Cook sister!

Le Pont de la Tour revisited - with bloggers!

If the picture has a vaguely familiar look about it... it's because it was taken just upstream from where I took a glorious picture the previous time I visited Le Pont de la Tour! But I really can't resist posting this one because one of the most fabulous things about the restaurant (and the reason for its name) is its riverside location, literally in the shadow of Tower Bridge. There can be few more impressive sights to treat visitors to, which is part of the reason why, when Andrew mentioned that Lara from Cook and Eat was coming to town at the end of last year, I suggested that we go to P de la T. 

I have written extensively elsewhere about my dinners at Le Pont de la Tour so I won't bore you with the background information again.  Suffice to say that I have a) always sat outside before and b) always been there on discount wine nights, when you pay off-license prices; and c) always had very happy dining experiences.  But with Murphy's Law being what it is, the night you recommend a place to friends (food bloggers at that!), things will go wrong.

For a start, we had to sit inside.  This was not really a function of the weather (from the picture you can see that it was a clear, still night, albeit a little chilly) because there are (evil, evil!) patio heaters on the terrace.  But it appears that they have chosen the winter season to do some renovations to the apartments upstairs, and the entire terrace area is covered with scaffolding.  So we were stuck inside, from where you really have no inkling of the glorious bridge outside.  Also, inside you are subjected to the bewildering repertoire of the pianist/vocalist.  I say bewildering, because some of the stuff she chose to sing suited her voice not one tiny bit and was frankly not what I want to eat dinner to (James Blunt, stand up and be counted). Add to this the fact that there are no soft furnishings in the brasserie to soak up the sound and you have yourself one very noisy room, which made conversation at a long table of seven rather difficult.  Also, the wonderful special offer whereby wines are sold at off-licence prices on Sun-Tues seemed to have come to an end, making the wine rather pricey.  But enough complaining - the company more than made up for these shortcomings:  Xochitl, Johanna, Lara, her husband Cam, Jenni, Andrew and of course, me.  As always, we had much to say to each other and it was lovely to meet Lara whose photos I so admire.

One of my favourite London bargains is the 3-course Menu du Marché for £14.95 in the brasserie section of the restaurant, so this is unsurprisingly what everyone had.  To start with, I had a salad of pumpkin, rocket/aragula and pecorino, topped with a balsamic drizzle and raisins.  I am a big fan of sweet-savoury salads so the sweetness of the raisins and pumpkin, enhanced with a little cinnamon, worked very well for me with the salty cheese and peppery leaves.  I do think that warming the butternut slightly would have improved the salad and a few toasted pinenuts for crunch would not go amiss.  But I was generally happy with my starter and have filed it under "to be imitated at home".  And it photographed rather nicely!

Up next, I chose the confit duck leg.  I am a total sucker for confit duck and if it's on the menu, it's very rare for any other dish even to get a second glance.  The only slightly off-putting thing was that it was served on roasted turnips - not exactly a classic pairing and I'm not the world's greatest turnip fan!  I do have to say that they were better than expected - innocuous and not making a scene.  And whatever odd note they introduced was more than compensated for by the rather glorious duck resting on them.  It was textbook confit duck - sinfully crispy skin hiding pull-apart-with-your-fork meat, and I loved it.  A classic dish properly executed.  Johanna (who was having a bad menu night!) had pan-fried cod with seafood sauce that looked more like a katsu curry sauce than anything else.  Underwhelming.  But Xochitl had more luck with her juicy chicken breast and rather spectacular potato gratin, which I would have stolen off her plate if her attention had wandered for more than two seconds ;-) 

And so, to dessert.  One of the long-term standbys on the brasserie dessert menu is their classic petit pot au chocolat, which I have had on at least three other occasions.  So this time I threw caution to the wind and decided to try something more seasonal - figs.  And thank heavens I did, as the gratin of fresh figs in an eau de vie sabayon was one of the nicer desserts I've had in ages.  The figs were grilled just long enough to soften but not to lose their shape and their sweetness played off beautifully against the alcoholic kick of the creamy sabayon.  It was light and lovely and I could have eaten a triple portion of it - definitely the culinary highlight of the evening for me!

As I mentioned, though, there were some issues with the seating and the noise, plus I knew Johanna was not that thrilled with her menu choices.  So as the person who had recommended the restaurant, I felt semi-responsible and kept panicking over whether people were having a good time.  When it's your recommendation and things aren't 100% perfect, you rather feel the need to keep reassuring people "it was better last time, that's why I recommended it", in a bid to stop them thinking that you clearly have no clue as to how to spot a good restaurant!  The low point in the service came when we were attempting to pay, splittng the bill on various credit cards.  Johanna was first to pay and after the waitress had repeatedly swiped her card, she handed it back to Johanna, saying curtly that there was obviously a problem with her card and Johanna had to contact her bank.  Anybody who has ever had a card malfunction in a public place knows what an unpleasant experience this is, hinting at your impending bankruptcy.  Then it was Xochitl's turn - different card, different bank and... the credit card terminal generated the same error message.  It was at this point that the waitress suddenly realised that the problem might be with her terminal, not the cards!!  After fetching another terminal, all the transactions went through without a problem.  This wasn't my gripe - it happens and equimpent malfunctions.  But it was the lack of apology and generally off-hand way that the matter was handled that left a bad impression. 

Reading over all my visits to Le Pont, I think the message that Mr Conran would do well to take note of is that he has a fabulous setting, a well-priced and generally excellent prix fixe menu - but his staff recruitment policy needs some work.  Pretty much all my gripes about this place have related to the staff!  If this were not part of one of London's more prestigious restaurant groups, the service issues might be forgivable, but the fact is, it is part of the mighty Conran empire and you know they can do better.  Or maybe all the best staff are poached for the more formal restaurant section as opposed to the brasserie?  Who knows.  Either way, don't let it put you off visiting - it's still one of London's best bargains.  Maybe just wait for the summertime so that you can sit on the terrace and enjoy the million dollar view for the price of a £14.95 dinner!

Food: 8/10
Service: 5/10
Ambience:  5/10 (indoors)
Value:  9/10

Le Pont de la Tour brasserie
The Butlers Wharf Building
36d Shad Thames
London
SE1 2YE

Tel: 020 7403 8403
Fax: 020 7940 1835

Honey mustard swordfish steaks

If I ever write a self-help book I already know what I'm going to call it:

"Clear your freezer - fix your life!"

There is something so deeply satisfying about clearing out those forgotten and unidentifiable bits under the frozen chicken thighs - and it doesn't even matter whether you make something delicious with them or just trash them - the deep satisfaction materialises in either event.  In fact, I'd even extend it to include fridges and cupboards - I just get a kick out of using up the dregs of things that I find lurking, or making a splashy dinner just because I found a splashy ingredient that I'd forgotten I had.  So using this yardstick, I was in a state of Zen-like bliss one night last week.

