food, and the end of the world.

Food is our most precious commodity. Sure- without petrol, we'd all have to do a bit more walking, and without crude oil we wouldn't have such fun waging war left right and centre. But without food (and water, of course), well- we just wouldn't get very much done at all. So given our overwhelming, unequivocal reliance on the stuff, it's tricky to understand why we chuck over one-third of all food produced globally in the bin. That's 1.3 billion tonnes, worth approximately US$ 1,000,000,000,000- one trillion dollars- and it looks like this:

The tiny little thing on the left is, one presumes, an average-sized man in a fetching red jumper.

5th June 2013 was World Environment Day, which this year chose to focus on the new UNEP and FAO campaign Think.Eat.Save. Reduce Your Foodprint. That this post comes a bit late is seemingly appropriate- hell, I might even pretend it was deliberate.  Because the point is, reducing our food waste isn't something we should only be thinking about for one day a year: it should be ingrained in our very being. Not only is it careless, it's stupid. And if you're a miserly, penny-pinching kind of person (aren't we all these days?), then it's downright senseless- you're throwing your hard-earned money into the bin. Given the technology we have at our disposal (fridges, freezers, vacuum seals...), and the fact that we still seem to be in the midst of a rather stubborn recession, it all seems rather silly, doesn't it? Hence why the UNEP are hell-bent on highlighting the moral implications of food waste (from before a crop is even a seedling, and a calf is but a glint in its mother's eye, right through to its seemingly inevitable future in a landfill site somewhere...), in a world where 900 million people go hungry every day. Put into it's bluntest terms, we simply cannot continue to produce and consume food the way we do today for much longer.

Bad distribution...?

But why ever not? Whilst it may be true that our reserves are rather low (so if every grain farmer in the world were to suddenly down tools to pursue dreams of a music career/opening a B&B/joining a monastery, we'd be left with just enough globally to survive for a month and a half), there IS, as it stands, more than enough food for everybody. Distribution has always been a problem- it's a well parroted fact that 80% of the world's food is indeed consumed by a mere 20%. But if you look towards the (alarmingly not-so-distant) future, between the fisheries sector and common agricultural practices in food production, it's all going rather wrong.

I can think of no appropriate caption for this, besides: great shirt.

In 2008, you might have picked up on something called the global food crisis. I say this without a hint of sarcasm, because unless you're a fairly avid reader of newspapers, it could easily have passed you by. Unless of course you lived in Haiti, or Burkina Faso, or Mozambique, where food prices increased by up to 100%, alongside those in dozens of other developing countries. According to the veritable institution of the World Bank, food prices rose globally by 83% between 2005-2008. For some staple crops, such as wheat, this figure was as high as 130%.

Whilst it had immediate causes (such as drought in 2005 and 2006, high oil prices, and an increase in meat consumption per capita), many saw the crisis as an indication of just how fragile our food production systems are, and how easily it can all descend into anarchy. Whilst we've already established that globally, there is enough to feed us, it's clear that our production systems need to change to prevent such crises from re-occurring.

So, if the case isn't that there are just too many damn people in the world for the food resources we have available, then why is everyone harping on about food waste so much? Hasn't technology allowed us to increase crop yields globally? In some ways, it certainly sounds as though we'll be AOK to carry on stuffing our faces, air-freighting our food, and throwing it away when it bores us. But the fact of the matter is that modern agricultural production has, quite simply, screwed up our planet a treat.

The BBC: A less veritable institution, perhaps, but still
largely reliable.

I'm no real eco-warrior- at least in the traditional sense. I wash my clothes, brush my hair (sometimes), get driven around in a car, and take as many plane trips a year as I can afford. But as I've said before, I pick my battles- food just happens to be the one I care about most. So the idea of future generations struggling to feed themselves because we've pushed our global food systems to breaking point seems, frankly, unpalatable. There is nothing sustainable about the field- (or sea) to-fork practices we have in place, and before long it all looks set to go very, very wrong. Within what I would hope to be my lifetime (though given my gin consumption, perhaps not...), the world's population levels are set to hit 9.1 billion- perhaps as early as 2050. Working on our current numbers, we'd need to increase food production by about 50%. But owing to a combination of climate change (caused in no small part by our own evil doings), water scarcity, and additional damage to the environment, this looks set to fall by about 25% anyway. So in real terms, we'll actually need to increase our food production levels by 75% within forty years, just to provide enough food to stop the human race from going extinct. As much as it all sounds like the plot to Will Smith's next disaster movie (do 'shotgun' rules apply to screenplay rights...?), it's the reality we face.

Let's go back to a happier, marginally more abundant time. Biology lessons, age twelve or thereabouts. If you weren't too busy setting fire to rubbers with Bunsen burners or flicking ink at your teacher's lab coat, you might recall some of the key principles of our fragile ecological system. In short, all aspects of the food chain and surrounding environment (soil, water, climate and insects) need supporting. If one takes a hit, they all go tits up. And had my teacher put it the same way, I might have paid more attention. The rare species of tree that feeds the insect, that feeds the bird that helps cross-pollinate the crop that feeds the cow gets ploughed down to make room for a nice rice paddy. Yes- there would be more rice, but in the mean time everything around it is being gradually wiped out. And if my laymans explanation of complex ecological systems was lacking in any real detail, it's probably because I have a history degree, not a biology one- sorry. I'm sure that's about right, though. It's worth bearing in mind that this is all concerning what happens on land; terrifyingly, global fish stocks have reduced by a whopping 75% due to uncontrolled overfishing, and the destruction of marine habitat. Something to think about next time you fancy a tuna sandwich.

