Chef Bainbridge: Inspiration

Some things nag at you for a while. Yes, indeed. This one has been nagging at me for just over two years now… cripes!

The great thing about social media is that, in the midst of composing my own meanderings, I am occasionally brought up short by the presence of much more accomplished, purposeful and committed people. I was completely side-tracked by a tweet from BENEDICTS Restaurant Head Chef, Richard Bainbridge. Posted on a day which would not recur for another four years, it really appealed to my interest in the creation of menus, especially the more developed and thoughtful menus of people who have devoted their life to the challenge of providing food for which I'll gladly pay.

Posted on Twitter - 11:27 AM - 29 Feb 2016 - Giving a new meaning to 'Chefs Table'

These few words accompany chef's picture:
"Spring is in the air !!! #inspiration @RestBenedicts..."

I scanned and scoured the picture until I was happy that I'd identified most of the books which Richard had chosen to use for his planning session.  This would be part of his 'spring clean' just nine months into opening the restaurant. It brought home to me the huge difference between what goes on in a professional kitchen and what I attempt at home. I will rarely plan meals for more than a week ahead, with a few extra considerations in the background for upcoming dinners with friends. In Norfolk a new season and new styles of cooking were being considered. Everything to be studied, embraced or rejected (maybe kept simmering for eventual use) and worked into new menus. With the added elements of deciding what is achievable, available, economical and viable in a commercial setting... not to mention having the confidence that the results of those decisions will appeal to diners. 

You can see from my unanswered question on the original tweet that one book at least remains a mystery (Yes, chef, I fully realise that you have a wealth of better things to do than slavishly review and respond to all social media... no offence taken!) but here are links to those which were definitely in the frame and on chef's desk at the time:

‘Heritage’ by Sean Brock
‘Relae: A Book of Ideas’ by Christian F. Puglisi
‘The Desserts of Jordi Roca: Over 80 Dessert Recipes Conceived in EL CELLER DE CAN ROCA’ by Jordi Roca
‘Daniel: My French Cuisine’ by Daniel Boulud
‘Bistronomy: French food unbound’ by Katrina Meynink
'Biota' by James Viles
'Sea and Smoke: Flavors from the Untamed Pacific Northwest' by Blaine Wetzel
'Atelier Crenn: Metamorphosis of Taste' by Dominique Crenn
'Kimchi: Essential Recipes of the Korean Kitchen' by Byung-Hi Lim
'The Nordic Cookbook' by Magnus Nilsson

I have some books with similar themes but none of those specific publications. 'Kimchi' is no surprise. At the beginning of each year food journalists are clamouring to predict what the trends will be for future months. In 2016 many had identified the fermenting of vegetables as a coming thing. This year one of the competitors from the most recent series of MasterChef: The Professionals has helped to put the fermented-related Kombucha in the spotlight (thank you Matthew Campbell). I'm pretty sure that neither Chef Bainbridge or Matt are really interested in 'trends'... but I expect they keep their options open in case a filthy great commercial deal to front 'flavour of the moment' comes along!

Trends alone will not provide the variety of flavours and cooking techniques which Richard offers. They might appear as an element but only if they complement and balance a dish. There might be other trends in the rest of the books on the desk but they would also distract from my main thrust here. Which rather forces me to focus on that thrust.

The reason I was brought up short by a seemingly simple picture was... erm, simple. I would love to have sat next to Richard on the day he took that picture for however many hours it took before he picked up a pan or a kitchen tool. If I was part of a group of keen like-minded cooks that would be great too. It would mean that Richard was running a session unlike any he has previously led except with his professional team. If any cooking ensued, fine. But, for me, it would be enough to join in the process of research and planning which ultimately leads to the creation of a brand new menu and deciding which excess exciting ideas are to be kept on the back burner.

Richard still offers demonstrations and gives talks. Here is his diary for this year. Much success and recognition have led to new commitments which have altered the complexion of courses run at Benedicts. So the chances of me sitting in on the creation of exciting new menus by this top chef are slim now. Maybe I should have contacted Richard two years ago to see if he needed a page-turner for 'The Nordic Cook Book'.

Maybe we should all message him now, two years later, and see if he might squeeze in a day which allows us to watch a magical menu being born.

A cookery class without any cooking isn't everyone's dream ... but it's an idea which I would love to see happen.

Mr Bean Visits Lincoln

Hooked you just to let you down. Sorry. OK, it's not that Mr Bean... but stay with me please, and I might convince you that it was worth taking my bait. 

Stephen Leighton is my 'Mr Bean'. I’ve publicly acknowledged some of the coffee pleasure which Steve and his incredibly industrious, efficient and responsive company have given me for over a decade here and here. As if the human element of the business wasn’t enough, the products they sell are consistently top quality. So when I found out that Steve would be breaking off from trips around the globe to his growers and suppliers I jumped at the chance to shake hands with someone who is responsible for a chunk of delicious enjoyment in my life.

