The Importance of Chicken Stock

Evil looking feckers, I say.  Get 'em in the pot!

Chicken Stock


Ingredients:


1 Leftover roast chicken carcass, chopped (or 6 raw chicken wings)
1 Medium carrot, peeled and chopped
1 Small white onion, peeled and chopped
1 Stick of celery, chopped
1 Piece of leek chopped
1/2 Head of garlic
2 Bay leaves
Sprig of thyme
Small bunch of parsley
Small slice of lemon (optional)


Method:


1) Using a ratio of roughly 2-1 one, (water to bones) cover your carcass in a large saucepan with cold water.
2) Bring to the boil and skim any scum that may arise.
3) Add all the other ingredients and simmer for 2-4 hours.  Ensure you are at a very low simmer or 'tick'.
4) Strain slowly and carefully through a fine mesh sieve and cool quickly in a large tray or bowl over ice.
5) Chicken stock will keep up to three days in the fridge.  

Marco Pierre White swimming in Knorr stock cubes.
'Knorr- The best thing that has happened to cooking since me.'
Indeed, guffaw.

Two schools of thought here:
1.  The man has achieved everything possible in his chosen field and inspired generations of young cooks.  He arguably changed the landscape of serious dining and for this we can forgive whatever substandard products are lining the pockets of his descent into aged caricature.  Lord knows he flogs it with style.
2.  In the words of the late, great Bill Hicks- 'The moment you accept money for advertising you start sucking Satan's cock.'   When the products are this bad, and you make your living as a cook, you swallow.
(Thank-you Susyb for the insight.) 

Enfant Terrible no more.

     Chicken stock.  What can I say? So important yet oft ignored, nay shunned by the domestic cook.  Ok, so Marco has condoned stock cubes.  Does that give you the right to toss that left over chicken carcass in the bin after a Sunday feast?  I think not.  A creature dies and we are duty bound to make use of every scrap.  Stock is but a flavoured water that in this case gets its mojo from the connective tissue and cartilage of the chicken bones.  Connective tissue contains collagen which converts to gelatin which in turn thickens and enriches the liquid.
     Chicken stock is the starting point for so much joy.  Firstly, it imparts a fabulous scent whilst simmering that fills your home with warmth and childhood memories.  A throw back to the days of the cave when a bubbling cauldron of bones promised nourishment in a cold season.  
     If you crave simplicity and ease, simply season your stock and add some noodles with fresh herbs of your choice and you have a light and flavourful broth.  Reducing the stock thickens and intensifies the liquid where you can then jazz it up with butter, alcohol and cream what have you for a luxurious sauce.  In a professional kitchen I would use chicken stock as a base flavour to make other meat stocks with the addition of roasted bones and varying aromatics.  And, of course, it is perfect for many soups.

Top Tips:


- Always bring the bones to a simmer first.  It is much easier to skim scum before you add all the vegetal and herby bits.


-Pressure cookers are the way forward.  Contained flavour in a fraction of the time.


-Reducing a stock will intensify the flavour.  So, not to worry if you feel something is lacking.  Crank up the heat and bring that baby down.


-A leek bouquet garni is a nice touch.  Using a length of leek as a sheath, stuff and tie it with the bay leaf, thyme and parsley.  Much easier to remove when finished cooking.


-Fancy a remouillage?  Once your stock is strained, there is still hope for that tired and spent mess in the pot.  Repeating the process will provide a suitable, albeit weakened flavour.  After all, you can always get two cups of tea out of one teabag.


-Ice cube trays.  You can always spot the anorak cook.  He's the guy that has taken the time to cube up all his stocks in the freezer for a rainy day.


-Always use cold water.  If you use hot this may seal the collagen rather than promoting its extraction.


-No salt.  Season later.  If you need to reduce, you could easily end up with a too salty result.


-Do not boil.  A boiled stock is a cloudy one.  Tick it just right and you will end with a near consomme.


-End result too fatty?  Chill it and the fat will solidify on the top for an easy removal.

-The addition of a small slice of lemon is entirely left up to your own discretion/taste.  I am very partial to a hint of citrus and often treat lemon like a seasoning.

Game On

     Far too excited by the start of the season to let go of this one...
Game on!