A lemming. You'll notice he's not actually jumping
off a cliff, because they don't do that. Apparently
that's just the game.

So that's it- we're buggered. We may as well have one last slap-up dinner of foie gras and sushi, before throwing half of it in the bin and jumping off the cliff like lemmings. Because what the hell else can we do? Good question. Short of going tuna-hugging, or chaining yourself to the nearest paddy-adjacent tree, it's hard to imagine anything making much of an impact. But luckily there are hundreds of things you can do, and most of them are more about adopting a change in ethos than they are about doing anything dramatic or exhausting. There are enough irritating trends out there that seem to have no trouble catching on, so let's make this the next one- let's make  being frugal, imaginative or cunning with food the next Harlem Shake.

Eight things you can do to feel smug:

1. Don't ignore the contents of your fridge. It's all well and good deciding you fancy sausages for dinner- that's fine. Buy sausages. But take stock of what's on its last legs at the back of the fridge, too. That way, you can try to incorporate that stuff in as well.  You don't have to be desperate about things: it's unlikely that the entire contents of your fridge will come together in Blumenthal-like grace and gastronomic harmony, but the chances are you'll be able to use something. Try challenging yourself- see how little you can get away with buying to get yourself a good meal. Again, I'm by no means suggesting you live off a reheated mix of Sunday's roast potatoes, Tuesday's salmon and some questionable yoghurt, because this isn't a punishment- just a thought-provoking challenge.

2. Don't shop on an empty stomach. It's silly, and expensive.

3. Pre-empt your leftovers. That way, you're probably less likely to throw them in the bin, or force them unpleasantly down your throat in a 'waste not, want not' kind of way. It also means you can buy what you need to eke them out for their mid-week reincarnation at the same time. For instance...

* If you're buying cream, get some fruit. Cobble together some panna cottas. (Future blog plug, because I happen to have two pints of cream languishing in the corner of my own fridge. Short of drinking the stuff, I could think of nothing better to do than make half a dozen panna cottas and photograph them endlessly for next week's post. Bet you can't wait, eh?)

* If you're making risotto ((old blog post plug #1), get some mozarella and try to save a little bread for breadcrumbs. Make arancini.

* Got meat? Save a potato. Make a patty. (old blog post plug #2)

I could go on, but I'm not here to provide you with an exhaustive compendium of leftover ideas- use your own head, and your own tastebuds. And, as always- a decent store cupboard (old blog post plug #3) will make things immeasurably easier.

4. IGNORE BEST BEFORE DATES because they're bollocks. Judging your food should be instinctive, not dictated to you by some off-the-cuff, back-covering, law-suit-avoiding 'BBE' casually stamped across a piece of cellophane. The 'Best Before' is no reflectionof how safe the food is, just a prediction by the supermarkets of when the goods, might, maybe, start declining in quality. In short, they scaremonger consumers into mistrusting their own judgement, throwing it away, and hopping off down to Tesco for its replacement. So here's a handy guide to determine the freshness and quality of your own food: if it has fur, is practically moving and smells like the inside of a post-Glastonbury tent, then you can bin it. Otherwise, it's probably OK.

Fresh.

5. Store things properly. Keep meat cold until a couple of hours before you cook it (allowing it to come to room temperature does help it cook more evenly though...), keep your veg and salads cool (NOT arctic), and keep your bread covered. Learn to use your freezer (though admittedly, this is a tad hypocritical of me: I own a beautiful but impractical fridge with an ice box just large enough for frozen stock and a bottle of vodka. Or it would be, had I not broken the door off and allowed the whole thing to freeze over entirely).  

6.  Master the art of jam, soup and chutney-making. For these are the holy trinity of imaginative leftovers, and no one knows (or cares) how ropey a strawberry/courgette/onion looked before it ws given a new lease of life in one of the above.

7. Eat local produce. Yes, I've whinged about it before, and I'll whinge about it again because I'm an ardent supporter of eating the stuff that grows here. It will help reduce your carbon footprint, it'll be seasonal, and it will be cheaper, owing to the lack of plane, train and automobile faffing involved in getting it here (unlike its Mexican/Peruvian/Kenyan alternative). Plus it will support your local economy. Try Pick Your Own (old blog post plug #4), and go for some of the gnarly stuff; we're far too shallow when it comes to our food. You can feel smug about restoring social justice to the asparagus world if you pick the 'special' looking one, and it'll taste just as good.

8. Sign a petition every once in a while. Preferably not one generated by the EDL, but something about bumblebees. Or palm oil. Or trout farming- anything that stirs your heart a little. It can't hurt.

