How Do You Like Your Chips?

 

I will never forget the time when I first witnessed the profound influence and brute power of chips. I was visiting my little sister, who was at a University College in Wakefield and having spent a night on the tiles, we joined a disorderly queue that was snaking out of one of the many chippies on the high street. As you might expect, levels of inebriation amongst the crowd veered towards the top end of the scale. Singing, jeering and laughter echoed all around, with the occasional cry as imaginary earthquakes sent people stumbling towards the floor, off kerbs and pavements and walls. And there was this one girl in particular, who I will remember forever. 

Skipping forward with a polystyrene tray, chips and curry sauce open, steaming in the cold night, her balance suddenly, yet not quite inexplicably, left her. Spinning and pirouetting around, she resembled cross between a demented ballerina and a new-born calf; all knock kneed, ungainly and unsure. Eventually, an ankle bent over, a heel snapped, her short skirt split further up the thigh and she came crashing down onto her knees. People zigzagged to her help and lifted her to her feet. Her knees were ruined, pouring with blood and her rescuers urged her to seek medical attention. Yet throughout the fuss, the dance and the drama, she had managed to keep her hand, which was carrying the chips, aloft in the air and as steady as a rock. Once she regained her composure, she brought the chips down to eye level to examine them and with a broad Yorkshire accent and lisp, uttered the words:

“Itsth fine, itsth fine, look I’m fine. Look, I didn’t even sthpill me chips!” 

And off she went, weaving into the darkness.

You don’t see that level of dedication that often, that commitment to the cause but after watching that little episode, it did hit home there and then, that when ravenous and hungry, chips can indeed perform small miracles. Or at least take your mind off smashed up knee-caps (though I am sure alcohol also helped).

 

However, to assume that chips are a staple and a saviour, only to be enjoyed at 3AM whilst waiting in the cab rank is wrong. As the facts and figuresfrom the people behind National Chip Week suggest, in Britain we ‘just can’t get enough of the delicious potato delight.’ And it was whilst reading up on some of these statistics that I began to think more about chips and what they really mean to people. Furthermore, I wanted to find out what constituted as the ‘perfect chip’ and what accompaniments or sauces should go with them and if indeed, there were any strange or quirky attitudes to chips. So I asked Twitter and here are some of the results.

 

Bolting straight out of the box came a reverence for French and curly fries, which was intriguing, as in my opinion they don’t rank as proper chips. Still, it seems that the likes of @hollowlegsand @foodstoriesgo nuts for them and have peculiar pedants about the order of dunking into condiments - “Ketchup first, then mayo, then mouth.” 

The thick cut brigade then started to emerge, which was a bit more like it, with @lotsofveg and @chefhermespreferring an unadulterated chip with just a smidgen of salt and sherry vinegar (very posh) and then slowly but surely the lard fanatics started to come out. People like @thepaulhart, @mikebirtilland @starryeyedvickiwho enjoy a certain degree of ‘beefy-ness’ in the flavour of their chips, with little regard for their arteries.

The animal fat situation developed further still with @Feelgd_Foodbksinging the praises of Tom Kerridge’s triple fried duck fat chips and @HighlandWagyuopining the virtues of Wagyu fat, showing that people are willing to pay good money for the ultimate chip and that they don’t necessarily have to be cheap.

 

Regional tastes then started to appear, with the ubiquitous curry sauce making an impact on the scene. Personally I am big fan of curry sauce and chips, so found myself in agreement with @lloydstevens, @grabyourspoonand @thetobykennedy.  But then gravy started to ooze in and that is one Northern delicacy that I really don’t get, despite recommendations from folk such as @kepickaand @clairetweet. And as for those asking for gravy AND melted cheese on their chips, yes that’s you @lazygiraffe, @faerietalefoodieand @DomesticJules, why would you want to put something that looks like vomit on your chips? 

Saying that, the homely slant of cauliflower cheese and chips from @gingergourmanddoes sound like the ultimate in comfort food and I am always up for mushy peas on the side @WalthamstowFood. Chips wedged between chunks of bread are also very appealing. Nothing quite beats a chip butty and thanks goes to @Brucy1 for pointing out regional differences when ordering one. A catch-all phrase would be handy though, something like: “I’ll have a mufftybuttbarmbap please.”

