Becky Bakes…

Several of our young friends are relieved that they can finally have the celebration they had hoped for. All these revised plans reminded us of the most complicated wedding we’d been to. We took a very early flight from Heathrow to Paris, checked into our hotel, changed our clothes then took a taxi to a church somewhere in the northeast of the city. Our young friend, a teacher at a school with which my school exchanged pupil visits, looked so different. Since I had last seen her she had sadly lost both her parents in a car accident on the Peripherique. A few years earlier we’d spent a lovely evening with them in their apartment overlooking Sacre Coeur. So sad. Now our friend had become blonde and was wearing an enormous meringue-style dress. After the ceremony we were taken to the Chateau de Chantilly where we waited many hours in the sun whilst endless photographs were taken, with just a glass of champagne. Our young son bravely dealt with the long, long wait until eventually we sat down to enjoy the meal. It must have been about 10p.m. when a spectacular suckling pig pierced with sparklers was paraded through the different rooms. It was delicious and probably my favourite of the dozen or so courses. By midnight we were exhausted but still impressed by the croquembouche which appeared, then we found a quiet corner to just try to doze. By 2 a.m. we found a ride back to the city, woke the hotel night porter and eventually fell into bed. When we finally woke at about 10 a.m. our poor son was covered in spots which the local pharmacist insisted was a fish allergy, even though he’s never liked fish. Chickenpox was the real diagnosis and the flight home was awkward…To cap it all, when we arrived home I was expected to go straight out again to a baptism party. So tired, but what a weekend.

How could I have chosen such a hot evening to make and film our next video? You’ll see it very soon – I’m standing at the cooker stirring and stirring….. Lost in thought, it reminded me of one particular Sunday lunch at La Scogliera near Arese. We had booked our usual table and were surprised to see a wedding party arriving for the reception and subsequent party. Intrigued, I asked Pietro about their menu – he was delighted to explain it to me all in Italian of course, then proceeded to bring us a taster (well, a morsel really) of each course they had chosen…all 12 of them. It was such an experience and so delicious, but the one that has stuck in my memory ever since was the risotto. It was simply champagne risotto. How romantic is that? Now maybe you’ve worked out what I was stirring on that hot, sticky evening x

As a child one of the naughtiest things I did was to drink the vinegar from the enormous jar of pickled onions sitting on the floor of the pantry. The cupboard was under the stairs, so I could shut myself away and nobody knew what I was up to. Fast forward many years and when lunching with a colleague, she ranted at length about “undressed” salads, resulting in a sharing of recipes for vinaigrette. My first version was 3 tabs olive oil/1 tab wine vinegar/ 1/2tsp french mustard to stabilise the emulsion, all whisked together well. I’ve used that for many years, but it often isn’t enough and so I double everything and use some balsamic vinegar too. So 6/2/1. More recently it has become 8/2/1 so it has less of a “bite”, with the balsamic vinegar enriching the colour as well as the flavour. Funny how our childhood preferences have long-reaching implications!

You might be aware that we adopted two cats recently. They are lovely – so gentle, lap cats through and through. They really enjoy fishy cat food and crunchy treats, watching the seagulls soar by and the pigeons courting on the fence. Since their favourite food has to contain fish I thought I’d be safe roasting a chicken. Not so. Chaos ensued. The smell had brought them downstairs, so that serving dinner was almost impossible. We managed to distract them with jingly toys and empty promises, eventually exiling them to the conservatory. Eventually we got our dinner…..but the looks we got…… I felt so bad. Now we have new strategies- not least giving them their dinner first.

There was a recent addition to the shopping list which left me (almost) speechless, shocked – certainly discombobulated. This postcard size piece of paper had been sitting on the dresser awaiting all the usual additions… eggs, milk, flour etc…. but in the bottom corner it suddenly said French Fancies! I had to stop and think what that meant, these are not the sort of thing I grew up with or have bought, never mind made. They once appeared on the Bake Off though as a technical challenge – is that what reminded the tech. team of their existence? In the box there were 6 square mini-mountains in brown, pink and yellow. I was offered one, but declined. In no time they were gone. What is it that makes them special? Honestly, I have no idea, except that they make me cringe…so sweet and sickly. Totally retro. What tickles your palate?