There you go: eight easy steps to saving the world. Will Smith makes it look so damn hard...

And now, to really drive the point home, watch this:

I really must say thank you to Nick Nuttall, director of the UN Environment Programme, and an all-round helpful man. So, thank you Nick.

happy fridge-raiding,

mrs hunt.x

the chicken post

It's just occurred to me that the daily act of feeding myself has turned into an ethical minefield; the list of everyday commodities that come tainted by child-slavery, carcinogens or stomach-turning welfare standards is now as long as my arm, and short of going all Good Life on you (admittedly tricky to do, in a two bedroom flat with no garden...) I'm unlikely to get through the day unscathed. But, like good ol' Gwyneth Paltrow, who this week declared life was about finding a balance- somewhere 'between cigarettes and tofu'- I've decided to pick my battles. Which means that, theoretically, I'm OK to sip on a Diet Coke (courtesy of evil conglomerate Coca Cola, purveyor of aspartame-laden soft drinks, and an empire with a human rights record that would make the late Kim Jong Il blush), while I rant about the perils of chicken consumption without feeling like too much of a hypocrite.

Garden: obligatory.

I have a love/hate relationship with chicken. In a restaurant, it's rarely anything other than a dry, overcooked bit of breast meat that's been thrown haphazardly into an unimaginative, bland-looking dish. I judge those who order chicken out quite harshly. I can't help it- I'm a bad person, who's screaming on the inside- 'BE. MORE. INTERESTING.' Which, I appreciate, is grossly unfair. Chicken at home however, is another matter. Given a bit of love, time and attention, it's juicy, flavoursome, and has the potential to be infinitely more interesting. Regardless- chicken has become part of our nation's staple diet- it's cheap, familiar, and versatile. But with its popularity comes a vague, gnawing unease- an awareness that the three quid chicken we find in our supermarket chiller cabinet probably has a more sinister past than we'd care to consider. How many of us have actually stopped to question how an animal can be reared, slaughtered and sold for £3 at a profit? It's an uncomfortable notion, because deep down, we know the deal... the only way this is economically viable is by employing the lowest welfare standards imaginable, and fiddling with the meat a bit along the way. Chickens, you see, are at an unfortunate evolutionary disadvantage: there are limits to how poorly you can treat a cow- how many you can squeeze into a single square foot (none, presumably), and how low the standards you adhere to can be before their meat becomes inedible. Chickens, on the other hand, are conveniently 'stackable', and the regard for their welfare seems to fall of the radar a little. Perhaps there's something fundamentally less 'human' about them that de-sensitizes us to their maltreatment?

However, I do like to think that the great British public are becoming more aware of their food provenance. Since the dawning realisation that a 99p box of burgers might contain one or two (hundred) things that aren't that good for you, there seems to have been a shift in attitudes to food- and it's well overdue. So I'm going to take full advantage, and hope that people will be a bit more receptive than they ordinarily would to the following:

Things You Probably Already Know About Chicken, But Are Choosing To Ignore

...something that may well come across as a deeply pious, occasionally smug rant about bad poultry.

First up, I feel I ought to clarify something. I am not rich. I do not have endless reserves of cash to fritter away on luxury ingredients for seven meals a week. I'm a 26 year old, trying to eke out a career in an unforgiving, over-worked and under-paid industry, who still has to rely on a part-time waitressing job to pay the bills (and for the food shop). So for anyone reading this that thinks having an ethical backbone, or buying quality ingredients to make better-tasting food is only the reserve of the financially secure, you're wrong. It's about making choices- I buy my meat from a butchers. It is, after all, what they're there for. Yes, it's probably more expensive, but I can look at it properly, and ask questions about where it's come from. And if I can avoid putting another penny in Tesco's pocket by doing so, then all the better. In short, if you're on a tight budget consider spending just a bit more on your cut of meat, and then use your leftovers more imaginativley (old blog post plug #1) or go vegetarian for a meal or two (old blog post plug #2).

Now that's out the way, let's get down to the first, and biggest, hurdle to buying decent chicken- the jargon. It's ridiculous. 'Free range'... 'organic'... 'welfare assured'... Which, if any, will leave you with a clear conscience? With a bit of (thoroughly depressing) research, I've cobbled together this- a glossary, of sorts, to help you decode your poultry.

1. Traditional Free-Range/ Total Freedom Chicken:

A happy chicken.

This is as reassuring as it sounds. The chicken breeds will have been chosen for their slow growth, and will only have been put away at night, because having your entire flock decimated by the neighbourhood fox clearly defeats the purpose. These chickens will have lived for at least 80 days before being slaughtered (more than twice as long as it takes intensively farmed chickens to reach market weight), have been in limited flock sizes, and will have been fed proper food. They will also have been dry plucked and hung to improve flavour (more on that in a minute).

2. Free Range:

A confusing term, and not necessarily as happy as it sounds. It's not as strong a guarantee of welfare as Traditional Free Range is, but birds must have been allowed to roam outside for at least half their life. They must have been fed grain, and will have reached at least 58 days in age, in limited flock sizes. So, not bad. There's worse to come.

