tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84807637386648725302024-03-13T04:48:23.467-07:00DINNER WITH PATRICKPatrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-16767605425721267662011-04-25T03:03:00.000-07:002011-04-25T03:03:08.722-07:00Zombies, Pastries and The Modern Pantry...<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've always been a fan of post-apocalyptic horror. Scenes of cities we usually associate with frenetic movement somehow totally deserted save for the occasional zombie / reanimated dinosaur. This Sunday was much like one of those days as we awoke to beautiful sunshine and an east London seemingly devoid of all people. Working under the assumption that it was the Bank Holiday that had cleared out the city rather than a flesh eating virus we headed to The Modern Pantry in Clerkenwell to check out their brunch...</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-km0X_Jy9x-E/TbS0Llk9QXI/AAAAAAAAAsU/TNP6nQI68fo/s1600/MP12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-km0X_Jy9x-E/TbS0Llk9QXI/AAAAAAAAAsU/TNP6nQI68fo/s400/MP12.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm always told not to judge a book by its cover but where The Modern Pantry is concerned such superficiality could only inspire confidence. It looks stunning. A long, rustic wooden table with a stack of fresh pastries welcomed us and it wasn't long before a flat white accompanied by a </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">pain au raisin</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> were delivered to placate me until the main event. Now let's just pause a moment and talk pastry. For me it has to have a microlayer of crispiness on the outside with an almost dough like elasticity in the middle. I'd normally opt for my </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">pain</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> to be </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">au chocolat </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">but they'd already been spirited away - the custardy folds of the </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">raisin</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> variety didn't disappoint though. Coffee was pretty good too and it always makes me smile to see the baristas fussing over their equipment like enthusiastic mechanics tinkering with a vintage E-Type. Given the choice I would double the cup size for extra pastry dunkability but I'm a bit of a pig like that... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eRXwZIaWjuA/TbS17-BOACI/AAAAAAAAAsY/bY7bptzm8Dw/s1600/MP1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eRXwZIaWjuA/TbS17-BOACI/AAAAAAAAAsY/bY7bptzm8Dw/s400/MP1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_r4TdXOG6AQ/TbS2DIAR6OI/AAAAAAAAAsc/zYp6LVCq8w8/s1600/MP3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_r4TdXOG6AQ/TbS2DIAR6OI/AAAAAAAAAsc/zYp6LVCq8w8/s400/MP3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ms S. took a liking to the Passion Fruit, Orange, Banana, Yoghurt & Honey Smoothie. It could have been blended with ice for a more refreshing kick but it was still a good prelude to the next course.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EMBmkCo7vKs/TbS2NPPCJ1I/AAAAAAAAAsg/kTzDU_L9wFI/s1600/MP10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EMBmkCo7vKs/TbS2NPPCJ1I/AAAAAAAAAsg/kTzDU_L9wFI/s320/MP10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Act II came in the form of Danish Beer & Cassava Waffles with Bacon and Maple Syrup. If ever a waffle looked like a saturated washing-up sponge then this was the one, but trust me a washing-up sponge never tasted so good. Topped with curls of deliciously caramelized bacon reminiscent of maple coloured wood shavings the combination of flavours and textures was a perfect Canadian symphony. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EMBmkCo7vKs/TbS2NPPCJ1I/AAAAAAAAAsg/kTzDU_L9wFI/s1600/MP10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fd9pHj2o2Sw/TbS3fkmx0iI/AAAAAAAAAsk/tZ9qw8ckzYI/s400/MP5.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ms S. opted for the poached eggs, bacon, mushrooms and grilled tomatoes. A tasty example of all its constituent parts but the dish did have me questioning once again the merits of the grilled tomato. Correct me if I am wrong but is this not the most pointless addition to any breakfast ? Cooked until the centre is reduced to a flavourless moosh whilst the skin is left just tough enough to feel like you are chewing on a prophylactic, I'm skipping this one until Heston gets his hands on it.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pdz-a6x1TxY/TbS4f3De01I/AAAAAAAAAso/Ntq_b2gLRNE/s1600/MP9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pdz-a6x1TxY/TbS4f3De01I/AAAAAAAAAso/Ntq_b2gLRNE/s400/MP9.jpg" width="302" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The conclusion ? The Modern Pantry is a definite must on the London brunch trail and with a quirky menu including the likes of Blueberry & Manouri Pancakes and Poached Eggs with Yuzu Hollandaise I see an imminent return trip. With a pitcher of Restorative Bloody Mary headlining the menu it seems as though zombies are welcome too.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LRN1Ygfla5U/TbS4oCFs-pI/AAAAAAAAAss/I1-z-dySgqQ/s1600/DPP_2001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LRN1Ygfla5U/TbS4oCFs-pI/AAAAAAAAAss/I1-z-dySgqQ/s400/DPP_2001.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-65821187819208106192011-03-21T17:56:00.000-07:002011-03-21T17:56:28.064-07:00Butterbeans, Lamb Shanks and the Shoreditch Nut Huggers...<span style="font-family: inherit;">You have to love the Brits for their idiosyncrasies. Temperatures in London have been reaching a balmy 12 degrees in the last two days and with that the clothes are shedding already... Today's heliocentric worship came courtesy of at least 5 people wearing their tighty whiteys around the pool at Shoreditch House. Bless us, if ever a country were deprived of vitamin D its the UK... ;-) </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now in spite of this heatwave having arrived in my book its still technically closer to winter than summer so with that in mind I've put together a hearty butterbean cassoulet with slow cooked lamb shanks for your dining pleasure...This one is an absolute corker when you're entertaining as once the prep is finished you can stick it in the oven and practically forget it. Plenty of time to wax your summer bits ;-)</span><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/52FrehYpS3k" title="YouTube video player" width="425"></iframe><br />
