Cosmopolitan food porn

While it's true that living in London means that experiencing any real wilderness requires a few hours travel in any direction (unless you count Croydon in that category); for the committed outdoor foodie there are some occasional positives.

This weekend was one of those. The Real Street Food Festival held on the South Bank jammed outdoor eateries from around the world on Queens’ Walk at the Southbank Centre.

And, unusually for a November lunchtime it was dry (the driving rain came a little later in the day). So what better way to while away your Sunday than wandering around the stalls - taking in the sights, the smells and the samples?

So without further ado here are some pictures I took of just some of the things on offer. I didn't manage to capture any of the banter from the stall holders. Which is a pity, because it's the human element that makes the outdoors such a great place to meet and eat. No reservations, no being rushed off your table, no ear-bleedingly loud music in the background. Just people tasting, trying and sharing. 

With old Father Thames as a perfect backdrop

Campfire magic at Embers campsite?

Just a couple of weeks after our US road trip, we were camping again, in a much more conventionally British manner, joining the hordes escaping London for the August Bank Holiday.

Unusually for me, I'd booked a campsite a few months before - Embers. I think I'd found the website while searching for New Forest campsites which allowed fires - because that exactly what it is. For anyone south of the river, the New Forest is pretty much the nearest National Park. It's also a lot easier a drive than heading southwest to Devon or Dorset. Our last journey to Eweleaze Farm on that same weekend was a brutal five hours of stop start tedium. 

The website was pretty slick. It not only promised us 'campfire magic' but also had a very easy to use booking system. So that was that 3 nights booked in a few clicks, courtesy of my long suffering credit card. And at £20/adult/night and £5/child/night it wasn't especially cheap - £150 all up.  By contrast, Eweleaze is £7.50/adult.

So what do you get for that?

For starters you get a call to your mobile on the Friday night to check that you're on your way and that you will be arriving. Well that's what we got anyway. Of course this may well be simply for the site's benefit to make sure that they have no empty pitches - but it made me feel like we mattered to them. Quite a difference to most campsites I think.

On arrival Zoie (? I think that's how she spelt her name), walked us up to the pitch - again a nice touch. The site is in a small orchard on the edge of a large field. It's not huge - 30 tent pitches in all and really quite close together, in slightly unimaginative rows. Each has a fixed fire pit, complete with a pot stand and cover. The ground is pretty flat and there was enough space to pitch even our huge tent. Also, because its next to a wood, it's quite sheltered from the wind. 

Fixed fire pit 

A row of terraced tents

When it comes to wood at campsites my general experience is that a bag is nearly always a fiver. What is always different is the size of the bag - with those irritating mesh sacks the worst value - rarely containing more that 5 logs. The bags at Embers are Morrisons bag for life shopping bags. And as well as being pretty large they also include a decent amount of kindling - so I thought it was fair value.

Cars had to be parked back down near the office after unloading, which was fine for us. Although the kids are much older now, I still don't like cars around campsites. So the only the chance of being knocked down was by one the carts provided for loading and unloading being used for racing purposes! Given the number of kids, this was not an unimaginable hazard. There's also a big flat open field perfect for frisbee, footie and kites etc. 

Cart without kids

The toilets, showers and washing up room are about 300 metres away. There are only 6 showers and 2 washing up basins, but to be fair I can't recall there being any queues. Everything was cleaned regularly. Importantly, there is a fresh water tap near the tents - so at least there was no ned to lug jerry cans of water any distance.   

The shop/office/reception down by the shower has all the usual leaflets etc as well as a small selection of essentials. We'd brought most stuff - but we did try a few things. Local sausages - pretty good. The bacon - pretty grim. If there's one thing I can't stand it's cheap, water-injected bacon. Sling a rasher of it on the griddle and watch as the water sweats out accompanied by some kind of white slime. Ugh. And given that there are a bunch of farm shops literally around the corner - how hard could it be to do a deal with one of them? They've obviously given food some thought,  the breakfast packs - all you need for a decent fry up for a tenner - are a great idea, particularly when they deliver them to your tent door.

