Training Update: Week 1

So far, so...meh.  Got outside and went for a run to enjoy the stellar Saturday weather.  Beginning of the run was painful, but like a fine wine it ameliorated with time.

In the exercising spirit, I decided to cycle to St John's Wood to spend an evening with the girls (the boys being out for a stag do and inevitably looking at strippers).  It was a lovely ride.  Saw a poor groom jilted at the alter, sitting outside Chelsea Old Town Hall crying.  I spied about 40 excited children waiting to have a sleep over in the Science Museum.  How I wanted to join them!  The highlight of the ride was an Elvis impersonator in Hyde Park, with a fake holster and Sheriff's badge, being checked by actual cops.

And then my bike decided to have a flat tire.  For the second day in a row.  Specialized, your FlakJacket tires are not very puncture resistant!  So I ended up walking my bike from Hyde Park to SJW. 

The meal was intended to be healthy.  Steak salad, with lemon sorbet and fresh strawberries for dessert.  Delish, fresh and relatively healthy, non?  It all went downhill with the cheese.  Well, the cheese and the crisps.  Actually, the cheese and the crisps and the three bottles of wine.  Whoops!  Ah well, a grand time was had by all.  Though walking the bike down Edgware Rd at midnight is not an experience I wish to repeat.

Sunday was a write-off to brunch with the in laws and studying.  Today has been eaten up entirely by prep for my mock trial tomorrow.  Perhaps I should have dragged my lazy butt outside for a run this evening, but then again this red wine is so nice...

Here's hoping for better resolve as the week progresses.

Confessions of a lapsed half-marathoner...

I am lazy.  L-A-Z-Y. After impressing the heck out of myself with the half-marathon in October, I’ve pretty much been resting on my laurels.  Of course, I’ve consoled myself with myriad excuses:

“It’s cold, dark and rainy”

“I should be studying”

“I’m exhausted”

All of these are to some extent valid points.  The weather has been horrid this year in England.  Facing final law exams in about a week, I really should be studying and between the lack of exercise and hellish year of school, I am so very tired.

None of that is going to change, though, so these excuses are in vain.  Well, except the weather – it does seem to be growing incrementally nicer.  As such, I am resolved to start training again.  Which is probably a good thing as in the next few weeks I’ll be biking 100km and running 10k in 24 hours. 

I’m also quite vain.  I have three great weddings this summer and I would love to look fabulous in my dresses.  I don’t want to lose loads of weight as I’m never going to be an “American Stick Insect,” to quote Bridget Jones.  So I busted out the scale...and ouch.  No worries, I’m not going to publicise the weight.  I’m not that masochistic, but let’s just say there’s a way to go.  Time to try some healthy recipes!

I make the following resolutions:

1)     Run 10k in under 1 hour

2)     Stretch daily (commuting via bike has made my legs fantastic, but I am soooo tight!)

3)     Weight train twice a week

4)     Lose 5kg

5)     Blog regularly as per progress

I give myself until 1 July 2012 for these goals.  At that point, I’ll reassess and set new ones.  There should probably be a form of punishment for any failures along the way.  Perhaps a generous donation to the BNP?  That should lend motivation!

Gardening 101

When we moved out of our flash soho pad (and by this, I mean 'studio up 4 rickety flights of stairs') the prospect of having a garden seduced us, as all good locavore yuppies, with idyllic images of growing our own veg, herbs* and flowers.

Now we have a lovely flat with many more rooms and a gorgeous little patio garden. Last year, we executed our first attempt at gardening. It went...interestingly? There was an epic battle with greenfly, in which we were eventually triumphant. A less satisfying war against slugs and snails to which we lost our peas and peppers. Never again! And then there were the tomatoes. The tomatoes grew to ridiculous heights and then didn't produce until the very very end of the season. A lack of direct sunlight, I'm told. All in all, we experienced enough success to wade in again this year. This is, apparently, how the obsession with gardening begins.

This year we vowed to shed our haphazard ways and magically become experts. So far so good, if I'm honest. Chris' parents bought us a little propagator, so we could raise seedlings. I'm most excited about this because of one crop: tomatillos. Every once in a while you find fresh tomatillos at one of the Isle of Wight stalls at the farmers' markets, but those marvellous mornings are few and far between. My mom had great success with tomatillos in Montana (a far more forbidding atmosphere, though I'll admit much more sun), so I figured we'd give it a try.

Right now we're raising nasturtium and pansies (for colourful delish salads), tomatillos, cos lettuce, kale, red basil and various flowers. They're coming along nicely and in another few weeks they'll be ready to be 'hardened'. As far as I understand, this involves placing them outside in direct sun for progressively longer periods (somewhat like children and preschool). And then - they'll be set free, ready to (hopefully) flourish!

In addition to all these lovely seeds, we've also got tomatoes and peppers on an indoor windowsill waiting to move out in late April or May. The sweet peas are already planted, as are the oregano, chives and lemon thyme. Strawberries are in a hanging basket and we have Logan berries and raspberries ready to bust out. But the other exciting crop this year is potatoes! We have two large bins (one for earlies and one for main crops) which look very ho hum right now, just filled with soil. I am assured, however, that lovely green leaves will burst forth.

