foodblogger – ¡Comemos!

Moroccan-Inspired Lamb and Chickpea Stew with Chilli Cheese Paratha

14th Jan 202014th Jan 2020Leave a comment

When I visited Morocco about 7 years ago now, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t that taken by the food. I entirely put this down to the fact that I was still in my fussy phase at 18, rather than the food actually not being good.

Tagine and Cous Cous were frequently on the menu, and apparently neither of these satisfied me back then. Added to that was the fact that I was on a school ‘expedition’, so most of the meals that I was eating had been cooked for me by our hosts, whether that was Rashid’s wife in Taroudant or the amazing team who looked after us during our camping trek in the Atlas Mountains. Looking back now, this gives me even more reason to be in awe of the food. No choice, just delicious home-cooked (or mountain-cooked) meals dished up for us every breakfast, lunch and dinner. It really was a treat I should’ve appreciated more.

I’ve not really eaten much Moroccan food here either. I once had a tagine from Giraffe at Birmingham aiport, and despite having had some lovely meals from there before, it really wasn’t good.

Other than that, my inspiration for this probably has to come from my Dad’s leftover lamb stew, that we’d have the day after a Sunday Roast. For years I refused to eat it if it had apricots/dates in, as the idea of mixing sweet with savoury really didn’t work for me, but now that’s my favourite part.

I’ve finally come up with my own recipe for it, along with a side dish for mopping up all the sauces, inspired by Nadiya Hussain’s ‘Cheat’s Paratha’.

Of course it would be more ‘authentic’ to serve with cous cous, but ultimately you can choose whichever side dish you wish. This one’s satisfyingly indulgent, but I guess cous cous would be the slightly more health-conscious option.

A few disclaimers before I get to the point.

I don’t do recipe writing. It’s not my forte, but I do want to be able to share my successes. Because of that, my way of instruction won’t be the most precise – you’ll have to trust yourself to go with instinct sometimes, but the basic guidelines will be there.

Serves 2

For the stew

Ingredients:

1 onion

1 large clove of garlic

1 tin of chickpeas

1tsp tamarind paste

1tsp ginger paste

2 tsp rose harissa pasta

1tsp ras el hanout

1 ½ tsp cumin

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tin of chopped tomatoes

handful of dried apricots

small handful of dates

leftover lamb

water

salt/pepper

Heat oil in a pan and add chopped onion and garlic.
When fragrant tip in drained chickpeas.
Add the pastes and spices, give it a good mix and cook for a few minutes.
Chop dried apricots and dates into smaller pieces (generally I’d chop apricots in halves or quarters and dates into thirds), and add these along with the chopped tomatoes and seasoning.
Chuck in the leftover lamb and add enough water so that everything is almost completely submerged.
Leave to cook on a low heat for preferably a couple of hours (if you’re massively impatient like I often am, a shorter cooking time just to reduce the liquid slightly will do)

This stew-style sauce should still be liquidy when ready – don’t expect it to reduce down completely. You are aiming for the perfect balance between a thick pasty sauce and watery broth.

For the ‘Paratha’

Ingredients:

Puff Pastry

1 chilli

½ ball of mozzarella

1 tsp chilli powder

As I mentioned before, this is inspired by Nadiya Hussain’s Cheat’s Paratha. Certainly not a paratha (type of flatbread) in the typical sense, instead of having to make the dough from scratch, here you are just using puff pastry. It ends up having the most amazing soft, spongy texture, and I’ve just added a couple of extra ingredients to make it even more delicious.

Cut your ready-rolled puff pastry into 2 rectangles (you probably want enough that when you roll it into a ball, it’s a fist size).
Roll each rectangle into a ball.
Finely slice your chilli, and tear the mozzarella lump into smaller pieces.
There is no precise technique to this next bit – basically divide the chilli/mozzarella mix into two piles – one for each paratha, and press the puff pastry ball into that pile, constantly pushing the dough around so that the chilli and mozzarella becomes incorporated into the dough. At this point you can also sprinkle over as much chilli powder as you can handle. You want to knead the dough/push it around for a couple of minutes so that the mozzarella and chilli are evenly distributed throughout the dough rather than just being concentrated in one area.
With a rolling pin, roll them flat into circles – I like mine quite thick, so I’d probably go for the thickness of two pound coins. If you’ve used rubbish, cheap mozzarella like me, don’t worry if the dough is incredibly sticky and wet, it might seem like a disaster but it will still work fine.
Heat a frying pan on high, and once rolled out, add your paratha to the dry pan. There’s no specific cooking time, but you want to leave it until it’s crisped up and is no longer sticky at all on one side, and then you can flip it to crisp the other side. A couple of minutes should be enough, but just monitor it and use your common sense.
When fully cooked, you should find that they are browned up on both sides but that the centre is soft and slightly gooey and when you pull it apart, the cheese should stretch between both sides.

