Nelly tells me that Nikos (her son, who fishes) caught them. They drape over a high metal bar (like the top of an old-fashioned swing) under the burning sun. Yiannis (Nelly’s other son) elaborates: they must hang to dry for about 30 hours before they are ready to grill. Nikos will do it simply with … More A bit about Makis
Today I was intrigued to see veg and herbs growing outside my local town’s council offices. What a brilliant way to use up space often inhabited (as Pam Warhurst says with comedic disdain) by unproductive “prickly plants”. Incredible Edible is a movement that’s growing (globally), and it’s inclusive: “If you eat, you’re in.” The premise is … More Incredible Edible
Our meal is a disappointment. Beautifully presented pasta and delicious melanzane parmigiana, yes, but the atmosphere is lacking and the prices are steep. Our waitress rushes around the sleek surroundings in a joyless and harried fashion, which is something of a surprise in foodcentric Bologna. It’s almost a relief to be out on the street, … More The Butcher of Bologna
I’m watered as I examine the restaurant menu hanging at street level. I take it to be an invitation of a sort. Ristorante da Enzo in Modena (a first floor establishment) has windows back and front, dressed by a variety of healthy plants. Responsibility for their welfare falls upon a green-fingered older woman who is … More Ristorante da Enzo
I’ve known I was a Cornish Pasty ever since I can remember. It’s a family thing, a bit silly, but consider that my parents’ audience (many years ago) was a delighted group of three small kids. We loved that my biggest brother was a Cockney Sparrer, and that my other brother and I were great … More Cornish pasty
Not long ago, my husband and I were discussing food, thinking through weekend meals. I suggested a chickeny something for the Saturday night. My husband agreed that this was a safe bet for the whole family, before remembering that I rarely eat meat nowadays. He said, “You’ve become a vegetarian really, haven’t you?”. Except for … More Labels, chorizo and falling off the wagon.
I want to do what Elena did in her pink frying pan. Tortilla de Patatas. I try to follow her hand-written recipe to the letter, but her careful Spanish script gives directions so succinct they seem too simple for something that tastes of sunshine and salt and melting-soft potatoes. It is a quintessentially Spanish tapa. I dig … More Tortilla de Patatas
There’s more to Elena than meets the eye. On the face of it, she is a modest, middle-aged woman who runs an unassuming grocery store in an Andalucían white village (she lives and works opposite Ana Luna). Elena is always there, behind the counter, with her apron on and hair tied back. She knows everyone, … More Elena the grocer, baker and tortilla maker.
Here is a spice with a story … A grandfather travelled alone with his suitcase, and in his suitcase, along with his clothes and personal belongings, he carried a big bag of za’atar, a spice mix that no Syrian kitchen is without. He carried it all the way from his home in Damascus to his … More #ChooseLove at Imad’s Syrian Kitchen
There’s nothing quite like a summer fruits PYO farm. Our local one is Stonepitts and we visit on a roasting hot summer’s afternoon. Nestled near the North Downs, we are in a pretty spot. I teach my son how to find the best berries where no-one else has bothered to look. We slow to a steady … More Slowing down at Stonepitts.