Sunday 26 April 2015

Milton Keynes Food Awards - Best Local Produce catagory

Well hose me down and tickle my nipple, I've only gone and joined the judging team for the MK Food Awards 2015!

I'm still not entirely sure what the hell happened, but absurdly early on Saturday morning I found myself in front of a table in the Michelin starred Paris House (just outside Woburn), being introduced to several other esteemed members of the Milton Keynes culinary bourgeoise and preparing to face the taste test of my life. Before I introduce the competitors to you, I have to admit full disclosure here and now; I was both pleased and a little disappointed at the same time when presented with the 2015 entrants for this category. The products lined up before us collectively represented days, weeks and months of work for their producers and for that, they should all be applauded, congratulated and subject to hearty thanks. In fact, if you meet one in the pub in the near future, buy them a drink - they deserve it. However, I am convinced that they represent only a tiny proportion of the burgeoning numbers of local producers that are right here under our noses; growing, baking or simmering products that they, and their loyal customers are quite rightly proud of. We needed those here! Milton Keynes sits smack bang between Buckingham, Northampton and Bedford and we should be beating off the micro and expanding producers concentrating on sustainable products with a naturally wind felled, organic stick. Anyway, enough ranting and on to the products who had the courage to step up and be measured!




For the drinky side of things we had Old Bloomer from The Concrete Cow brewery, Original Coffee from the Cold Brew Cafe, Spirit of Silverstone Whisky from the Silverstone Brewery and some apple brandy from Virtual Orchard.

Then, because drinking whisky, apple brandy and a pint of bitter at 8:30am may not be the best idea in the world, we also had a fresh croissant from the Woodstock baker, some hot chocolate (as well as extra chocolate slabs) from the Cacao Pod, ketchup from Sinclair Condiments and lastly some Golden Raspberry Jam from Jam Moo Kow.

A huge range of different and vastly interesting flavours, on that we can all agree. Deliberations by the judging panel were fast, furious and thankfully with only a passing reference to Vin Diesel. Final decisions were eventually reached and the results will be announced at the awards ceremony on the 10th May (buy your tickets here).



The aftermath of the morning showed the consequence of ever more involved tasting, discussion, re-tasting and subsequent... tasting.

One quick shout out must be given to Paris House, our host for the morning. Not only did they make space available for us to conduct our serious judging, they also joined us in doling out justice in ice-cream scoop sized proportions and then suffered the final indignity of allowing us back-stage to watch the kitchen prepare for the lunchtime service and ask ridiculous questions such as: 'what's that gooey stuff? Why is that purple?* How long does it take to make the three million sauces, veloutes, gels and/or jellies required for your tasting menu?' Photo's were taken and bacon rolls were consumed but that is for another post.

Just to end, I now confirm that I am sworn to secrecy and would never divulge the results no matter how seduced I am by the devious temptations that may be given/forced upon me. Absolutely not. No way. For sure mister, you can do one. But just before you go, what was it you were (not) going to give me??

Ooh, I'm looking forward to the the 10th of May - it's going to be a good one!



*Seriously, remind me to talk about the purple potato dust next time. A. Maze. Ing.

Wednesday 22 April 2015

Venice - Italy

Venice was... interesting. I'll be honest with you, Mrs P inserted Venice into this holiday as a baby might insert a favourite finger into their nose; it's something that she has always wanted to do and found the chance while no-one was looking. I was skeptical at first but as usual, I succumbed to her charms and so we found ourselves handing over a disproportionate amount of cash to park the car for 48 hours (70 quid) then being touted for a water taxi (a further 60 quid) before actually jumping onto the water bus (7 quid).

You may have noticed at this point that Venice was starting to look expensive, and expensive it turned out to be; so insider knowledge was required. Unfortunately, unlike in Verona, our house host was not so useful either at telling us where to eat or explaining why the walls were covered in what I can only describe as tantalising pictures of ladies in various states of undress. Thankfully, The Child and The Child's Sister were too tired to pay any attention, whereas I on the other hand... <ahem>, well enough about me.




You will be glad to know then that the food crisis was averted when the Family P got talking to a very nice lady from Kent and her son on the public Gondola (1 quid each as opposed to 80 quid for a 'private' session*). She pointed out that while Venice has osteria's everywhere, these small cafes/bistros are 99% miss and 1% hit. The tourist trade is so integrated into the city that you can seemingly open a kitchen, put a couple of chairs out on the street and you'll have people sitting down ordering drinks before you've gone back inside. 

She pointed us towards a small osteria hidden in a courtyard off a back street, round the side of a church accessed by a small arch. She assured us that in the 25 years of visiting Venice, Osteria del Milion was thankfully one of the 1% and with starters of ham as well as a prawn salad we can't say we disagreed. We were hungry so photos weren't the first thing on our mind but once that first h-angry hurdle was reached, we managed to slow down.





Homemade gnocchi with tomato sauce was light and as fluffy as a cloud on a spring day  and spaghetti with mussels was also spot on with bold, bright flavours. But it was the artichoke tagolini in a simple butter and pepper sauce that really hit the spot. The creamy pasta and buttery sauce was beautifully married with the in-season soft artichoke heart.






This lunch of champions was followed by another gelato.  We found this nondescript place by getting hopelessly lost through the maze of Venice and I would love to be able to tell you where it was, but quite honestly I have no idea. Perhaps the power of the inter webs can converge in the comments below and inform us all.  What I can tell you though is that it served epic, handmade, homemade gelato. 