I’ll do that horrible thing of linking to the lovely event which I enjoyed so much and you’ve already missed. No real malice intended. Switch to Coffee Aroma’s main Facebook feed from that events page. Facebook is your best option for information since their Twitter page is all but abandoned.

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My immediate reaction to seeing Steve in the flesh was mild disappointment. This disappointment dissipated distinctly and sensibly when I admitted to myself that it would be unfair to expect him to maintain the caffeine-crazed persona of the guy who has clobbered us with 488 episodes (as I write) of ‘In My Mug’. Let’s be clear. I consider being clobbered by a constant stream of education, entertainment and convincing slurping sounds in the face of excellent coffees to be a good thing. Watch one and see if you can resist viewing top-ups. No subscription needed for the videos but if you want to enjoy the main subject matter in your own home you could do much worse than signing up for regular bean delivery.

The observant among you will realise that I have broken my promise after writing this review of Coffee Aroma a while back. It must be said that my recent experience was much more positive. More great coffee and skilled and sympathetic attention from staff... but I didn't order cake this time!

Has Bean's coffee beans are in permanent residence at Coffee Aroma. I enjoyed a couple of them as I listened and chatted. Both brewed with a Chemex pour-over. The second, COSTA RICA FINCA LA PIRA RED HONEY CATURRA really shone with this brew style.

Talk about provision of coffee in Lincoln and the area was interspersed with Steve's enthusiastic accounts of the people who grow the product he is selling. He visits them, supports them and has developed lasting relationships which, when I consider them, bring a reassuring extra pleasure to my cup of coffee.

His book “Coffeeography: The Coffee Producers” documents many of those friendships which underpin a business where commercial gain is beautifully balanced by a love and respect for the people and communities which grow coffee worth drinking. The book perhaps gives more esoteric information than you need if you are simply wanting to enjoy delivery of superior beans. After eleven years I was ready to add that extra backdrop to my experience.

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The following morning I reflected on the event with a slice of home-baked wholemeal bread and last summer’s red gooseberry jam. My breakfast cup contains a double shot of black tea, cherry blossom, lemon peel and pomegranate. From Has Bean? Erm… yes. Don't let those slightly 'Pseud's Corner' descriptions put you off either. The flavour profiles in so many beans are very different and distinct. And I still haven't drunk enough of them to do without a little expert help to consider and appreciate the glorious subtleties.

Steve's book would have been terrific without any personalisation but it is rather pleasing to have that reminder of a day I was able to get closer to the man who has been (#boomtish) a constant companion in my world of coffee enjoyment.

Oh, and placing my brew in left-handed mode strained my OCD to the limit. But, since Steve is also a world expert in red 'Sharpie'-drawn cup placement, I bow to his superior knowledge!

Below is the empty bag after the last beans for my morning brew had been ground. Leaving me with just one further bag. What followed could have been panic. It might be that the coffee had given me renewed strength to flex my online shopping muscle. Whichever it was, I had selected my next batch of beans and received order confirmation before Lorraine had introduced her first guest that morning.

Click on the riotous red for a link to coffee Nirvana... well, somewhere pretty near to Vana. If this particular bean is out of stock, you'll find scores of great alternatives.

Big thanks to Coffee Aroma and co-host, Keith Parkins. Do read his version of events here. Steve, of course, has my continued thanks for setting up his business eighteen years ago and for allowing me to discover him seven years later.

Just one more thing. Whether it's by email contact or if you're lucky enough to meet him, you should always ask for an update on Steve's beloved Sunderland AFC. You'll get lovely matching reds of his hair and his embarrassment every time!

Tossers Everywhere

Jay Rayner always seems good value for money to me. Not that I’ve ever parted with cash to see him or listen to him. Doing either or both of those is still a perfect possibility as I am often tempted by his tours of the ‘Ten (food) Commandments’, 'Dining Hell' and his concerts with the Jay Rayner Quartet.

Lots of other opportunities to enjoy his critiques and food journalism, of course, with radio, TV and newspapers providing regular relatively free access.

I never tire of his flagrant self-promotion on Twitter but I do rather prefer his occasional barbed posts revealing a grumble and a gripe which usually merits a follow-up. Here is the latest Rayner Rant to catch my eye.

Not too much response came on that one. A nipple-twister was mentioned and, naturally, someone wanted them to be outed. No-one gainsaid the Burton-Race condemnation. I decided to delve a little. Some would find strong elements of ‘tosser’ in a chap who has given up on two marriages and goodness knows how many children. But I’m sure Jay Rayner bases his censure on more than criticism of an individual’s private life and opinions.* “There but for the grace of any god who doesn’t exist...” as Mr Rayner and I would say. And since we agree on that one, I obviously had to discover a different angle.
* Well, maybe not

A visit to the Burton-Race restaurant website disappointingly gave me immediate results.

“This is a restaurant where you can enjoy Michelin-starred cuisine at the highest standard while feeling completely at ease.”

Now I am as guilty of exaggeration as the next sixty-six year-old adonis who hasn’t yet traded in his stud card for a free travel pass. But the choice of words which greeted the casual enquirer after Torquay tucker didn’t so much stretch a point as lay out a lie and say, “Go on, challenge that if you dare.”

