Category: Stories
Catch and Cook Fishing Trip

Catch and Cook Fishing Trip

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At the time of writing this, ‘England’s Seafood FEAST’ is well under way. It is a two week event, running from the 22nd September until the 7th October, celebrating the wonderful array of restaurants, produce, and experiences that Torbay has to offer.  When I looked at the schedule I quickly decided that the one event I had to take part in was the catch and cook fishing trip run by the Cantina Kitchen and Bar in Paignton.  I have been looking for an excuse to go Mackerel fishing for about 3 years. Now was finally the time.

Bad Omens

It’s lucky I’m not superstitious as my journey from Exminster to Paignton would have probably been enough to put most people off going to sea.  An accident on the main road forced me to detour though country lanes and villages, relying on the sat-nav on my phone to steer me through, while also trying desperately to get hold of the bar to let them know I was delayed.  Poor signal and low battery threatened to derail me at any moment.  Queues of cars squeezed past one another as we all inched our way along what we hoped was the lesser of two evils. Each time we came to a halt I peered anxiously at the ETA displayed on the screen, and watched with horror as the meeting time of 5 o’clock became a distant dream.

Upon my arrival in Paignton I ran from the car park to the harbour – desperately hoping that the boat, ‘Our Joe-L’ would still be there. To my horror, as I rounded the corner into the harbour, I spotted the boat just pulling away from the harbour wall. In a last ditch effort, I legged it towards the boat, ready to jump from the wall like a slightly asthmatic, less grumpy Liam Neeson.  Fortunately, no such heroics were required (I do not have a very particular sets of skills). The boat was just picking someone up from the other side of the mouth of the harbour and came back for me moments later.

Quickly getting my breath back, and apologising to everyone for keeping them waiting, I boarded the boat and tried to put the past, profanity filled hour behind me.

Catch and Cook: Out to sea

It didn’t take long.  We were blessed with the perfect evening for a boat ride, with the sun still warm but low in the sky, bathing the sea, coastline and us in a glorious golden glow.  I have always been a fan of autumn, and it is because of days like this one; they feel like a reminder of the summer days that have been and gone, but more valued because of their scarcity.   If we had failed to catch a single fish I don’t think I would have been disappointed.  Fortunately that was not going to be a problem.

I am happy to report that I caught the first fish of the night. This was in no way due to any particular skill on my part however; I was still being shown how to cast the line in when I felt something pull on it. And my fellow fishermen and women quickly got off the mark too.  Shaun, our skipper, was kept very busy helping to unhook fish, but before long everyone was mucking in and helping each other as the fish were reeled in.

Just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the headland we turned for home.  We had caught more fish than we could eat in a week, but none of it was going to waste.  Shaun kept some of the smaller fish to use as bait, but the rest of the catch was strung together and after reaching the harbour we strolled proudly back to the restaurant with our catch.

Dinner

On arrival at Cantina we handed the fish over to the kitchen who busied themselves with prepping dinner.  We had a table reserved for us with a view of the kitchen so we were able to watch them working, while we chatted over a well-deserved drink. One of the highlights for me was the demonstration of how to prepare the fish including gutting and filleting it.  I was given the opportunity to have a go myself and discovered it was actually really simple, and very satisfying to successfully remove the fillets; no more getting the fishmonger to do it for me!

This was followed by a wonderful two course meal that was included in our ticket price.  To start we had a scallop, with pea puree and bacon crumb – a classic combination of flavours that was executed brilliantly: the scallop sweet and succulent, the puree velvety and the bacon crumb providing a little seasoning and a hit of umami flavour.  This was followed by our freshly caught mackerel, served with horseradish mash and Swiss chard. Again the dish was beautifully balanced – the oily fish matched brilliantly with the heat of horseradish.  Undoubtedly this fish tasted all the sweeter for being a part of our own catch, but the skill, care and passion of the chefs was what really made it shine.

When it came time to leave I was genuinely sad to go.  We were looked after in a friendly, informal but diligent way throughout, and felt like we had been not just customers for the evening, but welcomed into the community for a time.  I will definitely be back.

Many thanks to Kate and all her team at Cantina for looking after us and to Shaun for his exceptional fish finding. Also a special thanks to one of my fellow fishers, Tina, who provided many of the pictures above after my phone gave up the ghost!

