curlywurlyfi

a box of wine...

and if you are anywhere near Baker & Spice, go there, for the most astounding selection of traiteur-type food. Wild rice salads, grilled fennel + orange, grilled quail, poached salmon, bruschetta, goats cheese pastries, tiny chocolate chip cookies, all available by weight in small plastic containers. You may have to hand over approximately twice its weight in gold to pay for it, but I had grilled broccoli in olive oil and chili the other day that made me cry with happiness. (edited for hyperbole) (to add it, I mean)

Anna, that looks absolutely stunning. Would you be able to let me have the recipe?

go to Villandry. they have a 'choose your own' section where you pick your desired bread + fillings. I got a proper York ham + cheddar sandwich with onion marmalade on delicious crumbly wholemeal bread which was so big I had half of it for lunch the following day. they also have pre-made sandwiches in little cellophany bags; I bought a tuna nicoise one for my lunch, didn't get round to it, was at the theatre in the evening by which time it had been maturing in my handbag all day and the dressing had all soaked into the bun... yowza. My friends were fighting me for bites of it. I would also like to give a special mention to their Mexican wedding cookies.

may I commend to the group Lidgate's pies? (Lidgate being the butcher on Holland Park.) You can buy them in ever-increasing sizes starting from for two (ie one, if you're me), and they come in proper china pie dishes or I expect they would let you bring your own dish if you want to pretend. The chicken leek + bacon was wonderful, steak was also good, both jlike your mum would make - nothing fancy shmancy, just honest stoo + good rough puff pastry with lots of the whole soft white underbelly thing going on.

slightly OT but I hate being the one who has to start a new toilet roll - the first few sheets that are always steam-pressured together, so I end up tearing them apart with my fingernails scrabbling round and round, with long torn streamers ending up all over the floor. and what about those cereal boxes which say 'insert finger and slide to open' - invariably mine just tear back out to the unperforated bit and I end up with a cereal box which has a tiny gap in the middle and resolutely glued ends

Never heard that before. What constitutes a "slab"? a slab is 24 cans of beer (or any other tinned drink/food) shrinkwrapped onto a cardboard tray

I love ogling other people's shopping and trying to work out what event they're shopping for, eg: - fifteen pizzas and a slab of beer = he's having the boys over for football - fillet steak, red wine, bag of salad = she's trying to seduce someone - nail varnish remover, bottle of gin, a lemon, pint of Ben + Jerrys = she's home alone with Frasier, Friends and ER - catering-sized box of value teabags, lots of own-brand biscuits = they're having the extension done and are stocking up so the builders don't drink all the Fortnums tea

[bump] Idly leafing through the Review section of this morning's Independent and what do I see but an entire page devoted to the ten best range cookers. Irritatingly the Review section isn't on-line so I can't do the link thing, but will keep article on my desk and run off copies if anyone's keen. Sorry for all you high-end junkies, though - nothing over £6,500 here. Oh and I went for the Smeg in the end - had to buy a little 70cm one though, since it came down in the end to a straight choice between a fantastically giant cooker and actually being able to get into the kitchen... Fi

Rachel, this made me laugh out loud! I was feeling most scratchy after hours spent struggling home (tube strike in London), so dinner was three mammoth gin + tonics (but slimline tonic, so really they had no calories at all, and that Tanqueray gin is extremely dry). then my old friend emergency salmon: boneless salmon fillets (from the supermarket on the doorstep), fried crispy on the outside, doused with really quite a lot of good balsamic + equal quantity soy while still in the pan to make sauce, served with steamed broccoli. Then some of my flatmate's Vignotte. And a lot of lying on the sofa letting the healing rays of the television wash over me. (edited for clarity)