Cute - apparently 

Another good thing is the farm tour that you could go on. This lasted about an hour and allows kids (or adults for that matter) to actually get up close and handle some of them. Aside from true farm animals like pigs and goats It also includes several more cute things - rabbits, chicks etc.

View of the Beaulieu

But of course for a campsite to be good, it also needs to be in a good location. Everybody has their own criteria - but a few things seem pretty universal: a decent pub nearby; a supermarket an easy drive away; interesting things to do nearby and walks that don't require you to drive anywhere. There's a large Tesco 10 minutes drive away - if you need to get in a big shop.

Embers is just outside Beaulieu, which has the requisite pub and in the form of a motor museum, at least one interesting thing to do, providing you like cars. I can't stand cars, but I really liked the walk recommended by Embers down to Bucklers Hard. This wanders along the banks of the Beaulieu along a well made path with some really great views. It's about 5 km or so, making it pretty doable for most people, and a great 10km run if you're a jogger at all.

Bucklers Hard is a rather amazing place where they used to make ship of the line during the Napoleonic wars. You can walk between the two rows of terraced cottages where the keel of the ship would have been laid. We didn't do the museum but we did check out the pub - the Master Builders. Nice staff, great views of the river and good beers. The food got mixed reviews. The chips and ploughmans were fine but kitchen please note - make sure the fat you fry fish fingers in is sufficiently hot. No one likes greasy fingers.

The New Forest proper is easy to get to from the campsite and we had a great day cycling from Brockenhurst, courtesy of Cyclexperience. I think we must have got the last few bikes they had. They also provided maps and routes, which made for quite a fun 12 or so miles, nearly all on cycle paths apart from a quite busy section round Lyndhurst. So that  covered the interesting things nearby for me.

So, will I go back to Embers? Possibly. It is pricey, but it's also small, friendly and has a great location - both itself and the surrounding area. Was there any campfire magic? Well yes there was. Apart from a bit of rain on the Friday night, the weather was pretty good and perfect for sitting around the fire. We cooked nearly everything on the fire: from the baked potatoes to the corn and the roast beast. We even managed a bit of a puppet show!

Obligatory food shot

How the time flew by

 And they clearly want to listen to their customers' views - a few days after the  trip I received an email from Murray McPherson there, saying thank you and asking for feedback. Like the call on the Friday, I think that's a first. So my advice to Murray is to sort out the bacon, go easy on the pricing and don't grow too big.

Grilling the American dream

You can tell a lot about a nation driving through it. You can tell even more camping and cooking through it. 

In July we took a road trip through some of the South Western states of America - Colorado,     Utah, Arizona, Nevada and California - in an RV. And what a trip it was. Much of the time, my prejudices were confirmed. 

Our RV was frankly pathetic compared to others...

At 25 feet, our RV from Cruise America seemed huge to us; power steering, air con, fridge freezer, shower, you name it, it had it. But at almost every place we parked up, ours was the smallest van...by a country mile. Most other RVs seemed to be the size of coaches, with multiple levels,flat screen TVs and rooms that expanded out to the side, pulled by huge pickups and possibly with a Harley Davidson strapped to the back. 

Short....but quite broad!

Food portions were similarly large. In most diners, the short stack of breakfast pancakes, was only small in comparison to the tall one.

My daughters like pancakes as much as the next person, but not once could they finish even three of those bad boys.






So far so obvious. But what I hadn't expected was how damn polite everyone was. Almost every person we met was attentive, helpful and considerate. The salesman at AT&T was helpful, polite and knowledgeable. The fact that I am still owed $60 by them, because my phone couldn't actually work with the SIM I bought, is more do with their truly terrible online customer services experience. But no matter.

The Rangers at all three Parks we stayed at, were uniformly (geddit) pleasant. Talking about what makes a good carnivore (eyes in front, kill and hunt - since you ask) or explaining what we should do in the event of a thunderstorm while on the trail down the Grand Canyon (squat down away from a tree and pray I think), all of them were a credit to Rangerdom (?).

Why can't we have these in the UK?

