Into the thick of it.

How on earth do you working people blog so prolifically?! I'm sending out some serious respect to all of you working bloggers, especially those who are dedicated enough to be managing things like this!
Yes, I am now in the realms of work. Not exactly the nine to five, as it's more 8.30 until whenever things get done. But I'm loving it, which is a good sign. Okay, I'm only two days in, but they've been long days, with a steep learning curve, and so far so good. I'm hoping that once my body gets over the initial shock I'll be right back to the ridiculous amounts of baking and preserving that have graced this blog in the past.But, no fear, I do have a recipe for you today, and lots of other things to share. Firstly, I shall admit to spending the five days after hand-in very well indeed; in the beautiful sunny hills of Italy. We ate too much food, and drank far too much wine, and it was fabulous. The perfect little treat.As ever my photos were mostly food, and frankly with produce as stunning as that from Italy who can blame me. It wasn't quite autumn there, but the gourds were already out in force, showing off their deep oranges and dusky yellows. The grapes were heavy on the vines and the coffee and pastries divine. Mmmm....I also have seven things to share with you as hinted at in the previous post. I was very kindly given the kreativ blogger award by Liz, whose lovely blog occupies this corner of the web, and I think it's about time I share the seven fact about myself. Hmm, it's hard thinking of these things, but I'll give it my best shot. I just hope they're vaguely interesting.

- By the age of 11 I knew I wanted to do a PhD, and by the age of 14 I knew what I was going to do it in. Weird huh?!

- One of the reasons behind wanting a PhD was so that when I was a great rock and roll bass player people I could be called Dr, like Dr Dre or Dr John, and I'd actually be one. I haven't even picked up my bass for ages.

- I don't mind rodents or spiders, I love snakes. However, I am terrified of slugs and snails. They freak me out, and I have been known to freeze and squeal at the sight of them. I kid you not.

- One day I want to own two sheep. One called Eddie, the other called Bill.

- I'm bit odd about white and yellow foods. Eggs are only okay if cooked into cakes, I don't like bananas, and am very particular about creams and custards. It's a texture thing. Blah, slimy.

- I have competed in a national fencing competition. I came second to last.

- I'm not a huge fan of potatoes, or any other carb apart from fresh pasta or bread, but I crave good chips rather more often than I admit to.

And speaking of which, I give you a recipe:
These were perfect just before we went away. Baked rather than fried and seasoned with lashings of salt, pepper and paprika. Amazing. They may seem simple, but try them.

Baked paprika chips.

One large potato per person
2 tsp oil per potato + 2 tsp (I used olive)
salt
black pepper
smoked paprika

Preheat the oven to 220C. Coat a large roasting pan with 2 tsp of oil and place in the oven as it warms.

Slice the potatoes into small strips, making them like fries rather than traditional British chips. Once the oven has reached temperature spread the chips out into the pan and drizzle the remaining oil over it, grind some pepper and salt over them and toss. Return the pan to the oven and cook until the chips are golden brown and crisping. You'll need to toss them about every fifteen minutes. Mine took about 45mins.

Remove from the oven. Douse in paprika to your own taste (I like a lot). Return to the oven for two minutes to bring out the flavour of the spice and then serve tossed with more salt and pepper.

See, I've finally given you a recipe! I promise more, honest. Apparently there's a tradition in the office that every Friday someone brings in some sort of cake. Guess who's getting in on that immediately!

As for passing on the award, I have a theory. So many of you out there are creative and blogging, that passing it on to just seven people would be a little cruel, and as it happens I know many of you have already either received the award, or something similar. So, I shall instead just try and pass on my enthusiasm and love of all things creative and hope to continue reading about all the amazing things you are all already doing that inspire me daily and make me realise that no matter how long the days at work, coming back to this little space makes me grin and motivates me. Thank you everyone, for your reading, and for your writing.

