Finally I've had a weekend off from the usual love hate relationship routine of deciding what to cook over the weekend.
Friday we were promised Mexican by a non cooking and non food obsessed friend and we left far from disappointed and with full bellies.
Saturday we had been invited to one of R's aunties to celebrate the birth of her first grandson. From previous excursions to this relatives house we knew to starve ourselves for at least six to eight hours before as what normally lay ahead was a feast fit for a king and all of his army. Sometimes at large gatherings were you have not seen your relatives in a long time, your manners and politeness are on high alert and you can be more inclined to take what you think you should have from the overflowing buffet table rather than taking what you would actually like. You may grace your chosen meat with a salad leaf or two with a minuscule drop of mayonnaise leaving your plate looking desperately empty, where as all you really want to do is have a slice of every kind of meat going along with lashings of accompaniments, just so its slightly starting to bulge over the side of your weight burdened plate and you have to lick the dressing off from where it has ran down your fingers.
How ever at this particularly kind family ( one that we have not seen some members of for a while ), there is no need for any type of food shyness or a compulsion to be extremly girly ( ' oh i could 'nt possibly manage any more than these two limp green salad leaves on my plate'- Ive been there, its not attractive and almost looks rude ) when it comes to plating up for your evening meal. We are always warmly encouraged to take what we like and fill our plates to a mountainous height, which is not difficult to do when such an amazing spread is laid before us. With richly browned beef, a blushed salmon so daintily decorated with a mass of peppercorn pink pawns, beetroot set in what tasted like a blackberry jelly ( amazing) and a glistening ruby red smoked ham that i would quite easily of sold my soul for, it was undoubtedly up there with one of my favourite meals. Its so simple but so effective and the fact that my fingers had not even graced the knobs of the kitchen that this superb feast was cooked in made it taste all that bit better. I often wonder why that is, why when i love nothing more that spending hours preping and cooking and becoming so involved in what I'm making i block out all my surroundings, i prefer and relish in the taste of other peoples food ( especially when cooked so perfectly by R's Aunt ).
Sampling each of the three puddings she had prepared for us ( well if you can call a dessert bowl bursting at the sides a sample ) we left, having had a most enjoyable afternoon with relatives that made us feel so welcome and comfortable in their home with such generosity that was now starting to rumble slightly in the depths of my stomach, as per usual my eyes were much larger in comparison to my now over filled by giddily happy tummy.
My weekend mornings are usually spent in my pajamas with an array of different men, fortunately for me R doesn't mind, if i made him sit through hours of Rick Stein, Simon Hopkinson, Hugh Fearnly Whittingstall and Valentine Warner he would without doubt send me packing. Luckily for me i am always up at the crack of dawn and when seeing 6am on my phone on a Sunday morning i don't bury my head back under the warmth and coziness of my duvet, i tactfully creep out of the room, taking care not to step too close to the creaky floorboards so i don't disturb R and make one graceful silent swoop around the door and make my way down stairs to spend an hour or so with a handful of different men.
The one episode that particularly took up most of my attention was Simon Hopkinson - The Good Cook, from Friday night. When ' The Good Cook ' first appeared on our screens it took me a good 10 minutes to start warming up to the programme, he definatly has a more softer approach than some of the other great TV chiefs, one that isn't quite as mesmerising but yet is utterly fascinating. He doesn't just throw everything in a pan and come out five minutes later with a culinary delight he takes great care and pride in the way he passionately prepares his historical dishes, simply explaining the detailed process in a nonchalant manor.
Roast chicken was the recipe that particularly caught my eye, not because i haven't already got a good and trusted method already but because this is one of the dishes he is perhaps mostly known for ( in the home cooks world anyway ).
You don't need me to tell you what a good roast chicken should taste like, but this was everything and more, i beg you to sample it next time you decide to chuck a bird in the oven, it takes hardly any preparation and no particular looking after as it encases your house with its enchanting aromatic fumes, the only thing i will say that is of great importance is the quality of your chicken. I understand that Free - Range is more expensive that your intensely farmed bird but the quality of the meat suffers greatly for that. If the welfare of the chicken in a free range environment is not of highest importance to you ( shame on you ! ), then at least take into consideration the difference in the quality of the meat between the Free Range and intensively farmed chicken.
Next time your in the supermarket about to purchase a chicken that has lived the life of a sardine in a sardine tin ( cramped, unable to move, smelly and desperate for a small glimmer of daylight ) , just place it next to a free range specimen, the difference should be unremarkable. The intensively farmed chicken will look slightly tired and stretched maybe a tinge of red in its colouring. The Free Range however will glow and bloom like a rose between many thorns, it will neither be too fat nor look like its lived as an anorexic , but will have an even covering of muscular meat that has a closely fitted stylish jacket of skin around it.
I'm not saying in for sayings sake, how meat is reared will have a definite effect on its taste, if it doesn't bother you how this wondrous bird has been produced then that's fine but you might as well give up eating meat as what you stomach is trying so hard to digest is only a weak tasteless shadow of the more magnificent and respected bird it should of been allowed to become.
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