And A Few More English Things To Do

With the advent of some fair weather the past month-and-a-bit, I have managed to spend a great many weekends ticking off some more of the "102 English Things To Do". 

Most recently, we went to a Chilli Festival. Yes, exactly as it sounds- a food festival to celebrate the tiny-but-terrifying fruit. Set in the grounds of a large stately home called Eastnor Castle and with ambiance of steel drums and a mariachi band, I managed to spend far too much money on novelty "bespoke" local food-stuffs spiced with an array of chilli varietals: chilli-cheese buns, chilli vodka, chilli chocolate, deep fried stuffed chilli peppers... the list goes on. And when immersed in a food festival, it's the prime time to partake in the following English Things To Do:

#15: Form a Queue: where a particularly English Queue starts with one person, even "at a shop counter which is temporarily un-staffed" and "an English person will be seen waiting patiently, facing forward, holding their purchase and vigilant to any signs that the assistant is going to return". Or perhaps one of the worst sorts of social awkwardness where there is "queue ambiguity" and even the thought of going ahead of another might threaten one's Englishness.

And recently as an impatient foreigner, I can assure you I received a "force-10 disapproval of all observers" whilst waiting to place an order for some over-priced olives (stuffed with chillis). I did do the "no, after you glance dance" for about a millisecond before my inner monologue said "Eff-it! You're at the Mediterranean stall, no queues necessary". I can confirm that one tut, and two sets of dagger-eyes immediately came my way. I promptly sass-eyed the group straight back to imply that if they were truly English, they should know that most queues form from left to right. Pfft!

Also at a food festival, it is a good place to do #18: Get Your Round In: Regardless of how drunk participants are getting, it is nearly as socially awkward as not forming a queue to not partake in round buying with English folk resulting in "distinctly beta- or gamma-male" social status if you fail to do so. The key is to plan out where you wish to be in the round- there truly is strategy from a social sense, and my interpretation goes as follows:

Position 1: 

You are the Alpha-male. You have the money and you want to brag that the night will fall out as you've now dictated. Down side: if you hang around for long enough, it might come back to your round= more money lost. Note: Round order stays the same, it would be as sacrilege as queue jumping to change your order of round buying, for essentially, round buying is an unofficial type of queue.

Position 2:

You're a Wannabe- (and in my opinion the worst place to be in socially, unless you're in a round of three, or one male and the rest female) never quite as swift and confident as the Alpha. You safely remember what people are drinking because it's early and you've probably smugly played this up to show how good you are. The problem is that nobody is drunk enough, yet so they see your smugness and secretly think you are a loser for this.

It is only acceptable to be in Position 2 if the group is comprised of one male (then the man is naturally in Position 1) and the rest females. In this case where Position 2 is a female round buying after the only male, this female ascertains Alpha-status of the entire group. She is respectful of the man (allowing him to think he is THE man by getting the first round in), yet demonstrates her monetary power and prowess by jumping in at the right time. Note: it demonstrates utmost lack of self-esteem for the only man in an all female group to buy the round in any position after 2.

However and in any case, if you are unlucky enough for the round to come back to you in the night (groups of more than 4), you might make up for your smugness by purchasing a round of shots for the group. This will either kill your social status within the group completely, or else you've jusssht-mmaaaade life long friendsh. 

Position 3:

Miss/ter Astute: in my opinion the best place to be in (thus my normal round buying strategy). You might still just remember everyone else's order, or rather, you are now giving those in the group a chance to change their order (a dignified way of taking a break with a non-alcoholic bevvy). And because you're recall ability is still in tact, and you've not jumped at the chance to show off, you're still socially accepted! 

It is unlikely that any group members would have left by now (because if someone leaves early, and you haven't bought them a drink, then you will be secretly resented). You can now secretly buy yourself a sobering-up drink disguised as a new type of cocktail. And finally, it is unlikely the round will come back to you; unless you are only 3 in the round, in which you have the dignified act of wrapping up the night. Those shots you might buy in position 6 now become a celebratory sign-off.

Positions 4, 5, 6...

If you're a first in 4, 5, or 6 then chances are high that people are already well imbibed, so they love you for buying them another. As hinted at earlier, if you are a second round 4, 5, or 6 then you've already ascertained your social status in the drinks chain.One one last note, it is socially acceptable to decline from joining in the round buying when there are more than 6 participants.