<br />
This recipe is great for a DIY date so the more TV chef clichés you can incorporate the better.<br />
<br />
2 lamb shanks<br />
1 medium size onion<br />
1 medium size carrot<br />
1 stick of celery<br />
40g lardons<br />
25g pearl barley<br />
1 can of butter beans<br />
2 Toulouse sausages<br />
250ml chicken stock<br />
125ml white wine<br />
1 tbsp tomato puree<br />
1 bay leaf, fresh thyme and rosemary<br />
<br />
Brown off the lamb shanks quickly on all sides in a really hot ovenproof saucepan (steal your mum's Le Creuset) with a good splosh of olive oil then remove meat and set aside.<br />
<br />
Turn heat down to medium and in the same saucepan brown off the lardons before adding the roughly diced carrot, celery, onion and garlic (when throwing ingredients into the pan imagine you are a matador and try shouting "olé!" for dramatic effect).<br />
<br />
When the onion has gone translucent stir in your tomato purée before adding in the wine (nonchalantly from your glass) and reduce by half. <br />
<br />
Next add the pearl barley (give it a good rinse first), bay leaf, a couple of sprigs of thyme and rosemary, half the beans, chicken stock and the lamb shanks. Generously pepper your performance with words like "seasonal" and "locavore" to inspire awe.<br />
<br />
Put a lid on your pan, stick it in the oven on 120°C and invite your date to watch Dances with Wolves (the director's cut).<br />
<br />
2 hours in, press pause and cut each sausage into 8 pieces, fry off and then add to your saucepan with the remaining beans. <br />
<br />
One hour and a few well placed tears (to show your sensitive side) later take the shanks out of the saucepan, reduce the sauce on the hob until thick and serve it all with warm crusty bread.<br />
<br />
Ensure you buy eggs for breakfast.Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-25062637446100936522011-02-05T10:31:00.000-08:002011-02-06T11:34:44.122-08:00A Spot of Dinner at The Mandarin Oriental - A Slightly Biased ReviewIf the world were a playground then British food would probably be the fat, spotty kid in second hand clothes who got bullied by the cool kids.<br />
<br />
Historically, the blame lay with the industrial revolution and Second World War food rationing. Fresh produce became a distant rural memory and food shortages meant the plucky Brits had to get inventive with potatoes. Food became more of a practical consideration than an epicurean extravagance.<br />
<br />
But the tide has changed - God isn't even a DJ anymore, he's a celebrity chef – and he appears to have set up his altar in the Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4s0KnVwOUAs/TU2W6JS-IUI/AAAAAAAAApM/CYInXjx8o8Y/s1600/images.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4s0KnVwOUAs/TU2W6JS-IUI/AAAAAAAAApM/CYInXjx8o8Y/s320/images.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The guests kicked themselves when they realised </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">that little trickster had fooled them once again</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Meat Fruit"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Arriving Odysseus-like to the siren song (“Mr Drake your table is ready”) of three immaculate hosts we were whisked through to our table on a conveyor belt of niceties. By the time we reached our destination I felt I'd made a new BFF.<br />
<br />
First off lets talk kitchen. A culinary wet dream that looks like the lovechild of a Philippe Starck designed fishtank and a Bugatti Veyron it wasn't long before Ms S reminded me that at least a modicum of dinner conversation would be preferable. When half of the restaurant is practically a chef's table and the other half looks onto Hyde Park though its easy to get distracted.<br />
<br />
Now you could well imagine that the sister of a three star Michelin restaurant might employ waiting staff with an attitude to match but like its chubby sibling Dinner not only has helpful waiters - it positively needs them. With a menu that lists such 14th century reduxes as Meat Fruit and Rice & Flesh the food comes complete with a culinary history lesson that quickly skims around 700 years of our gastronomic heritage. But is the Dinner menu all cock and no balls (to use the appropriate olde English phrase) ?<br />
<br />
I'm desperately resisting the urge to go all AA Gill on you but occasionally a smattering of hyperbole is justified. Imagine yourself suddenly transported to a misty forest clearing - in the middle of that clearing is an old ramshackle hut with a moss covered roof. Walking inside you are hit my the smell of wood smoke, moss and the aroma of a stock pot bubbling over a cauldron (most likely tended to by a gnarled old lady who looks like an extra from a Tolkien novel). That's the lamb broth. Then there's the Meat Fruit - at once a perfectly formed tangerine which on further dissection reveals a smooth liver parfait that is surely destined to become a signature dish. Main courses saw a pork chop whose diminutive stature belied a quality bordering on wagyu whilst the green cockle ketchup accompanying the turbot was like the edgy, skinny jeans wearing younger brother to Heinz's tweed wearing older sibling.<br />
<br />
With my insides already planning to take me on a spa day to say thanks, pudding arrived in the form of a moist, squashy brioche and a battery of spit roasted pineapple that evoked rose tinted memories of school puds past. Top this off with a tour around the kitchen by the head chef Ashley Palmer-Watts and by the time we left I felt like it was as much my Birthday as that of the beautiful Ms S.<br />
<br />
Now as the title might suggest, and as those who know me will appreciate, my opinion in all of this is a touch biased. That said the quills of critics far greater than myself have already heaped praise on Mr B's latest offering and though the menu is infinitely complex the dishes themselves are devoid of heirs and graces. With a three month waiting list you sense that Dinner's reputation may become as historical as its menu.Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-54214820142444551792011-01-30T15:10:00.000-08:002011-01-30T15:10:02.175-08:00New Year's Resolutions, The Iliad and a Bowl of Sunday SoupI'm not gonna' lie - when Sunday night rolls around and the whiff of a Firezza Pizza and a slab of Banoffee Pie is luring me, Odysseus-like, upon its calorific rocks its pretty hard to say no. But then the oh so small voice of reason kicks in and reminds me that there's one more day left in January so I may as well "work the program" as Betty Ford may have put it...<br />
<br />
