taglierini with truffle, baked cod, jerusalem artichokes and fennel
Back home to my parentals, the Christmas food thing really gets going. Not only do I not have to lift a finger to be fed fantastic food and delicious wine, but I also don't have to pay for it!
Last night I arrived at their house exhausted from shopping and travelling, to be fed roast spatchcocked chicken with paprika and lemon, roast potatoes and homegrown 'rainbow chard', followed by green salad, delicious cheese and homemade membrillo. Then by the log fire, it was lemon verbena tea with Japanese sweets made of chestnut paste stuffed into a candied yuzu. This morning I had buckwheat pancakes with maple syrup, followed barely two hours later (thanks to my excessively lazy getting-up time) by delicate vegetable soup rendered special by home-made chicken stock , and more salad and cheese. With a tea-time snack of more sublime Japanese sweets, it was on to a dinner which began with one of the most perfect dishes one could imagine.
One of the restaurants that my father is indirectly responsible for thought that they could persuade the good burghers of East Suffolk to pay for white truffle. Fortunately not many of them were willing to cough up, so there were some left-over truffles from the order, plus their mushroom supplier has been packing some complimentary black truffles into every box of wild mushrooms that they ordered. Don't tell the taxman, but somehow a few of these excess truffles ended up being grated over some suitably expensive taglierini on our plates this evening. Heaven, accompanied by a fantastic Barolo Meriame from Paolo Manzone (available from Adnams, of course!). The heady, hormonal scent of truffles and Barolo combined made me feel somewhat like Catwoman when faced with the catnip - nostrils twitching uncontrollably, hairs standing on end.
After such a starter, there's no point in trying to top it with the main course, so we had a simple but perfectly cooked baked cod with cherry tomatoes and black olive paste, baked jerusalem artichokes and roast fennel. I'm incredibly lucky to have parents so passionately committed and capable in the kitchen. It would not even cross their mind not to have a 'real' meal three times a day. Every time I read the latest newspaper poll showing that no-one has a family meal any more, I thank my lucky stars that since I was born, I have eaten beautiful, ritual meals with my parents, conversing and chewing, at least two courses every evening, a glass or two of good wine, tea or coffee afterwards, talking about what we put in our mouths and loving it.
Last night I arrived at their house exhausted from shopping and travelling, to be fed roast spatchcocked chicken with paprika and lemon, roast potatoes and homegrown 'rainbow chard', followed by green salad, delicious cheese and homemade membrillo. Then by the log fire, it was lemon verbena tea with Japanese sweets made of chestnut paste stuffed into a candied yuzu. This morning I had buckwheat pancakes with maple syrup, followed barely two hours later (thanks to my excessively lazy getting-up time) by delicate vegetable soup rendered special by home-made chicken stock , and more salad and cheese. With a tea-time snack of more sublime Japanese sweets, it was on to a dinner which began with one of the most perfect dishes one could imagine.
One of the restaurants that my father is indirectly responsible for thought that they could persuade the good burghers of East Suffolk to pay for white truffle. Fortunately not many of them were willing to cough up, so there were some left-over truffles from the order, plus their mushroom supplier has been packing some complimentary black truffles into every box of wild mushrooms that they ordered. Don't tell the taxman, but somehow a few of these excess truffles ended up being grated over some suitably expensive taglierini on our plates this evening. Heaven, accompanied by a fantastic Barolo Meriame from Paolo Manzone (available from Adnams, of course!). The heady, hormonal scent of truffles and Barolo combined made me feel somewhat like Catwoman when faced with the catnip - nostrils twitching uncontrollably, hairs standing on end.
After such a starter, there's no point in trying to top it with the main course, so we had a simple but perfectly cooked baked cod with cherry tomatoes and black olive paste, baked jerusalem artichokes and roast fennel. I'm incredibly lucky to have parents so passionately committed and capable in the kitchen. It would not even cross their mind not to have a 'real' meal three times a day. Every time I read the latest newspaper poll showing that no-one has a family meal any more, I thank my lucky stars that since I was born, I have eaten beautiful, ritual meals with my parents, conversing and chewing, at least two courses every evening, a glass or two of good wine, tea or coffee afterwards, talking about what we put in our mouths and loving it.
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