It’s true. Winter got a hold of me and shook me around a little. Maybe winter is punishing me for enjoying so many long hot summers in the southern hemisphere and wants to remind me what a good old fashioned English winter is really like. It is…cold, overcast, drizzly and full of sickness, from my estimations. There are wonderful things about English winter and we’ll get onto that later but for now, I’m going to whinge and whine a little and make my excuses as to why I have not written to you all in over a month. A month! I know, the cheek of it, how dare this Little Chef assume that you guys would be waiting patiently for my return.
So, here goes. The first bump in the road was a stomach flu which I will not dwell upon as it was too rancid for words, the negative in this situation was being laid up in bed for 6 days, convinced of my imminent demise, the positive was that I lost 6 pounds in 6 days. And this little bout of illness made food seem about as appealing as gouging out my own eyeballs with a teaspoon. It is kind of hard to write about food when you can’t even look it in the eye. But, no fear, my appetite did return, eventually. Straight off the back of that, I got a stinking cold. By this point, you can imagine that I was quite grumpy and not really in the mood for much apart from sleeping. And I seem to have been spending all of my limited free time running here there and everywhere catching up with my amazing friends and family. Which has obviously been great but has meant that I haven’t sat still for long enough (until now) to write a blog.
At various points throughout the last month, I have had great food experiences and meant to write about them, and didn’t. They have now accumulated into a rowdy, attention grabbing mass of stories, all vying for your attention. I think the only sensible way forward is to post a whole bunch of sexy photo’s (of food) and give you little bite sized stories. Off we go…
A wee little pigeon that I made for my very hard to please chef friend, the poached pears were the perfect match.
A delightful chunk of pork belly, that amount of fat never fails to make this Little Chef smile.
I had heard about the infamous Buttermilk and pine salt chicken at ‘Upstairs at the Ten Bells’ but even I wasn’t prepared for it to be this good. Recall the best, most moist chicken nugget you’ve ever eaten and then times that memory by a million and you’re still not even close to how good it was. The pine salt is a touch of absolute genius.
The very scrumptious rhubarb, buttermilk mousse and milk crisps, again at Upstairs at the Ten Bells.
Oh so pretty Borscht, there should be more pink food in the world!
Delicious Paella from the not particularly Spanish wilds of South London. Although it was lacking the soccarat…
Incredibly unhealthy nachos, they were worth every bite.
A sparkly little number that I made.