For the very first post I put up here I wrote about the Star and Dove (that link may not work right now, I think they're re-doing their website), a local pub which does phenomenal food. Seriously, these guys are going to get popular once word gets out so book up while you can. I was treated to a meal there for my birthday a couple of months ago, but wanted to leave it a respectable amount of time before I posted a review.
The deal with the Star and Dove (the Dining Room, at least, the bar food is slightly different) is they take recipes from the 12th to 18th century and recreate them with modern techniques. It's quite an odd sense of disassociation when you order something spelt lyke thys, and end up with a very contemporary looking plate.
I'm going to put my cards on the table here. I love stuff that is made to look like other stuff. Love it. I know it's gimmicky, but God help me, they brought a candle to the table and lit it and told us it was the butter for our rolls. For reals. It even had little dribbles of wax down it. How am I supposed to deal with that? Because if it isn't 'clap your hands and giggle like a child' then I may have chosen the wrong option.
We got aperitifs too. I love it when there's aperitifs. It's a little extra free gift to make you feel like you're getting your money's worth. Ours was a take on the flavours of a Waldorf salad. A rich celery veloute, with a fresh pickled walnut, crumbled apple jelly (they clearly like their gelling agents here - this was a jelly that looked and felt like sand, but would melt in your mouth), and a crisp of filo pastry.
My starter was a soft, tangy fresh buffalo cheese that matched perfectly with chicory and truffle honeycomb, while Pete had... I don't even know what to call it. It was like a ball of fish stock wrapped in smoked haddock and bacon cream so when you cut into it it would ooze more fish. In his words, it was the fishiest fish that ever fish. Fish. I'm not a fan of fish myself, but he assures me that if you did like fish you would probably like this fish. Fish.
My main was Welsh salt duck breast, with a liver mousse in a crispy pancake. I was conflicted about ordering this, because I love duck but really don't get on with liver. I needn't have worried. Although powerful tasting, the mousse avoided that graininess of texture that I dislike, and really tasted more like a fierce blue cheese than anything. Pete had a Carpet bagger steak, which was fillet steak stuffed with goose liver and pate. As you can tell, they are really offally versatile (do you see what I did there? I'm very amusing).
Puddings were amazeballs. Pete doesn't even like puddings all that much, but I've still managed to convince him to go back a number of times just so we can have a cake or dessert in the bar downstairs. I had 'Beetroot Salad', which involved beetroot candied, jellied and crisped and served with chocolate ganache, while Pete had a clotted cream and brandy ice cream, shaped and dipped in an orange gel to make it look like an orange, and served with orange curd. Stuff that looks like stuff. Love it.
So well played, The Star and Dove. Well played. I shall return anon.
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
Friday, 26 April 2013
Playing with: Liquid Smoke
Sometimes I find an ingredient that intrigues me, and I start using it in loads of things even when I don't know how. I did it with tamarind paste (great with couscous, less so on toast), and now I'm doing it with liquid smoke.
Apparently it's been kicking around the States for ages but it's clearly not a big thing in the UK. Probably because our experience of barbecue flavour is less 'smoke' and more 'fire-lighter fluid and sooty rainwater'. Anyway, I heard about it off of that Food Network, and finally found some in Dr Burnorium's Hot Sauce Emporium. And I've been playing with it ever since.
Liquid smoke is basically water which has had smoke bubbled through it, so it's a really authentic smokey (Smokey? Smoky? Smokey.) taste. The main thing you need to know about it is you DO NOT NEED MUCH OF IT. Seriously. This shit is strong. If you want to be subtle you have to add it a drop at a time.
It's a nice addition to chilli con carne, and it's good at making vegetarian bean stews feel more substantial. An extremely basic but perfectly serviceable version would use:
1 drained can black-eyed beans
1 can chopped tomatoes
1 diced white onion
1 clove crushed garlic
pinch of salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp liquid smoke
1 tsp paprika
Cook everything on a low simmer for half an hour with the lid on, and a further 15-20 min with the lid off until it reduces to the right consistency.
That's what I would consider a traditional use of liquid smoke, but if you don't experiment you'll never find anything new. Yes, you'll make a few crimes against nature along the way, and the townspeople will no doubt curse your name as the 'Bringer of Abominations', but that's what being a scientist is all about. So here are some more counter-intuitive uses you could try. Be thankful I did the research so you didn't have to.