International interlopers came up with ideas such as full fat American range dressing and chips (@dracimedea) Dijon mustard and chips (@Spicespoon) and frites oorlog, chips piled with mayo, satay sauce and onion and very popular in Amsterdam, according to @applelisafood. All appealing yet totally bonkers suggestions if you ask me but the real freaks out there were the milkshake maestros. Those who think that dunking a potato chip into a sugary, ice-cream based beverage is the height of elegance. Listen up @VeeeZeee, @applelisafood(again!) and especially @shedlikesfood, you all need to take a good, long hard look at yourselves and sort your lives out now. Milkshake and chips?! That’s bloody sacrilege, don’t you know!

Thankfully, throughout this very brief and light-hearted investigation, hardly anyone expressed a preference for oven cooked chips. It was deep fried all the way. As in the immortal words of @them_apples, “Chips and ovens do not go together.” And for that I am glad.

My favourite repartee came from whoever it is that runs the Twitter account for Tiptree jam. Their assertion that chips are “Never better than late at night, in a jalopy, lights off. Slade playing loud. Saveloy or battered sausage?” really tickled my funny bone and bolstered an opinion that chips, perhaps more than anything other, are the universal food. Infinite in variety, shape and form, they come with a multitude of choices and can be enjoyed in plethora of environments and dimensions, depending on who you are, what you like and where you live.

Truly, the chip is an unbridled thing. And if you think about that last statement long enough, you’d have to admit, it all amounts to pretty profound and powerful stuff.

This post first appeared on Great British Chefs blog

Images courtesy of Food Urchin, lovepotatoes.co.uk, Annie Mole and Microsoft.com

Food and Drink Revamped

It’s not often I get to say things like this but the original series of Food and Drink was a little bit before my time. I do have some faint memories of the show, which reached its peak in the late 80’s before ending its run, quietly and discreetly in 2002. Mostly of wine critic Jilly Goodlen and her florid descriptions of plonk - “I am getting ecclesiastical loganberries nestled betwixt some bushes on the savannahs of the Serengeti. “ And I also vaguely remember Anthony Worrall Thompsonimpishly fondling some Victoria plums, whilst raising a titian eyebrow suggestively to the camera. But that’s about it. Back then, food television had to complete with Dungeons and Dragons and Michaela Strachan, so it’s no wonder that I hardly remember the programme. After all, what is food to a pubescent boy with a mullet and spotty chin?

However, I am all grown up now and I have been watching the latest series, now two shows in, with keen interest. Updated and reworked with Michelin starred chef Michel Roux at the helm and with Kate Goodman matching the wine, this version certainly looks a lot slicker and crisper than its predecessor. Gone are the lurid, bright lights and technicolor studio and in comes the Ideal Home kitchen. Complete with high-tech ovens, clean neutral lines, plenty of space, a couch, a huge wine rack tucked in the corner and loads of natural daylight. It is quite possibly a kitchen that I will never ever know but it represents a great return of investment for the family that hired out their second home.  

  

The mantra from the off is to look at the ‘what, how and whys’ of food and to delve into the current trends that influence us and it is Michel Roux’s job, resplendent in blue shirt, to get down to the nitty gritty of the food issues of today. So how has he done so far? Well, to be frank, so so really. There is no doubt that Michel is a fantastic, inspiring chef who can show the public a nifty trick or two, especially when demonstrating how to make a vegetable tart tatin or some deliciously delicate madeleines. Yet sometimes, his delivery and exposition can seem clunky. Watching Michel throw in a casual aside at the table, about world wide drought and the impact it will have on the cost of meat due to the rising price of grain, was whince inducing and painful. Sure, it's a relevant topic but the tone of 'good golly, what the bladdy hell are we going to do about this mess?' didn't sit comfortably with me.

Of course, these sound bites serve as links into relevant features within the programme (or VT’s as they are also known) where a well-known food presenter will champion some produce or a cause within two minutes. So far we have had Stefan Gates argue the case for switching from meat to insects as a source of protein, much to the distain of the farmers he interviewed, both old and young alike. Oliver Peyton has suggested that in the UK, we should have a classification system, similar to that in France and Italy, to protect and promote indigenous produce such as single Gloucester cheese and forced rhubarb from Yorkshire. Rachel Khoo whirled around Paris to talk about the importance of buying local, artisan food and laughed maniacally at a box of cakes. And William Sitwell has revealed that he is in fact, proper working class, by arguing for the Chorleywood process and cheap white bread against the virtues of snobby, life enhancing, hand crafted sourdough. Although, I do suspect that Mr Sitwell was indeed playing devil’s advocate for the camera on this occasion, whilst his Roller was kept running outside.

