From the Crack-Addict Cookbook: CocoPop Pannacotta with Rice Krispie Praline

Coco-Pop panna cotta, rice krispie praline, apple, oranges and
coffee granita (not pictured, my bad)

'What's this?' I hear you say. 'Two postings within a week. Why Ambassador, with this blog you are really spoiling us!' To which I reply, 'Yes, yes I am.' Truth is, the reason for the update is not due to an abundance of generosity, but that even more illusive nugget that is: free time. Due to some cock-up with holiday pay and hours owed I am, for the second week in a row, enjoying four days in a row. So if fad has not faded to the point of uber-lame, allow me to declare: winning!

I swear I was not high, nor under the influence of anything unsavory when I came up with this. Nor was I in the depths of 'the day after the night before' whereby the mental filter that would determine whether or not an idea is 'decent, worthy of noting' or 'plain batshit crazy' would be on the blip. No, the most worrying aspect of this post and the recipe it contains is that I was of totally sound mind and body the day I came up with this. The only thing more unsettling than that bit of information is this: the dish itself, it actually kinda rocks.

It started as a simple thought that snowballed into something that became equal parts delicious and demented. Essentially if you were to give it a pretentious synopsis you would say it's a playful deconstruction of breakfast with a sprinkle of nostalgia. It was a Sunday in work and despite the busy night previous I had steamed my way through the prep so found myself in the rare position of not really having that much to do. This is a dangerous thing, you see, the thing about being a chef is that your time pre-service is spent just getting ready for it. So matter how busy or quiet it is, that's all you're focused on, that's all you care about. But with the mental blinkers of preparing for service now removed I look around and, as if for the first time, find myself surrounded by stoves, cookers, equipment and an insanely well-stocked pantry. 'Well-well,' says the culinary Loki on my shoulder, 'whatever shall we get up to now?'

Seared scallops with beurre 'vert'

Some interesting stuff has come out of these little sessions. The skin cracker with sous-vide chicken from the last post was the latest. Another was the idea of blending softened butter with spinach to give it a vibrant green colour, when cooled and set, this was then incorporated into a buerre blanc (technically making it a buerre vert) sautéed bacon, peas and herbs were then stirred through. Served with sautéed scallops it was total killer. However not everything has worked out as well. I'm still haunted by The German's face wrinkling in disgust, and then promptly spitting into the nearest bin, my attempt at pickled samphire. However this desert proved to be a step towards redemption.

I was getting a cup of milk from the dispenser in the service area of the kitchen where a majority of the breakfast items are stored. One of these is a multi-drum cereal dispenser. As I stood there drinking my milk and looking at this drum I saw one of the cereals were Coco-Pops. A waft of nostalgia crept through and I remembered that when I was a kid the best part of having a bowl of Coco-Pops for breakfast was finishing the cereal but still having a half-bowl of chocolaty milk with a slight malt flavour left to slurp through. 'Mmm, good times.' I thought and turned to go about the rest of my day. But then I remembered David Chang doing a panna cotta flavored with Corn Flakes, and that was it. As in that moment I realised there was no way I could on living my life without trying this!

Infusing the milk/cream with Coco-pops

The result is panna cotta infused with Coco-pops. I then started thinking about what to put with it. The panna cotta is soft and smooth so I knew I needed crunch. So keeping the breakfast cereal theme and I made a Rice Krispie praline. Sweet and sweet, now I need something to brighten it up. I went with two fruits that are commonplace at the breakfast table, oranges and apples. In this case, diced raw apple mixed with some fine orange zest. A line of toffee sauce for decoration and works well with the praline. And finely, when I saw I had a good range of textures I decided I needed a change in temperature, so to thematically bring it full circle a coffee granita. Granita is basically a sorbet that hasn't been churned, think of a dry slushie, or flavored snow.

Rice Krispie praline cooling

I got The German to try it, after his initial reaction which was to introduce random drug-testing in the kitchen, he took a spoonful and tasted. Then something happened. Something so rare and fleeting that some would question if it even occurred at all. The bastard actually smiled.