- Salted caramel sauce (add a TINY amount)
- Apple sauce (to go with pork, not puddings. Also, 'Pork not Puddings' would look good on a t-shirt)
- Chilli beef stir fry
- Mashed potato
I've also created my own barbecue sauce based around liquid smoke, but you could use this same recipe without it. This can be used as a sauce on it's own, or as a marinade for meat before it goes in the oven. You will need:
6 tbsp ketchup
1 tbsp black treacle (or 2 of dark muscavado sugar)
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon liquid smoke
Whisk everything together in a bowl until the treacle has dissolved, then check it's to your taste.
The sauce is quite thin which is perfect for a marinade, but if you want it thicker then heat it gently in a saucepan and whisk in 1 tsp cornflour dissolved in a drop of water. Stir until thick.
Once I made the sauce I stored some of it in a tomato:
And marinaded some chicken breasts in the rest.
After a couple of hours I griddled the chicken and served them with garlicy green beans and mash.
Liquid smoke then. I suspect it's going to be one of those things I use sparingly and when the mood strikes me rather than regularly. It hasn't changed my life, but this barbecue sauce really is a cracker.
Apparently it's been kicking around the States for ages but it's clearly not a big thing in the UK. Probably because our experience of barbecue flavour is less 'smoke' and more 'fire-lighter fluid and sooty rainwater'. Anyway, I heard about it off of that Food Network, and finally found some in Dr Burnorium's Hot Sauce Emporium. And I've been playing with it ever since.
Liquid smoke is basically water which has had smoke bubbled through it, so it's a really authentic smokey (Smokey? Smoky? Smokey.) taste. The main thing you need to know about it is you DO NOT NEED MUCH OF IT. Seriously. This shit is strong. If you want to be subtle you have to add it a drop at a time.
It's a nice addition to chilli con carne, and it's good at making vegetarian bean stews feel more substantial. An extremely basic but perfectly serviceable version would use:
1 drained can black-eyed beans
1 can chopped tomatoes
1 diced white onion
1 clove crushed garlic
pinch of salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp liquid smoke
1 tsp paprika
Cook everything on a low simmer for half an hour with the lid on, and a further 15-20 min with the lid off until it reduces to the right consistency.
That's what I would consider a traditional use of liquid smoke, but if you don't experiment you'll never find anything new. Yes, you'll make a few crimes against nature along the way, and the townspeople will no doubt curse your name as the 'Bringer of Abominations', but that's what being a scientist is all about. So here are some more counter-intuitive uses you could try. Be thankful I did the research so you didn't have to.
- Salted caramel sauce (add a TINY amount)
- Apple sauce (to go with pork, not puddings. Also, 'Pork not Puddings' would look good on a t-shirt)
- Chilli beef stir fry
- Mashed potato
I've also created my own barbecue sauce based around liquid smoke, but you could use this same recipe without it. This can be used as a sauce on it's own, or as a marinade for meat before it goes in the oven. You will need:
6 tbsp ketchup
1 tbsp black treacle (or 2 of dark muscavado sugar)
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon liquid smoke
Whisk everything together in a bowl until the treacle has dissolved, then check it's to your taste.
The sauce is quite thin which is perfect for a marinade, but if you want it thicker then heat it gently in a saucepan and whisk in 1 tsp cornflour dissolved in a drop of water. Stir until thick.
Once I made the sauce I stored some of it in a tomato:
And marinaded some chicken breasts in the rest.
After a couple of hours I griddled the chicken and served them with garlicy green beans and mash.
Liquid smoke then. I suspect it's going to be one of those things I use sparingly and when the mood strikes me rather than regularly. It hasn't changed my life, but this barbecue sauce really is a cracker.
Thursday, 28 March 2013
Cold Weather Salads
I have a complicated relationship with salads. I tend to associate them with someone making a statement. Usually it feels like that statement is 'I don't like real food', but I know that's a bit harsh. There's a whole weird moral dimension where eating a salad makes you 'good'. As in 'yeah, I don't give to charity and my hobbies include burglary and stabbing, but I'll have the salad cos I'm trying to be good'. Pffft. Whatevs.
I may have got distracted there. My point is that there are cultural expectations of what a salad should be, and tasty isn't one of them. But really aren't they just big bowls of whatever is in the fridge? And isn't that just the sort of cooking I go in for? So aren't I just getting up on my high horse for nothing? You don't have to answer that.