And the parks themselves were just fantastic. The ability to book a specific pitch in advances just amazing (but book early - the window is open 6 months in advance) at Recreation.gov was just amazing. You could even look at a photo of your pitch. And when you arrive, the label is already in place.

And what pitches. At just $20 or $30, they are incredibly good value. OK, there's no hook up or even line-in water. But there is a sturdy, ready made fire pit. And as for the views...

I think that Arches was our favourite. Right in the middle of the Park (in Devils Playground), just a few spaces (pull-through luckily given my driving skills). Just park and scramble up the nearest block of sandstone to reveal jaw-dropping views. Particularly at sunset or sunrise.

You don't get this in the New Forest.

As you might expect, cooking was quite a big part of the trip for me. And using the afore-mentioned fire pitsI applied myself to the task in hand. This being America ribs and burgers featured heavily. Bizarrely I couldn't seem to find ribs with any actual ribs in them anymore - they all seemed de-boned. But on the upside there were a number of rubs and sauces to try 

out.

We also managed to squeeze in a few vegetables on the journey.

Nothing too crazy - peppers, corn, that kind of stuff.

And mostly washed down with beer. Really delicious, properly crafted, beer. That was another surprise for me. My last recollection of US beer was the insipid and bland, mass produced stuff like Rolling Rock or Coors. But these days it seems that every town in every state, no matter how teeny has a micro-brewery, putting out small-run, highly-tasty brews. A particular fave was Fat Tire - not just the name, but also the taste. So often these brews are a little heavy on the hops - making them so floral that you'd think you'd been drinking the water from out of a vase.

It's quite easy to take the mickey out of America (or do I mean Americans?). But I can honestly say that when it comes to camping - friendly people, great value campsites and tasty beer, come high on my list of must haves.

And they aren't always that easy to find in the UK.


Just a thought...

History lesson

These days we take so much for granted: bright electric lights that allow us to see what we're doing irrrespective of the time of day or where we are; heat at the flick of a switch, and       food that's ready to eat and packed with calories.

I got a glimpse of what life might be like without these things by visiting a Tudor recreation at Kentwell house a month or so weeks ago. If you get the chance you should go - the house and grounds alone are worth it, but with populated by an entire household it's a truly engaging day out. 

Cheesetastic

What struck me most was just how bloody hard life was then. Cooking was over an open fire every meal every day, not just when it seemed a nice idea. The ingredients you had was what you had grown or slaughtered yourself. No shops, no Ocado. Even the cheese had to be made from scratch (and of course from a bit of calves stomach). 

So of course, meat was rare (unless you're one of the gentry) and every bit of everything is used. Real nose to tail dining. 

Potage was a lot of dried beans and a few veg. 

And there was no sugar. 

Honey, maybe. Apples and plums for sure.

Chewy beer

But none of the white stuff (though Raleigh and the rest of the exploring capitalists would soon be sailing the world and stealing whatever wasn't nailed down). 

Beer was thin and weak (no sugar to turn into alcohol) but preferable to the water from the moat! Not quite a modern IPA I can tell you.





The day after, I took part in the round London Sportive. 100 kms round the North Downs and including ZigZag road up Box Hill. And here, energy in the form of gels, drinks or even jelly babies was in abundance. Cheap, plentiful energy whenever you wanted it. And boy, did us middle aged men (for the most part) in frankly unflattering lycra want it. You'd think we hadn't been fed for days as an unruly queue formed at the feeding stations jammed their mouths with brightly coloured sweeties.

Not surprising I guess, given that my Runkeeper log reckons I spent 2,367 calories getting around the course. 

Probably not nearly as much as it took to work in the fields in the late 16th century. 

I don't really know what I'm trying to say here - except that we should be grateful that we live in a time when we can do things like cycle 100kms just for the hell of it. 

Cooking or carving? No contest

Well, this is certainly a first. Nearly 1 year and 23 posts on and here I am recommending ready meals. The horror, the horror.

But before you all decide to never read this blog again, ever, at least consider my defence.

There are some occasions when food has to take a back seat and no where is this more true than the dads' surfing weekend.