House hunting

While visiting my parents last week I decided to do a spot of house hunting. The first was quite small, only eight or so bedrooms, open courtyard for afternoon tea and a drawing room with only enough room for one piano. Cramped, but cosy, we'd cope, but it might be a struggle. It's saving grace however was the beautiful walled garden and large greenhouses. Definitely something that would be worth compromising for.


Then I saw this, large with the grandeur that befits our cat (because yes, he is the head of the household). It comes not only with cottages for the staff, it's own hydro-electic power station and a large kitchen with downstairs scullery, but with a whole separate room for making jam. Now that's what I'm talking about.


In all honestly the prettiest places we saw were indeed the staff cottages.

I could just see us in one of these, N curled up writing, and me sewing or knitting, Sniff lounging in front of the fireplace or pottering in the garden.



One day...one day....

Ah, I love the National Trust.

The reveal (part one)

So, I have a confession to make, which might go a little way to explaining why I have been slack in commenting and reading blogs recently. It's not because I've fallen out of love with you all, oh no, I'm just as obsessed with all the gorgeous blogs and food out there as ever, it's just been the slight issue of being across the world in the southern hemisphere.

Yep, you heard that right, for the past month I've been in New Zealand.

Er, surprise!

I know it will probably be quite a shock since I decided to do what K has called "phantom blogging." I just didn't want this little space to get neglected while I was freezing my ass off spurning the English summer for a proper winter.

Why was I there? Well, friends of ours were getting married, and it couldn't be missed, and given that it was going to take us almost thirty bum-aching hours on a plane to get there we figured we might as well make a holiday out of it. Now yes, it does seem a little strange to me both get married and holiday in winter, since my experience of winter is of dull grey perpetual rain. NZ, being the gorgeous place it is, does winter a little differently. Okay, it was bloody freezing, and even with my layers of alpaca jumper, coat and a windproof waterproof jacket the cold was biting at times, but the sun was out almost every day and the autumnal colours were still hanging on the trees. I don't think it could have been more beautiful if it tried. Plus, can you imagine wedding photos on the tops of snowy mountains?!

Yes. I get it now! I've always loved the idea of a proper autumn or winter, but it's so rare to get them here in England, now I feel completely spoiled as I got a second winter that showed me just how perfect bright cold days can be, and have returned to hot weather and a greenhouse full of tomato plants! The best of both worlds.

So yes, as you can probably see I have so much to tell about, including my baking exploits in hostels! It's true you know, you can take the baker out of her kitchen, but you can't take the want for baking out of the girl.

I shall post exciting things about my experiments soon, and share part two of the reveal in a couple of days when the world stops being a bit blurry and jet-lagged around the edges.

Until then, it's very very good to be back, and I'm loving catching up with everyone's news.

p.s. Nicole, thank you so much for the Hokey-Pokey heads up...have you had it on rhubarb? Oh yes. mmmmm.......

Who needs Paris?

Surprise! We've been in France for the weekend. A very quick trip to see N's folks, and a welcome one, because who doesn't enjoy coffee and pain au chocolate in the sunshine, walks along hill paths covered in wild rosemary, morning markets, and evening drinks? I've been dreaming of Paris trips recently, but this little touch of the vie Francaise, has reminded me that I don't necessarily need the capital to satisfy my whims.

Needless to say there's been no cooking this weekend, or sewing for that matter, just a whole lot of relaxing and wine. I'm itching to get back into the kitchen, but until then I shall have to leave you with a few images of the tres bon sud de France.

Sun, sea, Sevilles and snow!

At the end of October N started looking a little concerned and sheepish. A bit like Sniff does when he thinks he's done something cute, but worries that we might not think it quite so nice (like when he sleeps on N's clothes to show his affection, spreading his allergen-laden fur all over the things N might want to wear). In November the frequency of this look increased until N finally confessed that he'd already bought my birthday present and wasn't sure if I'd like it. I assured him it would be wonderful, that he always got me brilliant things, and didn't think much more about it.