Hello all. Have never posted in the Wine Forum before, but I am just back from a long weekend in St Emilion (Bordeaux), and now that my liver has had a couple of days to deflate, I thought I would give you a small account of my trip. My brother and I went as a surprise for my father, who was there to be intronized into the Jurade de St Emilion. Basically, this means he will be an (unofficial) ambassador for their wines. Which suits him very well, and me too, as he is extremely fond of St Emilion wines and particularly likes to share them with family and friends! He was there with a group of Maltese friends in the charge of Michael Tabone, a Maltese wine merchant who organizes a week’s trip every year to St Emilion and Armagnac, with tastings, chateau visits, armagnac tastings and truly vast meals. I went with them in 2002 and gained a pound for every day I was there, which may give you some idea. I met my brother Jock at Bordeaux Airport and we drove to the hotel outside Libourne. My parents were sitting having a drink in the lobby, and I heard my father, who had believed that neither my brother nor I could attend the ceremony, say wistfully “There’s a chap there that looks very like Jock…” Cue much laughter from my mother, followed by surprise and delight from my father. The whole group apart from my dad had been in on the secret and were congratulating themselves that no-one had let it slip. I knew many of them from the last trip, so there was much hugging and kissing and back-slapping. Then it was onto the bus and off for a tasting and dinner at Chateau Angelus. You have to hand it to the French – they show absolutely no fear when catering for large groups. Where in the UK or the US would you have a large party (30 people) being served a no-choice menu that kicked off with feuilleté de riz de veau aux morilles? Mushrooms? Sweetbreads? PASTRY??? The Atkins lobby would beat you to death with a pie-crust. The wines were very good, with the 2001 tasting before dinner and the 95 and 97 with the duck and cheese. The owner of Angelus, Hubert de Bouard, talked us through them, asking us to take particular note of the Angelus house style with the mint overtone at the end. He also gave us a Fleur de Bouard, which is a new vineyard that he and his wife have recently bought for producing wines to drink companionably, rather than seriously. I will say now that while I like wine, as my liver constantly reminds me, and particularly St Emilion wine, I am no good at describing it afterwards. So I can confidently tell you the Fleur de Bouard was very soft and drinkable, but the 97 Angelus was particularly good – quite tannic, but with lots of black fruit on the nose. I preferred it to the 95 (which Parker gives 95 points – so sue me). Angelus 95 and 97 The following morning, we had a tour of St Emilion with an opportunity to shop (delicious macaroons, and unfortunately umbrellas, since it was very showery) and then walked up through the top of the town to Chateau La Serre for an aperitif. It sits between Ch Ausone and Ch Trottevielle, so is in good company. Luc and Beatrice d’Arfeuille treated us to their 2001 to accompany foie gras that Mme d'Arfeuille had made herself (a Michel Guerard recipe which calls for marinating in a mixure of port, armagnac and sherry, along with nutmeg and white pepper). This was delicious and proved for me that one need not always drink sweet wines with foie gras. She and I had a long conversation about food, though I stopped short of trying to explain eGullet to her (why! why!), mainly agreeing that it is all very well to have new and interesting fusion cuisine if you have correspondingly untraditional wine, but to show off a classic Bordeaux wine, you need a classic French dish. Cue long discussion about the best way of cooking foie gras, what really goes into a blanquette de veau; the difficulty of finding good bread, Charlotte Russe, the lampreys that she fishes herself in the Dordogne… View from the terrace of Ch La Serre. Ch Auzones is on the small promontory on the right View over St Emilion We then waddled back down into the town for lunch (as if we weren’t full of foie gras) at L’Envers du Décor, a wine bar/brasserie owned by the proprietor of Chateau Soutard, where the group had been for dinner the previous night. Pate maison (with delicious onion marmalade); confit of duck, then cheese. The restaurant is constantly mentioned in guides to dining in St Emilion, and it was good, but extremely slow service. With this we had a 1996 Soutard, which was beautiful – soft and long. After this, it was back to the hotel at about 4pm for a nap to prepare ourselves for dinner with Francois and Marielle Sulzer at Chateau La Bonnelle. Their son, Olivier, and his wife Diane, have often been to Malta to stay with the Tabones so we were received ‘en famille’ and it was a much less formal affair than the previous evening. We were in the garden with the dog (a beautiful and beautifully behaved Weimaraner); the children were running in and out, and the aperitif was served very informally on the garden table. The Sulzers offered us their ‘clairet’ – a rosé which they are not allowed to sell – it is made for private consumption only. With this they gave us some tiny prawns about half an inch long that had been boiled with star anise and which you ate, heads and all; boiled sea snails with a bowl of garlic mayonnaise; olive and parmesan biscuits; cubes of melon and best