The traveller's dream

Motorway Service Stations are, to my mind, places without soul or joy. I know they are there to fulfil a purpose but why must this mean that they lack individuality or difference? The majority of these road side stops are made up of a couple of fast food franchises (Maybe a KFC and a Burger King or McDonalds), a WHSmiths, a coffee multinational, and an uninspiring cafeteria serving overpriced and uninteresting meals which are, at best fuel for the motorist. All this is done at mark up from the normal high street prices.
When I started this blog, I set out to be positive and for this reason I don't want to dwell on the problem of motorway services but I'd like to put forward some ideas for solving these issues. There are several really wonderful service stations on our roads but there are simply too few.
"So," I hear you ask, "what would the perfect service station look like then?"
Well, first and foremost I wouldn't ban fast food, but if we have a burger bar, why not one serving real, possibly organic burgers and real chips cut from potatoes (we could even leave the skin on and really blow people's minds). Of course the ingredients would have to be local and made by people who really care about the food they are making and serving. With the growth in high quality street food at the moment this is not some kind of dream, this can be done.
Then comes the coffee shop - There is a very positive reason why there are some mega-brands in this market - they often serve great coffee! What my perfect service station would have, however, would be a small, independent supplier of coffee (yes they do exist) and again I'd like a bit of traceability and, of course we would be talking Fair Trade here.
Now the real problem: The Cafeteria. There simply has to be a full English breakfast available and, being fair, a lot of service stations get this right. However, at the price that is charged on the road, we should be able to guarantee the provenance of all the pork (outdoor bred and raised) and the eggs must be free range (and I mean small flock, encouraged to feed outside, no nasty chemicals used). There simply has to be Black pudding - cooked to order not allowed to turn into cardboard on a hot plate.
As the cafeteria has to be open for 24 hours a day, it has to serve real meals. What on earth is wrong with the British classics here - Bangers and Mash (with some proper veg), Ham, Egg and Chips and a really good Pie (yes the crust is supposed to go the whole way round)
On to salads - I don't need to say much here except "Go to France and look at what they can do on the road" (Grated carrots, dressed with a little lemon juice and garnished with poppy seeds and toasted almonds, roast vegetables with pesto dressing, grated celeriac with a wholegrain mustard mayonnaise, etc, etc)
While we're on the subject of France why are Confit of Duck, Tartiflette, and the like never available at the British roadside. These are quite cheap to produce compared with a Steak and Kidney Pie and are perfect for filling up the weary traveller.
I need to stop now else I shall rant for hours, but I will leave you with this one thought: There will be no need for the owners of these service stations to change unless people demand it. As with so much in the food industry, people can change behaviour by voting with their feet (or tires in this case)!

Remembering to taste

Every now and then I find myself pulled up short when it comes to taste. For example, last week I was putting together a cous cous salad lunch for the beautiful wife and I boiled off a handful of green beans which came in the weekly veg box from Abel and Cole.
I blanched them for a couple of minutes and very quickly refreshed them under cold water. I could not resist "stealing" one to nibble on as I cooked and this is when I was pulled up short. The flavour was outstanding. I had completely forgotten how utterly amazing a simple green bean can taste. A similar thing happened with broccoli a few weeks ago.
I think the message is clear: I have vowed to taste everything as if we're tasting it for the very first time, who knows where this might lead. I will not take an ingredient for granted.
We have the builders in for a few weeks so I have harvested the last of my tomatoes and potatoes both of which were close to the house. On occasion they were neglected throughout the Summer and on occasion the Summer neglected them too. I shall be making green tomato chutney again during the week!

