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.

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.