Break for the Border

Tonight it’s the turn of Tex Mex for the team. I can’t explain what I find strangely abhorrent about most Mexican food but it would be fair to say I’ve probably never had it anywhere near its best and so far I’ve never actually enjoyed it. And to be frank, re-fried beans – actually fried twice more than is acceptable in my mind. Ughh, and then it resembles, no I won’t say. All those of you who love re-fried beans may well be put off and those of us who deeply mistrust them know already what it looks like – and it’s not good!

I think some of my wariness is based on a very bizarre Christmas meal thirteen of us out went for at a brand- spanking-new Mexican restaurant when I first started working in the city. So new that we were the first customers and so new that the staff didn’t seem to know what the food was, where the toilets were and what on earth they were doing there. It was a terrible, terrible night on so many levels. So awful that they invited us back a month or so later when they’d got they act together. On the second visit some of our party managed to get extremely drunk and not notice that an extra zero had been ‘added’ to the bill and then spent a fun filled fortnight or two trying to get our money back. Hmmmm! And they had horrible mud coloured re-fried beans! I believe this restaurant is no more, clearly other people thought you could eat better else where, actually anywhere on earth could feed you with more talent!

Maybe it’s a bean thing with me, I don’t really like beans with the possible exception of green beans and broad beans. I guess I can cope with a haricot in a cassoulet, though my problem with haricots is their frequent proximity to tomatoes and clearly for me that is a pitfall. I also don’t like chilli beans though I don’t seem to have the same problem with jelly beans! I can vaguely recall playing a bean based game whilst a Girl Guide. This is a dim memory but I think it was an elaborate game of tag coupled with a exploration of the many varieties of beans. The tagger would shout out various beans and we would respond accordingly. For example, she yells out “jumping beans” and we’d jump, “frozen beans” and we’d shiver, “baked beans” and we’d mime sweltering, “French beans” and we’d reply “ooh, la, la!” and then “runner beans” and we’d all run away and try to avoid being tagged. If tagged you became the bean caller I think for the next round. I don’t remember anyone ever yelling out “haricot beans” as the ensuing mime would have been somewhat obscure. I don’t feel that this game resulted in a bean related trauma that still affects me today but it’s possible!

And here we are again at the spiritual home of the bean in a Tex Mex restaurant - On the Border and I’m trying not to be too suspicious. When we availed ourselves of the Mexico’s finest fare last year I made the heinous crime of ordering (prompted by DD of course) duck confit and garlic mash. It’s probably best not to relive that as it was the stuff of nightmares, but admittedly that was poor ordering in a Tex Mex restaurant! Today we start first with some platters of miscellaneous Mexican morsels. The hot chicken wings are rather feisty yet tasty so I stick with those – well if it ain’t broke… For the main meal we take to the tables and consult the menu which has helpful photographs of the potential delights on offer.

I’m never really sure about the ordering from pictures, it’s the culinary equivalent of buying from Argos and smacks of wondering around touristy cafés in Spain and Cyprus looking for some good food in places devoid of murderers. I am often biased against places with pictures maybe as many of the pictures look tired and strangely tinted which can be unappetizing. I want to read the delicious ingredients in the dish I am about to eat not necessarily wonder what that strange lump of something is lurking next to the main attraction.

But this menu looks much better than the Tex Mex hex we experienced last year so things are looking up, I go for the Bandera Sirloin – a centre-cut Choice sirloin topped with an avocado relish served with grilled vegetables and cheesy pepper Jack mashed potatoes. The steak was quite nice; it was well cooked and had a little kick from its Mexican makeover. The plate was certainly well packed if that's considered a good thing. The mash wasn’t entirely to my taste but a very fair job all round. As American J says – "low cost, high value" – hmmm enough said really!

Beware of the Rouge!

