Festively plump and full of cheer...

As with most people, from December 24th, the Christmas glut began. Rich salmon en croute with buttery mashed potato and peas, followed by mince pies with clotted cream. The inevitable, endless hoard of food on Christmas day, led to the left over ham within a bird within a bird within a layer of stuffing and a trio of desserts on boxing day.

Now, the simple thought of such things could see my trouser buttons flying off at tremendous speed, the likes of which I could take someone's eye out with!

A roast dinner followed yesterday, more food on top of food- roast Beef with all the trimmings, but hey, I'm not complaining! I decided to throw together a simple dessert from the pears I didn't use on Christmas day, my recipe is as follows:

Pears Poached in Mulled Wine
4x Firm Pears (peeled)
1x Bottle Red Wine
225g Caster Sugar
1x Teaspoon Cinnamon
1x Teaspoon Ground Nutmeg
1x Teaspoon Mixed Spice
4x Whole Cloves

1. Place the wine, sugar and spices in a saucepan. Stir until mixed.
2. Place the pears in the pan and bring to the boil.
3. Lower the heat, and place the lid on the pan, allowing the pears to simmer for 30 minutes.
4. Remove the poached pears and allow them to cool.
5. Continue to heat the wine until it reaches a syrupy consistency. Allow this to cool.
6. Serve the pears whole drizzled in the syrup with a good dollop of Clotted Cream!

After the rich, heavy foods associated with Christmas, this makes a nice, refreshing alternative (unfortunately, it doesn't count as one of your five a day!) And the great thing is, not only can they be made up to two days in advance, the texture and delicately spiced flavours are a nice change from the heavily alcohol lagged brandy butter injected fodder of the festive period!

A Cornish Culinary Adventure- Parts 4 & 5

Well, well, well. I guess I got caught up in the hoo-hah of Halloween. I neglected to update my tour of the south-west. So with apologies, here you go!

Day 4-

I awoke to the smell of traditional Cornish Hog’s pudding sizzling in the frying pan. The crackle of bacon, got me salivating straight away. A cup of freshly brewed coffee set the tone for this ‘Full Cornish’ ; scrambled eggs, hog’s pudding, westcountry smoked bacon and sausages from a local farm.

Unfortunately, this meat heavy breakfast left no room whatsoever for lunch... so no pasties for me today.

Later on, after no lunch, and despite having had fish and chips before, I simply couldn’t refuse the offer of Becks fish and chips! Just a stone’s throw away from my father’s house in Carbis Bay, Becks has been a family favourite for years- always a real treat!

The portion sizes at this place are simply astonishing, a piece of fish, and a portion of chips could easily feed two hungry people. With this in mind, I ordered the Haddock which in true Becks form, arrived in its polystyrene casing golden, crisp and bubbling.

It was as good as I remember it. You know how people have a romanticised idea about food, the kind of nostalgia which reminds them of being a child, and can often be quite sickening? Well this is my memory. Fish and chips on the beach, gritty sand between my toes, the sharp acid vinegar cutting through the fluffy potato... bliss.

Day 5-

Sunday at my house, is a very traditional occasion-and my father never scrimps on portions, always buying a whole chicken, or a whole joint of meat even if he’s only feeding himself! He often curries leftover chicken, which is a quick fix if you work late etc.

The hearty meal consisted of Organic chicken roasted with onions, lemon, garlic and herbs. It was beautifully moist without being soggy, and the skin was crisped to perfection (until I soaked it in gravy!) The roasties had a herb crust, and were lovely with their skins on. Carrot, Broccoli and roasted Parsnips made the perfect accompaniment to my favourite British institution.

As usual, I couldn’t resist having a sweet. So I popped across the road to the local shop, and I have to say- I’m no food snob. I do prefer making my own desserts, but I put my trust in the nation’s favourite relative- Aunt Bessie.

Her Bramley Apple Pie had a crisp, almost biscuity crust. Not too sweet, as you often find with shop bought puds, and a lovely bite to the filling (you could actually recognise the chunks of apple!) I was impressed! Smothered in Rodda’s Clotted Cream- you can’t go wrong.

Home to roost...

Apologies food fans. It's been a while since my last post- but I won't dwell on it.The point is, I'M BACK!

After travelling hundreds of miles to the beloved South-West (Cornwall to be precise),
I immediately immersed myself in ideas for features i'm going to write whilst i'm here at home.

I'm going to share with you the influences, the flavours, the landscapes that have shaped
my passions for poetry and food, and the historical implications associated with traditions such as the cream tea and of course- the Pasty.

But alas, I must rest. I'm full of apple crumble and clotted cream, fit to burst, so prepare for a
rich, nostalgic week, full of seafood and real ale!