As this food festival was at Eastnor Castle, in Herefordshire, it was only natural that all rounds checked #100: Drink Traditional Cider- and by cider I mean the sort for grown-ups... "often associated with the 'West Country' (Cornwall, Somerset, Devon) but also found in more northerly parts such as Worcestershire and Herefordshire. 

The Herefordshire origin variety is what I drink most, and I like the description offered in the book:

Real farm-brewed cider bears little resemblance to the bottled variety sold in shops. It is flat, with not fizz, and has a complex flavour which differs from county to county and farm to farm. Aficianados can detect ... many other notes, such as straw, cow-dung, chicken-dung, cheese, horse-dung, other dung, mud and bees.

I can admit that I have tasted a good body of cheese, straw, and bees with top notes of unspecified dung and that no two Traditional Ciders taste the same. The cider at this particular event was from our good ol' favourite Broome Farm (in Herefordshire).

Also in Herefordshire, but part of a previous weekend, Craig and I partook in #86: Visit an AONB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty). This point explains one of my most loved reasons for living in the UK (or England): "Only around 20% of the land of England is inhabited by people. The remaining 80% is empty". And it really does feel like that, which is a phenomenon considering there are +66 million people living on this tiny set of islands. 

A declared Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty is just that and there are officially 33 AONBs in England. What makes me laugh is how "most English people never see an AONB and know about them only by hearsay, because, despite the more difficult financial climate, they still prefer to take a holiday abroad.". 

I can truly say I've experienced this before, and especially when English people ask me why the heck I am here and not in Canada. When I poetically ramble on about the rolling green hillside, trimmed with fluffy green hedgerow, and dotted with families of sheep and lambs, I've witnessed a reminiscent smile creep across more than one native English-person's face.

What might you find in an AONB? Well, something that allows you to complete #78: Eat Nettles- Nettles are a staple plant much abundant in the English countryside. And for those of you who aren't familiar, nettles are horrible! Especially when you've inadvertently brushed your leg against one whilst rambling in an AONB. Nettles "produce their 'sting' with thousands of tiny hypodermic needles that discharge boric acid". So why would you eat these?

Folklore goes back to a story with the theme of "who has the longest?!" between two farmers. The losing farmer was to eat their raw nettle in defeat; and from this spun off an annual competition of nettle eating. The rules of the competition state you are to eat the nettles raw- "nevertheless, mouth-to-nettle contact can lead to facial paralysis" which might actually be another meaning of the "British Stiff Upper Lip" (#12). 

I can confess that my rationality would never lead me to partake in such pure activities, even if dressed in the cloak of a competition; I did however eat nettles this past month in the form of another great English food- the pakora :) How so?

I went on a foraging coarse- what can I pick to eat out of my back garden? What is tasty? What won't kill me? Nettles, Wild Garlic, Hedge Garlic, Woodaven, Cherry Blossom, Wild Rose, Lime (Tilia cordata), and Hawthorn are all new plants to jazz up the plates at a dinner party. What have I tried again since the course? I managed to find a field of Wild Garlic 200m behind my house where I whipped up some pesto the other week. Also in this nature space behind my house and in addition to the fields of Blackberry hedges, there are Elderberry Trees and Hedgerow Garlic. And I am really hoping to find some clove-flavoured Woodaven roots and horseradish to dig up. Stay tuned.

Wild Garlic Pesto

Elderflower (left)            Hedgerow Garlic (right)

Woodaven shortbread prep

Lastly to tick off the list (or not) is #77: Extreme Ironing. Well, I can admit that this wasn't quite what I expected, and it has now made my bucket list. I thought that as a result of my recent weekends gallivanting, I had taken part in Extreme Ironing in that I had about a month's worth of ironing to get through in one go- I can confirm that I had to fill the iron three times! to get through it all. 

Alas no, Extreme Ironing is not spending your weekend pressing your pillowcases to achieve that hotel starchy crispness, but in fact the act is as literal as it states. 

Extreme Ironing may be defined as a quest for thrills while simultaneously achieving a perfect crease. Participants go skydiving, potholing, bungee-jumping, or skiing, only with an ironing board and iron.