After months of debate a date has been fixed - well in advance of having any idea of what the swell will be like. A lovely holiday cottage has been rented. Complicated pick up rotas have be
agreed.

Only two things are certain:

1. Leaving London on the Friday will be long and painful
2. If the waves are any good we will want to spend as much as possible on them (or in my case in them)

Which is when the ready meal as supplied by the Waitrose £10 dinner for two comes into it's own.

Rather have than 4 grown men stumble round a supermarket trying vainly to come up with some kind of coherent menu, in 20 minutes I have spent £41.95 (bizarrely not buying a 4th bottle of wine adds to the price!) and got starter, mains, puds and wine all sorted.

Simply bung it in a coolbox, sling in an ice block and load it alongside boards, wetsuits and the rest of the essentials. 

Then, when you finally arrive in Wales some hours later, you can turn the oven up high and be eating a pretty tasty pizza with salad in about 15 minutes. Which compares favorably with trying to find a restaurant where the kitchen will stay open after 9.45, which isn't a curry house).
So that's Friday sorted.

And Saturday is equally easy. No need to cut short your attempts to perfect our bottom turn (crouch, reach with the arm opposite to your front foot and lean into the rail since you ask). By the time you get back after you have finally struggled out of your wetsuit and had that post surf beer, it will be later than you think. But again the ready meal is your friend. Place in oven and heat through while you have a shower and try to get the last few grains of sand out of your ears.

Now I appreciate that to some eyes, this post could show me as a total impostor - all my talk of the importance of cooking fresh, real ingredients disappearing like oil into a frying aubergine  when things get tricky.

And those eyes may be right.

But in the final analysis, as a wannabee surfer based in the smoke, the point of these weekends is to be in the water. And anything, but anything, that will help maximise that, is worth it.

Including looking like something out of Woody Allen's "Everything you wanted to know about sex...." 

Fact.

Black is so flattering.

Ribbed for my pleasure

It's a sad fact, but quite often I am guilty of quickly scanning a recipe and thinking that although I don't have all the ingredients or really enough time, I can probably wing it. 

And quite often I am wrong. 

And the last bank holiday weekend was no exception. The forecast was good, with a whole day extra of weekend courtesy of May Day. 

So having spent big on a half leg of lamb (great butterflied and grilled fast directly over the coals) I threw caution to the wind - and my wallet to the wolves - and added 2 racks of ribs. 

Quickly scanning the internet for a recipe, I found one on the Guardian - from an award-winning BBQ chef no less.
I had no more than 50% of the ingredients listed; no oven thermometer and only 3 hours to spare rather than the 4 or so mentioned, but I pressed on anyway.

And I'm pleased I did. Because somewhat unusually the end result was really really good. So here's what I learnt.

The first stage of slow, indirect, cooking in a lowish heat, can be done in about an hour. The crucial thing is to apply a dry rub with some paprika and sugar and a few herbs (well that's all I had anyway).

The wrapping in foil needs to be super-tight because the sweet stuff of honey and sugar - is apt to leak unless it is. But again it doesn't require every ingredient and the full amount of time.

What really makes the difference is a decent BBQ sauce - with some heat and depth to contrast with the sticky ribs. And my big tip here is to use some dried chipotle chilies along with plenty of brown sauce and ketchup. They make a real difference to the flavour. In fact the sauce I had was made a couple of weeks before from a hairy bikers recipe. Given the high sugar and vinegar content this will keep perfectly well in the fridge for that time. 

I'll never know if my ribs would have been as good if I'd followed the recipe, but it did prove that sometimes we get too concerned about following a recipe to the letter, when actually using our own judgement would work out just as well.

Lovely Weber for ducks

Excuse the truly terrible pun, but my post today is a bit of a thank-you to the good craftsmen of Palatine, Illinois. Because that's where (I hope) my now rather aged barbecue was made.

For the last decade countless ingredients and recipes have been plonked on it's bars. From artichokes to zucchini (sorry for the Americanism but it's the only thing I could think of I've cooked on it with a Z) and everything in between. 

