At home with Hawksmoor

Hawksmoor at Home by Huw Gott, Richard Turner and Will Beckett: Preface Publishing, 13 October 2011

October was a challenging month. Work sucked, I managed to gain half a stone seemingly without a concomitant increase in fun and I struggled to rise to the challenge of making the perfect burger at home, despite having invested in a cranky old mincer that must weigh half a tonne. To top it all, reading about how much fun everyone's was having during the soft opening of the new Hawksmoor didn't helped my rage. However, I can't complain. Whilst I may have missed out on the restaurant opening, the kind people at Random House sent me a copy of Hawksmoor at Home so I could recreate the fun myself. Rock and roll.

Three ways with Moro

Long before we visited their restaurant, my Ma and I developed a deep-rooted affection for Sam and Sam Clark. Their cooking, inspired by the food of Southern Spain, North Africa, and the Eastern Mediterranean, was faithfully recreated in our Nottingham kitchen. We debated their take on paella, aspired to make our own sourdough and the monkfish rice was cooked for one of Mr F's first visits to our family home. Since then, we've shared one much-thumbed and oil-splattered copy, which is the subject of occasional negotiations about who gets to have it next. The spine may have given up and the pages of rice recipes may be stuck together, but we still love it.

Critters!

Contrary to appearances, the cookbook challenge has been progressing fairly well in March and April. Less successful, this time, have been my efforts at writing up my attempts. The Larousse buckwheat pancakes remain unblogged and photos of my sticky toffee pudding triumph languish unloved on my computer. The full write up will have to wait for a bi-monthly summary at the end of April. Instead, this is a note on one of my favourite books, which was put to use in respect of one of the craziest things one can cook: crayfish.

Crayfish occupy a special place in the Fork household. By opting to wed in sunny South Africa, we inadvertently started a trend in gluttonous one-upmanship. It all started the day after our wedding, when one of our friends decided a steak was not enough to satisfy his hangover-induced appetite, and chose to chase his meal with a whole crayfish on the side. At this point, I should point out that a South African crayfish is not one of these snappy, perky little Northern hemisphere blighters. A South African crayfish is a prehistoric, seafaring monster which more than makes a meal in it own right. What followed our friend's bold move was a week of everyone else trying to outdo him, which for all of us, at some point, meant eating a crayfish along with a steak. Fools.

February Fail

I have not done well with the Cookbook Challenge this month. However, this monumental fail is not my fault. I have several excuses:

1) I have been too busy checking out other people's burgers

2) Chinese Elvis gave me nightmares and I woke up too tired to cook

3) I spent so much at Dinner, I couldn't afford ingredients

So I can't really be blamed for failing so miserably, not with all that going on.

Cookbook Challenge: January

The problem with New Year's resolutions is that they start to look jaded around the same time giving up rich food and alcohol starts to sound like not such a good idea after all. This year, it took me until lunchtime on New Year's Day to decide to head to the pub in search of beer and chips. So the prospects for my resolution were never great. Somewhat surprisingly, therefore, I managed to cook from eight of my many cookbooks in January, including three which had only ever previously been used as browsing fodder. What I have struggled with, unsurprisingly, is finding the time to chronicle my recipe-driven experiences. A change of tack is required: enter the monthly round up.

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. 

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. 

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.