From what I can tell, the main rule is that the paired activity must be thrilling by itself. I better start thinking about how I can actually work this into my life! Perhaps I am not yet eccentrically English enough to find an obvious enough answer, or perhaps it's my logical brain that is impeding me from becoming truly eccentrically English. I might just hold onto the latter a little while longer and demonstrate my will for citizenship in the form of a queue at the immigration office instead.

What an Adventure!

"So you're a research scientist, you've come to Britain, and you're on MasterChef... you really do love an adventure?"

Just a bit, eh?!

So how did this all come about? Some of my friends wouldn't be surprised that I ended up on reality TV- really, since the first ever season of Survivor, and ever-so building with watching the Amazing Race series, I've secretly wanted to be on a show. And like most armchair critics, my competitive nature makes me think- hey, I'm better than that person (or not in this case). 

September rolled on, still coming down from my Kili high, I did what any (attention grabbing) junkie does and scoured around for my next hit. I need some more stimulation, I thought- something to get wrapped up in! What should it be? To the internet I went in search of the application form for the Great British Bake Off.; however, it was not open yet. Ok, if not Bake Off, then what is a suitable substitute? MasterChef?! And a bit of self-commentary here:

"Are you really sure you want to do this?!"

"Why not, who says I'll get in?"

"But you know you'll get in, for the reason that you don't really want to get in?"

"That's not true. I think I can do it."

"But the thought of taking part in the professional kitchen makes you want to run away in terror"

"I'll cross that bridge when it comes"

And with that, I filled out the application form to the best of my TV-appropriate answering ability and sent it off. Now, I'm not allowed to speak about the details, so I will skip onward to commenting with my two cents/pence on what is in the public domain.

Picnic style: Braised duck in thyme-infused tortellini with blackberry reduction and creme fraiche. I might have had to cook something like this before what you saw on TV.

Filming is in advance of airing, and with enough time that I managed to forget about the live commentary I provided at the time. I even managed to calm down and underplay the feelings I had in the whirlwind of a time I was involved. Under contract, I was/am not allowed to spoil the magic, so only a handful of people knew what I was up to. My little secret- how spesh! However, some keen foodies spotted me about a week prior to airing as programme dates were confirmed on the official website. And would you look at that, who do you see?

As word started to get out, my colleagues were asking me if it was true. Should I or should I not alert the masses? In sheer fear of making an ass of myself, I kept the interests of the show in tact and downplayed the event. The truth was, I couldn't remember what I had said at the time of filming- I did, however, have flashback hints (like a Sunday afternoon after a rough Saturday out)- was I really the smart ass to seal their fate at the point of self-review?

Anyone that watches reality TV/ TV competitions knows that as soon as someone says they are better than the group, they are gone! I remembered saying something to that effect, and sorry to spoil it for those of you that haven't yet watched, I said goodbye after Day 1. To be exact- "I'm definitely not the furthest along, but I definitely think I'm not at the bottom". If I was sat on my couch watching someone I didn't know, I'd be snarkily stating how they were going home after such a comment. And so did those punters live-commenting on the Facebook page. Interestingly, though- I remember feeling more smug when I said that on the day, which didn't come across on camera, (thank god!) and, the judges didn't hear that interview so, voted my smug-ass off for some other reason that still isn't that clear to me. 

Apart from that comment, I couldn't remember what other cringe-worthy strings of words I slung together, which was why my hesitancy only strengthened my yearning for secrecy from the whole experience. It turned out that I had to watch it at the point of broadcast with the rest of the UK.

Below are a string of frames from the show with some of the thoughts going through my head at the time:

OMG- I'm in the TV! At this point I'm normally tucked up on the couch with a glass of wine anticipating what disasters are about to unfold. I am now the one who I normally judge. Keep calm- and do what I need to do.

And do this by smashing the heck out of my meat!

Mushroom stuffed port tenderloin with a honey balsamic glaze. Yes, those are toothpicks because my meat-tying skills are appalling.

Not looking disgusted, phew! Note here: What was aired was probably less than a third of the footage that was actually taken. In each of the high pressure cooking hours that we had to produce and edible plate of food, John Torode prowled the benches smugly smelling and getting into elements to be included in the contestant's dishes. I received a sceptical glance at the state of my home-grown sage (we got to bring in an element from home to include if we wished), but an approving glance when he tucked his unwashed hands into my pastry crumbs.