The ubiquitous rarely ever bought to fruition 'Plan A' for T and I was the rather lovely H Forman salmon and lobster fishcakes which I've waxed lyrically about on several occasions. Which such thoughts in mind was sallied forth to the largest Waitrose near T to attempt to secure ourselves some but thwarted her local Waitrose doesn't stock them (neither does mine or D's in Cambridge unfortunately, I think we may need to start a campaign!) So we swiftly moved on to 'Plan B' which was hunting down some brunch somewhere. We settled on a extremely American Caé Rouge, or so it seemed to me. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn't in a high street but a detached 'hut' next to a Drive-in golden arched place. And also the weather seemed unaccustomedly British (I know we never tire of moaning about our weather), it just seemed like we should have just left a freeway in Florida and found a little complex with a Motel 6 and a Denny's or something. But here we were in a little French place in North London craving a spot of Eggs Benedict or another delectable brunch dish. There's no beloved Eggs Benedict so I thought I'd not have a main dish and instead have two of the starters - a delicious sounding Crêpe D'Eglefin which is listed as a baked Brittany pancake with a creamy smoked haddock filling and some of their scrummy Chicken liver parfait, which is served with Roscoff onion & plum chutney with French bread. T plumped for one of her old favourites - a Brie and Spinach tart.
In the meantime they had a card promoting some fabulous sounding warm onion sharing bread and as two renowned haunters of gorgeous bread purveyors so we thought we really should try some. And it was extremely good indeed! But somewhat large! Maybe they thought we were going to share it around the other tables - but that was incredibly unlikely for a pair of bread monsters! Very sticky, unctuous and wonderful, and fortunate really considering what followed!
T was very happy with her regular Café Rouge treat - Brie and spinach tart. She's asked for no chips to darken her plate and an accompanying salad instead. Such self control!
I was looking forward to the crêpes as I'm a big fan of smoked haddock and the creamy sauce sounded good also. But lo, what is lurking beneath the tasty looking pancakes? Answer - an entirely unnecessary layer of tomato sauce. Now obviously most of the world don't join me in my dedicated tomato avoidance which is fine but for those of us who eschew in fact violently shun the dreaded red stuff it's not too much to ask for a mention on the menu. Tomato sauce it not something that can be picked off of left on the side of the plate. It seeps into everything and pervades all the other ingredients. And it's just horrible! It tried to delicately pick of the bits of the pancake that I considered edible, i.e. devoid of tomato sauce but it rose up and took the crêpes prisoner. So I left it.
Fortunately the liver parfait was buttery, smooth and very delicious so I just ate that instead. And it was hardly a problem, we had both inadvertently eaten our body weight in bread so it wasn't too bad a loss. But I was surprised that the fact I'd barely touched the dish wasn't even noted when the not so empty plates were removed. I did mention after we paid that I was unhappy that the inclusion of tomato was entirely left off the menu. I left it until the bill was settled so they could see I wasn't just trying to get a refund. Our waitress was polite but entirely didn't care whether I liked the food or whether I ate it or not. Hmmm! Well at least the bread was good!

Pie EATer

I popped into EAT (aka Excellence and Taste) today for a pie. I was tired, it was cold and very suitable pie weather. They had a new addition to the range – cauliflower cheese. I could see there was a tomato on top so I asked if there was tomato on the inside as well. The very kind EAT person ducked through a door marked private and consulted with some hidden pie guru returning to assure me that tomato wasn’t to darken my pie. Ah but it was! On returning to the office and turning the EAT pie box into a plate just as you’re encouraged to do I deftly removed the offending tomato from on top of my pie. But on sticking my fork in, I discovered that my tomato free cauliflower cheese pie had indeed been tainted with the evil red stuff. The only good thing is that tomato stands out well in all that pale creaminess and I was able to laboriously pick each tiny bit out. And despite this effort, this was a fine pie. I love cauliflower cheese and then in a pie also, my little Northern heart skipped a beat! All it needed was some mash!

A good idea at the time!