Now when it comes to healthy eating the generally held view is that 1) its a pain in the arse to make and 2) in all likelihood its not going to be armour-plated in either melted cheese, or chocolate. Or both.<br />
<br />
Whilst the shareholders of McDonalds have been furiously working on this conspiracy theory since 1940 my trip to Tesco's this evening pulled a pretty major hole in their argument. Enter a £1.99 bag of pre-cut carrot, swede and potato. Y'see the Covent Garden Soup Company cottoned on to this trick pretty early - take pretty much any random vegetable, cook it up in a bit of stock, season and blend and suddenly you've got a steaming bowl of liquidised awesomeness in the same time it takes to read a copy of the Metro.<br />
<br />
For this recipe I had a bunch of (relatively) fresh coriander hiding out in the back of my fridge but if you're feeling particularly pimp then you could throw in a bit of chilli and even warm it up with a pinch of garam massala. Safe.<br />
<br />
Patrick<br />
<br />
P.S. watch out for next week's video "Patrick Eats a Stuffed Crust Pizza".<br />
<br />
P.P.S. clearly it does not take 15 minutes to read Metro, unless you live in Rajasthan and don't speak English. In which case it still only takes 13.<br />
<br />
<iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/X3Qlp8Mop3Q" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen></iframe>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-52744428775683201892010-08-02T15:18:00.000-07:002010-08-02T15:21:04.106-07:00Haribo, Chickpeas and the Dagenham Caveman...They say that necessity is the mother of all invention and to be fair the evidence is pretty compelling. Take the caveman as an example: <br />
<br />
One day our hairy litttle friend decides he's had enough of sashimi, rubs a couple of sticks together and kazzam you have fire.<br />
<br />
With a new world of culinary choice open to him though the daily commute for groceries becomes a real hassle - enter stage right... the wheel. <br />
<br />
Of course during the Flinstone years the Citizens Advice Bureau wasn't up to full speed and our Neanderthal friend never got his patent application filed. His ancestors now live in a 2 bed semi in Dagenham.<br />
<br />
Skip to the modern age and we are still bending our minds to solve all of life's little problems. One that I'm usually up against is arriving home to discover I have no food in the fridge. This has led to the invention of dishes ranging from the sublime to the extreme. Pasta with Scraps (or 'alla scrap' if I'm entertaining) has always been a favourite and my carrot carbonara was always a big hit at university. <br />
<br />
I look at some food combinations and can only assume they were borne of similar scarcity because how else could you explain peanut butter and 'jelly' sandwiches or cottage cheese mixed with chocolate powder and a Haribo garnish (thanks to Sofia for this enigma)...<br />
<br />
My latest creative challenge recently took the guise of a few random vegetables and a lonely looking tin of chickpeas at the back of the cupboard. The first thing that sprang to mind was the Indian dish Chana Massala so it was into the blitzer with a classic combination of garlic, onion and fresh ginger. Fry this off until fragrant and add stir fried aubergine, courgette and mushrooms then throw in some turmeric, ground coriander, garam massala and chili seeds. A tin of chickpeas and a tin of tomatoes, bubble it down and it was done !<br />
<br />
I love this dish for its clean flavours, kick of spice and the fact that I can actually imagine eating it in a tandoori - there's something quite satisfying about recreating that taste in your own home... <br />
<br />
Trust me this dish is so more-ish the whole pan will disappear before you can say poppadom.<br />
<br />
<br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Lk2Ik-a-Q8&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Lk2Ik-a-Q8&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-53689021588394825582010-06-28T13:55:00.000-07:002010-06-29T15:25:18.794-07:00Bolognese, Randy Politicians and the Italian Mamma<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The question posed at the lunch table today was this: <br />
<br />
"What's the first thing that springs to mind when you think of Italy ?" <br />
<br />
The response:<br />
<br />
"Ferraris, pizza and a particularly randy septuagenarian Prime Minister." <br />
<br />
Now before anyone takes umbrage to these sweeping generalisations let us not forget that every nation is a victim of certain stereotypes and not all are as endearing as those of Bella Italia. For me though there is one true characteristic of this wonderful stiletto-esque land mass that transcends all others and that characteristic is passion.<br />
<br />
Everything in Italy is accompanied by it. Watch an Italian describe the weather and you'd be forgiven for thinking that his numbers had just come up on the Euro Millions. The plosives, the intensity and the way he grabs the air as though he were grabbing your collar with both hands to pull you closer. I swear if you tied up his hands he'd be mute.<br />
<br />
And what of the young Italian lovers who seem to carry the mantle of Romeo & Juliet as they shun all sense of public modesty and swap their masticated chewing gum in front of you on the train ? The more prudish may balk but they still yearn to experience such thoroughbred abandon.<br />
<br />
Anthropomorphically speaking though its all about the nosh. The image of the Italian Mamma, that ladle wielding matriarch of the homestead, is one that has endured for decades. The image is in fact so powerful that on a recent trip to Italy I saw a restaurant that had parked their Mamma outside on a chair as if to prove their authenticity. A clever ruse it was too as they palmed me off with a microwave lasagna. She was clearly a professional actor.<br />
<br />
This week as an homage I've decided to make that most traditional of dishes: Spaghetti Bolognese. And trust me, I approached the task with no small feeling of trepidation - everyone knows you screw with an Italian's Bolognese at your peril. <br />
<br />
