Summer’s here – even though today, looking out of the window, it certainly doesn’t appear that way. And yet only a couple of days ago I was flat on my back soaking up the glorious Lakeland sunshine. It was positively cracking flags (as we say round these parts). Heck, I even ditched the heavy kitchen […]Read more "Raspberry Delice"
I recently read an interview with the über-cool Ollie Dabbous. Ollie who? Exactly. Unless you’re a real food freak it’s more than likely that you’ve never heard that name before. And that’s no accident. This isn’t a guy you’re gonna see fucking around with omelettes on Saturday Kitchen. He has, I believe, one cookbook which was likely […]Read more "Dabbous"
Making bread is easy. Sure, the difference between producing a basic white loaf and some artisan work of beauty comes down to skills accumulated through years of experience. But a basic loaf is, nonetheless, a simple beast. Flour, yeast, water… and a bit of salt. That’s it. It’s a formula that is used the world […]Read more "The Lost Art of Breadmaking"
The specials board. It’s a wonderful thing. It allows a chef to test new dishes, to see how they sit with the customer. If they go down like hot cakes*, they go on the main menu; if they’re not so popular, they don’t – no harm done. It also allows a chef to minimise on […]Read more "What’s In A Name?"
Huddersfield. Or ‘Uddersfield, as the locals would ‘ave it. I’ve been working on the outskirts for the past couple of weeks, a little place just off the motorway where there is NOTHING GOING ON. Seriously. On the odd occasion I’ve ventured out into the West Yorkshire rain (it rains here a lot) I’ve driven around […]Read more "Boyz n’ the Hudd"
There’s a new coffee shop just opened in town. A great little place, just a few battered old Chesterfields, up-cycled wooden tables, and two walls fitted out with bookshelves stocked with any and every type of literature you can imagine. It’s coffee shop porn. Oh aye, and the coffee’s pretty sexy too. Browsing the other […]Read more "Godzilla-bub"
‘Fish finger sarnies’ – three little words to warm the soul. For any kid who was dragged up in the 90s this humble after-school starch-fest was the next best thing to a chippy tea: Captain Birdseye’s finest, smothered in orange breadcrumbs and baked, grilled, or fried at your discretion; surround with sliced white – butter optional, ketchup […]Read more "Return of the Mackerel"