Snoo's kitchen

Happy to leave Davos behind and head for the hills. Still no paddle work (that comment is for those that understand about cars) and am still just a passenger but I got loads of knitting done. There was even a traffic jam at one point when we has to nip into Switzerland and Italy a few times through some tunnels (diversion because of roadworks). The walkie talkies were alive with the sound of “Sorry, Darren, where am I? My satnav isn’t working”, or “Darren, I just drove past a building with gnomes on the top of it, am I on the right road?” I find the best policy is to remain calm at all times. Except when Husbant picks up the walkie talkie and says he only has 30 miles of petrol left. And Darren’s voice, while calm, had an edge of incredulity. Transpires we missed the fuel stop. Anyway, we managed to find a petrol station very soon after miles and miles of tunnel and ‘gallery’ driving. And I stayed calm.

For Husbant, there were two highlights of the day. We drove past a Porsche tractor. And we drove up the Stelvio Pass. If I had to choose, I would probably say the Stelvio was pretty good. The scenery was amazing. And the 48 hairpins were fun. There were even people cycling up and down! That takes real nerve.

We had lunch at the top of pass. I decided to go for the local pasta dish. Interesting choice, as you can see from the photo. Pasta, potato, cheese.

And now to explain the ‘Earth’ day. In order to keep Husbant’s Adrenaline, Cortisol, and Norepinephrine levels at a reasonable level, I decided to put Earth, Wind & Fire on the sound system. I believe this enhanced his Stelvio experience, but this is purely my supposition. So while driving road round 48 hairpins, there was a lot of “singing” next to me. I didn’t reach for the noise-cancelling headphones. But I did pick up my knitting. Later on in the day, I was able to sneak in a bit of my music (Costello, Lemon Jelly, Steely Dan, Quo).

St Moritz was chilly and full of shops selling expensive trinkets. Luckily, the shops were closed. We ate in the hotel as it was raining hard. The sink taps were confusing. Which one do you think was the hot one?

Yes the one with “C”, not “H”. Weird.

So we are now on our way to Interlaken. For two nights. So lovely to be sleeping in the same bed and finding the loo in the same place for two nights. Such relief.

*a film I watched as a very young youngster whose title has stayed with me.

So day 3 and day 4 of the tour seem to have merged with not many differentiating factors, save for the food. We seem to spend a lot of the time stuck behind various trucks, buses, or campervans. And while not criticising the driving, I think I might have thrown open the throttle a bit and lived a little more dangerously. But here we are, safely, in Davos. Was warned about how unexciting it was. And I can confirm that it really is duller than that. Maybe when the VIPs turn up for their yearly chats, the place livens up. Husbant likened it to Frinton. I thought that a bit generous.

So lunch stop yesterday was in Gruyere. A very touristy town where every restaurant had cheese on the menu. Not helpful for some of the group who only eat Steak and Chips. But I was clearly in cheese heaven and had the most delicious cheese on toast. It was bountiful. Husbant had macaroni cheese which came in a fondue pan.

The full effect of eating so much cheese came into play about 30 minutes into the afternoon drive when I fell asleep. This was hastened by the “crooning” of the driver (see earlier blogs on Husbant’s driving sounds). Woke up and we were still behind the same bus. The walkie talkie was very quiet so we were well out of range of the rest of the group. And cheese was then banned from lunch for the rest of the tour, given it’s soporific effects.

We stayed in Brienz, woodworking capital of Europe. The lake was a weird green but it was a lovely spot. Dinner was ok but I was still full of cheese so didn’t have too much.

Today we had a late start and stopped for coffee twice. First stop was odd. Small roadside cafe. 15 supercars with 28 people desperate for a shot of caffeine. After 20 minutes of nothing he closed the cafe and told us all to leave. He was too busy preparing lunch. Husbant espied a lot of PSG posters (that’s a French football team based in Paris) and said that that might the reason. Anyroads, we went a little further up the road and were warmly welcomed at the Blue Trout Cafe. Lunch was in Zermat… i had a delicious white sausage and pretzel. Looks very human but does taste good.

The afternoon session was very sedate and I managed to get quite a bit of knitting done. Have been set a challenge to knit wing mirror covers. I just might do it.

