I grew up in a house full of food. Mum ran a catering business, so if I snuck into the larder, I might find tantalising, forbidden treats on a high shelf – out of the dog’s reach, but not mine – waiting to be transported to a wedding. A delicately decorated poached salmon, with cucumber scales; glistening rice salad; coronation chicken, with toasted almonds ready to be scattered over before serving; quiche Lorraine; hazelnut meringues oozing with apricot puree and cream.
Lucky – I know – but of course, I never learnt to cook with Mum. Not only was I obstreperous, knowing everything already, but I secretly feared I’d never meet the high standards she held herself to, instilled at the Cordon Bleu school in Paris, where Mum had spent a year in the 1960s. I did learn to be greedy though and like my sister, Roo, have enjoyed cooking ever since.
Over the years, I’ve accumulated several shelves of cookbooks. Some have titles combining a famous chef’s name with a friendly word like ‘easy’, or ‘simple’; despite the gushing reviews on Amazon, I know the recipes are out of reach without an army of kitchen assistants. Others, beautiful to leaf through, as evocative as travel brochures; are better to drool over, than cook from. Finally, there are a handful I return to regularly; making me salivate and get a pan out. I know the food is delicious and the recipes work at home.
This blog is my attempt to meet that challenge: yummy, clear recipes. Some I’ve tweaked over years; others are one-off experiments, with scribbled notes made when ingredients happen to work together. There are many that don’t make the grade. Where I’ve tweaked another cook’s recipes, I’ll let you know. The photos are mine, or my family’s. Any feedback, comments, recipe suggestions or photos would be fab.
I’m in the process of adding recipes to Instagram @floursaltwater1
Ben