Since the gods are angry with us and have cursed us with an unending winter, I've been making specifically cold weather salads. They're big and hearty enough to be a proper meal, but messy enough to still technically be a salad, I guess.
Squash, Chickpea and Goats Cheese Salad
Nothing suits the cold weather so much as a bit of spice, and the squash and chickpeas are great spice-carriers so you can really push the boat out here. You will need:
1 butternut squash, or whatever type of squash you prefer
1 can of chick peas
1 log of goats cheese
1 large bunch of coriander
Lemon juice
Chilli oil
Cumin
Ginger
Paprika
Cinnammon
Salt and pepper
Mustard seeds
2 sausages (optional)
Slice the squash into pieces about 1cm thick, and either grill or griddle them in olive oil until soft. Reserve the seeds, and dry fry them with the mustard seeds.
Put the drained and washed chickpeas in a bowl. Add the chilli oil, chopped coriander, squash seeds, lemon juice, and the spices in whatever quantities you prefer (start with about 1/2 a teaspoon of each and go from there).
Spread the chickpeas on a plate. Mix the grilled squash in the dressing left behind from the chickpeas, and put that on too. Finally, spread little chunks of goats cheese over the whole thing. If you're particularly hungry, and/or have leftover sausages in the fridge, they won't go amiss here either.
This has a really lovely Moroccan feel to it. The squash itself is already quite fruity, but I imagine pomegranate seeds would push it in a lighter direction.
Pork croutons, blood orange and feta salad
Remember when I made that roast belly pork? And I said to keep the fat for all sorts of things? Well this is one of those things. Honestly, white bread fried in pig fat is a thing of beauty.
You will need:
Pork dripping (or some other sort of delicious fat)
Stale bread (I used half a stale baguette, but about 4 slices of regular bread will do)
1 bunch / packet of rocket
2 blood oranges (regular oranges will do)
1/2 packet of feta
This one requires much less fiddling than the squash salad. Just fry the bread, peel and chop the oranges and dice the feta, and mix everything together. You don't need a dressing as the juice from the oranges is plenty. Have I mentioned that I love blood oranges? It's a fruit that bleeds! I can't get enough of them, and they're in season* at the moment.
*'In season' means 'currently availble at the grocers'.
I'm really pleased with this salad. The croutons soak up some of the juice from the orange and brine from the feta which stops them being too greasy. If you're going to eat fried pig bread, this is the way to do it.
I may have got distracted there. My point is that there are cultural expectations of what a salad should be, and tasty isn't one of them. But really aren't they just big bowls of whatever is in the fridge? And isn't that just the sort of cooking I go in for? So aren't I just getting up on my high horse for nothing? You don't have to answer that.
Since the gods are angry with us and have cursed us with an unending winter, I've been making specifically cold weather salads. They're big and hearty enough to be a proper meal, but messy enough to still technically be a salad, I guess.
Squash, Chickpea and Goats Cheese Salad
Nothing suits the cold weather so much as a bit of spice, and the squash and chickpeas are great spice-carriers so you can really push the boat out here. You will need:
1 butternut squash, or whatever type of squash you prefer
1 can of chick peas
1 log of goats cheese
1 large bunch of coriander
Lemon juice
Chilli oil
Cumin
Ginger
Paprika
Cinnammon
Salt and pepper
Mustard seeds
2 sausages (optional)
Slice the squash into pieces about 1cm thick, and either grill or griddle them in olive oil until soft. Reserve the seeds, and dry fry them with the mustard seeds.
Put the drained and washed chickpeas in a bowl. Add the chilli oil, chopped coriander, squash seeds, lemon juice, and the spices in whatever quantities you prefer (start with about 1/2 a teaspoon of each and go from there).
Spread the chickpeas on a plate. Mix the grilled squash in the dressing left behind from the chickpeas, and put that on too. Finally, spread little chunks of goats cheese over the whole thing. If you're particularly hungry, and/or have leftover sausages in the fridge, they won't go amiss here either.
This has a really lovely Moroccan feel to it. The squash itself is already quite fruity, but I imagine pomegranate seeds would push it in a lighter direction.
Pork croutons, blood orange and feta salad
Remember when I made that roast belly pork? And I said to keep the fat for all sorts of things? Well this is one of those things. Honestly, white bread fried in pig fat is a thing of beauty.