Coco-Pop Panna cotta, Rice Krispie Praline and Coffee Granita (not pictured, my bad)

300ml cream

200ml milk

1 cup approx Coco-pops

2 tbsp sugar

2 leaves gelatin, softened in cold water

100g caster sugar

1/2 cup Rice Krispies

2 cups of lukewarm espresso

30g sugar

1. Place the milk and cream in a pot and heat until warm, but do not boil.
2. Remove from heat, pour in Coco-pops and stir. Let infuse at room temperature for twenty minutes- one hour.
3. Strain well, return to stove and heat again until warm. Add the sugar, squeeze excess water from gelatin and add to pot. Stir to dissolve.
4. Pour mixture into desired moulds, place in fridge to set.
5. Put sugar with a bit of water in a small pot and place on a high heat.
6. Heat until it caramelises to a dark amber colour, remove from heat and stir in Rice Krispies.
7. Spoon out onto a tray covered with a layer of baking parchment. Be careful as the mixture is insanely hot. Allow to cool at room temperature.
8. Break into pieces and pulse roughly in food processor. Store in airtight container at room temperature.
9. Stir sugar until dissolved in coffee.
10. Place in small, shallow container and freeze.
11. Before serving take a dinner fork and scrape over the mix.
12. To serve (as I did anyway but don't take as gospel) sprinkle a line of coco powder on your plate. Draw on two lines of toffee sauce at an angle to this. Remove panna cotta from mould and carefully place onto the line of coco. (mine were pretty stubborn so I had to dip the moulds in hot water, which, while successfully freeing them, started to melt the edges. Hence why the one pictured looks a bit deformed at the end)
13. Sprinkle the praline on top of the panna cotta and place the diced apple and orange zest around the plate.
14. Finally remove granita from freezer and place a small spoonful to the side.

Quick Notes About Previous Posts

In my last post in which I preached then pros and virtues of sous vide cooking, I banged on about how it allowed uniform doneness when cooking meat. Yet some of you may have noticed how the heading photo which was meant to show it off was taken in a way that didn't really, well, show it off. That's because I was having problems with my meat (and not for the first time) I'd home-vac my steak, put it in and when it'd be done I'd remove, sear and slice it. Yet instead of revealing the sweet-sweet uniform pink I was promised and hoped, I was rewarded with a manky shade of grey. Now while the exterior will always oxidize to a degree, this is unavoidable, having it oxidize internally is unheard of. Numerous searches online revealed nothing. For all intensive purposes this problem has never been encountered. So I varied, well, everything trying to find out what was causing this. From different ways of sealing the bag, to cooking with different liquids in the bag (thought maybe high-acidity fluids like soy or stout was a cause) to no liquids. To the amount of time spent 'under vacuum' all not making that much difference. Less time seemed to lessen it but, you should be able to cook meat indefinitely without any internal oxidization occurring. Otherwise how is Thomas Keller doing 72 hour short-ribs that are cooked medium? So soon after posting he piece I got me some duck breast, et voila! Perfect medium-rare, so what's the craic Jack? Only variable left to explore was the meat itself and then I got my answer. You see, I'm not a rich man by any means (form an orderly queue ladies) so that affects my food shopping. Chicken legs: half price? You bet! Ribeye from questionable sources: 60% off? Count me in! But the thing is, the same thing would happen even with what the supermarkets claimed was 'their finest 21 day aged Angus'. I went into the best butcher I knew, got a striploin that was €10 more per kilo then what I would pay. Bagged and cooked it. In a word S-U-C-C-E-S-S. Finely the €800 egg cooker was doing what it was meant to! Because the places that are using and experimenting with sous vide are generally pretty well-funded and high-end, you can bet their ingredients are equally top notch. Hence, it's not surprising theirs never been the book, 'Sous Vide on a Budget' After all I can't imagine Marcus Wareing getting a KP to run down to Tesco for some back-up lamb chops. But this discovery leads to the unsettling matter, why does this happen to supermarket meat? It's a question I'm sure there's an answer to it, but whether I really want to know is a different matter entirely. Your thoughts people. . . .

Ribeye steak, cooked for two hours at 56 degrees C.