Finally, the strongest contender this year is the hop. It's already climbing up the trellis and trying to take over my bike. I certainly won't let that happen, but I am excited for some fresh hop beer later in the season.



* As a side note: 'herbs' is pronounced 'erbs', 'basil' has a nasal 'a' and it's cilantro - not coriander. That is a seed. These are all debates my husband and I have had, and I won.

The Inaugural Broughton Brew!

After years of being avid beer fans, visiting breweries and chatting with other geeks, Chris and I finally bit the bullet and brewed up our first batch. It's not done - we only started on 18 March, so it has a few more weeks to go - but what brilliant way to spend an afternoon!

We commenced with a kit for Cooper's IPA, The Complete Joy of Home Brewing by Charlie Papazian and How to Brew by John J. Palmer. While we had the kit, we ending up following the advice of Papazian. We subbed in in 1 pound of dried malt extract for the sugar provided. (We just happened to have malt extract to hand from visiting Planet Natural - a genius shop for gardeners, home brewers and hot sauce aficionados. Seriously, go there if you're in Bozeman)

Boiling the malt extract with the Cooper's Syrup and water filled our kitchen with the most delicious malty steam. After 45 minutes (the recommended minimum by Papazian), the malty goodness was mixed with more water and left to cool.

As a side note, this is precisely where my Christmas present to Chris of an immersion wort chiller would come in handy. But no, he has yet to cash in on that, so instead we waited...and waited.

This did give us time to proof the yeast, as recommended by Palmer, so the time was not wasted. Once down to the necessary 75 degrees, the yeast was added and now we have a plastic bucket full of very young beer underneath our kitchen table.

Who knows if it will be good? But on the other hand, who cares? It's our first foray into brewing and we had a spectacularly good time. Moreover, this is our beer. We didn't follow the kit instructions, we used ingredients from across the globe and followed in the footsteps of two esteemed forefathers. Whatever the result, this beer is uniquely ours and that is exciting.

Only a few more weeks until we try Indy's IPA...

The Great Running Adventure, Part 1

I am not, nor have I ever been, a runner. A generous description of my figure would be 'curvy.' A more accurate one would be 'chubby.' I suspect this is due to the delish food and beer previously mentioned on the blog. Chris and I sporadically discussed losing weight, but I am adamant about my butter and olive oil, Chris likes big portions and meat-tastic meals and we were both too lazy to get off the couch after long work days.

This all changed on 17 July 2011. But let me go back. In May, a good friend back in Portland signed up for an MS walk, to raise money and awareness about her condition. Inspired by this, and my mom's ongoing battle with cancer, I spontaneously signed up for the Race for Life 5k in Hyde Park. Yes, I wanted to get back into shape, but I also wanted to do something - anything - to help Mom. Living in London, I am 3500 miles away from Bozeman. I see my family at best 4 times year. I am not there to help with the day to day work of cleaning the house, walking Audrey or cooking meals, let alone taking Mom to chemo. My dad and brother are heroes and on hand for that. It was, and frankly still is, a hard decision to stay in London. With the Race for Life, I wanted to give back and help raise money for this amazing charity, at the forefront of Cancer research, because they are the best hope Mom has.

I started with the modest goal of £500, but after announcing the race at work, the generosity of colleagues quickly topped that. So I set a new goal of £1000 (have raised £1100 to date) and I started to train. Lunchtime sessions with Curtis Brown's brilliant personal trainer, doing cross-training and boxing. Some light runs with Chris. And Zumba. Seriously, it's like playtime for adults. Hilarious good fun. The most inspiring part was that an awesome friend, Nicola, joined the run with me. Having a partner in crime is key to success and I blame her entirely for what happened next.

After a pre-race dinner with Eric and Nicola of delish pasta, we showed up to Hyde Park which was now a sea of women wearing pink. Nicola donned her fairy wings and I shimmied into my hula skirt. The atmosphere was electric! Everywhere I turned the ladies had a different story pinned to their backs. 'I am running for...' mothers, daughters, fathers, grandfathers, partners and even pets. The most amazing thing is that what could have been sad and emotional became a marvellous and magic mix of people coming together for a great day and a great cause.

Nicola and I avoided the 'runners' start and made our way to the 'joggers,' with the shared understanding that, if we needed to walk, it would be fine. But that didn't happen. First 1k went by, then 2k and before you knew it we were on the home stretch! We jogged the entire way, completing the 5k in 33 minutes. Quite a good time for a couple of girls who aren't runners, if I do say so myself. 'Running geniuses' as another pair of girls put it during the race.

It was the most amazing feeling, running with 11,000 other women with a common goal and having at least as many friends and family cheering you on. Random people gave hi-fives along the course and there was an awesome block of North Americans toward the end shouting at us that we can do it! The finish line is just around the bend! Best of all were Chris, Eric, Liz and Chris' parents. Caroline is the best cheerleader you could ever hope to have on your side. Just as we were slowing down, we'd see a flash of pink and hear 'Go Molly! Go Molly! Go Nicola! Go Nicola!'