I dared to challenge…. and found so little resistance that all was resolved and returned to a semblance of honesty within twenty-four hours.

A shot across the bow

The dull thud of clarification

Before and After

In those twenty-four hours the restaurant gave up at least one Michelin star which it had never been awarded. Misrepresentation could have come from an over-zealous employee but I know that a talented chef wouldn’t dream of being so out of control of his business. Therefore, I conclude that John Burton-Race merits the tosser tag. He shall retain it until such reasonable time has elapsed in which he shows signs of continuing to do much better.

Since my intervention the website has had a bit of further review and the content is, apart from a few grammatical errors, in much better shape. No suggestion that Chef Burton-Race is necessarily cooking for you – but I’m sure he has had input which will add interest to your dining… tinged as it will be by elements of tosser.

‘Tossers Everywhere’ demands more than one tosser. I’ll do my best to reveal some others. This will continue to focus on restaurants and chefs. So I feel compelled to add at this point that I spend a huge amount of time verbally defending the wonderful, harsh, often dangerously teetering hospitality industry and I continue to willingly pay out around 20% in gratuities to the vast majority of establishments who prove so often to be utterly magnificent.

The tossers I identify next are intimately connected to that magnificent world. Like me, they visit it as paying customers. Specifically, in my region, they pay to eat at ‘Winteringham Fields’. And a lot of those are honorary tossers since they insist on believing that they are dining at a Michelin-starred restaurant. I must point out that the restaurant does nothing to overtly encourage them in that respect. The area has no Michelin stars. Even a Bib Gourmand escapes ‘The Fields’. Colin McGurran’s team certainly get their knife and fork icons highlighted in red. This means that they are good enough to be under consideration for an upgrade. Which is why I am disappointed by the regular reports from so many whose understanding is that they have paid for and enjoyed Michelin-starred cuisine at the Winteringham venue. Two Michelin stars disappeared along with Swiss chef, Germain Schwab, fifteen years ago. Ignorance is bliss, I guess. And since I’ve never personally corrected anyone I am guilty of helping to perpetuate that ignorance... maybe with misplaced kindness. I know that staff there at present have the capacity for stuffiness which extends to rude disdain for diners. The restaurant featured on a Gordon Ramsay TV venture some years ago and he was quick to identify the fact that customers were oppressed by over-zealous and fawning servers. Subsequent snippets of Chef McGurran on GBM only suggest that he leads by example. I’m not encouraged to conduct a costly test of my strong suspicion that tossers abound in the kitchen and around the tables in the Scunthorpe countryside.

Having mentioned the Ramsay name I might as well confirm that he hovers over all in my pantheon of culinary tossers. His “Idiot Sandwich” may be a spoof video made in support of charity but it reflects far too closely the way in which he chooses to present himself. It is such a vile image that I allow it to take precedence over any of his stunning accomplishments in cooking. I made a pineapple dessert from his sumptuous ‘*** CHEF’ volume ten years ago. I’ve never felt seriously inclined to reference the book since.

Allow me to introduce the tosser who came to my mind as soon as Mr Rayner got this whole party started. All the way back to late 2013. Lurpak UK’s Facebook page had attracted my attention and I was getting notifications of new posts. I don’t remember exactly what prompted me to try out the ‘Search Google for Image’ facility but it opened up a can of worms… a can of tossers, I suppose. After emailing about thirty mainly North American food bloggers I received confirmation from just about all of them that their photographic work had been appropriated and used without permission by the Lurpak page. It was pretty much open season as far as they were concerned. Even Jamie Oliver’s food stylist and photographer was not spared.

Emails from Lurpak explaining their behaviour as an “oversight” were pretty much laughable. Is it an oversight to deliberately crop out the watermark of someone’s work? Amber Parkin assured me that “… we will endeavour to be more discerning in our image choices and review our sign off process.”

I found out that this cavalier (that’s another word for acting like a tosser) behaviour was overseen by ‘Outside Line’, a digital agency which had already been acquired by Saatchi and Saatchi but was still run by co-founder Ant Cauchi. Incidentally, I was pretty disgusted to discover that they also handled Andy Murray’s digital marketing at the time.

Eventually I was contacted from the very top of the tosser totem pole… by Mr Ant Cauchi himself. His offer of a face to face meeting at which he wanted to explain “… how we work with partners and media owners.” was dripping with enough slime for me to discard it immediately. A simple admission that he promoted an environment where people are encouraged to steal intellectual property was obviously beyond him.

By early 2014 the Lurpak site was unrecognisable. A wholesale review of practice had transformed their Facebook posts. The page was awash with credited photos and recipes with links to many of those aforementioned food blog sites.

By the middle of that year it appeared that the positive changes might be sustained when Holler won the digital business account. “The incumbent was the Saatchi & Saatchi agency Outside Line, which did not repitch.”

I am happy to think that I might have prodded a company into moral and ethical behaviour which had been seriously lacking under Mr Cauchi’s watch.