Links

The boat we fished from, Our Joe-l is available to charter for fishing trips, wildlife observations and more. Click here for more details

Cantina Bar and Kitchen is a gem of a place. Family and dog friendly, the atmosphere is relaxed and informal and the food is excellent.  They organised the catch and cook event as part of ‘England’s seafood FEAST’ but have regular events advertised on their website. They even have their own craft gin, which I will definitely be trying next time I go. Find out more at www.cantinagoodrington.co.uk

There is still lots happenening between now and the 7th October. Find out about the other events that make up ‘England’s seafood FEAST’ by clicking here.

If you are interested in taking part in the Catch and Cook trip, it is running again on the 3rd October and details can be found here
To salt or not to salt?

To salt or not to salt?

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The Great Food and Drink Show

At the weekend I spent a few hours at The Great Food and Drink Show, held at Westpoint , Exeter.  Usually when attending these kinds of events I drag my wife and son with me, meaning that keeping a two year old entertained becomes the priority, and meaning that actually sitting down to watch cooking demonstrations is something of a non-starter. Yesterday however, I struck out on my own so was free to soak everything up at my leisure.

Compared to some other food and drink shows, this was on a slightly smaller scale; however it was actually rather nice to be able to take everything in and not have to elbow my way through crowds to get to each of the exhibitors.  It also meant that it only took me 15 minutes or so to shuffle round and see what took my fancy, before turning my attention to the demo stage.

Jean-Cristophe Novelli

Among the celebrity chefs booked for Sunday’s demos was Jean-Cristophe Novelli.  I must confess I didn’t know a great deal about his career or cooking style though.  I have seen him on TV at various times over the years but never paid close attention to his career.  But Jean-Cristophe’s demo on cooking without salt, and using fat and sugar sparingly has really stuck with me.

I am always rather sceptical about fad diets which is why I enjoyed reading The Angry Chef so much. But what Novelli is suggesting is not a detox diet or fad.  He is showing ways to cook that will help to keep salt, fat and sugar consumption down. He is simply trying to stick to levels that are generally agreed to be healthy.

Too much salt

Of particular concern to Jean-Cristophe is the quantity of salt we all consume.  According to the NHS, the recommended daily intake of salt for an adult is 6g. That is approximately 1 teaspoon.  I can confidently state that I regularly exceed that, and I’m sure I’m not alone. Estimates put the average daily consumption of salt in the UK somewhere between 8-12g.

During his demo he produced two dishes – ratatouille served with seafood and steak with mushroom and blue cheese sauce.  At no point in the cooking of these dishes did he reach for the salt pot.  The ratatouille had about half a dozen olives in it, while the blue cheese brought some saltiness to the mushroom sauce, but the fish and the meat were not seasoned at all.  There was fat present in both dishes – oil was used to dress the fish, double cream used as a base for the mushroom sauce – but none was used to fry any ingredients.  This all felt rather counter-intuitive and yet the food that was produced was divine.  I was sure that the ratatouille would taste insipid without salt, but it was fresh and zingy with herbs and the sharp-sweet flavour of tomato. I was convinced that the steak – completely unseasoned – would be crying out for salt, but the quality of the beef and the addition of the earthy, tangy sauce made for a delicious plate of food.

Of course you may be thinking ‘Yeah, but would it have tasted better with salt added?’ and the answer is yes.  Salt does what it does and would have probably turned the volume up on both these dishes. But these dishes demonstrated that it is perfectly possible to get exceptional flavour without adding excessive quantities of salt.

What now?

So am I about to flush the table salt down the loo in a scene reminiscent of Goodfellas? Do a terribly middle-class good deed and donate my smoked Maldon sea salt to charity? Force salt-piety on friends and family whenever I cook for them?  No.  But I will think a bit more carefully about where and when to use it.  If I am throwing a dinner party – cooking for pleasure – then I will probably ignore a lot of this advice. When I am cooking for my family – for health, sustenance and nourishment – these ideas become a lot more valuable.

I spoke to Jean-Cristophe after the demo and he addressed the conflict between this style of cooking and the food that he has made his name with, going so far as to call himself a traitor.  But he seems to genuinely believe in the message he is promoting. That belief extends to considering whether or not food cooked in this way could ever get Michelin’s attention.  It is hard to see his ideas being adopted by the culinary establishment completely, but with the way we eat changing all the time, and talented, driven proponents like Novelli, perhaps healthy eating and fine dining won’t always be at odds.

Links

If you are tempted to see how a dish can taste without added salt, try making my ragù recipe by following the link below.   I created this dish specifically for feeding a toddler, so deliberately avoided adding salt.

 Pork and Beef Ragù.