Like chili con carne everyone seems to have a definitive opinion on the cooking method so I have tried to combine all the best parts of the numerous lectures I received and do them justice in one dish. The result is a really rich, gamey Bolognese that I left to simmer for 3 hours before my hunger could take no more... </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I hope you like it and nota bene: if this is my last post I'm more than likely sleeping with the fishes ;-)</div><br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qn_bKFxi2Jk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qn_bKFxi2Jk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-18418626743632804052010-05-29T10:16:00.000-07:002010-05-29T10:56:14.377-07:00H-Bombs, Tequila and the Legacy of Lemuel BenedictI'm dying. This could be my last blog.<br /><br />The symptoms are almost beyond description: mouth feels like week old cat litter, stomach feels like I did a scene in Alien and eyes resemble, to use popular parlance, piss holes in the snow.<br /><br />Thankfully by the wonders of modern technology I've saved on medical insurance and managed to self-diagnose via Wikipedia but the diagnosis doesn't look pretty. I'm staring down the barrel of either:<br /><br />I) Ebola;<br /><br />2) Bubonic Plague; or<br /><br />3) The half bottle of tequila and 5 Jagermeisters I drank last night.<br /><br />I'd pick option 1 but given that the most prominent symptom is that I look like I share hairdressers with Helena Bonham Carter its more likely the result of last night's all out renal assault. Damn you Bacchus.<br /><br />Now from the ancient Chinese philosophy of Yin and Yang right up to the Muller yoghurt TV ads, the theory that all pleasure must be accompanied by pain is fairly well known. Surely though if one thinks they went to bed with Shakira yet actually woke up next to<br />a cold Biryani then such utter misery is undeserved ?<br /><br />The gods are indeed cruel.<br /><br />Now I'm not one for self-pity (yeah right) so its time to enact that age old cure-all used by hangover victims the world over: eat anything it takes to make the pain go away. You know the scenario: walk into the supermarket and emerge an hour later with 27 different items that bear absolutely no relation to each other.<br /><br />Today though I'm taking a more focused approach - the sniper rifle as opposed to the H-Bomb - today I have the elixir to tame even the wildest withdrawal ... A classic Eggs Benedict. A combination of deliciousness that would have dietitians running for the hills I make mine with smoked Canadian bacon as opposed to ham.<br /><br />Next time you wake up looking like an extra from 28 Days Later give it a try, it might just save your life.<br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q9HbIzJ53Bs&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q9HbIzJ53Bs&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-17254250121601224672010-04-12T14:47:00.000-07:002010-04-12T15:15:43.450-07:00Damien Hirst, Gilt-Edged Toilets and the Humble Shepherd's PieThe evolution of perceived luxury is an incredible thing. Once upon a time the height of epicurean extravagance was considered to be the addition of a bidet to you en-suite bathroom or having Egyptian cotton bed sheets.<br /><br />Nowadays though the bidet has to be encrusted with diamonds à la Hirst whilst our bed sheets must be woven from the wool of an extinct Tibetan sheep by a hand maiden named Rapunzel. Keeping up with the Jones’ is so 1990 – now its all about keeping up with the Al Maktoums.<br /><br />Now don’t get me wrong I’m no stranger to decadence – last week I even bought a ready meal from Marks & Spencer (its not just food…) but recently there is a trend that has irked even my conception of what is acceptably pretentious: Gold plated food.<br /><br />I crap you not.<br /><br />A few days ago I tried out a new restaurant with some friends and after a 6 course tasting menu to underwhelm the appetite of even the skinniest Lilliputian I happened across a dessert that promised to save the day. The description mentioned something about golden pastry and cinnamon apples such that the reminiscence of strudels gone by was too much to resist. Unfortunately what turned up looked more like a Fabergé egg on an off day (with a price tag to match).<br /><br />Suspecting a security guard might cosh me over the head for even picking up my fork it took me a couple of minutes to muster up the courage to take a bite. But take a bite I did…and impressed I was not. By its very nature the notion of a dessert fondled by Midas is style over substance and goes against everything I love about food – hearty, simple dishes that make your insides want to take you on a spa day to say thank you.<br /><br />Call me traditional but there is a time and a place for gold. The Crown Jewels yes; your new dentures no. Spanish Doubloons yes; your twice baked cheese soufflé no.<br /><br />If you happen to be the wife of a Russian oligarch and you like your pudding to match your handbag then this is the stuff for you…if not then this week’s recipe is probably more up your street – quick and simple yet unctuously tasty its time to get your teeth into my traditional English Shepherd's Pie...<br /><br />P.S. Best eaten with a cold glass of Dom P ;-)<br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/btikV_DUoCM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/btikV_DUoCM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-22856546280015330952010-03-27T04:24:00.000-07:002010-03-27T06:13:27.047-07:00Circus Acts, Superman and the Egg White Omelette...Performing mice, trapeze artists and a human chandelier. Nope, not another episode of Come Dine with Me, but my weekend at the training camp for the new Cirque de Soleil show in Macau... Technically its not Cirque at all but a company called Dragone - bigger, better, brighter ...and then there's me.<br /><br />Watching these guys reminds me of watching kung fu movies with my brother when were were kids. You watch enough and suddenly you get to thinking you can do it too. Our mum's antique coffee table never did recover.<br /><br />This time a few days with the pro's had me convinced I could match them at their own game and they were more than happy to oblige me with a ride on the wires ... See below for your general amusement.<br /><br />As you might have guessed, lunchtime here is as exciting for me as the performances themselves. These guys are the best in the world at what they do and they need a diet to match.<br /><br />Every lunchtime sees an Olympian's banquet of fresh fish, steak, salads, freshly baked wholemeal breads, pates and more ... Today I tucked into seared beef with soya sauce and ginger, puy lentils and courgettes, butternut squash with pumpkin seeds and green salad with with beetroot, walnuts and feta. Luckily this was after the bungee or I would have ended up re-decorating.<br /><br />As it turns out only lunchtime is catered here so for the rest of the day the x-men need to fend for themselves. Some clearly more competently than others. For the more kitchen averse amongst them my dinner recommendation was something fast, high in protein and low in carbs and fat. enter stage right: egg white omelette with grilled chicken. Its the perfect meal for anyone in training or on a diet and you can customise it anyway you like with mushrooms, tomatoes, ham and a simple side salad.