To book for MsMarmitelover's supper club go to http://www.wegottickets.com/undergroundrestaurant for dates and details.

Sunday, 29 August 2010

Douwe Egberts cups


Food bloggers often get contacted by food and beverage PRs asking if we can promote their product. Last year quite a few bloggers ran videos and information from Douwe Egberts. However I'm in a different position from many food bloggers in that I actually make/sell food and drink. I'm also always on the lookout for products that my guests will enjoy. So I had the genius business idea of asking Douwe Egberts to sponsor the coffee course at my dinners. They have a variety of good tasting coffees and I'm still getting to know them. I think my favourites so far are 'velvet' and 'vintage'.
Recently they send me some beautiful porcelain cups which means that guests no longer have to drink their coffee from a variety of glasses, cups, bowls and even tea light holders! Chapped and split lips will in future be caressed by the gorgeous creamy porcelain edges of these elegant vessels. Noses will savour the smoky aromas wafting up from these perfectly proportioned demitasses.
Egbert Douwes started in Holland in 1753 and the design of these cups reflect the vintage of the brand with a nod to the blue and white beauty of Dutch Delft pottery. They also match the European shabby chic style of The Underground Restaurant.
I love the raised 'seal' logo in the middle of the saucer, also on the cup.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

A vibrant August dinner


The colours of Italy: slow roasted cherry tomatoes on the vine


Menu: 
Cocktail: The Bitter Underground (1 measure Suze, 1 measure gin, tonic, ice, lemon zest and 1 tablespoon of sugar) the perfect drink for a sultry stormy summer night
Palmiers
Home made cheese stuffed tortelloni with garden mushroom and cream sauce garnished with courgette tagliatelli
Salmon en papillotte
Slow roasted cherry tomatoes
Rosemary salt roasted new potatoes
Cheeses
Giant pavlova with strawberries (a record 21 egg whites)


Red pepper tapenade 

Palmier


Lepiota mushrooms from my garden. I found these growing in the morning. I know they are safe as I checked them during mushroom walks with Andy Overall, an ex 80s pop star who is now an eyeliner wearing ranger on Hampstead heath.


Courgette tagliatelli


...shaved finely on my vintage French mandoline


Saumon en papillotte, garnished with basil and chervil






Don't forget The Underground Farmers & Craft Market is on September 19th. I will be blogging soon about the stalls and demos.
Tickets for future dinners at The Underground Restaurant can be found here

Monday, 16 August 2010

Fishes and loaves: feast of the assumption

Vintage christening menus found in France

Black, green tapenade, paté de poivron on communion hosts




Rosemary walnuts, roasted with brown sugar and smoked salt to accompany hearty Bloody Marys (after Mary Tudor, the Catholic queen who killed so many protestants) with freshly grated horseradish root and organic celery salt. 


Rigatoni Puttanesca: whores pasta

Marinated fennel, roasted apricot, parsley and pomegranate salad

The fishes were so big I had to shut the tails in the door of the Aga.

Red snapper covered in sel grise and stuffed with chervil and lemon

Ollie can serve seven plates at a time. They learn this at catering school and breed mutant waiters with enormous flat wrist bones.


Salt encrusted roasted new potatoes

Cathare cross cheese: stunning

A selection of cheeses made by religious communities with the communion host and my home made breads: pain d'epi and almonds and whisky soaked sultana rye. And my rhubarb compote!

Roasted figs with almonds (very Marian), lavender chocolate and mascarpone.

Route Nationale


Sisteron, the first night.

I'm sure you all think my life is one long glamorous shimmering trail of good food, media interviews, visiting fantastic restaurants and artfully decorating my shabby chic residence. In reality I've been living on peanuts for years. Most of my furniture has been found on the street, all of the lovely retro French bits and pieces on my tables and shelves have been sourced at car boot sales, I have few clothes or toiletries and my Citroen C15 van was bought for £350 after the previous white van was totalled on the way to a disastrous blind date. Probably food is my biggest extravagance: I've always spent as much as I could afford and for The Underground Restaurant I frequently spend more than the recommended third on ingredients.
Monday to Thursday last week I drove back from the south of France via route nationale: no autoroutes (motorways with tolls) at all. It was slow but interesting, avoiding the deadening sameness of the motorway. My teen and I slept in the back of the van on a piece of hardboard and foam layered over my 'buys'. The van was perfumed with bushes of fresh bay leaves and rain water grown rosemary, a gift from my mother, and, later in the journey, with pungent cheeses, a fresh cows milk made by monks in the Bourgogne, and Maroilles from the country of the ch'tis, the northern French.
The radio stopped working so the teen read me stories as I drove from a short volume of the work of Philip K Dick; it was surreal, lulled by the scenery into his claustrophobic schizophrenic world view, so obviously a product of the cold war. The stories are laugh out loud funny, often accurate predictions of the future with the odd lapse such as "he put a new carbon paper in his typewriter".
On the way to Arras, I stopped at a relais routier restaurant. I wedged the door open with difficulty to be confronted by a grumpy old lady with black hairy chin moles and a cotton pinafore. The tables were set with red tablecloths, white paper napkins and duralex glasses.
"What do you want?" the lady growled.
"Er to eat lunch" I said adding "obviously".
"How many are you?" she barked.
"Two"
Her eyes narrowed. "Alright" she consented.
"Can I see today's menu?"
She opened a large sticky plastic backed tome at the bar. Inside were two pieces of paper containing shaky painstaking old person's handwriting. The menu was pure country French: rognons (kidneys) in red wine being one example. I knew the teen wouldn't go for the selection so I left. I wish I had eaten there though. In ten years or less I doubt places like that will exist anymore. It occurred to me that the demise of French cooking coincided with the rise of the autoroute. All those small roads with tiny restaurants, where the chefs are often mothers and grandmothers, are now neglected. On the autoroute the view is bland and so is the food. The authenticity and character has been ripped out of travelling for the sake of those great modern destroyers: convenience and speed.