Dinner was tasty. The hotel has a pool and two saunas and a steam room. We have used all the facilities. Highlight of Husbant’s day was the ironing board in the room. Have included some landscape photos. Photos of cars are available on request. And yes, I have had some chocolate.

First proper day of #drivingadventures. Have to give a quick shout out to the isosceles fish that was the first dish of the holiday. If you fancy starting a holiday in style, I can’t recommend dinner at the Holiday Inn Express at Folkestone. Think formica tables and plastic banquettes that weren’t even cool when they were cool. And triangular fish aren’t natural. Husband suggested a form of angel fish. I didn’t agree.

Bed was sort of comfy. Breakfast was just weird. But then we drove to Chunnel and met up with the “group”. 13 other cars… some red ones, some blue ones and some other ones including a green one. That’s all that really matters. Although some readers would probably love to see the full details *available on request.

Once we reached France, and were convoying our way down the motorway towards Reims, I remembered that I really should have brought a neck pillow, nay even a neck brace. I think I mentioned a button yesterday. That button has a new name. “Brace, brace”. Technically it is a sport plus button. To be employed at will without warning but with unintentional consequences for any passenger. I have requested a “brace brace” warning. There’s is a condition called selective mutism. Enough said.

I had forgotten how flat and boring northern France was… and so had to spend most of the journey fantasising about being anywhere else but on a motorway in northern France. Lunch stop was preceded by a short detour around Reims (satnav took the blame, driver didn’t and I wasn’t going to get involved). But at least the “t” works well and the barriers respond appropriately. (Memories of first tour when Husband said “watch this, we drive up and the barrier goes up automatically”… we drove up and the barrier stayed down except for the point when he drove straight up to it and through it. No magic lift. We saw it bouncing down the road behind us through the rear window).

After another boring hour on the motorway we finally turned off onto a much more interesting road. With bends and everything. There were a few stretches of straight bits when it got quite exciting. But mainly it was just getting stuck behind flour lorries. Husband muttered a few car things under his breath every now and again. I fell asleep, worn out by all the excitement. And then we arrived at the chateau near Dijon.

Best bit of the day coming up! There is an outdoor pool and it is gorgeous. Splashed merrily about for a long while and then lay drying off in late afternoon sun.

Dinner was good! Courgette and garlic amuse, trout ceviche, cod and chorizo, local cheeses. Washed down with a good red Bourgogne wine.

Tomorrow we head to Switzerland. So am expecting chocolate.

Some people are very easily pleased. They tell you what they want for their birthday. You buy it. They love it. But where’s the surprise? Where’s the clandestine checking sizing, ordering and then trying to take delivery, in secret, of a hopefully misleading shaped box. This year, Husband said he wanted to go on a course on how to wash his car. Specifically, the name and place of the company that run the course. So the only surprise element was going to be the day I chose to book it. So long as it was at the weekend and before the cricket season started. My research led me to find out that they didn’t run the course on a Sunday. So the “surprise” element was significantly reduced. I also thought I could show him how to wash his car for 1/100th the cost, but I don’t think that would have been as acceptable.

On said day, he left at the crack of sparrow’s, waking the hamlet with his superturbo exhaust button set to max, and arrived a few hours later at the cleaning facility. About two hours later, I receive a text: “This is the best birthday present, ever”. I am still a little dumbstruck as to how learning to wash and polish your car (detailing, apparently) can be described as the best birthday present ever. My list is too exhaustive to write here but would include some sort of food adventure, a fancy-pants hotel (even if just for a few hours), a trip to the seaside/mountains, or just a dinner at home followed by a film and some very tasty chocolates. But more than a few hours later, maybe when the owl was hooting, he returned with a boot-load of new wipes, creams and ointments, and an enormous smile in his face, clutching his certificate.

With his new-found expertise, he spends many happy hours washing his car, and mine, and could even get a job as a professional if things ever go pear-shaped in the world of financial editing.

We are off on a Driving Adventure. Right now. In a beautifully clean car…I daren’t mention the smeary bits on my side of the windscreen but I can surreptitiously wipe them off at the first petrol stop. We’re heading to Folkestone Holiday Inn so we can be in pole position early tomorrow morning at the chunnel. It’ll be snowing when we reach Davos. You have been warned.