<br /><br />Right, I'm off to work on my triple salco.<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw0LYlUGUryfCqh_7Hx6zUza9PvyTkXu4GXqev7y6XT7noOM005oXdmY1DaqZXLT4_n2w07ysdoMJ7ELuqYfQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7MaiFksz6eM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7MaiFksz6eM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-71387187562858041682010-01-12T16:04:00.000-08:002010-01-12T17:02:09.042-08:00Muffin Tops, Colonic Irrigation and The Culinary Resolution"Muffin Tops", that perennial nemesis of the perfect beach body. The phrase in itself is beautifully descriptive in its depiction of those dimpled, dough-like slabs unfurling over our post-Christmas belts and your average gym operator just loves them. Around 4.5 million people in the UK have a gym membership and when do most of them join ? Yep. January.<br /><br />For some the battle is lost before its even begun - the thought of being seen in the buff on the way to the showers and the threat of athletes foot (a misnomer to most) is too much; the temptation of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">SITC</span>/Entourage <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">boxset</span> too great. For others the will (if not the physical capacity) is there, until one false move on the bench press almost leads to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">asphyxiation</span> and the embarrassment is just too much to go back.<br /><br />And so summer comes in all its flesh bearing glory, but the waist line still looks like it could do with 30 minutes in the baker's oven. Its time to get inventive. But as you lie there wrapped in Nepalese seaweed and clingfilm with a vacuum tube lodged in your most holy of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">holys</span>, you can't help but think what could have been. That's why this week I am shifting the focus to tasty, healthy eating. Training for the summer starts here and it doesn't necessarily mean a gallon of hot water with tree sap and a side order of military boot camp.<br /><br />Ratatouille was the only way my mum could get me to eat healthy food as a kid - its basically vegetables in disguise and teamed up with Salmon en <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Papillote</span> (easy as pulling your hamstring) you're already on your way to skinny muffins.<br /><br />If you like the recipe let me know and if there's something else you're hankering to learn shoot me a message and I'll feature your recipe in one of my next posts.<br /><br />Chiropractor strictly optional.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ilbhi5c4QfY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ilbhi5c4QfY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-87038645307787283802009-12-25T00:59:00.000-08:002009-12-30T09:12:16.201-08:00Christmas, Osama Bin Laden and the Humble Brussels SproutWhen it comes to totally pointless traditions us Brits have surely cornered the market. Morris Dancing, The Queen and the Christmas Day Brussels Sprout are just a smattering of things that we continually humour with seemingly little thought to their merit.<br /><br />But that's the point of tradition isn't it ? It doesn't need any justification because by its very nature a tradition is something we do without question - that's the way its always done. That's why abolishing the monarchy and the Christmas Day Brussels Sprout is unthinkable - they are part of the idiosyncratic fabric of this little island we call Britannia - they are things that make us, well, us.<br /><br />That's not to say tradition doesn't occasionally need a face lift ... The Queen has taken to using public transport these days and I could swear there is a hint of purple rinse going on too, but what of revamping the humble sprout ?<br /><br />Thought of with about as much affection as the smell they produce halfway through the Eastenders Christmas Special the Brussels Sprout only seems to rear its bulbous little head once a year in my house. I don't think its inherently evil as vegetables go but years of systematic torture at the hands of amateur cooks now ranks it alongside Osama Bin Laden as guest least welcome at a dinner party.<br /><br />For that reason this week I'm resurrecting our little friend with an incredible recipe I put together using wine, herbs, garlic and pine nuts. I'm going to eat them while I watch the Queen's speech today and if the worst comes to the worst, well, I can always blame it on the dog ...<br /><br />Merry Christmas everyone !<br /><br />X<br /><br />P.S. Morris Dancing is deeply sinister and is one tradition we can definitely do without ... ;-)<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PpPswm0s3hM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PpPswm0s3hM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-47990584911955944132009-12-06T15:22:00.000-08:002009-12-06T15:46:07.825-08:00Einstein, the Exorcist and the Theory of MarmiteEinstein once said “the definition of madness is to try the same thing over and over again in the belief that next time you will get a different result”. If that’s the case then I must be totally off my rocker.<br /><br />For year’s now I have periodically wandered through my local supermarket believing that one day I will buy a pot of Marmite, take it home and ravage with the same gusto that a libidinous Jack Russell usually takes to its owner’s leg. Not a chance. Last time I ascended on this flight of fancy my head didn’t actually spin 360 degrees but pretty much everything else remained faithful to a scene from The Exorcist.<br /><br />But I want to like Marmite. I want to like it in the same way that I wanted to like olives and Guinness and beer as a child. As with all of these things its about that mysterious concept of “acquired taste”…but why the hell would we train, nay, force ourselves to like something that initially made our gills go green ? Maybe I am alone on this one but that’s certainly what I did with a number of foods growing up as a child. They just looked good even if my taste buds were telling me quite the opposite. And so I persevered until one day I liked them…and now inexplicably I love them ! <br /><br />I suppose a simple explanation is that we don’t acquire the taste at all, rather our palette matures such that one day we are struck by the gustatory epiphany of actually liking our former nemesis.