Food

Rum, Sodomy and a Radish

Proof that even well-intentioned and useful fads can go too far: the Grow Your Own Vegetables movement has reached a tragi-comic end with the news that Shane MacGowan, the hardest-living poet ever to emerge from the mean streets of Tunbridge Wells, is, well, this… Shane MacGowan is set to appear in a reality TV programme about growing vegetables. The Pogues’ frontman and his girlfriend Victoria Mary Clarke both take part in the RTÉ One programme, which is called ‘Victoria and Shane Grow Their Own’. In the show, the pair attempt to emulate the plot of ’70s sitcom ‘The Good Life’, which saw characters Tom and Barbara Good attempt to live

The 50 Best Foods in the World

As Ezra Klein says it would be remiss not to give this transparently link-whoring Observer list of The 50 Best Foods in the World and Where to Eat Them the attention it so desperately craves. And like Ezra I’ve only had two of them: the pastrami-on-rye at Katz’s deli in New York and currywurst in Berlin’s Prenzlauerberg. Each was good; each easily replicated elsewhere in their respective cities. Or at home, for that matter.  I don’t eat fish, so I don’t know about the Fish & Chips at the Wee Chippy in Anstruther. My favourite chips, however, are to be had at Leo Burdock’s in Dublin. For that matter, I’m

Department of Fast Food

Andrew Stuttaford, exiled in New York, thinks the creation – and about time too – of the kebab-flavoured* Pot Noodle demonstrates that there’s hope yet for the Old Country. He has a point. The Kebab Pot Noodle will be a particular boon to rural dwellers. City folk, however, should remember that this new product cannot hope to surpass the majestic sight – and taste! – of a kebab pizza which is then deep-fried. *”Flavoured” is used in the loosest possible sense of the term, obviously.

Could You Go A Chicken Supper, Bobby Sands*?

Exciting fast food wars update: faithful reader MT alerts me to something I should have known myself. Not only is the British embassy in Tehran located on Bobby Sands Street, there is a Bobby Sands burger joint in hip and happening Tehran too. Andrew McKie has also considered the ideological implications – nay, temptations – of the chip shop wars. As he suggests: “Fish supper, chicken supper. A theological and geopolitical minefield. This calls for a book, really.” Quite so. *Explanatory note: During Bobby Sands’ hunger strike fans at Glasgow Rangers and Heart of Midlothian, among, I think, other clubs, would sing, to the tune of “She’s Coming Round the

The Best Little Brisket in Texas

One thing I’d like to do next summer (if, that is, we have a summer) is devote some time to doing some proper BBQ. No surprise, then, that I was a sucker for Calvin Trillin’s New Yorker piece on the small Lexington BBQ-joint hailed by Texas Monthly as the home of the Best BBQ in the Lone Star state. As a longtime editor, though, he knew a Cinderella story when he saw one. It wasn’t just that Snow’s had been unknown to a Texas barbecue fancy that is notably mobile. Snow’s proprietor, Kerry Bexley, was a former rodeo clown who worked as a blending-facility operator at a coal mine. Snow’s

Elitist Greens

Matt Yglesias reconsiders his position on arugula. Of course, in Britain we call “arugula” “rocket” – a much more homely, substantial, salt-of-the-earth kind of name, you will agree. A ploughman might have rocket in his sandwich, he’d never have “arugula” would he? Names matter! I can’t recall for certain, but I’m pretty sure arugula used to be called rocket in the United States too, but that the name was changed because someone – growers? Supermarkets? – wanted a poncier, more exotic, upscale name for the stuff. If Obama loses in Novemeber this shift will doubtless be seen by historians as a key moment in American political history…

Cooking Bullwinkle

In the light of all the Sarah Palin entertainment, Matt Yglesias asks a good question: how should you cook moose anyway? He links to some recipes (Moose nose in jelly??) some of which confirm my suspicion that you should treat moose as though it were venison or, even, at a pinch, wild boar. Slow and low is almost certainly the way to go. So I’d hazard that this would be a pretty good moose feast: Marinade your hunk of moosemeat (leg? Loin? Does it matter?) for at least 24 hours in a bottle of country red wine, with plenty of garlic, juniper berries, salt, pepper, thyme, marjoram, bayleaves etc. Rosemary

Annals of Modern Life

It had to happen: peanut butter now comes with a warning that, yup, it contains actual peanuts. On the other hand, perhaps this isn’t as absurd as it may seem. Or, to put it another way, it’s good to see that peanut butter is, well, peanut butter and not something made using ersatz-peanut-like substances. That this is reassuring is, of course, also depressing.

