FOOD TALES

A picnic should be organised like any other meal; with timing, balance, poise and companionable guests. And given the potential style of a picnic, an eye for detail.The flavours, textures and colours of the experience need to match the perfection of our natural surroundings.

Tender (2009) tells the story of Nigel Slater's love affair with his garden in Islington and the many seedlings he has raised in his box-hedged vegetable patches. It’s a magnificent volume, like a medieval knightly treatise with pictures of his Eden, its produce and many of the recipes he has created from them.

Cooking is a basic human instinct. We’ve been eating, chopping, shaping, flavouring, enticing ingredients into something delicious since time began. But as the way many of us live has changed, the basic skills we require to cook, are no longer valued and it’s often easier to let others take control of what we eat.

This week we had sustainable fish stew. It’s a quick and easy way to feed a gang of hungries on a Friday night and doesn’t need much else but some good bread and wine. Like all stews, you need balance, rich liquid and a range of potent flavours steaming from your pot.

For years, the poor vegetarian has been relegated to meatless lasagne and risotto, never allowed to move beyond goat cheese tartlets. Exercise aplomb and a pioneering spirit in your culinary matchmaking. Go for things you don’t recognise or haven’t had before. There is always a literal cornucopia of new and interesting contenders.

My feeling is that in Venice you need to seek out dishes, rather than places. Equally determined to avoid the withering looks and contempt of waiters serving menus turisticos, I wanted something the locals would eat. The insider knowledge.

Christmas is unusual for two reasons this year. First I’m not cooking. Secondly I am spending it with family. Both of which anyone who knows me will understand are uncharacteristic. But I am thrilled on both counts. Contrary to popular expectation, I love being cooked for.

It’s particularly this time of year that I do miss rainy, wet-dog country Sundays. The smell of sodden, decaying undergrowth, shotguns in the distance and alarmed pheasant leaping from the brake, the squelch of mud under boot and the lowering winter skies.

A fried breakfast needs to pack a punch. Sufficient to see off bilious reflux and rising nausea. It should be a flavoursome, enriching ballast. A mix of soul food and blood strengthening fuel. Enough to see you through the newspapers, a Fred Astaire movie and induce afternoon slumber.

I don’t usually use this blog as a vehicle for attack. But there is a link. For me Moir’s outrage is sadder because I was impressed by her progress as a food writer. Ever so slightly envious, even.

For me, there is an exact parallel between writing and cooking. Allowing what is already there to emerge. With simplicity, clarity and profound impact.

There are endless renewed pleasures in food shopping. For me nothing betters the satisfaction of returning home with ingredients I have no experience of cooking. But it takes a leap of faith.

That’s the truth of Spain. Both food and people. The rub of patience and reserve against passion and resolve. For me, particularly Barcelona. It’s a hugely social, sexy city. Where overpowering flavours of the past mingle with the exuberance of youth.

I love sorrel. It’s wincing sourness crumples your nose like an old lady at a bus stop. I remember, crouching in the kitchen garden of my childhood, sucking the lemony stalks, one eye half closed.

With warm days and blossom on the trees it's good time for spring ducklings. This marmalady dish, redefines duck.

Taking a walk along the estuary at West Mersea is rewarded by a delicious seafood lunch.

Learning to cook isn't about recipes. It's acquiring an instinct for food. And sometimes how to get out of trouble in the kitchen when it all goes wrong.

Increasingly we are being sold organic food as a luxury alternative. But is organic always better - shouldn't good food, the best ingredients, be the norm?

In 1980 Elizabeth David wrote a delightfully perverse and typically judicious article called 'The Besprinkling of a Rosemary Branch'. She finds it an overbearingly fragrant and frankly undeservedly ubiquitous herb.

The mezze is a perfect antidote to festive feasting and an ideal way to eat for those of us resolved to shake off the lingering effects of over-indulgence.

Christmas is a time of a potentially monumental overspend and worshipping at the altars of vainglorious food stores. Why not look into the back of the cupboard and see what delights linger there?

When it comes to cooking, there is nothing simpler and more satisfying to make as soup. You can have completely free reign to concoct any mixture of ingredients you want.

When the weather is rough and you need some home comfort, Pips Dish Fish Pie is the best. Simple to cook and even easier to eat.

For many of us oysters are either a symbol of arriviste affluence or naughty extravagance. Along with rhino horn, tiger penis and asparagus, oysters are said to have considerable aphrodisiac properties. After all, if nothing else, I suppose all that slurping would be enough to get you in the mood.

I have come to the conclusion that one never really knows when theatre is not good, only when it is brilliant. The same, I think, is true of restaurants.