Now, in the midst of this glorious feeling I did the unthinkable. I committed to run a half marathon with Nicola in October. 5k you can fake your way through. I trained, but not seriously. 13 miles? Not so much, this is going to take serious training. And so my new life as a runner began. Now I run 4 times a week, doing interval training and tempo runs. This weekend, I even did 6 miles! My dad eagerly relates running tips everytime I call home, telling me not to go out too fast and to make sure I build my pace. And the best part? Chris is right by my side. My very own personal trainer, with me step for step. It means the world.

I am running for Cancer Research again, hoping to raise more money to fight this terrifying disease. But this time I'm also running for myself. I like it, it clears the mind like nothing else and gives an awesome sense of accomplishment. Furthermore, by getting in shape, hopefully I can mitigate any risks of cancer that I might have. And finally? Yeah, I'd like to look damn good in that little black dress.

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes

At the encouragement of Chris and friends, this food blog has been re-invented as a more general 'American in London' page, with blog posts from various American expats as well as personal recommendations. There are far better food blogs out there and this hits a bit closer to home, so here's hoping it finds success!

Right - now off to enjoy the weather. London is glorious right now. A blog post on Chris' smoking adventures of yesterday will shortly follow.

Chicken on sale? Excellent

Ocado had a hell of a deal this week. 2 whole chickens for £7! (And yes - I have caved to the luxury of delivered groceries. It's wonderful. No more long walks home with aching arms, laden with milk, potatoes, beer and wine. Having the staples delivered allows me to shop selectively and locally for all surrounding ingredients). Anywho, moving on from the wonders of Ocado.

The first bird was roasted on Sunday and served with a roasted garlic and orange sauce, over mexican rice and garnished with cilantro. Once demolished, the left-over meat went towards delish tacos a la Chris on Tuesday, while the bones became gorgeous stock.



For the second chicken, I appealed to Chris' superior skills and had him joint the chicken. After doing a quick dry rub, I threw it on the grill. After a few bastings with chipotle BBQ sauce (amazingly good, seeing as we found it in England), we were ready to eat. With some chips from the local shop and sauteed kale, the dinner was a smash hit.

And so tonight, our little chicken friends came to a final end. Half the chicken stock stored in the freezer, I started work on the Smoked Chicken Chowder. I found the recipe ages ago on Epicurious and have tweaked it: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Smoked-Chicken-Chowder-10854



In place of corn and potato, I subbed in sweet potato. I like the flavor better because I think it works with the chipotle and Chris isn't a huge fan of corn. I also upped the garlic and chili and cut the cream with milk. Finally, left over chicken instead of chicken breast. Just added a bit later. Finally, Chris whipped up a gorgeous guacamole.

Better to cook at home than go out to eat

Last night I went on a date. Dinner and a movie was on the cards - didn't quite turn out that way. First, there was a line (queue, I'm trying to be bilingual) about 20 people deep for the movies, so I vetoed. After wandering around a bit, we found salvation in Enron. Last minute tix at £25.00 - a bargain. Incredible show. Some uneven parts, an exploitation of 9/11 toward the end, but generally brilliant, particularly in the writing and Sam West's performance.

Going to the theatre, however, made us push back the dinner reservation at Oxo Brasserie until 10:30pm, which the hosts there assured us wouldn't be a problem. Oh, but it was. When seated, we were 2 of 6 people there, with everyone else finishing their meal as we started. Before we even ordered, exhausted and impatient waiters cleared the settings from the tables next to us. After a decent, but unspectacular course of Jerusalem Artichoke and Wild Garlic soup and Veal Ragout with Polenta, waiters outside placed the chairs on tables. Our main course - which actually featured a nearly perfectly cooked pork loin - was eaten to the tune of the musicians packing up, as the last of the other guests stumbled out. And during dessert, one of many waiters we had throughout the evening (as we were outnumbered about 30 to 2) hollowly reassured us that there was no rush.

It was glorified wedding food. Nothing definitively bad, but no standouts either, and probably the most uncomfortable restaurant situation I've ever been in - and that includes being followed to the bathroom by an attentive waiter at Charlie Trotter's. Who knew that an overindulgent September 11th scene wouldn't be the most awkward part of the evening?

Now, contrast that with tonight. It was an exhausting day, filled with busy work and petty questions. The sun shone brilliantly through the windows, yet was unattainable - even in lunch, while I diligently searched for training contracts. A lovely walk home, accompanied by the brilliant guys from RadioLab, followed by a quick kitchen clean, and I'm ready to go. Chicken thighs marinating in garlic mashed with salt, stirred in with olive oil, lemon and honey and sprinkled with crushed red pepper. Fresh carrots delivered from Abel & Cole, peeled and chopped - ready to blanch. Cabbage sliced, eagerly awaiting braising in chicken stock and butter. Chinese black rice, seasoned with just a bit of the chicken juices towards the end.