Let’s lighten up and move from total tosser to transient tosspot, shall we.

A couple of weeks ago self-confessed pastry deviant, Calum Franklin, was alerted to the very strange apparition of his work on Jason Atherton’s Twitter and Instagram feeds. An odd orangey filter was no barrier to many recognising the achingly careful skills on display in a Holborn Dining Room product. The hashtag #analpastry, although off-putting, does seem appropriate.

Someone always seems to record things for posterity. The offending twit (tweet) captured.

The Twitter alarm bells were heard at The Social Company and all was soon smoothed over. 

Jason Atherton. Embarrassed, contrite, apologetic... hopefully not too apopleptic.

I don't think anyone lost their job over this one but I don't think it's likely to happen again soon.

Right, I'll be busy for the next couple of days. I need to trawl through the posts I've published here over the last three and a half years to check for squeaky-clean attributions, provenances and permissions given... tossers everywhere, you know.

Salt, Stratford-upon-Avon

Lunch - 9 February 2018

Our first experience of Salt was in June 2017. We had backed the Kickstarter run by chef Paul Foster and his wife Rhiain and our reward was a lovely Tasting Menu lunch. And then it was October and Jay Rayner published his review in The Observer. And then chef could finally stop crapping himself!

Mr Rayner’s experience and reaction was very much in line with ours. Close enough to stop me writing even a late review of my own. All the elements he identifies were enjoyed by us. Even the violent and bloody trauma of the RSC’s production of ‘Titus Andronicus’ later in the day couldn’t diminish happy memories of that meal.

On this second visit we ordered from the à la carte menu.

There was temporary distraction from good quality olives and smoked almonds. Deeper distraction arrived with the malted ‘mini muffin’ breads and ‘that’ house butter which smells and tastes fecund enough to be the product of intimate foreplay. No, I’m not trying to put you off. What... you’re booking a table now? That’s the ticket.

Two great starters arrived.

My Cured halibut, cep ragu, yellow chanterelles, crispy onion was fresh and deceptively gentle before deeper flavours took over. The fish was perfect. Melt-in-the-mouth raw. Raw but not raw. Mushrooms were given a light touch for the ragu and in the gently pickled chanterelles. The smoky tang of onion 'scraps' provided the final contrasts of flavour and texture.

Slow cooked duck egg, celeriac velouté, Dorset merguez
The richness of Mrs Cheoff’s bowl was insistent. It couldn’t be much otherwise given the trusted, classic ingredients. Two types of soupy, relatively sloppy components with the egg and the velouté. But the 'sausage' had been given enough surface crisp to restore textural balance. Indulgent stuff.

Mangalitsa pork, malted artichoke, salted pear, sprouting broccoli
This main was my high point of the meal. No good having a superb ingredient unless it is cooked with respect and understanding. Chef did not let me down. More importantly the supplier and the beast itself were not let down. Whatever had been done to the pear (brined, sous-vide… salt-baked?) it ate, skin and all, as the most perfect, firm but succulent fruit that you might wish for. Malted artichoke is one of those things which you can expect from Paul. An unassuming dab of something which suddenly reveals glorious texture and, even better, unexpected depth of flavour. I had cut off all the pork fat for eating. Its flavour will stay with me along with just a very few other food memories which are at the top of my dining out hit parade. I left a medallion of the meat. On the recovery phase of a stinking cold, I was so grateful that my nose and palate were pretty much back in working order. My appetite wasn't quite up to speed.

Hogget, lamb rump, hispi cabbage, goat’s curd
This was probably a slightly misjudged choice for Mrs C who, because she loves all things lamby, was following her starter with equally rich challenges in the main. That said, the ingredients and cooking shone out again. There is a lack of fuss in presentation here but ragged slices of hogget mean that a diner can choose how much of the fatty delights to trim for setting aside or for eating. In the end the richness was not quite balanced out by what should have been sharper and fresher hits from curd, cabbage leaf and monk’s beard. No matter… but it shows how more time spent exploring and understanding a menu with help from servers is not wasted.

We made a delightful revisit to off-dry German Riesling. Wines are cleverly chosen here and are offered at a sensible mark-up.

So far two thirds of our meal, four sixths if you like, had given large degrees of deliciousness, met with enjoyment and appreciation. But then our desserts arrived and the sweetness began to wane.

Papouasie milk chocolate, spiced orange cake, barley crisp
There was little wrong with any part of my finale except that it was a mean helping. Please understand that I have spent much time arguing with friends who manage to bemoan portion sizes considerably larger than my offering. I will always defend a chef who, in my opinion, has done enough to make us slow down and enjoy their creativity and hard work. But the rather wonderful cake here was served as four cubes no bigger than gaming dice. I cut each in two to prolong appreciation. My appetite was still sharp enough to hope for a more generous crisp than was offered. The rocher of chocolate was just perfect... but couldn't distance that feeling of being a little cheated.

