the best way of doing this is to start with raw, base ingredients and make our food from scratch. I am not suggesting some kind of self sufficiency with everyone raising a few pigs and chickens as we need to be realistic. Sourcing our ingredients well must be a priority and then treating them with the respect they deserve.
People work hard to produce and grow food, often with paltry financial rewards, isn't it about time we made the effort to make the most of every single ingredient? Photos of my first bake of '16 to follow.