It is fair to say I like my food. I can pack a fair amount away if I am
enjoying it; whether that be a Chinese takeaway or my mother-in-law’s
tri-weekly Sunday lunch. I watch TV
shows about food, I read about food, I try to cook and I even partially plan
holidays around food (or did when I could afford holidays), indeed I spent my
honeymoon in China, mostly to visit somewhere I and my wife hadn't been to but
the possibility of eating Chinese food every day for two weeks did not dissuade
me at all.
I like most food. I
have just eaten a bowl of mussels, prawns and squid in a sweet chili
sauce. Very nice it was too. I realise that not everyone likes seafood but
I MOSTLY love it. Much as I like food
there are still certain things I don’t like.
I like seafood very much, the only thing I have tried so far that I
really didn’t enjoy was whelks; similar to jumbo winkles and chewy as heck; oversized bogies from a person with a mucus membrane infection. I have enjoyed oysters, rollmops, crab,
kippers, squid, scallops, smoked or poached salmon… most fish you can think of
really. One thing I haven’t tried and
probably never will… jellied eels. When
Manuel chides the chef in Fawlty Towers with “cockney stinking eel pie” I
relate to his sentiments entirely. I would
try eels and I can cope with jelly in a pork pie but together; ugh!
It is now another day (the words were not flowing freely last week) and the most recent meal I have cooked
was a fish pie that had in it cod, smoked haddock, salmon and king prawns as
well as yellow and green peppers and courgettes. In a gesture towards my weight the mash was made
not with butter but fish stock and garlic (usually we use vegetable stock but
we have run out!)
I watched Masterchef avidly this year. I don’t always catch it but this year I had a
favourite competitor that I wanted to win… and she did! Her name is Natalie Coleman, she was a chirpy
cockney and a bit of a raver by all accounts. Predictably some of the coverage after her win was about a woman making it in a man’s world… oh please, get over yourself. This is 2013, this boys against girls stuff really is so 20th Century.
Much as I like Masterchef and much as I like cooking I would never be
tempted to enter, no matter how good I became because I just know I couldn’t
hack the professional kitchen. Indeed,
you should hear the language that comes out of me when I’m trying to co-ordinate
a roast dinner. You’d think I was my
cousin Jason! I would like to be better technically
though and am exploring the possibility of some classes when I am eventually
free of debt.
Masterchef is by far not the only cookery programme I like
to watch. My favourites are probably The
Hairy Bikers.
There is something about
their personalities that makes up for the fact they are technically probably not the best of chefs on TV and
the travel aspect of their shows tend to be more human and involving than many
others. I have also enjoyed the works of
Jamie Oliver, Rick Stein, Gary Rhodes, Delia Smith, Sophie Grigson and Hugh
Fearnley Whittingstall.
The latter named Mr FW also falls in to the category of food
writer and I have enjoyed his written works.
This is a guy who cares about food; how it is produced and how it is
used. Like him I think it is important
that food is shown respect, especially if like me and Mr FW that involves
eating things that used to be alive. If
you are vegetarian or vegan, I am sorry if it offends you but I consider myself
an omnivore and I have no plans to stop eating meat and/or fish. But to give an animal a life of misery before
eating it, well, the hippy within me feels that not only is it ethically wrong
but it contaminates what we consume with bad vibes, man. Similarly some people sneer at organic
produce but if I could afford it all of my food would be organic and/or locally
sourced. The GM issue is not one I know
much about but to my ignorant mind the thought of tampering with the genetics
of something we are going to eat doesn’t seem like a good idea. I say I am against it but I really don’t know
enough about the issue (the other day I embarrassed myself by not knowing what
Monsanto is so thank you to Jessica O’Brien for pointing me in the right
direction on that one).
If you have children, I don’t, then the question is would you want something genetically modified in your child’s mouth. Sadly, that does kind of assume that all parents care about their children’s nutrition. I of course only know intelligent and caring parents but there are still those that would still serve their kids Turkey Twizzlers and act as if Jamie Oliver is a monster trying to deny them their human rights. There is no entrance exam for having kids.
Another food writer I have enjoyed the work of is Giles
Coren and not just because I have enjoyed exchanges with him on Twitter (he
described my rhubarb plant as “bolted like an old horse”). Giles Coren is the son of the late Alan Coren
who I somehow knew was on Call My Bluff
even though I don’t remember ever watching it.
He is the brother of Victoria who presents TVs trickiest quiz show (Only
Connect… getting a question right on this bugger really does give one a massive
sense of achievement) who is married to comedy actor, presenter and writer David
Mitchell who I respect hugely. I therefore
can’t help but feel that Giles, Victoria, David (Victoria and David, great name
for a couple!) and I would all be great friends if I had any form of talent within
me. I digress. I am currently re-reading Giles’ collection “How
to eat out” which I recommend very much.
He has a sometimes acerbic style but clearly does not have any huge conceits
about his own worth, I have seen him praise a sausage roll in the same manner some
writers would praise Powdered Anjou Pigeon.
I have also enjoyed his work with Sue Perkins on TV, both have a very
natural style to them and to this day they remain my favourite ever TV
partnership. If you feel that television
presenters should act with a certain amount of decorum then their shows may not
be for you but I loved them.
I have also enjoyed watching shows by Heston Blumethal. As a former holder of the best Restaurant in
the world trophy for The Fat Duck (fuck you everyone who pokes fun at British
cooking) he is clearly a unique talent in the culinary field but his TV work
tends to be more based on the sensational.
His 80s meal, Halloween feast and giant ice-cream cone all looked like great
fun, at least once edited to a television format. Again, I wish I could be just famous enough
to get invited to one of his dinners with my mates David Mitchell and Giles
Coren.
Finally, whilst I continue to name-drop (I’ve had a chat
with Mark Gatiss on Twitter too… about Dickens no less!) and moving away from
food, my mate TVs Chris Packham is on our screens again with the return of
Springwatch. I have enjoyed the work or
Mr Packham since I was a teenager and he presented The Really Wild Show and as
it became clear he liked the same kind of music as I do I became more
interested in his work. A mutual
fondness for The Jesus and Mary Chain is therefore responsible for any
knowledge I have about wildlife. My
reference to “my mate” is a running joke based on my once meeting Chris during a
talk he did for a local wild life charity, Brent Lodge. He signed a couple of his books (one that we
bought from him there and then) and was friendly enough for a Southampton
supporter. I don’t profess to know much
about Wildlife but I always try to catch Springwatch as often as I can. Chris has a little thing that he does each
series where he shoe-horns song titles by particular bands in his narrative;
this season it is The Clash. I know The
Clash a little but not well enough to pick up all of the references; unlike the
series where he did The Cure and The Smiths, I did very well then.
Springwatch is an important show I think; nature, wildlife,
farming and food are all connected. I
wish I was a better shopper and a better eater but financial restrictions do
mean I have to sometimes do things I’d rather not such as shopping at
Tesco. I hope to improve. This is why I got in such a strop last
weekend when I based my whole Saturday around the fact that I was going to the Farmer’s
Market in Emsworth but wifey had got the wrong week. Still, I got a couple of new shirts out of it.
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