I got home from work, cold, tired and grumpy (hey, that's called London Life, I believe!) and immediately yanked open the freezer door, only to stand slack-jawed and uninspired in front of it, in a maneuver that my mom used to call "giving the penguins some fresh air".  What to cook that wasn't going to take all night?  Whole seabass?  Fussy and I can't be bothered.  Chicken stew?  Takes too long.  Crumbed fish and oven chips?  Too boring.  And then my eye alighted on a little wrapped white parcel.  It had been there for a while, lurking between the turkey mince and the ice cream, and I had a vague idea it was something Nick had bought on a solo shopping trip, but I could not immediately recall what it might be.  So I hauled it out and there was the half-price sticker (yup - definitely a Frugal Nick purchase!), and below that, the description:  2 swordfish steaks.  Mmmm. My mind started dreaming dreamy culinary dreams, recalling seafood dinners at The Islander in South Africa... and then I was jerked back to reality by a penguin tugging gently at my trouser leg with a flipper and saying "please shut the door - the Emperors are passing out from the heat!".

OK, maybe I made up that last bit.

But even with the freezer door shut I could still recall the moment of dreamy inspiration - so swordfish steaks it was to be!  While they were defrosting I had a quick look through my recipe books.  Nothing perfect but all sorts of ideas that could be adapted to suit what I had available.  And because the steaks were definitely going to be pan-fried, that freed up the oven for me to make sweet potato wedges - bonus!  So, into the roasting pan went the scrubbed and wedged sweet potatoes with a good glug of olive oil and some rosemary, destined for about 45 minutes in the oven at 180C.

Just a quick word about swordfish before dinner.  These impressive fish (Xiphias gladius)are migratory and roam across the globe.  They can grow to 4.5m in length and can weigh an astonishing 650kg!  Huge controversy rages about whether or not they are endangered (and that word itself is open to many interpretations and degrees of seriousness!!)  On the one hand we have bodies such as Active Angler reporting that they are endangered, or the IUCN reporting that they are threatened, while on the other hand the International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas (ICCAT) say the population isn't endangered.  And then to add fuel to the fire, we have FishScam and others who say that the whole PR campaign to discourage the eating of swordfish was one big publicity stunt by SeaWeb, who initiated the campaign. They used swordfish as a focus because they are majestic and easy to find support for, rather than because they are particularly endangered.  So I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to tell you tonight whether or not you should be eating swordfish - you'll have to make up your own mind.  But while you're deciding, you'd do well to take note of the fact that swordfish is one of the species that may contain more mercury than what the FDA think is good for you, so in either event it's probably not best for pregnant women or young children.  But seeing as I fall into neither category, I thought I'd take my chances ;-)

Like tuna, swordfish is very, very firm - it really is steak for non-meat-eaters.  So, it can do with some sort of marinade or basting sauce, otherwise it runs the risk of being really dry.  Also, be aware that it is one of the fishiest fish around - so if you or your guests are at all ambivalent about the taste of fish, serve something else!  And as with tuna, please please please don't overcook it!  You will only be left with a disappointing fishy piece of leather if you do.

HONEY-MUSTARD SWORDFISH STEAKS (for 2)

Ingredients

2 swordfish steaks
1 Tbsp clear honey (I used a rather robust chestnut honey)
1 Tbsp wholegrain mustard
enough EVVO to make a paste that's spreadable but won't slide off the steaks
lots of freshly coarse-ground black pepper

Method

Mix the honey, mustard and oil to make a paste.  Spread on both sides of the steak and leave to marinate for as long as you can. 

Pre-heat a cast-iron griddle pan, sprayed with a little olive oil.  Press the black pepper onto the one surface of the fish so that it sticks to the honey-mustard paste, then place the fish in the pan.  If your pan is hot enough, it should sizzle when the fish touches it. 

Depending on the thickness of the steak (mine were about 1.5cm), allow to cook for 2 minutes.  Then baste with the remaining paste, press on more black pepper and turn over.  Cook for another 90 seconds and then remove from the heat.  If you are worried that the fish is still raw, leave it on the griddle for a while longer - it will keep cooking gently.  Serve with roasted sweet potato wedges and steamed green beans tossed in basil pesto (as pictured).

And don't forget to leave a taste for the penguins ;-)

Cooksister: The Recipes

Here, for your convenience and viewing pleasure, is an index of all the recipes available on CookSister!  Some of the posts are quite long, but to get to the recipe just scroll right to the bottom if you want to skip the story.  I have arranged them according to course (starter, main, etc.) and broadly into fish, meat or vegetables, as well as separate categories for breakfasts, soups and baked goods.  If I'm feeling very energetic I may later also classify them according to main ingredient (when I have spare time, hahaha!).  I have also put a permanent link to this index the navigation bar at the top of this blog, to make browsing and finding recipes on Cooksister even easy-peasier.  Bon appetit!

MAIN COURSE - meat

Beef & Guinness individual pot pies

Beef & Guinness stew

Blindevinken (beef olives) braised in Grimbergen beer

Bobotie (South African spiced mince)

Bunny chow (South African lamb curry in a bread bowl)

Butternut and boerewors risotto

Chickpea and chorizo stew

Chilli con carne

Courgettes stuffed with mince

Gammon (smoked pork) steaks on cabbage, apple and onions

Gem squash stuffed with savoury mince

Glazed gammon with a whisky gravy

Lamb sosaties (lamb kebabs)

Lamb Stroganoff

Lancashire hotpot

Leg of lamb, slow-roast and spicy

Mutton (or lamb) rack, glazed with marmalade and Drambuie

Oxtail stew, twice-cooked

Pork chops with sherried mushrooms

Pork fillet (pork loin), mustard glazed and stuffed with apricots

Pork fillet (pork loin) stuffed with pear and sage on the barbecue

Pork medallions in a creamy chanterelle sauce

Sausage and bean casserole with herb dumplings

Sausage and fennel risotto

Venison pie with dried peaches (wildsvleispastei)

Zucchini stuffed with mince

MAIN COURSE - poultry

Butter and honey-roast chicken

Chicken a la King and again here

Chicken Biryani

Chicken breasts with tomato and chickpeas on couscous

Chicken, broccoli and mustard bake

Chicken jalfrezi curry

Curried chicken salad

Duck l'orange

Fennel, spice and cream chicken

Feta-filled chicken breasts wrapped in bacon

Nasi ayam nanas (Indonesian chicken & pineapple rice)

Roast duck with pancetta and potatoes

Sun-dried tomato, mozzarella and basil chicken breasts

Thai green chicken curry (easy)

MAIN COURSE - fish

Cod fillets with a pesto and almond crust

Fish pie

Gurnard, rolled and baked with a mustard cream sauce

Gesmoorde snoek (snoek in a tomato onion sauce)

Haddock and Parma ham parcels

Kingklip fillet with a crispy herb crust

Mackerel (whole) with an orange butter stuffing

Mahi-mahi parcels with sweet chilli, ginger and spring onion

Moules mariniere

Mussels in a green Thai curry broth

Pizza fish

Salmon Caesar salad

Salmon en croute

Salmon tournedos with spiced lentils, fig jam and foie gras

Salmon (whole) on the barbecue

Seabass (whole) stuffed with fennel and olives

Seafood paella

Smoked haddock with flageolet beans in a creamy mustard sauce

Snoek (whole) on the braai

Spicy salmon fillets with a fresh herb salsa

Spinach and feta cheese fish fillets

Swordfish steaks with a honey-mustard marinade

Tomato saffron fish stew with anchovy pesto

Tilapia baked whole with flat-leaf parsley and garlic

Tuna steaks with a red pepper and satsuma salsa

Trout with almonds and samphire

Yellowtail and aubergine "sandwiches"

