‘Most of us are asleep most of the time,’ says Jamie Oliver in the new Sainsbury’s television commercial, possibly recorded before he went off to Italy with a film crew and production team for his much-needed break from the cameras. ‘Even when we shop we are sleep-shopping,’ he continues, ‘filling our trolleys with exactly the same things week in, week out.’ Christ, I thought, you’ve got a point there, James. That’s exactly what I do. I can go to the supermarket absolutely determined to not buy any of the stuff I usually buy but I still somehow manage to come home with all the stuff I always buy. ‘There’s a million meals to choose from so why eat the same ones again and again?’ Why indeed? ‘Do you remember the first time you ever tasted honey? Wouldn’t it be great to taste something new for the first time again? Use your imagination. Be adventurous. We’re not talking rocket science.’ He then grates some nutmeg on to his spaghetti bolognaise which, apparently, has resulted in sales of Sainsbury’s nutmeg jumping from 1,400 jars a week to 6,000. I believe that is a rise of 430 per cent. I worked that out myself. It’s not rocket science. It’s not even rocket salad, for which we must be thankful, as there is nothing as dull as rocket.
Anyway, the ad ends on this entreaty: ‘Cook something different today.’ Right, I think, I bloody will. But what? I realise now that — much like everyone else, I hope — I have a very limited repertoire. If, in our house, it’s not pasta, it’s something else that’s boring, like chops with vegetables and potatoes and if it’s not that, then it’s something just as boring, like a bit of fish with veg and potatoes and if it’s not that, it’s the Delia Smith recipe for barbecue chicken legs that I do over and over and over and over …oh, it’s all so boring. I’m not quite sure how this has happened. Perhaps simply doing the same thing again and again saves on thinking and planning and means you can whizz round the supermarket because you know where everything you need is. Yes, I have cookbooks, and probably thousands of recipes to hand, but I’m not sure how that works either. Some books I don’t use at all. Others might have just one recipe that I keep returning to. I think I’m going to have to call in …SuperJane!
Jane is my neighbour. Jane is a good and adventurous cook. I know this because when I’ve sometimes gone round to borrow something that may or may not ever be returned, I’ll say, ‘What’s that wonderful smell?’ And she will say: ‘I’m just cooking my 24-hour pork that I put in the oven four weeks ago last Tuesday.’ I put it to Jane that for a few days our family will eat whatever her family eats. It might give me just the jolt I need. She agrees. Jane knows to keep me sweet because she knows that if she doesn’t I’ll spread nasty rumours about her. For example, I could put it about that her children are being privately tutored so they get into a school much better than anyone else’s will go to. This sort of thing always creates a great deal of panic and bad feeling in Crouch End. She may even be publicly stoned one day outside Clinton Cards.
I think, initially, it will be a simple matter of getting Jane’s list from Ocado or whatever but it isn’t. She is into Asian cooking, which is fine by me, as my own Asian cooking doesn’t extend much beyond slapping bits of chicken about in Thai green curry paste. She is just about to go to the Wing Yip, the Chinese/Japanese superstore in Cricklewood, so should she buy for me whatever she buys for herself? Yes, I say. Then there is the fish man, she says. Should she tell him to call? The fish man? Yes, she says, the fish man in the van who comes to our road twice a week. There is a fish man who comes to our road in a van twice a week? How come I’ve lived in this road for 12 years and have never seen the fish man? What have I ever done to any of you that you’ve kept the fish man secret from me? Oh shut up, she says. Do you want him to call or not? Yes, please.
Jane returns from Wing Yip (her home delivery service is excellent). I get wonderful bottles of all manner of strange condiments: mirin, grain vinegar, chilli bean sauce, chilli oil and a large bottle of something that is honey-coloured and smells of sherry and is called Shaosing, which, apart from anything else, is just such a pleasing word to say. Then Jane sends round Craig, the fish man from Grimsby. I think the fish must be very fresh because when he opens the back of his van there is no smell. I get what Jane gets: a big hunk of tuna. Now, I do cook tuna, but there is only one way that I do it. I sear the steaks in a hot grill pan with a bit of lemon and pepper, and that’s it, because that’s what you do with tuna when you have a limited repertoire. Jane, though, has a more glamorous end in mind for this tuna. Tonight we are having raw tuna with sesame soy, from one of Jane’s most used recipe books, Very Simple Food by Jill Dupleix. Here is what you do: cut 350g fresh tuna into small dice, around 1cm. Whisk together 1 tbs soy sauce, 1 tbs mirin, 1 tsp sesame oil, 1 tsp Dijon mustard. (These are the measurements given, although I’d actually double them if you’d like some of the marinade to put over any accompaniments.) Add the tuna to the dressing and toss lightly. And that is it! It actually takes less time than all the boring stuff I do over and over. We eat it with some steamed Chinese greens and Ms Dupleix’s recipe for crash hot potatoes (boil whole, unpeeled potatoes until nearly done, squash on to an oiled baking tray with a potato masher, sprinkle with oil, salt, a few herbs, then put in a hot oven for half an hour.) I am not mad about raw fish but the tuna is absolutely amazing, as soft and sweet as a baby’s bottom. It actually does melt in the mouth. The potatoes, which go all crisp and golden, are a big hit, too. I wonder what we are having tomorrow?
We are having, it turns out, beef with ginger and broccoli (from Yan-Kit’s Classic Chinese Cookbook) and the following night, after a further visit from Craig — MY FISH MAN! — it is scallops in Shaosing and chilli bean sauce (Ken Hom’s Chinese Cookery). And now I’m exhausted. It is exhausting, exploring the world beyond your repertoire. But I’m glad I’ve done it. I’ve learnt three new dishes, all of which I will happily repeat. Go on, cook something different today. Jane says she’ll deliver throughout London, as well as nationwide, and this includes, obviously, the Scottish highlands and islands. The more remote the better. Toodle-pip!
A few very helpful tips: www.wingyip.com (for oriental groceries); Very Simple Food by Jill Dupleix (Quadrille, £20); Classic Chinese Cookbook by Yan-Kit (Dorling Kindersley, £10.99); Ken Hom cookery books (come on, everyone has one of those somewhere, along with a wok in the cellar); Craig, the fish man, who I now know comes to our road twice a week, the little darling (tel: 07768 756472).
Comments