Today I made hash for lunch. I just needed to use up the potatoes and the deli meats left over from Christmas. I hadn’t thought about hash in a long time. Not so a few years back.

This restaurant seemed all about hash. Best seller at brunch and lunch. The prep was never ending. It was hash prep that resulted in me getting a bollocking for being ill. I was ill. Too ill to be in work. It was acknowledged that I was ill and still I was shouted at for cutting the chorizo too slowly. I defended myself. Of course I was working slowly I felt really ill. I was told not to answer back. Just like a child. I was a woman in my early 30s at the time. In a place of work.

“Don’t answer back”

Everyone says that kitchens are better now than they used to be and of course that is the truth. Maybe though the bad old days are not as old as I think.

The hash was delicious though. I roasted the potatoes with paprika and oregano. I fried the bacon, the salami, the chorizo until it was beautiful and crisp. The eggs were fresh, organic. Blissfully golden yolks. Just a little hot sauce. It was comforting after the cold morning. It took me no time at all to cut the chorizo.

Princes bakery in Pontypridd used to sell chicken curry pies. They were delicious. So delicious in fact I thought they must be something you get everywhere. T had never heard of curry pie. I needed to rectify this. We’re trying to eat less meat this year. So

Vegetable Curry Pie

1 Onion

1 Large Carrot

1 Parsnip

1 Sweet Potato

5 Chestnut Mushrooms

1 Red Chilli

4 Cloves of Garlic

1 Thumb sized piece Ginger

1 tsp each Garam Massalla, Turmeric, Coriander

1 Tin Coconut Milk

Salt and Pepper to Taste

1 tsp Honey if you want a sweeter curry

Shortcrust Pastry ( shop bought or home made)

Roughly chop the onion, carrot, parsnip, sweet potato and mushrooms and sweat in olive oil with the curry spices and a good bit of seasoning.

Blitz up the chilli, garlic and ginger with some coarse salt and olive oil to make a rough paste.

Add into the pan and cook out.

Add a good splash of boiling water and simmer until the vegetables are tender. Add the coconut milk and cook out until you have a thick sauce and all the flavours have mingled.

Leave the curry to cool and roll out the pastry. Line a pie dish and add in the filling. Egg wash the pastry so the lid can stick. Put on a pastry lid. Press all around with a fork. Use the pastry trim to decorate if you like. Egg wash the top.

Bake on 170 for approximately 40 minutes.

Curry Pie. Its a thing!

Is a thing that people say occasionally round my way. If something is top Jonny banana it means its really good.

I use it a lot in the kitchen. Never hurts to be proud of your work right?

M grew up in Slovakia. Its a long way from Pontypridd. M asked me one day “Becky, who is Jonny Banana?” We laughed as I explained.

From then on Jonny Banana became the mythical villain of the hotel kitchen. A formidable chef who would frighten the young commis chefs into behaving themselves.

“If those raviolis leak I’ll have to send for Jonny Banana “

“Don’t you burn those onions or Jonny Banana will be down on you”

There’s nothing like a bit of silliness to get you through the shift.

You know the kind of grey miserable day that January in the UK specialises in. I’d been feeling pretty low since we got back from Brighton. I was in need of comfort and what could be more comforting than a bowl of hot, slightly spicy, satisfying meatball soup.

With flatbreads.

Flatbread Dough

250g Strong White Flour

5g Salt

5g fresh or 1/2 sachet dried Yeast

1 tsp Honey

2tbsp Olive Oil

150ml Warm Water

Meatballs

500g Lamb Mince

Pinch dried Cinnamon & Ras el Hanout

Salt and pepper

Soup Base

1 Onion

1 Red Pepper

1 Red Chilli

Some Garlic ( I’m not going to tell you how much, measure that with your heart)

200 ml White Wine

500ml Chicken Stock

500ml Passatta

Smoked paprika, oregano, salt and pepper to taste.

You also may want a teaspoon of sugar or honey depending on how acidic the tomatoes are.

First make the flat bread dough. Mix all the ingredients together until you have a pliable dough. Knead for 10 minutes either by hand or by machine. Put in an oiled bowl and cover with a wet tea towel. Leave in a warm area to prove for 30 minutes. The dough should about double in size.

Meanwhile dice up the onion and the red pepper. Gently fry in olive oil in a pan big enough for the soup. Season with salt, pepper and smoked paprika. Add in the chilli and lastly the garlic.

Whilst the vegetables are cooking make the meatballs. Mix the lamb together with the spices and seasoning until thoroughly combined. I find it easiest to use my hands. Roll into small balls and bake in the oven 180o or gas mark 4 for 8 -10 minutes. Once the meatballs are out put a pan of water into the bottom of the oven. This is to bake the flatbreads.

Once the vegetables are soft and the spice is cooked out add in the white wine and reduce by half. Add in the chicken stock, the passatta and the meatballs and let the soup simmer. Add in the oregano or any other herbs if preferred. For a heartier soup add in a tin of chickpeas too.

The bread should be proved now. Knock it back. Flour your work surface and your rolling pin and roll out the dough until it is about 1cm thick. Cut into strips. I do mine quite rustic. Put onto a lined baking tray and leave to prove for another 20 minutes. Score the tops gently with a knife and sprinkle the tops with zaatar or any other seeds or herbs you prefer. Bake in the now steamy oven for around 15 minutes. Serve warm with the hot soup.

It should sooth the most troubled of souls. Enjoy!

If you are here expecting an article on the antioxidant benefits of organic dark chocolate then I have to say sorry right now. This is not the article for you.