Tip for the Day

Courtesy of a friend’s Facebook status update: XXX XXXXX advises you not to chop chillies before inserting contact lenses Good advice!

The Great British Sausage

The news that ASDA is selling sausages that are, alarmingly, just 34% pork for 2p each naturally brought this classic Yes, Minister moment to mind: [Hat-tip: The Corridor]

Belgian BBQ in Memphis

American breakfasts are pretty good, or at least as fine as can be expected from a meal that doesn’t include black pudding. But there’s no doubting that the United States’ greatest culinary marvel is proper BBQ. It’s the finest American food there is. Porcine perfection. And BBQ is going international, according to this lovely piece in the Washington Post: It’s difficult enough for any new team to compete in the Super Bowl of Swine, which sends smoke wafting over downtown Memphis for three days every year. There are rules (written and unwritten) and traditions aplenty in this 30-year-old contest, which drew 125,000 spectators to one of the cradles of American

A New Cultural Revolution

I wish this surprised or even shocked me. True, this is Dundee, but even so… Six young brothers and sisters face being taken from their parents and put into care because they are overweight. Social workers have warned they will intervene if three of the youngsters – including a 12-year-old boy who weighs 16 stone – do not shed several pounds in three months. The parents have been told they risk losing all their children if there is no improvement in the 12-year-old or two of his sisters aged 11 and three – who weigh 12 stone and four stone – by June. The family have also been ordered to

Bad Korma*…

There’s plenty of scaremongering about immigration these days but, even allowing for a proper degree of skepticism, this constitutes a clear and present danger to our way of life: The curry industry will die if action is not taken to address tough new immigration laws, restaurant bosses have warned the Scottish Parliament. They claim food quality will deteriorate and up to half of the Indian restaurants currently in business could shut. The comments came as 100 restaurateurs staged a protest at Holyrood over the changes to immigration rules. They claim a shortage of kitchen staff has been created as a result. Restaurant owners said legislation which came in at the

Email of the Day

In a whimsical Facebook moment I suggested that life would be more bearable if everything were as fine and reliable as a good pork pie. Too true, you may feel like saying and I wouldn’t blame you. Need it really be said that the ready availability of quality pork pies is one of the great benefits of returning to the United Kingdom? A friend emails: “Your status update puts it beautifully. There is something about pork and pastry alright. I’m a sausage roll man myself, but there are so many poor versions out there it’s always a gamble. The upside of pork pies is that anyone who bothers to make

A Cook’s Bookshelf

Megan offers her annual Christmas cooking recommendations. Kit here; manuals here. As usual, there’s lots of good stuff. But permit me to offer some supplementary ideas on the matter of cookbooks. If, as Megan suggests you should, you own several of Julia Child’s books you may not think you need another set of classic volumes on French, Italian and Mediterranean food. You’d be wrong. No serious Anglophone cook should be without at least two (if not all three) of Elizabeth David’s masterpieces: Mediterranean Food, Italian Food and French Provincial Cooking. These three books alone provide enough inspiration to last a lifetime. More than just recipe books, however, these old friends

Pizza Wars Continued…

Yeah, so Megan can’t find New York style pizza in Washington. Well, I can’t find Scottish pizza here either. I forgot to ask earlier if any readers know of anywhere on the eastern seaboard that does a good, proper deep-fried pizza*? *Photos from a fine chippie I used to frequent regularly: Piccante on Broughton Street in Edinburgh.  We were spoilt for choice, in fact, since we also had the Rapido 100 yards down the road. Their traditional – that is, only cooked once – pizzas were better but Piccante took the palm for deep-frying. It’s also one of the few places I know where, honoring the spirit of Scottish invention,

In Search of the Perfect Pie

As any newcomer to DC must, Megan McArdle bemoans the relative lack of decent pizza in Washington: To a lifelong New Yorker, there is no other sort of pizza than the large, thin, New York slice. We may disagree amongst ourselves about the theological details–crispy or floppy, thick border or thin, sweet sauce or spicy, and how much grease is too much? But basically, we’re all in the same church, and it’s a highly localized one. Chicago pizza may be a fine foodstuff, as long as one consumes it without trying to imagine that it is actual pizza. But it is no substitute for the One True Faith. Well, sure,