Do you remember that programme? Bernard Braden, David Frost and Millicent Martin who sang (badly) when they reviewed the past week. It’s been a bit of a week here too – not least because we’re still trying to settle our rescue cats amid trips to the vet. They are very nervous, easily spooked by unexpected noises and one of them needs medicine for a few more days, still unable to go outside till they are really settled and we’re confident they will come home. As well as this we’ve had a plumber to do small jobs…leaking taps…you get the idea. He happened to notice a leak from our hot water tank and decided to fix it, but that didn’t go well. I’ll spare you the details but, suffice to say, we’ve had no heat, hot water then cold water, for quite a few days. I don’t like upheaval or being cold at the best of times and we’ve had a mixture of weather this week, today being very chilly. Meal plans have gone out of the window and I’ve just become more and more cross. But now, by a minor miracle, we are warm and have water that’s hot. We can wash up and shower with impunity. The moral of this tale? Value your tradesmen, keep them sweet and make them copious amounts of tea/coffee. Oh, and if it’s their birthday, make them cake.

Do you remember the egg crisis of the late 1980’s ? Edwina Currie MP made a passing comment that most of the eggs in the UK were contaminated with salmonella (at that time) This caused chaos – with her resignation designed to calm the situation. The egg producers and farmers all denied her claims and tried to reassure the public, but the immediate panic led to vast numbers of chickens being culled and hardly any eggs being bought for quite some time. Only yesterday I read a report of one journalists experience at the time…whilst she and her family as well as their neighbours all suffered the effects of salmonella. They had all eaten chocolate mousse – it was a popular, speedy dessert made with melted chocolate and raw eggs. Later, there was a Whitehall inquiry into the sorry situation and it was found that Mrs. Currie had been absolutely right, but the damage was done. Public confidence in eggs was at an all time low. With the trailer for a comedy show frequently airing on TV at the moment, the reflection of the anxiety is perfectly illustrated when raw egg is mixed into a cocktail – Alan Partridge’s advice to camera is always to cook your eggs thoroughly. Isn’t it interesting how just a few words spoken in haste can have such a lasting effect? I still can’t bring myself to encourage anyone to lick the cake spoon even though salmonella in eggs has been (almost) totally eradicated.

It was heartening to read of the alliance formed recently between chef Tom Kerridge and footballer Marcus Rashford who are working together to encourage families to cook economical meals. Both grew up having free school meals and understand the implications of that “entitlement”. We waste and throw away so much food in this country that a down-to-earth approach to shopping and cooking couldn’t be more relevant. Which brings me to one of my bugbears – bagged salad. Once the bags are open some need to be used within 24 hours and that isn’t always possible. I tried adding left-over leaves to soup which was a mistake, it tasted awful. So now, as well as growing our own from seed to cut as we need it, we also buy pots or trays of young plants from the garden centre to grow on the window sill instead of planting them out. Having snipped off a few leaves as we need them the plants keep growing with just a little care. One of our better ideas?

Now that restrictions are lifting and life is returning to a kind of normality, we’ve decided to alter our routines – just a little. The tech-department is finding many more demands on his time and whilst the deputy cameraman has been doing a sterling job, it’s the editing of the videos that takes the time. So, as a result, we are going to upload videos every two weeks which means there isn’t one today..sorry! There are 54 already on Youtube so I’m sure you’ll find something useful amongst them and please don’t hesitate to message me if you have a question. Happy cooking, Bx

There were lots of these in our little Suffolk seaside town this week – people relieved to at last be able to go shopping in all those “non-essential” places. They were certainly getting plenty of retail therapy judging by the number of bags being carried too! A new phrase seems to have been coined – “revenge purchase” which aptly describes the feeling that you just need to be able to spend some money after being locked-down for so long. I felt it myself in spite of having made some internet purchases. There is nothing like being able to wander into a shop and to see (close up) and feel the item before you decide whether to buy it or not. Lots of the people in town seemed to have visited from out-of-town…. Essex and Norfolk of course, but further afield too, I met some from Lincolnshire and Yorkshire. No doubt the local self-catering properties will be booked to capacity which will help revive the local economy. What a relief. Let’s all do our bit to help with recovery and shop locally. (“Smiling faces, beautiful places” was the state’s slogan on our car’s registration plate in South Carolina)