3. Freedom Foods:

Established by the RSPCA, this label has three standards: free range, organic, and indoor. All are protected by rules that ensure a good diet, comfortable housing, freedom from pain, discomfort and mental suffering, and the ability to display natural behaviour. Like flapping.

4. Organic:

From 'organic' certified farms. This label is no guarantee of decent welfare standards, but sounds posh and considered enough to make you think it is.

Sad Chickens. No amount of Instagram-ing could make them
look happy.

5. Red Tractor:

90% of our chickens are Red Tractor certified. These birds have been subject to independent investigations, and they offer a degree of traceability. But that's as much reassurance as this friendly little logo can provide. Most of these, and all other intensively farmed birds, have never seen daylight- and certainly not outside the confines of their overcrowded 'barns.' I use the inverted commas because the very word 'barn' has the strange habit of conjuring up a delightfully quaint image- one that sadly has no place in this discussion. These birds are kept in flocks approaching 5000 in number (allowing them less than an A4 page of paper in room to manoeuvre) and their wings and beaks are clipped to prevent them from killing one another, as they are naturally inclined to do in such stressful, over-crowded conditions. They are fed on a diet of poor quality grain and antibiotics, and spent most of their time lying in their own excrement- unable to move because they are grossly overweight, and have deformed or broken legs. Besides which, there's not really anywhere for them to go. You know the brown splodges you see on chicken legs if you buy a bird whole? Yeah, they're ammonia burns.

6. Corn Fed:

Don't even get me started. The most that can be said for Corn Fed chickens is that they tend to be free range... but what good is that when you've been forced to eat so much grain that your legs have broken underneath you? 

So, now you're suitably informed (not to mention disgusted, and possibly a little depressed...), what should you be looking for in a good bird?

Skin: Chicken skin should be dry, and a creamy yellow colour. This means the bird has been dry-plucked and hung. Slimy, wet skin indicates the bird has been wet-plucked- as have 95% of all British poultry. Feathers have been ripped from the body with jets of water, which then leave moisture-filled holes that are a haven for bacteria. This, in turn, means the bird cannot be hung, for fear of contamination. Dry-plucked, well-hung (snigger) birds mean crispy skin, and tasty, tender flesh.

Meat: The flesh should be a golden yellow colour (not the jaundiced, sickly yellow of a corn-fed bird, or the pink and wet of an intensively farmed chicken). It should be free from purple splodges, as these only occur when an animal has been traumatised and the blood capillaries burst. If you're OK with the idea of eating a terrified chicken so long as it tastes alright, then you should know that this results in a flesh that's as tough and chewy as old boots. There should also be a decent layer of fat under the skin.

Natural...?

Feet: These need to look well-worked (a good indication that they've actually ventured outside), and free from those delightful brown splodges we talked about.

Eggs: Because they come from chickens. Pale yellow yolks mean a sad chicken, with a miserable diet. Buy local, if you can.

Bones: These should be dense, not weak and splintery.

Size: Talking about breasts, specifically. If they're the size of dearly departed Lolo Ferrari's, we can be fairly certain something untoward has occurred- either gross over-feeding, added water or, most likely, both.

That's it- I'm done. This isn't supposed to be a one-woman crusade, and I'm under no illusions that I'm about to single-handedly alter the mindset of the chicken-eating masses. You'll notice I haven't included dozens of grisly, harrowing photographs; I'm not trying to scaremonger, just enlighten. And if you can't have a whinge on something as self-indulgent as your own food blog, when can you, eh? Besides, if my self-satisfied rantings get just one person to think twice the next time they pick up a 79p box of eggs, or a packet of slimy 'Economy' chicken breasts, then I'm enough of a martyr to say it's been worthwhile ;)

In a couple of days, I'll have a good roast chicken recipe for you, but in the meantime, here's your reward for staying with me on this one... Enjoy.

mrs hunt.x

middle-class carb loading

Thirty days ago, I gave up bread and potato. Anyone fortunate enough to have endured five minutes in my company will have no doubt picked up on this; it's probably something to do with my constant, slightly smug lamentations that run something along the lines of 'Oh, gnocci! How I would love some gnocci right now...', or 'How I do miss freshly toasted sourdough.' I always had a sneaking suspicion I was irritatingly middle-class about my eating habits, and this has all but confirmed it... unsurprisingly, I am yet to crave a chip butty. If I'm honest, I don't even like bread and potato that much- I'd have been doing myself a bigger favour by giving up gin for Lent, but that's a bit like asking Frankie Boyle to give up the 'c' word- it's in no danger of happening any time soon, and life would be all the more boring for it.