Then, as my birthday crept nearer I become more intrigued, and finally on the day I was very nervously presented with an envelope. I was, by now, completely stumped. I ripped it open and eagerly pulled out the A4 sheets of paper neatly folded inside.

"Hello from River Cottage HQ! We are delighted that you are going to join us for Preserved - Winter on Monday 19th of January"
I couldn't believe it. I was going to River Cottage, and I was going to learn all about jams, and chutney, cordials, jellies, bottling and everything. I can't remember if I actually jumped up and down, but that's how I felt. Talk about best birthday present EVER!

So yes, yesterday I was off in the depths of the south-west watching Pam "the jam" Corbin and Liz "the pickle" Neville make all sorts of delicious smelling preserves, being fed delicious locally produced food and generally being rather smug. Oh and watching the snow. Yes, that's right, true to form, once again we brought the bad weather with us. I mean, I know it's January, but I didn't expect to get caught between a yurt and a barn with a steaming cup of coffee in a blizzard!
There is so much to tell about the day. Not only did I learn loads, but I met some amazing people, all of whom share the same passion for food as me. I can't tell you how comforting it is to sit in a room full of people who don't think its that weird to constantly talk about food, and who don't think dreams of self-sufficiency and owning bakeries is pure madness! I am hoping I didn't bore them to death too much and that perhaps they will pop in here. It'd be good to know how they're getting on with the preserving too.

I don't want to ramble on here about it all, as it would take forever, and I am still trying to take stock myself. As you can probably imagine poor N had three and a half hours in the car on the drive home listening to my "and then they did this...," "then I got to eat this...," "then so-and-so told me about this..." I think that drive must have felt a lot longer for him, and yet he never once tried to stop me and even encouraged me. I did mention he's wonderful, right? However, I will share some photos of the day, and hopefully as I make some preserves over the next few days and weeks I can remember to tell the odd anecdote here and there.

I will say however, that I had a totally amazing and inspiring time. I am itching to get going and waiting a whole day for my Seville oranges to arrive is seeming like forever! I may well have to raid the freezer fruit stash just so I can have a go at something later!

Having taken the weekend for the trip I should also mention that we got to see some of that bit of the world. Very nice indeed, and Lyme Regis offered us up not only a beautiful walk along the coast in sunshine that made it almost too warm for coats, and many bookshops to browse, but also a bakery/coffee shop that was filled with books about architecture and cookery. Could there be a more perfect venue for us to have a mid-morning caffeine top-up?Like I said, inspiration everywhere.

Thank you N for the best birthday ever, and thank you to the people I met and all those at River Cottage HQ who made the day so magical.

Hmmm....I wonder when I can pursude N to take me to visit again?




p.s. photo disclaimer - sorry there aren't more and better, but I am still wading through them trying to pick the best and many from the actual demonstrations were taken hastily and through a mirror so aren't the best anyway. Scenic seaside shots to come! I liked the above because of the "builders" option in the teas!

Bon Fete!

Bonjour, et bon fete!

I know, I know, I've been terribly slack the last two weeks. I had big plans for writing in December, a multitude of posts containing all things festive. Alas, it's all gotten away from me a bit. I have a stack of photos sitting to be riffled through, and recipes to post, but somehow all I want to be doing is pottering about grinning at the fairy lights.

I have other excuses too. We've just returned from a quick trip to France where we drank lots of wine, played on the Wii (loads more fun than I had anticipated, seriously get the skiing, it's HILARIOUS!) and swapping presents with N's family. Although the trip ended in the seemingly typical festive fog (last time we were there at this time of year the fog was so thick we were worried out flights would be cancelled), we did have one day of glorious winter sunshine, so bright and warming that we managed to sit outside in a cafe whilst gazing at the marche - then again, it might have been the Christmas spirit and cognac that was warming, but who's arguing?!