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Stout, Steak and Sous Vide

Stout and Sous Vide Steak with Stew Garnish

I know it’s a cliché to say, but I’ve never won anything. Having spent my schooldays committed to mediocrity and inexcellence, prizes and accolades were about as rare as a designated driver on Paddy’s Day. Actually that’s not true, when I was ten I won the Wilson Cup for junior acting for my part in Rumpelstiltskin. Which may as well have been the award for Knowing All Your Lines, Getting Through Your Part With a Clean Nose And Not Spending The Entirety of Your Time on Stage Looking For Your Parents Amongst The Crowd, but would’ve meant the engraving be the same size as the cup.  However two weeks ago I get a call in work from the MD of Eurolec, saying that after putting my name in the draw at their stand at the Catex Expo last month, I was now the proud owner of a Grant SV100 immersion circulator. . . .I will now pause for moment to bask in your collective envy. For those of you not taking a moment to contemplate how life has been nothing but a serious of misfortunes and let-downs while muttering, ‘some people have all the luck’ under their breath’s, you’re probably wondering what the hell it is and what it does. You, and nearly every single staff member who’s walked through my section and seen this piece of kit. Which is funny, given that a staff of a dozen cooks that total nearly half a century of experience, the resounding response to, ‘It’s an immersion circulator.’ is a blank stare followed by ‘How much does it cost?’ ‘If you were to buy it, about a grand.’ A curse word is then usually muttered followed by a shake of the head. Occasionally the odd one will not be satisfied by this and will ask what it does. Which by itself warrants a fairly straightforward answer, but the whole point of this piece of equipment is not so much what it does, but what it allows you to do. And that is a whole other matter entirely.



Chicken leg with herbs and star anise,
before.



First off, essentially all an immersion circulator does is heat water, that’s pretty much it. (My housemate’s response, ‘So it’s a really, really expensive kettle?’) But as it heats water it keeps it moving to regulate it to an exact preset temperature. It will keep this temperature to .01 of a degree and hold it indefinitely, days if needed. That’s what it does, now for the other matter. The matter is called Sous Vide, and if you’re not familiar with it then prepare yourself to join to ranks of the informed.



After 3 hours at 70 degrees C.



Sous Vide is the most common application in the kitchen that this device is used for. This translates as ‘under vacuum’, the item you wish to be cooked is placed in plastic bag, the bag is then vacuum-packed to remove the air within it. It’s then placed in water heated to a precise temperature. No doubt a lot of you will have seen this been done on TV at some stage. I was explaining it to one of the girls in the office, after a moments realisation she blurted out, ‘Oh yeah, that’s that thing that guy did on Masterchef.’ There’s no doubt that the use of Sous Vide cooking has become increasingly widespread of the past ten years. In truth it is no longer seen as a radical, avant-garde technique. Used only by those practicing the dark art of *hisses* ‘molecular gastronomy’. But now chefs are viewing it for what it is, just another way of doing something. The same way the microwave is an alternative to heating something over an oven. And a stick blender is an alternative to a bowl and whisk. Proof being that even the old school titans of classic high-end French cookery, namely Ducasse, Robuchon and Thomas Keller have all relented and have all fully implemented it into their multi-Michelin starred kitchens around the world. Keller even wrote a book on it. So how and why does it work? Not to procrastinate, but before we answer this we need to address something else. As the most common use of Sous Vide is to cook meat, in order to understand how cooking in this manner is different from conventional methods, we need to understand a few points of what happens to meat when we cook it.



High humidity meant I wouldn't get crispy
skin ,so baked  it separately between two
baking trays.

Doneness: I don’t mean to dissuade you but there are experienced chef’s that have been cooking steaks for years that will not be familiar with what I’m about to say. You see, when you cook steak in a restaurant or at home, gauging i’s doneness be it from rare – well done, is determined by feeling. You can press it as it cooks and judge by its resistance. Alternatively, chefs would stick a metal skewer in, leave for 5 seconds, pull out and rest it under your lip. If it’s slightly warm, it’s rare-medium rare. If it’s roasting hot it’s well done. The idea is that the metal absorbs the internal heat, therefore the temperature you feel is the temp inside the meat. (For this reason I find an instant-read digital thermometer to be indispensable.) But what most people don’t consider that different levels of doneness occur at different temperatures. Example, rare is about 45-50 degrees C, medium is between 60-65 and well is past 70. So if you’re cooking a piece of meat and you want it a certain way, you cook it until the core reaches the temperature required. So traditionally you put it on a hot pan or bang it in the oven. But even if you want it well done, both methods involve the item been exposed to temperatures greater then you want it to ultimately end up. The result is that, say you cut your steak after it’s been cooked and look at the inside, the core may be exactly as you’d like it. But moving out from that they’ll be areas around it that have gone passed the desired temperature in order to cook the core sufficiently. So while most of your steak is spot-on, nearly a third of it is technically overcooked. Also when you get a steak or chop that hasn’t been evenly cut from the joint you can end with uneven cooking, as one part of the item is thicker than the other and so requires longer cooking. So half of your steak is fine but one part is overcooked. Now, can we kind of see where this is going?