It’s New Year’s day and we have no hangovers to nurse so we head into town for a further foray into the sales. And we’ll pick up some yummy treats from M&S for tonight. But lo, M&S aren’t open and we have to resort to a very annoying large supermarket which is collectively our least favourite place to buy food but is shockingly local. No names - but you know who you are! And they may be open but they don’t have want we fancy, in desperation as they are announcing that they are closing we decide on an easy Italian feast - some garlic dough balls and some of the ‘finest’ fresh ravioli and fresh cheese sauce (as we have some left from the soufflé potatoes). And T has his favourite pizza.
Well this has got to be the finest example of style over content, everything looked good but that’s where it ended. The fresh ravioli contained Parma ham, mozzarella and ricotta - well that’s what it said on the packet because none of us could ascertain the flavour contained within. Even the dough balls which apparently contained garlic butter were extremely sub standard. And the ravioli? - words failed me! As I plated them up one burst open and this disc of pale pink something appeared. Alarm bells should have rung at that point. It looked a little like cheap sausage or very reminiscent of cat food (not the moist stuff with gravy) but the pâté like stuff. It was just really horrible and tasted like nothing else ever. Actually it was similar to some grey unidentifiable meat D and I consumed a few years ago - I won’t name the cook, but it was made with love so I’ll just leave it at that.
So that meal didn’t go well, it does beg the question that if this ravioli was supposedly the highest echelon of their ravioli range, what does the budget stuff taste like? I promise that I never intend to find out. I am so making my own pasta next time. I have to prove to MC that fresh ravioli can be really good. Actually I often make open ravioli so the pasta and the ‘filling’ can be cooked to perfection and then assembled attractively afterwards. And it tastes probably a million percent better than today’s meal!
We finished the meal with a PUDZ pudding. These are frozen preservative-free desserts. I plumped for my first taste of the Pudz Chocolate pudding. Not bad at all, the little 'lumps' are actually molten pieces of chocolate. The dessert was the only redeeming feature of this meal. I wish we’d just gone straight to pudding and threw all of the pasta in the bin instead of just most of it. Shameful!

I will not ever never eat a tomato!

One of my lovely Christmas presents from D, MC and LLcT was this Lola anti-tomato mug. There is a Charlie and Lola book called “I will not ever never eat a tomato” where I believe Lola eventually eats a tomato - so not a happy ending then! But I unlike Lola will probably will never be tempted to the dark side. Great mug though and will remind those who might attempt to foist the evil red stuff on me!

Good pie, bad pie!

After really enjoying Bigham’s “Indulgent Beef and Green Peppercorn” pie last week, I ordered the “Sumptuous Chicken and Red Wine” pie in my latest Ocado delivery. It seemed really good as on the Bigham’s website they described the ingredients as “fresh chicken, bacon & mushrooms in a rich red wine sauce with tarragon & Dijon mustard”. Which sounds fabulous, as I really like all those ingredients but imagine my horror when I realise that they hadn’t mentioned the stealth ingredient... tomato passata. Which I only became aware of after I’d cooked the pie. Now I appreciate that the whole world doesn’t feel exactly as I do when it comes to the evilness of tomatoes but why hide this? On the box tomato passata is listed third on the ingredients after chicken and mushrooms. But on the website the ingredients are only shown as chicken, bacon, mushrooms, rich red wine sauce, tarragon and Dijon mustard – no mention of tomatoes at all. I had actually tried to look at the packets in three different Waitrose but they were either out of stock of these pies or didn’t stock them yet but not because I thought they might contain mystery ingredients, I just wanted to check them out . The Ocado site also didn’t mention the inclusion of the dreaded tomato.
I was really disappointed as I was looking forward to a tasty pie and I could only eat the really nice pastry top and a small amount of the filling – and I hate wasting food.
I am not asking for a “Warning - contains tomato!” sign in big, red, bold writing (though it may be a good idea) but just a little transparency. Some of us just don’t like the things; please don’t make us eat them!


Postscript: I really feel I should mention that Bigham's have been so lovely about my so-called tomato trauma and deserve so much praise for such exemplary service.

The mash bites back!