I will try and post about some of the numerous Christmassy things I've been up to in the kitchen, but until then I shall leave you with a selection of teasing photographs from en France.

A taste of Italy.

I know, I know, I have been absent for far too long and keep meaning to post and somehow things keep getting in the way - cleaning, doing the mound of washing, putting up new bookcases, - you know, the usual things.

Anyway, here is a selection of the promised photos from Italy. I took over a thousand, so you can understand why I have had to be so select here. I am going to try and stay vaguely food related since that is the point of the blog, but I'm sure a few others will creep in! Also, they're all out of chronology because I can't be bothered faffing about with Blogger moving them. Sorry! I have at least added captions so you know what things are.

Bunches and bunches of chillies on a stall in Bologna

Bologna is a dangerous place, so much good food, so much of which ended up in my suitcase, I kid you not!

Borlotti beans

The food not in our suitcases was in our stomachs: another Tiramisu bites the dust.

Another one of my great loves, books. In the library at the University of Bologna museum.

This brilliantly mustached man was the waiter who served us cake and wine in Florence, and took our picture.

A great little Osteria in Montepulciano where we had one of the best meals of the holiday.

Pear, brie and rocket, my started on our night Florence.

Room service breakfast on our sunny balcony in San Gimignano. We made Pain au chocolate by spreading nutella in our croissants. Mmm...

The most expensive breakfast ever. In the main square in Florence. Delicious and a gorgeous setting, but it cost more than our dinner (two courses each and wine and water) the night before!

Start as you mean to go on: a litre of wine on our first night.

Bicerin: a drink invented in Turin, made with coffee, chocolate and cream. So decadent, rich, but not sweet.

Tomatoes at the end of the market bathing in the Turin afternoon sun.

A break from the relentless rain in Stresa brought us to the black cat cafe and yet another game of scrabble won by N.

Out of Office Autoreply

We're off on holiday tomorrow! Whoo! A well-earned break and a frantic attempt to catch some late summer sunshine and relax before the onlslaught of the depths of grey that is the British winter.

I'm sorry I don't have a recipe, or even a picture of food to share before I go. I've been a little distracted. So much so that today I baked N's shoes. Oh yes. I did. I won't elaborate, it's too embarrassing,

Instead I shall leave you with a picture of Sniff, who I am hoping will still be speaking to us when we get back, although I doubt it.

Ciao!

Mangarita!

Whilst on our "Rock 'n' Roll road trip" across the desert we discovered this;


It's a mango margarita, or as we have christened it (after a few of them had hit the spot), a "mangarita." It was wonderful. We were pointed in it's direction by the manager of the motel we were staying. We'd just turned up hoping he had rooms, and he did. He then asked us if we like Mexican food and pointed us to his favourite place, adding that "they have the best mango margarita there, and it's staggering distance so you won't have to worry about how many you have." That sounded like a dangerous challenge to us. So off we went, across the street to the back of the darkened mall, and there indeed was a very nice looking local Mexican place. We put together a selection of their veggie stuff (mostly starters, hence our combination in an attempt to make sure we had enough food - we should have learnt about American portions, there was definitely enough!) and ordered our "mangaritas." We're not usually the types who order cocktails, pre- post- or during a meal. We're more a bottle of wine of beer folks. But mango is probably N's favourite fruit, and to add alcohol to it just seemed too much like a good idea to pass up. Oh they were so good. They were not too thick, but not too thin, a good proper alcoholic kick, but without loosing the mango taste. We ordered more, staggered back to the motel room very smug and full and spent the rest of the holiday (especially the three nights in Mexico) frantically looking for more mangaritas on menus.