And it's not just the fact that it's solidly built that makes it so good, it's the kettle lid that makes it so useful. Yesterday was a typical April day in the UK - bright sunlight through light showers  to a heavy hailstorm in just a few hours. We had a few people round for dinner - and while dining outdoors wasn't join to work, cooking outdoors certainly was. 

For the kids I made lamb burgers - road-tested by the girls who say that this linked recipe (without the chilli) is the best. These are best made in advance and with the aid of a crumpet ring - which allows you to make them flatter and firmer. What you lose in rustic charm you gain in easier turning and more even cooking. The mince was from the Balham Farmers Market - from marsh lamb and not too fatty.



For the 10 adults I bought a couple of chicken and decided to spatchcock them to make them a bit quicker to cook. Quite simple to do - simply take off any string, place in front of you breast down with the parsons nose pointing south and with a sharp knife (or poultry shears) cut out the back bone and flatten out. The uncooked item I must admit is a little unappealing (particularly if you've seen Eraserhead) but persevere and give it a dry rub of paprika, lemon zest and crushed garlic and leave for an hour or so 

You can then bung it on the Weber - using the handy charcoal dividers so that they can cook indirectly over a drip tray. This of course is where the genius of the kettle lid kicks in. Whatever the weather, snug under the dome your chicken will be cooking but not burning. You need simply amble out into the garden a few times to check. As you get close to dinner time you can also cook the burgers directly over the coals - meaning you can extract the maximum value from your charcoal or briquettes (because let's be honest, they aint cheap, especially the UK coppiced stuff).

And while the Weber is doing is the heavy lifting, you can use your oven to cook something that will fill your home with one of the nicest smells I can think of - baking bread. Because I had the time and space to I cooked focaccia. Having tried a few recipes I have to report that the best (and also the most fiddly) by far is that from Ottolenghi. What with making a sort of porridge starter dough and two proves, you need a good 3 or 4 hours spare to do it properly. I normally make the one quantity of dough but halve two of the toppings and use both - one at each end. 

Last night featured grape and fennel seed on the left flank, while on the right it was the turn of red onion and goats cheese to face the music. I'm pleased to report that both turned out well - and far better than most of the shop bought ones I've tried.








It all worked really well and compensated for the fact that I was only in London because our surf trip to the Gower had to be postponed due to a lack of wave. Ironically we were also testing a new beer made here in SW12 by Belleville Brewing, called Thames Surfer! We also tried the Northcote Blonde and the Commonside Pale Ale. All good, but unsurprisingly found the Surfer superior. 

Me and the Weber

So as rainy nights in London go, last night was pretty damned fine. Mostly down to having a great bunch of mates (and family obviously), but also thanks to Weber Stephens of Palatine Illinois.















Thanks guys.

Music to chop veg by?

For me, music and cooking go together like bitter and pork scratchings. There's nothing finer than a suitable soundtrack when the knives come out (ask Tarantino!).

But are there specific tunes for cooking as opposed to other activities? And does being outside make any difference?

So this is something in the way of an experiment. I've created a Spotify playlist called The cook outside. I'd like EVERYBODY who reads this blog to subscribe to it and add ONE song that they think is perfect for the chef outdoors. If you don't have a Spotify account then add your suggestion in Comment and I'll add it. If you can, forward it, retweet or otherwise pass it on to other like-minded foodies. Let's see how many tracks we can get .

What's your perfect pitch?

For the first time ever we've just received a door drop promoting a campsite. Given that we live in Balham this is not for one on the Kent coast with a shop,entertainment and heated pool but one called Ember something. It seems to be down near Beaulieu and as the name suggests features the joys of campfires.

As the name of this blog suggests, a fire is one of my essentials when choosing somewhere to go, but it's interesting to have a think about what else makes a difference. 

Getting there
Being in London means that proximity to wide open spaces is not good. The result is that there's some hard yards to go before we get anywhere. So high on my list of good things is a site that's accessible and easy to get to, particularly at weekends. Hardly any sites fault, but having spent nearly 7 hours getting to Eweleaze Farm in August, nothing kills the joy of tents like a long time stuck in the car. And that includes decent parking and trolleys etc when you get there. The guys at Wowwow memorably gave us a lift in a trailer on the back of a quad through the snow when we went there a couple of years ago.

