an alternative celebration: Zanzibar Day!

my dear papa!

My father, Henry, is a born story teller. He doesn't tell jokes, but he does tell tales of the places he's been, what he has seen and the people he has met. Since it is Fathers' Day today, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to share one of my favourite tales. I often talk about my father. Obviously he has been a big influence on me, not least in some of my tastes in food and drink. So this, as they say, is Henry's story; his celebration. It is not strictly about food, but drink was most definitely involved.  

an open mind to the awful weather gave me broad bean hummus!

broad bean hummus

Deciding what to cook for Sunday lunch, I decided I wanted something fresh and summer-tasting, on the basis that is actually summer and the sun had come out. I bought a shoulder of lamb to stuff with something suitably summery; I hadn't quite decided but was plumping for feta, fresh oregano and mi cuit tomatoes and planning on serving the whole dish with my herby tomato and mint sauce. I was rather looking forward to what I thought might be a winning combination.

what do you do when everything tastes of varnish? find a fabulous restaurant. Babur!

prawn salad with green papaya

What do you do when everything tastes of varnish? Well, your first thought might be why the hell is everything tasting of varnish? It is a fair question and I am happy to tell you that it is not another disastrous cooking experience. It is merely that we have had the kitchen floor re-sanded and varnished. But despite all the windows and doors being left to air the house everything smells of varnish.

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noises off: out of the kitchen and off to the theatre . . .

Gypsy: Everything's coming up roses!

Are you interested in the theatre? Fancy a trip to London's West End but not sure what to see? Can I recommend the theatre blog, Theatre Focus? In the interests of full disclosure I have to confess that this is my cousin Abby's website and I am filled with envy (and not a little pride) at her confident approach and accomplished writing in all things theatrical.

i love my lunch! my favourite roast chicken sandwich

leftover roast chicken and salad sandwich

These days I think that my middle name might be "Thrifty" unlike the more pedestrian "Emma" that my parents saw fit to bestow on me. But I am all about trying to save money, especially when it comes to food budgeting.

As I have mentioned before, a really good way to do this is to roast a chicken for Sunday lunch and think of delicious ways to use up the leftovers. One of my favourite things to do is to make a roast chicken salad sandwich to take to work as a packed lunch. The tangy, smoky mayo dressing goes beautifully with the chicken and adding a little (or in my case a lot) of salad, makes this quite a substantial meal.

looking on the bright side of life: barbecue sauce - sweet, sour and very sticky!

chicken wings in barbecue marinade

One of the most delicious side effects of the awful economic climate is the rise of street food and pop-up restaurants in London. There is a definitely an increase in young and creative chefs prepared to test the waters with food trucks, vans and market stalls (rather than the precariousness of opening a restaurant) serving fabulous street food from around the world. The street food scene here in London is vibrant and exciting and I say hurrah for that!

Two of my favourites are Pitt Cue Co, which has now actually opened a restaurant in Soho, and Anna Mae's Smokehouse, which can be found across London, including Kings Cross. They are bringing the joys of good American-style barbecue to a cruelly underserved British public.

a jubilicious victoria sponge and the day I almost met the queen

jubilicious Victoria Sponge

I don't want to sound all bah-humbug about the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. Clearly sixty years in a job that frankly would have most people running screaming for a way out, should be congratulated. Our young queen promised loyalty, service and to do her duty and she quite clearly has achieved all of that and more. It's not her fault that I became an anti monarchist at eight years old. It is all the fault of Jane Brewer.

what's in season: june - bring out the bunting!

up close and personal
with strawberries

June is probably may favourite month, for no better reason than it is my birthday month, the days are getting longer and as a child I was firmly convinced of June’s magical properties; Mid Summer Day was full of faeries, enchantment and stories of future loves and I had no reason to disbelieve this. On my sixteenth birthday,  I was given a bottle of homemade wine as a present, with a beautifully designed label entitled “Rachel’s Midsummer Magic” and I have been trying to maintain this feeling of enchantment ever since!

A shocking baking tragedy at Kentish Town! OH VILLAINY!

when icing goes wrong!

A fearful crime was committed at The Cottages in London's Kentish Town by a cook and housekeeper, Rachel Kelly. This is the particular account of the desecration, a murder most cruel, of a completely blameless cupcake.

OH BARBAROUS CRUELTY!

jubilee celebration cupcakes: a taste of summer with strawberries and cream

strawberries and cream cupcakes

 I have been dragged, kicking and screaming, to come up with an idea for a cupcake to celebrate our dear old maj's Diamond Jubilee. I can't say that I am a fan of the Royals as such, although the Queen herself doesn't seem to be a bad old bird. However, in a recent argument about whether we should have an elected figurehead rather than a heredity one, a friend clinched it for me by not only suggesting that there was a whole load of talentless z-list celebrities who would just love to wear the crown, but had two words for me . . . Margaret Thatcher (shudder).

So in grateful thanks that at least the Queen's 60 years have spared us that indignity, I decided I would make a cupcake that was suitably British and full of the joy of summer flavours.

lamb and feta morsels - let the party begin!

lamb and feta morsels

What is it about party food on a stick that we like so much? I suspect that like me, there are many British people of a certain age (cough, cough) who remember the joys of cheese and pineapple hedgehogs, along with cheese footballs and Twiglets . . . we see a cocktail stick and it speaks to us. "Eat me" it says, not in a trippy Alice in Wonderland kind of a way, but in the way that entices; "this will be fun. It will make you happy. Let's party!" 

I can remember the very first time I ate satay in Malaysia - chicken on a stick served with a sticky peanut sauce. I was seven years old and this food delighted me. It was fun, novel to my English eyes and tasted so very good too.