VEGGIES RULE OK!

Vegetables get a raw deal. I’m continually surprised that despite the encouraging improvements in cooking generally, vegetables are still so often waterlogged and old-school. Like an amateur octogenarian ladies choir. When, compared to meat and fish, growing vegetables is fairly sustainable, it’s a travesty that dreary carrots, cauliflower and the ubiquitous broccoli, flaccid mushrooms and greenish beans remain the mainstay of so many tables. And more to the point, that they are cooked with no attention to the enticement of our tastebuds. Vegetables are all too often treated as second best. Like dank, undecorated spare rooms, where instead of having the finest furnishings and decor in which to luxuriate, you are treated to something left over from university halls of residence.

A few years ago a party of us were camping on Wilson’s Promontory in Victoria. This extraordinary national park with its squeaking sands, tame kookaburras and wombats snuffling in the undergrowth was full of professional Aussie campers. Some even had mobile kitchens, complete with butcher’s boards, pull-out cooker and breakfast bar. Our amenities were somewhat more primitive. A gas ring and a pot as I remember. Though there are always communal barbecue cooking spots you can use. When it came to my turn to cook (contrary to popular assumption, I don’t always jump at the role) there wasn’t much left in the provisions box except a very large bag of carrots, some walnuts, feta cheese and a bunch of mint. So I sent the Belgian off to the barbecue with the walnuts to toast. To the huge amusement of the butch red-necks sizzling up bloody cuts on the grill.

While our neighbours gnawed on bones, we had carrots sautéed with mint, crumbled feta and toasted walnuts. ‘Flamin’ bottler mate!’ The point of the story is not about inventiveness, though that of course is the key to being an interesting cook, but that even the most common vegetables can be brought to new life with some imagination. I’m currently editing Chapter Three of Cooking for Men and while I was writing about preparing vegetables, it occurred to me just how many wonderful players get ignored. We get stuck cooking the usual suspects in the same way ignoring the fact that some are delicious cold or raw in salads or that they love having their flavours coaxed out in different ways with herbs, spices, lemons and seasonings. Even, though I am a great fan of cauliflower cheese, years ago in Italy I was served cold florets as a starter, sprinkled with rich green olive oil, oregano, sea salt black pepper and parmesan. Unimaginable perfection.

For years, the poor vegetarian has been relegated to meatless lasagne and risotto, never allowed to move beyond goat cheese tartlets. When it comes to veggies, 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. Last week I cooked golden beetroot and cavolo nero, provided by the lovely Robert in Leila’s, my new favourite shop in London. The beetroot was roasted with cumin and I made a leafy, lemon-creamy soup with the latter. Yesterday we had crispy lemon sole goujons nestling on a raw fennel and courgette salad with cooked broad beans. Tomorrow we are having roast chicken and celery stewed with Pernod. Sometime soon I want to try Jerusalem artichokes again – sliced very thin and fried. Caveat cenator!

But it doesn’t have to be only the exotic. Among the usual suspects my own favourite pairings are green beans with shallots, tarragon and tomatoes, cabbage cooked in sesame oil and caraway seeds and the Belgian loves a few anchovies mashed into Brussels sprouts. Each brings something exclusive to the party and sometimes they steal the show.

Simon Hopkinson has recently published a book called The Vegetarian Option. It is not unrivalled in originality but he has imagination and flair. Way back in 1978 Jane Grigson’s Vegetable Book first arrived in our kitchens. One of my favourite writers Ana del Conte, describes it as inspirational. I agree. It’s what cook books should do. Set us off on a journey of our own. If you haven’t read it, do.

VENI, VIDI, VENICE

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.

10 January, 2010

A TIME FOR LOVIN'

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.

26 July, 2009

GAME ON

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.

9 December, 2009