Wedding Cake

It's that time of year when the 'Secret Society of Wedding Cake Makers' start to line their cake tins and mould their sugar paste. The dense balls of white clammy paste are lovingly kneaded and coloured; pulled, rolled and folded into delicate blossoms and blousy divas. These creators of edible gardens silently and deftly conjure any flower or leaf the fretful bride demands.

Gone is the plainly elegant three tiered, iced fruit cake decorated with a tiny plastic wedding couple, fresh flowers and silver horseshoes. The cake is no longer an ancient symbol of fertility and prosperity to be shared with the guests- in it's place is Cakenstein. Cakes of every shape, size, height and colour. Cakes that cost as much as a car and leave the happy couple in debt for the first years of marriage. Cakes featured on daytime TV, wedding magazines and at those huge wedding fairs. The poor bride, it's just another excruciatingly difficult decision in her long list of trinkets, trimmings and other tat that she is being led to believe she needs to make her day 'special'. How about keeping it cheap and simple to avoid debt and keep the marriage special?

Jelly and Ice Cream

I found this photo of my mother when she was a child in the 1950's. The subject itself is pretty self-explanatory, a children's tea party. The children are all wearing their party best; the girls in pretty dresses with bows in their hair and the boys in shirts and cowboy hats. You can almost hear their excitement, maybe it's the abundance of cake and squash or the appearance of a camera? I would imagine that most of these children had sleepless nights prior to the party, it's arrival as eagerly anticipated as Christmas. It's a happy afternoon, one of many in the fresh-air-filled, kite-flying, tree-climbing, rope-jumping, camp-building, model-painting, hop-scotching, book-reading and truly free-spirited afternoons in the lives of these children. Small gifts made huge smiles and simple toys were treasured.

But what if you drew together a similar group of children today, laid tables with white table cloths and fed them simple sandwiches, fairy cakes, jelly, ice cream and squash? Would their excitement and marvel be equal? Would their eyes light up for a photo to be taken? Sadly I don't think so. There would probably be widespread vocal disappointment at the lack of cold chicken nuggets, flaccid pizza, crisps, and teeth-achingly fizzy drinks. The children wouldn't be dressed in simple summer clothes, but in uber trendy designer clothes the cost of which would have paid for the 1950's party! They would get bored with Blind Man's Bluff or Pass-the-Parcel and the lack of a party bag stuffed with goodies causing raised eyebrows from competitive parents?

What a shame that the concept of childhood is now just a marketing tool for holiday brochures, Organic Cereals and Fabric Conditioners!

Tapas Bars

When is a Tapas Bar not a Tapas Bar? When it's in England. How has every 'Tapas Bar' in this country missed the point of Tapas? They've done to Tapas what Centre Parcs has done to the Great Outdoors; taken something that should be enjoyed for it's very simplicity; for the free licence it gives to tuck in, get messy and have fun and has spent millions cleaning, sterilising and re-packaging it. It's just another safe and shiny ride in the slowly evolving theme park of modern life - another Accessory Experience to add to the generic calender of 'Great Family Days Out'.

Food is such a major commodity in bars and pubs now that it can't be simple, simple is their secret weapon, their 'buzz word', it's what Gastro Pubs thrive on, less is more. Everyone wants to see simple meals on the chalk boards; Pies, Liver & Bacon, Ploughman's Lunches... but there is the small print; the Pies are made with the most expensive 'Normandy Butter and Flour milled by Fairies and baked in an original 18th Century Baker's Oven', the Liver is from farmed Unicorn and the ploughman's lunch has 'Handcrafted' bread. Why can't we have a Tapas Bar that sells snacks; just small morsels of food, of bread, sliced sausage, potato croquettes, olives, ham, meatballs, anchovies? Just small dishes of food, plain and cheap but very tasty and easy to eat with a drink in one hand, not a thesaurus.

I Hate Roast Potatoes

Nothing seems to arose so much shock and disbelief as my swift rejection of roast potatoes with my Sunday Lunch. To be honest the Sunday Roast is my least favourite meal, maybe because of it's association with the end of the weekend, hair-wash night and the return to school?

Give me a potato in any other form; mashed, boiled, gratin, gnocchi, chipped, rosti, dauphinois, sauteed or even raw and I am a happy girl. I can appreciate the roasted potato looks glorious, burnished with gold and streaked with marmitey edges, almost tempting me to take a bite. . . and I always try one, maybe it will be the one that wins my heart? But, no, it's the same disappointing bland, dry texture and taste hiding within that cunning disguise.

BUT in my only defence of the roasted potato, Bubble and Squeak would not be the same without it's mandatory inclusion of leftover roast spud. All the vegetable spoils of lunch are tipped into my Bubble and Squeak box and deposited in the freezer. For best results there should be about half potato to whatever mix of other vegetables you like, I give it all a quick blitz in my Magimix and then fry or bake until crispy.