MAIN COURSE - vegetarian

Butternut squash, feta cheese and rosemary quiche

Caprese bread and butter pudding

Cheesy vegetable quesadillas

Curly kale risotto

Eggplant parmesan

Mushroom, Mozzarella and chive omelettes

Mushroom Stroganoff

Paola's pasta primavera

Pea, feta cheese and basil frittata

Ratatouille bake with feta cheese

Roasted butternut and sage risotto

Sage and Parmesan gnocchi in a browned butter and chilli sauce

Scrambled egg, feta and olive pita pockets

Scrambled eggs with sun-dried tomatoes and Parmesan

Slow-roast tomato and zucchini pasta

Tabbouleh a la Cooksister

Three cheese fondue with champagne

Vegetable quesadillas

Wild garlic risotto

Yellow pepper tarte tatin

BRAAI (BARBECUE) AND SIDE DISHES

Beef fillet stuffed with smoked oysters on the braai

Braai sarmies

Cecil's lamb sosaties (lamb kebabs)

Chakalaka (Southern African barbecue relish)

Hasselback potatoes

Pork fillet stuffed with pear and sage on the barbecue

Potato & mushroom bake

Roasted butternut stuffed with spinach and feta

Roosterbrood/Roosterkoek (rolls on the barbecue)

Smoked chicken on the BBQ with a curried stuffing

Sticky BBQ chicken sundowners

Tomato onion relish ("train smash") and krummelpap

Vegetable potjiekos with a cheesy topping

Venison loin wrapped in bacon on the barbecue

Whole salmon on the barbecue

Whole snoek on the braai

PASTA

Bacon, chicken liver and sherry pasta sauce

Broad bean, bacon and mushroom pasta

Chicken, roasted butternut and feta lasagna

Chicken, sun-dried tomato and wholegrain mustard cream sauce

Chorizo and broad (fava) bean pasta

Creamy mushroom pesto sauce

Luxury mac 'n' cheese pots

Paola's pasta primavera

Prawn, mange tout and sake pasta sauce

Purple sprouting broccoli, anchovy and Pecorino pasta

Sage and Parmesan gnocchi in a browned butter and chilli sauce

Salmon tagliatelle

Slow-roast tomato and zucchini pasta

STARTERS AND CANAPES

Boerewors, peppadew & haloumi skewers

Broad bean, green bean & mozzarella salad

Broad bean and feta crostini

Celeriac soup shots with crispy bacon

Cheese olives

Cheese bites with chile or caraway

Chicken liver and cognac pate

Chickpea & paprika crostini

Feta and chive stuffed peppadews

Griddled halloumi cheese with caramelised fennel, shallots and flat-leaf parsley

Nectarines, roasted and wrapped in Prosciutto

Pissaladiere

Red pepper roly-poly skewers

Roasted aubergine dip

Scrambled egg and caviar toast rounds

Smoked salmon pate moulds

Smoked salmon-wrapped mackerel pate parcels

Smoked scallop and sea-trout pate

Smoked snoek pate

Sun-dried tomato pesto puff pastry twirls

Three cheese terrine

Tomato, basil and marinated feta skewers

Yellow pepper tarte tatin

VEGETABLES

Boereboontjies (peppery green beans with potato)

Broad beans with garlic, lemon juice and olive oil (foul mudammas)

Broad beans with Spanish ham (habas con jamon)

Brussels sprouts sauteed with shallots & garlic

Butternut squash bake

Butternut and beetroot roasted with rosemary

Cauliflower steaks

Clapshot (traditional Scottish potato and yellow turnip mash)

Corn, roasted with lime and chilli butter

Carrots roasted with cumin and caraway

Curly kale with wholegrain mustard

Curly kale sauteed with garlic and Parmesan

Gestoofde soetpatats (stewed sweet potatoes)

Green tomato & apple chutney

Hasselback potatoes

Mediterranean vegetable and cheese terrine

Jerusalem artichoke & potato gratin

Pak choi with peppadews

Potato & mushroom bake

Ratatouille bake with feta cheese

Roasted butternut squash stuffed with spinach and feta

Roasted corn with lime & chilli butter

Roasted green beans with red onion and almonds

Rozenhof creamy gem squash

Rumbledthumps (traditional Scottish mashed potato and cabbage)

Runner bean and feta cheese gratin

Samphire

Sauteed Brussels sprouts with shallots & garlic

Savoy cabbage, courgette and runner bean stir-fry

Sherried mushrooms

Slow-roasted tomatoes in olive oil

Spaghetti squash roasted with thyme and sage

Stuffed black mushrooms

Vegetable potjiekos with a cheesy topping

Yellow pepper tarte tatin

SALADS

Blackberry & Prosciutto salad

Brocolli and toasted seed salad

Broad bean, green bean & mozzarella salad

Butternut, feta and pinenut salad

Carpaccio of zucchini

Carrot & coriander salad

Celeriac remoulade

Char-grilled asparagus, zucchini, tomato and halloumi salad

Chickpea salad with tomatoes, basil and feta

Cilantro, cucumber and tomato salad

Cured ham and roast fig salad

Grilled salmon Caesar salad

Lentil, radish and flat-leaf parsley salad

Marinated mushrooms

Nasturtium leaf salad

Nectarine and coriander leaf salsa

Pomegranate, fennel, pear and rocket salad

Potato salad with apple and thyme

Roasted potato salad

Salade folle (salad with foie gras)

Salade Nicoise a la Cooksister

Seven-layer salad

Spinach, sun-dried tomato, feta and toasted seed salad

SOUPS

Butternut soup

Celeriac soup shots with crispy bacon

Chicken noodle soup

Cream of Jerusalem artichoke soup

Cream of mushroom soup

Cullen skink (Scottish smoked haddock and potato soup)

Leek & potato soup

Moroccan Harira

New England clam chowder

Red lentil & roasted red pepper soup

Roasted pumpkin soup with coconut milk and Thai spices

Roasted root vegetable soup

Runner bean soup

Smoked haddock and leek chowder

Smoked salmon and dill chowder

Tomato & marmalade soup

Warm avocado soup with biltong

BREAKFAST AND BRUNCH

Bacon, mushroom, zucchini and peppadew frittata

Bacon, spinach & feta quiche

Biltong, blue cheese and peppadew quiche

Broad bean, cheese and ham tart

Butternut squash, feta cheese and rosemary quiche

Featherbed eggs

Mirabelle and ginger jam

Roast gammon and caramelised shallot quiche

Pea, feta cheese and basil frittata

Pepper and mushroom frittata

Scrambled egg, feta and olive pita pockets

Scrambled eggs with sun-dried tomato and Parmesan

Smoked salmon eggs Benedict

Smoked salmon-wrapped mackerel pate parcels

DESSERTS

Apple and blackberry crisp

Apple caramel self-saucing pudding

Apricot clafoutis

Asynpoeding (vinegar pudding)

Baked Alaska with Cointreau and marmalade

Baked "volcanic" apples

Bar-One hot chocolate sauce

Best hot chocolate sauce in the world

Caramelised nectarines and cherries

Cherry clafoutis

Cherry dumplings (knedle wisniowe)

Cherry millefeuille

Cherry Pavlova "shots"

Chocolate, blackberry and almond torte

Cranberry and pear upside down cake

Cranberry ginger caramel pudding (self-saucing)

Dadelpoeding (Cape brandy pudding with dates)