You will need:
Pork dripping (or some other sort of delicious fat)
Stale bread (I used half a stale baguette, but about 4 slices of regular bread will do)
1 bunch / packet of rocket
2 blood oranges (regular oranges will do)
1/2 packet of feta
This one requires much less fiddling than the squash salad. Just fry the bread, peel and chop the oranges and dice the feta, and mix everything together. You don't need a dressing as the juice from the oranges is plenty. Have I mentioned that I love blood oranges? It's a fruit that bleeds! I can't get enough of them, and they're in season* at the moment.
*'In season' means 'currently availble at the grocers'.
I'm really pleased with this salad. The croutons soak up some of the juice from the orange and brine from the feta which stops them being too greasy. If you're going to eat fried pig bread, this is the way to do it.
Monday, 25 March 2013
Roast Pork with Apples and Onions
I really like the neighbourhood I live in. I'm just outside the centre of Bristol so I can walk into the city pretty easily, there are a few convenient shops close by, really decent pubs, and great places to eat. The one thing I haven't been able to find is a butcher. I was spoilt for meat - spoilt, I say - before I moved as I was really close to a proper fancy deli butcher, and I miss flirting a bit to get an extra couple of short ribs thrown in for free (Dear Pete - that never happened) (Dear Reader - that totally happened).
I still haven't found anything close by, but then there is a pub literally across the road from me, so you win some you lose some. I have, however, found another fancy little deli butcher in the city centre. It's called Source, and I like it.
They have a big focus on organic and rare breed meat so it's a bit pricey, but they've got a good range, and worth it for a treat. All their pork is Gloucester Old Spot, which I hadn't tried before but had heard good things about, so I got about 3 pounds of belly pork to roast.
Slow roast belly pork is really easy, but you've got to put the time in.
I used:
2 apples (Braeburn, if you're interested)
2 large onions
4 large potatoes
Lots of Belly pork
Salt
Dried rosemary
First of all I preheated the oven to as hot as it would go. This is to sear the skin and make sure you get crispy crackling. Score the skin of the pork and rub in the salt and rosemary. When the oven is hot enough, put the meat in a large roasting tray and pop in the oven for 20-30 minutes.
While the meat is in the oven, prep the veg. Peel the onions and potatoes, but leave the skin on the apples. Core the apple, and cut all the veg into large chunks. These are going to cook for a long time, so anything too small is just going to burn or melt away into nothingness.
After about half an hour, take the meat out of the oven and turn the temperature way down, about GM 2-3. Take the meat out of the tray, add the veg, and put the meat back in on top of the veg. This means the fat from the pork will drip down and baste the veg.
Put the whole tray back in the oven and leave for at least 2, preferably 3 hours.
When everything is done you should have really soft meat, crispy crackling, cooked onions and potatoes, with a meaty apple sauce. Remember to reserve the fat and any other brown bits for gravy.
The Gloucester Old Spot was delicious, and produced some of the best crackling I've ever made. The only thing is that it produces so much fat that the potatoes were more confit than crispy, so in future I might take those out of the tray a little early and let them just crisp up on their own separately.
REMEMBER TO KEEP THE DELICIOUS FAT FOR OTHER DELICIOUS PURPOSES. 'S really important. I got about half a pint out of this lot, and I could probably have used it to swim the Channel had I been so inclined.
I still haven't found anything close by, but then there is a pub literally across the road from me, so you win some you lose some. I have, however, found another fancy little deli butcher in the city centre. It's called Source, and I like it.
They have a big focus on organic and rare breed meat so it's a bit pricey, but they've got a good range, and worth it for a treat. All their pork is Gloucester Old Spot, which I hadn't tried before but had heard good things about, so I got about 3 pounds of belly pork to roast.
Slow roast belly pork is really easy, but you've got to put the time in.
I used:
2 apples (Braeburn, if you're interested)
2 large onions
4 large potatoes
Lots of Belly pork
Salt
Dried rosemary
First of all I preheated the oven to as hot as it would go. This is to sear the skin and make sure you get crispy crackling. Score the skin of the pork and rub in the salt and rosemary. When the oven is hot enough, put the meat in a large roasting tray and pop in the oven for 20-30 minutes.
While the meat is in the oven, prep the veg. Peel the onions and potatoes, but leave the skin on the apples. Core the apple, and cut all the veg into large chunks. These are going to cook for a long time, so anything too small is just going to burn or melt away into nothingness.
