Something fishy

Wright Brothers Soho, 13 Kingly St, W1B 5BW

Meal for two: £65

It is not unusual for a fledgling gourmand to have a favourite restaurant critic, someone who writes in a manner that captures the not-so-secret desires of their fundamentally greedy soul. Last year, Gourmet Chick  wrote about her respect for Marina O'Loughlin. For me, it is all about Jay Rayner: a man who expounds the virtues of lard and generally shuns bland or faffy food and stingy, ungenerous cooks. It is not surprising, therefore, that I wish I had read his review of the new Wright Brothers place in Soho before I chose it as the place to celebrate a good friend's engagement. 

Just as Rayner observed, food was generally good, if occasionally overpriced, but the holes in the service were so big, a colossal squid could have shimmied straight through them. What he criticised in December had not been put right by January. And, as he speculated in his review, we probably lost out for being civilians and not well-known food writers.

Cookbook Challenge #3: dinner party French

Rick Stein's French Odyssey by Rick Stein: BBC Books, 2005.

ISBN 0 563 52213 5

Like many people with an unhealthy interest in food, I have an Amazon problem. It does not take much to tip me over the edge: an enjoyable holiday, a hot new chef or - as in the case of the latest challenge book - a random encounter with my mother's food magazines. Some years back, browsing her latest copy of Olive, I came across an article testing the usefulness for dinner party cooking of four different celebrity cookbooks. Back then, it was clear to me that the Rick Stein book was the winner; and that was all the excuse I needed to get online and order a copy.

Since then, the book has seen a moderate amount of use. Whilst I wouldn't go so far as to call it a favourite, it has been dusted off on a few occasions, more than one of the recipes followed and one dish (the squid below) has been made more than once. A far cry from the interested neglect meted out to the first two tomes. It has even been leant to my Ma and Pa who liked it so much that an intervention was required to return it to my clutches. 

Spain forgiven

Morito, 32 Exmouth Market, EC1R 4QL

Meal for two with beers: £60

When your family is spread across two continents, one of the most frustrating things that can happen to you is Christmas transport fail. For example, the childhood family Christmas punctuated by 24 hours in Abidjan waiting for a plane that could manage the rather crucial process of leaving the ground. When said transport fail is not your fault nor the act of a weather god or technical gremlin but is, instead, the direct result of airline incompetence, it is all the more difficult to stomach. 

A pox, therefore, on Iberia and all her agents of disappointment whose ill-judged overbooking and abysmal customer service saw me wandering round Barajas airport in the early hours of Christmas Eve searching for someone who could fix Christmas. Doom-laden times in the Fork household. However, whilst nothing can ever match up to a sunny Christmas with family, their incompetence meant I spent Christmas with Mr F and left me with a nice little pot of compensation courtesy of EU law - thank you Brussels. Unfortunately, it also left me vowing never to return to Madrid, scene of so much trauma. Which is a shame because it is actually a truly wonderful place, home to the magnificent Museos del Jamon. I knew I had to fight this feeling the only way I could: with tapas.

Cookbook Challenge #2: fromage from the Alps.

Roast Figs Sugar Snow by Diana Henry: Octopus Publishing, 2005. 

ISBN 1 84000 888 1

Mr Fork is a winter person. Not one for sunny pursuits in hot climates, he is infinitely happier in cold and snow. At Christmas, our compromise was that I would spend time with my family in the sun and he would spend time with his in the snow. For Mr F, the highlight of a trip to the French Alps is the snow boarding. For me, it is him returning home with cheese. With a fridge full of the Alps' finest taunting my January health-related resolutions, it made sense to put it to work in pursuit of my other resolution: recipes. 

Back to the old stomping ground

The Fox and Hounds, 66 Latchmere Road, SW11 2JU
Meal for two with beers: £38

When Mr Fork and I moved to London, we started off in Battersea, and spent several happy years familiarising ourselves with the area's culinary offerings: the enduring brilliance of Pizza Metro Pizza, along with a couple of great pubs and a few  fairly generic places serving crumpets and slightly overpriced salads, in family-friendly surroundings. All too predictably - such is our luck, since we moved north and east, several reportedly great places have opened, such as the Draft House and Mien Tay. Returning to Battersea for the first time in a while, I was, therefore, hoping to try one of these relatively new places. Instead we found ourselves back in a favourite old haunt: the Fox and Hounds on Latchmere Road.

Cookbook Challenge #1: eating my inheritance

The Art of Persian Cooking by Forough-es-Saltaneh Hekmat: Doubleday & Co, 1961. ISBN: 0781802415

When my South African grandmother passed away, she left behind a legion of grandchildren who inherited her love of food and her closely-guarded recipe for banana chutney. How we have chosen to apply this legacy varies, from cooking for a psychic vegan and braiing fish caught off the West Coast to the brothers who compete with each other in local potjiekos competitions. 

For me, it was choosing one of her books as the first I would turn to in my challenge to cook something from every cookbook I own.

The Cookbook Challenge: My New Year's Resolution

I own just shy of 100 cookbooks. I am not sure of the exact number: there are 88 books in my small flat, one new purchase en route from Amazon and several on loan to my mum. These have been accumulated through various means: internet impulse purchases, birthday presents and precious inheritance from my grandmothers. Although this is not an altogether ridiculous library; rather unforgivably, I rarely follow the recipes they contain. This was brought to my attention just before Christmas: when passing an idle half hour with one of my books and resolving to use it soon, I happened upon the dedication at the front. It was from Mr F, wishing me a Happy Christmas for 2009. Slightly horrified, I realised I had not cooked from a book that I had owned for a year. I had read it a few times and been inspired but never followed a recipe from start to finish.