All this, and I even read 40 pages of a case. Ahh, the difference cooking at home makes. I'll take it nearly every time.

Drawn into thew world of food photography

Woke up early this morning, and decided to peruse the NYT (before it throws up the pay wall!). In it was a hilarious little piece about the growing practice of photographing your food. For some, this has become an intricate ritual in their weight loss pursuit. For others, it's an attempt to document an increasingly fast-paced life, as French philosopher Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin wrote, “Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.” Intrigued by this latter category, I think I'll give it a go. Who knows? It may encourage me to stop procrastinating and actually write in this blog o' mine. No worries, I won't be posting a glossy, staged pic of every biscuit, but for a start - here's my morning ritual: Coffee.



P.S. For those who are interested in the article - here's the link: People Who Photograph Food and Display the Pictures Online

Down home decadence

One of the resolutions for the new year is to buy, cook and discard more wisely. This all involves a SERIOUS amount of planning that is sometimes enjoyable, occasionally onerous. Sunday, I beer roasted a chicken and fried up some kale, whilst Chris rocked the roasted potatoes and maple-mustard glazed parsnips. As usual, I tore off all the chicken from the carcass (a very fun and messy endeavor), and simmered the bones with veg and herbs for stock all night long.

Chris has taken a New Orleans tradition of Red Beans and Rice on Monday and adapted it to London because I'm out late with class. So we were left with a small bowl full of chicken and a vat of stock. Michael Ruhlman posted a recipe for chicken and dumplings on his blog back in January that caught my eye, as a cheap and easy way to reuse roast chicken. So that went up on the weekly meal plan (followed by roast pork tenderloin tomorrow, dinner with Lib Dem Vince Cable on Thursday and tacos on Friday - see? It does involve hella planning).

Oh. My. God. Delicious. Decadent. Scrumptious. And every other word that describes amazing food.

http://blog.ruhlman.com/2010/01/chicken-and-dumplings.html

The tarragon added a refined element and enriched the dish even more by invoking the flavor of hollandaise, and the lemon gave the dish a necessary acidic kick at the end. Being a house full of hot sauce, we added Dave's Roasted Garlic hot sauce at the very end to spice it up a bit. Perfection :)

Dinner and an essay

Tonight I must write an essay. I'm getting there - slowly but surely - about 1/4 done at this point. But this isn't about the pompous sentences recently recorded on paper, but rather the food that fed them.

This evening I needed a quick meal that also satisfied my need for culinary therapy after a long day. Ran over to Tescos (I know! No time for the market this afternoon, or my beloved Waitrose), grabbed cherry tomatoes and basil and ducked home. While the water slowly heated for linguine, I sautéed half a thinly sliced onion, the remainder of a red pepper and 4 cloves of garlice in a dash of olive oil. Chris is out drinking the night away, so I didn't need to spice it up at all - a welcome change, I must admit. Once soft, I threw in the the cherry tomatoes and left to simmer. As the tomatoes broke down I splashed in some of the reisling I happended to have in a wine glass and a squirt of tomato paste, leaving to simmer and melt together. When the linguine was nearly finished, I tore up about 10 basil leaves into the sauce and tossed the pasta in to finish it off. Served with a quick salad of rocket and tomato and the remainder of the wine, it took all of 30 minutes to prepare. Leaving me plenty of time to procrastinate writing my paper...

The Great Restaurant Adventure

London is not known for its food. It's just not. There are days when I ponder why I ever moved away from the vast sumptuous array of Chicago restaurants. Or even Bozeman, home to a surprisingly marvellous mix of foodie joints. But London? To quote my friend, Pete, 'Meh.'

Chris and I cook just about every night, only dining out upon necessity (suffering starvation while out and about, or just too drunk after the pub). This has led to a string of mediocre meals at pubs and curry houses, only affirming my disappointment in the London culinary scene. Don't get me wrong, there is a vibrant culinary revival happening, but in places beyond my modest budget and Montana attire.

On a rare night out in November, Big Jo Thaps and I hatched a scheme. Whilst slurrping up delicious jellied mushrooms, fragrant eggplant and spicy prawns at Snazz! Sichuan, we decided to try one new restaurant a month. (Snazz being a notable exception. Thank you, Tony Grafton, for introducing Anna and me to this place! So good, so close to the British Library) Our scheme wouldn't be a happenstance affair, we would research, debating potential candidates, vetting the field much more stringently than, say, the McCain campaign with Sarah Palin.

DECEMBER ~ Aqua Kyoto

The cocktails were superb. The atmosphere and spaciousness, remarkable for central London. The food was good, but a little forgettable. I do fondly recall the braised octopus. That was delicious - but nothing more. More than anything else, this restaurant was bizarre. A cavernous space, filled with stylishly dressed 30 somethings. The excellent bar staff, but ill-informed waiters, who were unable to make recommendations. All this (along with the 4 hookers who entered as we departed) left us at a loss.