You see I have always thought there are other ways food can be good for you. There’s the pride and satisfaction of crafting it. There’s the companionship in sharing it. There’s the pleasure you can find in the act of eating it. Taste and texture can and frequently do equal happiness.

It was at the end of last year and during an eerily quiet festive period at the hotel that I decided my chocolate skills were woefully lacking. So with time on my hands I set out to practice.

R had been off work with some mental health problems. I was very happy when they were able to come back to work. They weren’t quite themselves but certainly on the mend.

We made truffles that night. We laughed as we got covered in ganache. Too warm. Too warm. Back in the freezer quick. Too cold. Quick under the lights. Finally they were all rolled. An arduous task but one well done.

Now to coat and decorate. We had trouble in the dipping. How to take them out of the chocolate? How to put them onto the tray without spoiling them?

The good old holey spoon was pressed into service. Spear the chocolate with a cocktail stick. Dip. Put the stick with the chocolate on it through the last hole. Gently pull out the stick leaving the truffle on the end of the spoon and use the stick to gently edge it onto the tray.

Holey spoon 5000 (patent pending)

We were proud of our invention. We made a video. We decorated them. We congratulated ourselves. We smiled as we ate far more than were strictly necessary for quality control.

I told you. Chocolate. Its good for you!

Me and T have come down to Brighton for the weekend! We’re heading out soon to do the tourist thing but first breakfast.

I think the main thing I love about hotel breakfast is that I don’t have to make it. Don’t get me wrong I used to enjoy doing breakfast shifts. Once I’m up on my feet I am full of the joys.

There is something wholesome about breakfast. Something that gives me as both a chef and a guest a simple sense of joy. I mean what is it? Essentially eggs bread and various bits of pig (in the Uk anyway.)

I was back at the hotel. We were shutting down the kitchen on boxing day the third lockdown being imminent. We were shutting down the kitchen after breakfast service. I was pretty depressed about everything.

Until. I heard about the night porters. We had two at the hotel M and B. It was M’s night to work. B came to the hotel after his shift so they could have breakfast together. It was a Christmas tradition.

It was the most basic of breakfast checks.

2 Full, FE, White

Translation two full English with fried egg and white toast.

I smiled through the rest of the shift. It’s the sometimes the smallest things that bring us joy.

I’m missing the sun so

To The Wind in the Heat

It is lazy the wind,

In the heat of the city.

Too tired today to fetch the sea.

Instead it brings the spice factory.

Forgive me, it whispers.

At least I am still generous

I close my eyes.

And I smile my thank you.

The Anatomy of My Brain

I look at the anatomy of the brain,

With a certain amount of envy

Oh how I wish…

My brain is made of bees

They have busy little lives

Don’t stay inside their grey matter hives

Things That Distract the Bees

Including, But not limited to

The trees, the leaves, the breeze my knees.

Hogs, bogs, logs, Jacob Rees Mogg

All the rest of his bastard chums, Don’t get me started.

Dogs. Always Dogs.

Once a frog

He was just there in my bag of compost,

I wondered why it was moving.

The flowers, the powers, the hours.

Flour. Seriously never use all chestnut.

The heroes, the villains, the princes, the paupers.

The numbers, the colours, the letters.

The b s the e s the c s and the d s.

All the notes really.

They like music, the bees.

It is a sweet melody. The song of the rainbow.

It is one the bees will always sing.

It is only when the rain.

Falls in my brain.

That they start to sting.

I made bolognese for dinner last night. I always find making bolognese soothing. I think it is because the only time I have ever made bolognese at work is for staff food. I used to find great joy in making staff food taking food that was sub par, older burgers, fillet trim, under sized fish and such and making it into a meal that all my friends could enjoy.

Anyway no staff food for the time being and I never make it now anyway. The sense of serenity I get from bolognese at home comes from ritual. The same steps. In the same order. The same pan. The wonderful comfort of familiarity.

It is always the same. Chop an onion (I use the food processor I’m a lazy cook at home. Sweat it in the pan. In with the mushrooms. Cut the bacon. Add it in. Add the mince. The satisfaction as it turns from pink to grey and then to brown. Add in the garlic. Next the tomato puree. Oregano and half a bottle of red wine. Reduce, simmer. Add the Oxo and a tin of tomatoes. Bubble away. Such a simple staple. Always had been the same. Always will be the same. It doesn’t go wrong. It doesn’t make my brain go wrong. Not just comfort food but comfort cooking.

T makes the spaghetti. I don’t know if he uses sorcery or science or maybe some of each. But he can make the right amount. So satisfying. Leftovers for lunch!

It is actually my physical health that is bothering me right now. I went back to work before Christmas having been signed off with a particularly bad bout of anxiety. I was back four days before I caught covid. I wasn’t as bad as I could have been with it (thank you thank you thank you vaccinations) but I was in bed for five days. I went back to work before I should have and was subsequently sent home. I am still quite a fair way from feeling myself. I get tired easily. I am still coughing. I am physically weak and I am always cold.

I am lucky in a way that work is closed now for a refurb. I am getting a little better each day but also a little more frustrated. I am definitely not a patient patient. I try to be philosophical about it. I can take this time to heal and keep working on my mental health. At the same time I worry a lot about it. It is almost paradoxical. Ill and off work so have time to work on myself. Ill and off work so going into a worry spiral which makes it hard to have the energy to work on myself.

I am rather tired now just from typing at my desk. What fun.

I am used to my brain letting me down. Anxiety most of your adult life will do that. But come on body, I expect better from you!