Dark chocolate and orange pots

Dark chocolate mousse

Deep-fried Mars Bar

Don Pedro

Elderberry & nectarine crisp

Eton mess

Figs (roasted with balsamic vinegar) with pine nuts

Flourless chocolate cake

Ginger pannacotta with a lime syrup

Individual berry meringue pots

Individual dried apricot upside-down cakes

Individual chocolate fondant puddings

Individual strawberry crisps

Gingery baked nectarines

Lemon brulée, easy

Marmalade bread & butter pudding

Mini pistachio tarts

Nectarine & ginger tarte tatin

Passion fruit mini-pavlovas

Peach and cardamom clafoutis

Peppermint Crisp fridge tart

Raspberry meringue pots

Rhubarb, cranberry and ginger fool

Rhubarb crumble

Rhubarb & ginger clafoutis

Roasted strawberries

Rooibos tea, dried fruit and muesli "pie"

Souskluitjies (sweet cinnamon dumplings)

Spiced pear, apple & pistachio crisp

Spiced pear, blackberry and pistachio crisp

Spiced poached pears

Spicy plum crumble

Summer fruit terrine

Tiramisu

White chocolate and raspberry cheesecake

BAKED GOODS

Banana walnut muffins, low-fat

Black treacle scones

Blueberry muffins

Brown bread - quick and easy

Cherry plum (mirabelle) and coconut muffins

Chocolate crunchies

Chocolate oat and sesame cookies

Chocolate, prune and Armagnac cake

Cranberry, apple and bran muffins

Cranberry and pear upside down cake

Cranberry & pistachio choc chip cookies

Cranberry, orange and pecan nut muffins

Dark chocolate & fresh raspberry cupcakes

Double peanut butter cookies

Ham, cheese and paprika muffins

Lemon meringue "baked Alaska" petit fours

Lemon shortbread fingers

Mamma's scones

Melktert (milk tart)

Nigella's cherry Bakewell slices

Oat and cherry muffins

Pansyshell cookies

Peppadew and parmesan muffins

Raspberry and white chocolate cupcakes with raspberry buttercream frosting

South African soetkoekies (spiced wine cookies)

Spiced pumpkin (or butternut squash) muffins

Sweet potato muffins

Triple ginger cake

Zucchini, peppadew and feta cheese bread

SWEETS

Amarula cream truffles

Chocolate-caramel fudge truffles with fleur de sel

New York day 3 - the Empire State Building and beyond

See me walking down 5th Avenue
Walking cane here at my side
I take it everywhere I walk
I'm an Englishman South African in New York    -   apologies to Sting

After our glorious pizza at Luzzo's and a good night's sleep, we were up bright and early again on Monday so that we could beat the crowds at the Empire State Building - all we had heard were horror stories about how long the queues at the Empire State Building can get, and I certainly was not in the mood to queue all day! The uptown-bound express subway onto which we hurled ourselves deposited us in the vicinity of Penn Station – which is the first Manhattan station where I ever alighted! So there we were walking along the canyon-like streets of midtown and suddenly, there was the Empire State Building. It is a little like the surprise I always get in Paris when I see the Eiffel Tower for the first time on a particular visit, a moment that’s both surreal and wonderful. Made our way along pavements already crowded with New Yorkers trying to get somewhere in a hurry, and none too impressed when I stopped and hauled out a camera!  But on the other hand, the early morning light was great and how can you resist taking shots of an icon?

One of the things that struck me the first time I came to New York was how incredibly beautiful many of the buildings are when you start examining them in detail.  One of my most pleasant surprises on my last trip was without a doubt the foyer of the Empire State Building - it is a truly exuberant art deco extravaganza (pictured above) and quite unexpected.  After a brief gawp at the foyer we headed on up to the ticket sales desk on the second floor and discovered... amost no queue!  Hurrah!  After buying tickets, you are still herded through the roped-off zigzag that is obviously necessary when the crowds swell, but laughably complicated when (as in our case) you are almost the first people there.  To get to the top you walk through the labyrinthine lower floors of the building and finally arrive at the elevators.  These take you up to something like the 80th floor, from where you have to switch to another elevator to take you to the observation deck (or, if you are feeling gung ho, you can walk the final 6 floors and say with a reasonably straight face that you walked to the top of the Empire State Building!).  I always love that first moment when you step out on something tall and gasp at a) how high up you really are and b) how beautiful things look from up here - and this visit was no exception.  The crowds weren't too bad yet and so we could walk around with a reasonably unobstructed view in every direction - north towards Central Park, south towards Wall Street and the empty space left by the World Trade Centre towers, east towards the Chrysler Building and the East River, or west towards the Hudson River and New Jersey. After much staring, much photography and some gift-buying, we made our way to a different set of elevators which took us to the viewing platform right at the top of the tower (the highest point directly below the pointy metal spire).  It cost a silly amount to get there (almost double your original ticket) and it's a small, round room not unlike a lighthouse with a view very similar to the observation deck below - but I always say if you're going to visit a tall building you gotta get to the top.  And so we went - and became only the second visitors they had had that day!  This means that your viewing is far less disturbed than on the lower deck, although it is behind thick glass that makes photography almost impossible.  But at least we can say we've been ;-)

After spending probably about 45 minutes at the Empire State Building, we made our way down (through considerably larger crowds than when we arrived!) to street level again.  In the rush to get there early, we had abandoned breakfast and were by this time starving.  And what should we see across the road?  A Starbucks, of course!  I was still getting my calorie hit with a pumpkin spice latte, but this time I skipped the scone and went for a pupkin and sour cream muffin.  OMG.  The calories.  But oh, the taste...  That same wonderful gingerbread spice flavour, not too sweet, and with a big hit of gloopy sour cream in the centre.  It must be the kind of thing that haunts Nicole Richie's worst nightmares.   

After a brief refuelling stop at Starbucks, we walked a couple of blocks down to take a look at the wonderful Flatiron building.  This is one of the more iconic buildings in a city full of icons.  Completed in 1902, it is one of the oldest and best-loved skyscrapers in New York.  At the time it was built, it was revolutionary not only for its use of a steel skeleton (which allowed it to be built far taller than other contemporary construction methods would have allowed) but also for its unusual triangular shape.  It is also this shape (determined by the triangular plot at the intersection of 5th Avenue and Broadway) which gave the building its popular name, as it resembled the triangular clothes irons of that time.  Now over 100 years old, it remains an arresting site and coudl provide many happy hours of photography, should the inclination arise.  From there, we made our way uptown again, along Lexington Avenue, to my all-time favourite building:  the Chrysler building. 

What can I say - I adore the Chrysler building.  For a pile of steel, bricks and mortar, it is as eloquent an expression as possible of sheer exuberance.  I defy you to look at the Chrysler building and to resist smiling!  The building was constructed at the rate of about four floors per week and no workers were killed during constriction.  It was completed in 1929, amidst a heated competition to achieve the distinction of being the world's tallest structure.  The developers of no. 40 Wall Street had submitted plans for the completed building to be two feet taller than the Chrysler, but unbeknown to them, Chrysler architect William van Alen had secretly obtained permission to add a 125 foot spire to his building.  As the spire was being secretly constructed inside the building, this was not apparent to anybody until, on 23 October 1929, the gloriously are deco spire steel was triumphantly raised into view and the Chrysler building became the tallest structure in the world.  That is, until the Empire State Building overtook it less than a year after its completion...  But to me it remains the more beautiful of the two, with its iconic spire and its gigantic steel "gargoyles" on corners of the 62nd floor, modelled after Chrysler hood ornament eagles.  We also took a peek inside (you can only get as far as the ground floor lobby) and I highly recommend that any Art Deco fan does this - it is a lavishly decorated room with red Moroccan marble walls, and glorious Art Deco light fittings.