<br /><br />With that in mind this week I have decided to make another ascension of my personal Mount Sinai in the hope that I too will see my ethereal pot of burning Marmite. I’m not going to run before I can walk though so rather than eat the stuff in its unadulterated form I’m making Marmite Cheese on Toast with Red Onion Marmalade…<br /><br />Tell me if you love it…or even if you hate it ;-)<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mK0XUtG8_KY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mK0XUtG8_KY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-58640205885271121092009-09-30T07:08:00.000-07:002009-09-30T07:28:23.724-07:00Thai Food and The King of Culinary Rock..."I think they're all a bunch of c***s..."<br /><br />The asterisks may cover the gender of the genitalia in question but one thing is for sure: Keith Floyd was never one to mince his words.<br /><br />Keith gave this touching reciprocation of affection about his fellow celebrity chefs in his last interview with Keith Allen aired on 14 September 2009. It may not have been his epitaph but given that Keith was to pass away that very same day it resonated as a statement of his approach to, and his effect on, the world of TV cooking.<br /><br />Now I'm not gonna' lie - I might love cooking but Floyd was actually a generation before me. I knew the name of course but by the time I hit university and was really watching a lot of food TV (what else was I meant to do ? Study ?!) it was the likes of Jamie and Gordon who were beginning to catch my attention. One was Naked and the other was reaching his Boiling Point and both seemed more relevant to me than their predecessors.<br /><br />But with various tributes about Floyd now appearing in the press and on the television I've discovered not so much the original celebrity chef but perhaps the original rockstar chef. Floyd simply didn't give a rat's arse what people thought of him and whilst Jamie was still in nappies and Gordon barely even simmering he was taking food TV out of the studio and into the wilderness. The notion of Ainsley getting half cut on Can't Cook, Won't Cook is unthinkable but to Floyd the ubiquitous glass of wine was a trademark. I find myself watching his shows with the same nervous anticipation you might expect from an olympic figure skating final: will they win gold or will they end up splayed across the ice ?<br /><br />To me its the honest, unscripted passion for food that fascinates me about Floyd and its to this that I humbly aspire in my own cooking. I'm not going to over-egg the pudding here - Keith would just tell me to "bloody well get on with it man" so for the uninitiated here are a couple of clips of the great man:<br /><br />Start with this one - a classic scene where Floyd gets told in no uncertain terms by a French Madame that his food is not up to scratch:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfm4en3SC3I">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfm4en3SC3I</a><br /><br />Then the final interview itself:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAbnIV2lsQ0">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAbnIV2lsQ0</a><br /><br />My most recent inspiration was Far Flung Floyd on his travels around Thailand so last week I cooked Thai for a few friends - mussaman curry and the classic moo pad grapow - here's to you Floyd !<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bObWc0GI364&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bObWc0GI364&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OTOfwJiVLWM&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OTOfwJiVLWM&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-71987653034534105012009-08-03T16:52:00.000-07:002009-08-03T20:37:30.069-07:00Designer Thoughtfulness, Italian Food and the Greatest Question of our Time…There are myriad debates that will rumble on into eternity: The Beatles or The Stones ? Christianity or Islam ? Socialism or Capitalism?<br /><br />This week I want to tackle the greatest of them all: Fresh Pasta or a New Handbag ?<br /><br />That Chanel and Bertorelli might not be the most common of bed fellows I will readily concede. Nor could I claim that one is a practical substitute for the other since even the most devout fahionista is unlikely to match their new Jimmy Choos with a sack of durum wheat before they flounce into Cipriani or the like.<br /><br />No, what I want to get to understand, nay prove, is that something as simple as a quickly thrown together home cooked dinner costing a few quid from the local store is worth far more than any offering from Rodeo Drive.<br /><br />I happen to be sitting on Rodeo Drive right now. I’m sipping on an organic soy milk frappe-something-or-other witnessing American consumerism in action. And though the constant stream of stick thin perfect 10’s with day-glo dentistry and perma tan legs seem happy with their recent purchases; you just know they secretly yearn for the carbohydrate laden indulgence of a good bowl of penne.<br /><br />Last week the debate came to a head when I met Lisa and Haley who run London’s elite introduction service Elect Club. Having almost received a mortal head wound from aforesaid Chanel handbag I proposed an experiment on a scale arguably comparable to the Large Hadron Collider – get their male members into the kitchen to prove that fresh pasta could take down Coco’s finest.<br /><br />So this week’s video is a simple guide to a three course Italian meal that even the most kitchen-averse could handle. And the results of the debate ? Well that’s for you to decide. Guys: what reaction did you get ? Girls: would you really prefer this season’s Louboutin’s to your boyfriend’s seasonal cooking ? We might not solve world peace today but at least we can tick this conundrum off our list…<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*** Comments Below - let the debate begin...! ***<br /></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ufn0on3-IzA&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ufn0on3-IzA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-223773531923753832009-07-06T17:40:00.000-07:002009-07-12T12:14:02.390-07:00Culinary Terrorists and the Chorizo Hamburgers...<div>There are certain seismic events which have the ability to unite the greatest of our gene pool. The Olympics, The G8 summit and of course the Taste of London Food Festival.<br /><br />A yearly event, "Taste" (as the cognoscenti call it), brings together the great and the good of UK cuisine so that hordes of foodies can queue up to eat their finest offerings from paper plates on plastic garden furniture.