Always thinking of the next meal...
Just like Spaghetti Bolognaise/Bolognese there are more variations to Shepherd’s Pie than you can wave a stick at. Everyone’s got their own twist on this classic British dish and each time it tastes a little bit different but we all get the general idea of what it’s (supposed to be) like. Shepherd’s Pie and Cottage Pie are sometimes used interchangeably but to my mind SP is lamb and CP is beef.
I don’t consider myself to be much of a dessert person but if there is one item I simply can’t resist on any menu it is Sticky Toffee Pudding. Devilish sweet and decadent it puts me on a sugar high and a huge grin is plastered on my face for the rest of the day. It makes me happy! In restaurants I’ve had mediocre puddings as well as very good ones, and hands down the best store bought product is Cartmel’s. It was only a matter of time for me to start tinkering in the kitchen.
Banks being bailed out, stock markets crashing (sort of) and world recession looming, what are we to do? Dear readers, stop stealing glances at that fabulous looking fillet steak at the meat counter. Look for other alternatives. No no, rib-eye steak is out! Try again. You’re getting warmer. Closer. Bingo! Mince is the way to go in these financially trying times and what’s more humble and comforting than a baked potato heaped with flavoursome beef? What I love about this recipe from BBC Good Food is that you can make a huge batch of mince and freeze it in portions, which is ideal for days you don’t feel like cooking.
Having grown up in the southern hemisphere, I have gotten used to how hectic the New Year can be. It’s as if everything starts anew when the old year ticks on to the next. After gluttonous Christmas dinners, we pick ourselves up from our creaking, tired couches, haul our heavier bodies to the starting point, take a deep breath in, get on our marks, get set and GO by January the 3rd. Up here things work a bit differently. For a start schools open in September as well as a lot of other hobby clubs, like for example my photography club. Gabriel’s playgroup started too and with the tonnes of photos I take of him and all the other children every week, my time is permanently eaten by post photo processing. On top of that my parents came to stay for a week and since their visit takes top priority, everything else was left to gather dust in the meantime. Fear not, my dear readers, things are slowly being straightened out in the household and I’ll try my best to post regularly again. Thanks for all your support the past 2 years!
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present you another classic British sandwich you will find on just about every shop’s shelf on this small isle. It took me ages to get around to trying one, since the idea of eating cold sweet corn didn’t appeal to me in the least. Starving after hours on the road Neil grabbed a sandwich at a rest stop and I grudgingly shared it with him. What a surprise it was indeed and after that I’ve been preparing my own at home which tastes all the better.
Warning: This drink will cause severe giggling fits even if the joke told wasn’t so funny. In extreme cases there was no joke. Your cheeks will turn a vivid red as if you put on too much blush, or in the case of men stole Ronald McDonald’s stash of red makeup paint. Lastly, expect to receive a few bumps and knocks as you try to fool everyone into thinking you’re sober but while trying to walk in a straight line bang into the door frame. Am I speaking for myself now? I guess I’d better stop before I spill even more beans. *hiccup*
One thing you will notice when you arrive in England is that every corner shop has an array of sandwiches in its cooler section.
The first time I came across a hotpot was when Marcus Wareing prepared it in the first Great British Menu series. Even though he took great care to research his subject and prepared it most lovingly I couldn’t help but turn up my nose at it. It’s as if the original cook thought it’s a great idea to throw every single root vegetable under the sun into the pot with a bit of meat in a slapdash way and bung it in the oven, hoping that in a few hours his meal would somehow be magically transformed into something wonderful. Instead all the vegetables turn into the same colour and mysteriously taste the same, seeing that it’s difficult to discern between a potato, turnip and who knows what else that’s been cooked ad infinitum.
England to me is a berry country, because they are simply everywhere in the summer and autumn. Wherever you walk, whether it is deep in a copse or on a sidewalk, you have to watch your step because of the bramble branches. With all their thorns they do hurt when they unashamedly prick your hands when you rough handle them absent-mindedly. These blackberry plants grow ferociously in the summer and if you have one in your garden you probably know by now that you have to trim the damn thing year in and year out. There is an upside though. Around August and September brambles get into the “giving spirit” before Christmas and produce beautiful, dark, and plump berries ripe for the picking. Let me tell you how to pick just the best.
A meal is never complete without a dessert. Never. When the last crumb and dollop of sauce has been scraped from plate my tongue yells out “What’s next?!?”. Craving something sweet I’ll scour the pantry, looking for some bright-coloured wrapped candy. But alas, it is never there.