It was in Venice that we also discovered chocolate Fonzies. Chocolate coated crisps; as minging as that might sound, I can confirm that actually these were great. So great, in fact, that we immediately went out and bought another packet. Sad I know.  But, anything that kept the kids energised and enthused was 'a good thing'.





So there we have it.  We've got a couple of winners, as well as one where we (yes, even I, with all my research) fell foul of the disappointing 'Venetian' foodie trap. It fell so far below the 99% mentioned above we couldn't even be bothered to take any photos before we left with disappointment in our hearts (I'm looking at you Hotel Salute Venezia) and a wallet almost £100 lighter. Bad, bad times!

Lastly, I must claim full disclosure and say that Venice has some unfinished business for Mrs P and I. The last place to be added to the itinerary seems to be the first place we want to return to, but perhaps without the children. Believe me when I say that you have not known stress until you have visited a Venetian mask shop (where the average price never drops below 300 Euro) with The Child's Sister. 



At least she was happy and if I didn't know the Italian for 'she breaks it, you buy it' before, I do now. 

And now time for some gratuitous photo's of The Child in an almost deserted San Marco's Square before the Cruise liners vomit their Saga membershiped guts over it's beautiful streets and, for my money, a quintessential example of the Venice view, but from a completely anonymous and tourist free canal - fabulous.






*Well, I say private but considering that the canals are only 10 feet apart, we thankfully still got to share each beautiful moment with every passing American honeymooner who spanked 80 quid on impressing their just-wife.

Monday 20 April 2015

Verona - Italy

Holidays are great and glorious things. They are glimpses of joy during years of otherwise relentless drudgery and soul-dissolving daily pain. Needless to say Mrs P and I were looking forward to this, and so with sunshine in our hearts, we skipped like care-free gazelles onto our British Airways chariot of pleasure. It was a tour* of northern Italy, starting in Verona, leading off to Venice then back to Lake Garda. But first, Verona:

We stayed using Airbnb for the first time and were really impressed. It is a great way to explore new places through the eyes of the residents. During our few days in Verona we stayed in an apartment on Via della Valverde which was perfectly situated away from the touristy centre filled with school trips and Americans all looking to get as much Shakespeare in their life as possible. However, quite apart from the commercial generated sales of 'Romeo and Juliet cake' and the general 20% mark-up on anything within a 1 mile radius of the central Arena (which is indescribably awesome by the way), we managed to hit up a couple of really amazing plates.

Firstly, sourced through a tip from the lovely lady who hosted us in the apartment, Bella Napoli was excellent in almost every respect. An immense slab of pizza cooked to crispy based perfection with suitably simple topping options: red, white or fish. When you order this big fella (1 metre in length) you get one third red (tomato and basil), one third white (mozzarella with a touch of bacon) and one third fish (tomato sauce with anchovy).




This along with a starter of sliced salami and caprese (tomato and mozzella with oil and seedy sprinkles) was loads for two adults and two kids. The mixed salami was salty, meaty and rich with a deep smoky taste of Italy, the tomato was fresh and zingy then muted by the milky cream of the cheese. This meal stood out with it's simplicity and was a perfect start to our time in Verona.






The next eatable of note was the Gelato shop on the corner. Mrs P and I had been using 'Gelato' as a code for treats for The Child but it wasn't more than 24 hours into our trip when the penny dropped and we had to take cover from a bombardment that NATO would be proud of. We decided to start as we meant to go on and cracked early - the place was a mecca for gelato aficionados, such as The Child. Not only did they have a wall of flavour choices all in Italian (so she had to literally try every. Single. One.), but also a tap that dispensed chocolate sauce. Chocolate sauce, out of a tap. They also do crepes and other deserts which is entirely pointless, because we only ever saw people ordering gelato, and they did this a lot - an ice cream shop open until 1am every Saturday night? Now you understand the popularity of this place.  Or perhaps further proof, if it was required, was the enormous and permanent queue out of the door!  





Favourite flavours as tested by the family P included (but were not limited to): cookie, white mint (as opposed to the luminous snot green version we get over here), salted caramel, milk chocolate, biscotti, lemon sorbet and 1947 cream. The 1947 flavour was particularly interesting as it tasted almost lemony with a creamy and sweet condensed milk base. Oh, and they also make ice-cream cakes, and I know what you're thinking, but this isn't some soggy boxed, Mums gone to Iceland, 3 for a fiver, money saving special offer. Oh no, this is the real deal.



There was also a little shop opposite the apartment, it sold a little bit of cheese, a little bit of salami and a whole lot of wine. And while this was technically sold by the bottle, I was not quite expecting the lady to whip out an empty 1 litre sparkling water bottle and fill it up from the massive vats on one side of the wall. 




However, the truth be told, at 1.80 euros it tasted good... after I had drunk half of it.



Finally, while wandering through the city centre, I spotted a restaurant plying it's patter with the passing trade and once I finished sniggering to myself, I couldn't help feeling that the joke was somewhat lost on the locals.  




And also I couldn't resist these:




Cheesy nik-naks with a hint of Happy Days? Eeeeehhhy.


www.airbnb.com
www.bellanapoliverona.it
www.gelateriaromana.com
@GelateriaRomana



I did not (unfortunately) receive any payment or freebies from any companies mentioned above.



* A tour in as much as we went to three different places, but 'tour' sounds much more impressive when you describe it to other people.