It had been such a long time since I’d filmed something for the blog that I’d almost completely forgotten how. So please forgive the odd ramble as I take you through some of the food and food-related things I’ve loved in the first part of this year, from dazzling sweet-sour citrus to two very good books, afternoon snacks, and a new and slightly sticky obsession…
You can read Part One (my fridge) of this series here, Part Two – my friend Emma in Tbilisi’s fridge – here and Part Three – my friend Juliet’s – here.
My friend Mehrunnisa and I met through work – as in the day jobs – and I can’t quite remember how we discovered a mutual love of food as a medium for stories and histories. Suffice to say we have discussed a range of topics related to our shared interest, although now that we work in completely different departments, snatching a quick five minutes to talk cookbooks, politics and culture is a little more challenging. Mehrunnisa is the author of the lyrical blog come•con•ella, which explores her heritage through food. You can also find her on Twitter and her Instagram account showcases her love of (and eye for) food, light and shadow, and urban architecture.
Who do you cook for?
my husband and i
Do you have a cooking philosophy or approach of any kind?
i think of my cooking in terms of ease and practicality. it is only when i got married and had to cook several nights a week that i realised what mama meant about the drudgery and boredom of day to day to eating. this is especially true for those of us who are tasked with cooking. with that in mind, it has to be quick but have a mix of flavours and textures.
Where do you buy your groceries?
a combination of places. i do the bulk of my groceries on ocado. this means things like canned beans, grains and lentils. i buy fruit and vegetables at my local grocer and sometimes through farm drop or farm direct. meat and fish come from the latter as well. or from the local butcher depending on how organised i am.
Tell us a little bit about your kitchen (including fridge and cupboards). Is it minimal or cluttered?
my kitchen counters are home to a few gadgets, most of which were bought by my husband. so we have a kmix (which was a christmas present), a bread bin, a nespresso machine and a basic food processor that has an s-blade, a blender and grating attachments. other than that there are are jars for coffee, tea and sugar plus peanuts and assorted spice, oil and vinegar bottles. i have a small cupboard for tins and dried goods plus a small metal bin for grains. flours and nuts compete for space on a bar trolley that is also home to jars of home made jams and chutneys.
What’s in your fridge?
a block or two of hard cheeses, some condiments like sriracha, miso and mango chutney. milk. i always have yoghurt handy plus a tub or two of ricotta. the vegetable drawer usually holds onions, lemons, some soft herbs, ginger, garlic and chillies that make your eyes water.
What are the three most useful ingredients in your kitchen?
yoghurt, eggs and tinned pulses.
What three foods are always in your fridge?
yoghurt, sriracha and ricotta.
Is anything currently missing from your fridge?
something is always missing…
What ‘treats’ do you keep in your fridge (or cupboards)?
some manner of dark or super milk chocolate. on days that i bake, there will be cookies or biscuits in a recycled biscuit tin.
What foods were always in the house when you were growing up?
bread. some manner of baked goods as mama was a prolific baker. large bars of cadbury’s fruit and nut chocolate. there was always a big dish of lentils and a meat based curry. whatever fruit was in season.
What three gadgets or tools are most important/helpful for you when cooking?
microplane grater, the s-blade attachment for the food processor and a mortar and pestle
If you had to make yourself a meal with the food in your fridge (and pantry) right now, without going to the shops, what would you make?
i would make a cumin spiced cous cous with chickpeas and caramelised onions. i would add plenty of chopped soft herbs and the flesh of preserved lemon. i would serve it with harissa yoghurt and some toasted almonds.
When there really is nothing in your fridge, where do you go out to eat?
we order in from a local chinese delivery. we will have chicken corn soup (because it tastes so very much like the one we used to have in pakistan) followed by ma po tofu for me and some sweet and sour dish for my husband. he will of course eat a fair share of my ma po tofu as well. Save
I haven’t written in a bit because the past couple of weeks have involved the following: preparing to travel (including trying to finish off as much work as possible before leaving the office); travelling and enjoying myself enormously; recovering from travelling. My travels took me to New York, where I visited the Statue of Liberty, strolled around Central Park, and ate some amazing food. You can read the first instalment of my adventures in the Big Apple here.