Alas it wasn't to be. So as soon as we got home we started looking around for recipes, we picked on and I put it in my scrapbook and there it has been lying, dormant, waiting for us to try it. How it's taken us this long I don't know, we've been back well over a month and have certainly had some hot days that would easily help justify a cocktail. Finally this week I hunted out three overripe mangoes and sent N out for tequilla. This was the result:



Our very own mangaritas! They were probably slightly too watery, as the recipe said to blend the mango with some water which upon reflection - and tasting - was definitely not needed. They weren't quite as good as those from the desert, but with a little honing and plenty more trying I think we'll get it right!

How did we serve them? With a slice of lime and a game of chocolate scrabble! A perfect end to a Sunday evening.


Mangaritas (makes enough for about 4-6 drinks depending on the size)

3-4 ripe mangoes
sugar to taste
4 ounces of tequilla
2 ounces triple sec (we used this, but decided it probably isn't necessary so will probably leave it out next time)
1 1/2 cups ice
lime to garnish

prepare the flesh of the mangos, place in a blender and whizz until smooth, adding sugar to taste (baring in mind the tequilla will make the drink slightly bitter, so despite the sweetness of mangoes a little sugar will probably be needed). This will form the base of the cocktail.

mix three cups of the above mango mix in a blender with the ice, tequilla and triple sec, blend until smooth. Divide between four cocktail glasses and add a slice of lime.

Everyone's a winner!

After trawling through all the entries to my blogging competition I have decided to announce the winners!

First prize goes to L who successfully (and speedily) deduced that the two miscellaneous plants are indeed potatoes. We thought we might have planted some!

D is the lucky winner of the bonus prize for his handy tips about what to do with them next. As soon as we make it to the garden centre we'll be buying bigger pots so we can "earth up" the plants. How exciting.

So, it seems that everyone's a winner. L and D on the blog, and us because it looks like we've got some nice healthy potatoes on the way! Prizes will be on their way once I decide what they're going to be *ponders.*

In other North London Garden news, the pesky slugs eat our lettuce and had a good ole bash at the courgettes. N's hurried move to put the pots in the greenhouse one evening (after I stupidly left them out after dark) was coupled with the shout back into the flat of "eurgh, it's slug-city out here!" Needless to say on the aforementioned garden centre trip we will also be buying gravel and little dishes to rest our pots in, with the hope of being able to sustain pre-ventative measures rather than more cruel, but possible more deserved, death-based techniques.

Anyway, the slug attack has at least prompted me to get back on the planting case, and now it's a bit warmer (and we're actually here to look after them) the need seeds I sowed today will grow up nice and strong. I planted new courgettes and lettuce, pumpkin (a variety called "Becky" - I couldn't resist), peppers and spinach. Fingers crossed.

Whilst on the subject of flora and fauna, I did promise some tales and photos from our trip, which I haven't managed yet. I will get around to it, I promise. Until then I will leave you with a couple of photos in the plant and animal theme. Firstly a view across the Mojave desert showing the Joshua trees in the aptly named Joshua Tree National Park.




Then a cheeky lizard perched on the rocks in Joshua tree, who was perched quite happily bobbing up and down in the midday sunshine.

The perfect welcome home - finally!

As you might have gathered it's all been a bit quiet in the North London Kitchen. That's because we've been away on a bit of a tour taking in the sights of Los Angeles (work not fun) and Cuba (fun not work). We are however back in Our Lovely Flat (tm) and feeling very very pleased about it. We're not usually people who are desperate to come home whilst travelling, but this time around we really felt the need to be back in our own place, with a comfortable bed, and most importantly our own food.

We had to do the return in three stages, since the ridiculous United States insist on enforcing trade embargoes on Cuba and so we couldn't travel direct between LA (where are return flights to the UK were from). This meant an arduous journey going from Havana, to Cancun, then Cancun to LA before we could fly home. This would have been fine under usual circumstances, but being the awkward thing it is my body finally decided to complain about the bad fibre-free-veggie-hating Cuban/Mexican diet on the flight back to LA. We'd already had an awful flight to Cancun since Cuba can clearly only afford to supply tin cans and amateur pilots to their airlines. So having emerged a little green in Cancun we planned to relax on the beach for our brief 24hr stop and then head back to LA suitably refreshed the next evening. It wasn't to be.