Common Pheasant, Male/Cock

Game:


     The flesh of wild animals, birds or fish hunted for food or 'sport'.  Where possible always go for the wild option.  Farmed rabbits are a bit of a joke when compared to their wild cousins.  The exception being venison.  There are loads of great farmed venison around that would not be shown up by the wild stuff.  Deer really being an all year thing now, although it still feels like winter fare.  
     The key to success with game is to not overcook and don't get too hung up on hanging.  Nothing is worse to eat, or more of a waste, than a pheasant roasted too long or a mallard breast gone grey, forced to 'well done' by an inexperienced diner or cook.  A pheasant needs only a week hung outside your back door in cool weather.  Don't feel you have to wait until the head is ready to come apart from the body.  This is misguided taste bud bravado.  Devon is full of game, consult your local butcher...or, just befriend that mad looking fellow at the end of the bar that has a bit of a smell to him...
     One thing is for certain, we can't entirely blame the blood thirsty toffs for the waste after a shoot.  Supply and demand is the name of the game.  Eat more of it and they won't have to plough dead birds back into the land.  Personal favourites- (besides pigeon of course) hare & venison.  Wild salmon, trout and zander are equally as epic. 

Not for Canadian consumption

     And what of Canada?  The years fly by and I struggle to clutch at childhood memories... Dad bringing home bear...always fun to be scared by your food before you tuck in.  My Pa and Great Grandpa once trappers...uncles hunting...home made bullets and gun rooms.  Seems my generation just slipped through the net or- family elders were too freakin' lazy to pass the knowledge on.  There always seemed to be elk or moose about in season.  I remember the flavours being strong and the meat generally tough.  Wish I could get my hands on these beasts now and treat them with skill and respect.  Canadian game was probably never presented to me by an experienced hand.  No slow cooking to a tender end or rare tenderloins.  Just well done everything.  And what of grouse?  I remember seeing loads of grouse...don't remember anyone eating it.  So good.  The Scottish stuff can cost 30 or 40 quid a brace.   Some people eat Canadian geese over here...just can't bring myself to sample.  Just wouldn't be kosher of me.

Pheasant: 

from back door to plate.

Cock and hen at peace.

Truly Plucked.

'Moroccan Style Pheasant Salad'
 Raz el Hanout Dusted Breast, Barley 'Cous Cous' & Maddocks Farm Winter Leaves

     Game is great for terrines.  Loads of flavour, lots of trim to be used up and varying colours.  Robust wild animals marry well with fruity, tangy autumn flavours such as blackberries, quince and sloes but to name a few.   I think of terrines of coarse pate as posh meatloaf.  A chefs' favourite due to being economical, visual and quick for service.  Simply slice and serve.  The perfect dish for a 200-cover Saturday night.  I highly recommend every adventurous home cook to give terrines a go.  Once mastered, the possibilities are endless.  Great for dinner parties as you can make them five or six days in advance.  They only get better after a few days as the flavours have a chance to meld.  Interestingly, any concoction layered in a glass is called a 'verrine'.

Local Game Terrine

Rowswell Farm Quince Jelly & Pistachio

Ingredients for 1 terrine:

(I recommend Le Creuset's Volcanic Range mould for quality, style & tradition.)

1kg Game meat to include all or a selection of: 

Breasts of pheasant, pigeon, partridge and/or mallard, saddles & hindquarters of wild rabbit, hare and/or strips of venison loin.   

Reserve offal and soak in milk over night.

350gm Streaky bacon

500gm Pork sausage meat or minced pork

100gm Fresh breadcrumbs

75gm Toasted pistachios

15-20 Dried apricots

8 Crushed juniper berries

3 Cloves minced garlic

3 Slices of lemon

3 Bay leaves

3 Tbsp Flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

3 Eggs

A few sprigs of chopped fresh thyme

Splash of brandy

Splash of port or red wine

Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Method:

1)  Flatten out the bacon with the back of a knife.

2)  Line the terrine mould with overlapping slices of streaky bacon, leaving enough over the sides to cover the top of the terrine.

3) Mince 500gm of the game trims, reserve the breasts and prime cuts for layering the terrine.

4) In a large mixing bowl, combine the sausage meat or minced pork and the minced game.

5) Chop finely the drained offal and add to the mix.

6) Add the breadcrumbs, eggs, parsley, thyme, juniper, garlic, alcohol and season well.

7) Mix thoroughly.

8) Fry off a small morsel to test for seasoning.

9) Season the remaining prime cuts.