I could have siezed the opportunity by transforming my body into a starch-free temple for forty days and nights, but there's little fun in that (well, Miley Cyrus seems pretty damn miserable these days...) and to put it bluntly, I just don't have the willpower. Instead, I tried to start thinking more imaginatively about the carbs I use to bulk up meals, and if you do the same, you'll probably realise that you too have been falling for the same handful (in one form or another) day in, day out. There's not necessarily anything wrong with the oldies- a potato has endless scope for reinvention, and you just can't mop up your roast lamb gravy with a yorkshire. It's wrong. So we use big hunks of doorstop bread instead. But for the sake of variety, let's mix things up a bit with:


Five Alternative Carbs that are Marginally More Interesting Than Your Average Potato




1.  Polenta

POLPO- A Venetian Cookbook (Of Sorts)- is a posession of mine that is now so heavily coated in the grime, oil and unidentifiable, slightly crusted splashes that are the mark of any good cookbook, some recipes are barely legible. To borrow a quote from them (in the hope that I don't get sued- I still haven't gotten around to working out what copyright laws really entail...), polenta is 'a sort of savoury porrige, a bit like semolina, that can be served as a gloop, or set, sliced and grilled.' Which sounds 'rustic' at best, and 'hideous' if we choose to be more honest about things. Made from maize, it's cheap as chips, but- as promised- a bit more interesting. Though seeing as it was the staple foodstuff of European peasantry for a few centuries, it can hardly be described as middle-class. Its taste is hard to describe for the uninitiated- it lies somewhere between starchy cream and olive oil, which probably doesn't serve as a particularly appetising or illuminating description.

Polenta is also one of the few foodstuffs that have an easy-cook variety I feel I can happily advocate (aforementioned 'middle-class-ness' often prevents me from doing this with other alternatives, but this is no Pot Noodle). Polenta Svelta- the instant stuff- will save you a good forty minutes of dull clockwise-stirring (or anti-clockwise- just make sure you don't mix and match, or it'll be as lumpy as gruel- and this dish needs all the help it can get in the aesthetics department). Just follow the pack instructions- without skimping on the salt- and you'll have yourself wet polenta. Excellent with a few shavings of choice parmesan. If you fancy something more solid that perhaps appears more 'palatable', allow it to set in a well-oiled (or cling-filmed) dish so it's about an inch deep. In the fridge is fine. Then slice, place rough-side down first on a smoking hot griddle until it boasts some attractive striations, and warm through in the oven for 4-5 minutes.

2. Roasted Butternut Squash

The sweet, fleshy interior of a butternut squash is a wonderful thing. It marries so well with a huge variety of flavours, and can bring a bit of balance to any salinous, spicy or sour dish in an instant. If you want the unadorned version, just heat some olive oil in an oven tray at 180 degrees while you peel your squash (and when I say carefully, I don't intend to sound patronising. It's simply because I've nearly lost fingers to these buggers...), and slice into something appealing. I like crescents, rough, mouth-sized cubes, or occasionally parsnip-shaped slivers. You can roast your squash with a bit of salt and pepper, or a well-thought out mix of... cumin, sesame seeds, dried chilli, harissa, paprika, almonds, apple, pancetta, cinnamon, ginger, rosemary, thyme, sage, honey, coriander seeds, pear, garlic, chorizo, or maple syrup... though not all at once. That would taste... confused.

But butternut squash is only in season from September through to late January, so you'll have to wait. Sorry.

3. Celeriac Mash

In season for just a few more weeks, celeriac  is a good alternative to mashed potato. Or, you could mix the two if you happen to have a dodgy-looking potato languishing in a corner somewhere. Or perhaps a couple of gnarly old carrots. Because it's mash- it doesn't need to look pretty, and you can throw anything you like it.

Cover your celeriac with milk, chuck in a few peeled garlic cloves, and simmer until tender. Then drain the milk, keeping it handy somewhere. Whizz with a hand blender if you have one, or go old-school and do it with a manual masher- though the end result won't be as smooth unless you really commit to the job... At this point, you need to add in enough of the milk to get the consistency you want, enough butter to prompt a coronary by merely glancing at the stuff, and then some flavour. Salt and pepper, obviously- but you could add in a bit of grated nutmeg and powdered ginger if you fancy something spiced and warming, or wholegrain mustard- perhaps even a little apple chutney, if you're hankering after something a little less heady, but retaining that punch.

4. Interesting Rice

I think it goes without saying that I do not mean Uncle Ben's here. Try as it might, regardless of what exotic ingredients they're chucking in it's always going to have the bland, slightly metallic tang of microwaved rice. Learn to do it properly, on a hob, and you'll never look back. Maybe it's because I threw my microwave out years ago, vowing to never use one again, that I'm averse. Or maybe it's because it just tastes crap. Who knows.

Brown rice, with a gratuitous sugar mouse.

There's a trick with rice, and I don't mind admitting that it's something I've only really gotten to grips with in the last year... Rinse it first, thoroughly. This gets rid of any excess starch. Then bring it to the boil with twice the amount of HEAVILY SALTED water, or- even better- stock, and a few bits thrown in for good measure. Use your imagination- bay leaves, lime zest, peppercorns, cardammon pods- anything you think might compliment your protein. Stir ONCE, and leave it bubbling away on a medium to high heat. You'll need a snug-fitting lid, and a heavy based pan, and they'll ensure that you don't end up with stodgy, singed grains at the end of it all. It should take around 15-20 minutes, at which point just remove the lid, fluff up with a fork and check the liquid levels- there should be just a touch left. Replace the lid, and turn off the heat. Leave it to steam this way for another 5-10 minutes (but it will stay warm for another hour or so like this).