If my pudding seemed lacking in generosity, Mrs C's appeared to suffer as well from the absence of decent ingredients.
Rhubarb, buttermilk ice cream
I suppose this might have been conceived as a riff on rhubarb crumble and ice cream. It did not satisfy anywhere in composition or delivery. A measly teaspoon of pink compote and a strangely tasteless green variety chopped into half centimetre chunks was all that represented the oh-so-seasonal rhubarb. Maybe there was a reference to the old-style way of dipping a raw stem into sugar but it didn't work. Cold and crunch from the two other elements but much confusion. Confusion mixed with much disappointment at the meagreness of it.

When the Facebook site offered a picture of a properly developed and finished dish shown below, it strongly suggested what can be achieved. Luscious pink rhubarb, bright peeled pistachios, whole and ground in an oily cake. Perhaps a sorrel granita? Included in a three course lunch at the same price as ours. More like it.

A good-looking dessert on offer from Salt for Mother's Day on Sunday 11th March 2018.

We fizzled out on a tea and a coffee without the accompaniment of petits fours. I’m not sure if this was an oversight or the result of their normal exclusion at lunch service.

Not a complete disaster but a stark contrast with our first meal. I don't know if the Grand Poobah of Gourmandise (that's you, Mr Rayner!) has returned like us. I hope he saw more consistency if he has or will see when he does. And if Mr or Mrs Michelin are visiting, they will demand that consistency before elevating chef and team to Bib Gourmand and beyond. They don't allow for excuses.

I don't have any stars to give out of course... but I can offer a possible excuse. We might have booked on the wrong day. Later, as we returned from seeing Edward 'Eddie' Elizabeth Hitler and others staging 'Twelfth Night' with great style my Twitter feed alerted me to another event in town that night.

So it's perfectly possible that our shiny stars at what must still be the top restaurant in Stratford had been distracted earlier by thoughts of impending glory. Glory for which I heartily congratulate them. All I ask is that they get back quickly to polish up their act and continue to do what they do best. Just do it even better. More often.

And we'll be back to check up on them... promise.

Family Favourites - Gunpowder Pot

You all have at least a few favourite recipes which are returned to with the trust that they will continue to deliver. Please tell me that you do... I'm sure I'm not alone.

The turkey carcass is dealt with. Stock has been made. Vegetables were added and we have enough turkey soup in the freezer to feed a small regiment.

Mrs. Cheoff eyed up the excess celery and leeks and took over the kitchen. Yes, I did suffer withdrawal symptoms... no matter. Out came the cutting from a 'Dairy Diary'. The book was offered annually by our milkmen and milkwomen back in years when our front door received an early morning delivery of the white stuff. This recipe was snipped out and saved and definitely steps up as one of our 'Family Favourites'.

It almost certainly appeared in the pages of the diary very close to November the 5th but it is a warmer of winter right the way through. Firework season might be over but like many vegetable-heavy dishes you can still expect a few explosions after enjoying this little cracker... Frrrrp!

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From the early 1980s?

No sense lingering. The recipe is here for you. Feel free to make it. And make it one of your own family favourites. 

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* Double up the recipe for frozen supplies if you will.

Gravetye Manor - A Day In The Kitchen

I have already enjoyed the experience of eating at Gravetye Manor as a paying customer. More recently I was able to spend time in the kitchen alongside the team who prepare food to the consistently high standard which earns a star. The Michelin Guide awards a further star for a restaurant worth a detour. Since I took a five hundred mile round trip each time to eat and to 'work' there, Gravetye already has a two star rating from me!

You now have the daunting task of staying with me and reading my account here. I have dealt with events as best as I could. Advance apologies for inaccuracies, including names of the people I met and their proper job titles. My organisation and attention to detail does not match theirs.

The day arrived. Chef George Blogg had written, “How does 9am sound?… We work until about 10.30pm.” The coward in me had thought, “I can always make my excuses and slope off after morning coffee if I can’t hack it.”

By half past ten (a.m!) my calf muscles were in persistent ache mode and my right hip was reminding me that it is not in the best of order… and I was fully and irrevocably decided that I would ignore those and any other negative signals and enjoy one of the best days of my life outside those with my family and close friends.

I have split up my text rather arbitrarily with the stages of a restaurant visit. Not ideal but at least it will give you a chance to draw breath, even stop for a while, and decide, like me, if you have the resolve to carry on!

APÉRITIF

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My visit came on the 31st which meant that elements of the new, monthly-changing menu were being prepared while well-practised courses went out for the last time. Not strictly true... there is a little sensible seasonal repetition and sometimes a dish is just too good to be discontinued. But it did make for a delightful confusion as far as I was concerned as I witnessed a wealth of ideas being brought to life before me.

For the early part of the day commis pastry chef Henry made me warmly welcome and we discussed sour dough starters, flour suppliers and parental wisdom on what to avoid discussing with a prospective partner on a first date. It’s not all about food, you know! Doughs were at various stages of preparation and I eventually tried to shape breakfast rolls. Two at a time. My right hand occasionally succeeded but the left is in detention after completely refusing to co-operate. I filled conical brioche bun tins with slightly more sticky success. I brushed rose petals from Tom Coward’s garden with egg white and sprinkled them with rose sugar to be dried for eventual adornment of afternoon teas. That sugar is powerful stuff. Opening the container releases a pungency sweeter and more heady than a score of English country gardens.