I guess the verdict is: Business Lunch (only go if it's on expenses)

JANUARY ~ Viet

Props to Liz for this joint. In a month of left-overs and perilously low bank balances, this place was the perfect choice. The massive bowl of Pho placed in front of me made my night. It was delicious, full of spice and ginger and garlic and all things nice. When out of the squid, the waiter rustled up a gorgeous onion pancake for us. The atmosphere was sparse and people line up outside jealously eyeing up your table, when you take too long over those last morsels, but the meal was honest and honestly delicious.

Verdict: Great cheap weeknight meal.

FEBRUARY ~ Il Bordello
This place is so good, I considered moving to Wapping just to have it as my local. Warm, lively environment, with great old Italian waiters and an overly keen wine guy, who smiles and winks and casually glances down your top. When you walk through the door, you're embraced by a warm gust of garlic and parsley and cheese. I wanted to eat the air. As this month is a bit better monetarily, we splurged on two nice bottles of wine. Massive plates of fried cheese, calamari and various pastas arrived and were passed between the three of us (Liz again recommended and joined in). I love Italian food and I like to think I'm fairly good at cooking it, but this had a heart and soul to which I can only begin to aspire. It's not that it was elegant, but that it was comfort food with the perfect blend of flavors. My stomach literally ached. There was a pleasant rumble of conversation around us, as patrons grew more and more expressive with each glass of wine. No music necessary.

Cheers, Liz, for an amazing night. I will be going back. Again and again and again...

Verdict: Go there. Now. Order everything on the menu.

So you had a bad day...

I felt like bursting into tears today. While walking back along the A3205, without the package I trudged out there to get, I very nearly did. Chris is out, enjoying the wonders of political life at the Lib Dems conference (I'm just envious, it looks and sounds amazing!), so I found a way to cheer myself up. I steeped in a bubble bath with a good book and then got out to cook. By this time, I was starved and so had little patience for anything complex. Furthermore, being - let's say - extraordinarily easy going with money, I am cutting it close this month. So no foie gras for me.

After a peek in the fridge and cupboards, I decided to whip up some spicy spaghetti with kale and garlic. I indulged and added some red wine to the dish (also because drinking the entire bottle myself tends to lead to a less than happy morning).

Sauté 3 cloves of garlic in about 3 T of olive oil. Add 1 T crushed red pepper and stir. Wash and tear 2 C kale (curly, dinosaur - doesn't really matter), then add to the garlic, olive oil and pepper. Dump in a good dollop of red wine (I measured from my glass, so not too sure of the amount) and cover. Meanwhile.... cook enough spaghetti for one (a small handful should suffice) and just before done, add it to the kale mixture. This turns to spaghetti a pleasingly wine-y shade of red. Serve with some freshly grated parm, garlic bread and, of course, red wine.

The results? Delish. Sauntering around the deliciously empty flat in a sarong, listening to Movits!, I am now wonderfully calm. Don't get me wrong, DHL will still receive a strongly worded email. But not until tomorrow morning.

Tiki-tastic? Not quite.

Tony Bourdain in Hawaii at a tiki Bar? What can be better than that? My culinary hero, in my favorite place, drowning in delicious killer cocktails. Sounds like a pretty damn good time to me. This was my fantasy for an hour the other night as I watched No Reservations: Hawaii while cooking dinner. In the show, Tony indulges in a achingly expensive (but gorgeous) Hawaiian shirt, more than a few drinks at a tiki bar and even a luau. Little did I know that I'd find my way to a tiki bar later in the week...

Welcome to Trailer Happiness (http://www.trailerhappiness.com/) a London attempt at capturing the kitschy goodness of tikis and trailers. Despite the name, it doesn't feel like a trailer - it feels like your great uncle's basement which has a wet bar and hasn't been redecorated since 1973. And that's not a bad thing. I loved it. Absolutely amazing job. And the drinks? Damn, that bartender knows what he's doing. My favorite of the evening was the Up River Saint Lawrence, a devilish medley of Bourbon, bitters, maple syrup, apple juice and lime. Serve up with a rim dusted in cinnamon. When this is handed to you by a tall, blond, handsome bartender in a kickass Hawaiian shirt, it's hard to go wrong.

But somehow they manage, and therein lies the mystery. My parents have a saying that Neil Diamond is almost good. Trailer Happiness is almost cool. It suffers, however, from the surprisingly weak gastro food , the throbbing hipster music and especially the clientele. First the food. It is - unexceptional, a slightly jazzier version of the pub food served all over London. Skewers of meat and duck pancakes. I will admit that their fries were absolutely delicious, tasted like McDonalds of old. But surely this is the place to serve sliders? Cocktail sausages? Olives? Crudité? If you're going old school, do it properly, please.

Now, the music. This was perhaps the most disheartening failing of the bar. Play ANYTHING but hipster lounge music. Seriously, anything. Johnny Cash, The Beach Boys, Motown, Stax - all of these would have made the place leap alive with ambience. Instead, I felt as if I was in a Di Saronno advertisement.