Try coconut rice- just replace half of your water or stock with coconut milk, and grate in some creamed coconut. Or make some fancy garnishes- fried garlic and shallots are always a winner, as are pistachio nuts, coriander, friend mint leaves, freshly fried chilli, sultanas and raisins. And think about the type of rice you're using too- I love brown rice, as it adds a nice nutty dimension to a meal.

So there you go- pimped up rice.

5. Beans

Beans, beans, good for the heart... We all know the rest. But it shouldn't put you off eating them, because they're so damn versatile. Cold and miserable? Have a Tuscan Sausage and Bean stew. Basking in the sun? Unlikely, but have a Borlotti, courgette and lemon salad with shaved Parmesan anyway. It'll make it feel more like summer, even when you're in the midst of a freak snow-storm, I promise.

I'm not going to bore you with endless bean recipes. For one, because I plan on sharing my aforementioned Tuscan Stew with you at some point anyway. If you want recipes now, I suggest buying POLPO's book. But primarily, it's because beans are something you can be instinctive with- follow your tastebuds, and you'll probably cobble together something just lovely.


Happy carb-loading,




mrs hunt.x

an ode to butter

In case it had escaped your notice, this is not a diet blog. It's not even a healthy eating blog- it's just an eating blog. To me, food isn't just fuel- whatever 'healthy eating gurus' such as Gillian McKeith et al. say. It's worth pointing out that I also find the idea of taking nutritional advice from someone who looks so haggard and, frankly, miserable, absurd. Food is there to be enjoyed- there's nothing more satisfying than sharing a beautiful meal with people you care about, and the contentment that follows- a feeling that all is right with the world. A feeling, presumably, that you won't quite achieve from tucking into Quorn (other pretend mince is probably available...), washed down with a side of pallid, marge-coated bread.

Now seems as good an opportunity as any to embark on a bit of a rant. Not about chocolate this time- it's 'health foods' (note the inverted commas) that are in the firing line. By now, most faddy January diets are out the window. After three weeks surviving solely on maple syrup or fruit juice, people tend to slip all too easily back into the same food routines, and fall for the same old 'health' traps- time and time again. So with Lent beginning tomorrow, I figured I would use the chance to compile a guide to:

Things You Think You Should Be Eating That Are Actually Really Bad For You, And What You Should Probably Swap Them For

For the sake of credibility, I should mention these aren't just my musings; I haven't simply decided that since I happen to detest the taste of margarine, we should all avoid it. Steve Harrison, a very close friend of mine, (whose job title I've never actually managed to nail down- the Chandler Bing of the fitness/nutrition world, if you will...) has long been indulging me with lengthy rants about how us Brits in particular have food so very wrong. And having done a bit more research of my own, I'm inclined to agree. I don't just mean our capacity for over-cooking steaks, or our nationwide obsession with microwave meals- and all that's without even mentioning the horse meat. I'm talking about the so-called 'health-food' industry, something we spend millions of pounds on each year.

And so, here are just three things you could try giving up for Lent, if not permanently, and what you should be eating instead- alternatives that billions of pounds, and many years of marketing have gone into convincing you are bad for your health.

Fake Health Food #1: 

Margarine

Can I put this here? Will I
get sued? We'll see, I suppose.

.. and other veg oils, for that matter. We've only had the technology to extract oils from crops (and thereby make margarine or other synthetic spreads) for 150 years. It's not something our bodies are well adapted to breaking down, and without sounding like a  hypochondriac, can cause cell mutations, and clog arteries. It's also been linked to skin cancer. But more importantly- and something the foodie side of me is more preoccupied with than anything else- it tastes crap. It smells crap. It has none of the beauty or richness of butter, and will always be a pale substitute.

And What You Should Replace It With...

Well, BUTTER. Obviously.

It tastes... like butter. Which is the point, surely? It also contains Lecithin, antioxidants, vitamin A, vitamin E, Selenium (all good things- google them if you don't believe me), and cholesterol. Which is also good. Yes, good. Flora and the like may spend a great deal of time and money telling you otherwise, but it's all rubbish. See here, here and here,  and spread the word.

Fake Health Food #2:

Soya/Tofu

Don't even get me started. Again, I have the foodie objection to proffer (it's tasteless, has the texture of a thirty year old rubber band, and looks about as appetising as one too...), but for me, it's far more complex an argument than just this. 

I won't go into huge detail about the legal wranglings of Monsanto (a company that have patented 'soy' and sue anyone that tries to grow and sell it themselves), but it's well worth reading up on if you're interested- if only to hear about Oprah putting them in their place like only she could. For now, let's just focus on the nutritional side: The fermented stuff- the staple of Asian cuisine for thousands of years- is lovely. Go for it. Who doesn't love soul-soothing Miso every once in a while? But the processed, unfermented stuff that's used in cheap fake meat brands and other processed foods? No. Avoid it like the plague, because it interferes with digestion and pancreatic function, and contains high levels of aluminium, which is toxic to the nervous system and the kidneys. Since mine are pretty busy filtering copious amounts of gin from my system, I wouldn't want to add to the burden any further, even if the stuff did taste half decent. I don't know about anyone else.