Amuse-bouche: Mistaken Identity
A recurring theme when introduced to a new member of the brigade was being asked where I had worked previously and how long I was now contracted to be at Gravetye.
A few years back, Mrs. Cheoff gifted me a chef’s jacket and checkered apron. At home I usually don them just before friends arrive for a meal and greet them with something like, “We’re very busy… have you booked?” I changed into this for the day at Gravetye and I guess they gave me false credentials. It’s always lovely to have an ego boost but I did correct each misguided individual immediately. I reckon I gave them enough subsequent evidence to confirm that I was just a keen but casual visitor.

Chef appeared in our section just before ten. There was no quick, polite introduction followed by George Blogg's disappearance to do ‘more important things’. Instead, he began to include me in a conversation which flowed through the day. I had brought notes with prompts for questions to ask but these were deliberately discarded as I realised how much was going on around to feed my curiosity. Chef by no means devoted all his time to me but I felt that he would always be available with much more attention than I had expected. And, of course, the whole brigade are given that same attention. Through great time management Chef is constantly questioning and responding to those around him so that they are fully occupied in sustaining a standard and pushing it to further heights. 

I was kept busy while lunch service started by collecting and mixing ingredients for an 'Olive Oil & Pistachio Cake', also intended for afternoon teas. Henry needed his book of notes and recipes to work with elsewhere so he quickly transcribed the ingredients for me.

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It was a rather emotional choice of recipe. A recipe that is not really so unusual or too difficult to make. But it appears in 'essence', the first cookbook by David Everitt-Matthias. And George Blogg spent formative time with David at 'Le Champignon Sauvage'. And I first knew of George through reading David's work. Thoughts of the love and respect which I have for those two joined the mix as the kitchen whisk and paddle turned. Yup... emotional.

Amuse-bouche: Better Late Than Never
On my way to return the box of pistachio paste I realised that I’d forgotten exactly where the dry store was. Along the corridor came Head Sommelier, Alexis Jamin, and I asked him for help. After he had pointed me in the right direction, I took the opportunity to thank him personally for his recommendations when we dined in March 2017. He had only just arrived at Gravetye then. I do trust he is becoming a permanent fixture… he is yet another reliable member of the team.

STARTER

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Before going further I might as well confirm that the ‘C’ word was freely used through the day. This is more than understandable... it is easily justified. ‘Chef’ is regularly consulted as the driving force here and criticisms, corrections and confirmations are regularly sought from him in the pursuit of excellence. As for any other professional kitchen stereotypes of rich but foul language and threatening behaviour... forget them. You might hear an occasional self-addressed curse from the perpetrator of individual mistakes but the inescapable feeling here is that everyone is treated as an integral part of a thrust towards developing something special in a quiet and determined way. In 2016 viewers of 'MasterChef: The Professionals' were impressed by the care and empathy which George showed in mentoring competitors. It was no put-up job for the cameras. I witnessed it through the entire day I was there. Bookings are still made on the back of that TV coverage. Can such an attitude promote clarity, honesty and excellence which is ultimately translated onto each plate in the Gravetye dining room? I strongly suggest that it can and does.

I spent just enough minutes in the kitchen at lunch service to be offered a trimming from some quail and a spoonful of lightly spiced quinoa. I was to be given what amounted to a feast later. An extended review about the depth of flavours in those two midday mouthfuls could easily follow. Don't panic... I've decided to let you off and bludgeon you with the rest of the days events instead.

After lunch service there was talk of foraging for acorns and I had thought that a company of us would set out. In the end Chef, having received requests for pickings of cavolo nero and sorrel, motioned to just me and we were off to the garden. So I was treated to a priceless one-to-one chat with a great member of the culinary profession. 

George looked fondly at the screen of Jerusalem artichokes which had started to produce early this particular season. Tom Coward and his team ensure that there is constant inspiration growing a few yards from the kitchen. Other restaurant gardens appear wonderful but many can't truly support the quality asked for by their chefs. Gravetye's certainly does. We talked about the importance of the garden and the careful sourcing of suppliers of equal quality who are referenced in the restaurant menu.