Wow! Just returned from AnnieB’s Amazing Almadraba Adventure – a week celebrating tuna, drinking sherry and cooking. Have been home less than 24 hours and want to do it all again.

It was my second trip to AnnieB’s cooking school and I very much doubt it will be my last. She is so inspiring and a great teacher. Her enthusiasm is infectious and every day is just a joy to experience.

We met on Monday night outside the Califa, where we were staying. My room opened straight out onto the terrace with great views. The bed was extremely comfortable and the shower powerful with plenty of white fluffy towels. We headed off on a tapas tour of Vejer, drinking sherry was optional but following my trip last time, I rarely drink anything else now (still yet to get the aged Ps to keep their Sainsbury’s medium dry in the fridge…at the combined ages of around 180, I think it’s a losing battle). I remember the potato salad, tuna carpaccio, mojama (air-dried tuna) with asparagus chutney (tasted like asparagus jam – believe me this is a taste sensation) and an amazing manzanilla called Xixarito. And a lot of laughing.

One of the best things about sherry is the fact that you feel great the next morning—there’s no hangover. So when we met up for a trip to Barbate the following morning, I felt as fresh as a daisy. The breakfast spread was good – copious amounts of freshly squeezed orange juice and some Moroccan flat breads which were a great base for iberico ham. So three perky students clambered into the car with Annie and headed off to Barbate to buy some fish and vegetables to cook. There is something that happens to me when I am in a proper market…I want to buy almost everything I see and I wonder why we can’t have similar markets at home. I think we all got a bit carried away and ended up getting a big fish (pargo?) to bake in salt, a load of boquerones, squid, some camarones (tiny shrimps sold by the glass) and tuna. Heading back to AnnieB’s kitchen via a tuna shop where I was lucky enough to get some asparagus jam and mojama, and a great coffee stop to indulge in some Manteca on toast, we began our cookery lesson. First up was a honey pie… a pastry case made of olive oil, milk and flour filled with a lovely oozyness of honey, eggs, butter, sugar, cream (among others) and baked in the oven for half an hour. Annie had some very special honey from Grazalema which was as old as the pyramids but, oh my, it was delicious. Next up was ajo blanco (if you are afraid of garlic, please look away now) which is a chilled white Garlic and Almond Gazpacho. I really wanted to know how to make Salmorejo, my favourite soup, so Pepi (the world’s best sous chef) popped out to get some more tomatoes and hey presto, we made Salmorejo. This is a cooking class with so much class. Our third dish was tuna with onions – the tuna was expertly diced into large cubes, marinated and then added to a large pan of onions which had been simmering for about 45 minutes.

I could go into detail on all the other dishes we cooked but I am making myself hungry. Suffice to say all three of us are now dab hands at preparing boquerones three ways (fried, marinated and crispy bones), successfully baking a whole fish in salt, and stuffing squid. Once we had cooked everything it was time to eat everything accompanied by sherry (or if sherry wasn’t your thing (?), beer, white wine, red wine, you name it, it’s there for you).

Back to the hotel to take a well-earned nap and then we returned for a flamenco event at AnnieB’s – what a fabulous way to spend the day.

Day 3 dawned and Africa was in full view. We headed out to watch the Almadraba trap being lifted. We drove to the harbour and stepped aboard a very cool speedboat with an even cooler captain and first mate. We sped off to the traps – I felt a bit like a Bond girl but only momentarily. We arrived at the trap and moored up. It was like having a front row seat in a truly amazing performance. Our captain explained each movement and I was spellbound. I know that many people are turning to plants for food, but to watch the Almadraba, which has its roots in the Phoenician times, was amazing for me. After the spectacle at sea, we went back to see the tuna being processed and readied. And then we went to eat at El Campero – which I knew from the moment I walked in that I would be returning. The fish was some of the best I have eaten – even the tuna sperm was spicy and delicious. Yes, that’s right.

