A culinary adventure in memory of London’s most notorious slum.
March 29 and 30

Take your tastebuds on a gastrogeographical journey to explore one of the most fascinating corners of Shoreditch.  Part art, part archaeology, part gastronomic feast, on the ruins of the most infamous of all of London’s slums.
Broken Biscuits? evokes the ghosts of the children who populated these dark streets, living cheek by jowl with the donkeys, cows, geese and rabbits kept for sustenance or trade.
The past will be brought to life by food. Your map is a menu. Six courses guide you through time and place in the Old Nichol.

Begin your tour by collecting your map and bag of broken savoury biscuits from the Owl and Pussycat on Redchurch Street.
Shops discounted much of their bakery produce for hungry locals, and large bags of broken biscuits could be bought for a halfpenny.
In the windows of Leila’s, an elaborate and fantastical display of cakes and biscuits.  Dare you ask for one?
“Regardless of the shopkeepers’ real line of business, many shops had sweet foodstuffs – confectionary, small open tarts, sugar butties, a suet and plum pudding called Baby’s Head – on display in the windows to tempt children in… in some instances [with] the sinister purpose of luring [them] in with a view to encouraging them to pilfer for the shopkeeper, who would fence the stolen goods.” (The Blackest Streets, Sarah Wise)
Zubrówka Vodka in the Arnold Circus bandstand, served with blinis, smoked salmon and sour cream.
The mound at Arnold Circus was built on the demolition rubble of the Old Nichol. Let’s raise a glass to the slum that inspired the October Revolution!
We reach a secret doorway and enter. A feast awaits us.
Hare pâté and pigeon terrine studded with juniper berries and served with St. John’s Rye Bread and green parsley liquor, served with a frosted glass of Jensen’s Bermondsey gin.
Pigeons, songbirds, white mice, parrots and rabbits were kept in the cellars and sold in the bird and animal market at Club Row.
Shot of watercress soup.
The area was originally built on watercress fields.
Venison stew marinated for 7 days, accompanied by buttered Savoy cabbage, carrots and potatoes.
Every 7 days the Duke of Bedford would send two deer to the Old Nichol mission to be made into venison stew for free children’s dinners.
Spotted Dick ice cream with Oloroso soaked sultanas, served with a glass of Oloroso sherry.
The menu is paired with spirits and wines matched by Stefan Batfield at The City Beverage Company.
Meat supplied by Theobald’s.

The tales of the Broken Biscuits? will be told for 2 nights only.
6 courses paired with wine and spirits, recommended donation £45. Seats are limited. Contact caroline.hobkinson@hotmail.co.uk to make a reservation. Proceeds from Broken Biscuits? will be donated to Art Against Knives. www.artagainstknives.com

See you there!

What is it with Valentine’s and hearts?  Have there been any studies done to prove that love is somehow connected to the heart?

The heart is such a prosaic organ if there ever was one. It pumps blood in and out, day in day out.  And if it gets a bit rusty- you get a bypass. If I feel love I feel it in the stomach. In the form of either gentle flutters of butterflies or a full on roller coster that makes your palms sweat like onions on pan. A friend informs me she feels it in the solar plexus. Why not depictions of butterflies, roller coasters and eh..plexi?

What the traditional heart shape actually depicts is another question. It certainly doesn’t look like a human heart. Some people claim that it actually depicts the heart of a cow. Others say it depict parts of the female body (human), such as buttocks or a ”frontbum”. It may also resemble the inverted image of a load of bullocks.

Heart shaped Meringues

• 3 eggwhite
• a pinch of salt
• 100 g caster sugar

Fluff the eggs in a mixer. (Make sure there is no water involved). Add the salt. Gently fold in the sugar. They are ready when you can turn the bowl upside down – without being covered in goo. Shape them into hearts on parchment paper. Bake for 2-3 hours. Carefully remove from the tray without breaking them. Join two similar hearts together with ice-cream inside. I ♥ a good match.

Are we helping or hindering? Why do we give to charity? Because we are good and giving makes us feel good.

Just as the traumatised earthquake victims in Haiti recovered from John Travolta and his Scientologist night fever— ready to help out with billions of tiny, evil aliens. In steps Lindsay, who is going to donate profits from her leggings. Leggings For Haitian Relief.
Ten Americans have just been jailed for trying to illegally take 33 children out of the country—most of whom had parents. Their actions are an example of a very special kind of charity. “God is the one who called us to come here.” was the motivation behind their good deed of child trafficking…
Simon Cowell hasty remake of “Everybody hurts”  includes vocals by Leona Lewis, Mariah Carey, Jon Bon Jovi, Robbie Williams, James Morrison, Susan Boyle, and Westlife. It’s obviously not aimed at Haitian ears. To tell the bereaved, injured and homeless to “hang on” and “sing along” when “everything is wrong.” is too much too take or give, even for Simon.
But hey – a good cause seem to excuse a lot these days.
Paul I Corinthinans: “Charity is patient, charity is kind; It does not envy, it does not boast, is not puffed up.” We are human, and to be human is to congratulate ourselves on our righteousness. And I have to say my fritters are delicious.

