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Showing posts from July, 2011

Guest Post: Tamar Yoseloff on Life with Cherries

Many, many thanks to Tamar Yoseloff for agreeing to guest onthe hungry writerthis week. Tamar is a US-born, London-based poet whose fourth collection, The City with Horns, which features a sequence of poems based on the life and work of Jackson Pollock, is recently published by Salt.
And apart from being a wonderful poet, Tamar, when we have the chance to get together, is my eating buddy. This is one of many meals we devoured over a long weekend, here in Antibes, last December:
Enjoy her post about cherries. And life.

Still Life with Plate of Cherries

Opening the box: Steak & Potato Cannes style

There is no story today. Just this:

Does food get prettier than this? This is steak and potato Cannes style, courtesy of the Marriott on La Croisette. Okay the steak does what it says on the menu: chargrilled filet mignon. But the potato, the potato! It said ‘salt baked’ and I expected a potato rubbed with sea-salt and baked in the oven not this jewel: a salt

Cooking Catalunya, Part 2: Christmas Turkey with the Devil

When Tony was accepted on Winchester School of Art’s MA in European Fine Art at their Barcelona studios in 1994 we decided we were too old to live like students, renting a bed-sit or room from the list of the suggested accommodations, so we flew into Barcelona that summer and set about looking for an apartment. It was a task far more difficult than we anticipated, not because we only possessed half a dozen words of Spanish between us, but because Barcelona’s property agents, at least at that time, didn’t have the high street presence we took for granted in the UK.
After a day and a half of walking around the city and not seeing a single agency we checked the Paginas Amarillas and discovered they were all tucked away in offices on the 3rd and 4th floors of the grand buildings that lined the city’s wide 19th century avenues. Two days later we signed a contract for a three bedroom apartment on 42 – 44 Carrer Pi I Margall in the barrio of Gracia, in the north of the city.
A month or so lat…

In Defence of Baking

Some things never turn out as you expect them to.  
 We’ve had guests for most of June and the beginning of July: my niece and her family, then close friends and finally my nephew and his fiancĂ©e, with only a few days of grace between each visit to change beds, wash linen and towels, go shopping and clean the house. When I came back from the airport this morning I imagined I’d luxuriate in the house’s silence, flex my freedom muscles and reconnect with the intimacy of living only with Tony. And it’s true that the house is silent, and regular doses of that is something I need and thrive on. And there’s something very satisfying about your home being returned to your private ownership even if your visitors have been lovely and lively and life-enriching. But, at the same time,