The Idle Lunch

I met up with a couple of dear friends on Saturday and caught up with each others gossip. We met at the Cross Keys pub in Thame and it was a very civilised way to spend a couple of hours. I am not a Thame resident but I can walk there in about an hour and Saturday was such a perfect day for a walk that it would've seemed a sin not to cross the fields in the company of the last of the swallows, the yellowhammers, buzzards and red kites (always, always kites) and take in the newly harvested land on my way.
I was quite early, because that's who I am, and was able to sit with a half pint and read the local CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) literature which was left for all to peruse. There was the usual bad news of pubs closing and big bad breweries buying up the independents. However, in the literature there was much to be joyful about. I drank beer from the XT brewing company based in a village (Long Crendon) a couple of miles North of Thame. XT has been brewing for less than a year but is already building a superb reputation for itself and I certainly enjoyed both their No 1 ( A blond bitter - citrusy and clean,4.2 abv and right up my street) and No 4 (Their flagship beer - a very drinkable amber ale at 3.8 abv. It would be very easy to spend a whole night on this particular brew and it shows that you do not need stupid alcohol levels to produce great flavour).
The pub itself has its own micro brewery, alas none of their beers we on the ten pumps on the bar ( all of them serving small brewery or cider products). I'll just have to go back sometime soon to try their own beer.
We are also within a very small distance of two more wonderful independents of the brewing industry - The Chiltern Brewery near Wendover and the Vale Brewery in Brill.
We should be so proud of our brewing heritage. British Real Ale is unique to these islands and delicious in all its forms. Yet we listen to our demons who tell us that "its too warm" "I want something lighter" " Its not cool or cold enough" Its time to listen to our better angels and embrace this natural gem of our food and drink culture.
There can be no mistake though:  when it comes to small independent producers of British Real Ale, if you live in the beautiful area north of the Chiltern Hills, then you are truly blessed. So blessed, in fact, that your pint glass surely overflows.

Nothing to cry about.

The last few weeks have been the most amazing period of sport and we have all watched, and felt every emotion possible. Watching tough men and women finally bursting into tears on the podium as years of hard work gets its pay off seems to have become a sport in its own right.
To a cook the tears flow when you get into competition with onions. A colleague of mine asked me today for a recipe for French onion soup. I can only remember two recipes for this classic of French cookery.
While we're talking about classic dishes, this has been changed and adapted so often that it is quite difficult to find the definative recipe - when I've finished typing, I'm off the consult my Elizabeth David books!

My Mother's cheat recipe for French onion soup
Onions
Can of double concentrate Beef Consomme Soup

Fry off the onions very slowly so they caramelise (no I don't mean "burn"). Pop these in a pan with the soup and dilute according to the instructions. Warm to the boil and enjoy with a cheesy crouton.

My Recipe for French onion soup
2lb Onions (red, white or a mix)
3 pints of beef stock (see note)
A sprinkle of sugar
A glug of good Olive oil

Place the oil and onions in a pan and pop on a low to medium heat. As soon as they start to sizzle cover the pan and shake over the sugar. Keep the temperature low and slowly caramelise the onions, stirring often. (This can take up to 30 minutes) When the onions are are nice and golden brown pour over the stock, bring to the boil and simmer (I really mean simmer - not boil like crazy!) for about 40 minutes. Serve with a cheesy crouton (See other note)

Note on Beef Stock - If you're feeling flush, buy some beef stock from the meat counter in most supermarkets. If you are in a more penurious position use cubes. If you have time, make your own beef stock. You could, of course, use a combination of any of these stocks.

Note on cheesy croutons - There are more recipe's for this than there are soup bowls! My preference is for an oven dried slice of good bread (make sure it doesn't take to much colour) with Gruyere on top. This should then be placed on top of the soup and popped under the grill for just a couple of minutes, until the cheese melts.

Allez Les Bleus!

A couple of years ago the beautiful wife and I spent a very pleasant week in Paris. On the last day we stopped for lunch in a little brasserie just north of Place de la Concorde. We ate well, as we had done all week but the thing I remember about the meal was the two young women who sat at a table near us. They were sixteen or seventeen and were clearly on a shopping trip as teenagers the world over do. The memorable thing about these two was the way in which they were perfectly comfortable with the restaurant environment. They were at ease chatting with the waiter and they both ordered Pate du jour and Confit of Duck to follow. There was no affectation or showing off, this was all perfectly perfectly natural to them. How many sixth formers (16,17 and 18yr olds for those who don't speak UK education system) would have this level of food maturity? How many would eat a meal that required an knife and fork? How many would eat a two course meal in a restaurant full of adults?
I'm sure the answer to these questions from a lot of people would be "a few" or "my children are like that" but the truth is "not very many."
There is a grave risk that, in the subtle and quiet food revolution that is taking place in the UK, we might miss out on helping the younger members of society to appreciate the joy of civilised dining - yes, I'm talking about turning off the mobile phone and holding a conversation! If we do not move away from the burgers and nuggets, which are the default position of most of us when out and about then we will have nobody to hand the baton of this amazing food revolution on to.
I look forward to the day when two young women, out on a shopping trip to Oxford Street, stop for a lunch and don't head straight for a shinning edifice of a multinational, fast food outlet and instead find themselves a small restaurant with has individuality, soul and cutlery.
On the subject of Confit of duck, my recipe is below. Everyone thinks this is really complex and "chefy" - its really not!