And What You Should Replace It With...

Meat. Lots and lots of meat. Or fish. Just protein, really- it's all good for you, and if you genuinely do want to lose weight, what you should be basing your diet on. Ignore the Daily Mail's ramblings about steak leading to premature death/unemployment/the end of 'Great' Britain as we know it, because again, it seems to come down to some very successful indoctrination (not to mention bad journalism). Meat is good.

And if you're vegetarian? Well, just stick to the natural, unprocessed stuff.

Fake Health Food #3:

Cereal

Sticking a moderately attractive, skinny brunette in a nice red dress on the front does not a health food make. In fact, if there was to be an award  for 'the most unhealthy product to have somehow permeated the mass market by pretending to be healthy' (it's catchy, give me that) then 'healthy' cereal brands would be neck and neck with margarine. I'm not saying they're worse than soy, I'm merely noting that both have been inordinately successful at convincing 99% of the British populace that they're good for us. 

Surviving on a diet that is two-thirds grain based (if you're mental enough to try eating cereal for two of your three meals a day, as the marketing push of a popular brand would have you doing, that is), which in itself is 77% carbohydrate, and 1/4 sugar is clearly not going to do you any good. That much is obvious. We need to get our heads around the idea that whilst cereal isn't excessively bad for you- it does have vitamins and fibre- it's no health food, and should be regarded as a treat in much the same way sweets or crisps would be.

And What You Should Replace It With...

A fry-up. The works- egg, bacon, black pudding, sausage, mushroom, tomato... all cooked in butter or olive oil. Eggs are one of the best things you can be giving your body, and the fats here are all good. If you really feel like being healthy, forgo the toast and baked beans.

So I hope that brightens up your February- or at least assuages any lingering post Christmas/failed diet January guilt.

And if not, next week I'll be doing cake. That'll make everything better.

mrs hunt.x

the ultimate store-cupboard

Even if it does take me
twenty minutes to locate
 what I'm looking for,
 it's MY store cupboard,
 and I love it.

I'm one of those people that has the habit of buying one of the following items on every shopping trip, in the full knowledge that I have at least three in back-up at home. But still, for the most part these are non-perishable- so space permitting, go crazy...

Anchovies- On toast. Melted into sauces. Clumsily yanked out of the jar when you're drunk, hungry, and in need of a juicy little salt-kick. Or maybe that's just me.

Capers- Another glorious multi-tasker, these are perfect for adding texture and balance to any dish that might otherwise be a bit on the rich side. Or, chuck a load over any kind of cured fish, put a dollop of creme fraiche on the side with a heaping of peppery rocket, and hey presto. A pretentious-looking lunch.

Olives- With the first two store cupboard essentials, these form a Holy Trinity of sorts. Just ask any passing Neopolitan, if you can find one.

Goose/Duck Fat- pricey, but ESSENTIAL for any roast potato worth its salt.  Lard and vegetable oil don't even come close. If you don't fancy paying four quid for the tinned stuff, just pop round to your local butchers. Give them a cheeky little smile, ask very politley, and I'm sure they'll oblige with a good lump of tasty fat for far less than Mr. Tesco would ask of you.

Parmesan/Gran Padano/Parmigiano Regiano etc - Now, when I say Parmesan etc, I mean etc. Any kind of hard, piquant, peppery cheese is a must-have, in my house at least. Swap for manchego (derived from ewe's milk instead of cow's) or anything else you fancy. It's probably also worth mentioning that most hard cheeses of this nature freeze excellently- just pull out a nugget, and grate/shave/whatever, and it defrosts instantly. Pop it back in, and it'll keep for ages. My mother-in-law taught me that. Useful, eh?

Chilli- I'm a heat-fiend. I love anything with a kick- the hotter, the better- and I am yet to be trounced in any variety of hot sauce shooting contest. So needless to say, there's rarely a shortage of scoville-providing goodies in my kitchen. It is worth baring in mind that you never really know what you're getting heat wise until you test a chilli- some of the varieties considered 'medium' in heat can often turn out to be disappointingly mild. I always like to have a tiny little nibble first, just to gauge how much I should be using. That said, I wouldn't suggest trying this for any of the super spicy varieties. Scotch Bonnets burn. And, as always, WASH YOUR HANDS AFTER. I won't divulge any of the more intimate nasty experiences I've had after failing to do this, but be warned.

Oh, and chillis both dry and freeze quite nicely.

Lemons/Limes- Perhaps it has something to do with being wife to a mixologist. Or maybe it's because I'm overly fond of a nice G&T. Either way, lemons and limes are essential. You can even cook with them, if you must.

Garlic- Need I really justify this? No? Thought not.

Cheap Red/White Wine- Now nothing so good that you'll be tempted to drink it, but nothing so crap it'll turn a hearty chilli into a vinegary mess. Whilst wine can be used at the iffy point where you wouldn't really mind drinking it- you know, if you were desperate, don't be mistaken into thinking anything with a decent ABV will do. If you have a couple of bottles knocking around somewhere, you're only a few steps away from whipping up a decent pasta sauce or wintery stew.

