The Tragedy about a Daylight Robbery

Earlier this year, we saw The Play That Goes Wrong at the Duchess Theatre. All things considered, it's a pretty good production, subverting as it does a wide range of theatrical tropes to comedic effect. I laughed quite a bit. All good so far.

Then, a few weeks later we went to see the spin-off, Peter Pan Goes Wrong, which was less fun - perhaps unsurprisingly, given that the supply of ideas for stuff that can go wrong was probably thin on the ground following the sheer number of things that, rightly, went wrong in The Play That Goes Wrong.

Nonetheless, it was still just about worth watching, in a sort of pantomimey, passing-the-timey sort of way.

Pornographic Joy

Over the past week I've had to firmly bite my tongue and reign in some of my more controversially heartfelt opinions, following the passing of certain individuals with whom I probably would not have got along.

But I face no such moral dilemma today.

Cards on the dining table, I'm genuinely saddened to hear about the death of Clarissa Dickson-Wright, one of my favourite 'celebrity chefs' - if such a tawdry description isn't doing her a disservice - and a truly great English eccentric.

The finest foodie television of the late 1990s saw Clarissa infamously paired up with Jennifer Paterson, an equally outspoken lady of similar girth and uncompromising good taste.

It's been nearly 15 years since Paterson's death brought Two Fat Ladies to a premature end - Christ, time flies, doesn't it? - and it's strange to think that, at 66, Dickson-Wright is actually younger than Paterson was when they started making the series. Both taken too soon.

Trailer Park Foie Gras

Having drastically culled Britain’s Turkey Twizzler population a few years ago, Jamie Oliver has been at it again, this time taking on low-grade filler meat across the pond.

‘Lean finely textured beef’ aka ‘Pink slime’ – the highly-processed beef that finds its way into American fast food to keep the cost down – has now received such negative PR that it’s become a no-go area in much of the US food industry. 

It looks like another battle won by Mr. Oliver, and for those of us that prefer our food tasty and natural, that can only be a good thing.

Yes, he can be a bit of a twat at times, and his girthy tongue sometimes runs away with itself, but on these sorts of issues I’m largely in agreement with him.

But even prior to the Oliverian backlash, it was still easier a hell of a lot easier to find a really good quality burger in the US than it is in this country, which rather begs the question of what goes into some of the manky burgers we get over here?!? Possibly something just as slimy and pink that hasn’t yet been tarred with such an unappealing name?

As a Libertarian I wouldn’t want to ban ‘food’ like this altogether, and because so many people will be boycotting Pink Slime it might develop a mystique and become the foie gras of the poor.

Sick and wrong

One of the most disgusting things I’ve ever eaten – and it was only a tiny smidge, which was all I could bear – was some ‘Potted Meat Food Product’. You find it occasionally in small tins in gas station minimarts, particularly in the Mid-West and South.

The product that has to tell people that it's food...

I took a can back to share with my then-colleagues and most refused to try it outright. Some couldn't stand to be in the office kitchen when we opened it - such was the unpleasant aroma. The only person who ate an entire crackersworth is now the Labour PPC for Ipswich and might possibly end up as some kind of junior food minister in a future government!

Generally I find tinned food hard to stomach anyway, but this lurid, salty sludge was particularly grotesque. I reckon it probably had some Pink Slime in it, in addition to the mechanically separated chicken, partially defatted cooked pork fatty tissue, beef hearts and tripe.

I just can’t work out why people – even very poor people – eat these things. It’s like the (largely apocryphal) stories about students eating dog and cat food, which make no sense as they could buy value baked beans and pappy sliced loaves for a lot less. Do they need meat that badly?

And, incidentally, prior to the 1970s Pink Sludge was considered only suitable for use in pet food products!

Surely even vegetarianism is preferable to these sorry excuses for ‘meat’?!?

Cottage Pie and Broken Dreams

I’ve had an idea for a new TV food show, given that they’re all the rage at the minute’n’shit.

Probably called ‘Cook It!’, or ‘My Way’ or somesuch, it’s a format of such pure simplicity that it could make for fascinating contests, like the first couple of years of Big Brother before producers started wanking around with the rules and every housemate became a wannabe Z-lister.

And it might well have been done already – I don’t watch enough television to say for certain that it’s an original idea – but if it has, I’ve never seen it.

