It is hardly an original thing to say, but the world is truly split between two distinct types of individual; those who eat merely to live and those who live to eat. Unashamedly, I sit in the latter class, a self-confessed foodie.
Some people have a visual memory. Others use smell, trauma or speech to anchor their personal history. My own major life events are all punctuated by the taste & textures of the foods that I consumed at the time. I can remember the foods I consumed at my wedding, shortly before the birth of my first child and at my first day at school aged 4 ½. (It was a stew of unnamed origin followed by treacle tart).
My greatest memories surround the food I had when I was growing up. My mother's home-made walnut cake and plum tarts, for example. Delicious. I still hanker for those today especially when I have my “5 O’clock dip” in energy.
But it is the cooking of my now departed maternal grandmother that I treasured most. She spoke in an impenetrable Mid-European accent, which, combined with her unusual application of verbs meant that no-one, even my mother, could understand what exactly was going to be put on the plates in front of us. She had a vast array of dogs too, being a lady who could not look an animal in the face without wanting to adopt it. This meant that you often had to eat your meal with a German Shepherd actually lying on the table next to your knife and fork. Her kitchen smelled of dog hairs, onions and veal stock. Strangely, I rather liked that combination.
But what food it was. Her husband had been a master chef in Paris during the 1920’s and 30’s and had taught her well. Incredibly well. As I became older I started to realise what a talent we had in the family. I have grown to love wine. Yet her food was so good most of the time, that I could not bear to drink even the finest wines with her meals in case drinking it interfered with the sublime tastes of her cooking swimming around my mouth. She was the only cook whose roast beef could be actually spoiled by the addition of a glass of Chateau Lafitte!
I once saw her prepare a chicken which had been painstakingly selected from the local market in East London. After heating the stove (on which there was a dog needing to be shooed off), she placed the chicken in a large saucepan. Then added was a large onion, one glass of wine, some fresh herbs, two complete garlic bulbs and three, yes three, whole packets of creamy white Swiss butter. The whole concoction was boiled for around an hour & then placed in the oven with large peeled, waxy raw potatoes. An hour & a half later, the dish was removed from the oven to reveal a golden brown chicken, with the flesh falling off the bones. I can still taste it today. It was the richest creamiest thing I have ever eaten. And the best smelling. It is also probably the most statistically significant reason for my present cholesterol reading.
Now, such recipes are not for everyday consumption. But, without seeing such a ridiculously delicious (and fattening) meal made in front of you, how would a person be expected to replicate this? The only way family meals can be passed from generation to generation is if members are actually shown how these dishes are made. Each classic family meal has a unique texture, aroma and aftertaste. Yet nowadays, with the breakdown of the extended family unit, much of this is lost. The grandmother made mouth watering cookies with nuts, chocolates, cinnamon, brown sugar and butter. The grandson eats stale mini pieces of artificially flavoured cookie-shaped cardboard out of a plastic bag from the local mini-mart. Enough already!
The great secret of confident cooks is that good food, no, make that GREAT food, is often simpler and easier to make than bad, over-salted, overcooked rubbish. It should be cheaper, healthier and often faster to cook than buying and reheating these synthetic tasting prepared ready meals that we seem so fond of nowadays. After living in Spain and being forced to use fresh ingredients for four years now, I can hardly bear to eat ready meals anymore – the chemicals overpower the food. It is equivalent to listening to great music performed by awful musicians, or reading a newspaper article written by an illiterate ignoramus. I am like a former smoker in a room full of addicted filter-tip fanatics. I can't do it anymore.
The good news is that knowing how to confidently cook a handful of quick kitchen classics is an easily acquired skill now with our Videojug recipe section. Our leading food guru is the near genius cook, Omri Shahar, who has been chef at a number of Michelin star rated restaurants in the USA and France. His food is reminiscent of my grandmother's! Just watch the videos, rewind if necessary and print out the recipe. They all work. You know that because you can SEE them working in front of your eyes. Simply. Quickly. Efficiently. We continue to trawl round the world filming other great chefs in great restaurants for your benefit too.
From how to poach an egg to making a perfect soufflé, whether you are an experienced cook looking for new ideas, a professional chef or a complete novice, you'll find we have a unique resource for you. Use it, and taste the difference. Your life will change. There is no mystery at all, just technique and ingredients. Tell us what you think.
One final thing. If any of you have any requests for recipes, send them in to us by using our contact us page. We'll try and make those films for you. If you have any member of your family or friends that you think should be filmed making great food, then tell us about it. If we can, we'll send a camera crew round. If you prefer, send your films in and if they are good enough, we put them up on the service. What is more, for really great stuff, we might actually pay you!
Bon Appetit!
David Tabizel
Marbella, Spain, September 23 2006.