Serve the stew with your paratha on the side for a cheesy, spicy dipping experience!

Would love to know if anyone ends up trying this, so please leave a comment or connect with me on Instagram @foodtravelsldn.

Hope you enjoy…

¡Comemos!

‘Influencing’ is not a thing: The polemical world of social media advertising

15th Oct 201915th Oct 2019Leave a comment

Freebies, followers and fame.

Three things that together, summarise a new 21^st century phenomenon.

The world of influencing is a controversial one. Less than ten years ago, the word ‘influencer’ would be defined and understood very simply, and broadly, as follows:

‘A person or thing that influences another.’ (Google definition)

But now it has taken on a whole new meaning. This new meaning stems from a marketing viewpoint, one in which an influencer is recognised as:

‘A person with the ability to influence potential buyers of a product or service by promoting or recommending the items on social media.’ (Google definition)

But here’s where I take a risk. This new term and even ‘career path’ just doesn’t sit comfortably with me. I’ll try and break it down into a few key issues that concern me.

‘Lifestyle’ Influencing

What does this even mean? I have seen numerous Instagram accounts where the person behind it purports to be a ‘lifestyle influencer’. To me, this simply implies that said person doesn’t actually have a main area of interest or passion to justify their ‘blogging’. It suggests to me less than ideal motives such as fame, and the addictive nature of follower counts and likes. ‘Lifestyle’ can encompass so many different things – from home to food, fashion to travel, and realistically no one has a specialist interest or knowledge in all of these vast areas.

2. Aspiring to be an ‘influencer’ as a full-time career

Some people are inadvertently able to influence others due to the following they have accrued through other roles involving talent, for example actors, singers, designers etc. They are able to influence others naturally, as they are well-respected and have made a name for themselves through something they are skilled at. However, aspiring to simply be an ‘influencer’ for me is really quite sad. It shouldn’t constitute a career in itself. Being sent free products or services and posting about them (often using pre-scripted captions – not even using your own words) should not be a job that merits payment. Of course I can see why marketing teams take advantage of this new form of promotion, because ultimately for them it is profitable, but for too many people they reap the rewards without actually putting in much work.

3. If you love something enough you will always be happy to pay for it

Recently I’ve seen many a post on Twitter from food traders telling cringeworthy stories of people asking for free food in return for a feature on their account. It’s quite scary how many responses these posts get from others saying they’ve received the same arrogant requests. Being sent something for free in return for promoting it to help the brand who have got in touch is one thing, but actively contacting businesses yourself to request freebies, for me, really shows no shame. If you are passionate about whatever you talk about on social media, you’ll always be happy to put money into businesses in order to gather content for your page, along with enjoying the product itself, whether that’s spending money on food, beauty products or clothing.

4. Do you even like what you’re promoting???

Of course not all of this applies to eeeeveryone, but there are ‘influencers’ who don’t even appreciate the products and services they receive. People promote for the sake of it when they’re asked to, rather than turning down freebies or payment if they’re not interested in the product. I have met people who have openly admitted that they get so many offers/invites, that it’s just not ‘special’ anymore. When it comes to food blogging, may I ask that if you’re on any kind of diet, be it low-carb, sugar-free etc (unless it’s for genuine health reasons, ie intolerance etc), don’t bother accepting an invite to an indulgent meal where photos are taken, but food is left untouched. Not only is this ridiculous but it’s also incredibly misleading to followers who trust you, when you’ve refused to eat the food. This happens and it is very frustrating.

So, where do I consider myself to be placed within all this? I’m not naïve. With just under 3000 followers on Instagram and a measly 14 on this blog, there would never be any suggestion of me being called an ‘influencer’. And I would never want to be. There are a few reasons I do what I do and I’d like to highlight what I think is the difference.

