My kitchen in France
Showing posts with label barbecue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label barbecue. Show all posts
Monday, May 25, 2009
Yey! Back to France!
...Well, only for 3 weeks (8th - 30th June), which will rush by, but I'm soooo looking forward to being back in my kitchen! Just the prospect of returning is making me all freshly inspired and enthused about cooking, concocting and just generally eating; homemade perfect pizzas cooked in my wood-fired oven, ridiculously rich homemade ice-creams, salads of lush home-grown or market produce and garden herbs, cool summer soups, scrambled village eggs, barbecued meat and fish and cephalopods and fruit and veg and breads, picnics and booze on the beach, croissants and pain au chocolat with coffee, steak tartare, fruits de mer, oozing little goat cheeses... and so on, and on... Ooh, and I'll make a strawberry tart with the wonderously juicy and fragrant local varieties that are in season! Actually, how the hell am I going to fit all of my French food fun into 3 weeks?
My kitchen in France
My kitchen in France
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Elderberry Wine and Friends, South-West France
Not really cuisine from the far corners of the planet, but definitely a gastronomic triumph, and some might find it adventurous...
My best mate Perry's been cosying up for autumn and having some culinary adventures in his own kitchen in France, with the help of wood-burners (yes, plural) and Unglum the cat (whose fave food is tomatoes, by the way). Italian heart stew, pizza dough flatbreads puffed up over a barbecue for kebabs, Moroccan meatball and egg stew, blood sausage omelet and freshly-collected oysters have been some of the mouth-watering delights on the menu over the last couple of weeks.
This is the elderberry wine the dude's been working on for two months, after collecting the berries in his garden. Perry carefully completed each stage exactly by the book, to avoid the risk of his precious potion turning to vinegar instead of alcohol. Success! It was all worth it. Now he has litres and litres of potent, fruity wine to get through. Lucky he's got good friends to help him out! See tasting notes below.
The beautiful results of weeks of careful work.
"It tastes really fruity, but not in a dodgy way, a bit like really weak ribena, but it smells wonderful. I think it should become amazing, because everything I've read says it should be undrinkable before Christmas at the earliest - maybe it's just my vin de table standards! It is certainly pretty strong even at this early stage - all I had was the glass in the picture and I really felt the effect strongly as you can probably tell from my email." - Perry Lancaster
My best mate Perry's been cosying up for autumn and having some culinary adventures in his own kitchen in France, with the help of wood-burners (yes, plural) and Unglum the cat (whose fave food is tomatoes, by the way). Italian heart stew, pizza dough flatbreads puffed up over a barbecue for kebabs, Moroccan meatball and egg stew, blood sausage omelet and freshly-collected oysters have been some of the mouth-watering delights on the menu over the last couple of weeks.
This is the elderberry wine the dude's been working on for two months, after collecting the berries in his garden. Perry carefully completed each stage exactly by the book, to avoid the risk of his precious potion turning to vinegar instead of alcohol. Success! It was all worth it. Now he has litres and litres of potent, fruity wine to get through. Lucky he's got good friends to help him out! See tasting notes below.
The beautiful results of weeks of careful work."It tastes really fruity, but not in a dodgy way, a bit like really weak ribena, but it smells wonderful. I think it should become amazing, because everything I've read says it should be undrinkable before Christmas at the earliest - maybe it's just my vin de table standards! It is certainly pretty strong even at this early stage - all I had was the glass in the picture and I really felt the effect strongly as you can probably tell from my email." - Perry Lancaster
Friday, October 05, 2007
Fishing Villages; Friction in Freetown - 1st September 2007
Fishing Villages
It was the first day of my last weekend in Sierra Leone, and we headed off down the coast again, but this time taking the much longer route on a new road. We were aiming for Kent beach, with the idea of perhaps getting a canoe over to the Banana Islands.
We stopped off at Mama Beach, and experienced the typical African fishing village in full swing. Everyone was on the beach, hauling huge baskets of wonderful-looking sardines out of the boats, through the surf to wash them, and up onto the beach to sell. Further along the beach, a team of people were pulling in nets with a varied catch of fish and crustaceans. Mama Beach has the softest, finest sand I have ever felt between my toes.