After about half an hour, take the meat out of the oven and turn the temperature way down, about GM 2-3. Take the meat out of the tray, add the veg, and put the meat back in on top of the veg. This means the fat from the pork will drip down and baste the veg.
Put the whole tray back in the oven and leave for at least 2, preferably 3 hours.
When everything is done you should have really soft meat, crispy crackling, cooked onions and potatoes, with a meaty apple sauce. Remember to reserve the fat and any other brown bits for gravy.
The Gloucester Old Spot was delicious, and produced some of the best crackling I've ever made. The only thing is that it produces so much fat that the potatoes were more confit than crispy, so in future I might take those out of the tray a little early and let them just crisp up on their own separately.
REMEMBER TO KEEP THE DELICIOUS FAT FOR OTHER DELICIOUS PURPOSES. 'S really important. I got about half a pint out of this lot, and I could probably have used it to swim the Channel had I been so inclined.
GBM Week 8
... Also known as 'The Taffy Bin Rake'.
What happened, guys? Wales used to do so well. I can't help but feel that these contestants were perhaps not the programme makers first choices. So the numbers were made up with a child and a cat lady.
Richard was a returning contestant. Decent enough, but not mind-blowing. He won. His competition was Luke, fresh from performing in his secondary school's production of 'Grease', and Mary-Anne, who looked like my thumb when I've spent too long in the bath. I wanted to like Mary-Anne. I really did. I usually have a distinct fondness for mad old bats, and certainly I warmed to her in the final when she was very generous with Richard. But in the main she was just insufferable. One of those people who are happy to be brash to the point of offense, but blow up at the slightest hint of criticism. Luke was sweet, but he was 12. I'm sure he'll do very well in future, and to be a head chef at his age is amazing. I'd happily eat at his restaurant. But seriously. 12.
Highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Mary-Anne
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Luke. Bless.
Moment of the Week - When someone (Richard I think?) called one of Mary-Anne's dishes 'good simple cooking', and she reacted like he had slapped her in the face.
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Richard's Chicken Salad starter with a fortune cookie in the egg.
Wild Card of the Week - Mary-Anne's upper lip. It droops into a point like the baby from 'Dinosaurs'.
Next week is the final and we can draw a line under this whole sorry episode.
What happened, guys? Wales used to do so well. I can't help but feel that these contestants were perhaps not the programme makers first choices. So the numbers were made up with a child and a cat lady.
Richard was a returning contestant. Decent enough, but not mind-blowing. He won. His competition was Luke, fresh from performing in his secondary school's production of 'Grease', and Mary-Anne, who looked like my thumb when I've spent too long in the bath. I wanted to like Mary-Anne. I really did. I usually have a distinct fondness for mad old bats, and certainly I warmed to her in the final when she was very generous with Richard. But in the main she was just insufferable. One of those people who are happy to be brash to the point of offense, but blow up at the slightest hint of criticism. Luke was sweet, but he was 12. I'm sure he'll do very well in future, and to be a head chef at his age is amazing. I'd happily eat at his restaurant. But seriously. 12.
Highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Mary-Anne
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Luke. Bless.
Moment of the Week - When someone (Richard I think?) called one of Mary-Anne's dishes 'good simple cooking', and she reacted like he had slapped her in the face.
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Richard's Chicken Salad starter with a fortune cookie in the egg.
Wild Card of the Week - Mary-Anne's upper lip. It droops into a point like the baby from 'Dinosaurs'.
Next week is the final and we can draw a line under this whole sorry episode.
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
Chicken and Leek pie filling
A few days ago, Pete and I were talking about how awesome I am (we do this a lot), and he mentioned that I had once made a really tasty chicken and tarragon pie. I'm sure I did, but I have no memory of how I made it or what went in it. I seem to remember it had mushrooms in maybe? That does sound like something I'd do. Anyway, I decided to make something similar, but since I didn't have any mushrooms this is done with leeks instead. Practically the same thing.
You will need:
2 large chicken breasts
1 medium sized leek
1-2 tsp dried tarragon
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
3 tbsp creme fraiche
Splash of white wine if you've got any open
Wash and chop the leek. Start frying it in a saucepan on a low heat in a little olive oil or butter, and add a pinch of salt and pepper.
Cut the chicken breasts into strips and add to the saucepan. Add the tarragon and the lemon juice and zest. The wine too, if you're using it.
Continue cooking on a low heat until the leeks are soft and the chicken is cooked through - about 15-20 min. Stir the creme fraiche through until everything is mixed together.