The last day came round far too quickly but we three students had got into the groove and were now best friends. We went off in a taxi with Annie to Zahara los Atunes to visit as many bars and restaurants as we could in 4 hours as part of the Ruta de Atun. This is an annual event where restaurants compete to make the best tuna tapas. Oh my word. This was one of the best days I have had (since my last trip to AnnieB’s). Eating exceptional food, drinking great sherry and enjoying the company of like-minded foodies…am sorry but this was heaven. Have already planned to take Husband there for a long weekend (a Porsche was parked outside the hotel where we began our tuna tapas journey so I reckon he would be up for a visit). After drinking and eating all afternoon, we had a short nap, and then met up for our last night gala dinner. We voted to return to Casa Varo – a truly wonderful restaurant. I have stopped taking so many photos of food but it’s fun to watch the choreography of phones coming out and plates being shifted to ensure the shot is perfect. I just want to eat the food. BUT never say never and I did take a few photos… (see end). After visiting numerous bars after dinner, I stumbled into bed feeling very happy indeed.

The journey home was a time to contemplate the week’s events. Even Iberia’s total incompetence at losing my luggage couldn’t remove the glow I felt having spent yet another week with the amazing AnnieB, cooking, eating, drinking and generally having a ball.

I will be back. And tell your best friend about it, but not the world as it’s too special.

#annieb #almadraba #cookingschool #vejerdelafronterra #tuna #foodies

So the last part of my sabbatical has arrived all too quickly and the seconds and minutes are going even faster. I arrived in Delhi and headed straight out on a food tour in Old Delhi. The contrast between Tokyo (the most populated city) and Delhi (the second most populated city) couldn’t be more extreme. Order vs disorder. Careful drivers vs crazy drivers. But I love them both. I met shikha, my tour guide, in a taxi on the way to the start point of the tour. It took me an hour and a half to cross Delhi, and a lot more seemed to have been taken off my life. At one point we were on a 14-lane highway with most people going in the same direction but everyone jostling for a bit of tarmac. 

The food tour was excellent. We started with a potato curry, two types of bread, a samosa, gulab jamun and a lassi. I realised I was going to have to pace myself. And I was brought up to eat everything on my plate. Not doing so, and particularly not doing so in India, seemed wrong. But Shikha explained it was fine. 

The secret to tasting curry is to take one spoonful, then a second and then a third. The first taste hits your lips and front of the mouth and is usually salty. The second spoonful hits you sweet and sour buds inside your mouth and the third spoonful gives you the spice in your throat. Try it at home!

The next stop was a bit weird. Here’s the picture…

A mango and paneer sandwich with jam on a slice of mother’s pride. Yes, I thought so too! But the sandwich was brought over by the British… The next stop was at a stall which was selling dhokla. This was amazing. It tastes like a really moist piece of cake with a hint of spice. It would be a closely fought contest between dhokla and chiffon cake. 

Passing through the streets of Old Delhi, we stopped at a guy selling naan khatai – biscuits cooked in oven the like of which I had never seen (they are cooking underneath that pan in the photo) and they too just melted in your mouth.

Time for some more white-knuckle rides as we hopped into a rickshaw and headed towards the spice market. The road was narrow and more pitted than Station Lane in Milford – I felt like it might topple over on a few occasions and we certainly got familiar with other road users – so close we could play Chinese whispers at times. I couldn’t help but feel for the guy pulling us along. Reminded me of another rickshaw trip I did with my brother in Jaipur – I felt me and Gray should be doing the pulling and then the guy got lost and it was miles out of the way… anyroad, it was thrilling this time around. We stopped for some delicious kulfi – a very famous kulfi maker in Old Delhi. I had some pomegranate sorbet with it. Wow! What patience that must have taken!

If you ever find yourself in Old Delhi, I would recommend a stop here. The spice market was very spicy – the air seemed to be thick with ground spices and I felt myself coughing and sneezing…but the smells were really something. We stoppped by Kumars and I stocked up on quite a few, and some mango green tea. 

The last two places showed how cooking chickpeas in two different ways, with two different types of bread, completely changes the flavour. The first was a traditional method where the chickpeas are cooked very slowly for 4-5 hours just in species and the second was the more modern way – cooking the chickpeas in water and spices for around 2-3 hours. I would go with tradition every time – but the modern ones were good!

There was time for just one more lassi – they were all out of mango lassi, so I opted for a keser badam (saffron and almond), before we got into a tuktuk and headed back to the  taxi. This was a great tour (foodtourinDelhi.com), and an excellent tour guide – Shikha provided a goodie bag with water, wipes, tissues and cleaning gel. And my tummy has been right as rain!