Your Entrée is Served…
There are certain chefs or food writers who claim their love of cuisine is ‘innate’; that since they were knee high to an aga they found themselves sitting under the kitchen table, dusted with flour and receiving delectable little tit-bits from the ample-bosomed grandmamma/mother/housekeeper who ruled the kitchen.That was not the case in my house. For one thing, a respectable B cup runs in the Milford women, and for another the kitchen was more a place where dogs roamed, folders were strewn, and seed cuttings nudged against the tuberous potatoes that were still grimed with soil from the garden. Food was never a big thing, nor family meals. Everyone was always somewhere. And what with having a vegetarian father and a mother who absolutely despised being caught over a stove, and would faff if she were called upon to make gravy, then no one really taught me about cooking, per se.
But for me food isn’t just about the edible product, it’s also the description. That scene in Wind in the Willows where Ratty and Moley go boating? I can’t tell you how many times I tried to recreate their hamper. And the Famous Five were great when they were solving mysteries, but what really piqued my interest was when they’d all settle down for a jolly picnic. All those carefully cut sandwiches and lashings of ginger beer! In reality there must have been a war on, and so the sandwiches were most likely filled with revolting fish paste or some kind of spam concoction, but those were exotic to my young mind. Food was all about transportation.
And that is still true now. It remains a way of seeing the world – of being introduced to another culture. There’s nothing like wandering the markets in an exotic country, or ordering something off the menu that you can’t pronounce, let alone guess the ingredients for. A tang of chilli and lime can send you back to Asia. Cumin or turmeric evoke India. The creaminess of guacamole reminds you of South America.
There’s also the social aspect. I love to host dinner parties, where the wine is flowing, friends are laughing, and no one can remember what was served for dessert the next day. I rarely cook just for myself – there’s nothing more depressing than coming up with the perfect flavour combination and have no one to crow over it with – but when it’s a shared experience, it’s magic.
And food can soothe. We’ve all got our weaknesses, be it buttered crumpets or beans on toast. On a rainy day there’s nothing nicer than a groaning cheese board and a bottle of pinot noir.
Predominantly, food is great to share. We can’t get enough of people uploading photos of their breakfast. We talk about what we’ve cooked, or what we had for dinner last night. We become critics of visited restaurants. We discuss recipes we want to try.
So that is what this site is about – what you’ve been eating. In my role as cheif blogger I’ll be keeping you entertained with stories, experience, and general foody news that I think you’ll find interesting.
And although didn’t grow up knowing how to present the perfect soufflé, there is one thing I feel qualified to chat about – stuffing my face.
Article by Today I’m Eating Blogger Rebecca Milford.