And with that soulless image in mind, the clientele. Never, with the exception of walking through Portobello Market on a Saturday afternoon, have I wanted to punch so many people in all my life. After 8pm, Trailer suddenly filled with people desperate to be cool. I make no pretension to be cool. I'm not cool. I'm sitting here in a hoody and soccer shorts, writing a blog. It doesn't get less cool than that. But these people were frantic for an iota of cool, for the essence of cool, leading to an sickeningly insincere atmosphere.

So the verdict is that Trailer of Happiness wins points for originality and drinks, but loses all gains by catering the the hipster crowds of Notting Hill. What a pity.

Take a trip back to the 1970s

One new recipe a week. That's the new rule in our home. This leads to hours spent pouring over recipes in our various beautiful books, which is fine by me. What better way to spend a Sunday evening?

This Saturday Chris and I wandered along to Notting Hill, specifically Portobello Road Market. After wandering through the market, wishing we had more room in our two room Soho pad, we happened upon heaven. Books for Cooks. This gorgeous little shop on Blenheim Crescent sells books that deal with cooking. That's it, and it's glorious. After salivating over the Alinea cookbook, checking out a legit copy of Julia Child's masterpiece and flipping through Rick Bayless' book on salsas, we decided to pick up a quirky little book on Hawaiian cooking. It took me back to the lovely days spent on Maui, sipping coffee and eating fresh Mango. I was looking forward to recreating some of my favorite Hawaiian fare.

Roana and Gene Schindler, with their connection to the famed Hawaii Kai restaurant, published Hawaiian Cooking in 1970. This Monday, 39 years later, we tried our first recipe from the book: 'Basic Curry for Meat and Chicken - and shrimp and lobster too' The result was a split ballot. Liz and I thought it was delicious, but Chris wasn't swayed by its sweet sticky charm. The curry was a perfect example of Americanized ethnic food - taking what tastes similar to a Malay curry, then making it saltier, sweeter and milder - in short, more accessible to middle America. Despite kicking up the heat with some scotch bonnets and serving it over mounds of shimmering black Forbidden Rice, this recipe still felt like it would be best enjoyed on an episode of the Brady Bunch.

Don't get me wrong, it was delicious and I'm taking the left overs for lunch today, it just in no way echoed the amazing dishes I've experienced in Hawaii. And so I'm in search of a genuine Hawaiian cookbook, one that stresses the fresh ingredients, fruit and use of seafood. Anyone have recommendations?

Food vs Body Image: The battle begins...

If you haven't already, read Frank Bruni's piece about Bulimia in the New York Times. Absolutely astonishing, yet also devastatingly sad. That one of the best food critics had/has such issues with his weight is tragic. But then, these issues swirl all around me in daily life.

A good friend has recently gone off all carbs and booze, in the hopes of being trim for a wedding in two weeks. Other friends constantly complain about their weight, professing regularly to start a gym routine and to give up sweets. I cannot think of a single friend who would be comfortable in public in a swimsuit, even with the most fabulous figure. (Obviously, for this, I mean a public place like a pool - not just wandering the streets).

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I weigh more than I should and that I've fallen prey to more beer and sweets this year than is healthy. That said, I'm fairly content with who I am. Hell, I'm even fine sporting a swimsuit around just about anyone. Yes, I go to the gym, but for the health benefits of having more energy and clearing my mind. I could probably lose weight quickly if I rejected the pasta I love so dearly, but why? The insecurity around body image leads to a unnecessarily antagonistic relationship with food, worst of all, it prevents you from truly enjoying your food. In my mind, dieting foods are similar to fast food, just another short cut around what you SHOULD eat, freshly prepared foods made from whole ingredients. Both 'light' meals and fast food are also full of chemicals that are, quite frankly, unnecessary for a delicious meal.

There is a solution to this tragic epidemic. A magic bullet. One thing that can make it all better and even facilitate improving your figure. And the answer can be yours for just $9.95...

No, seriously, it's simply having more self confidence. Accepting who you are, and that while it would be nice to improve, it's not a necessity for a happy life. Think how much time and energy you'll save by not worrying about it. Unfortunately, as simple and as free as this solution is, I think it has be instilled from a young age (as we see in the case of Frank Bruni), otherwise it becomes considerably more difficult to develop. And so, I'd like to conclude my ramblings with a massive THANK YOU to my parents. Thank you for never creating anxiety about body image, thank you for always having healthy and delicious food around, thank you for teaching Sam and me the value of cooking and quality ingredients, thank you for the summers spent living in swimsuits and most of all, thanks for giving both of us confidence and contentment. These gifts are truly priceless.

THE BEST CHICKEN EVER

Last night was delicious enchilada night. I tried a new recipe from Rick Bayless' Mexican Kitchen and it worked a charm. Enchiladas with leftover carnitas, rice with onions, garlic and cilantro and all topped off with tomatillo salsa. (No, we didn't cheat - at least not on the tomatillos. They're grown on the Isle of Wight). Tonight featured the most basic (and potentially most bland) ingredient: chicken. Specifically, a massive monster of a chicken breast purchased from The Natural Kitchen in Marylebone. (Skin on, bone in - thanks, much. I'm not some sort of healthy eating masochist who removes all the good bits!)