of all for the seafood-loving Maltese (honestly they are like big seagulls) four huge baskets of oysters. In the garden at Ch La Bonnelle We moved inside for dinner of barbecued milk-fed veal chops and petits pois and broad beans a la francaise, and a 1994 La Bonnelle. We progressed to an entire wheel of Brie that Marielle had brought down on the train from Meaux, thus alienating the entire carriage, and at this point we ran out of wine, so Olivier went to the cave and pulled out some of the unlabelled and still dusty bottles ‘pour continuer avec la meme annee’. Then we had strawberry sorbet with enormous fresh strawberries and macaroons, both made by Diane. It was scarcely possible that we had eaten so much after such an enormous lunch but… the Maltese Are Not Afraid Of Eating! The following morning was the day of the intronization ceremony and the Proclamation of the New Wine (ie the 2003), and we gathered shortly before 10am in the Jardins de la Mairie (the town hall garden). Jurade setting off The Jurade gathered and processed down the hill behind a band of piccolo-playing minstrels (which quite frankly I could have done without, and since when were spandex leggings mediaeval anyway) and then up to the Eglise Collegiale (the town's main church) for mass. This was charming, with the priest making space in his service to ask for God’s blessing on a couple who had been married for 60 years. Then back down the hill to the monolithic church (a church hewn out of one enormous block of rock; this is the biggest example in Europe) where the intronizations were to take place. About 60 people, mainly French but also from Canada, Malta, Scotland, England, Belgium and Slovakia were made Vigneron D’Honneur or Prud’homme. Much speechifying, draping with robes and small morsels of sheep, and then back up the hill to the mayor’s garden for a champagne reception. I do love the French – no rubbishing about with half-assed champagnes – Laurent Perrier for 500 people, no problem. Myself + family in the garden. You can just make out the ceremonial sash on my father's left shoulder Then, lunch. My god. The point about the Fete de Printemps lunch is that since it is a once-a-year event, the St Emilion wine producers fight for the honour of providing the wines. And again, they give no quarter to lowest common denominator catering. Menu, with accompanying wine Miroir de betteraves, homard et feves du jardin - this was a small amount of only-just set beetroot jelly trembling in a martini glass, with two or three chunks of lobster, broad beans and marinated thinly-sliced onion on top - St Emilion 2001, Union de Producteurs de St Emilion - L'Esquisse de la Tour Figeac 1999, SC Chateau la Tour Figeac - Le D de Dassault 1998, SARL Chateau Dassault Lamproie a la Bordelaise - lamprey in red wine + shallot sauce. The sauce was delicious, but the fish was a little strongly-flavoured for my taste - Chateau Gros Caillou 1999, Grand Cru, SCEA Vignobles Jacques Dupuy - Chateau de Ferrand 1998, Grand Cru, SA Ferrand - Chateau Haut Rocher 1998, Grand Cru, Jean de Monteil Pigeon roti a la farce fine truffee, petits pois et petites legumes grillees - a beautiful piece of pink pigeon, stuffed with chopped mushrooms, accompanied with tiny grilled aubergines, half a tiny red pepper and a baby fennel - Chateau Franc Mayne 1998, Grand Cru Classe, Georgy Fourcroy + Associes - Chateau Grand Mayne 1998, Grand Cru Classe, GFA JP Nony - Chateau La Couspaude 1996, Grand Cru Classe, Vignobles Aubert Fromages - Chateau Magdelaine 1990, Premier Grand Cru Classe, Jean-Pierre Moueix - Chateau Figeac 1983, Premier Grand Cru Classe, Thierry Manoncourt Sorbets fraise, framboise, basilic, bergamote et leurs croustillants - the basil sorbet was particularly good Cafe, macarons, caneles Certainly, there were wines on this menu that I will never taste again. The La Magdelaine, which was light and elegant, smelling of honey, with an almost port flavour to it, and which went so beautifully with the cheese, retails at around GBP100 per bottle. The Figeac – a much stronger, darker wine - is not far behind. There were also some I would never wish to taste again – for example, L'Esquisse de la Tour Figeac had absolutely no structure and fell away to nothing in the mouth. The La Couspaude was over – very flat, and a curious rubber nose. For me the highlight was the Grand Mayne, a big dark wine, with beautiful structure. Frankly you should count yourselves lucky that I was still able to taste anything at this stage, let alone actually take notes. The wines at lunch So lunch was over by about 5pm and we somehow located the bus and went back to the hotel. And, though I am still finding this hard to believe, we were up again at 8pm for gin and tonics to prepare our stomachs for what the hotel had laughingly billed as “a small barbecue”. Which started off with charcuterie, jambon de Bayonne and rillettes, wound through rice salad, chunks of grilled beef and duck heart kebabs, and finished with tarte aux pommes, chocolat mousse cake and pithiviers. And cheese, in case we were still hungry. Oh yes. Anyway, my brother drove me back to the airport on Monday morning and I flew into Gatwick and went straight home to bed. And here I am in the office, it is Wednesday morning about 10am and when I am not typing I find myself looking around and clutching the air with my right hand. Yes, I am waiting for someone to pass me a glass of wine. Au secours… Fi