Now, you'll have noticed I haven't mentioned anything about pastry or pies. That's because right then I didn't particularly fancy making pastry, and honestly, I just made this delicious chicken stuff so I think it's a bit cheeky to ask me to do even more for you. God. But the good thing about the above mixture is you can use it in a whole bunch of ways. I had it as a sauce on pasta, but here's a few more variations you can make.
- Use it as a pie filling using shortcrust pastry. As the filling is already cooked you don't need to put it in the oven very long. I blind bake the base for ten minutes on GM 5-6 first, then add the filling and the top and cook for a further ten minutes.
- Add two eggs to the mixture, put in a casserole dish and sprinkle breadcrumbs on the top, then cook for around 25 minutes on GM 5 for a light chicken bake.
- Add about a pint of chicken stock for a hearty cream of chicken soup.
- Take the leftovers from the fridge and heat up in the microwave without removing from the tupperware tub. Eat straight from the tub while watching 'Charmed'. Pause to shout at Shannon Docherty.
And many more! Probably!
You will need:
2 large chicken breasts
1 medium sized leek
1-2 tsp dried tarragon
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
3 tbsp creme fraiche
Splash of white wine if you've got any open
Wash and chop the leek. Start frying it in a saucepan on a low heat in a little olive oil or butter, and add a pinch of salt and pepper.
Cut the chicken breasts into strips and add to the saucepan. Add the tarragon and the lemon juice and zest. The wine too, if you're using it.
Continue cooking on a low heat until the leeks are soft and the chicken is cooked through - about 15-20 min. Stir the creme fraiche through until everything is mixed together.
 |
| Mmmm... mush |
 |
| I used conchiglie pasta. Because that was what was in the cupboard. |
- Add two eggs to the mixture, put in a casserole dish and sprinkle breadcrumbs on the top, then cook for around 25 minutes on GM 5 for a light chicken bake.
- Add about a pint of chicken stock for a hearty cream of chicken soup.
- Take the leftovers from the fridge and heat up in the microwave without removing from the tupperware tub. Eat straight from the tub while watching 'Charmed'. Pause to shout at Shannon Docherty.
And many more! Probably!
GBM 5, 6 and 7
A triple update! How exciting!
Week 5 has to be my favourite week so far. Not only was it based in my newly adopted home region of the South West, but it also felt like a good, friendly competition. The standard was high, and judged by cuddly over-sized teddy bear Tom Kerridge. Who I love a little bit. Other judges come in and tell the competitors to buck up and get to work, but Kerridge trots up, says 'Don't be nervous!' in his thick Gloucester burr, and proceeds to have a jolly nice time with everyone. Just lovely.
The chefs were all new to the competition. There was Emily, who looked a bit like Emilia Fox from Silent Witness and a bit like a sparrow; Chris, who I don't have anything amusing to say about; and Peter Sanchez-Inglesias, whose name I love and whose accent was a cross between trendy London and North Bristol so it was great when his dad turned up and was total Spaniard.
I really liked Emily's ideas, but I think she had a bit of a rough week - there were some scores for her which I thought should have been higher, but what do I know, I can't taste it. Chris bugged me a bit. His food looked fine, but he straight up said that he didn't know how to make food funny. I mean, it's a tough brief, sure, and he's certainly not the first contestant to have no sense of humour, but to not even know how to try sort of baffles me. Make something into the shape of a knob and have done with it. Jeez.
I would have been happy with either Emily or Peter winning, but Peter had it pretty much in the bag. Here's my highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Tough. I quite like everyone, but I'm voting for Chris because he has no sense of humour.
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Kerridge, hands down.
Moment of the Week - The camera is set up on Chris, who moves out the way to reveal an eery half reflection of Kerridge in the glass door, looking like nothing so much as Pipes from Ghost Watch. Amazing.
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Lot's of good ones here, but Emily's 'Shoot Lunch' venison took my fancy. Special shout out to Peter's Sunday Lunch.
Wild card of the Week - Simon Day being funny, but clearly a bit of a miserable sod.
Week 6 - Northern Ireland.
While I really don't want to be racially insensitive to the Northern Irish (I'm lying, I'm a massive racist), this week's competitors were clearly members of the supporting cast of Father Ted. There was Chris Fearon as Father Dick Burn, "Seriously though, Ted, I think you might win", "Do you really think so?" "NO!", Raymond McArdle as Father Fitzgerald (the one with the world's most boring voice), and Ian Orr as Father Larry Duff. I don't have a great analogy for that one, but he kind of looks like him.