Haitian Sweet Corn Fritters

• fresh cob kernels
• 150g flour
• 3 eggs
• salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 25ml milk

Mix the flour, corn, eggs and milk together in a bowl and season.
 Gently fold in the corn. Heat a little oil in a frying pan. Pour in tablespoon measures of the mixture to form individual round fritters. Fry for 1-2 minutes on each side. Drain on a paper towel. Serve and do your bit to help Haiti.

http://www.unicef.org.uk/give/index.asp?page=33&google=haiti_jan10&gclid=COe1j5eW3J8CFdkB4wodAWb5Hg

British Airways has won a High Court injunction blocking the 12 day cabin crew strike that would have brought Christmas to a standstill. Leaving one million travellers stuck without their share of turkey/carp or whatever it is that tickles their yuletide taste buds. BA tried to ruin Christmas.

The biggest threat to that homely tradition not from the recession, the climate change meltdown or Al-Qaeda but from the Doors to Manuals?
Why do they hate Christmas so much?
Similar to the popular song the planned strike seemed incredibly confusing -both were defended as being “symbolic”.
Some have suggested that it is a song of Christian instruction with hidden references to the basic teachings of the Christian Faith.
The “true love” mentioned in the song might not  be an earthly suitor, but God Himself. And God is he shelling out: A partridge and a whole tree to go with it, dancing ladies, drum kits, chicken, gold rings, …
But where was the Christian Faith of the BA staff? Their plan to go on strike over 12 days over Christmas insanely selfish. The glee with which it was announced that almost a million people might miss out on seeing their families over Christmas heinous. BA’s cabin crew are the best-paid in Britain.
And maybe both strike and song are just that- utter nonsense.

On the 12 days of Christmas,
my true love fed me,

A partridge in a pear tree.
PARTRIDGE TERRINE SERVED WITH POACHED PEARS

Two turtle doves,
POT ROAST PIGEON

Three French hens,
LEEK TORTILLA

Four calling birds,
FRESHLY BAKED NIGHTINGALE ROLLS

Five golden rings,
CRISPY ONION RINGS

Six geese a-laying,
POTATOES ROASTED IN GOOSE FAT

Seven swans a-swimming,
FRESHLY BAKED SWAN ROLLS

Eight maids a-milking,
A SELECTION OF MILKY CHEESES

Nine ladies dancing,
ROASTED CARROTS IN A SWEET POTATO MASH

Ten lords a-leaping,
ŻUBROWKA VODKA INFUSED WITH TAPIOCA PEARLS

Eleven pipers piping,
ROAST PARSNIPS

And Twelve drummers drumming!
MINI PAVLOVAS WITH POMEGRANATE

Twenty years ago, the Berlin Wall came down.

German unification was understood by many as East Germany being taken over by West Germany. West Germany therefore “winning“. Proving that the West German way of life was somehow better…

But more than 40 percent of West Germans have never travelled to the former East. At the same time, Ostalgie – odd nostalgia for the old East Germany – manifested through a yearning for old gherkin jars and generally off tasting culinary goods spread among the former citizens of the most spied-on state in history.

Cut off by the wall two Germanies existed side by side, each developing their own cuisine in parallel worlds.

Gherkin soup with sour cream and dill for the Eastern Sektor.

Lobster soup with Crème fraîche and dill for the West.

One of the poor guys who made it into the soup.

The secret food parcels, rape seed oil for the East,

Butter for the West with homemade poppyseed & carewayseed bread.

Spicy Solyianka for the comrades…

was served with a generous shot of Żubrówka.

Maultaschen on a bed of Sauerkraut in the West.

Sauerbraten, marinated pot roast competed…

against Koenigsberger Kloepse with anchovy and caper sauce.

The West was supported with a little light palette cleanser, cucumber smothered in yoghurt and sumac, a greeting from Turkey.

The East showed off its exotic friends with a vietnamese salad: Green papaya, carrots soybean sprouts sprinkled with roasted sesame and peanuts. I managed to get original Palace of the Republic plates to serve this dish on.

Champagne was served for the grand final standoff:

Homemade Stollen Ice cream vs. the creme de la creme of German culinary heights: Schwarzwaelderkirschtorte made with Fabbri Amarena cherries. After breaking through Rachel’s amazing caramelised barbed wire, each side reached the culinary highlight of the other.