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We distracted ourselves with talk of celebrity chefs and by sampling slices of apple from espalier growth. George immediately mused on a dish in which the particular variety of apple might shine. With a sweep of his hand he encompassed the whole garden and smiled at his great fortune that its bounty is on his doorstep. 
He glossed quickly over characters who maintain a high profile in the media. No resentment or disdain there... but I think that the notion of celebrity is regarded as an unwanted distraction from his kitchen and his restaurant diners.
I was pretty sure that Phil Howard's name would come up and when it did George spoke of him with great affection. At the Square and at Le Champignon Sauvage, George was not only influenced by refined cooking skills and inquisitive approaches, he was in the company of two more very intelligent people. George worked in kitchens from age fifteen but graduated in Geology before letting his true passion take over. Chefs communicate in immediate and important ways through their understanding and mastery of flavour. But something special happens in kitchens such as Gravetye's. I believe that great chefs like George and his prime mentors bring their gifted abilities to the plate alongside a deep intelligence. This can push their food to extremes of complexity. Then comes the art of drawing back, at least some of the time, so that as many people as possible can enjoy their creation. If a particular dish stops you in your tracks and forces you to eat more thoughtfully I would suggest that the chef is actually asking for a fuller understanding of that dish.
I am all for a punch in the solar plexus from the swelling emotion of a symphony’s final movement but I still want to know more about what inspired that emotion in a composer and how it found expression. A good restaurant meal gives that same visceral impact but on this day I was on the other side of things and soaking up so much more about creative drive and its potential from Chef and his brigade. It was a glorious treat.

Erk. Got a bit highfalutin there. Sorry.

Amuse-bouche: The Night Porter – Part One
After my garden walk with Chef I made a cup of tea in the rest room and met Javier. He is the hotel night porter. He is also a wonderfully intelligent and thoughtful human being. We chatted about his native Spain, his love of architecture and of physical geography. Javier delights in the quiet beauty of the Sussex countryside which surrounds Gravetye. Back to architecture, and I discovered that both his faith and his secular interests have seen him visit many English cathedrals. He was almost jealous that I live so close to the winner of #cathedralworldcup, which is one he’s missed so far. It was a privilege to talk briefly but with such meaningful depth to Javier. I hope he will manage that trip to Lincoln one day.

Everyone is offered a late afternoon meal before dinner service starts and I enjoyed a chicken and mushroom pie. Needless to say, it was perfectly seasoned. 

MAIN

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Amuse-bouche: J Chokes
Shortly before dinner service, Sous Josh asked me to prep some Jerusalem Artichokes. Below is the result of my efforts. And that blue band around my finger in the header picture for this post is covering the result of a snick when all but four of the little devils were peeled.
#BadgeOfHonour

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I had watched Josh form mini quenelles of beef tartare earlier in the day. Prepped for canapés, they were now needed as diners had begun to order pre-dinner drinks. Josh showed me how to control a squeezy bottle to deliver a small, neat dob of horseradish mayonnaise and then finish with garden garnish. Crisp blades of dehydrated cavolo nero, liberally seasoned with vinegar salt were going out as well. A sort of pearl barley mini 'arancini' completed the trio on offer. These were brought over as needed by Collins after warming. And then Josh dropped the mini bombshell on me that I would be calling "Service" on the canapés. It was a lovely gesture which rested on us both knowing that I had immediate support at hand. But I managed to get through with a few words of encouragement and minimal physical intervention. It was assembly of prepared elements but I still felt the weight of responsibility. I plated the last table of six as three pairs and had to change them in a hurry to two triplets. My chance to experience just a hint of the pressures of the professional kitchen but all went out with approval... phew!

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'Mis en place' for dinner service with stoves opposite for heating and saucing

The complexity of food on offer for dinner meant that I was happy to stand back and watch as the brigade delivered. I did ask questions and made mental notes which would inform my cooking at home. Some of those questions were answered with offerings from the night's menu items.

Amuse-bouche: Consistency
Chloé was at her stove cooking every piece of Halibut, Southdown Lamb, Pine Smoked Fallow Venison (oof, the aroma - wow, the texture and flavour!), Wood Pigeon and Norfolk Quail for this service. Faggots, meat bonbons and confit legs were all sent to the pass along with them. In the entire evening Chef questioned one pigeon breast as a little 'under'... and then relented and admitted that it would be perfect after resting. As the evening progressed I tasted trimmed pieces from all of the meats before plating. Chloé's efforts get first prize from me - but she is just one of a team of gold medallists.

Chef had obviously decided that I needed extra sustenance and called on Collins to prepare one of the evening's starters for me. See it below before I poured in the vegetable dashi. 

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Cured Hampshire Chalk Stream Trout - red beetroot tartare, trout roe, tagetes and a garden vegetable dashi

Collins is from Andorra, speaks French, Spanish and English and had only worked in the kitchen for one month. I popped in a touch of foreign language skills practice with him and Chloé. My verdict on the trout was "Un véritable triomphe!" I think Collins already knew.
Chef explained why he had chosen the particular fish. Its habitat is the secret to its fresh, clean taste with none of the 'muddiness' of other catches. A stunning dish. Delicate but insistent flavours for the most part... but then that hit of tagetes reminds you how one small element can elevate an already exalted dish.

Amuse-bouche: The KP
I’d seen Iñaki at his sinks behind the pastry section earlier in the day and exchanged a few words in English... Basque is beyond me! As the cooking of the dinner service progressed I noticed that the 'batterie de cuisine' of used pots, pans and tools was disappearing and magically returning in a pristine state, ready for further use. I don’t claim to comprehend the full mysteries of a kitchen porter’s training but I do now have a theory that they undergo Ninja training which allows them to ghost in and out of kitchens. Iñaki delivers stealth and infiltration at black belt level... everyone benefits and no-one gets harmed!