The space you're in
There seem to be 2 types of site:

• The big field - rolling fields where you simply find a space that's not occupied
• The individual suite - usually with a comedy name

I'm pretty agnostic about which is better. 

The Eweleaze view

For the former what you want is something to look at. I have to say that the Eweleaze view is pretty hard to beat. The disadvantage is that you are sharing it with thousands of others, so if silence is golden for you, think carefully before making the trek

A stand of tough-looking trees

For the latter, you are swapping the view for seclusion. And the price of that seclusion is trees, lots of trees. Trees are both friend and foe. Friend in that they allow you to rig up tarps and hammocks at will. But when the sun goes down, make no mistake they are your foe. After a few glasses of anything stronger than Ovaltine (other bedtime drinks available) your ability to gauge distance is impaired. And having been knocked over more than once by a chunky bough you may regret that arboreal haven you chose. Wowow is particularly treey (is that a real word?) and none the worse for that - 

The facilities
It's a sad fact that the British are somewhat toilet obsessed (blame Thomas Crapper I suppose) and therefore their state is more important than anything else. For the cost-conscious campsite owner, it's a lot easier to dig a few deep pits and plonk a small garden shed on them than invest in many miles of pipework. To my mind the long drop or composting is infinitely preferable to the portaloo. 
But whatever is there or not there, the crucial point is that the staff regularly visit them - to clean that is rather than use! A judicious use of woodchips is particularly welcome for the average long drop - particularly at the end of the season.
Some kind of shower is also a boon - though most of the kids (and some of the adults) tend to develop acute hydrophobia under canvas. These are bound to be a bit on the spartan side, especially if they rely on solar power. But there are bonuses. The sound of birdsong as you get in the open top shower at Blackberry Wood  is particularly lovely.
And finally some kind of washing facility should be high on your wish list. You can of course make do with heating your own water and using your own washing up bowl (a builders trug is great for that). But you will have to accept that you will simply be moving dirt around an item rather than actually getting it clean.

The staff
Campsites are basically service businesses. So any site that has staff who understand that will be going to the top of my list. By that I mean staffed by people who know the site inside out and have all the vital knowledge - just how far is the walk to pub and what is the food like there? And staff who will take the initiative and sort stuff out. It's inevitable that there will be double bookings and pissed groups - it's how the campsite team deals with them that makes the difference. Britchcombe Farm near Uffington is a lovely site run (or was as I've not been there for a couple of years) by a woman who understood that perfectly.

You
The most important factor in what makes a great campsite is you.

Yes, you.

Campsites bring us all together cheek by jowl like nothing else. And without wanting to come over too John Stuart Mill, thinking solely about yourself will seriously impact on others. 

So, maybe lay off the bongo drums and that rendition of Land of Hope and Glory after say 11.00pm. Don't leave your rubbish strewn around or drive your 4x4 around the campsite. Lend or given someone stuff they may have forgotten. 

Because what really makes a great campsite is great people.

I've booked a night or two at Embers. I'll let you what it's like.

Sunday service

As some of you who know can tell, when it comes to our existence on this beautiful planet I am more Dawkins than divine. 

But, callous atheist that I am, a family Sunday has more than a bit of the sacrosanct about it.  And today was a good example. An early start, due to an away hockey match at Richmond, meant that from 11, the rest of the day was clear. 

Of course a lot of that time is spent on tasks that have a low thrill potential. Waitrose is hardly a go to destination,even with the draw of a £5 voucher (which I suspect I more than over-compensate for). And helping with homework has the capacity for unpleasantness which can barely be imagined. Today it was literacy circle for one and calculating perpendicular lines in trig for the other. But luckily we seemed to get through both with barely a stomp of a foot or a raising of the voice.

Which then allowed us to focus on more interesting stuff. For me, a chance to test out my preserving thermometer on some rather fine Seville oranges.