From there we walked across to Grand Central Station (or, more correctly, Grand Central Terminal as trains either stop or start there). This glorious Beaux-Arts building was constructed on the site of an older station between 1903 and 1913 As you approach it from 42nd Street, you are greeted by the glorious grand facade of corinthian columns topped by a 50-foot high grouping of sculptures depicting Mercury, Minerva and Hercules.  The clock in the centre of the grouping contains the world's largest example of Tiffany glass and the circumference of the face is 13 feet.  But the best part is the inside of the building - a gigantic main concourse with a vaulted ceiling painted to look like the night sky, with gilded stars.  The whole space is airy and light as sunlight pours in through the three huge windows at the end, and all you have to do is pick a corner and stand watching New Yorkers hurrying about their business.  Free entertainment!  There is a clock (visible in my photo in the middle, about a third from the bottom) on top of the information booth that has four faces, each consisting of a milky opal - the whole thing has been valued at somewhere between $10m and $20m!  (Astonishingly, the building was earmarked to be torn down in the 1960s, until city leaders including Jackie Kennedy campaigned on its behalf and it was declared a national monument.)  If you venture below the level of the main concourse, you will find a host of food outlets as well as a fresh food market, but the most famous restaurant there is without a doubt the Oyster Bar.  The space is larger than I expected and rather European - tucked into railway arches - and really beautiful, with fairy lights adorning the curve of each arch.  But at the same the space is not at all stuffy, filled with red and white checked tablecloths, and bustling with customers and staff.  Although we looked at the extensive and almost exclusively piscine menu, and I was sorely tempted to have a restorative half dozen oysters (from their selection of nearly 3 dozen different types!) with a glass of champagne, Nick was adamant that we shouldn't waste a sunny day in a subterranean restaurant.  And so we left Grand Central to continue our whirlwind tour of midtown Manhattan.

From there we continued our gradual journey up through the streets towards Times Square.  This is at the famously crooked intersection of Broadway and 7th Avenue and if you are expecting an actual square (along the lines of Trafalgar Square), be prepared for disappointment:  it's just an intersection!  But still, it's one of the places I'd always wanted to see, since reading about how New Yorkers gather there on New Year's Eve in their thousands to watch a giant Waterford crystall ball atop the 1 Times Square building drop and signal the start of the new year at midnight.  Up to 2 million people swamped the area to see in the new millenium! It was also famously seedy up until the late 1980s but former New York mayor Rudolph Giuliani's famous clean-up of Manhattan put paid to that - it's now a collection of multiplex theatres and big chain restaurants.  I can't say I'd recommend it, unless you are a rabid fan of Disneyfication...  Yes, there is still a lot of neon and you can see the giant ball, but apart from that all you see is tourists and tat for sale.  There's not even a frisson of the excitement and danger that Anthony Bourdain so eloquently describes in The Nasty Bits, just sanitised Corporate America-style shopping and entertainment venues.  Moving rapidly along.  Our meander finalyl brought us to the corner of 5th Avenue and Central Park South, where the Plaza Hotel stands guard over the southeast corner of Central Park.  The one thing I remember about Central Park from my last visit is that it is big.  Very Big.  If you are actually planning on exploring it properly, set aside the better part of a full day, and more if you plan to see the zoo.  However, we had no such aspirations - all I wanted to do was take a little walk, see some Autumn colour and grab a bite to eat.  The autumn colours were somewhat disappointing as there hadn't really been a cold snap yet, but the park was as impressive as I remembered it and impressively full of New Yorkers using it to run, walk, exercise their dogs, exercise themselves, read, meet friends, play with their children or ride in horse-drawn cabs.  Oops, no, those were just the tourists, not actual New Yorkers ;-)  After a lovely walk we ended up at The Boathouse - a building housing a coffee bar, formal restaurant and cafeteria-style restaurant.  Since we still wanted to do wome more walking, we decided to grab an informal bite and I was pleasantly surprised to find that your view from the "cheap seats" is pretty much the same as from the more expensive tables (the picture on the left was taken from our table).  The food is very reasonably priced considering where you are and comprises your usual cafeteria selection.  I think there may have been some warm dishes, as well as sandwiches, paninis and the like, but feeling a little vitamin-deprived I opted for a Cobb salad.  This was a Very Generous Bowl for $6.50 and the salad was lovely - full of good stuff like avocado, chicken, egg and the most succulent tomatoes I have had in a long time.  But the star of the show was undoubtedly Nick's ham and cheese wrap, over on your right.  It was GIGANTIC!  and completely stuffed to capacity with (you guessed it) ham and cheese and crispy lettuce.  Now if only London sandwich places could learn to make wraps like THIS!

After our rather late lunch we made our way a little further north and walked out of the park somewhere in the 80s (the streets, not the decade ;-)).  I wanted to show Nick Frank Lloyd Wright's truly gorgeous Guggenheim Museum but alas - it was undergoing restoration and was completely covered in scaffolding.  All my plans for beautiful black and white photographs of its snail-like spiral totally dashed!  Having reached the end of our capacity to walk for the meanwhile, we hopped on a bus to head back in the general direction of downtown.  Well, all I can say was that we had a place to sit - it wasn't as if we were moving any faster!  I do recall that traffic down 5th Avenue is something to behold and my memory served me well - kids on tricycles in the park were overtaking us.  Still, the endless bus ride did provide ample people-watching opportunities and when we finally hopped off near 57th Street we were somewhat refreshed. 

A friend had recommended sundowners at the New York Peninsula Hotel which has a roof terrace and seeing as we were in the neighbourhood we decided to give it a try.  Nothing like a restorative glass of wine on a rooftop terrace, I always say! On our walk there, though, we were inadvertently caught up in another iconic activity:  being shooed to one side by walkie-talkie-wielding people who were clearing an intersection for a shot in a new Will Smith movie.  Apparently the scene didn't feature Will himself but was being shot in the Hugo Boss store on 5th Avenue and inexplicably required the fire hydrants and drains to be concealed with fake grass.  Quite surreal!  Anyway, we finally arrived in the very plush foyer of the hotel (glad I had my silk scarf on!!) and made our way to the rather unimaginitively named Pen-Top terrace bar.  But hey, we weren't there for the name!  The view is really rather unusual because unlike the Empire State that towers over everything, you are kind of halfway up a forest of tall buildings, seeing people in offices more or less at eye level.  Plus you get a gorgeous view of the chippendale-top AT&T (now Sony) building as well as up and down 5th Avenue.  I had a rather fabulous glass of Esser Vineyards chardonnay from California (a "steal" at $14 per glass, hahaha!), and a place that provides a giant bowl of excellent salted nuts always gets my vote.

From there we took the subway home and, rather disappointingly, collapsed in an exhausted heap and made a few calls regarding the next leg of the trip.  By the time we were ready to have dinner, it was late and all the restaurants I wanted to go to were a long subway ride and a chily walk away.  So... I'm afraid we chickened out and returned to our "neighbourhood joint", Bubby's.  It's that kind of place - you just feel comfortable there and you know there will be something you like on the menu.  This time around Nick had a garlic burger and I had excellent spinach quesadillas but, sadly, still had no room for pie. 

