Pork off 2011: Piggy chow

As soon as we moved to London, I started to crave outdoor space. Not for growing plants or lounging in the sun, pleasant as these pastimes are, but instead for making fire and cooking meat. However, for our first few years here, we lived in a tiny top-floor flat and had to content ourselves with looking down onto other people's gardens. I think it was my South African DNA asserting itself when I demanded that our next flat must have some sort of outdoor area - no matter how small. This was also how I justified the rash decision to buy a BBQ (or should I say a braai?) as soon as we moved into a flat with a balcony. Before the Ikea shopping was unpacked, before we even had a bed - we had the ability to grill meat just outside the cramped comfort of our own home. Never mind that the balcony is small and wooden. That is why, when I heard that there was a competition to cook a dish made almost entirely of pork, it made sense to crack out the fire or, in this case, the smoke. It had to be 8 hour, slow-cooked, hickory-smoked pig also known as pulled pork.

But what to serve with the pulled pork and how to elevate it above humble pig sandwich? These were the questions that plagued me in the days before my Pork Off cook-off. The dish had to contain three different cuts of pig and thus far I had only settled on one: the shoulder. Then, whilst eating a banh mi and marvelling at the way they had made more space for meat by removing some of the bread's middle, it hit me - why not make piggy chow, a porked up bunny chow? It was the South African DNA again.

Get Forked for less in Istanbul

Nevizade sokak at night

There are plenty of reasons to love Istanbul: its long warm summers, its location by the sea at the point where two continents meet or the proliferation of historic buildings which feature on the list of things one is supposed to see in a lifetime. However, for a glutton such as myself, Istanbul offers more than enough to justify the journey on that count alone. Moreover, if you find yourself there without many liras to your name, as we did, it need not affect your enjoyment of the city's culinary delights.

Though I generally prefer cities to the countryside, even for a holiday, some places are incomparable in their atmosphere and style (and have bloody good restaurants). Whenever I visit one of these cities for the first time, I irritate Mr Fork by declaring a desire to either move there or, if it has been a truly successful trip, to rearrange history so that I can be from there. I mention this merely to illustrate my sincerity when I say Istanbul is a marvellous place, peerless in its happy mix of cultures and lately top of my list of places I would leave London for.

Shanghai: in search of comfort greens

Shanghai, 41 Kingsland Road, E8 2JS

Whenever I am feeling sad about something, Mr Fork knows that there is only one thing for it: steamed Chinese greens. Guiltlessly healthy, almost crunchy but slightly slimy and slick with garlic, they are the one of the few things that can make the world better. Pasta with tomato ketchup and melted cheese is the other but, when work drives me to real despair , Mr F knows that overdosing on Heinz just won't cut it. In these situations, we are both immensely grateful that we live near a good local Chinese restaurant.  

We have eaten at Shanghai dozens of times, several of them since I started this blog, but I have never written about it for some reason. Perhaps because going to Shanghai almost doesn't feel like eating out for us, the former pie and eel shop turned restaurant has become an extension of our living room by virtue of the amount of time we spend in it.

A fairly lengthy menu and the rare option of dim sum in the evening are overlooked - the latter is invariably disappointing, in favour of roast pork, steamed greens and rice. Unadventurous but always satisfying, Shanghai excels in getting these basic offerings right. The greens are crisp, fresh and cooked to perfection. The pork is sticky and rich or crispy and fatty, depending on our choice of pig dish. Sometimes roast duck graces the plate, sometimes we have fried rice rather than steamed, but the greens are the constant, drawing us back whenever the thought of cooking casts an unhappy shadow and marital strife looks imminent. 

We chose Shanghai to cater the London end of our wedding. I think we felt we owed them something because, but for steamed greens and comfort, we might never have lasted long enough to get married.

Haché: five years too late

Haché, 24 Inverness Street, NW1 7HJ

That things change is an irrefutable facet of existence. Sometimes frightening, usually unsettling; it is frequently-observed fact of life that almost nothing remains constant. However, there is one aspect of my life where time has done only good things: the evolution of the British burger. 

Longer-term residents of our fair isle will recall the dark days when the choice between McDonald's and Burger King was the only real decision required when dining on burgers. It is unsurprising, therefore, that the advent of Gourmet Burger Kitchen and their ilk - who made meddling with the humble burger into a multiple-outlet mega-success, was largely welcomed by a populace starved of variety. However, is anyone really sad that the intervening years have seen a growing maturity in our attitude to burgers, as we realise that something simple, made with top ingredients, is an infinitely superior choice? The folks at Haché must be, for in their world it is 2005, they are the best burger place in the city and variety still reigns supreme. Shame it's 2011, chaps.