Skin cracker, boom!

By having an item cooking in an environment where the temperature never exceeds that of the desired doneness (such as, say, water been heated by an immersion circulator?) all issues named above are simply, no longer issues. I want a piece of meat cooked medium, you set the machine to 60 degrees, drop it in and that’s it. The result is a piece of meat that, when sliced, is perfectly cooked and completely uniform in colour from end to end. This also near-eliminates another pitfall in not just meat cookery, but cookery in general: overcooking. ‘How long are you going to cook them for?’ The German asks me as I drop in marinated chicken livers, rolled into a sausage-shaped tube, ‘I want them about medium-well. Gonna give them bout an hour and a half.’ ‘An hour and a half, for medium-well! But zay will overcook!’ I then explained (again, to my SOUS chef) that because no part is exceeding the temperature desired, traditional overcooking is just not possible. That’s not to say stuff can be left there forever as a kind of tenderisation occurs and that doesn’t work for tender cuts such as chops and steaks. Also I’ve noticed on occasion that prolonged cooking in steak has caused them to oxidise internally, though still fine to eat, just doesn’t look that appealing. However the fact that adding ingredients to the bag with your item, allow it to be continually marinated as it’s cooking and not just before. Allowing a multitude of opportunities to add and impart flavour.

Borrowed some stuff from the garnish section: Chicken Leg cooked Sous Vide with
wild mushrooms and skin cracker.



Lastly there is one big advantage to this technique and for that we need to get slightly technical. Meat and fish are comprised mainly of protein. Yet the thing about protein and protein strands is how they react to heat. Mainly the fact that past the temperature of 85 degrees C they begin to contract. This has implications when it comes to cooking meat. As we’ve said, traditionally cooking meat requires high temperatures. The result is that areas that have exceeded this temp, the protein strands have contracted. The reaction causes moisture to be essentially squeezed out of the meat, like wringing out a damp cloth. And that, ladies and gents is why overcooked chicken is dryer then Mormon’s 21^st! This relates to my funky egg post. Eggs of course been stacked with protein, having them cooking at low temp results to completely different texture.

Last week saw St. Patrick's Day, which I shockingly spent in work, during which I learnt that there are few experiences more soul-destroyingly depressing to an Irishman. Anyway I brought Grant home and decided that I would make some homage to the day it was. Beef and Guinness Stew is one of the more well known strings in the Irish cusine bow. Traditional Irish dishes are hard to pin down, apart from, take a British dish replace everything that isn't meat with pototes. But this one is a belter. Here I decided to refine it by replaced the diced stewing beef with striploin steak, which was cooked Sous Vide in herbs, garlic, stout and stock. The garnish here is basically a traditional stew minus the beef which doubles as a sauce. Unconventional? Yes. Clever? Maybe. Pretentionus, while trivialsing the culture and history of our great nation? Pretty much, but that's the advantage of actually being Irish, not just your Grandmother.

Stout and Sous Vide Steak with Stew Garnish

1 striploin steak, approx 200-300 grams

500ml can of Irish Stout

2tbsp chicken stock

2-3 sprigs of thyme

1 clove of garlic, peeled and roughly chopped

1 decent sealable freezer bag

1 small red onion, finely sliced

2 rashers of streaky bacon, cut into lardons

3-4 button mushrooms, finely sliced

1 medium roosterpotato, cut into large dice and blanched until nearly done

1½ tbsp plain flour, add more if needed

½ cup of beer or chicken stock

small knob of butter, 10-20 grams

2 tbsp of finely chopped parsley

1. Set water bath to preferred temp.
2. Place the steak, thyme, garlic, stock and about 150ml of the stout into the bag.




Sealing the bag

3. Work all the air bubble out from around the steak. To seal I use the David Arnold method of home-vacuuming. Fill a basin or pot big enough to submerge the bag in with water. Seal the bag all the way till about 1” from the end. Hold from this opening. Place the bag in the water, keeping just this opening above the surface. With your other hand push the last of the air out, the water pressure should take out most of it. Carefully close the last of the seal.
4. Place into water bath. Leave for nearly an hour but not more than two.
5. Fry bacon on high heat with a tbsp or two or oil.
6. When they’ve got a bit of colour, turn down the heat to medium and throw in the onions.
7. After about 3-4 minutes add the mushrooms.
8. Stir in the flour and after a minute add about 150 ml of the remaining stout.
9. Drink remaining stout.
10. Bring to boil while stirring, add stock and bring to boil.
11. Add potatoes and most of the parsley.
12. Reduce until desired consistency. Take off heat and stir in butter.
13. Take bag from the bath and let sit for about 5 minutes.
14. Remove from bag and pat dry. If you want the liquid in bag can be adding to the ‘stew’.
15. Get a frying pan on a high heat and let warm for at least 5 minutes so it’s screaming hot.
16. Season steak with salt, pepper and a little oil.
17. Sear for no more than 15 seconds on each side. Remove from heat.
18. Place the stew garnish in middle of the plate. At angle slice the steak and arrange on top. Sprinkle with parsley and serve.