<br /><br />I turned up this year having undergone an entire day of Yom Kippur style fasting to find that something was strangely amiss - sitting on an upturned vegetable crate outside Regent's Park was the one and only Mushroom Man himself, Antonio Carluccio. Further surveillance revealed Michel Roux jnr. pacing moodily around a police car whilst various other tv chefs who I couldn't quite place impatiently twiddled their thumbs. It looked like the culinary version of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks.<br /><br />As it turns out the denizens of global terror were giving up on Parliament and turning their attention to far bigger targets: Gordon Ramsay at Stall 55E. Speculation was rife as to the source of the terrorist threat but AA Gill and Ainsley Harriet were both in the frame. As it turns out the suspect package was no more threatening than a dirty nappy in a Lidl Bag (or was that a misplaced sous vide concoction a la Blumenthal ?) and after 45 minutes we were in... </div><br /><div> </div>All joking aside it was a great chance to check out a whole range of new restaurants and produce - including most notably new egg white in a carton by Two Chicks (more on this another time) and some great chorizo which inspired me to whip up this week's recipe...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0XJLrWDjpWE&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0XJLrWDjpWE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br /><br />500g best quality minced beef<br />200g shredded chorizo<br />Half cup of breadcrumbs<br />1 whole egg<br />Tablespoon of pine nuts<br />Ketchup<br />Dried oregano<br />Chilli seeds<br />Salt and pepper<br />Mild goat's cheese<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br /><br />Firstly prepare to be astounded by your cooking prowess - this one is as easy as finding dirt on a Labour politician.<br /><br />Put the minced beef, shredded chorizo, egg (sans shell please), a good squeeze of ketchup, and a couple of good pinches of oregano and chilli seeds in a bowl.<br /><br />Next put your pinenuts in a dry frying pan over a medium high heat and toast them to a golden colour whilst making witty innuendos to your guests about burning your nuts.<br /><br />Add the pinenuts to the mixture, season with salt and pepper then get your hands dirty to mix it all up. At this stage I always take a teaspoon of the mixture and cook it in the frying pan to check the seasoning. Not enough Ketchup ? Give it another squidge. Flavour of the beef not quite standing out ? Season that bad boy.<br /><br />Chill the mixture for at least 20 minutes before dusting some flour on the work surface to make your patties. Grab a handful just smaller than a tennis ball and roll it in the flour before giving it a bit of a slap and neatening up the edge.<br /><br />Now here's he crucial bit - you can fry, grill or barbeque your burger but don't start basking in your prospective culinary glory just yet or you'll end up overcooking it. I would recommend cooking the burger on a medium high heat for a few minutes each side and topping it with some mild goat's cheese for the last couple of minutes. Medium rare is best in my book.<br /><br />This burger is so damn good that it doesn't need a bap - for the carb inclined though a nice fresh ciabatta is the best option with a simple side salad and a nice cold Budweiser.<br /><br />Next week I'm planning a fantastic summer dish which first saw the light of day when I shot a pilot show in LA last year so check in with me then.<br /><br />Enjoy !<br /><br />x<br /><br />(P.S. You've got to love Shoreditch House - I am typing this as Sophie Ellis Bextor is standing two metres away preparing to do a live set...wonder what her favourite dinner would be ?)<br /></div>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-88505047427994844012009-06-13T06:58:00.000-07:002009-06-13T07:13:37.441-07:00Ladettes, ladies and dressing for success...<span style="font-family: arial;">There are some seminal moments in a man’s life…losing his virginity, the birth of his first child (not necessarily connected) and seeing his country win the rugby World Cup. For me it was meeting Rosemary Shrager (www.rosemaryshrager.com) last week in Herefordshire. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d been asked by Mr W, my flamboyant and self-professedly fabulous producer friend, to take part in the new series of Australian Ladette to Lady. Picture the scene as eight feral Aussie girls closely related to Ted Bundy are snatched from the Outback and taken to a finishing school in the depths of Herefordshire for 6 weeks in an attempt to ‘lady-fy’ them. We had been drafted in as the so-called cream of English aristocracy (don’t ask) to give the appearance of dignified social interaction, whilst secretly encouraging them all to behave as atrociously as possible on camera. Tonight was to be the dinner party.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Now let me tell you about Rosemary. As one of the country’s most respected chefs Rosemary Shrager was whipping up soufflés while Jamie Oliver’s parents were still in primary school and I was to sit next to her at dinner…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Whilst the Ladettes served us a starter closely reminiscent of wallpaper paste I chatted to Rosemary about all things epicurean when suddenly the penny dropped:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">“Wait a second, aren’t you that chap who loves cooking ? Yes ! The producer showed me your Spanish tortilla on the internet – it was rather wonderful !”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Suddenly life just became more complete. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> I chatted to Rosemary ten to the dozen for the next two hours (poor lady, she must have been exhausted by the time I shut up) and perhaps only to put a sock in it she suggested we stay in touch and I come along to see one of her new projects….fingers crossed and watch this space – the opportunity of a lifetime awaits !</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, I digress… this week I’ve got a quickie for you – a tasty, tangy little salad dressing with a Spanish twist to go with that sumptuous Spanish Omelette – and me apparently getting carried away with the word “REALLY” (salad dressing can be exciting too you know).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Next week look out for my chorizo and toasted pine nut burgers – perfect for this unusually pleasant English summer !