We wanted to buy some sardines for lunch, and I was up for building a fire to cook them - we still had Mabinti’s limes in the car. But in the end we decided to keep going to Kent, and see if we could find a restaurant selling sardines and Star.
Both the restaurants at Kent were closed, due to it being low season, but a deal was made with some local lads - all fishermen – and they went off to get the necessaries to provide us with a meal. Sardines were not available. An hour (and a Star) later, we were given our plates of ultra-fresh white fish (Groupa? Forgot to ask because I was so keen to tuck in), which had been barbecued near us on the beach, and was served with tomatoey rice and a kind of freshly cooked onion and tomato chutney sauce. We drank cold Stars and sat on the rocks to eat our scrumptious lunch.
The sea was looking a bit rough for a boat trip, so we postponed the idea of the Banana Islands until the next day.
We couldn't continue round on the new road, because we got to the end of the road. Literally. So we turned back and went the long, smooth way back to Freetown.
Friction in Freetown
On the way back, we got caught up in some election aggravation in the centre of Freetown. The streets were chokka, and suddenly everyone started walking in the same direction. Stuck in the traffic, we wound up our windows, and locked the doors, while soldiers and police (men and women) started to dash up the street wielding guns and shouting. Trucks of riot police arrived. You just can’t tell what will happen in that kind of situation, and I felt nervous seeing guns waved around. It got slightly scary when we finally got out of the gridlock, because my dad got lost, ending up in a different part of town than he expected. After ducking down alleys and roads in a labyrinth of one-way streets, we finally found ourselves on the road to Lumley and safety.
Back at the hotel, we went to the poolside bar again. The laughing barman wasn’t there, but his colleague was a nice bloke anyway, and I got another offer of a Sierra Leone mix CD. We had a quiet supper at the hotel, of bonita fish, chips, salad and Star.
It was the first day of my last weekend in Sierra Leone, and we headed off down the coast again, but this time taking the much longer route on a new road. We were aiming for Kent beach, with the idea of perhaps getting a canoe over to the Banana Islands.
We stopped off at Mama Beach, and experienced the typical African fishing village in full swing. Everyone was on the beach, hauling huge baskets of wonderful-looking sardines out of the boats, through the surf to wash them, and up onto the beach to sell. Further along the beach, a team of people were pulling in nets with a varied catch of fish and crustaceans. Mama Beach has the softest, finest sand I have ever felt between my toes.
We wanted to buy some sardines for lunch, and I was up for building a fire to cook them - we still had Mabinti’s limes in the car. But in the end we decided to keep going to Kent, and see if we could find a restaurant selling sardines and Star.
Both the restaurants at Kent were closed, due to it being low season, but a deal was made with some local lads - all fishermen – and they went off to get the necessaries to provide us with a meal. Sardines were not available. An hour (and a Star) later, we were given our plates of ultra-fresh white fish (Groupa? Forgot to ask because I was so keen to tuck in), which had been barbecued near us on the beach, and was served with tomatoey rice and a kind of freshly cooked onion and tomato chutney sauce. We drank cold Stars and sat on the rocks to eat our scrumptious lunch.
The sea was looking a bit rough for a boat trip, so we postponed the idea of the Banana Islands until the next day.
We couldn't continue round on the new road, because we got to the end of the road. Literally. So we turned back and went the long, smooth way back to Freetown.
Friction in Freetown
On the way back, we got caught up in some election aggravation in the centre of Freetown. The streets were chokka, and suddenly everyone started walking in the same direction. Stuck in the traffic, we wound up our windows, and locked the doors, while soldiers and police (men and women) started to dash up the street wielding guns and shouting. Trucks of riot police arrived. You just can’t tell what will happen in that kind of situation, and I felt nervous seeing guns waved around. It got slightly scary when we finally got out of the gridlock, because my dad got lost, ending up in a different part of town than he expected. After ducking down alleys and roads in a labyrinth of one-way streets, we finally found ourselves on the road to Lumley and safety.
Back at the hotel, we went to the poolside bar again. The laughing barman wasn’t there, but his colleague was a nice bloke anyway, and I got another offer of a Sierra Leone mix CD. We had a quiet supper at the hotel, of bonita fish, chips, salad and Star.
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