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Cured and Beeten Salmon

As served in work.



Cure mix.



You may be relieved to know that after the last post I took a deep breath, counted to ten and was fully ready to shake off that week and start anew with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Then that crowd up North had their mid-term which was immediately followed by our own national one, creating a proverbial DP of chaos. 'Well sure isn't it good that you're busy' you might say. Only for me to reply that yes, it is good that in the middle of February we're packing them in like Tom Cruise in a fudge factory, but when the result is me being unable to take a break throughout the duration (which in turn meant 24 hours between meals, five days in a row) that smile has now become a firm grimace sitting below two sunken eyes. And the song has switched from 'Mr Blue Sky' to this and this.





Today is pancake day but I'm not posting anything related. My bad, but were it not for a Facebook post from my house mate saying, 'Here, gay lad. Yer makin me pancakes today. I'm finished at half 5.' I wouldn't have bothered. Instead, you get a post about the process of curing fish. I know, but that's life and life has it's disappointments. Take it from someone who owns the Noma cookbook.



Packing on the cure.



This dish came about from no other influence than me just being curious and wanting to try something out. Ten days later its goodbye to our deconstructed Prawn Cocktail and hello to Homemade Beetroot-cured Salmon. The process of curing is an ancient method of preserving meat and fish by coating in a salt/sugar mixture for a period of time. This draws out moisture, sterilises the meat and slows the oxidation process. It's also the process that creates Bacon, Salami, Chorizo and Parma Ham. (thank you Wilkipedia!) Over the years I began noticing the trend of coating fish with grated beetroot as it cured to 'stain' the meat and I knew it was one of those things that I had to try. So after some funny looks from Chef, I was granted a side of Salmon to try it out. Worked like gangbusters. It looks cool and tastes awesome. Rather than being just a colouring agent, the beetroot actually lends a sweet earthy-ness. Even the German was impressed and he calls Salmon, 'Za pig of za sea'. And while it may seem like an ordeal to make and you'll need to clear a pretty large space in your fridge, it's actually embarrassingly straightforward and also will last for well over a week and freezes fine.

Beetroot - Cured Salmon, serves lots

1 side of fresh Salmon, skin on

175g Caster sugar

135g Sea salt

2-3 tbsp of black peppercorns

1 decent sprig of rosemary or thyme or both

2-3 oranges

3-4 raw beetroot





48 hours later


1. Check the Salmon for bones.
2. Place the sugar, salt, peppercorns, herbs, the zest from all the oranges but the juice from only half of them in a food processor.
3. Blitz from approx 10-20 seconds.
4. Peel the beetroot and grate finely.
5. Lay a sheet of cling film over a shallow tray large enough for the fish.
6. Place the Salmon skin-side down, take the cure mix and pack onto the fish. You want to be sure that it's evenly and entirely covered.
7. Take the grated beetroot and do the same.
8. Place another sheet of cling film over the fish, put another tray on top. Weight down with tins, bags of flour, family pets or whatever you have to hand.
9. Leave in the fridge. Take out after 24 hours, you'll find that there's a load of water in the tray. This is normal, drain off and return to the fridge for another 24 hours.
10. Remove, drain and wash off the beetroot/cure mix. Pat dry and slice as thinly as possible.

Okay fine, mark this one for next year. Recipe taken from my DCS folder:

100g plain flour

30g caster sugar

60g butter, melted

2 eggs

pinch of salt

200ml milk

zest of two oranges

Using a stick blender, blend the flour, sugar, butter and eggs until smooth. Add the milk slowly while blending to prevent lumps. Stir in orange zest. When smooth let sit for a half hour at room temperature.

Heat a frying pan on a high heat. Fold up a piece of kitchen paper. Hold over a bottle of sunflower oil and turn upside down to damp the paper. Wipe this around the pan.