Well, I guess Bubby's pie is as good a reason as any to start planning a return visit to New York!

Related posts:

New York, Day 2:  Luzzo's and the quest for the perfect pizza

New York, Day 2:  Lady Liberty and Katz's Deli

New York, Day 1:  Brooklyn Bridge and Bubby's Pie Company

Green & Black's dark chocolate mousse - SHF#27

Phew - the events are coming fast and think this month!  Just as soon as I'd finished my post on twice-cooked oxtail stew for Waiter, there's something in my... I had to race on to the next post and get my entry done for Sugar High Friday #27.  I must say, I did think for a moment of not participating but then two things changed my mind:

1.  The fact that SHF#27 is being hosted by the ever-fabulous David Lebovitz (and who can say no to him?!); and

2.  The slab of Green & Black's 70% cocoa chocolate lying on my kitchen counter, just waiting to be turned into something scrumptious. 

And so, while my stew was doing its second simmer on Saturday night, I set about deciding what to make.  The theme David has chosen is Chocolate by Brand:  make something using a particular brand of chocolate and then write about why you used it.  Now, as luck would have it, when I returned from my recent trip home to South Africa, I did not return empty-handed.  Somewhere in my straining luggage was a rather large hardcover book, slightly dog-eared and with scraps of paper bulging out here and there.  But despite its appearance it is definitely one of my my most treasured possession:  my mom's recipe index book.  When I was growing up, this book seemed to be the source of all good things, from chocolate fudge to peanut butter cookies to cheese olives.  I had developed a yearning over the past few months for ginger slices that my mom used to make, and the only place I knew I would find the recipe was in this book - so I laughed in the face of baggage weight restrictions and carried it back over here with me.

As I was paging through it last week, my eye alighted on one of the recipes that my mom had really made her own (together with her cheat's chicken liver pate and mild chicken curry):  her dark, decadent, boozy and dead easy chocolate mousse.  I remember guests at her dinner parties requesting this in advance, and going into raptures at the table.  I remember people begging her for the recipe while she just laughed and said it was so simple they wouldn't believe her.  And mostly I rememebr licking the bowl when she was making it ;-)

Interestingly enough, her handwritten recipe actually calls for a particular brand of chocolate:  Cadbury's Bournville.  Don't laugh.  Remember - this was the southern tip of Africa, 30 years ago.  Fair-trade-gourmet-80%-cocoa-solids chocolate bars hadn't even been invented!  In fact, at the time, I recall my friends beign slightly in awe of our ever-present slabs of dark chocolate.  In a world where everyone else was eating milk chocolate, my dad insisted on eating only Bourneville (which, I now discover, was one of the first mass-produced dark chocolates, first produced in 1908), or Nestle Albany, both of which were dark chocolate.  We have, however, come a long way since then:  from what I can glean off the 'net, despite being a lovely, deep, glossy colour, Bournville is made with a paltry 35% cocoa solids and contains a great big whack of sugar!  This is a far cry from today when dark chocolate typically contains 50-85% cocoa solids.  And as you will see, the fact that I haven't bought Bourneville since I left home and consequently did not use it in the mousse recipe, had a substantial impact on the finished product!

Since coming to England, I have discovered the joys of Green & Black's chocolate.  Everything of theirs that I have tried has been delicious - even the milk chocolate which is saying something!  The company was founded in 1991 and claims to have manufactured the world's first organic chocolate (their Mayan Gold was, in 1994, the first UK product certified with the Fairtrade mark), but don't let all this worthiness put you off.  The stuff tastes fantastic.  A really deep, dark, smoky cocoa taste that makes for a very satisfying sweet snack.  So on the rare occasion when I buy a slab of chocolate, I will usually buy either Green & Black's or Valrhona (and frankly, Green & Black's is a lot easier to get hold of!).  Which is how the abovementioned slab got to be waiting for me on my kitchen counter when I wandered in, chocolate mousse recipe in hand. 

The wrapper isn't pictured, but this particular bar is the 70% cocoa version.  Which is a lot different to Bourneville's 35%.  Make mental note.

Using my brand new Kenwood hand mixer (a little treat to myself after I lost the will to live whipping up egg-whites for my lemon meringue "baked Alaska" petits fours, and an interim measure until I can scrape together the budget for that empire red Kitchenaid...), I made the mousse according to my mom's recipe.  It was quite surreal, as if she'd just got in touch to give me her treasured recipe, in her own handwriting.  As she had always maintained, the recipe is childishly simple, consisting of nothing other than chocolate and eggs, and some liqueur for citrus flavouring.  I wasn't entirely sure of how much chocolate to use as her recipe says "12 blocks of Bourneville chocolate" - not much help when you don't know how big the slab & blocks were, or how they compare to Green & Black's blocks! 

The final result was pretty much exactly as I remembered it:  dark, rich and with a slight citrus kick, but quite light in texture.  I also figured out that what I always though were chunks of undossolved chocolate (my favourite bits) are in fact little chunks created when the chocolate and egg yolks are mixed.  Probably shocking to a mousse texture conoisseur but rather yummy to me ;-) But there was one striking difference:  this mousse was considerably less sweet than the original version, and seeing as the recipe contains no sugar, this has to be down 100% to the chocolate used.  At first I thought that I had messed up the amount of chocolate by guesstimating about 15 blocks of a 100g G&B's slab - surely too little chocolate would lead to a not-too-sweet mousse as the egg dominated?  But now that I know quite how big the discrepancy in cocoal solids is between Bournville and G&B's, it all becomes clear.  Together with the (optional) slug of alcohol, using a less sweet chocolate makes this a very grown-up dessert indeed with a real bitter cocoa taste.  If you wanted something more toned-down and family friendly, you could always substitute another kind of chocolate.  Easy peasy! 

Thanks, David, for giving me an excuse to make this little reminder of childhood, and for getting me to think about how the ingredients were affecting the end product :)

DARK CHOCOLATE MOUSSE (serves 2)

Ingredients

2 large eggs, separated

about 70g dark chocolate, chopped (I have subsequently settled on about 35g of Bourneville and 35g of a high-cocoa chocolate as a good compromise - ed.)

12.5ml Cointreau or Grand Marinier (optional)

1/2 tsp of grated orange zest

Method

Chop or break the chocolate into chunks.  Melt the chocolate over a bowl of boiling water. 

Whip the egg whites until stiff peaks form.

When the chocolate is melted, remove from heat and allow to cool slightly.  Whisk together the egg yolks, liqueur and zest and mix into the quickly. (Note - if you don't work fast, the egg cools the chocolate down so much that it becomes almost solid and hard to mix.)  Fold in the egg whites and mix thoroughly, preferable with a wire whisk.  Pour into glass ramekins and chill until serving.  You can serve these with a dollop of thick cream.  For a choc-mint variation you can substitute the Cointreau with Creme de Menthe, and the orange zest with finely chopped fresh mint.   

Twice-cooked oxtail stew

Aaaaah, there's nothing to get the year off to a good start like a nice, new food blogging event! Particularly when it's something that you helped to conceive, on a little scrap of paper over a lovely meal with good friends. 