My screenplay, apparently

Little story: Many years ago I went for a meeting with a couple of TV producers to talk through some ideas I’d had, including one for an exciting, original drama full of intriguing twists.

They let me talk them enthusiastically through the synopsis for many minutes, perhaps with some degree of awkwardness on their part, before quietly informing me that I’d actually been recounting, with startling accuracy, the entire plot of The Pelican Brief. Oh.

I didn’t know! It wasn’t my fault I hadn’t read it or seen it and had just happened to come up with a similar idea! You've got to believe me!

I never heard from them again.

But life goes on

Anyway, here’s the deal: The contestants – three or four of them, probably - are told at the start of the programme what is on the menu that evening. Like ‘Spaghetti Bolognaise’ or ‘Eggs Benedict’ or ‘Cheese and Ham sandwich’ or ‘Apple Crumble’. Simple.

Perhaps after a couple of series, the prescribed dishes could be a little more ambiguous – ‘Pheasant Surprise’ or ‘Chocolate Outrageousness’ or something – but that’s it.

I think you see where I’m heading… we’d then see footage of the contestants going round shops buying up their ingredients, while the host watches on a big screen nodding and raising eyebrows as appropriate.

Later, in the studio, the cooks assemble in the on-set kitchens and - cue more nodding, eyebrow-raising and sarcastic comments - cook the specified dish. Their recipe. Their own individual take on whatever the menu might be.

Textbook Cottage Pie, this, texbook

The range of different interpretations of the same meal is bound to be interesting. Do they stick to a classic formula or ancient family recipe and concentrate on executing it perfectly? Do they take bold risks, topping their Bolognaise with slices of quince, or drizzling pigs blood over the crumble?

Will some poor sap spend hours perfecting an original and delicious Cottage Pie recipe, only to be told that ingredient-for-ingredient it's exactly the same as the Cottage Pie made by the catering unit on the set of The Pelican Brief?!?

God I wish those TV producers were reading this

I really like the idea that four different people could make four very different Paellas, and the winner would be determined by a vote after a tasting – though unlike Masterchef et al, I’d like to see the contestants make enough so the audience can try some too.

It seems ridiculous that the Ready Steady Cook winner is determined by the votes of a studio audience who only get to see (and possibly smell) the food. Surely you need to taste it to make an informed judgment, no?

And we’ll have no racing against the clock and plating up at the very last second or any of that needless manufactured drama either. They can start when they’re ready with a view to finishing at roughly the same time.

Anyway, I know it’s similar in a lot of ways to a number of existing shows, but then so is most TV.

On that note, here’s a relatively conservative – but extremely yummy – recipe for Cottage Pie, which I might possibly do if I were ever a contestant on this programme and ‘Cottage Pie’ was the dish of the day.

Actually, come to think of it, ‘Dish of the Day’ would be a far better title than ‘Cook It!’, wouldn’t it?

The BV Cottage Pie

Ingredients - serves four:

Lean minced beef, 1½-2 pounds
Carrots, 4 large or equivalent, coarsely grated
Onion, 1 large or 2 small, finely chopped
Chestnut mushrooms, a handful, chopped

9 out of 10 people we asked couldn't tell the difference!

Desiree or White potatoes, several, for the mash
Tomatoes, 3-4, chopped
Garlic, 2-3 cloves, smushed/finely chopped

Worcestershire Sauce and/or mushroom ketchup
Celery salt
Black pepper
Paprika
Plain flour
Olive oil

Butter
Red Leicester or Mature Cheddar (or a mix of the two!), grated


Method:

Fry the onion and garlic in a little oil on a high heat until the onion softens, then add the minced beef. Season the meat generously with celery salt, paprika and black pepper as it cooks, then add the mushrooms, tomatoes and finally the grated carrot.

Once the meat is cooked through, add a big glug of Worcestershire Sauce/mushroom ketchup, reduce the heat and cover, letting it simmer for an hour or so, longer if you've time.

Coming along nicely...

While the meat is simmering, cook and mash your potatoes with lots of butter, aiming for a nice, creamy consistency, adding some grated cheese along the way.

Transfer your beefy mixture to a casserole dish, adding a little flour to thicken before so doing if necessary.

