i wanted a Viking funeral
This is the stove I grew up with, an all-gas titan of a thing made - fittingly for my Atlantic-crossing mother - by New World and installed in our house well before I was. The clock and timer died fairly promptly, followed over the years by various pilot lights, and finally, last autumn, the remaining viable oven.
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fruit and veg, pickled eggs, and shoppers (hi Mum!) in Sarf London
Maybe it was because I’d been deprived of Real Bacon for over a year (don’t start - it’s a cultural thing), but I may have met the love of my life while I was in London. Ladies and gentleman, allow me to introduce sandwich perfection:
the chef d’oeuvre of Maria’s Cafe: liver, bacon, onions, rocket and mustard on a bap
When the lady working the flat top asked me if I wanted onions, she fixed me with a look that would have made Vinnie Jones stand up straight. I said “yes, please”, and added an “of course”, at which point she smiled and proceeded to chat with my mum about god-knows-what for the next ten minutes while I wolfed down this piece of culinary perfection. Dazed and delighted, I went on to buy Arbroath smokies, black and white pudding (see after the jump), some Real Bacon, and … I dunno, there were probably some vegetables in there too.
Click through for pictures of Henderson’s Butchers, but be warned that they are Not Safe For Vegetarians:
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For those of you (like my friend GiGi - did you get any feeling back in your tongue yet, dear?) who are not familiar with the sinus-blasting power of Colman’s Original English Mustard, a primer. This is industrial grade stuff: it is medal-winning, 195 years old, the essential ingredient of Dickensian cold cures, and the reason why Victorian mustard pots are so damn small. Mix it with water to reconstitute, do NOT inhale carelessly while the tin is open, or rub your eyes until you have put the lid back on and washed your hands. And most importantly, do not assume that just because it looks like standard American deli mustard, you can slather it around with the same abandon. Proceed with caution and measure in microns. Now that the dire warnings are issued, let me say that it is the best imaginable condimentary dab for really good sausage or cold roast beef. It also makes an amazing crust for a roast when mixed with flour, salt and pepper, and a pinch or two in a plain vinaigrette gives a lovely zing and helps emulsify the oil and vinegar. Colman’s was standard issue in our house, as was the gag “screaming snake in a Colman’s jar” that lurked in the pantry and adrenalized the mustard quests of me and my sister for years. Maybe the theory was that making a seven year old jump out of her skin before she sat down to eat her bangers would help her develop the constitutional fortitude needed to eat the stuff (once she stopped hyperventilating and found the real jar) without a fire extinguisher handy.
best stocking stuffer this year: thanks, Santa!
“Is there anything good on the telly? I’ve got an idea of something to throw together for supper, and we can have it on trays,” she says. Way to raise the bar, Mum.
black olive and thyme souffles, marinated roasted peppers, salad and pain au levain
Meat from the hill, fish from the sea, fruit and veg from the garden. Sticky buns from the bakery, flying saucers from Charlie’s, and surfing at midnight because the sun hasn’t set yet and Lizzie has an extra wetsuit, so why not? And yes, it’s the north coast of Scotland, but the sky really is that blue.