Palm Sugar- Found pretty easily in ethnic food shops, markets, or even some bigger supermarkets (if you must), palm sugar is fantastic for anything Asian or Carribbean-inspired. With a bit of lime, chilli and oil, you have a beautiful little dressing for a Thai beef salad. Obviously you can just use normal sugar, but where's the fun in that?

'Tipo 00'- the strong stuff

Caster Sugar- Just for those impromptu baking whims. Don't fool yourself by thinking any sugar will suffice- granulated won't dissolve properly in most cakes, biscuits or sweet pastries, and whereas anything dark might compliment a ginger or chocolate cake, it will just overpower Grandma's Victoria Sponge. So if in doubt, opt for caster.

Flours- Plain and self raising are, of course, store cupboard staples, but I always like to mix things up with a Spelt or Buckwheat. Both are really good for savoury recipes (galettes with goats cheese and chorizo are a personal favourite), but are also suitable for anyone with a gluten intolerance. Happy days.

Eggs- Please, forgive the rant. It will be a short one, because I'm planning an entire post dedicated to whinging about the awareness of food provenance (it's something us Brits in particular are double-crap at...) So- eggs. PLEASE please please, DO NOT ever buy from caged or battery farmed hens. Aside from the fact that the conditions these chickens are kept in are unbearably cruel, the resulting eggs are pale, tasteless little lumps of horribleness. Just shell out the extra- what? 30p?? And get some from hens that are free to roam around and be happy. Or better still, get them from a farm. Or a farm shop. Or my dad- he has loads of hens, and the eggs are big, juicy, with tasty golden yolks.

Result: you get nice eggs, keep a clear conscience, and people power will help destroy a cruel industry that's mean to chickens.

NB. Don't bother putting eggs in the fridge. They are almost always better off cooked from room temperature, and cold egg whites are a lot harder to fluff up. They'll keep just as long, promise.

Maldon Sea Salt- It has no preservatives (so none of that weird bitter taste some cheap cooking salts have), looks pretty, and is fun to smash up. It also has the added bonus of being British, which is always nice.

Virgin and Extra-Virgin Olive Oil- Don't just stick to what you know with oils. Virgin is best for cooking (don't waste the good extra-virgin stuff- the taste just disappears as soon as it heats up), but extra-virgin is where you can have fun experimenting. Different countries and regions can have a huge impact on the taste of the oil that's being produced. For instance, as a rule, Cypriot olive oils tend to be grassier, and the Italians more fruity and mellow. But shop around, and don't be afraid of spending a bit more on a nice bottle, because it's definitely worth it. Remember to keep in a cool, dark-ish cupboard (or else in a tinted bottle) to stop it going dodge.

Rapeseed Oil- It's British, it's a nice colour, and it tastes lovely.

I wouldn't recommend eating Daffodils.

Paprika- Buy the smoked stuff in the pretty tins, and sprinkle it over anything for a bit of warmth and spice- it really is very versatile, and can save any casserole or chicken dish from blandness. Nutmeg and cinnamon can be used to a similar end, in a pinch. Neither have the same smoky heat, but both will help create some warmth. Personally, I like my paprika over griddled asparagus with olive oil and lemon zest.

Cumin (Ground and Seeds)- Essential for any kind of Indian or Middle-Eastern cooking. It has such a distinct taste, and it can really help to transform a meal in a jiffy. Seeds can be bashed up and fried lightly in oil to give an aromatic base to anything else you want to throw into the pan. Cumin and root veg- especially carrots or parsnips- are a match made in heaven, and it goes just as well with lamb and (perhaps surprisingly) shellfish.

Fennel Seeds- Use with lamb, fish, chicken, pork, or anything that reminds you of the sunshine.

Mustard Seeds- Black or yellow, these are great at imparting flavour into oil before you chuck your meat in, and help add a bit of heat and pepperiness into Indian cooking. You can also get creative and make your own mustards, if you feel inclined.

Chicken Stock- I really do believe that people don't poach chicken enough, and here's why it should be done more: 1) it keeps it so moist and lovely, whereas most other forms of cooking tend to dry it out, 2) it's a super laid back way of cooking, but really helps saturate the chicken with the flavour of whatever it is you're sticking in the water with it, 3) you get a nice big pan of stock at the end of it. Stick in a freezer bag, and use in soups, risottos, and sauces. I don't care what Marco Pierre White says, I seriously doubt he'd pick a bloody Knorr cube over home made stock any day.

Rices- Long grain, arborio risotto rice, and basmati. Cook it up in your chicken stock, and don't use the microwave stuff. Yes, it's quicker to turn to Uncle Ben, but it's also expensive and, let's face it, crap.

Now this is by no means a definitive list of the world's most useful ingredients, and it certainly isn't going to see you through any kind of nuclear holocaust (though I'm fairly certain I could survive off anchovies alone for a year or so...) That said, everything in here will help to provide a pretty solid basis to some decent meals. So what more can I say? Happy shopping!

mrs hunt.x