The godfather of all New Year's Days

There are some things that are only acceptable on New Year's Day. Having the worst hangover of the whole year just gone. Having absolutely no guilt about not getting dressed. Telling yourself seriously that by this time next year you'll be two stone lighter/ tee-total/ in the perfect relationship/ have quit your job. Oh or watch almost nine hours straight of mafia-classic-epic The Godfather trilogy.

Yes, I'd never seen it, and, well, you could say watching it was one new year's resolutions that it was pretty easy to tick off the list. But if we were going to do it, we were going to do it in style. Italian style. Proper Bolognese, bottle of Chianti (hair of the dog, the only way through) and a huge portion of tiramisu. It was an offer I couldn't refuse.

Authentic Ragù Bolognese
This Delia recipe is almost as epic as The Godfather so best make ahead and make lots, you can freeze the extra (makes about 8 portions)

450g lean minced beef
450g minced pork
around 225g chopped chicken livers
140g chopped pancetta or streaky bacon
6 tbsp olive oil
2 medium onions, finely chopped
4 fat garlic cloves, chopped or crushed
2x 400g tins of chopped tomatoes
2x 200g tubes of tomato puree
half a bottle of red or white wine (Delia suggests red but traditionalists would go white...)
15g packet of basil
1/2 whole nutmeg, grated
And two off-Delia additions:
2 medium carrots, grated
250g packet of mushrooms, grated

First up brown off your minces seperately and add them to your biggest casserole dish (which is not on the heat). Then fry up the garlic and onions, add the pancetta or streaky bacon and cook until the onions soften and the bacon browns and cooks, lastly add the grated carrot and mushroom and continue stirring until cooked (left). Then add this to your casserole dish.

Finally add more oil to the frying pan and fry off the chopped chicken livers (add these even if you think you don't like liver, you can't taste them individually and it adds a secret richness to your bol sauce). Finally add these to your meat medley in the casserole dish (right). Add in your chopped tomatoes and tomato puree, wine and a very healthy seasoning of salt, pepper and grated nutmeg.

Pop this over the heat and bring to a simmer. Now this is where I've got to argue ol' Dels has got it wrong. She suggests putting the mix in the oven uncovered for 4 hours. We've tried this. It dries out. So you could put it in the oven partially covered to reduce. Or you could do it our way and cook it over a low heat on the hob for 4 hours. Yes and you have to keep stirring so it doesn't stick. It is painstaking method but boy is it worth it.




Spaghetti may be the pasta known for bolognese but fatter tagliatelle is far better (and what the Bolognese have with their ragu sauce) as it ropes in the sauce and gives it something to get hooked up on. Fresh egg pasta is best, so flash it in boiling water for a couple of minutes, drain, top with the ragu and a healthy shaving of parmasean, unplug the phone, pour a glass of Chianti, draw the curtains and settle down to a mafia marathon...

The three acts to The Godfather triology are perfectly timed to make the tiramisu between part one and two and for it to be set and ready to sweeten Sofia Coppola's wooden acting in part three.

Jamie does... Best Tiramisu
serves 12
(the Italians might kill him for messing with the classic recipe but this version has a kick of orange zest, richness for chocolate and an added lightness of egg whites through the mascapone)

200g good dark chocolate
50g diced butter
175g sponge fingers
400ml good hot sweetened coffee
Sweet dessert wine (Jamie suggests Vin Santo - however we went for Tia Maria...)
4 large eggs
100g caster sugar
750g mascapone
2 oranges
to garnish some crushed coffee beans, chocolate shavings or cocoa, orange zest

Melt your chocolate in a glass bowl over a pan of simmering water, although make sure it isn't touching the water. Add the diced butter and a pinch of salt and melt and stir to combine.

Line a large deep dish with sponge fingers, then carefully pour over the hot coffee. Add some booze to your melted coffee, stir through and then drizzle over the fingers and spread evenly (in a bit messy style... left).

Seperate the eggs with whites in one bowl and yolks in another. Add sugar to the yolks and if you fancy another swig of booze an whisk with an electric whisk for 5 minutes until everything is mixed and pale and fluffy. Mix in the mascapone and the zest of an orange.

Clean the whisk and whip the whites with a pinch of salt to stiff peaks - using the old turning the bowl upside down trick again. Using a large spoon, add spoonfuls of the white mix to the yolk bowl (right) and fold each through.

Spoon the mix over the chocolate layer and smooth. Garnish with a dusting of coffee and/or cocoa powder (or grated chocolate). Then pop in the fridge to set for two hours and sit down to part two...