10) Line the terrine mould.  Add a layer of forcemeat followed by a layer of game pieces, followed by dried apricots and toasted pistachios.  Repeat this process until the dish is full.

11) Bang the terrine down a few times to help release any air pockets and fold the bacon over the top.

12) Place the thin slices of lemon down the centre of the terrine and top with the bay leaves.  Cover with the lid.

13) Cook at 85-90 degress Celsius for 1.5-2 hours or until you achieve an internal temperature that probes to 65  degrees.

14) Fashion a piece of cardboard the same size as the top of the terrine and cover with tin foil.

15) Remove the lid of the terrine and place the foil fashioned lid on top with a heavy object such as a brick.  Pressing your terrine overnight with ensure perfection.

To serve:

Slice a thick piece, taking care to cut evenly with a sharp, thin bladed knife and serve with quince jelly or any number of fruity, tangy chutneys.  For extra finesse you could toast some pistachios and grind to a powder to cover the edge of the terrine slices.  A big red wine to accompany, port or ale.

Leslie Lee's Quince

     Quince is very abundant around the West Country.  So fragrant and hearty...and oft forgotten.This apple pear is very simple to prepare, (Yet time consuming) as a jelly due to being pectin rich.  Plutarch reported that Greek brides would nibble quince to perfume their kiss before entering the bridal chamber.  It was a quince that Paris awarded Aphrodite.  Ancient and elegant...even if you have no designs to cook them...a bowl left on the table to slowly ripen will fill the house with a subtle perfume.

     I probably haven't finished with this topic yet...mmmm...game.  Any Canucks out there got any good recipes/anecdotes about local fare?  I need to get back to my roots. 

Game Birds

 'Game Birds & Barley'
Wood Pigeon, Pheasant, Partridge & Quail's Eggs with Girolles, Pied de Mouton, Walnuts & Sloe Gin Sauce

     Ok, ok...a mouthful.


     Definitely a more fussy style than my usual rustic approach.  The presentation is modern and deconstructed, yet I am a fan of this sort of dish if everything on the plate compliments each other and there is some semblance of purity to the final execution.  We are coming into serious game bird season and there is more than enough to go around.  The key is not to overcook the little beauties.  Nice and pink or they will go to sawdust in your mouth.  Make good use of the rest of the bird in a confit or stock and those little fillets you removed can be saved for a broth, risotto or salad at a later date.  It is always a laugh to serve a creature with what it may have eaten- barley; and a feisty sloe gin sauce with the last of the season's wild mushrooms rounds off a light and fresh take on some big winter flavours.  
     Of course I love the traditional arrangements of whole roasted birds with bread sauce, game chips, root vegetables...etc.  Yet there is something to be said for the perfect breast coaxed in frothing butter to a sublime and savoury pink morsel.  A sexier foil to the rustic norm.
     Pigeon is my absolute favourite.  Like baby venison.  Doe-eyed Bambi loin on a plate.  So sweet, yet heady with a subtle earthiness.  Another time when I wonder why the hell these aren't in the supermarkets when the U.K. is overrun with them.  Never mind the fact that my fellow Canadians wouldn't even have a bloody clue.  'Pigeons? Ewwww...!'  Sigh.  So out of touch with the land and their own taste buds.  (But more of the Europe/North America flavour divide at a later blog...it's not all bad.)  A couple of pigeon points of note: For all those squeamish Canucks- Passenger pigeons were once the world's most abundant bird.  An estimated 5 billion in North America until we ate them all.  For my Dad- You won't like this one old man...it was the traditional main ingredient in that hallowed family dish- Tourtiere.  In fact, discovering this shock horror has spurred me on to perfect this most classic of Quebecois fare.  Watch this space.

'Seared Pigeon, Foie Gras & Spinach Croute, Blackberry Sauce'

     A note on sloes.  The fabulous prunus spinosa, blackthorn or 'sloe' is an abundant crop round my parts in the autumn.  Carefully pick a kilo or two, freeze for a day and infuse in a jar with double the quantity cheap gin and caster sugar to taste.  Let sit for as long as possible.  The resulting deep crimson liquor I used for this recipe is around two years old.  The longer kept the better.
     An afterthought on microherbs and leaves- use them wisely.  Think about the flavours and apply them sparingly.  A mound of shiso cress on top of a mushroom risotto does not work.  Chefs are going overboard with these dainty yet powerful trendy additions. 

'Eat me...please.  There are ten million of us in the U.K. alone.'