I decided to use one of my fave recipes on the chicken, garnerd from Cooks Illustrated ages ago. As a quick sidenote, I love Cooks. They try EVERYTHING when developing a recipe and detail it so you don't fall into the same sandtraps. Fantastic food journalism and delicious recipes. Anywho, here's the basic idea:

• Brine chicken breasts for 1/2 hour in salted cold water (I accidentally left mine in for an hour - it was fine)
• Heat the oven to medium hot - can never recall precisely, but about 200c.(Nearly forgot the most important part - pour yourself a bigass glass of wine)
• Heat a tablespoon or two of canola oil in a heavy, oven proof pan until it's damned near smoking.
• Rinse chicken breasts and pat dry with paper towels.
• Place breasts (the chicken's - not yours) skin side down in the hot pan. Cook until the skin is brown and crispy, about 2-3 minutes (you will be burnt by popping oil at the point, it's best that you just take a swig of wine and accept it).
• Flip the breasts over and cook for another 2-3 minutes and then (here's the ingenious part) slide the pan into the hot oven.
• Chill for 18-20 minutes (or, if you're like me, madly rush to prep a cornucopia of sides)
• Take the chicken out of the oven. Do not touch the pan with bare hands. Seriously. Ouch. Remove the chicken to a plate and keep covered.
• Reduce the juices in the pan, sauté some onions and garlic in. Reduce some wine. Add some herbs (pronouced 'ERBS! ongoing battle with my Brit husband) and presto-chango, you have have a delicious sauce for chicken.
• Transfer the chicken back to the pan. Cover in the sauce. Serve proudly.

Now, tonight the chicken was accompanied by delicious local asparagus, fingerling potatoes with butter and parsely and with a first course of crabcakes. I know what you're thinking, crabcakes? Really?

Hey. I had some extra crabmeat to use up. What's a girl to do?

Play by Play - Taste of London 2009

5:30pm - Rendezvous at The Albany with Ed, another food geek to go explore the wonders of the Taste.

5:40pm - Enter the Taste at Regent's Park, surrounded by delicious smells and BA flight attendants offering brochures.

6:00pm - 6:30pm - Get our barings. Map it out.

6:30pm - Reach our first destination, the LoveBeer stand, run by LoveBeer@Borough, Utobeer and The White Horse. We are immediately greeted with samples of delicious beer and the happy news that a Beer and Cheese Tasting is about to begin. This is led by the marvelous Melissa Cole, beer queen and someone who I would gladly follow into any brewery, any pub and, it turns out, any open part of Regent's Park populated with tents.

BEER & CHEESE MENU

• Sword Swallower (Schmaltz Brewery) + Wensleydale Creameries Wensleydale
• Victory Ale (Batemans Brewery) + Capricorn Somerset Goats Cheese
• White Sheild (Worthington) + Denhay West Country Farmhouse Cheddar
• XXXB (Batemans Brewery) + Davidstow Extra Mature Cheddar*
• Ola Dubh 12 (Harviestoun) + Colston Bassett Blue Stilton**

* The best pairing, where the combination improved both flavors.

** The most surprising pairing - as one who doesn't usually like stilton, this was absolutlely delicious.

The lessons learned from the tasting? Beer should cut, complement or contrast the cheese with which it's paired. Also, unlike wine which creates a film in your mouth when tasted with cheese, beer wipes the palatte clean, preparing your for a clean taste.

7:00 - We ventured to our first taste - The Salt Yard and Tamarind.

At the Salt Yard, we sampled:

• Spanish style meatballs with a plum tomato and basil sauce with Pecorino Nero - while Chris thought the meatballs were nothing special, the combination with the sauce was delcious - definitely a restaurant worth trying!
  
• Slow-cooked Ibérico pig cheeks with a pea, broad bean and Jamón Ibérico boullion - a hit! A palpable hit! The pig cheeks just melted into the deap and delicious broth.

At Tamarind:

• Pepper chicken and coconut rice - delicious, but generally agreed that Le Cinnamon in Brook Green does better curry.

7:15pm - Headed up to the Taste Theatre to watch a maestro, Michel Roux Sr., the architect (along with his brother, Albert) behind the original Le Gavroche and The Waterside Inn. Michel prepared a Tarte Anglaise for us, as well as demonstrating the ease with which fresh pastry can be made. He mixed, kneeded, sang and shocked the British onlookers by using a mountain of butter for his 1:1 flour to fat ratio for pastry. His answer? It's good his brother Albert isn't here, or the ratio would have been 2:1! He also took a few swipes at Gordon Ramsay, asking why would one swear at staff in the kitchen? Everyone should be happy and polite. It was devastating in the way that only the French can pull off.

7:45pm - Encouraged by Michel to go patronize his nephew (also named Michel Roux and now head chef at Le Gavroche), we headed that way towards both Le Gavroche and Asia de Cuba.