Beanz Meanz Heinz

‘You work too hard, you are very tense’

Somehow I don’t think my spa therapist is right right now. I’m lying being scrubbed by sand flown in from St Barts in a treatment room that looks like the VIP room in a flashy nightclub: all low lighting, fibre-optic trim and mirrors, everywhere. Every time I open my eyes I catch sight of my semi-naked sandy flesh. I close my eyes, tight, well I supposed I did get up at 3.15am to meet four journalists I’d never met before and board an ash-free BA flight to Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport. Yes, I was back to Italy. And it was the lure of three Michelin-star dining that got me here.

The Rome Cavalieri is much like the rest of the inhabitants of the city of seven hills: good looking, a bit flash and swaggering with confidence. Oh and like the city itself there are artefacts everywhere. Perched on one of the hills overlooking the Vatican City, it is a church for the worships of beautiful things. Warhol’s, works of Italian masters and Louis XV furniture are crammed in every square inch of lobby, suites and corridors. Everything is superlative: the most expensive spa treatment (it involves a 600 euro pot of platinum), the most impressive views (well it does have one of the seven hills spots) and the best restaurant in Rome. Five week waiting lists (a year for the terrace in summer), a water menu longer than some wine lists and three Michelin stars. It’s the only three Michelin star restaurant in Italy, let alone Rome. According to the guide that means it is ‘worth a special journey’. We’ve made a special journey.

I have to pinch myself. For the second time in as many weeks I’m at the hungry end of a gourmet tasting menu. The previous twenty four hours have been equally surreal: sat on Karl Lagerfeld’s sofa (ok, so he sold it but it’s still his, his bottom has been there), coffee in the palatial apartment of an Italian princess, met a man who makes leather jackets for President Mugabe (in exchange for snakeskins it appears) and took a cracking swing at a polo lesson. I’m living someone else’s life. A very rich Roman’s life.

The restaurant in question, La Pergola, sits in all its opulent glory on the top of the Cavalieri presided over by German Heinz Beck. The neighbouring Penthouse suite, a favourite of George Clooney, Leonardo DiCaprio, Julia Roberts et al (she recently stayed for weeks while filming Eat Pray Love) has a secret back entrance and a pre-reserved private table (for 8,000 euros a night there isn’t a waiting list).

Very serious looking young men scurry about doing a dodging dance as they fluff napkins, swap cutlery and offer me a table for my bag the second it touches the ground. There’s a six course menu, bread appears, butter under a glass dome, the famous water menu (including a Swarovski incrusted number for a whopping 200 euros). One of the young scurriers appears with a trolley dedicated to salt – I opt for the black volcanic one from Hawaii.

Ding ding. Round one – a clam and celery amuse bouche with carrot foam. The carrot foam dissolves the second it touches my lips, it tastes like a carrot breathing into my mouth after a day on the beach. But it works. You knew it was going to work, don’t doubt a master.

Bouche amused, now it was time to really get going: a starter of duck liver terrine with smoked apples almonds and ameretti. Soft, smooth, rich with the kick of smoked apple puree and dusted crust of almonds and ameretti - it ticked every box.

A fresh kick came with the infusion of veal, herbs and Tonka beans with tuna tartare and green tea sorbet. I didn't know it at the time but this was possibly my favourite course, I am a sucker for perfect raw fish, but if the raw fish wasn't enough the little golden nugget of a veal dumpling that was nestling next to it sealed the deal. Plus the cold raw fish/ sorbet v.s hot broth and veal dumpling combo was enough to make my mouth want burst into song.

'Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time, I'm having a ball...' In comes the pasta course, it's Italy it would be criminal to miss it: ricotta tortellini with pecorino and broad beans.

In at four was Cannolo of scampi and vegetables, olive sauce and tapioca with Campari. I know it is three Michelin star but is it wrong to compare them to the best spring rolls you could ever eat? Italian spring rolls if you will...

Into what could now be described as the 'main course' portion of the meal. It was a game of two parts: opening with black cod with marinated anchovy's vinaigrette and sweet chilli pepper. There was a lot of debate as to what our black shard consisted of - it was fine pastry no doubt but charcoal? Was that a hint of liquorice, a nod to things to come?

And after a short interval: liquorice flavoured shoulder of Iberian suckling pig with herbed potatoes. It tasted like it had been griddled on a pan made of liquorice - the lightest hint of flavour was all it took.

After that all the menu said was 'Grand Dessert'. Grand, n. 1. impressive in size, appearance or general effect 2. stately, majestic or dignified 3. highly ambitious or idealistic 4. magnificent or splendid 5. noble or reverved 6. highest, or very high, in rank 7. main or principal 8. of great importance, distinction or pretension 9. complete or comprehensive 10. pretending to grandeur 11. first rate, very good, splendid. It turns out it was pretty much all of them and it was only just beginning...

