This post is dedicated to my friend Renu, who passed away in February 2011. She taught me how to make the most delicious coriander chutney two years ago and my life has never been the same.
Gluten-free
I have many habits – good and bad. Some I’ve stemmed with age, like tearing recipes out of magazines. I don’t do that anymore. Well, I shouldn’t do that anymore and I don’t except when I come across a stack of mags with recipes I know the ‘owner’ would never cook. Take my sister, K for instance – she loves to cook and eat but in moderation, especially the cooking part. Now when I visited her in her new flat in Glasgow a few weeks ago, we spent the weekend talking food, I made a couple of lemon cakes for her and pored through loads of ‘Good Food’ mags that had been given to her by the previous occupant of the apartment.
Don’t be deceived by the food porn you see in my regular KB posts: that’s not how I regularly serve my ‘food for eat’. Call me what you like (food pimp even) but I love everything about food – the components, the assembly and the presentation. I enjoy experimenting with colour palettes and taste palates, textures and light. I love to highlight the net skins of cantaloupes and the bum cheeks of peaches, almost as much as I enjoy sushi and (cooking with) wine. I love highlighting the beauty of a dish but that’s not always real – the pretty food you see on this blog represents a tiny portion of my food reality – please don’t take it as the entire gospel. Many a time, I bite into a juicy peach and barely have time to notice the soft downy skin, or the patches of colour. Sometimes I ignore the pleasure of eye candy and focus on the ‘taste’, enjoying the combination of flavour makers that results in a gorgeous plate.
One thing I’ve always wondered about Nigerian food is ‘Does it sit pretty’? My memories of food at home don’t involve elaborate/delicately styled food. Yes, plates are garnished – slices of tomatoes, onions and parsley greenery are common, as are molds of rice and sauce nested in bowls. Read more…
But then I’m no Newton It is my good friend, L I have to thank for this Albeit it in a roundabout way See, once upon a time three years ago I needed flaked almonds and she offered to get me some And she did – she got me a whole kilo Because the store was out of the smaller packs And thus began my almond experimenting
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