The opposite of food envy

It's not all that unusual. And it's not just me, either. You'll recognise it too. You'll have cooked a promising, grand scale new recipe. Perhaps it's for a dinner party with the in-laws or long lost friends, or a cosy dinner for your man. Whichever way, you will have poured your love into it, slaved over it and licked your lips at the prospect. But then you sit down for it, have a bite and think: oh...

It's the opposite of food envy, it's food disappointment.

Yesterday, while tidying away a stack of old magazines, I came across a booklet full of sweet treats in aid of a cancer charity. I leafed through, and got all salivatory over this cake, thought out by a London cake-maker-to-the-stars. I won't mention names, as I am sure she (normally) makes quite lovely cakes. The thing was, she boasted that this was one of her favourites and would taste divine. It had apple, rosemary and not a lot of sugar in it. I got excited. I baked the cake. I ate a slice right when it came out of the oven. I ate another slice when the cake had cooled (maybe the flavours would come out better). But all I could think was: oh...

Looks nice enough, doesn't it?

Jelly beans

The product Sour jelly beans

The ingredients Sugar, glucose syrup, water, modified cornstarch, acidifiers E296 (malic acid, found in fruit) E297 (fumaric acid, found in fruit) E330 (citric acid), flavourings, glazing agents E901 (bees wax) E903 (canauba wax , from trees) E904 (shellac, from lice), fruit an plant concentrates (algae, safflower, nettle, spinach, turmeric), colourings E100 (turmeric) E120 (cochineal - made of a crushed scale insect) E171 (titanium dioxide - a mineral).

The blurb Natural colourings and flavourings

My thoughts They are jelly beans. The actual ingredients are basically sugar and sugar, cornstarch and a whole load of E-numbers, including bits of insects), how much does it really matter that the ingredients are natural? It's candy for crying out loud. It's hardly going to be healthy now is it? But hang on, they've natural colourings and flavourings. That's all right then.

(Did I eat them? Yes. Were they nice? Yes. Do I care about the natural stuff? Nah. If I wanted something all natural I wouldn't be eating jelly beans. End of.)

The perfect egg

My first lie in in months, breakfast at one pm and the perfect egg. Happy Sunday!

Fourth time lucky

It took not three but four times before I found my name there: the contributors' page of Allerhande magazine. Only the second most read magazine in the Netherlands! I have been telling people, quite proudly, that I'm working for them for several years now (not a word of a lie either) but the proof was never in the pudding: my name has, until now, been missing from that final page. Making me look like a total git. And a bit of a fibber. When, really, REALLY, I'd been working for them all along.

One of the recipe cards for which I edited the recipes

But now, this Easter issue, the time has finally come: my name, though misspelt, is there in black and white. Fourth time lucky. Happy Easter!

Result

You'll find some of my favourite recipes from this issue here.

Work a lot: Roast Niyom Coffee, Chiang Mai

The area, on the studenty side of Chiang Mai, is renowned for its good coffee. And with Chiang Mai being the coffee capital of Thailand, that's saying something. But still... Driving there at noon on a sunny October day, through a labyrinth of dusty roads and smelly exhaust fumes breathed out by a thousand fellow mopeds, I couldn't quite find what I was hoping for: coffee heaven. 

(My quest reminded me of driving around Los Angeles, looking for the city centre. I couldn't quite find it then either.) I found a bakery selling the most divine, buttery milk buns. I found a little restaurant with an outdoor kitchen serving blue noodles. But a cute coffee place to linger away a few hours? Not in sight.

The milk bun factory

There were coffee places all right. Big, McDonald's style set-ups, with overhead menu's, meal deals and stark interiors. Places too empty to contemplate actually sitting down in. Who wants to drink their coffee alone, in a vast space, without a buzz or any people watching to be done?

When I was about ready to drive off again, mission unsuccessful apart from the cardboard box full of milky buns I scored, I passed it: the coffee place I was hoping to find. Along a busy road, in the parking lot of a rather awful residential building that also housed the café's toilet (a bit of a trek, admittedly) - it was hardly the ideal location. But inside I found an oasis of air con coolness, Thai quiet busy-ness and free wifi. In the middle of the café, a tree was protruding through the ceiling. 

It's bird! It's a plane! No, it's a massive tree trunk

The coffees were made to perfection, with an eye for detail that only the Asians seem to possess.