The recipe:

Game Birds & Barley

Ingredients for 4 main courses:

450ml Strong beef stock (Or a tin of consomme in a pinch)

250ml Sloe gin

150gm Barley

2tbsp Finely chopped flat leaf parsley

1 Tomato, blanched, skinned, de-seeded and finely diced (concasse)

1/2tsp Lemon juice

1-2tbsp Rapeseed or extra virgin olive oil

Seasoning

6 Quails' eggs

16-20 Walnut halves

2 Pheasant breasts, fillets removed

2 Pigeon breasts, fillets removed

2 Partridge breasts, fillets removed

Sunflower oil

100gm Unsalted butter

12 Girolles or pied de mouton mushrooms

Micro leaves to garnish such as radish or red chard (Now grown in Devon!) 

Method:

1) In large saucepan combine the beef stock and sloe gin.  Bring to the boil and reduce until somewhat thickened, down to about 150ml.  Take care not to over-reduce to marmite!  Reserve.

1) Bring the barley to a simmer in a large saucepan and cook for 45-60 minutes until just cooked.

2) Drain and cool spread out on a tray.  Place in a bowl and mix in the parsley, tomato concasse, lemon juice, rapeseed oil and seasoning to taste.  Set aside.

3) Fill a bowl with ice water.  Bring a medium pan of water to the boil and carefully submerge the quails eggs for 3 minutes.  Straight into the ice water for 10 minutes     before peeling and slicing in half.

4) In a 200 degree Celsius pre-heated oven, toast the walnut halves until golden.  Let cool somewhat and rub off the papery filament. 

4) Lightly oil the skin sides of the game bird breasts and season well.  Pre-heat a large non stick pan to high.  Place the breasts skin down and fry until golden. 

5) Reduce the heat and add the butter, turning the breasts and basting all the while.  3 minutes for the pigeon and partridge, 8-10 for the pheasant.  Rest on kitchen towel.

6) Reserve the excess juices and butter from the frying pan in a small bowl and keep warm.

7) Using the same pan without cleaning, crank up the heat and drop in the mushrooms.  Fry on a high heat,      adding a knob of butter and seasoning, for 4-5 minutes.  Keep warm.

8) Heat the sloe gin sauce and mount a la minute with a wee knob of butter.  

To serve:

On large dinner plates, randomly mound seven tablespoons of barley on each.  Using a sharp, thin bladed knife slice the pheasant breasts into six and the remaining breasts into four.  Place each slice onto a mound of barley.  Dot artfully the walnut halves, mushrooms and quail's egg halves.  Drizzle the sloe gin sauce and pan juices over the plates and flourish with micro leaves.  

I recommend staying on the sloe gin for this one- just add a little soda.

Parting Shot:

A note for all the posh Brit hunters this season-

'Kill no more pigeons than you can eat'.

-Benjamin Franklin

Foie Gras or Fight!

     Firstly, for those of you that are unsure: Foie gras (French for "fat liver") is a food product made of the liver of a duck or goose that has been specially fattened. This fattening is typically achieved through gavage (force-feeding) corn, according to French law, though outside of France it is occasionally produced using natural feeding.


So, allow me to lob my own missile into this hard drawn battle...this foie gras war.


