"Slimy Stuff"- A Japanese New Year's Breakfast

お餅

I was full of anticipation for this breakfast because I had so little idea of what we would be eating, only that it would be fairly slimy. Before eating, I was told to beware not to choke on my 'mochi' (spelling?) as a lot of old japanese women apparently do. I was wondering why until I tried it and had to keep cool at the table with a large gelatinous lump in my mouth unable to be quite swallowed. After this initial encounter I found myself eating more and more.

It was first hidden within a miso soup, then on its own with soy sauce and then with a sort of sweet soy powder called 'kinako'. I went crazy and tried mixing the two which proved to be equally yummy. Mochi is essentially rice pound into square cakes. Keiko (who prepared the meal) told us about the traditional mochi-pounding ceremony that happens in Japan. It sounds great - I love the idea of rituals based around food. Perhaps more of the food we eat should be symbolic of certain things, or maybe that should just stay with ceremonial meals. It might be time to get out Nigella's 'Feast' and see what festivals are coming up.

The other dishes were sweet potato and chestnut with sherry (Keiko had run out of sake), very salty preserved roe, those white/pink circular pieces of processed fishyness which look like rubbers, and a carrot salad. Thank you to 6 Hestercombe for this feast!

Orange Weekend

I was having trouble thinking of ideas for a birthday present for my dad when I saw a marmalade recipe in the newspaper. Suddenly I knew exactly what I would do and it would be the perfect present. My local veg shop was doing 2 for £1 on blood oranges so along with my Sevilles I bought six of these, with the image of beautiful jewel-like red jelly in my mind.

The recipe I used didn't request preserving sugar or added pectin so the process was done thoroughly in order to draw out the needed pectin. I peeled the zest off of about 5 oranges in strips and tied it up in muslin, and then thinly sliced the rest of the fruit, pith and all. This was all bubbled and reduced with about 750 ml water for 2 hours - great for producing a nice orangey fragrance throughout the flat. After 2 hours I drained this liquid through moor muslin and used this syrup to finally make the marmalade with. I made a whole second batch using the same method with the blood oranges I'd bought.

The blood oranges were unfortunately not quite as bloody as I'd hoped, making for quite an average coloured marmalade, although cloudier. The standard Seville one looked and tasted exactly how I thought marmalade should - hooray. It was much appreciated by my dad who received the parcel just in time for breakfast.

The weekend continued to be somewhat orange themed with the decision to make Ottolenghi's celebratory-looking Orange Polenta Cake for R's 'Sunday Best' twenty-first birthday. With only a couple of hours before we were expected, I was determined to make it, although succeeding with the caramel topping proved tricky under time constraints. The cake is made upside down, with a layer of caramel at the base, followed by sliced orange and then the cake mixture. I had never really made caramel before, but went about it calmly following the recipe and it turned out perfectly the first time - however I wasn't quick enough to spread it over the entire base. Casually, I scrapped it and started again not thinking that both second and third attempts would fail. This made for a slightly less relaxed baking process than normal but with the only downside of a slightly over-moist base, the cake was perfect for a glamourous birthday girl.

Pizza pilgrimage

I finally went to Franco Manca,a pizza place in Brixton that has acquired general recognition of its brilliance through the kind of people who told me about it, who had heard - been - and passed it on. I just never went until now. But I knew it would be good, there was no question. So when I went it was not to 'see what all the fuss was about' it was because pizza was going to be the right kind of lunch for that day, and that was it.

On a very cold day I travelled down to Brixton for this lunch - a birthday lunch, but a very informal one with only three attendees. I arrived early, and walked around the covered market for a few minutes before deciding to settle and wait at the restaurant with my book - this gave longer time to think about my pizza choice. The place was packed (obviously) but there was a table in the outside area where I was able to wait. It being such a cold day, the waitress had her eye on me and as soon as opportunity came, almost forced me to move inside to warm up. Water was immediately brought out for me to somewhat quench my hunger in the 20 minute wait for my fellow diners.

Already the experience was what I knew it would be - I just couldn't wait for my pizza. The table we had was placed with a view of one of their ovens, herby chunks of potato being popped in and out making us all the more hungry. Sadly we were informed these were an ingredient for one of tomorrow's specials, 'something hearty for the cold'. Indeed. All pizzas come on a sourdough base, so even though it is doughier than I expected, doesn't seem overly bready. I chose number 2 out of 6 on their 'Autumn menu': Mozzarella, Buffalo ricotta and wild mushroom. At 50p extra I asked for tomato sauce - I just think if I came for a pizza I should probably have it, sorry Franco Manca to ruin your creation. After the time I had waiting, luckily my friends knew immediately what they would order (they had looked at the website online; it's always fun) and with one Gloucester-old spot ham and one chorizo we had a good range to try.

The pizza was unforgettably good, but I knew it would be. I didn't make the trip down to Brixton to test the place, and this certainly isn't a review but more a document stating how glad I am to have made the journey. I'll say this now before I mention that having ordered a bottle of their house red and drunk all but a couple of glasses, a member of staff's swift elbow came out of nowhere on passing with a pizza order and knocked the bottle on its side. Aside from a splash of red on denim, there really was no need for them to apologize by giving us another open bottle containing more than the amount we'd lost. Between two and a half people then (one left early) our lunchtime consumption was more than usual but in no way is the reason why I thought the pizzas were so excellent.

www.francomanca.co.uk

4, Market Row, Electric Lane, Brixton, London. SW9 8LD. Monday to Saturday 12-5