iphone and rose sweets, travel sweets, you gotta have travel sweets... pic:siennamarla

Shopping bought in the parc de Morvan, another little known area for British tourists. In a small Spa supermarket I bought local fresh cheese, a bottle of rose vinegar, a bottle of stinging nettle vinegar, some local Auxerre burgundy.
We decided to camp wild in the Morvan forest. We made dinner. As it grew dark there were cracking sounds in the woods, coming closer. We knew there were wild pigs and deer. "Something is definitely watching us" said the teen. We quickly packed and moved to a proper campsite.


We passed through one village where all the local kids had made scarecrows from different materials, lining the route nationale. pic: siennamarla

 pic: the teen

At Vezelay, beautiful shop signs. pic: siennamarla


Vezelay is on the pilgrim's route to Santiago hence the shells.


A cross of peace carried by German ex soldiers interned near Vezelay after the second world war. In 1946 there was an international pilgrimage to Vezelay to celebrate 800 years since St. Bernard iniatiated the second crusade from Vezelay. 14 crosses from the UK, Luxemburg, Switzerland, Italy, Belgium were carried to Vezelay and the German soldiers insisted on joining. A fifteenth cross was hastily made for them to carry, becoming a powerful symbol of peace and reconciliation.

A basket full of prayers sent to Mary Magdalene, positioned below a shrine of her bones. Mary Magdalene represents prisoners.


A local shop, run by nuns, sells food, drinks and products made by religious christian orders.

Another shop sells beautiful blackboards (above) and crockery (below) pic: siennamarla


The 3rd night we camped near Laon, I fried up quenelles with a jar of northern african spicy aubergine salad. 

The back of the van filling up throughout the journey.

An old fashioned post office. pic: siennamarla

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Ferragosto:feeding the multitude


Foods containing the name Mary within, rosemary, marigold, are linked to Marian legends. Mary Gardens, popular in the middle ages, were walled gardens, such as where the Virgin Mary received a visit from the angel gabriel, The Annunciation, containing herbs and flowers. The three flowers most connected with the virgin are roses, lilies and iris. It was Jesus' mother who asked him to transform the water into wine at the wedding at Cana, so she obviously liked a drop.

The other biblical Mary, Magadalene, was associated with healing 'balm' or ointment and often pictured holding a white jar. Mary Magdalene's last days were spent in the south of France, not far from Aix en Provence. I went to visit her cave, an atmospheric place, filled with monks' chants, up stone steps carved out of a mountainside near St. Maximim la Sainte Baume a couple of years ago. Lawrence Gardner, in his book The Magdalene Conspiracy, maintains that Mary is not a name, but a title, like 'sister', which is why so many women in the bible are called Mary.

In Catholic Europe, the 15th of August, when Mary was 'assumed' into heaven, is a feast day. There will be fishes and loaves, fruit, (notably pears and pomegranates, both redolent of womb imagery and figs which clearly represent ladies' front bottoms and is actually Italian slang 'fica' for cunt) herbs, almonds and flowers. The colour blue, of Mary's cloak, representing heaven is also important in the symbology, whereas Mary Magdalene is generally pictured wearing a green cloak, the colour associated with the earth. The Henry VIII song 'Greensleeves' was reputedly about a prostitute, many of whom wore green in medieval times (to hide the grass stains?).

I've been playing around with ideas for this forthcoming Sunday's menu:
Rosemary walnuts
Breads
Communion wafers
Stuffed day lillies (if still out in my garden)
Red mullet in a salt crust
Cheeses made by monks or from areas associated with religion, like the Cathar cross.
Marigold custards or figs with mascarpone


Update on menu:
Looks like day lillies are finished.

So:
Bloody Mary
Rosemary walnuts
Marigold breads
Fennel, roasted apricot and pomegranate salad
Red Snapper stuffed with chervil and lemon in a salt crust
Roasted new potatoes

A selection of religious cheeses from Mons:
1.      Fromage Cathare
2.      Lingot de St Nicolas
3.      St Nectaire
4.      Abbaye de Tamie

Roasted figs with almonds, mascarpone and chocolate with communion wafers

Douwe Egberts coffee and French sweets such as Calissons (almond sweets from Provence) and ass milk pastilles.