And with M helping me, the tedious job of slicing orange rind was halved. I suspect that what we had created was what can only be described as super-thick cut and there was a lot of taking the pith; but hey it was a joint effort. And even she was a bit agog at the amount of sugar that goes in. I have to admit that I tried to keep her away from the boiling bit. Molten sugar on a fast boil has the potential to be a really really grisly murder method. Has it ever featured on CSI? It should. And even the ladling out was not without it's moments. But here we are with 8 jars of bejewelled orange iridescence. Has the thermometer made it any better? Well it seemed to, but we won't know until the toast comes calling.

And as the seemingly endless stream of washing churned its way from machine to line (heavy rain showers permitting), there was also time to try roasting a lamb shoulder with moroccan spices. Lots of cumin, coriander, cinnamon, garlic, smoked paprika  and chilli. And once J had applied some blunt trauma to the gravy, with couscous (and potatoes roasted in goose fat for E) it tasted pretty fine.

Followed by plum crumble with an almond topping inspired by the Nigel Slater Kitchen Diaries, all in all it made for an almost perfect Sunday supper. 








But actually the part of it that really made the difference was playing cards. Midweek, there seems to be barely any time for anything more than the essentials. But on Sunday we have the opportunity (if we take it) to do something all together. In this case it was knock out whist. While I was on dog's chance in the time it takes to woof, with the other three it was nip and tuck all the way down. There were jokes, some very, very poor poker faces and a lot of fun.

So this post is not really about Fireside Feasts, it's about family feasts. And deep down, it's not about what we eat, its about how we eat - and communicate. 

Finally, if there are any American readers out there - we're planning an RV trip in the summer from Denver to LA, through the parks. What should we cook and take with us in the food line? Any help gratefully received.

Veg box roulette

I suspect that like a lot of people, my reasons for buying a veg box are probably more emotional than rational. That's not such a bad thing in my eyes, farming over centuries has created the landscapes that I love so much, and the relentless pressure to deliver to a supermarket's spreadsheet will see the eradication of the small mixed farms that are such a part of the countryside.

And therefore, for the most part I try to accept that the contents of our medium Riverford veg box is not in my control with good grace. Years ago I had a job interview down there and I remember Guy Watson telling me that they would never give customers the option to choose because it made the box packers job too difficult. I never got past first interview in case you're interested - but I still admire what's been created.

However, right now in the depths of January, my patience is being sorely tested by the seemly weekly appearance of a cauliflower nestling like some grotesque cerebellum in among the cabbages, swedes and parsnips. Reading that back to myself, I appreciate that this sounds a little unhinged, but in my defence it's because nobody, but nobody, in this house likes cauliflower. Not even cauliflower cheese, which for most people is comfort food of the highest order.

So over the last few years my mission come caulitime (like Hammer time but without the comedy trousers) has been to find a way of making this brain of bland half way acceptable to others.

The results?

Well, lets just say, underwhelming.

So far the only thing to even make past first base have been:
- an Ottolenghi char-grilled salad (which is fantastic)
- a chickpea and cauliflower curry from Angela Hartnett (I think).
What both of these recipes have in common is that they add a whole bunch of flavours 

Today, Bill Granger was at the plate with cauliflower fritters.





After the inevitable floretting (is that actually a word?) and blanching....

the dry florets were dipped in a batter of egg yolks, flour, ground cumin, coriander and turmeric, grated onion and garlic, into which was folded egg whites beaten to soft peaks.

then shallow-fried in very hot olive oil, until they were a crisp golden colour all over.









The verdict? A muted OK.

The flavours were there, but without a deep fat frier I have to say that I don't think that these were crispy enough. Also maybe another oil, say rapeseed, with a higher smoking point might have been better. 

But that may not be the point. What's great is that I'm trying new recipes and ideas. In a world where seemingly consumers can get whatever they want, whenever they want irrespective of seasons or the carbon footprint, it's good sometimes not to take the easy way.

Oh and apologies that this post has nothing to do with cooking outdoors, but with London hovering just above 0 degrees night and day I wimped out of getting the stove going.

And can anybody out there give me some knockout cauliflower recipes?