And the wall came tumbling down. We all have been looking for freedom.

David at the wall.

http://themoment.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/05/teutonic-plates-berlins-gastro-get-togethers

http://www.zeit.de/lebensart/essen-trinken/2009-11/ost-west-kochen-2

The leader of the British National Party has appeared as a panellist on Question Time on BBC1. This is surely only meant to be viewingfigurebustingtellyentertainment. But one should be more careful.

The far right is on the march again.

In Austria’s recent general election, nearly 30 per cent of voters backed extremist right-wing parties. Facism in the birthplace of Hitler is as de rigueur as bold shoulderpads in Shoreditch.

Austria, you wonderful tumour of a place. Tucked in snuggly between Germany and Italy; yet exotic. Go in winter and you encounter fur clad dachshund-stroking pensioners who spend their time ranting about the Turks, the Bulgarians, the Polacks, the Pakis, the Jappos, the Jambo Jambos, ….

Austria gave us Schnitzel, Hitler and Mozart.

The British gave us Curry.

The U.K. is not a country that provides a platform for fascists and holocaust deniers. Jade Goody was until now as primetime racist as it got.

What were they thinking to seriously question someone who should not be given the time of day? Especially not on Question time?

Some people don’t deserve the freedom of speech. Nick Griffin is  an Austrian at heart and I bet he enjoys a good Schnitzel.

Schnitzel with Potato Salad

• 2 organic chicken breasts
• 2 eggs, beaten
• flour
• breadcrumbs
• salt & pepper
• lemon

for the potato salad:

Cook new potatoes and dress with vinegar, mustard and dill.

Beat the chicken as hard as you can with a mallet until thin.

Roll chicken in flour.

Dip chicken in egg and then roll in breadcrumbs.

Fry in hot oil until brown.

Salt and pepper chicken and serve with the potato salad and a slice of lemon.

Obama got the Nobel Peace Price! What next? Americas Next Top model? Canonise him? Not that he won’t deserve it. But the speed did surprise even him. His expression was that of somebody expecting to be busted by Candid Camera. Just after sending additional troops to Afghanistan.
But he stands for “change in the international climate.”
“Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world’s attention and given its people hope for a better future.” . For Christ’s sake, Jesus didn’t get one. Neither did Bono or Saint Bob. (Geldof).

He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize simply for not being George Bush.
No one has time any more for legends to evolve. ‘Let’s give it to him now. He will deserve it anyway.’ This prize has the stale aftertaste of a hastily eaten fast-food burger. Too soon, too much, too easy.

I am wary of worshiping leaders. Never a good idea. But let’s hope he gets the chance to earn it retrospectively. Let him get on with things.

Black Eyed Peas with creamed Chestnut Mushrooms and Goats Curd

After having amazing lentils with creamed girolles and goats curd at the holy grail (St. John’s) I’m in love with the goat and mushrooms combo. I trailed up and down Broadway market to get some Chanterelle/Girolles/Pfifferlingi but the East End of London isn’t gentile enough yet for that kind of fungus. So I got some chestnut mushrooms instead.

• 200g Black Eye Peas
• Chestnut Mushrooms
• Goats curd
• chopped Parsley
• Toasted Rye or Sourdough bread

Clean the mushrooms with a brush, slice them thinly and fry in butter. Add the goats curd. Serve over a bed of Black Eye Peas. I never cooked with them before but they have a nice soft buttery texture. Season with salt and pepper and sprinkle with the chopped Parsley and give peace a chance.

The 20th anniversary of the fall of the wall is approaching fast, Germany’s own 9.11. I’m going to Berlin tomorrow to see how I will manage a pop up restaurant for 3 days in November. In our apartment. (!) My contribution to the festivities. A warming menu for the end of the Cold war.

That’s what I have in mind:

A culinary event with 2 mouthwatering menus will divide your tastebuds.
Cut off by the wall for almost 30 years, two Berlins existed side by side, each developing their own cuisine in parallel worlds.
You will be served either the East or the West menu.
Overcome your food envy by bartering for the best goodies. Gastro politics were never as tantalizing.
This feast will be held for 3 nights only in a beautiful private Berlin apartment, 50 meters from the former wall, transformed into an Underground Restaurant especially for this occasion.
SATURDAY 07.11.09 @ 8pm
SUNDAY 08.11.09 @ 8pm
MONDAY 09.11.09 @ 8pm

Book soon as places are limited. Email caroline.hobkinson@hotmail.co.uk ( moi) to reserve, with your preferred night.

5 course dinner paired with wine and vodka at 30 Euros p.p. Address details will be sent out once your reservation has been confirmed.
The story of a divided city told through Solyianka, Stollen and Sauerbraten.
Hosted by Caroline Hobkinson, assisted by the wonderful Rachel Khoo. www.rachelkhoo.com

…let the testing begin.