does this mean it is like ricotta? am ignorant entirely and looking for assistance!

after a weekend spent overindulging in St Emilion (duck! foie gras! echire butter! croissants! RED WINE...) I came back to London determined to eat vegetables (and not slathered in butter either). So for supper I made some short grain brown rice, tossed with cooked peas, tiny cherry tomatoes, peeled raw broad beans, EVOO + lemon juice and lots of chopped parsley. and some broccoli, blanched then dipped in olive oil + salt + chopped fresh red chilli and griddled. I glow with health.

now I know what I'm having for supper tonight. NulloModo, do you have a recipe (or method)? thanks! Fi

I went to Racine on Friday 10 June for a birthday lunch with my friend Godwin ("Barrister To The Stars") and his girlfriend Sarah ("Solicitor To A Charmless London Borough"). Godwin and I are both June babies and Sarah is late May so, while we pour scorn upon her as not being born in the best month ever, we graciously allow her to come along to these things. Slightly disconcerting entrance to the room - you find yourself in a tube of red velvet - part the curtain and you're in the room - I can see this would be a good draught-excluder in the winter but on a warm Friday in June it was quite disconcerting. (Also it wasn't immediately obvious where the gap in the curtains was so there was a certain amount of pawing at the cloth in a slightly frenzied and claustrophobic manner.) Opened with a glass of champagne, and after a certain amount of horse-trading over who would have what - the menu really is astoundingly comprehensive, and I could have ordered five things from each bit, which never ever happens - ordered a South African sauvignon blanc from the winelist and got on with it. Sarah had the chilled crab + cucumber soup. this was beautifully presented, with an ice cube holding a spot of lobster oil floating in the centre. Delicious, rich crabby flavour, hint of tomato. Godwin (because Sarah wanted the pate too and he buckled to her will) had chicken liver pate. this came with teeny cornichons and pickled onions and was wonderful, rich, savoury, mmmm. Possibly a little un-pink, if one were being picky. I had crab + thyme salad with chorizo and saffron mayonnaise. Stunning presentation. Huge amount of delicious white crabmeat in a tower in the centre, on a little bed of cucumber ribbons in mayo, with three pinky-orange circles of thinly-sliced chorizo at noon, four and eight o'clock, with a daub of saffron mayo in between each, sprinkled with cayenne. This, sadly, was a little disappointing - the crab was lovely, but the chorizo was a little underflavoured and the sprinkle of raw cayenne didn't integrate them well. Couldn't taste the saffron in the mayo at all. Then mains. Sarah had the plaice in spinach + morel sauce from the set menu. Divine. Perfectly cooked fish with rich sauce, tiny morels giving almost truffly edge. Godwin had duck breast with (I think) grapefruit segments - nice, but a little dull. I had grilled rabbit with mustard sauce + smoked bacon - wonderful - rabbit (which can so often be like eating cottonwool) was juicy, sauce had real mustard bite. And of course bacon, what's not to like. Oh, Godwin and I got potatoes as well, I didn't eat mine (saving room for pudding) but he motored through his (dauphinois? can you see that things were getting a little hazy?) Finally, puddings. Sarah + I had spied a creme caramel at the next table and so she bagged one of those, along with a glass of Muscat, so I felt I had to go