And how co-operative of the weather to turn foul and cold just in time to get me in the mood for cooking something warm and saucy and comforting to fit in with this month's theme of stews!

Isn't it funny how tastes change over the years?  When I was a kid and my mom announced that dinner was to be some sort of stew, I would groan and moan and lose all interest.  Stews were, well, boring!  Far better to have crumbed pork chops every night ;-)  It was totally inexplicable to me why my father's eyes would light up with joy when he heard we were having stew.  And to him, the King of All Stews was definitely oxtail stew.  In fact, oxtail stew holds the distinction of being the only dish i have ever seen my father order two portions of in a restaurant - this probably happened 25 years ago and I still remember it, which gives you an idea of how unusual this was!  So given my father's penchant for oxtail, it is hardly surprising that it is the stew I remember best from childhood.

At the time (we are talking the 1970s here), there was no "nose to tail eating" movement as there is today.  Cheap cuts of meat were just that - cheap and difficult.  There was no Fergus Henderson-style cachet to cooking them and they were very infrequent visitors on restaurant menus.  So I am still amazed at how regularly my mom cooked oxtail.  I suspect it had to do with the fact that she shared a flat with a dietician when she first got a job.  Money was tight and her flatmate taught her how to eat well on a budget - and oxtail was certainly a cheap and potentially delicious cut of meat.  Either that, or as a bone-obsessed radiographer, my mom could not resist the perfectly-shaped ox vertebrae that are left behind when the meat has been picked off ;-)

But it wasn't just in my family that oxtail was popular - most moms had a recipe for oxtail stew, and to this day, an oxtail potjiekos (say "poy-key-cause") is a treat that few can resist.  In fact, a potjiekos is ideally suited to oxtail as it is a day-long affair.  Literally translated as "pot food", this is a method of cooking where meat, vegetables and rice are simmered together over a fire in a traditional three-legged cast iron pot.  It originated when the Voortrekkers (Afrikaners who emigrated from the British-ruled Cape Colony in their ox-wagons in the 1840s and 50s) used to make camp each night on their trek into the interior of South Africa.  Dinner was whatever had been shot during the course of the day, together with whatever vegetables were available.  Each night, these were put in the pot and stewed until tender, with the larger bones being added to thicken the stew as their cartilage dissolved into gooey goodness.  These days, a potjiekos is a perfect excuse to spend five or six hours in the outdoors, sampling some fine local brew while pretending to pay close attention to a fire and a simmering pot.  And oxtail is the ideal meat for this because it can't really be overcooked (provided the liquid is topped up) and thus drinking time is maximised.  What more could a man want?!

The stew I made on Friday was a cobbled-together recipe that is drawn half from oxtail potjie recipes, and half from oxtail stew recipes.  Sadly, my mom never wrote down her exact recipe (she probably thought it was too basic to warrant recording!), but the one thing I remember vividly from her oxtail-cooking days was the fact that we never ate the stew on the night it was cooked.  As a child, this always struck me as silly.  I mean, why spend all that time cooking something... only to put it in the fridge and then cook something else for dinner??  But Mamma would always say "yes, we could eat it right now... but just think how much better it will be tomorrow!"  I just put it down to general parental weirdness at the time, but now I see her point - you get double the simmering time if you cook it twice, meaning that the flavours really have time to develop and the cartilage dissolves into glutinous heaven.  Served on rice or mashed potatoes, you would be hard-pressed to get a richer and more decadent-tasting stew at the (very reasonable) price.

I got my meat at Borough Market, at the stall across from the greengrocers with the singing cashier - the name totally escapes me now.  Anyway, they tie up their oxtail in such cute bundles that are flat and can fit easily into freezer drawers.  Bonus.  I have never seen oxtail at a supermarket in London, so you probably woudl have to try a specialist market or your friendly local butcher.  I can't recall the price now - maybe £5 for 8 chunks?  I remember it seemed pretty reasonable at the time, but then I bought it on the same day as an eye-wateringly expensive piece of beef fillet which would have made anything else seem cheap by comparison!  It is true, though, that you are paying for a lot of bone and not much meat, but because the meat is very fatty it is rich and goes quite far.  So without further ado, here is my recipe for twice-cooked oxtail stew, just like Mamma used to make.

TWICE-COOKED OXTAIL STEW (serves 3)

Ingredients:

1 large oxtail cut into about 9 joints (this should provide 3 substantial, 3 medium and 3 small joints)

1 large white onion, thickly sliced

60ml cooking oil

3 bay leaves

2 cloves garlic, chopped

2 large carrots, peeled and chopped into thick rounds

1 stick of celery, roughly chopped

3 whole cloves (or about a teaspoon of ground cloves)

juice of one lemon

a dash of Worcestershire sauce

30ml tomato paste

2 cups of beef stock or water

salt and freshly milled black pepper to taste

45ml brandy

Method

In a large heavy-bottomed frying pan, heat about 2/3 of the the oil then brown meat quickly over high heat together with the onion.  On another plate, start warming the rest of the oil in a large stew pot.  I started with the smaller pieces of meat and transfered them to a large stew pot when they were browned.  Add the carrots, celery, bay leaves, garlic, cloves, lemon juice, tomato paste, pepper and Worcestershire sauce. Add enough stock (or water) barely to cover the meat.  If you are using stock, you may want to go easy on the salt, but if you are using water the salt will be necessary.

Allow the oxtail to simmer with the lid on over low heat for about four hours.  By this time the liquid will have reduced but not by a great deal.  Remove from the heat, allow to cool, and if possible, put the whole pot in the fridge overnight.  The following day (or even the day after that), remove the pot from the fridge for about an hour to bring it towards room temperature.  Stir in the brandy and put back on the stove at low heat to bring it to the boil.  Allow to simmer for as long as you can - I gave mine another 3 and a half hours!  If desired, you can also add some potatoes about an hour before you want to serve, to make this a complete one-pot meal.  But I chose to leave out the potatoes and served mine on brown rice with steamed broccoli on the side. I also thickened the gravy slightly with thickening granules (less tricky than cornflour!), but that's a matter of personal preference.

The taste is hard to describe.  Imagine the richest beef stew you have ever tasted, and imagine pulling chunks of meat off the bone using only your fork as it's so tender. And then there's the unctuousness of the gravy...  Because the ratio of fat and cartilage to meat is quite high with oxtail, there is a lot of gelatinous goodness that cooks out, making the gravy quite thick and making the meat glisten in a particularly appealing way.  Because of all this, a little goes a long way and after only three joints each, Nick and I were quite content to push our plates aside and relax on the sofa with the last of the sublime bottle of 1995 Welgemeend Douelle.

[Check Andrew's site for the "Waiter, there's something in my..." round-up tomorrow!  And remember, I'm hosting next month's edition, so do check back here in the first week of Feb to see what the theme will be.]

Death by... chocolate? Sweets? Leftovers?

Have you ever opened a packet of cookies, intending to eat one... and before you know it you come to your senses lying on the sofa feeling vaguely ill and holding an empty packet?  Come on, you can tell us, we're all friends here... ;-)  Well, if you have then boy, do I have some artworks for you!!

Mexican artist Daniela Edburg has created a wonderful series of photographs, some satirising famous paintings, others recreating movie scenes, all involving somebody dying at the hands of a consumer product.  A woman is chased across a field by a giant candyfloss tornado.  One too many Lifesavers proved to be the undoing of another.  Saran wrap (clingfilm) attacks when one woman tries to wrap a teensy punnet of strawberries.  You get the picture.  Some of these form part of an exhibition currently on at the Kunsthaus Miami, called Bittersweet.