Compared with the feelgood factor of last week, this week was really difficult to watch. Ian Orr (haha, it's like 'Eeyore') was ok, but Chris used to work for Raymond and I'm going to go out on a limb and say they didn't get on. I quite liked Chris in previous years, but Raymond clearly got him riled so there was some serious dick swinging going on. Raymond just made me uncomfortable. I think he was trying to be witty and banterish, but he came across as a no-agenda with mild crazy eye.
This could have been called 'The Week of the Tortured Metaphor'. Glyn Purnell (who I used to like, but stopped when I saw him say something vaguely racist on Saturday Kitchen. Yes, I'm a racist hypocrite) was the worst at this, but Ray did his fair share. Ray: 'Will your fish dish sink or swim? Chris: 'What?'.
The food generally looked pretty decent. As in previous years, Chris's ideas were better than the execution, but I still can't believe Ray won. That guy is going to get some serious beats in the final. Anyway, highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Close call between Chris and Raymond, but I'm going to go with the latter. The clincher was when he was fiddling about with some of Chris's props, to which he was (quite rightly) told to fuck off. Instead of laughing it off, or putting up his hands and saying 'fair enough' he got all defensive and went on about it just being a laugh. People who defend bad behaviour by claiming it was a joke really wind me up, so Raymond must now suffer as a result of my own bug-bears. I stand by it.
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Ian Orr (haha, like 'Eeyore').
Moment of the Week - Chris on Raymond's 'Titanic' main course: "The Titanic doesn't make me laugh. It reminds me of death".
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Chris' beef pie. That looked proper. Can't believe Ray won.
Wild card of the Week - Ray's 'Chocolate Volcano' that completely failed to erupt and looked kind of gross. Can't believe he won.
Week 7 - Central
This week had previous winner Daniel Clifford, with Will Holland (Duncan Goodhew) and Richard Bainbridge (hairy hipster Duncan Goodhew).
Oh Daniel. Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Last year he got his main course to the banquet (even though his other dishes weren't all that), and as a result his ego has swollen like my thumb when I've been fiddling with a hangnail too much and it goes all sore. I'm surprised he didn't have to stand really far apart to make room for his massive balls. So, Daniel was in this round, and had adopted a very patronising, almost patrician air towards the other chefs. I really wanted someone to beat him, and Bainbridge gave him a good run for his money in the final, but I will grudgingly admit he probably deserved to win. Dick. Richard had some really great dishes, but wasn't quite up to the same standard. Will's cooking was probably decent, but he had completely ignored the brief, and I was pleased to see that Marcus Wareing (who I have a soft spot for) came down on that quite hard. Seriously, guys, read the brief.
Highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Cliffooooooooooord!
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Despite an ill-advised puppet show version of a GBM final, I do think Richard was really quite sweet.
Moment of the Week - Daniel actually being quite gracious after winning - you really felt for Richard after he'd tried so hard.
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Richard's guinea fowl in a massive red dinosaur egg.
Wild card of the Week - Vic Reeves was guest judge. He didn't do much, but Vic Reeves gets a free pass because Vic Reeves.
Week 5 has to be my favourite week so far. Not only was it based in my newly adopted home region of the South West, but it also felt like a good, friendly competition. The standard was high, and judged by cuddly over-sized teddy bear Tom Kerridge. Who I love a little bit. Other judges come in and tell the competitors to buck up and get to work, but Kerridge trots up, says 'Don't be nervous!' in his thick Gloucester burr, and proceeds to have a jolly nice time with everyone. Just lovely.
The chefs were all new to the competition. There was Emily, who looked a bit like Emilia Fox from Silent Witness and a bit like a sparrow; Chris, who I don't have anything amusing to say about; and Peter Sanchez-Inglesias, whose name I love and whose accent was a cross between trendy London and North Bristol so it was great when his dad turned up and was total Spaniard.
I really liked Emily's ideas, but I think she had a bit of a rough week - there were some scores for her which I thought should have been higher, but what do I know, I can't taste it. Chris bugged me a bit. His food looked fine, but he straight up said that he didn't know how to make food funny. I mean, it's a tough brief, sure, and he's certainly not the first contestant to have no sense of humour, but to not even know how to try sort of baffles me. Make something into the shape of a knob and have done with it. Jeez.