Think you can take it from here?

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Valentine’s Day: A retrospective from a professional perspective.



Best of the best: Seared scallops with tomato tartlet and basil vinaigrette.



Obviously I would have preferred to post this sooner, perhaps at a time when it may have had some kind of relevance. But given how this past week has been, this is the best I could do. A phrase that to my ex is pretty much a catchphrase. It was a tough week in the restaurant. Last Saturday’s (12th Feb) service was an endless slog. There are evenings in a kitchen that are relentless. The first docket comes in at five minutes after opening and the printer keeps on churning them out right up to last orders, four hours later. The kind of service where it feels like someone’s holding your head underwater and just as you think you’re about to get a moment to catch your breath it’s, ‘CLICK-SCREECH, CLICK-SCREECH, CLICK-SCREECH’ three more tables of two have just come in. The next day the guys and I were talking and nearly all of us said that when we finally got to bed and closed our eyes we could almost still hear the printer churning in the background. As for Monday (the 14th), that was an interesting one.

We’re a hotel so regards to the restaurant nearly 90% of our customers are guests that are staying. So given the day the hotel was pretty quiet. On Sunday night the bookings for the next night were just eight. Around lunchtime on Monday that was up to eighteen. We laughed and joked, ‘Tough one tonight lads, haha!’ Five minutes to opening we’d gained twenty-five bookings. Hmm, we thought. So a bit busier then we expected, nothing to panic about. Then service began and about an hour in we noticed we had five-six tables in. There were main courses waiting on the pass and I had starters and deserts awaiting pick-up. This would be fine were it not that there was not a waiter to be found. On this night there were about four-five wait staff on, which to my mind would be enough if we were expecting over eighty, so where the fuck were they? ‘Anna, Sarah, Davie, you have mains for tables 21, 33 and 4.’ Would be barked when occasionally one would rush into the kitchen, and with a panicked look, grab a bottle of mineral water or some more bread for a table and rush back out again. Turns out reservations had the bright idea to clump nearly all the table into the space of an hour and half. All those people arriving at once did not fit our server’s standard protocol of total ass-kissery. Meaning they actually had to work quickly instead of listening to the entire family history of table 12 in the hope they’d be rewarded with an extra two quid with the service charge. Did we in the kitchen sympathize? Did we feck! I was working through a block of about two two’s and a four top. I had it laid out and getting ready so I was going to get it out in time. The German then entered my station, looked at the dockets and started to assist with the plating. ‘Actually dude I’m fine here, seriously.’ He shakes his head. ‘I know but vee shoot this out as quick as vee can. If they’re going to give us eight tables at once, they need to pick up eight tables at once.’ He then nodded to the lone waiter polishing a glass as the fish for table 8 overcooks under the hot lamps and lowered his voice, ‘So I vant to fuck zem.’ And if that seems a bit harsh and unnecessary all I can say is, you should see him at Christmas. Final count at the end of the night was sixty-eight covers



Location: Weedsville. Population: You!



Overall food-wise it meant putting some new things on the menu. My favorite is pictured top: Seared scallops with tomato tartlet, rocket and basil vinaigrette. Half some cherry tomatoes, marinade in thyme, oil, salt and pepper. Butter a dish and arrange five-seven halves face down. Place a disk of puff pastry over them like you would for a tart tatin and bake. The vinaigrette is just chopped basil blitzed with lemon juice and zest, garlic and oil drained from sun-dried tomatoes. Sear scallops for about one – one and a half minutes on each side. Serve as above, caviar optional. By the way that dish pictured was just a mock-up, hence why the tart’s gotta little char on it. The dish itself was light, fresh and in my opinion probably the best starter we’ve had. The tart on its own was a winner. So much so that this Saturday gone we ran it as a vegetarian special. We simply replaced the scallops and caviar with parmesan shavings and pine nuts. Despite the berating by the German sous that it didn’t look substantial enough (‘Zere is no fucking vay I vould pay nine quid for that!’) But the customers thought it was ace. So for not the first I get to say to my boss, in your face Hans! Now that the only contribution I can make at this point involving food is done. You may now leave and go about your evening. If you want to stick around however, here’s my personal summing up of Valentine’s Day:

