Food and Drink Archive

There are times when I wonder if it is more hassle than it is worth trying to impose some kind of order to this blog (drunken, late night posts accepted). Such a time came last Saturday night, as, sat in Pinche Pinche in Chapel Allerton, Leeds – I sank my teeth in to the softest, most tender, lamb burrito I had ever eaten. With every glorious bite of lamb, cheese and salsa, my thoughts turned, not to plate but to this place – to how I was going to have to write, not just a plethora of complimentary phrases, but something slightly more critical. For across the table sat Lauren; and her near untouched plate. Food reviews, at least restaurant reviews have been given over

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  Intro: This is not a food blog. Until a week ago I wasn’t quite sure what this blog was about; that was until I decided to focus on all things family. Therefore, a review of a restaurant under the subject heading “Kid’s Meal” is not just about the quality of food enjoyed by the parents, but the overall experience of a visit for the family – especially our children. Any actual comment on food will be done from a general, rather than specific food blogging perspective. We booked our table at Salvo’s on Friday lunchtime for that evening’s dinner session. We tend to book for 5.30pm so that we can miss the post-work rush – whilst also avoiding any minor tired/hunger related tantrums likely

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I have a dream. It really is a simple dream. One where I walk in to a restaurant in Italy; where the staff great me as a returning friend – one of the family, even. I opened a window on to that dream tonight. Where a friend, mio amico, took us to a restaurant in England. Where the staff treated him like a prodigal son. Where cheeks were kisses, hands pointed to waist, to chest – above head – signifying how much he has grown. We were dined, wined – I got to drink Amaro Montenegro. This was my dream; this was his life. Dining with friends – with family – where the people who serve you, care about you. This is what food is

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How to eat caviar

By Chris

April 8, 2016

source markys.com

here are very few people who have never heard of caviar. It’s an extremely popular delicacy not just in the United States, but all around the world. Caviar’s reputation begs the question — why do people like it so much? What is so special about it? Caviar is a magnificent natural product that amazes people with its unique and delicate taste. It is really a one-of-a-kind food that leaves you with a feeling that no other food can leave you with. Here’s some information on how to eat caviar properly — general and essential tips on how to get the most out of this product’s taste, how to distinguish between types, and how to appreciate its flavor.

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Buy better, buy less. That appears to be the current commercial mantra. Enjoy less of what you like, as long as you are prepared to pay more than you normally would – is another way of approaching it. After the meat fiasco of the supermarkets earlier in the year, I noticed a number of emails and tweets from local farms positioning themselves as the reliable alternative. They realise they can’t compete on price, so pitch it as quality over quantity. You can trust us; you just can’t necessarily afford us – so buy less. It is, after all, what environmentalists have been lobbying us to do for some time now. Have non-meat meals every now and again. You never know you might enjoy it –

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How many people like coffee art? If you don’t know what I am talking about, it’s when a barista takes their time to pour an image in to the top of your milky coffee – a fan, a heart, a leaf etc. How many of you think the experience adds to the, well, experience of drinking the coffee? Does a good barista, who can perform wonders with their wrists, actually make the coffee taste better? Or do you sometimes wish they would just hurry up and pour so you can get out of there? What difference does it make if they’re putting a lid on it? Coffee art is one of those things that if you go to a good coffee bar, you now expect

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Think of a number. Not any number – a specific number. The exact number you will cook for, eat with, tonight. What about tomorrow night? Will the number remain the same? What if it was a weekend? When we, it seems, are expected to entertain. Does that number change? Does it fluctuate depending on the season? Or does it stay, very much the same? Three – that’s my number. It’s not magic, just the size of my immediate family; my household. Sure the dog gets the scraps, but you don’t start out a meal with scraps in mind – unless you’re in a northern chip shop. It was three on Sunday as well. It rarely changes. So why does nearly ever cookbook I own, every

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It’s amazing what excuses people use to project their wants on to others. Walking through the streets of Rome – looking for somewhere to eat during the day, Mum would always offer a preference to sit down; because it would be easier for Lauren. As I perched myself on a stone bench today, in Leeds; fighting with Lauren over the scraps of fish left on the tray – I wondered what I might have missed out on in Rome, by limiting where, and how we eat. Sat in shabby tourist traps, with broken toilet seats and extortionately priced soft drinks, I would see countless smartly-dressed office types – pounding the streets with something that could be eaten, single-handed. Pizza slices, focaccia; even a man and

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I am the wrong side of 15½ stone. Some of you reading this might think that a six foot tall, 36 year old man might indeed be the wrong side of 13 stone. You are right. But 15½ stone feels like a lifetime away from my last knee operation – where I spent six months alternating between crutches and walking stick – living off anything that could be delivered, dead in a box. My weight ballooned. My belly ballooned. It took a wedding, a child and a fragile state of mind for it to come down. But now it is slowly rising again. Why? Because I’m bored – I eat when I’m bored. It’s slightly better than smoking or drinking or that thing that could

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What does the term ‘good customer services’ imply to you? How do you define good in a relationship – supplier to customer – where you assume the default position should always be good. I pose the question, as this week a giant in the coffee shop world decided to give away a free coffee, as long as you told them your name. It was an easy – customer driven marketing campaign – timelines awash with coffee drinkers alerting you to the fact that something would be free. It naturally started a rush of tweets that we should all be supporting our local, independent coffee shops as, well, the coffee is better – and most of them already know our names. But is that true? And

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Planning; it’s what I do. Project planning, resource planning, location planning – I am the man with the plan. So why then, does the simple task of trying to plan a week’s worth of food, fill me with such dread? Why do I approach the task as though my heart, my soul; my very existence will be sucked clean out of me if I do? I’ve tried it on a number of occasions. I’ve used a variety of excuses to reattempt that most loathsome of exercises – we’ll save money if we buy in bulk; we’ll be more organised for Lauren if we don’t have to stop off at the shops on the way home. Every time I plot out a week. Every time we

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