Ideally you want the dish to be filled evenly, and just over the half-way line to get the right ratio between potato and filling.

Spread your mash smoothly and evenly over the top of the meat, ensuring it’s completely covered, then add a sprinkling of grated cheddar to the top for extra cheesy goodness. Cheese goes well with beef and potato, don't you know!

Pop the dish in the oven (don’t cover!) at about 200 degrees for 15-20 minutes, so the cheese melts and the top browns slightly. When it looks ready, it’s ready.

Serve with a dollop of baked beans (be sure to add Worcestershire sauce) and a pint of good honest ordinary bitter.

For a ‘Shepherd’s Pie’ variation, use lamb instead of beef, substitute the carrot and paprika for diced aubergine, rosemary and mint, and perhaps top with crumbs of Feta instead of grated cheddar.

Cordon Bleug

Today's Menu

 

To Start

Pickled Cloves (v)

Whole cloves, steeped in Spirit vinegar, just the way you like 'em.


Double Foie Gras

What could be more delicious than the liver of a force-fed goose? The liver of a goose that's been force-fed with Foie Gras, that's what!


Baked Toast (v)

Slices of finest toast, with figs, hand-baked until dawn. Tastier than watching a film.

Main Courses

Braised Tusk

A whole Walrus tusk, slow cooked in poo wine and garnished mit curds.

Served with your choice of fries, baked potato or Arctic Roll.


Pork Wombs in Brine

Three succulent, tender young pork wombs, stuffed with bletted quince and hand-cured in a spicy brine.

Comes with a big hunk of stale granary bread - perfect for mopping up the briney amniotic juices!


Arse Pie (v)

Our house speciality - a bigger slice than you can comfortably manage, with a salad of deadly vines.


Mashed potato with rice all mashed up together (v)

Served with chips, pasta and chips.

Dessertines

A lime (v)

Nothing more; nothing less.


Choco-nutty-toffee-coffee-fruity-mallow slice

With skipjack tuna chunks and cream.

For parties of one or more a discretionary charge of 12.5% will be added to your bill.

... And relax!

You see, the thing is that a lot of top chefs today are preoccupied with making their food unique rather than making it tasty.

If it can be radical and different and delicious than that's all well and good, but the loss of touch with ones diners is a cardinal sin that a select few can get away with purely because of their fame.

It's a similar pitfall faced by artists and musicians - where originality ceases to be useful in itself and exists purely for novelty value. Everyone can sit around talking about how worthy and unique Steve Reich's music is, without wanting to admit even to themselves that they'd rather be listening to Teh Quo.

How many people actually order Heston's famous Snail Porridge at the Fat Duck? And of those how many actually thought 'hmm, this is delicious; I'd like to eat it on a regular basis'?

I admit that I haven't tried it, and I'm in no hurry to do so, being no huge fan of either snails nor porridge, but I'd hazard that a more prominent reaction might be 'hmm, well, it was interesting... I'm glad I tried it... such a novel idea, isn't it?' - that sort of thing.

Maybe it's fantastic. I don't know. But it doesn't need to be, because the novelty value and fame element ensures a waiting list at the Duck, even in these austere times.

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, who I admire greatly, took several steps up the ladder of fame by cooking a human placenta and making it into paté. In some circles, this is what he's most famous for, and to some, all he will ever be, which is a great shame.

Celebrity chefs have, I've no doubt, spent most of their careers cooking fantastic dishes, and the creativity and flair for experimentation should be encouraged. (Heston, I want the credit if you steal my pork wombs recipe, I know you read my blog!)

But when radical foods succeed solely because of the reputation of their creator, and the repute itself feeds off controversy rather than quality, we're living in a dangerously hypocritical place.

If the snail porridge had been served up by some anonymous arthritic crone at the Bray parish church fete, the reaction would, surely, have been one of unanimous disgust and few would even have sampled its escargian oatiness.

Cooking shouldn't be conservative, and it shouldn't have boundaries and constraints. Last night, on a mad whim, I fried shards of apple in with my sausages. Never done it before like that. Yeah, I know, really radical.

But it tasted good, which is the important thing.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to start braising my walrus tusk and brining my pork wombs, because that's far more radical, and therefore will taste even gooder, obviously.

Or possibly not.