Here are some fascinating and hilarious notes on the cheeses by Jon Thrupp of Mons:
Fromage Cathare  is made by the Frickers near Toulouse. Being an Alsace family they have confused, as do many, the Cathare cross for the Toulouse family Cross. Not quite the Medicis but near enough. The Cathares were the second heresy, They were accused of all sorts including sexual deviancy within families but really with a little distance, the world has come to read these deeply religious motives as nothing more than' we want your land, your culture and architecture as part of our kingdom, to charge you taxes and invite our guests to witness our new found splendour'.
Lingot de St Nicolas  is made by 6 Orthodox priests who live in the middle of nowehere. Not even the villagers two miles away know where they are. When it comes to six digit children of the hedges and thickets, these Herault locals are fighting for top spot. The monasteries run by Pere Gabriel are a living example of how the handouts cut back in the 13 hundreds by the Vatican really meant that these Priesthave had to go it alone and do all manner of things to survive. They have rustic provencal goats and infuse their goats cheese with thyme and lavender essence via a method that they will never share. This is their savoir faire. Not the first time a clergyman has been happy to keep me in the dark.
St Nectaire  made near St Nectaire and around is a cows milk cheese of enormous importance to the Auvergnat people, the most religious and pious of all Frances regions. Almost so that you could correlate wealth with the secular and the poor with the God fearers. Like with many poor areas of Europe, if you ask these cheesemakers why they do it they say: cause its what I know to do. Equally they are naïve about money so be warned to their nonsense. Our cheese makers are lovely, but men in black suits and black ties came and told them how to make their cheese and they took their advice verbatim. This is a sign that the meek are impressed by men in dark suits and dark ties and that they are not as murderous to outside culture as I first thought. Its a shame as their cheeses tend to taste less and less distinct. Reason being that they have followed a recipe which uses the same bacteria cultures and rennets as the next farm, reducing the specificity that comes of natural and local starters over those that come frozen in sachets from the men with dark ties and suits.
Tamie  Cheese made by a peer in the cheese making agricultural school of our Reblochon maturer. Frere Nathanael is an avant garde monk who has forged his name into history by being the first in the Savoie to industrialise in an artisanal space the cheese making process of a semi soft cheese. His interest is in consistency and he is of the opinion that human moods account for most of farmhouse cheese irregularityand so he has removed humans where possible to minimise time taken in the make and batch variation. Hes a a lovely man and embodies monk's talent for one-up-manship by being the only place to stay over for miles around their pass in the mountains and holding the power to feed travellers with his cheese at maximum retail mark-up. He also is one of the five places to date in France who uses a certain kind of bacteria to breakdown his whey into methane which he than uses to fuel 70 % of the energy used to look after the monasteries Cheese making output. Hes nothing other than a genius with big balls.

Wednesday, 4 August 2010

Palmiers, tricks and finds on the Cote d'Azure

These are made with pesto and black olive tapenade.


Petite astuce, a little tip, for a very easy canapé to go with drinks...'les palmiers': little biscuits that can be sweet or savoury.
Recipe:
Buy a roll of ready made puff pastry
To be filled with either:
Pesto
Pine nuts
Tapenade, black or green olive
Anchoiade, a creamy anchovy paste
Sun blushed tomatoes
Cheese

or if you want to make a sweet version:
cinnamon sugar
lavender sugar
raisins
crushed nuts such as almonds or hazelnuts
honey


Roll out your puff pastry.
Spread your chosen filling over the sheet of pastry.
From either side, start rolling the pastry towards the middle.
Both ends should meet in the middle.
Then cut 1/4 inch slices along your 'roll' and place on baking tray. (If the pastry doesn't cut well and has got too warm, place it in the freezer for five or ten minutes).
Bake on a high oven, 200C/400F, Aga roasting shelf, for ten minutes or then turn over the little biscuits and do the other side for five/ten minutes or until golden.
Serve hot, warm or cold with the aperitif.

And some more pictures of the South of France:

Violet garlic

I love the food packaging from Albert Ménès

A trio of cheeses: goat, sheep and cow

Wine in an ordinary French supermarket: yes that's the price, 1.5k! The cabinet is locked however.

Some gorgeous vintage seed packet covers I bought. The woman who sold me these proposed doing an Franco-British exchange, she was looking for vintage postcards of porn. "Those sell?" I asked. "J'ai des clients" she said darkly (I have clients).

Old and vintage typical Provencale skirts

Vintage pressure cookers

A 19th century jacket

Enameled temperature gages, some old, some new...


An enormous old clock face

My buys this last Sunday at le jas des robert: a cristal glass dish (8 euros), some tin moulds for jellies, blancmanges (6 euros all), seed packets each with 50 drawings (5 for 15 euros), a wooden 'basket' for displaying fish (10 euros), a vintage tea towel in linen (2.5 euros), some more blue/white/pink plates (less than a euro each).

My reward after a boiling morning's hunting: a little kir or pastis on the terrace of le Jas des Roberts restaurant. 

Then we go home and read...



The teen and cousin, with our beach bags: an Italian Co-Op reusable bag, a jute bag given for free at the Real Food Festival. Does the trick and is pas cher! #austeritychic