Valentine's Day, oh how I loathe thee. And I know that sounds bitter and dejected and even somewhat juvenile. But really when you think about it there's very few holidays in the entire year, that's celebrated by any other culture, that is as contrived and alienating as this Godforsaken mush-fest is. And I'm not just saying this because this year it was dinner for one (a frozen pizza, eaten at 00:10 am, after a ten hour shift) But even if I actually had plans, that didn't involve taking a sizeable chunk out of my monthly download limit, there's still something kinda messed up about the whole concept of this holiday. Let's get hypothetical; there are other holidays that are more geared to a specific people. Paddy's day means nothing to a Korean IT student and Thanksgiving passes by unnoticed over here. I mean I'm not being rude but I honestly don't know what date it's on, its November isn't it? But should I find myself at an American family’s dining table on that date then I would like to think I would be welcomed into the traditions and values that the holiday represents. Likewise if young Hyun-Ki (didn't make it up, it means 'wise') woke up in my flat on March 17th, I would equally bring him into the fold as to how this day is to be spent as I made him breakfast. Breakfast being two cans of Guinness consumed before 11am. Yet unless you've someone to share this day with, exactly how the fuck are you supposed to spend it? Apart from being reminded that, oh wait, you don't. I think this whole situation would be remedied if there was another holiday celebrated in and around the same time that could only be appreciated by singles. Something like, 'Knob-jokes and Beer Day' or 'Strip club Appreciation Week'. To sum up, think about it, you wouldn't have a holiday called, 'My two legs work just fine thank you.' and is spent skipping merrily past people in wheelchairs.

Last year did nothing to endear me to this day. I was in work, of course, and just as the tempo was starting to pick and up and things were beginning to get a bit tenser. The phone in the kitchen rang, it's for me. 'Alright man, how's things?' I sigh 'What is it?' it’s a commis, young lad not even 19 with a tendency to wreck the head. He has the night off and hasn't shut up the days previous about this young 'wan' he was going to be meeting up with. 'Just eh, what's the recipe for that chocolate mousse you were trying out the other day?' 'I dunno dude, I don't have the exact measurements with me and we're kinda starting to get busy here and. . . ' 'Any chance you could just give it to me just like, off the top of your head' he then lowers his voice to a secretive whisper, 'She's going to be over in an hour or so, is there any chance man?' I sigh wearily, 'Okay it's about this and that and this. You then take that and those makea a thing and add this and do that.' 'Sound man, cheers. Appreciate it man.' I hang up and return to the brewing shitstorm that’s begun to take shape. The next day he comes in and without word or reason just marches straight up to me and locks me into a sincere, almost brotherly, embrace. 'Mousse work then?' I ask. 'Aw man, wait till I tell ya.' 'You know, I really don't want to know.' 'I got the can of whipped cream and I sprayed it on her. . .' 'I SAID, I'm good with the details.' Because it's one thing to know that there are other people getting some when you aren't. But knowing that someone got their jollies on account of YOUR recipe. Well then, thank you world!

Not surprisingly when the whole deal came round I decided to forgo anything to do with it. As to post anything related, given my attitude, would be akin to requesting a dissertation on the virtues of modesty from Kanye West. So let the records show, that for the season of Valentine’s 2011, my contribution to the blogsphere was a 600 word rant and a curry recipe. Perhaps next year I’ll even it out with a flower arrangement, a recipe for chocolate fondant and in the text hide a link to a picture of a puppy wearing a red bow with the words, ‘Wuv U!’ stitched into it (the bow that is, not the puppy).

Spiced Rice and Pea Pilau

So at last, something actually relating to food: my first recipe. It's in the vein of what I was talking about here. This recipe was devised out of necessity rather than desire. It comes from opening the fridge and seeing sweet FA staring back at you. It’s an attempt of making something out of nothing, so in that respect I feel it kinda succeeds. It's quick, easy and it tastes alright to boot. Here I’ve used basmati rice, but could be done with other grains such as cous cous or make it a dhal by using lentils. Just adjust the cooking times.

This amount got me two bowlfuls, so would do two people for a quick dinner.

1 red onion

3 garlic cloves

2 tbsp vegetable oil

1 tsp coriander seeds

3 whole cloves

1 tsp fennel seeds

4-6 cardamom pods

1 tsp tomato puree

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp tumeric

1 tbsp gara masala 

½ tbsp chilli powder

1 cup of basmati rice

½ cup frozen peas

1 spring onion

Finely slice the onion and garlic

Fill a kettle with about half a litre of water and put on to boil.

Heat the oil on a high heat in a saucepan.

Add seeds and pods to hot oil. Sometimes I crush them first with the bottom of a mug to release the flavour, but this isn’t necessary.