Since back, I have absolutely devoured Barbara Kingsolver’s magnificently inspirational Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. Kingsolver is primarily known as a novelist, with The Poisonwood Bibleprobably being her most immediately recognisable work (true to form, I haven’t read it, but I’ve read The Lacuna which, if nothing else, introduced me to the concept of the lacuna). (That sounds flippant. It was very good). Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, however, is something like a memoir, something like a work of journalism, something like a handbook for seasonal eating. It follows Kingsolver and her family as they move to her husband’s farm in Appalachia and agree to eat seasonally and locally for a year, as a family project. I’ve always been interested, in a token way, in locality and seasonality, and occasionally get so prickly about our general reliance on fossil fuels, a reliance embedded deep within the food supply system, that I wake up in the middle of the night and sit bolt upright, panicking. However, in recent years, what was once a passionate interest has seemed marginal when I have struggled to find time to cook at all on occasion. Even when you love food, the reality of cooking
I can’t and won’t live without aubergine, but I am making an effort to eat seasonally and locally. In this I have been aided by two things. The first is April Bloomfield’sA Girl and her Greens, an ode to vegetables which bursts with creativity and ideas for beautiful, sometimes unusual, vegetables. Not all the recipes are 100% to my taste (like many professional chefs, she uses more butter than I am personally comfortable with!) but I feel genuinely excited when flicking through this book, inspired to cook new things in different ways. The quirky illustrations of dancing pigs and quizzical chickens are also a delight.
The second aid to seasonality is Farm Direct, a website my friend Mehrunnisa directed me to. It’s effectively a virtual marketplace where farmers can list their produce; the food you order is delivered straight to your door. I browse the website like some people browse Asos or Tiffany’s: I just want it all, and everything is precious. So many wonderful things are growing around this time of year and I piled my online basket high, and then reluctantly took stuff out, bitterly acknowledging the fact that we are a two-person household who can only eat so much. The fantastic thing about the produce offered is that there are plenty of things simply not available in supermarkets: think sorrel, baby purple turnips, red spring onions. I find the prices competitive, too, especially for the unusual and organic produce, and I like the fact that farmers are earning more than they would if I purchased their food through a supermarket. I can’t wait for my next crate of baby turnips, gooseberries and Tiptree strawberries to arrive this weekend.
So immersed in my new love of seasonal, more local, eating (fresher! Directly benefitting farmers in my locality! Reducing our reliance on fossil fuels!) was I that reading Adam Johns’ opinion column ‘What’s so great about reating seasonally?’, published in the ‘A Good Rant’ section of delicious magazine was something of a shock. Johns describes encouragement to eat seasonally (though he intertwines this with the issue of eating locally – admittedly the two are very intersected) as an “absurd foodie dictum” and characterised by “piety, hypocrisy, and chauvinism”, not to mention snobbery and “culinary xenophobia”. He bemoans being unable to find South African apples in his local supermarket. I found the article pretty judgemental, but most of it was just his opinion, and I’m excellent at living and letting live on those (I just don’t have the energy to get exercised about how other people feel most of the time). However, there were two parts in particular where I thought Johns’ arguments were specious. Firstly:
Shoes and clothes are still made in the UK, but how many of those who insist on ‘buying locally’ make a point of wearing these items? […] why is that permitted if it’s not okay to eat an imported tomato?
My counter-point to that argument is the simple issue that fresh food is perishable. When it is imported via air, huge amounts of fuel are used to bring over produce which is, largely, destined to have a relatively brief shelf life. Coupled with the knowledge that UK households throw out 7 million tonnes of food items a year, half of which could have been eaten, the implication is that a lot of food is being imported only to be thrown away. A huge amount of non-renewable fossil fuel has been used to transfer out of season green beans to our rubbish (or perhaps compost!) bins. When importing clothes and shoes, there is no real shelf life (beyond the vagaries of fashion) as these are not perishable items, therefore importing them is not so risible. They are also much more likely to be shipped by container, and not a refrigerated one, either.
The second argument that Johns makes is as follows:
There’s also a mean-mindedness to the seasonistas’ stance. Every time you turn your nose up at a green bean from Kenya or a bunch of asparagus from Peru, you deny farmers in such developing countries the chance of a better living.
As I said I am unlikely to be able to live entirely without products from the world’s larder: in my fridge and on my counter I have bananas, aubergines, tinned Italian tomatoes and herbs and spices from around the world (and when it comes to fossil fuels…I did travel to New York recently!). But attempting to tread a little more lightly on the earth by reducing my reliance on foods imported by fossil fuel is driven not by xenophobia or pettiness but by an attempt to live more responsibly in my day to day actions. I don’t think this is a bad thing.