Spectator Life

The legacy of Greek antiquity extends to the country’s cuisine. One eats there as the Ancients would have done—Greek yoghurt and honey for breakfast, simply-cooked fish and cold wine for lunch and supper—as one reclines languidly on the klinai couch, grapes dangling from the mouth, like Dionysius and Adephagia. Greek food can sometimes be disparaged

If you’re a coffee lover and can’t comprehend mornings without a strong cup, now might be the perfect time to invest in a machine that will stand the test of time. After all, it’s going to be a while before we can rely on a barista to whip us up a cup on the way

Are toasties the ultimate comfort food? For me, they have to be in the top three at the very least. Toasties mean late nights or early suppers; they mean eating in the kitchen, standing up, or sitting on the sofa, probably in your pyjamas; they mean picking the little bits of escaped melted cheese from

If, like me, you’re thinking longingly of the days spent drinking with friends in some of London’s finest establishments – then worry no longer, here are some of best ways to enjoy your afternoon tipple from the comfort of your own home. There’s never been a better time to get into whisky – and Milroy’s has you

Over the last few weeks of lockdown, I’ve found myself going through a number of different cooking emotions: normally a form of solace, something I turn to in times of crisis, it has become a little more complicated. I already knew I was privileged to have a well-stocked kitchen, radio 4 burbling away in the

London feels very different from the city it was a few weeks ago. Restaurants are closed, the tubes are empty save for key workers, and Soho is a ghost town. We can’t eat out, or go to bars or pubs; many are struggling to get hold of even basic supplies, like eggs and flour. But

Continuing in the vein of the last couple of weeks of Vintage Chef columns, this week’s recipe is designed to make the most of common ingredients, and give maximum reward for minimum effort with these incredibly simple flatbreads. Last week, I wrote about the joy that baking can bring even in adverse circumstances, how it

In the midst of the greatest threat to individual liberty – not to mention health and livelihood – that most of us have experienced in our lives, it is a sad inevitability that the hospitality industry has taken the first economic hit. What we don’t know at the moment is if this is a recoverable,

Not only are the supermarkets running out of bread, bananas and bog roll, the wine is taking a pounding too. And if you want anything delivered, well, good luck with that. Early May is probably the soonest you’ll get a slot. Let us wine lovers thank heavens, then, that the independents are showing true Blitz

I’ve spent the last few days wondering whether it is frivolous to give you a cake recipe at a time like this. But I’ve finally come to the conclusion that, actually, it’s probably more important than ever. Baking is a source of comfort and joy, both for those doing the baking, and for the recipients,

We live in interesting times. Given the recent government guidance on not leaving the house for unnecessary reasons, the run on supermarkets, the advice to avoid restaurants and pubs, we’re all looking at food preparation rather differently. Whether you are quarantined because you’re symptomatic, self-isolating because you’re vulnerable, or social distancing to protect those who

The coronavirus lockdown means we’re under strict orders from the Prime Minister not to head down to our local for a pint and to avoid social get togethers wherever possible. So why not start a new trend and share a digital drink with your friends? Here’s how to pull it off: 1. Get online Google

I don’t like one-use kitchen gadgets. Well, that’s not true, I do like them actually. I love them. I am drawn to them in those little catalogues that come through the door, brimming with plastic and promise, like a magpie. But my small kitchen doesn’t love them. My overflowing drawers and crowded worktops don’t love

We all have secrets which, when we remember them, shroud us in shame. I’m afraid I have a particularly dark one that I’m forced to remember almost every day of my life. Twenty years ago, I was a working in a big London ad agency with a smart and ambitious young man named Richard Reed.

“Try smoked salmon without the lemon – you might just like it!” says Lance Forman, the fourth generation owner of family salmon smoking business H. Forman & Son. Overlooking the Olympic Stadium, Forman’s smokehouse (cum-deli-cum-restaurant-cum-shiny-disco-palace) is the fishtastic Trump Tower of the East End. “In a restaurant,” continues Forman, “the plate arrives, and people often

Spotted dick is synonymous with school dinners: it’s one of a field of puddings that divide the nation – like rice pudding and jam roly poly – into those who, haunted by sloppy or stodgy memories, cannot countenance the idea of enduring them again, or those who seek them out in a fit of nostalgia.

I’ve been cooking for a little while now: professionally for huge quantities of people for a couple of years, writing about it for the thick end of four, and teaching myself at home for over six. I’ve been to pastry school for an entire full-time academic year. None of this matters to my family: all

Chelsea is a rarefied end of town. The old streets behind Cheyne Walk and around the Physic Garden are some of London’s most charming, while the King’s Road has for a long time been known as the place to be seen. When it comes to restaurants, cheap eats are fewer and further between than other

Islington sprawls. Strung out along Upper Street and the many streets off it, it boasts the best variety of restaurants outside Zone 1 (I am happy to be challenged on this). To secure a table at a decent Upper Street eatery on a Friday night, will require booking ahead or a willingness to queue. Things

Speyside Speyside, north of Aberdeen, is the true heartland of whisky. From Cragganmore, with its complex blends and exclusive clubroom (think roaring fire and lots of antlers) for connoisseur whisky tastings, to Glenlivet, which sits in a remote glen and organises a variety of tours, from classic distillery poke-arounds to luxury samplings. Speyside is also

Turkey curry, as a means of using up festive leftovers, has become something of a joke: the turkey curry buffet in Bridget Jones is the true low point of Bridge’s festive calendar. The prospect can strike fear into the most Christmas-spirited of souls. But actually, on Boxing Day, or the day after, the last thing

Borough Market and the immediate vicinity is one of the best places to shop, eat, drink and socialise in the capital. London Bridge rail and bus station is one of the capital’s key transport hubs. Close to the City (and other businesses), on two key tube lines, and a gateway to both south London and

On the street where I grew up there was an old man who was sweet, friendly… and racist. This was the 1980s: every street had one. Always draped in an overcoat, even when it was tarmac-meltingly hot, he’d march back from the corner shop each morning, tabloid tucked under arm, looking to ensnare one of

When it comes to the ultimate showstopper for an Easter Sunday lunch, it has to be roast lamb: as Spring has now truly sprung, it’s time to start enjoying British reared lamb, and treating it properly when we cook it. My favourite – and, I think, the easiest – way to cook lamb is to

Finally, I almost have my kitchen back. I feel like during Christmas, we give our kitchens over to a higher power: one who insists that we fill our fridges with enough prosecco to see us through a nuclear winter, that everything is spiked with brandy, and followed with a chaser of cheese. We didn’t even

Sometimes I worry that I’m flighty. And not in a charming, no one can tie me down, I’m-a-free-spirit sort of way. But rather skittish, unreliable, inconstant. When I feel that way, I come home and bake spelt bread. Spelt bread is grounding. It is quick, physical work that you have to do with your hands.

The Great British Bake Off (GBBO) is like a steaming spotted dick, moist and dense and delicious, and speckled with dried fruit. Paul Hollywood is the flour. He binds it all together. Mel and Sue are the milk and butter. They’re rich and creamy, and maybe a bit naughty in their comedic charm. Mary Berry?

A few months ago, Nigerian migrants housed at a government hostel in Milan suddenly refused to eat any more of the free food on offer. Italian food is monotonous and indigestable, they explained. Then they went berserk. This was not a one-off case. Far from it. There have been hunger strikes, demos, sit-ins and the