Today I had the pleasure of experiencing one of the budget airlines so I could appreciate the true joy that is Stansted airport. It's not the airport per se that is the issue but more the whole setup and the compulsory excessive queuing. I had arrived very early (for me) and I didn't realise that you couldn't just check in, you had to stand around and then queue exactly 2 hours before the flight was due to take off. I decided that I might as well grab something to eat; as there isn't quite the selection of enticing boutiques I'm familiar with at Heathrow and selected O'Neill's as probably the best of a poor lot. You are supposed to secure a table and then order your food from the bar. This is a tricky operation for the lone traveller as securing a table means leaving your bags unattended in a crowded bar which at an airport means 'please remove my bags and dispose of in a controlled explosion'. Fortunately they were able to get me a waitress and I plumped for Sausages and Colcannon. I had meant to say "hold the gravy" but in the general excitement of securing a place to perch I forgot.

The gravy wasn't very good; it was too thick and scalding. In fact the abiding taste of the O'Neal's sausages and colcannon was burning flesh as the roof of my mouth was sacrificed to the great god of mash - Irish mash. I am afraid it wasn't a good exponent of the hearty Irish dish but the little I had sustained me until finer fare in France. Needless to say I didn't partake of any of the onboard offerings, as a) I had eaten enough at O'Neill's and I needed to leave my mouth to heal and b) due to unexplained circumstances, they had no hot food or sandwiches which I believe meant they had nothing more substantial than a packet of peanuts.

I sat and read my other new book, the rather wonderful Sudi Pigott's 'how to be a better foodie' and spent much of the flight nodding and 'uhu'ing. Clearly this book was written with me in mind! The first section is "how to be truly greedy without appearing so - and develop gustatory stamina", and the second is "the better foodie store cupboard - Prada for your larder." there's some fantastic stuff (though slightly tongue in cheek!) in this book and I do (rather anorak-ishly) have to agree with so much. I'm clearly a better foodie; well certainly pretty obsessed with all things epicurean! Though you may have spotted that already! The book is also rather fabulously decked out in pale pink and chocolate brown, it looks almost edible! It kept me very busy on the journey over to France and maybe whilst I'm here I can do a bit of Prada shopping for my larder. Well, when in France...

On arrival, there didn't seem to be a huge difference to the French countryside from the English until you looked closer. The patchwork fields are there but less green and more pale yellow almost white and brown though it's fair to say that all has been safely gathered in recently and what is left is either ploughed furrows or pale corn stubble.

La Rochelle is a dot of an airport, the KK of airports if you will. The plane next to us on the tarmac looked like it would be soon being piloted by the Red Baron! It wasn't long before we'd hit the road towards Vouvant.

The holiday starts here and the food definitely gets better!

Flying high with Virgin

Really the most exciting thing about finally getting on the flight (I know the English are supposed to like queuing, I think today we probably did enough to satisfy the most ardent queuer) was being able to finally reapply some lipstick and have a bottle of water. I know that may seem simple pleasures but the unfortunate but necessary extra current security when flying between the UK and the US means no liquids, creams, makeup, bottles of Evian etcetera and it was a relief to sit down and re-hydrate! As a child I could never eat on a flight, I found that I always felt nauseous at the first whiff of airline food. I discovered that it was mainly the cacophony of flavours that set me off, especially the unique flavour of milky coffee served from a vacuum flask. As soon as the first hint of coffee wafted towards me I would be unable to eat anything again until we’d landed. I eventually discovered that the best remedy was to eat a little of whatever was on offer and then I didn’t have to spend every flight with my head in a paper bag – a huge improvement!

I am fairly sure that airline food has improved over the years as well. The coffee certainly doesn’t seem to smell as foul. The only thing that generally gets me going now is when someone next to me has a Bloody Mary – it’s that tomato thing again! And on this flight, I could smell it’s distinctive odour from behind me (remember, tomatoes are evil!)

