6 posts tagged “food”

 
Baking research
Originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good

Since returning from holiday, I've set my sights on one very important goal.

It may seem to early to be thinkign about it, but as much as people want to deny it Christmas is coming.

With such an important celebration coming up, some individuals find shameless self-gratification in the creation of a whole variety of foodstuffs we wouldn't otherwise eat ourselves or offer up as gifts to friends of family.

Those same people suddenly start pouring over recipe books in a bid to find the formula for the perfect Christmas. If we can only find the perfect recipe we could, potentially, give the perfect gift.

According to Delia Smith, I should technically be starting the prep for the stalwart Christmas cake on Thursday night. Brilliant. I rub my hands together with glee. I get to start the cooking process on Thursday night. I can't wait.

Then there's the preserves (apparently, again according to Delia, these have to be left in a cupboard for three months before consumption) and sundry sweet titbits.

All of this adds up hours of baking joy to be had in the run up to the main event.

Normally I'm foaming at the mouth when I clap eyes on wrapping paper or gift catalogues or big expensive gifts showcased in high street stores and internet websites. But where food is concerned, forward planning is not only fun and acceptable but advisable to.

Such a shame that work is getting in the way.

Sunger Pizza
Originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good

"How much is the hotel buffet?"

I could hardly believe what I heard so I got the receptionist to write down the figure before double-checking with an unsuspecting member of poolside staff.

The first figure was indeed correct. The buffet would cost £41 each.

Having spent a good hour devouring four courses at breakfast (breakfast opening hours run from 7am to midday) from what was a generously stocked buffet, the idea of us forking out £100 for an evening buffet seemed a little steep and, quite possibly a waste of money, as well.

We trundled off into nearby Bodrum instead. Simon suggested I might like to drive. I jumped at the chance.

I was being a twat of course. Twenty four hours in holiday mode and I'd forgotten that driving anywhere outside the UK means sitting on the wrong side of the car, getting used to using the controls with my right hand instead of my left and negotiating scarily conditioned roads. By the time I'd got to the centre of nearby civilisation - the 'Turkish St Tropez' according to the handbook - and parked the car in the packed-to-bursting car park, I was a nervous wreck. Thank God I had a packet of Amber Leaf in my back pocket and sufficient skins to subdue my increased heart-rate.

We plumped for "Sunger Pizza" in the Marina. It was recommended by the blokey in the burnt orange shirt on Concierge that evening. "I remember this place," squealed Simon, "it was recommended on Trip Advisor."

My cynicism always assumes that most if not all Trip Advisor recommendations are written by those who actually work at the estbalishments. Not so at Sunger's Pizza where the staff are so busy running around looking after the customers spilling onto the pavement, I doubt they've seen a computer in months let alone logged on to the internet.

The food was appealing and we were hungry hence we ended up ordering three starters from the menu, a chicken parmigaeano and a lamb shish. We'd peaked just at the point we'd completed our meal. Our timing is impeccable.

We did look like a couple of lemons when we first arrived, it has to be said. Whilst the staff do understand English, I don't think they necessarily knew what to do with a couple of blokes slightly overdressed for the ocassion unsure what the etiquette was when it came to claiming a table. One very pushy lady and her female jumped in in front of us. I glared at her in my usual style, but it seems this was somewhat lost on her.

Still, no matter. The atmosphere - once we got used to it - was convivial and we ate at half the price of the hotel rate. Sunger Pizza on the sea front in downtown Bodrum comes heartily recommended.

The only fly in the ointment was the drama we missed back at the hotel ...

What was your biggest cooking disaster?

Around about the time that people suddenly jumped at the chance of re-enacting Nigella Lawson's sassy preparation of groovy food, I succumbed to one of her recipes in her first How To Eat.

Ham cooked in Coca-Cola looked good on the page and oozed glamour - probably more to do with the words Lawson used more than anything else. The idea that a joint of ham could be cooked in something as ubiqutous as fizzy pop seemed appealing. "Haven't you tried the ham cooked in Coke? You must dahling .. it's simply divine."

We figured we'd christen the ham cooked in Coke with a special family gathering. Six people sat around the cramped table in what had become quite unexpectedly smelly as the ham cooked. Everyone was, inevitably, quite excited at the prospect of seeing what this strange idea for a meal would look like.

Whilst it did cook, the truth was that we had seriously underestimated quite how much ham we would need for six people. As a result our guests had a plate consisting of one meagre slice of ham accompanied by limp looking vegetables. (The vegetables had been in the steamer for as long as it took for me to recover from the shock of discovering just how small the resulting joint of ham was) and very watery gravy.

I resolved to give Nigella Lawson's How to Eat book an extremely wide berth from that moment on. It's just not worth the risk.

Whilst I may detest Halloween (and, in actual fact it wasn't really that bad last night), I can't say the same about fireworks night.

Onions

Strictly speaking it should be 5 November, supposedly the day the Guy Fawkes plot to blow up Parliament was uncovered and (excuse the pun) blown to pieces.

For some reason, we choose to mark the failed attempts of an early terrorist by lighting a bonfire, burning his effigy (even when he wasn't, strictly speaking, the architect of the plot) and then going crazy as we watch thousands and thousands of pounds of money go bang in a pitch black sky.

I still don't quite understand how we reconcile all of these things but I'm happy to admit that I don't really want to reconcile them. I love fireworks and I love fireworks night. I get ridiculously excited when bonfire night approaches.

As in previous years, me and Simon and a handful of select people will be going off to the Blackheath fireworks. The place heaves with people on the night. Literally thousands of people make their way to Blackheath village on train and on foot. Forget trying to get there by car. You'll have to park miles away and walk the rest of the way. Hence why our little party will be having to walk for 20 minutes before we watch the free fireworks display along with the hoards of other people.

Then it's back to the house for a special menu of french onion soup and hazlenut and caramel chocolate bars.

Yes, I know you probably don't need to know the menu, but it's because of the food and because of the night that I get ridiculously excited. It's like having a dry run at Christmas. There's a trip to the supermarket armed with a list of ingredients necessary to prepare the best food for the night. Then there's the preparation (we're baking tonight and tomorrow night) hence the large bowl of onions (pictured).

And .. as a special treat .. there will be two flasks of hot chocolate laced with rum to keep us warm whilst we're watching the fireworks.

And no. Sadly, there's no more room left at the inn for this particular event. Sorry.

Christmas fud

From this moment on it's OK to think about Christmas.

Really, it is. The M&S Christmas Food brochure is out.

Ping Pong

It was going to chinese take-away this evening slumped in front of the TV catching up with stuff on the Sky+ box which has spiralled out of control recently.

Instead we ended up going to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (last twenty minutes in 3D at the IMAX hence the glasses) and marvelled at the way Daniel Radcliffe's acting skills had improved.

From there it was a short walk to the latest and greatest London find, restaurant Ping Pong on the South Bank. Brilliant dim sum served up in a suitably groovy atmosphere in an intimate space swathed in dark wood.

Be sure to go, if you're ever in the area.