I combine my love of food and writing. I’m no food expert, nor am I the most talented writer, but I am going to be kind enough to myself to recognise that I do have some sort of skill when it comes to my writing ability, and I enjoy pairing that with my foodie ‘research’ to provide interesting and insightful content.

I started doing this for myself. And still do to a large extent. When I first started my Instagram page, I was scared to follow ‘normal people’ as opposed to business accounts because I was embarrassed, and I certainly didn’t want anyone I knew to ever come across my account as I would’ve found that utterly humiliating at the time. Fortunately now, I no longer play host to this self-conscious mentality, and in fact, when friends and acquaintances contact me to tell me they’re really enjoying my posts, I find it really uplifting. Having said this, it still all comes back to self-gratification. I am my number 1 fan! Literally my own number 1 stalker. The amount of time I spend looking over my own accounts at the foods I’ve eaten and the places I’ve visited is almost a joke. But ultimately, doing this kind of thing for yourself before anyone else means that you never lose sight of why you started.

I spend most of my wage on food. This isn’t a competition. A ‘who can eat out the most’ or who can buy the most expensive meal?’, but the fact of the matter is I don’t need freebies to feed my posts. I love supporting businesses whose food I absolutely adore and would never see this as wasted money. I think in the past year I’ve had 3 free meals, and don’t get me wrong, I’ve been so grateful for each of those. The excitement of receiving an invite will never lose its magic for me, but not in a million years will you see me actively asking for complimentary food.

Photos. I don’t want to stand around a table with 20 other people, bright lights and big cameras, positioning food delicately for half an hour, only to then consume a tiny bit of the food cold. Yes, of course I take photos to complement the written content I produce, but also as something for me to look back on. But I’ll snap a few shots on my phone over about a 30 second period, and then I’ll enjoy my meal. I don’t feel that I owe anything to the people who follow me, I am not producing content for them and so my priority is having a delicious meal with friends/family. This is also why I don’t often produce video content for Instagram stories for example. This is much more time consuming and is too much of a disruption to a relaxed sociable mealtime for me.

So to reiterate, for me, a ‘blogger’ is someone who produces original content, whether it be written, visual or both based on a specific area of interest using skills that they possess.

I’m not going to attempt to provide my own definition of ‘influencer’ to contrast my blogger definition, because I appreciate that some people would consider the two to overlap and would argue that influencing can be a really positive thing, but I think you can gather why I consider them to be very separate from the points above.

Despite my views, I’m not out to offend anyone. I just think it’s disappointing that this new craze-turned-profession is taking the beauty and excitement out of having a genuine passion for something.

Everyone’s entitled to his or her opinion, and I hope I’ve given fair justification for my thoughts. Ultimately, if you love what you do, and you do it for the right reasons, then no harm done.

But really, please don’t aspire to be an ‘influencer’. Who cares if people act based on your promotions or not? Eat because it tastes great. Wear something because it looks amazing on you. Use a skin product because it makes you glow like a goddess. By all means share your thoughts, but don’t base your entire career on convincing people to invest in a product or service just because you’ve been given an incentive to do so.

Less influencing others. More doing it for ourselves.

Ciao xo

and last but not least…

¡Comemos!

Pick and Cheese

3rd Oct 2019Leave a comment

Every time someone tells me they don’t like cheese, my eyes do a 360 roll in my head. Believe me, such people actually do exist, and there’s clearly something wrong with them.

I’m tempted to say that the best kind of cheese is always melted or baked, hot and gooey, an oozy cheese pull stretching from the plate to your mouth. But normal cheese, you know, hard cheese, soft cheese, basically uncooked cheese, is also a delight, especially when accompanied by gallons of wine.

The super successful Cheese Bar, located in Camden, have just opened their wonderful new project in KERB’s latest food hall/market in Seven Dials, Covent Garden. How no one’s come up with this before I’ll never know, but it’s basically like Yo Sushi, for CHEESE…

For anyone who’s not familiar with this set up, you basically find yourself perched on a bar stall, with a conveyer belt of cheese circling before you. Each cheese plate is contained within a little glass pod with a numbered tag, which corresponds to a number on the menu, explaining exactly what it is. The challenge here is finding the number of the cheese in front of you on the menu and deciding whether you fancy it or not, before it flies past and you have to wait for it to do another lap to come back to you.

Belt dish prices range from £2.95 to £6.10 and you can find out the price by looking at the colour of the dish and checking that against the price guides dotted around the restaurant bar in front of you.