</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">x<br /><br />(Incidentally while I've been writing this Claudia Schiffer has been eating breakfast with her husband two tables down - Zoolander Egg White Omelette to be posted soon)<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-eE4rL90tPA&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-eE4rL90tPA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object> </span>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-80094958822037528872009-05-16T12:51:00.000-07:002009-05-16T15:33:05.764-07:00The Hardy Brits and the Tortilla Espanola...<span style="font-family:arial;">A couple of weeks ago myself and a bunch of friends were chilling out on Parsons Green, London and typical Brits that we are figured that as it was the first day of the year we hadn't seen rain or cloud it had to be BBQ time...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I cooked up this simple tortilla <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">espanola</span> whilst my friend Alex cremated a few sausages... by the time it was ready the temperature outside was cold enough to hang meat but we stuck it out regardless...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Lulu - you asked for the recipe to my tortilla <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">espanola</span> so this one's for you ... ;@) x </span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wFEXLKS7z3s&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wFEXLKS7z3s&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFEXLKS7z3s"><span style="font-family:arial;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFEXLKS7z3s</span></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Ingredients</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">1kg potatoes</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">6 eggs</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">1 onion</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">2 peppers (one red, one yellow)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">1 handful shredded <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">chorizo</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Olive oil</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Salt and Pepper</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Method</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Easy as falling off a log ... first off get around a kilo of potatoes, peel them and slice to look like 5mm thick crisps - try using a mandolin for this to save time but mind your fingers !</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Deep fry the potato in batches in vegetable oil until they have browned off and could be eaten immediately. Drain and put to the side.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Meanwhile slice your onion finely and slow cook it with a good <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">glug</span> of olive oil with the lid on - when they have cooked down in their own juices and taste sweet you've made "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">confit</span> onions" (throw that phrase in when people ask you the ingredients and await appreciative coo-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ing</span> noises).</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Remove the stalk and seeds from the peppers, slice thinly and fry in a dash of olive oil until browned off slightly.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Add the potatoes, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">confit</span> onions and peppers to a bowl with the eggs (beaten) then two good pinches of salt and some pepper.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mash the sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">b'jesus</span> out of the mix until all ingredients are well mixed, heat up a small frying pan really hot with a dash of olive oil then tip the mixture in.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Give the pan a shake and if the whole thing moves its sealed on all sides - turn down the heat to medium-low and cook for four minutes. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Wipe a large plate with olive oil (so it doesn't stick), place this on top of the tortilla and flip the whole thing onto the plate. Slide it back into the pan on the uncooked side, seal it off as before and then cook on a medium-low heat for another four minutes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Es <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">todo</span> ! Serve with green salad ... simple dressing recipe to follow.</span>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480763738664872530.post-8823457114650101572009-05-16T10:42:00.000-07:002009-05-16T15:36:06.578-07:00The beginning of the journey...Ever since I was knee-high to a <strong>grasshopper</strong> I have been obsessed with food. In the early years it was a pretty basic case of just eating as much of the stuff as possible which inevitably ended up in me being the porkiest kid in kindegarden, but in later life it became more about that magical <strong>culinary alchemy</strong> known as cooking.<br /><br />Over the years I've scraped together knowledge from every available source - books, tv and anyone who was willing to pass on their skills ... its a <strong>journey</strong> in every sense given that one of the greatest inspirations has always been travelling ... whether it be France, Tokyo, Hong Kong or California its always the food that sticks out in my mind.<br /><br />Nowadays I get invited to a lot of dinner parties - its nice to be invited and of course I always say yes, but nowadays the host always seems to exclaim "Great ! So <strong>what are you going to cook</strong> ?"<br /><br />I love it though - food has that unique ability like nothing else to please, <strong>inspire</strong> and unite - so with that in mind I've started this blog... I always thought the idea of a blog was slightly narcissistic and self-indulgent - I mean who cares what Patrick has to say about anything ?<br /><br />Well hopefully if you share my passion for food then some of what I have to say will whet your appetite ... for me its actually a practical exercise... I'm forever messing around with recipes only to forget how I've made something so for the most part this blog is an <strong>aide memoire</strong> (culinaire) .... here's to a journey full of great food and great company at the end of which we arrive <strong>sated</strong> in every imaginable sense...<br /><br /><strong>:@)</strong><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pm66_kB-u8o&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pm66_kB-u8o&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249470132961739938noreply@blogger.com1