The place was filled with young people working on laptops or having informal meetings. I felt a pang of regret at not having my laptop with me nor having any work to do. This would be a wonderful office away from home. (Here I was, on holiday, wishing I was working... What was going on?) It turned out to be my favourite Chiang Mai hangout. I did the only thing I could and wiled away a few consecutive mornings there, slowly sipping my coffee to make it last. With a milky bun on the side.

Roast Niyom Coffee, Siri Mangkalajam Road, Chiang Mai, Thailand, facebook

Eat a lot: Sala da Mangiare, Neukölln

These last few weeks, glued as I have been to my daily trio of hospital ward, sofa and breast pump, I have taken to reading the papers on my ipad. And so, one morning at around 4 am, I read restaurant critic Jay Rayner's recent review in the Observer, in which he waxed lyrical about a friendly neighbourhood place. "You know the sort of thing. Just enough tables to make it work. The kind of food “real” people want to eat; dishes that are classy and intense without being up themselves. Lots of regulars. More like eating at a friend’s kitchen table than at some stuffy joint."

Sounds lovely doesn't it? In an eighties Cheers kind of way. Where everybody knows your nay-hay-hame... (If you're not singing the Cheers theme tune by now, feel very lucky. You're one of the young ones!)

Through my sleepy haze, I realised: I know one of those places. In fact, it's right around my corner and I visited it quite recently. Yet it's a lifetime ago, when I was not yet used to the daily soundtrack of saturation monitors beeping.

I had to dig quite deeply into my memory - had I really been there less than three months ago or was it all a dream? This was in no way a reflection on the memorability of the food served at Sala da Mangiare, as it was absolutely lovely. So was the minimalist setting of whitewashed walls, dark wooden furniture and exposed brickwork. And the company of Francesco; Italian taste-bud-on-legs and a brilliant guide to the city's true Italian eateries. Francesco is from the same Italian region as the owners of the restaurant, Emilia Romagna, and so eating the regional food is a trip down memory lane for him too.

Eat a lot: Adana Grillhaus, Kreuzberg

Adana Grillhaus, Manteuffelstraße 86, 10997 Berlin, no website, +49 30 612 7790

A perfect pancake day

There are many reasons why I love Nigel Slater. He's a big old softie, for one. His veg garden makes me want to say 'I do' and then there are his recipes. Ah, his recipes... I made broccoli soup from Nigel's wonderful book Tender for Christmas dinner once, and it finally convinced my in-laws, who until then thought I made my living 'translating stuff', that cooking's my thing. (They still think I'm a translator I reckon, but they do ask me for input now when Christmas dinner is being prepped.)

In last week's Observer, Nigel presented the world with a better than good pancake recipe. A bold statement if ever there was one. I mean, it's eggs, milk and flour. How much of a difference can there be? My mum used to make pretty good ones: thick, rich and filled to the rim with apple. My friend Chantal's mum already had the whole French thinner than thin crepe thing worked out in the 1980's. And nothing beats Nigella Lawson's superquick fluffy American ones at breakfast time. Did I really need another pancake recipe?

But this was Nigel we're talking about, the man whose recipes I trust blindly, the man who made me a 'good cook' in the eyes of my mother-in-law. This pancake recipe was to be taken seriously (or to be given a chance, at least). So with a slight hint of scepticism I set about making the (fairly liquid, I noticed) batter, letting it rest for the required thirty minutes. Then I made the pancakes, as thin as I could, in a pan glazed with a smudge of melted butter. And boy where they good. So soft, so buttery, so crisp round the edges. I had one with bacon and cheese, and a plain one served with lemon and sugar. Never will I use another recipe for pancakes again. Never will I doubt Nigel Slater again.

A fairly crap shot of a fairly perfect pancake

Berlin through the eyes of Jamie

Thanks everyone who sent me kind and supportive messages after my last post. I feel basked in your warmth!

Without much further ado (mainly because there's no time!), here's the full article I wrote for Jamie magazine, Dutch edition, on foodie Berlin. I'm working on a translation so non-Dutchies, bear with me! Photographs by Maarten van der Wal; the lovely illustration on the last page is by Linda Scott.

January shenanigans

What a month it's been!

I temporarily moved countries, became a first time mum-of-twins (way too early) AND an orphan (always too early), all in the space of three weeks. I have never cooked so little in my life... I came out at the other end sporting an unexpected Abba hairdo, which goes to show: there's a silver lining to every cloud. Or in this case, to every thunderstorm.

Here's to a great February for everyone.