   
     So foie gras is the new fur, eh?  Everyone is calling each other a liar in this bitter dispute over an ancient delicacy.  On the one hand is the industry.  It is vast, and of course has vested interests.  You can never blindly trust any biased corporation related propaganda.  There is no escaping the fact that gavage is, even during the most humane of productions...not entirely attractive.  On the other hand are the activists.  They attack with religious fervour bolstered by some members' politicized hidden agendas that boil down to a deep loathing of us carnivores and our flesh eating.  Foie gras is easily the 'weakest link' of targets especially when one knows nothing of the history, production or flavour- and is presented with brutal scare tactics.
  The debate on foie gras has heated up and The Terminator himself has passed a bill which eradicates all Californian foie gras production by 2012.  Under immense pressure from his own Hollywood flock, Schwarzenwhatevah has decided to wield his power to control what the rest of Californians can and cannot eat.  (What about fast food?)  The gilded cages of Sir Paul McCartney, Kim Basinger and Roger Moore etc. have opened up just long enough for them to come down to tell us all how 'immoral' we are in our consumption of this delicacy.  As usual the success of special interest groups rarely reflects that of the silent majority's stance or apathy, as is often the case.  I don't want to come off as a grease-splattered, mad-eyed chef waving his cleaver in the confines of his own kingdom (kitchen) giving a two fingered salute to a bunch of amoeba nurturing vegans, but....come on, where does all this end?  Certainly anyone that knows me is aware of my passionate dedication to locally produced, seasonal and often wild product free from chemicals and ill treatment.  I whole heartedly believe that animals should be cared for as much as possible to ensure they aren't caused any grief that would toughen up their little carcasses before I get to work on them.  The same rule applies to the foie gras I purchase.  I don't want poor quality, bruised and bile speckled lobes.  I buy only grade 'A' foie gras from a supplier that free-range their ducks until the last ten days when they do receive that unattractive yet 'means to an ends' twice a day force-feeding.  I have seen the horror movies on the animal rights websites.  It is easy to find bad practise in any industry.  I loathe this sort of production the same way I despise imprisoned, steroid plumped battery hens.  The technique employed in quality foie gras production is carefully time controlled.  Stress greatly affects the flavour and look of the lobes, hence reputable producers take great pains to eradicate as much discomfort as possible under the circumstances.  
     The act of foie gras is an exploitation of a process that ducks and geese perform naturally, that is to over feed for the migration period.  It really disturbs me when I hear certain people comparing the duck or any other animal for that matter to us humans.  That is a duck.  An animal without a gag reflex I might add, hence the force feeding does not choke them as many would like you to believe.  The very lining of a duck's throat is keratinized.  This means it is composed of a fibrous combination of protein cells that resemble bristles or fingernails, allowing large, coarse pieces of food to pass safely.  The technique and tradition of creating foie gras reaches back to Egyptian times and thank God for the bloody French that managed to thwart the ever-frustrating EU machine into allowing them to continue their 30,000 employee industry under 'heritage grounds'.  Vive la France, Vive le foie gras!

'The Foie Gras Wars'  A superb and well-balanced read on the subject.

'Tarte Tatin au foie gras, creme fraiche estragon'

I weep at the modern trend of taking advice from celebrities.  The brain drain is truly under way.
                                             

     Lastly, I see foie gras as a treat to be delighted in a few times a year.  It is too rich and too expensive to be a weekly food stuff.  Foie gras has pride of place on many chefs' menus for good reason.  It isn't just the incredibly wonderful flavour or the velvet texture.  It is fab to work with.  Very malleable and pairs well with so many other elements.  If you don't like the idea- fine.  If you don't like the flavour- fine.  But please, I implore you...let us chefs continue to play with one of our most treasured and delicious ingredients.

Dartmouth

     A welcome break down Dartmouth way.  What a great place.  Always nice to dip in and see how the other twentieth live.  Shazz, Dill and I stayed at the warm and welcome Brown's Hotel, (www.brownshoteldartmouth.co.uk)  where great food was had in just the right surroundings.  The best sirloin steak I have had in ages, home made taramasalata, serrano ham, well priced vino and great calamari fritti to name a few of the table side highlights.  Big thanks to old friend, manager Robin Tozer.

     Dartmouth has so much to offer a food lover.  Of course it has been well known for JBR...thank Christ he has finally disappeared.  The most hated man in the culinary world.  I had a megabucks crap meal there years ago.  But enough chef bashing.  Just stay away from most one starred joints!  Ok, ok...we'll discuss all that some other time.  Places not to be missed- The Seahorse, (Superbly simple fine dining from Mitch Tonks.  Had a memorable evening there years ago at- 'An evening with Fergus Henderson.'  Of course Hix was in attendance and the booze made it all blurry towards the end.) Saveur Bakery, Rockfish, Anzac Bistro, countless stylish and inviting coffee shops...we'll explore more next time down.  It is no secret I am a fan of a more rustic, real cuisine.  The older I get the less I wanna play with my food, man.  So we hit Rockfish for an early lunch.  The wife and I are serious novices at the whole dining out with baby thing so it was with some trepidation that we clambered up into the the narrow corridor of this most posh of chippies.  We needn't have worried.  Warm staff sorted it all out for us and Dill was fast asleep anyhoo.  A big thanks to the manageress that clocked and comped two terrible bellinis, (Well...I wanted to see if a chippie could handle it.)  The food was spot on if a little pricey for certain items.  The only complaint being that the chips were a bit fusty.  Possibly they were cut in water too long pre frying?  Lashings of vinegar and salt nearly solved the problem.  I just love the whole concept of the place.  A child friendly yet posh and stylish chippie.  Tonks, yer a genius and this one is gonna go all the way to the bank.  Location, location, location.