I would have been happy with either Emily or Peter winning, but Peter had it pretty much in the bag. Here's my highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Tough. I quite like everyone, but I'm voting for Chris because he has no sense of humour.
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Kerridge, hands down.
Moment of the Week - The camera is set up on Chris, who moves out the way to reveal an eery half reflection of Kerridge in the glass door, looking like nothing so much as Pipes from Ghost Watch. Amazing.
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Lot's of good ones here, but Emily's 'Shoot Lunch' venison took my fancy. Special shout out to Peter's Sunday Lunch.
Wild card of the Week - Simon Day being funny, but clearly a bit of a miserable sod.
Week 6 - Northern Ireland.
While I really don't want to be racially insensitive to the Northern Irish (I'm lying, I'm a massive racist), this week's competitors were clearly members of the supporting cast of Father Ted. There was Chris Fearon as Father Dick Burn, "Seriously though, Ted, I think you might win", "Do you really think so?" "NO!", Raymond McArdle as Father Fitzgerald (the one with the world's most boring voice), and Ian Orr as Father Larry Duff. I don't have a great analogy for that one, but he kind of looks like him.
Compared with the feelgood factor of last week, this week was really difficult to watch. Ian Orr (haha, it's like 'Eeyore') was ok, but Chris used to work for Raymond and I'm going to go out on a limb and say they didn't get on. I quite liked Chris in previous years, but Raymond clearly got him riled so there was some serious dick swinging going on. Raymond just made me uncomfortable. I think he was trying to be witty and banterish, but he came across as a no-agenda with mild crazy eye.
This could have been called 'The Week of the Tortured Metaphor'. Glyn Purnell (who I used to like, but stopped when I saw him say something vaguely racist on Saturday Kitchen. Yes, I'm a racist hypocrite) was the worst at this, but Ray did his fair share. Ray: 'Will your fish dish sink or swim? Chris: 'What?'.
The food generally looked pretty decent. As in previous years, Chris's ideas were better than the execution, but I still can't believe Ray won. That guy is going to get some serious beats in the final. Anyway, highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Close call between Chris and Raymond, but I'm going to go with the latter. The clincher was when he was fiddling about with some of Chris's props, to which he was (quite rightly) told to fuck off. Instead of laughing it off, or putting up his hands and saying 'fair enough' he got all defensive and went on about it just being a laugh. People who defend bad behaviour by claiming it was a joke really wind me up, so Raymond must now suffer as a result of my own bug-bears. I stand by it.
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Ian Orr (haha, like 'Eeyore').
Moment of the Week - Chris on Raymond's 'Titanic' main course: "The Titanic doesn't make me laugh. It reminds me of death".
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Chris' beef pie. That looked proper. Can't believe Ray won.
Wild card of the Week - Ray's 'Chocolate Volcano' that completely failed to erupt and looked kind of gross. Can't believe he won.
Week 7 - Central
This week had previous winner Daniel Clifford, with Will Holland (Duncan Goodhew) and Richard Bainbridge (hairy hipster Duncan Goodhew).
Oh Daniel. Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Last year he got his main course to the banquet (even though his other dishes weren't all that), and as a result his ego has swollen like my thumb when I've been fiddling with a hangnail too much and it goes all sore. I'm surprised he didn't have to stand really far apart to make room for his massive balls. So, Daniel was in this round, and had adopted a very patronising, almost patrician air towards the other chefs. I really wanted someone to beat him, and Bainbridge gave him a good run for his money in the final, but I will grudgingly admit he probably deserved to win. Dick. Richard had some really great dishes, but wasn't quite up to the same standard. Will's cooking was probably decent, but he had completely ignored the brief, and I was pleased to see that Marcus Wareing (who I have a soft spot for) came down on that quite hard. Seriously, guys, read the brief.
Highlights:
Biggest Prick of the Week - Cliffooooooooooord!
Least Prickish Prick of the Week - Despite an ill-advised puppet show version of a GBM final, I do think Richard was really quite sweet.
Moment of the Week - Daniel actually being quite gracious after winning - you really felt for Richard after he'd tried so hard.
Bronwen's Favourite Dish - Richard's guinea fowl in a massive red dinosaur egg.
Wild card of the Week - Vic Reeves was guest judge. He didn't do much, but Vic Reeves gets a free pass because Vic Reeves.
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