Upon arrival I was told there’d be a 30-40 minute wait, which I’d kind of anticipated seeing as it’s new and there’s still a lot of hype surrounding it. They take your phone number and text you when a table is free but you can opt out of this at any time, and there’s loads of seating throughout the food hall where you can sit and wait.

It probably ended up being about half an hour, so really not too long at all.

There are 3 or so off-belt menu items, plus some desserts, but the vast majority of the dishes you can just help yourself to from the belt. There was only one that they didn’t have available as everything is fresh from their various suppliers and on this occasion the supplier wasn’t able to provide it.

Service was friendly and staff were enthusiastic and helpful.

It is honestly so hard to whittle it down to just a few dishes because I was desperate to try everything, but as per, I still gave it a pretty good go.

Plate number 1: Kingham with Walnut Fudge

My ability to articulate the subtleties in cheese flavour and texture is limited, so I’m going to settle for a ‘This was good.’ The cheese was pleasant, described by suppliers as having ‘a buttery, strong flavour, with a Gruyere-like texture.’

That fudge though…

I know it’s not supposed to be the star of the show but it was beautiful. Weirdly, one of the highlights. It was smooth, creamy and absolutely delicious.

Plate number 2: Rachel with Sun Dried Tomato and Basil Pesto

It was the Pesto that appealed with this one, and although it was nice, I found this to be the least exciting. The cheese was still decent, with a kind of manchego-y appearance and texture and a slightly nutty taste, and the pesto did complement it well but the best is still yet to come…

Plate number 3: Fellstone with Sherry Baked Cherries

Definitely one of my favourites here. Although technically a hard cheese, it still has a thick, creamy feel and taste to it. The sharpness of the cherries alongside it worked perfectly. The ultimate example of sweet and savoury working together in harmony.

Plate number 4: Stilton with Chocolate Oat Cookie

Now I had to try this one, as weirdly, it’s made in Cropwell Bishop, the tiny village in Nottinghamshire where I went to Primary School. They actually have two cheeses on the menu but I went for the Stilton as I absolutely LOVE blue cheese. It took me a while as a teenager before I was willing to stop turning my nose up in disgust and actually try it, but now I can’t get enough. So honestly, if you’ve always avoided it, you really should give it a chance, as it’s a lot tastier than its mouldy appearance might lead you to believe.

I’m not entirely sure why they decided to pair it with a chocolate chip cookie (am I missing something obvious?) but regardless, I’m not complaining, it was a softly-baked (random) side treat.

(Wine also excellent and inexpensive)

My friend tried the other Cropwell Bishop cheese which was the Beauvale with Sticky Pear Jam so I had a tiny bit of this one too. Super soft and creamy with a the sweet, sticky jam, I would definitely recommend it.

Plate number 5: OFF BELT

You CANNOT, I repeat, CANNOT, visit Pick and Cheese without ordering this dish which appears on the menu but not on the conveyer belt.

Whole Baked Waterloo with Basil Stewed Blackberries and Bread

Remember when I was talking about baked/melted cheese being unbeatable at the beginning? Well…

LOOK AT THIS. JUST LOOK AT IT. Not only does it look massively exciting, but it was one of the most delicious things I’ve eaten in a while. There’s actually quite a bit more to it than appears here, and it’s definitely more of a sharer.

The sharpness of the blackberries with that gooey baked goodness was heaven. Can’t say I was getting much basil from it other than the giant tree-frog-style leaf but I didn’t want the basily vibes anyway. The bread is unexciting but entirely necessary for dippage.

Honestly, when I go back (and I 100% will), I’m getting this just for myself. No sharing.

Just as a side note, they do also have a few charcuterie dishes but I wanted to stick exclusively to the cheese this time round.

Overall, I was super impressed with Pick and Cheese. It’s not just a meal, but a fun dining experience. For all the above dishes plus the glass of wine and service I think I paid about £35 which I thought was really reasonable. Waiters add up the prices based on the colours of the piled up dishes that you’ve accumulated throughout the course of the meal.

I love that each cheese comes with a unique, complementary side, and I’ll be honest, this often influenced my choices more so than the cheese itself!

This place is wonderful. It’s situated within a buzzing (but not overwhelming) food hall environment, has a sophisticated feel to it and produces some excellent food. I, for one, can’t wait to go back with other friends and family.