elsewhere on the pudding menu and had pot de creme de vanille with pruneaux. Blimey. Clog those arteries in one. But delicious. And home-marinated prunes had real kick. However, her creme caramel was amazing - ethereal, wobbly, gentle - sigh. Wished I'd had that. Godwin had cheese and a glass of Muscat also, I had a couple of espressos and another glass of Sauvignon, then we threw caution out the door and ordered another half bottle. yikes. So, irritatingly, the May baby won every course (yes, her fish was better than my rabbit). But god, it was good. All of it. Even the disappointing crab was delicious by normal standards. And professional service, and happy chefs (you have to pass the kitchen on the way to the loos). Slightly older clientele, though - we were the youngest people in there, at 35. Eventually at about 5pm when they started having staff dinner in the corner we felt we'd better make tracks. Total including service for three a la carte with three glasses champagne, two and a half bottles of wine + one glass + two glasses pudding wine, coffee, water + general exemplary looking after (oh and the best baguette I've had in London) was £70 a head, and we reeled out into the late afternoon sunshine well contented.

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

sigh. I am reading this blog, and drooling, and thinking wistfully, "gosh, isn't Lucy amazing, wish I were a bit thinner", whilst I eat my breakfast - white flour pancakes, full sugar raspberry conserve, and black coffee. Hmmmmmm. Fi

help someone he's clearly gone mad and having another one of his episodes.

I second the no-mayo thing. and agree with your recipe (though I'm not sure we ever had fresh basil in 1970s Glasgow), Jackal, except I insist on wholemeal bread. Eaten lying on the lawn on your tummy so the drips go into the grass.

Moby, I have to say, I have all six, currently residing in Top Trucks's finest storage warehouse in Silver End grrrrrrrrr, and I totally love them. They're not 'smart' food, because they're all the things that are tested in the BFC kitchen (and therefore given to the punters as lunch, so there are fantastic cakes + puds, but none of the mains/salads/soups are last minute high maintenance dishes, nor expensive, since BFC is a cafe and know they can't charge (nor have the space for) millions - so they are perfect for the time-pressed home cook, viz, moi). The best thing is they inspire you to go and buy the cookbook that particular recipe came from. Plus, they have (obviously) been extensively road-tested in the real world by the time they make it to the books, so have handy tips in that the originals perhaps lack. I've only ever had one disaster and that was the White Chocolate Sauternes cake. Yech. (oh, and the chicken and pomegranate molasses marinade, but that was my fault for undercooking the chicken and poisoning myself, rather than the recipe). Lawks - anyone would think I was on the payroll. right, back to the topic! how d'ya like them apples!

ah! so ok, now that I have discovered vegetable oil is a complete disaster for my poor little board, I have a question - is it too late for me to start again with the mineral oil?

that is magic

I Am Happily Being Appley?

where are you? because I too can travel! Fi - Prepared To Go The Extra Mile (If There Are Butter Apples + Pastry Involved). I'm getting keener and keener on this idea. woo yeah. if we're really serious, what about 17 or 18 July? And where is Tarka, the Tatin Tarte?

and perhaps Gwyneth Paltrow's new baby can have a starring role.