Confit of Duck
Duck legs (1 per person)
Fat (it should be duck or goose fat but few people are that rich, I use lard) enough, when melted, to cover the duck legs.
Salt

Sprinkle the legs with salt all over and place them all in a bowl leave in the fridge for 6 hours. Pre heat the oven to 150 degrees. Heat the fat in an oven proof casserole on the hob. Brush the salt off the legs and slide them into the fat. Cover the casserole and place in the oven for and hour and a half. Take the casserole out of the oven and allow it to cool at room temperature so that the fat all sets.
At this point it is worth reminding ourselves that this is a method of preserving food and this casserole or earthenware pot would, in the past, have been left in the larder and used weeks later. I'm not sure how long it is safe to keep it at cellar temperature so I tend to put mine in the fridge.
About 45 minutes before you want to use your confit heat the casserole over the hob and lift out the duck legs and wioe them clean of residual fat. Place them on a roasting tray place this in a hot oven for 25 - 35 minutes until the skin is dark brown and crispy and the flesh is moist and falling off the bone. For a Parisienne lunch serve with a crisp salad and matchstick chips. For dinner I tend to serve with crushed garlic potatoes and a red wine reduction sauce and seasonal vegetables.


  

Foodie Saturday!

The Beautiful Wife is on a residential course and I have been left to fend for myself! This usually means that I purchase an heroic quantity of mussels and a piece of long aged, rump steak the size of Wales. I should probably point out at this stage that my favourite solitary meal is not a feast of celebration, its simply that the Beautiful Wife doesn't particularly like steak and dislikes mussels so its the one chance I get to enjoy these two treats.
On Saturday I travelled in from the Chiltens to spend a foodie day in London. Borough Market was every bit as good as I remember it though getting there early was very sensible as by noon it was humming with humanity.
I moved up to the West End, found an interesting Japaneese supermarket and then wandered up to Marylebone for a few treats from La Fromagerie, then onto a train home to eat.
The treats in my bag on my return included some mishapes from Artisan du Chocolate (The liquid salted caramels were emotional), three lovely dried sausages from the guys at Cannon and Cannon (purveyors of really good dried and cured meats from the UK) and a small tin of the most fiery Wasabi I have ever encountered.
I made bread yeasterday ('see what I did there). My usual white loaf and a batch of burger buns for tonight's burgers.
My new Sourdough ferment is not yet up to speed though for the first time I'm using Spelt flour to add some interesting character - My first loaf (which, by legend, should be a disaster) will be out of the oven on Thursday.
Tonight the experimentation with burgers begins - more later..       

I'm back and I'm angry...

We are hungry.
How on earth can a nation with a "top ten" economy honestly call itself civilised when we have large numbers of people needing to go to Foodbanks in order to feed themselves and their children? The Foodbank movement headed up by such groups as the Trussell Trust is a lifeline to over 100,000 people in the UK and they are doing an amazing job but there is no joy to be found in the necessity of such organisations. How dare we allow the nation's children to go to bed hungry? There will always be those in society that do not have the ability to feed their children, however, the numbers of people having to face the very difficult decision to ask for help are so high that this cannot be a problem of some "under class."
If this is the "Big Society" then I, for one, am hungry for a different philosophy.

If you place the terrifying statistics about hunger next to the disgraceful numbers associated with food wastage in the UK then you have to wonder whether some kind of collective insanity has taken over the whole population.

We are at once greedy (check the national obesity figures if you doubt this), and reticent to talk about the food issues that face us as a nation. Jamie Oliver goes into school and highlights the problems and years later we are worried about a Primary School Child photographing and writing about her daily lunch in what was, largely, a very positive blog.
As a nation we demand such great "value" for our weekly shop that we have lost all sense of our own values. We pick up milk at a similar price to water and don't register the fact that it costs a farmer more to produce than he is paid.
In short we are hungry for change; genuine, positive, sustainable change in the food industry.

Its safe now, the rant is over - you can come out from behind the sofa.

The beautiful wife gave me Richard Bertinet's book Pastry for our anniversary earlier this month and, as with all his books, its almost impossible to read without reaching for ingredients and beginning to cook. So far I have cooked:

1. Plum tart- Puff pastry, (yes, I made my own!) franzipan mixed with creme patisserie, and plums from our veg box. (Based on a Apricot Tart recipe).
2. Pork Pies - Hot water Crust, a mixture of bacon, pork belly and shoulder, sage, nutmeg, and a jelly with added sherry.