Crew food on a trans-Atlantic voyage. This one is a more of an industry-specific post aimed at my fellow chefs at sea and anyone out there considering becoming one, but it is, I think, an interesting glimpse behind scenes too. It is essentially about provisioning and cooking in less than perfect conditions. Or, in my case, it’s about making sure you have all you need to keep a dozen people well-fed for two (often very long) weeks at sea.
I am jumping on the Polar Express and following everyone else out there with a Christmas Wish List of my own. If you are a cutting-it-close kind of person when it comes to Christmas shopping and if you are looking for some great gifts for a chef, cook, or a foodie loved one in your life, look no further.
I love making risotto, my wife loves making risotto. My kids, thankfully, love eating risotto. Don’t be afraid of risotto. All that is required is a little bit of prep and an averagely strong arm ready to stir for approximately 18 minutes, but the result is something very, very special. It’s a melt-in-your-mouth kind of dish that can be a super sexy, impress your date kind of thing, or a family friendly school-night offering.
I am all for Whole Foods when in North America or the UK, but when in France you can’t beat a fresh fruit and veg market. The quality of produce is superior, but more than that, it’s the atmosphere, the good and the grumpy, the smells and the sounds. I love it all. Because of my job I spend a lot of time in markets, but you’ll probably find me in one of the below-mentioned markets at least once or twice a week even when I am not working.
It’s one of those things. You live in an area and you keep putting off exploring certain parts of it because, well, you live there and there will be plenty of time to explore later. There were these buildings between Nice and Antibes that caught my eye early on. I mean, they are hard to miss. They look like a broken up Roman amphitheatre. They are massive. You can see them as you land at the Nice. You can see them if you from the beaches in Antibes. You sort of wonder what they are and then you move on and forget about it. At least if you are like me.
This is a bit of a left-field post, I know. I am filing it under Travel, which I guess is appropriate enough. I am British, my wife is (born-in-the-ex-Yugoslavia) Canadian, and we live in France. With Brexit looming large and expat status in doubt all over Europe, my beautiful wife thought it would be a good idea for me to go along to the prefecture in Nice and try to get myself a carte de sejour.