I arrived at Cancun airport feeling fine, but about half an hour before boarding my stomach started complaining. Quietly at first, and then with increasing insistence. I thought this might just be nerves and adrenalin as I have never been the most enthusiastic flier and after the previous experience it is understandable that my body might be a bit reluctant to get on a plane again so soon. I took a travel sickness pill, and sternly told my stomach where it could put its uncomfortablness, I wasn't having it.

Oh, but I was. An hour into the flight and I was getting worse, and having disturbed the woman sitting next to be on several occasions for trips to the toilet she finally (and very kindly) went and spoke to the Spanish flight attendant for me explaining I was feeling ill. I was promptly whisked (with a worried looking N in tow) to the front of the plane and asked numerous questions about what I had eaten and drunk in the past few days. Visably relieved to discovered I hadn't eaten on the plane (and so couldn't be ill as a result of them) he then fished out a box of medications and gave me two pills and a glass of water and coke to try and settle my stomach. This was clearly exactly what my stomach had been waiting for, and promptly and violently made its discomfort known to everyone (ah, thank goodness for the invention of airsickness bags!)

The flight continued for the rest of the five hours very much in this vein with poor N having to look after a rather shell-shocked me. (I haven't thrown up since I was about five, so the whole thing came as something as a shock to me, perhaps even more so than it did to N and the flight attendant!).

We were so glad to finally touch down in Los Angeles, that it didn't occur to us that the evening could get worse! We managed to flag down a cab and after a somewhat bumpy ride (eek!) arrived at our hotel. It had a "no vacancies" sign up outside, but that was fine, we assured the cab driver, we had a reservation. Oh no we didn't, not according to the hotel, who hadn't been informed of our booking. I nearly cried at this point. The guy was so nice though, and even let me log into my email on his machine and show him the booking (we hadn't been able to print it off in Cuba.) He then phoned a motel in a better location, who had rooms and would let us stay for the rate already agreed in our booking. All we had to do was get another cab across to it and check in. It wasn't the greatest looking place, and was clearly priced according to location rather than quality, but at we were only going to be there one night, and at this point anything would do ut.

It was midnight by the time I was finally able to collapse in bed, and at the sound of breaking glass a block away soon after we turned the light out we could only laugh - albeit through rather resigned gritted teeth.

After a nice lazy day pottering around in Santa Monica, me nursing a very tender stomach and not really sure of putting anything in it and certainly not fancying anything we headed to the airport. The final stretch was upon us, all we had to do was make it though the ten hour flight, get on a tube and we'd be home. Yeah, right, like it would be that simple.

I still couldn't face much food on the flight, but managed to force down a bread roll and a glass of apple juice. Of course, as soon as I had braved this the turbulence started. It has been a little bumpy already, but not so much to make me worried, but when we hit the thunderstorm it was the final straw. I hit total and almost hysterical despair. Poor N spent half an hour just holding me trying to calm me down. I think I spent the whole time quietly mumbling "I just want to go home."

Fortunately it ended, and he managed to distract me for an hour with a game of scrabble. I then took one of the tablets a pharmacist in LA had given me, which would both sooth my stomach and make me drowsy. It totally knocked me out for four hours. Thank goodness.

I have never been so pleased to arrive and drag myself through Heathrow, and to top off the amazingness of being back on English soil, we were greeted with stunning weather. Sunny and warm. Hotter, in fact, than it had been in Santa Monica. We arrived home to a luscious green garden with many of our vegetable plants thriving with the sun streaming through the trees which had leaves on again. A total change of scene compared to the snow we left in.

It was the perfect welcome home.

More tales from the trip (more cultural and less intestinal!) to come with some photos too. Just wanted to share our (in hindsight) hilarious trip home, to let everyone know we're still here and very very glad to be back.