At Le Gavroche:

• Bisque de homard, parfumée à l'armagnac - delicious lobster bisque, hilariously served in a small plastic picnic wine glass. When finished, you had the added surprise of lobster chunks saturated with brandy.
• Daube de boeuf à l'ancienne et gratin dauphinois - one of the true stars of the evening, just an amazingly tender braised beef with the creamy goodness of gratin.

At Asia de Cuba:

• Mexican donuts - delcious deep-fried brioche, dusted with cinnamon and sugar, filled with butterscotch sauce and served with a mojito sorbet. A lovely dessert.

8:00pm - We headed toward The Grill at the Dorchester, Tom's Kitchen and Ed splintered off in search of Joël Robuchon's foie gras burger.

At The Grill at the Dorchester:

• Seared scallop with sardine pie and cauliflower purée - Eric had this one and let me sample the scallop. Delish - so sweet and light. It just shows what elegance quality produce and simple preparation can bring.

At Tom's Kitchen:

• Seven hour braised Daylesford lamb shoulder with balsamic onions and mash - another one of the best dishes of the night. The lamb fell apart at the mere sight of a fork and the balsamic onions were a sweet gooey mass of goodness, complemented perfectly by the unearthly smooth and creamy potatoes.

At L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon:

• Le burger au foie gras et aux poivrons verjutés - an amusing take on the burger, with a piece of perfectly cooked minced beef, with a lightly carmelised pepper slice separating the beef and a delicious morsel of foie gras.

8:20pm - We dashed back to LoveBeer's stand for a beer and canapé tasting, stopping along the way at L'Anima:

• Fettucine with wild mushrooms and summer truffle - now I see what all the fuss is about. Truffles are delicious, and L'Anima's chef's certainly didn't skimp. It's a warm earthy flavor unlike any I've had.

8:30pm - Back home at LoveBeer, we delved into beer and canapé parings (and came out quite a bit drunker at the other end)

• Sierra Nevada Pale Ale + Duck Liver Parfait
• Harviestoun Bitter and Twisted + Beer Poached Trout
• He'brew Origin + Dark Chocolate Mousse *
• Harviestoun Ola Dubh 12 + Colston Bassett Stilton

* A delicious beer brewed with pomegranates which perfectly matched the mousse, cutting through the sweet creaminess with a slightly bitter refreshing taste.

9:00pm - it was now go time, the final round, time for us to use up our remaining 25 coupons at Bentley's, Le Pont du Tour and Launceston Place.

At Le Pont du Tour:

• Plateau Fruits de Mer on ice - Ed came back with this marvelous mix of oysters, lobster, prawns, crevette... all sorts of fresh deliciousness.

At Launceston Place:

• Potted devilled brown shrimp and crab in a shell on pebbles - by the time we arrived, these were two for one. Delicious and salty with a fabulous presentation.
• Roast Aberdeen Angus beef fillet wtih taragon mousse - All have hailed this as the best dish of the night. I dream of preparing beef this tender and the taragon mousse - with just a hint of aniseed - was incredible.
• Rhubarb and custard ice cream crumble - served in an ice cream cone, this was also a huge success, a delightfully fresh take on a traditional English dish. The chef, Tristan Welch, lists this as among his favorite dishes.

At Bentleys -

• Tipsy Trifle - we used our last four coupons on this light and refreshing (and boozy trifle).

9:30pm - We bid farewell to the Taste, sated with gourmet food and saturated with good beer. Launceston Place is hailed as the new find, the place we will save up our pennies and try one special evening. Back settled comfortably at The Albany, we learn that we have good reason to praise this restaurant. Tristan Welch came up through L'Aubergine and Le Gavroche, bouncing to Paris for a stint at L'Aperge and returning to London to work at Petrus.

Goodbye, Taste of London, we'll definitely see you next year...

Cucumber Soup

For the past three days, I've brought my lunch to work - a scrumptious cucmber soup which I adapted from Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. It's ridiculously easy and delicious.

Peel and seed 2 cukes
Blend with 1 C Greek yogurt and 1/2 C water
Chill

When you're ready to eat, simply add 1 clove minced garlic (Fresh garlic is amazing in this), a few pinches of dill and a squirt of lime.

Glorious :)

Terms of Endearment

Darlin'. Love. Sweetie. All part of the warm and inviting market vocabulary. In a city which can simultaneously feel overwhelming and alienating, it helps to create a sense of community and establish a neighborhood. This is difficult in Soho because the population is so transient. Thousands of workers flee the end of the day, while even more people flood in looking for a night out. The streets can either feel like the set of a zombie film (9am on a Saturday morning) or like an outdoor rave (Shaftesbury Ave, 11pm on a Saturday night). Either way, it's difficult to get a true sense of of the 'hood.

It's now Day 4 in my buy local program and things are looking up on this front. Today I conducted my shopping at the deli entirely in Italian and was bestowed the wonderful compliment of the owner assuming I was from Milan. To him I am 'Cara.' After three consecutive days at the market, the vendors are beginning to know me, recommending veg and steering me away from less savory purchases. I don't think we'll ever get on a first name basis, but then - I wouldn't trade being 'Darling' for anything.