The two dishes that I produced for the show: 

Above- Calling Card: Mushroom stuffed pork tenderloin with a honey balsamic glaze. On a bed of creamed leeks (kudos to The Nowell's for their inspiration). Served with roast potatoes, tomatoes, and crispy sage. 

Below- Invention Test: Carameliszd fig crumble with lavender infused pastry and lavender infused marscapone cheese.

Gregg "love, love, loving the lavender infused cream". Too bad he didn't appreciate the subtlety of my garlic in the first round.

Just a few notes about the show format for those of you who aren't familiar. 

The first round we were asked to prepare our Calling Card. "It gives us an idea of what kind of cook you are". Something to be prepared in an hour with no sweet/ savoury restrictions. I battled with the strategy of the first round- do I do reliable or daring? If I get reliable bang-on, then it will trump the muppets that mess up their daring. However, there is a risk of playing it too safe. I erred on reliable. I have cooked far more complex and exciting things than pork; however, with the knowledge of what the Day 2 challenge was, I didn't want to serve pork to potential diners who were adverse to it. Let's start with it- use some sage from the garden, and with good execution I should sit comfortably (or so I thought).

Those familiar with the format know that there are many different challenges throughout the journey, and one of the classics is the Invention Test. Choose a box: Sweet or Savoury. You have a basic larder, but don't know what is in the box. You have 10 minutes to think of something to cook in 1-hour. I was so excited to take part in either this round or the Palate Test (test my sensory ability to the max!!). How do you prepare? You need to know some core recipes off the top of your head; so the night before filming, I got my little red book of recipes out and studied things I could make with core ingredients: pastries (shortcrust, puffed, crumble) and sauces (Hollandaise and veloute based).

The instant that I walked into the "kitchen" and saw the choice of two boxes, my brain did what it does best and jumped straight into action planning mode. I cannot remember the introductory spiel that the hosts were rattling off- my ears were closed to them as I processed the larder ingredients in front of me. Flour, icing sugar, eggs, butter- sorted! Now, think hard- what are your pastry ratios! By choosing the Sweet box, chances are extremely high that there will be fruit in the box= tatin or crumble. 

Here is what I had to work with: Stem ginger, figs, pastry, rosemary, marscapone, eggs, lavender apricots, and pine nuts. Classically apricot and ginger sticks in my head, but as that was the first combination I thought of, I discounted it as being too common. Hmmm... figs?! Let's try them. And, to be more interesting, throw some herbs in there as any nouveaux chef is doing these days. What was risky- I have never used figs nor lavender in my cooking. What the heck do I even do with figs? Are they peeled? I sliced one and ate the skin- it wasn't horrible so left it on the rest of them. One hour later, the fig tatin that I had intended to make ended up more like a crumble, so I disappointingly trimmed around the edges to tidy up the presentation (in hindsight I wish I would have sliced it, instead), got some over-caramelized fig caught in my teeth (you can see me picking it out on the show) and brought my plate to the judges at the front with a live crumble-re-branding as I presented the dish.

I received positive (lovely touch of lavender, excellent pastry, kudos for doing a sweet) and negative (figs too hard) comments, and ultimately was dismissed as the second contestant to leave the episode.

Gutting, yes. Bittersweet, yes- especially when I walked through the doors after being dismissed and the producers were flabbergasted! However, better now than when I invested more emotion into the competition; and, I was secretly dreading cooking my two courses in the next round. Concocting pan-fried duck breast on parsnip puree, with curly kale, and a blackberry reduction as a main with homemade pumpkin pie (from raw, whole pumpkin) to a finished product in 1hr 15min was terrifying me, but I can honestly say that the entirety of the experience was amazing and unforgettable!

And to end off, I would like to share some of the comments I received from those rooting for me during the live broadcast and fans that commented the next day:

Love from Saira Hamilton, finalist in 2013 (although I remember shouting at the TV that I can poach eggs better than her!)

Live feed on Facebook during the show.

And perhaps my favourite, after a rather large smashing from parochial Guardian writer Sam Wollaston- here is the link to the article. How dare you assume all Canadians are from Toronto!

And a mulligan of how my dessert should have been. 

The progarmme can be watched on YouTube:

http://youtu.be/6G5qilsm6Cw