Guests have appeared in the form of Mary Berry, doyenne of baking, cakes and hollandaise in jars; and man mountain Tom Kerridge, proprietor and Head Chef at The Hand and Flowers. Now, is it me or does Mary seem to be everywhere at the moment? I know that baking in vogue, what with the recession and all that but she must be costing the BBC a small fortune. Tom Kerridge, on the other hand was great value for money and a man after my own heart. In the first episode, he brought a much needed sense of enthusiasm and humour to proceedings, extolling the threefold benefits of cider (for dancing, sleeping and fighting) and quite simply, he introduced a humble joy for food. You know how the saying goes regarding chefs and their size; well I would trust Tom with my children’s lives. Then again, have you seen his avatar on Twitter?

Sadly and maybe not through any fault of her own, the resident wine buff Kate Goodman seems to be the one who isn’t translating well at the moment.  If the remit of dumbing down wine has been put to her by the powers that be, and some wine producers are certainly encouraging this, then Kate has taken the bull by the horns. The explanation and information surrounding her choices for matching alcohol or soft drinks with the dishes that Michel creates is very limited indeed. Portuguese wine is Portuguese. English sparkling wine comes from England. Tea for afternoon tea is tea. And her vocabulary for describing the wines also leaves you wanting more. I am not wishing for the mad cat lady flourishes of old but it would be nice to discover more about the wine other than its “Acidity.” Kate obviously knows her stuff; she evoked an orgasmic “Yes! Yes! Yes!” out of Michel with her recommendation of an unknown Riesling but I am worried that producers have seen her little as an attractive blonde to stick on telly, more than anything else.

So two shows in* and my opinion is decidedly mixed. This is definitely not the Food and Drink of yesteryear. Yet the new show’s identikit approach has failed to capture my imagination so far and engage me properly. Rather than a revamp, there is a foreboding sense of a rehash about the programme, cobbling together bits and pieces of food telly that has already exists, filling the screen with well-known celebrity faces.

Like I said, I am not that familiar with the old format but I sort of get the impression that the approach was different back then, that the perspective or point of view came from impassioned yet anonymous gourmands and that the focus was purely on food. To recreate that sort of atmosphere in the current climate which is full of competition, fashion and porn (food porn I mean) would be difficult I am sure. But if a production company stuck its neck out and tried to concentrate just a bit more on the subject at hand, to encapsulate a touch more geekiness, thrash out a bit of history and to really, really look at the ‘what, how and whys’ of food. Then I would be caught, hook, line and sinker.

Because at the moment, Food and Drink, revamped or otherwise, is just another random show, about food, on the telly, sitting amongst the hundreds of others, not saying much at all really.

*OK, three shows in now.

This post first appeared on Great British Chefs blog 

Is it Edible?

I hesitate to admit it, but sometimes I scare myself. I was rearranging the meat cave and stumbled upon a hard nubbin of salami. Has to be from around Christmas time. I wacked it open and then remembered, AH, I put a pickled egg in there. It dried along with the salami and is hard and smells quite nice. But the question remains... can I eat it? Dare I? Has anyone ever heard of such perversity? Everytime I think I've invented something new someone tells me, nope it's been done. So I'm supposing this too is nihil novum sub sole.

Cooking for One and Eating Alone?

I had a very pleasant conversation with a guy in Sweden (via Skype) a few days ago. His question was why people don't cook, and it came down to people more frequently eating alone. So much of the experience of eating is indeed the sharing, the conversation, the social interaction. And of course cooking for others. It's more satisfying than eating, I think. But does eating alone really entirely preclude the possibility of cooking? Does anyone out there cook entirely for one's self? I admit, I forgo the formalities. I am eating what you see at this very second as I type, at my desk in the kitchen, right out of the pan. But why not cook for the sheer pleasure of pleasing yourself? I am normally cooking for kids, so it's rather like being a short order cook. And I end up eating what they want quite often. So I imagine my experience of getting to cook whatever I like for myself as a special treat is strangely unusual. But still, why would Lucullus not be pleased to dine with Lucullus?Is there anyone out there who says, AH, I get to cook for me. And I think I like what I serve on special occasions like this!

So what is it?? Simple: No particular name. You sautee some cavolo nero in oil, diced and minus the tough ribs, then add rice. Brown nicely. Then add fish stock. Pine nuts. Roasted red pepper. And some nice white fish filet (this is basa), with a sprinkle of zaatar at the end. I may have put some green chili sauce in there too. Yes. MAN this is good. But am I eating alone. I hope at some level, I am eating with you too dear friends.