My favourite is, without a doubt, the picture above: Death by Oreos, a fabuous satire on Whistler's Mother, but coming a close second is Death by Tupperware (below) - something that every hoarder of leftovers should think about carefully!

To see more of Daniela's series, have a look at the article in The Morning News - there are about 10 available to view - or Kunsthaus Santa Fe website which has a couple of ones not featured in the previous article.

Thanks to Jill at Legacy Matters for alerting me to this.

Christmas cookie swap

So Christmas has been and gone, as has new year - and as much as I try to pretend I'm still on holiday, the harsh reality is that I am back at work, and it's high time I got back to regular blogging!  And what better way to do that than to finish off some unfinished business from last year and tell you about the London food bloggers' Christmas cookie swap.

Since Christmas is traditionally a time for baking (in fact, one of the Very Few Times that I actually get up off my butt and bake!), we decided that this would be the perfect time for a bunch of bloggers to get together and exchange their Christmas cookies while imbibing a lot of mulled wine.  It's not as if we need much encouragement to get together ;-)  And so, at the appointed time one Saturday in December, we all descended on Johanna's house: Jenni, Xochitl, Bonnie, Bill, Laura, our honorary non-blogger Sarah and, of course, me and Johanna.

Because man (and woman, and blogger) cannot live by cookies alone, Johanna had decided to precede the great Christmas cookie swap with a little Austrian winter food:  a raclette and a cheese fondue.  Although you are probably all familiar with cheese fondue, that wonderful combination of melty cheese, tangy kirsch (or beer or wine) and a little cornflour to bind it all into a delicious gooeyness into which you can dip bits of bread, raclette is less well known - at least in my neck of the woods!  Although we often used to have cheese fondue on a Friday night when I was a child, the first time I encountered raclette was outside Neal's Yard Dairy at Borough Market.  First foremost, raclette is a type of cheese - a semi-firm pressed cheese made from cow's milk and aged for 3-6 months.  It has a texture rather like Gouda but a tangier taste.  Since 2003 it has enjoyed AOC protection, meaning that only cheeses made in the traditional way, from local ingredients, in predefined areas (Valais, Savoie, Franche-Comte and Brittany) can be called raclette. 

The term raclette can also be a dish similar in principle to a cheese fondue, made (unsurprisingly) with raclette cheese.  This is said to have originated in the Valais canon of Switzerland when farmers took food along while moving cows from pasture to pasture.  Usually they had some cheese and some bread, and my a happy accident, a round of cheese was left by the fire, making it warm and gooey.  The farmers so enjoyed scraping the melted cheese onto their bread that this became a tradition - voila!  The dish later developed to comprise melted cheese on boiled potatoes, served with cornichons or pickled onions, and this is the way that Neal's Yard Dairy serves it from their Borough shop.  Now, clearly, Johanna was not going to be building a fire and leaving rounds of expensive cheese lying around her suburban house (!), so it's a good thing there's an alternative way to enjoy your raclette at home:  the raclette grill.  You simply pop some raclette cheese, garnish of your choice (we had a lovely mushroom paste) and maybe a slice of meat (pancetta in this picture) into the adorable little raclette pans and pop them under the table-top grill.  The hardest thing is a) remembering to remove yours before it overcooks and b) taking your own pan, not somebody else's (sorry Sarah!!).  The cheesy, melty contents of the pan are then scraped onto some potatoes and eaten with cornichons on the side.  Heaven.

After rather a lot of cheese and mulled wine, we had a little rest before moving on to coffee and cookies - hurrah!  People realyl outdid themselves this year as all the cookies were delicious.  I don't think I got them all on film, but let's see if I can describe them correctly:

*  Johanna's mocha-choca beans drizzled with white chocolate (visible on the right of this picture);

*  Jenni's chocolate rounds sandwiched with dulce de leche and rolled in coconut (visible at the very top of the first picture);

*  Xochitl's Mexican wedding cookies with cranberries (visible as four white lozenges on the right in the top picture); lemon sugar cookies (dead centre in the second picture); and Christmassy ginger snaps (decorated with red Christmas trees in the top photo);

*  Bill's Bakewell-style fruit mince pies with homemade fruit mince (covered in slivered almonds and visible at the top of the second picture);

*  Bonnie's chocolate hazelnut cookies and fruit mince cookies (sadly, not pictured);

*  Laura's ginger spice drop cookies (visible at the bottom left and right of the second picture);

*  Sarah's double chocolate chip cookies (visible at about 10 o'clock in the top picture); and

*  my chocolate oat and sesame cookies (three visible at the bottom of the first picture) and double peanut butter cookies (visible at about 5 o'clock in the first picture).

Wow.  We quietly munched our way through A LOT of cookies that afternoon, making an effort to taste each one.  For my money (apart from my own cookies!), the favourites were Laura's spicy ginger cookies and Xochitl's crumbly Mexican wedding cookies, but let me assure you that I wouldn't turn up my nose at any of these ;-)  Of course the best part of the afternoon was right at the end, where we all grabbed our cookie tins and stocked up on each other's cookies, so that the memory of a lovely afternoon could linger for days and days as we munched happily on each other's cookies.  Now that's  the spirit of Christmas!

For the voyeurs among you, here is a pic of all of us around the table, contemplating the mountains of cheese we are about to consume.  From left we have Johanna, Sarah, Laura, Bill, Bonnie, Xochitl and Jenni.

[And for those of you who have been wondering what is happening with the Menu for Hope III campaign, we raised... $60,000!  Thank you VERY MUCH to everybody who contributed in any way whatsoever.  That is a truly awesome total and the foodblogging community can rightly be proud of themselves.]

Waiter, waiter, there's something in my... stew!

Well, I'm back!  A little more tanned, maybe a little heavier (!), but definitely more relaxed.  You could even say I'm ready to start the new year.  I resolved this year NOT to make New Year's resolutions (seeing as this only increases your sense of failure when it all comes crashing down on about 10 January ;-)), but on a very manageable scale I do want to try and get to work earlier and leave earlier so that I actually have an evening; I want to get round to cooking something out of each cookbook on my shelf; and I want to bake more.  There - not so much resolutions as statements of intent.

One commitment that I have made for 2007 is to launch (together with Johanna and Andrew) the brand new food blogging event Waiter, there's something in my...  And that event has just taken its first little baby steps in that Andrew has announced the first theme.  Stews!  I have to say that flying from the Southern hemisphere summer to the Northern hemisphere winter in the space of about 12 hours is probably the most depressing thing you can do.  All that darkness, all that cold... But the one thing that hugely softens the blow is the prospect of winter comfort eating, and for me that means stews. 

So whether you want to wow us with your Nonna's osso bucco, or your grand-mère's  cassoulet; maybe waterzooi is big in your neck of the woods, or maybe gumbo is more your style.  And if you're lucky enough to be in sunny South Africa, light the fire and get the potjiekos going.  But whatever you do, please do join us and post your favourite version of the humble stew by Monday 22 January.  Then send a link to your post to Andrew over at SpittoonExtra and sit back and wait for the roundup.

What's the collective noun for a bunch of stews?  I guess we'll find out after the 22nd ;-)