It may not be a hidden gem, but it lights up London’s food scene all the same.

¡Comemos!

Big Mamma Group’s ‘Gloria Trattoria’

21st Jul 2019Leave a comment

Restaurant review numero tre and it’s a popular one. Gloria was opened in Shoreditch by the Big Mamma group earlier this year and people went wild over it. Queueing for crazy lengths of time to get a table was standard, and the same thing is now going down with their newly-opened sister restaurant Circo Popolare.

It’s sometimes nicer to let the hype die down a bit before you visit somewhere, and although for me it wasn’t intentional, clearly I did go at a time when people were so busy obsessing over Circo Populare that getting into Gloria was actually pretty straight forward.

Before I get stuck in, I want to emphasise that my intention is never to rant and rave about a restaurant and put people off. There is a significant difference between a restaurant that serves poor quality food with subpar service, and a lovely restaurant, with well-cooked food and a good menu, but that on one particular occasion ends up serving up food that isn’t to your personal taste. My experience at Gloria falls into the latter category. I had heard so many positive reviews of this place before trying it myself, so please bear this in mind as you read on.

It’s super inviting, light and bright, with an abundance of plants and leafy decor both on the inside and outside. Be aware that you may end up sandwiched on a table incredibly close to the diners beside you (especially if there are only two of you), which I understand seeing as they are so popular, and ultimately this having more tables squeezed in means a shorter wait time, but it’s not ideal.

And so we begin. The starter. I have never in my life ordered Burrata before, and had reached a point where I felt like this was a bit embarrassing considering I think I’m the world’s most enthusiastic foodie. Having said this, I think I reminded myself why I’d never ordered it when it came. For me, a cheese lover, burrata just isn’t the same. IT HAS NO FLAVOUR. Am I wrong? Please feel free to enter into discussion with me if you disagree but I can’t work out why people seem to love it so much. On top of that, the creamier the burrata, the more it seems to be raved about, but for me, this just emphasises the fact that it doesn’t work as a stand alone dish.

There was more pesto than this, it’s just not visible in the photo!

It looks pretty, there’s no denying that. And at least this particular burrata came with pesto and some other unknown sauce as pictured above. But still that did not make it the wonderful experience I was hoping it would be. I should also mention that it was pretty big. This isn’t a starter for one, it’s definitely a sharer.

For mains I chose the truffle pasta, as I feel like both the truffle pasta and carbonara are praised fairly often on social media. I have to admit, Mafaldine is not my favourite pasta shape – it’s has the length of spaghetti but with wavy edges, and I found it slightly slimy. I got a lot from the truffle flavour, but similar to the burrata, I think truffle is kind of overrated. The subtlety of truffle oil on pizza etc can be a tasty addition, but when it’s supposed to be the star of the show like in this pasta I feel like it can be bit overwhelming and can get sickly.

Dessert was where my heart was well and truly broken. I had been so excited to try their famous lemon meringue pie with the giant, wobbly, fluffy meringue topping but this didn’t seem to be on their lunch menu, so instead, I went for my second choice of the giant profiterole.

Honestly I do not want to keep being negative but this was probably my least favourite course. First off, it really is giant – again, not a dessert for one (and that’s coming from me – someone with an impressive appetite). Sandwiched in between the profiterole pastry is ice cream, but it doesn’t have that lovely vanilla bean flavour you hope for; instead, it’s the kind of bland that you find in those flavourless school choc-ice bars. I had also expected it to be hot, with a rich, warm, fudgey sauce. In reality, the sauce was cold (intentionally so) and pale and seemed more like melted chocolate ice cream. It completely drowns the profiterole which was actually the only bit I semi-enjoyed.

Please do not ask me why this looks like a close up of something cooked up on The Sims – I don’t think I’ve done any kind of outrageous, unintentional editing. But yeah, just not the one at all. And I genuinely am sad to say it.

To be fair, the service was great and the bill really wasn’t bad, I had been expecting to pay a fair bit more, but I’m just sorry that I can’t be more positive about my experience of the food.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this meal just wasn’t to my taste. These things are so subjective, and had we been presented with carelessly prepared, unimaginative food and bad service, I would go in slightly harder with my review, but here that just wasn’t the case.

So, now’s your chance to make up your mind: burrata, truffle pasta and profiteroles – do they do it for you? If so, get down to Gloria, and…

¡Comemos!