Burma was the garden of Asia. More fruits and vegetables grow there than anywhere else in that vast continent. Rich in minerals too by all standards this should be a rich country, very rich.

The simple joy of two seasonal delights. Sea trout and Jersey Royals. Neither require much in the way of preparation, are easily and quickly cooked, and taste like the month of May on a plate. A marriage heralding summer days.

An introduction to some paisos Catalan food prepared for a wedding banquet in Barcelona. Local dishes such as Escalivada, Xatonada with Romesco sauce, butifarra and faves.

My love of food and cooking was germinated by childhood visits to the legendary Italian delicatessan Valvona & Crolla. Today it remains the best of its kind in Britain.

We get caught in a 'sunday' roast mentality - saving the sounds and sensations for the seventh day. But roasting up in the middle of a dreary week can really bring cheer to the kitchen and makes wonderful leftovers.

Few dinners have reached my top ten. Well only ten. But there is a new contender. A must eat. One worth the food miles. Moo is the restaurant in in the svelte, low lit Hotel Omm, just off the Passeig de Gracia in Barcelona.

This weather urges me to re-stock the larder. After a month of festive eating, I want to load up the kitchen with practical foods that will help us through these dreary months. Duck Confit, Baked Ham, Marmalade.

Under this year’s Christmas tree was F-W’s River Cottage Fish Book. Like his previous Meat, respect for ingredients comes first. In the knowledge that many of us are looking down at the scales right now, fish is the answer for healthy, lean eating.

For those still toiling behind their pcs on Christmas Eve. And who look forward with eager dread at making the festive dinner tomorrow, I thought I would just offer some useful tips for escaping disaster and ensuring some happy results. Some of these may seem obvious, some less so.

After the theatre in London, there’s nothing better than chewing the cud over supper. A bit of pocket analysis and critique and some wine. Read Pips Dish for London theatre suppers.

The freshest fish lends itself perfectly, despite having to look hard to get a decent fish supper anywhere. For me, the best Fish and Chips experience in the world is Olley’s in Herne Hill.

Let’s face it, involved cooking experiences are not always appealing at the end of a long day. Like all creative enterprise, sometimes you just haven’t the energy to do more than hold a plate.

Once you’ve finished licking your fingers after roast chicken, one of the delightful moments for any cook is making a stock. It’s a replenishing moment. Leftovers ethos at it’s best.

An October favourite for me is chestnuts. Something about their brave attempt to keep out intruders with those thick spiny shells but the inevitable fall makes the having more welcome. The smell and crack as they roast away in the oven or on a fire.

aitre d’ Silvio Praino combines a restrained modernity with its elegant past. And the service reflects that nicely. Unobtrusive, well-informed and passionate about food, Silvio slips efficiently around the tables, deftly administering enthusiasm, knowledge and his staff in equal measures.

An unexpected recent encounter was with a vast horseradish plant towering in a corner of the garden. It’s a delicious vegetable if used with caution.

In the most unlikely corner of Vieux Nice at Oliviera, Nadim Beyrouti and his wife combine a passion for the oils of the region with the simplest ingredients.

There's not much better to do with the remains of a Sunday roast lamb than to mince it up for a moussaka. The cooled lamb fat recooked into the shivering slices of aubergine melting with the mountain flavours of thyme and sage recalls the best of Greek home cooking.

The food at Arbutus is clever and simple. The attention and enthusiasm for their ingredients is impressive. It’s a broad and engaging menu and they also price it reasonably. Arbutus has deservedly become a West End mainstay.

I have an on-off relationship with tomatoes. Mostly off. Being so often tasteless renders them largely pointless. Tinned tomatoes start in Italy and so some flavour is guaranteed. They are great when it comes to sauces and soups and there is no need to use those watery ragus or passata from a jar.

I think my approach to cooking is uncomplicated. It relies on what’s there, in the fridge. That in turn depends entirely on what I’ve fancied buying which is seldom based on any planning of what I will cook. This way the adventure of shopping turns up some gems.

You can really let your imagination loose on salads. You can compose anything you want, from recreating a standard hot dish as a salad to combining the bizarre and the sublime in hitherto unknown combinations.

Rouille is a provencal sauce comprising olive oil with breadcrumbs, garlic, saffron and chile peppers. A common accompaniment to fish soup and often served with a crouton and grated gruyere. It is something of a rare treat and I love it.

Whenever we come back from Barcelona, it’s always laden with anything tinned I can’t get here. One of them is the little baby squid in olive oil – chipirones. No comparison with the fresh ones but when in need.

It’s easy to dismiss offal.I haven’t got a big repertoire. But I do like kidneys. Mounted on a couple of rounds of toasted brioche on your most beautiful plates, they are fit for a king’s birthday.