First out to set the scene: an amuse of coconut ice cream and mango with a shard of burnt sugar. We were into sweet gear. Then came the tower...

Filled with drawer upon drawer on all sides with petit fours. One between two, 12 drawers, three morsels a drawer - 18 petit fours each. Needless to say I didn't manage it (I could barely manage to pick it up), and especially when I was told the Grand Dessert hadn't even begun...

A flurry of tiny plates - they keep coming down in front of me.

Chocolate and coconut soup, liquorice souffle, baked raspberry almost brulee..

And more come flying over my shoulder.

Champagne jelly with strawberries, frozen coffee with coffee cream, whisky ice cream with crushed biscuits and a dark chocolate finger filled with mousse... I could barely think straight as my spoon dipped from each onto the next (or could that be from the dessert wine that was now flowing). It hit the spot - light and rich, warm and cold... every sensation, every texture, it was very very grand. And we were there... the end of the meal. What a meal. And, for a tasting menu, it was refreshingly light. The man himself came round from table to table as we drank our freshly snipped herbal tea.

                              

The secret? 'Chefs who have secrets don't have creativity'. He revealed that he'd studied insulin oscillation, his was 'a light kitchen of Mediterranean flavours' - there was no reason that gourmet food couldn't be good for you. I'll eat to that Heinz.

Dining on Cloud Nine

‘I don’t think I’ve tasted olive oil until this weekend’

Choux Boy’s right. Somehow we find ourselves at the beginning of an eight course tasting menu (well nine we decided it was equivalent to if you counted the olive oil course and petit fours as half a course each) at Castel Monastero in the Tuscan Hills. I’d asked Antonio, the maitre d’, what he’d recommend from the menu. Let me hold it right here and explain something now. Sometimes in my day job I get to go and review 'honeymoon' hotels. Sometimes, I just maaaay make sure these are foodie. And sometimes, just sometimes I hope that we will be offered a tasting menu at one of these stupendously-more-luxurious-than-I-could-ever-afford hotels/restaurants. Well a girl can dream. Dream with her stomach... Don't hate me.

‘Well why don’t we sample? We could do a little of the, ah, salt cod, then, maybe you like to try the polenta, then we maybe do something different each... the saffron risotto with lamb ragout and the veal tortellini...’

Thank you thank you thank you thank you god.

‘... Then do you like fish? How about we do one bream and one meat.’

The Boy had been eyeing up the rabbit confit.

‘Or we could do a main course of the rabbit confit?’

Antonio, this gets better every second.

‘And maybe we could taste some wines together to go with the food?’

Antonio, I think I love you.

But back to the olive oil, we kick off this adventure with the olive oil. Now I’ve always been a fan of the bread and oil and balsamic instead of bread and butter routine (call me pretentious or call me weird) but different types of oil, and olive oil sommeliers? It’s very like tasting wine, we discuss the types of olives, a single olive oil or a blend of olive type, where the olives were grown, the method they were pressed by, the colour, the smell, the taste and the aftertaste. He knows his stuff.

First up a Terre di Siena (a D.O.C) made very near where we were staying and from three types of olive (in the middle of the picture). We were told to look out for the flavours of artichoke and green tomatoes and the distinctly green tinge. Next a Chianti Classico (bottom), made from one type of olive, this was stronger and spicier with the scent and flavour of fresh herbs and a peppery aftertaste. Lastly one called Locanda Rosso (top). This time a blend of two olives which are grown further north by the sea so you could taste the saltiness.

I hadn’t even managed to go 1,2,3 in a lingering fashion before our appetizer arrived: a salad of pecorino cheese, roasted tomatoes, confit duck, olives and pearl barley.

Next up salt cod with a tomato elixir and olive oil foam (though how they get olive oil to ‘foam’ is beyond my culinary imagination) And after a brut rose from Franciacorta to whet our wine appetite, with Antonio’s direction we moved on to a clean, fresh white with the salt cod.

Starters round two and it was potato polenta and ‘pecorino di fossa’ and duck ham. To cut through those hefty flavours, Antonio plumped for a Vernaccia di San Gimignano.

Time for the traditional middle pasta course. This is one of my favourite things about dining in Italy – four courses as standard. I admit, I'm a glutton. And Antonio hasn’t let us down with his selection a creamy saffron risotto, not too light, not to heavy, topped with lamb ragout plus my absolute favourite part of the meal so far: melt in the mouth morsels of veal tortellini served with a smear of creamed cauliflower.

Wine change mark four for the main – and to straddle the needs of my light fish and the Boy’s rich confit rabbit leg we have a light and punchy Brunello di Montalcino 2003. The fresh bream comes with a tomato crumble, fennel and dots of aubergine cream – light and bright flavours that are the perfect complement.