I am in the Dordogne, the foie gras crazed area of France that worships the goose and the duck like some sort of Somerset pagan cult. I feel stuffed like a liver stuck in a ducks ass.
We had foie gras stuffed, rolled, fingered around  sturgeon, prunes, you name it. Other Périgord gastro wetdreams feature wine, walnut oil and truffles. If you can possibly eat any more, I dare you to knock yourself out with cheeses or walnut tart and tarte tatin.
Just when I thought things can’t get worse my mother in law Jan came out with a very odd book. Floyd on France. Being of Germanic origin I missed his series first time round and was horrified by this grinning drunkard in a bow tie. I wasn’t having any of him around my French foodie  haven. I expected crappy canapés and psychotic cocks drowned in white wine. I was wrong.

Two weeks  and 28 meals of cross-referencing our  posh glossy Ripailles cookbook by Stephane Reynaud (height 11cm/ weight 4,5 kg) on Traditional French Cuisine to the weathered Floyd on France (height 0,5cm/weight 300g)  – I warm to this guy.

He threatens me not to deviate from the original Beef Bourginion recipe. He only cooks in ‘cold’, ‘warm’ or ‘hot’ ovens. No faffing with temperature. And after having viewed his anarcho-cooking show on Youtube, I can assure you he was never sober. Julia Child’s key to French cooking was butter, his a vat of Armaniac. His show a middle class gastro gonzo version of  Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

“The church clock chimes seven. I sip the strong coffee and Leo splashes a dash of rum into the cup. I then visit my friend Eva and have tapenade for breakfast, good with the scented red wine that she says is the best for miles. We chat sipping pastis.
I go for a stroll and enter a bar, the proprietor hands me a diabolically strong pastis before wiping the table and crashes down a foaming demi of iced beer.” (Floyd on France 1987, BBC Books)

It’s Monday morning and I am warming to his irreverent style – Getting sloshed while trying to cook makes things much ‘jollier’ – Then  I hear he died.

“fuck it…. RIP …
You better then all those sweet faced fuckers on TV these days” obituary on Youtube by ” magic mushroom 22″

Blackpudding with Apples, Périgord walnuts and Argent prunes

(Boudin noir aux pommes). We had many heavy stews, oeufs, beefs and livers of many a creature.
But tonight we are cooking a simple peasant dish. Retro-cuisine as Floyd called it in 87.
In honour of Floyd and keeping with the theme, Sam adds a Floyd size splash of Sauternes. We try a crisp white Sancerre and open 2 bottles of red, a 2003 Pecharment and a 2005 St. Emilion just to add to the Floyd Ian spirit.

“Fry the boudin in oil until cooked through. Add the apples to the pan and oss until golden brown and tender. Serve the boudin on a bed of apples.” We add prunes soaked in Sauternes and walnuts foraged from the nearby farm.

• Boudin noir (Blood sausage)
• 2 apples, cored and roughly chopped
• 5 prunes, soaked for 2 hours
• 6 walnuts
• shallots

“Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish—a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow—to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested . . . Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.” (Gonzo Papers, Vol. 2: Generation of Swine: Tales of Shame and Degradation in the ’80s, 1988 Hunter S. Thompson)

Athens is burning. The ancient ruins of Marathon are under threat, but the Greek Government has done nothing to improve fire protection since the blazes of August 2007 that killed 70 people and devastated vast forests.

Athens continued to be an emergency zone today, as the Greek Government put into effect Operation Xenocrates, its disaster relief plan.

The cradle of European civilisation should know how to deal with something as ancient as fire. After all they “invented” it.*
They gave us democracy, an alphabet, drama, mathematics and philosophy – you’d think they’re able to handle a fire extinguisher.

*Prometheus, a Titan, stole the sacred fire from Zeus and the Gods and gave it to us mortals.
Zeus then punished him by having him bound to a rock while a great eagle ate his liver every day only to have it grow back to be eaten again the next day. (Endless punishment)
They should have learned their lesson by now…

Lamb Souvlaki with Tzatziki

2 lemons

leg or shoulder of lamb, cubed

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

salt and pepper

1 green pepper

1 onion

for the tzatziki

• Yoghurt
• Half a cucumber
• Salt and Pepper

Marinate the lamb with garlic, lemon zest, olive oil . Mix well and season. Cover with cling film and leave if possible overnight in the fridge.
Light a fire.
Thread the pieces of lamb on to skewers, alternate chunks of lemon, onions and green pepper. Brush with some of the lemon and oil marinade and throw into the flames.
Grate the cucumber, add a few tablespoons of yoghurt and season with salt and freshly ground pepper. I  leave the raw garlic out as it burns like fire.