     A note to the chef on duty:  We actually had to leave because I just couldn't take it anymore!  It was like watching Gordan Ramsay doing an episode of Kitchen Nightmares at Fawlty Towers.  I really wanted to dive in there and help you, man.  I mean, how dare the EHO take over your kitchen and extract you from a full restaurant lunch service.  Two young pups that must have just got their certs, all gung ho and out to save the world from nothing at all.  First of all, I have never seen two go in before.  One standing there at your pass like a plank, the other a complete spanner in the works of your service.  Shazz had to firmly tell me that I absolutely could not go and tell them to piss out of chef's way.  They wouldn't have got in my kitchen at that time of day, old boy.  Anyway, rant over.  No, I do not have any problem with the EHO...but there is a time and a place.  www.seahorserestaurant.co.uk  www.rockfishgrill.co.uk

Brutish Boletus

Hello...is there anybody out there?

       Once again I headed off blind-folded by my long standing yet cautious Breton friend/forager extraordinaire, M. Kilda Giraudon.  His protective nature over hidden mushroom patches knows no bounds and is a little unfounded as so few of you Brits can be found basket in hand, forest bound.  So, if anyone observed a passive passenger in a small French car careening about the South Devon lanes chatting away happily to his 'captor' check the calendar...it was mushroom season.
  Now tis the end of mushrooms.  As soon as the first frost hits, that is usually the end.  What a great harvest.  Ceps everywhere!  Ok, ok, so the majority weren't true porcini but lesser cousins...still a great haul, free and tasty.  Also spotted and eaten- parasol, pied de mouton, girolles, and a good few field mushrooms.  I really want to find puffballs.  Not sure if there are any down this way but they are prolific in other parts of the UK.

     The cep is a king amongst mushrooms second only to the divine truffle.  Attractive, earthy and meaty they lend themselves well to any number of dishes from soup to risotto.  I love them simply sauteed in a little butter, garlic and parsley and served on grilled bread.  Once dried, the sublime cep transcends its fresh state and becomes a heady additive that can be used almost as a stock cube for bolognese or any preparation where you desire a beefy kick.  We harvested so many this season that I pickled a couple kilo to great effect.  Simply boil them up for two minutes in a little white wine vinegar, white wine and water to cover, drain well and pour into a sterilized canning jar.  Top with a flavoured rapeseed or olive oil.  I infused mine with a hint of garlic, bay and thyme.  Let sit for a few weeks in a cool dark place before popping.  Great for an antipasto or through pasta etc.  
     Remember, wild mushroom picking is a healthy mix of knowledge and skill.  Do not put anything into your mouth from the forest floor without possessing the former.  The latter comes with years of practise.  I am confident to go picking on my own, but it is difficult to spot the camouflaged little blighters.  The real skill comes from M. Giraudon...he can spot a 2 centimetre girolle peeking above a bed of autumn leaves at 100 yards.
     Top tip:  If there are loads of fly agaric around...good chance ceps are nearby.

Chefs & Blogs

     Ok, so here goes.  I have entered the ether and what can I possibly say?  My views on blogs, blogging and bloggers, (blogeurs?) has been low to nil to say the least.  A slight tacky sensation would film the roof of my mouth in a similar manner to some over reduced veal glace when confronted with this new fangled 'tinternet' thingy.  Heaven forbid I come across like Julie...heaven forbid I get stuck to my computer rather than a stove...heaven forbid I start caring whether anyone is reading this.  Regardless, here I am.  First and foremost I am a chef, (more on that later) increasingly I am a food photographer and food writer.  For many years I have had a regular feature in Exeter Living and Salisbury Life magazines.  I have had free reign and no editing from a great guy who has moved on.  New editor, new rules.  I am sure this is for the best, for as you will find out...I do go on.  This change of the guard has been my spur.  At the mere whiff of a cursory curtailment I demand an unfiltered forum to spill my guts about spilling guts or wherever else my food journey may take me.  I look forward to banking an archive of all my anorak-ish thoughts on food and the people and places that get my chef's blood pumping.  Off to pick some ceps.

Everything for a reason, everything in season.

Chris