
With more than half a million people relying on food banks in the UK, the discussion has, of course, ignored the underlying problem of uneven wealth distribution and turned, instead, to the notion of food waste. Continue reading Waste Not

With more than half a million people relying on food banks in the UK, the discussion has, of course, ignored the underlying problem of uneven wealth distribution and turned, instead, to the notion of food waste. Continue reading Waste Not
This is one of those lifesavers that will make you look like an absolute genius and get you out of all kinds of trouble. Continue reading Soda Bread: a loaf in an hour
Over the weekend, I treated myself to a day in the kitchen.
I've always worked unusual shift patterns, which mean I get days off in the week. At least one of those is a cooking day, where I cogitate over a bubbling pot of deliciousness. Those days are gone.
Continue reading A quick way with chicken for a weekday meal.
I love food. I love writing. Why shouldn't the two mix?
Continue reading Return Of The Fodderblog: Cauli Mac And Cheese
There are beer festivals. And then there are beer festivals.
Continue reading Tale of the Ale: X&HT Visited The Robin Hood Beer Festival
In a tiny, ten-seat restaurant tucked into an unprepossessing corner of Tokyo's Ginza Metro station, a man called Jiro is quietly making the best sushi in the world.
Continue reading That Perfect Morsel: X&HT Saw Jiro Dreams Of Sushi
As the cold weather hits, I start to think about autumn food, and tweak my go-to dishes accordingly.
In the unlikely event that I ever make it onto Desert Island Discs, there’s one decision with which I would struggle massively. Not the music – a heady mix of northern soul, chiming indie rock and squelchy electronica. Sod that one book nonsense – I’d be taking a Kindle fully loaded with William Gibson, Ray Bradbury and Kurt Vonnegut.
It would be the luxury item that would give me pause. Although the notion of a fast satellite uplink feeding a hot-rodded MacBook Pro appeals, I think in the end I’d have to plump for a rice cooker.
It would hardly be the most mind-boggling revelation to say that the French love their food. It’s intertwined in the culture, part of the national psyche. The French get food at a pure, primal level. In the UK we’ve come along in leaps and bounds in our understanding and appreciation of good food in the past twenty years. I’d argue that English cheese has the better of la fromage francaise, and there’s no such thing as a decent French pork pie. But food and eating are an intrinsic part of French daily life, and our weekend in Montpellier gave us quite a few different examples of that fact.