We’re pretty full, but nowhere near defeated in our quest to taste every last bit of Tuscany. Round, where are we now, five, six? Cheese. All pecorino – 18 weeks, 24 weeks and 38 weeks. Served with fig, citrus and red berry jams/chutneys plus white honey. Plus not one but two wines – a sweet from Umbria (Antinori produced Muffato della Sala) and a classic Chianti. I love the tender almost rubbery 18 week cheese. I love all of them. I have to stop myself from eating myself into a cheese coma.

A pause... and then a plate. A sliver of pistachio parfait and a Chinese gooseberry.

Mmmm. But that’s not even dessert. More sweet wine? Yes, please. The real thing is here. For me, a hazelnut tower and pistachio ice cream. Nutty crunchy creamy heaven. The Boy gets three tiny espresso cups housing tiramisu three ways – classic, with cherries and with amoretti biscuits instead of sponge.

We’re done, well, a couple of macchiatos and petit fours? Oh go on then, in for a penny in for the pounds. And after three hours, nine courses and six wines we were done. Thank you Antonio. Thank you.

If you can get yourself there dear reader do say hello to Antonio. Say hello very nicely...

A taster of Tuscany

Nine courses, Chianti, gelato and fast cars. Under Tuscan sun (and rain). Full post to come but for now... tuck in.

A room with a view

A midnight snack

Milling about Siena

Ice, ice baby

Food, glorious food

Pizza: thin, crispy, perfect

The wine list

Beef carpaccio and artichoke

And that's just for starters. Your main course will be out shortly...

The travelling foodie

I'm very lucky that my job takes me to some far-off lands, where usually there is some far-off food to try. Half the joy of travelling for me is the food and wine. The restaurants, the wine tours, the markets, even the supermarkets have new and interesting things to seek out. The food is always greener on the other side.


My most recent trip was to review a hotel in the Costa Blanca. Not exactly a gastronome's heaven you might think but you'd be suprised what you can find. The hotel itself (Barcelo Asia Gardens - all endless infinity pool and lush gardens) was a slightly unbelievable mix of Thailand overlooking Benidorm but with that you got to eat in Spain by lunch and Asia (complete with Indonesian chef) come evening. Plus wine, which if you ever have been to Thailand, you'll know is usually prohibatively expensive what with their luxury tax. The first day we were told by the PR manager to try one of their 'rices' - paella - a local speciality. Unfortunately I was with my mother who is not a seafood kind of woman - the complete opposite of me - but I placated her with the chicken and rabbit 'Valencia' style paella. Goo-y, saffron-y goodness...

Washed down with a bottle of cava, well, we were on holiday.

The Thai, I have to admit, I was skeptical about. Thai food on the Costa Blanca?! But it came up trumps, and was almost as good as I had in Thailand, if a lot less spicy - they went sauce crazy but even the 'spicy' ones (furthest away) barely made my eyes water.

 

Beef and mixed mushrooms was a success.

But my favourite thing about the trip... a trip to Carrefour! Man the Europeans know how to do supermarkets. Goodbye aisles and aisle of ready meals and Pot Noodles, hello fresh hams, whole aisles of olives, cheeses - heaven. Why can't we go beyond the fish counter tucked away at the back of the Sainsbury's? Sigh. I came away with some chorizo, some whole morcilla, some sliced morcilla, olive tapernade, duck paté and two bottles of Rioja... and still managed to stay within Easyjet's luggage allowance.

  

Some other gastro-travels:

Le Couvent d’ Hérépian, Languedoc, France 

Gorgeous baby-boutique hotel in the South of France - take a trip on Saturday to nearby Pézanas for the Saturday food market, and relaxed chic-eat L'Entre Pots (8, avenue Louis Montagne 04.67.90.00.00) and olive oil factory L'Oulibo.

Mushrooms at the market

Fresh fish and local speciality - mussel (tomato-y) tarts

Snails!

At L'Oulibo - amazing oils, olives and tapenades

L'Albereta, Lombardy, Italy

Michelin-starred family-owned spa hotel - who just happen to also own sparkling wine vineyard Bellavista. Visit local restaurant Dispensa Pani e Vini for modern Italian cuisine (I had the most amazing vivid green soup of basil cream and mozzerella juice with cuttlefish ink rice island topped with raw fish. Bizarre but amazing) or classic La Mongolfiera dei Sodi set in a farmhouse (the Boy had what he described as the most incredible veal fillet he ever tasted there. It was just veal, pan fried. That simply good.) Wash down with plenty, plenty Bellavista (my favourite is the Saten made with 100% Chardonnay)

Bellevista vineyard and wine

Vineyards and bottles outside Dispensa