Turn down the heat and let the seeds fry for about thirty seconds before adding the onion and garlic. Season with salt and pepper and sweat for a few minutes until slightly softened.

Add the ground spices, then the tomatoe puree. Stir well and cook out for a minute or two.

Add rice and cover with the boiled water. Bring to a simmer and leave to cook uncovered for about fifteen minutes. Stirring occasionally and topping up with water if needed. But not too much, the idea is that by the time the rice is cooked the water should be nearly all evaporated.

When rice is tender, taste and add more spices if needed. Turn off the heat and add the peas and sliced spring onion. Stir through and leave for a minute and so. The heat from the rice will be enough to defrost and cook and peas.

Spoon into serving bowl and eat.

Bad Eats

Let me just begin by saying something. Because you know, this is my first ‘real’ post and I think we should be honest with each other. And well, if we start hiding things at the start then there really is no hope for us. So what I feel I need to tell you is this; I eat really, really badly. Something which, I’m sure inspires you to no end. Now I’m not the traditional form of ‘bad eating’. Not the ‘America’s Biggest Loser’ or ‘You Are What You Eat’ bad eater, with a diet consisting mostly of beige. My problem is not that I eat bad things; it’s that I eat at bad times and when I do it’s often not nearly enough. It’s a curious result of laziness, adrenaline and exhaustion. All brought about by work. While most of you lucky (lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky) people enjoy the working day of 9-5. Mine is not so much. Mine has been seemingly custom made to ensure that any time I do have to eat I’m either not in the mood, too busy, or simply too wrecked to rustle up anything more imaginative then toast. Or a Crunch Corner.

            Let me explain. I work from 3-11 on a weekday and anything from 12-11 or 1-12 on a weekend. So I leave the bed post-morning and return to it late. Mainly because by the time I get back from work and have sufficiently wound down enough for sleep to become a possibility, it’s nudging the 3am mark. So when you come home from a 10 hour day to a house that has three sleeping housemates, all of which are up in the morning, there is simply nothing you want to do less than a) make noise, or b) anything that doesn’t involve making a bum-shaped dent in sofa cushion. Unfortunately cooking falls into both those categories. Which is why, during those life-draining, nerve-tearing busy weekends, the cooker top is left as pristine and untouched as a salad bar in Pizza Hut.

          As for breakfast, forget about it. That’s something that has defected from daily staple to something of a whimsical ideal. Like world peace. . . .or reversing climate change. On the outset it may seem like I’ve more then ample time to get something solid into me before work (that’s what she said!!) but really here’s what happens. I get up about 12-ish, shower and I spend a fleeting moment considering eating something before I head off to work. Then I think of work and in my mind’s eye I see that list I left last night. I think of what’s on it and the time I have to box off the tasks laid out by it. I then have one of those chills when I imagine what could be the result if they aren’t completed in time. I shudder and suddenly feel that omitting a bowl of muesli and a slice of toast from my morning is a small price to pay for getting a 20 min head start on the day ahead. I hurriedly dress and run to my car. Occasionally I do leave myself time to eat, pre-work. Only to find that my carton that says ‘milk’ can no longer be legally classified a such and the bread I bought on my last day off has turned green and is probably 13 hours away from becoming self-aware. Then I get into work and from then on the only opportunity for a break is a brief 15 minute window between 5 and 6. Sometimes there just isn’t the time, then that window will close and I’ll have worked through it. I’ll leave work that night having spent 10 hours on my feet without rest or food. It can and does happen that I go anywhere from 15-24 hours without what could be described as a proper meal. This is made all the more ironic by the fact that, for me, ‘work’ and ‘food’ are one and the same. So in case you haven’t worked it out by now, may I present to you the big third act reveal: I am a chef.

          And with that I feel any sympathy I’ve built up over these past few hundred words dissipate instantly. That and any nutritionists that were reading this are currently being placed in the recovery position as they lay on the kitchen floor, while puddles of spilt wheatgrass are being wiped from the kitchen table. Because, you might say, for me the task of making food that is edible is of no real challenge. Would coming home from work and spending 20 minutes on something as vital as feeding yourself really be that much of a stretch? Well you may have a point. But let me respond with this story my sous chef told me.

          One day his roommate asked him why he never cooked at home and instead relied on an endless supply of ready-meals. To which, my 6ft German boss replied, ‘You work on building sites. Would you go into the garden after work and start digging a fucking hole?’