DESSERT

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Starters and mains were all out by now and cleaning down had started but the pastry section were still at work ensuring a memorable end to each diner's night. Henry prepared a fresh mix for raspberry crumble soufflés while Head Pastry Chef Ashley produced the final flourish for his last table... and the smaller tasting menu version for me! 

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Coriander and Coconut Parfait - bergamot sorbet, coconut macaroon and coriander cress

No rum... but still a heady cocktail of tropical seduction. The chiller drawer at his station ensured perfect texture for sorbets and ice creams but their consistent delivery in perfectly formed rochers was down to Ashley. His calm and control had been matched throughout the evening by every person working in the kitchen. There was complexity but a total attention to detail dismissed all trace of confusion. 

Amuse-bouche: The Night Porter – Part Two
The rest room has a wall on which are posted photos of the ‘Gravetye Family’. I was taking snaps of these for reference when Javier pointed to the top of the pyramid. There was Andrew Thomason, Managing Director. I can’t report Javier’s exact words but they were close enough to these… “That man is a truly wonderful person. He cares about each and every one of us. He will always stop to talk and this place could never be what it is without him.” To have someone from the base of the pyramid extol the virtues of one at its apex does rather shatter the idea that the pyramid exists in any important hierarchical sense. At any rate, Javier made it perfectly clear that the Gravetye family does exist and that he feels very much a part of it.

For one day I became an honorary member of the family. One final confirmation came as I walked through the stillroom towards Chef's office. Zoltan, also on his way home, said his farewell to me as if we had worked side by side for years. 
I had arrived, excitedly, with hopes of understanding more about what I might achieve at home with some input from professionals. I certainly took away inspiration and guidance in that respect but a much more valuable aspect of my day was what the whole team joined to give... the knowledge that a group of people can work without conflict to achieve excellence.  
I went into George's office and tried to thank him for all that I had been given. There was not enough time and there never seem to be the exact right words on such an occasion. I had prepared my own gifts and eventually sent a more considered response in writing.

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Chef then did one of those things which, on reflection, is perfect. He sent me on my way with a loaf of sourdough from the morning bake.  All the stunning effort and culinary achievement which I had witnessed will stay with me for an age. But I will always remember leaving with what everyone is given by the Gravetye kitchen... a simple, honest offering of love through food.

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For a few more pictures of my day, follow this link to a new gallery.

COFFEE AND PETIT FOURS

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Two days after my visit George Blogg proudly posed in the same place as I had taken one of my pictures. The Michelin Guide's plaque displaying star status for 2018 had just arrived.

TAXI!

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Things are now changing dramatically at Gravetye which closed on the 2nd of January at the start of a truly exciting project. The restaurant is to be transformed by breaking down barriers between it and the wonderful garden. The website now has a tantalising countdown until Gravetye reopens on the 7th of May. 
You can still explore hotel and restaurant bookings and the closure has thrown up lovely opportunities to enjoy courses at nearby Kingscote Vineyard. Garden and flower workshops are there but you will understand that the most attractive to me are those with Chef George Blogg! 
Whatever you decide upon, Gravetye will continue to give rich satisfaction.

The Christmas Ham

Please visit your local butcher for a gammon joint. You might buy free range, smoked or slum it with Danish... but you will be able to get advice on how long to soak to reduce the effects of salty curing.
Once you have a decent piece of piggy goodness all that remains is to choose some flavour profiles and to calculate cooking time. Oh, boiling or roasting must be taken into consideration as well. 
I chose to boil. Below is the aftermath of my gammon joint simmering. I dithered around and decided to use cans of Cola, Barley 'wine', shallots, chillies and coriander seeds for the cooking liquor. 

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After cooling there were plenty of areas for slicing and a few for just cutting into chunks for risotto and the like. 

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The cuts below will provide one element of Boxing Day's 'cold collation'. I refuse to trim that fat. Hey, if someone's suffering from a bit of a chest infection they can render it down and rub on the affected part! #GrandmasRemedy

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Skin and string were confined to the refuse bin but Cheoff did allow himself a little reward with that wodge of tender and tempting meatiness at nine o'clock.

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Keep those cooking juices. That is an irrefutable order. Court martial will ensue for anyone who does refute. 

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Here is one reason why you keep the juices. Skimmed of fat, I reduced 750ml to a sumptuous saucerful of sticky glaze. Just terrific. Initial sweetness and reminders of pork dripping are soon replaced by a warm chilli hit. This will certainly be adorning some pork belly or ribs in the near future.

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All the results of a three hour cooking session are now ready to be enjoyed on a plate alongside piccalilli or crab apple jelly. Some will find its way into a bun or between slices of bread. None of it will be presented as a centrepiece looking like a clove-studded version of Pinhead from 'Hellraiser'. 

No apologies. The ham this year was not a production for visual delight. I discarded appearance (scoring, studding and glazing) in favour of flavour. And that is exactly what I now have to share in abundance.
 

Just in case this is my last post before festivities begin in earnest... Merry Christmas to all!