I wasn't too impressed by the cold pasta starter so ignored that but the hot pasta with chicken and a creamy sauce was okay. The beef being consumed by the man in the adjacent seat looked fine also but the highlight of the meal was the dessert. The dessert on flights can often be an ill judged affair and can often be smothered in an unnecessary mound of whipped cream that never looks great (at least to me) at the best of times but clearly has altitude problems. But this time, they have been redeemed; I had a little gü chocolate pot waiting for me, really the perfect size for the requisite chocolate injection! Well done Virgin, no whipped cream in sight.

Anti-Tomato League

Rotten tomatoes indeed!
Since announcing my thoughts on tomatoes - all bad nothing good, I have been contacted by fellow sufferers of the vegetable, fruit whatever the nasty little red thing is (actually the only thing I like about tomatoes is the colour!) It seems that feelings run strong when having to express the hatred of said red thing and I heard a heartfelt quote the other day by one of the characters from the US FBI TV show 'Without a Trace' ...

"As a kid, I was afraid of tomatoes, I just hated them! I hated the little gross seeds and the pulpy pulpiness! I hated everything about them and was always terrified they'd end up in my food."

- a girl after my own heart, I think!

And this got me pondering, do we need to form an underground society of tomato abhorrers, those who recoil in horror when sat next to someone on a plane slurping on a Bloody Mary or have to gingerly fish out the errant slices from a sandwich and stuff them into their serviette and then have to check really carefully in case some of the malicious little seeds have lingered - urghh (see, we really suffer!) or have to hope that the request of no tomato sauce on a pizza is met? When I first heard of the 1978 film ‘Attack of the Killer Tomatoes’; my first thought was – ‘it could happen!’ So before they do attack, I thought we could band together and arm ourselves but to my delight someone has got there before me and set up the website http://www.tomatoesareevil.com/

And they are organised, they have merchandise promoting a tomato free life and they have posters that educate the unfortunate believers! I’ve been saved!

No-odles

A client lunch beckons at Wagamamas. Not my favourite option considering my thoughts on noodles. I have enough of them wafting over from the flame haired H’s desk, slimy looking things with a very distinctive (and in my opinion) synthetic, nasty smell. I feel I have to do some research so I don’t go hungry or rush out of the restaurant screaming. After a glance at the Wagama website I opt for the mandarin, chicken and sesame seed salad. It sounds mostly harmless avoiding the twin evils of rice and noodles albeit rather dull. The duck in a dipping sauce (duck gyoza) sounds okay and does come recommended, I can’t see anything else that isn’t really me so dull chicken salad it is. I’ve had two lovely salads this week made by my own fair hands and somehow I think these will be the finest salads I eat this week. Well onward to new food experiences, this is what it is supposed to be about. H recommended a chicken ramen which is chicken and noodles in a thin broth. She declares is not really tasting of anything, which seems a rather odd recommendation. Bring on that bowl of hot slimy stuck that tastes of well, nothing. No, I don’t think so! It turns out that my initial reservations were right, it’s not an ideal place for a client lunch as it’s a little noisy. The salad was too soy and vinegary and also bland and boring. The duck was very nice though and if forced to visit Wagamama’s again, this is all I am having. The pineapple ice lolly for dessert was really refreshing also and took away that soy taste that I didn’t like. No sorry to all the bowls of noodles lovers, this is not making my top ten, not even top one hundred. Though never fear, I hope to have some fine food from the fire tonight!

It's supposed to be tomato free!

I have always believed that I can make a very tasty lasagne without resorting to tomatoes.
As in my mind, tomatoes are just entirely unnecessary! Maybe I would agree to a squeeze of tomato paste if forced but never, never those strange flaccid red lumps from a can. And I have been proved right. There were two fine recipes for lasagne in this month's delicious and apart from the obligatory squirt of tomato paste, they were tomato-less! Today I succumbed to a chicken and asparagus lasagne which also wasn't sullied by the evil red stuff. I have been vindicated!

Goat British Menu

Tonight was the first episode of the Great British Menu cook for the Queen's 80th birthday competition. And both Maichael Caines and the rather full of himself John Burton-Race cooked a starter with goats' cheese - why? It is not necessary! If I were the Queen, it would definitely be 'orff with his head!'