If you want to find out more about Jean-Cristhope Novelli’s ideas, he incorporates many of them into the courses at the Novelli Academy.
Forest Fungi

Forest Fungi

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I haven’t always appreciated how lucky I am to live in Devon.  In fact I moved away for over 10 years, adamant I would never return; but when I did, I fell in love with the county in a way I wouldn’t have believed was possible.  One of the things that I really love, as a foodie, is the amazing variety of magnificent produce that can be found right on our doorstep.  It is easy, however, through habit, convenience, or shortness of time and budget, to rely on supermarkets for so much of what we eat.  That is why I have set out to find local producers who are offering products worth spending a little more time and money on.

Forest Fungi are definitely a fitting company to begin my journey with.  I had come across their mushrooms at Dart’s Farm and been really impressed by the variety and freshness of the product, but it was at this year’s Exeter Food Festival that they really caught my attention. In a sea of craft gin and micro-brewed ale their stall held the most enticing array of fungi – a fact not lost on the horde of other shoppers I had to fight through.  I knew that when I launched this blog, I would have to find out more about what they do.

And what a time I chose to get in touch.  This year has seen the business develop new grow space ‘The Shroom Rooms’ that will be open to the public by the time you are reading this, and I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek ahead of the opening, as well as a chance to meet the team behind these magnificent mushrooms.

I was introduced to Dave who was busy cropping in one of the new rooms and he talked me through the new space.  Using an old bungalow that has been gathering dust for many years (I’m told it had a lot of 70s styling still in place), they have stripped out much of the old interior to create a central atrium, with four grow rooms off the main space.  All of these rooms have glass doors so you can see the various mushrooms as they grow. On the walls in both the atrium and the grow rooms are information boards explaining the science behind the life cycle of a mushroom, details about specific varieties of mushroom (including how to use them in the kitchen), and a bit of history about the company.  I won’t go into detail about the boards here – go and have a look for yourself!

The new grow rooms at Forest Fungi

Dave tells me there are currently 9 different varieties they are growing; some will be familiar, like Shiitake and Oyster, while others such as Hen-of-the-woods and Nameko are likely to prove less well known.  I was particularly fascinated by the Nameko mushroom.  It grows with a slimy, gelatinous coating, making it rather unpleasant to eat raw (I was also advised against pickling it – apparently it just gets slimier), but great for use in soups, casseroles and stews, where it will help thicken the soup or sauce and provide a flavour similar to cashew.  This is where opening the grow rooms comes in to its own.  It provides the team at Forest Fungi a wonderful opportunity to educate, encourage and inspire their customers. If I were to simply see these slimy ‘shrooms on a shelf, I would probably walk right by.  Now I am busy pondering recipes I could use them in, confident that I understand how to get the most out of the ingredient.

Pink and Yellow Oyster mushrooms, thriving in their new home

Of course there are details about the business that you won’t find out by reading the signs. But everyone I spoke to was happy to tell me anything I asked about.  For example, Shiitakes continue to be grown in the original grow room.  There are two reasons for this.  Firstly they grow very successfully in that space which is large enough to meet demand (currently).  Secondly, when they are harvested, a reddish brown liquid is released from the substrate on which the mushrooms are grown.  In the old grow room, which does not have the pristine white walls and visitor-friendly glass doors of its newer sibling, this isn’t much of an issue; the mess can be hosed down and washed away. In the new space I’m told, ‘it looked like we had committed several murders.’  You may think that peeking behind the curtain in this way could be off-putting but for me it was exactly the opposite.  Not only did my experience give me a great look at how the mushrooms are grown but also who is growing them.  And what I saw was a group of people who care about and love what they do.

After Dave gave me the tour, I spoke with Scott who founded the company 5 years ago. His passion for the business and for the product is palpable.  At present they supply between 40 and 50 restaurants, but their own farm shop and café remains the biggest customer, in part due to Scott’s determination to maintain control of the quality of the product that is available, and in part due to how successful the shop and café are.  The hope is that the new grow rooms will provide another reason for people to visit the farm and, to my mind, they certainly do that.

During our conversation, Scott spoke about plans for further developments down the line.  There is still some unused space on the site which could be used for additional growing space, or as a way of extending the café.  Having purchased the site this year (they have been renting since 2013), there was a real sense of excitement surrounding what the future of the business could be.  But this is not driven by corporate greed; It is very clear that Scott knows it is the people and the product that have made Forest Fungi a success so far, and he has no intention of losing sight of that.  There is a willingness to adapt the business to best meet challenges and take advantage of opportunities, while maintaining the ethos that the company was founded on and an unflinching position on quality. As Scott put it, ‘There is a concrete plan, but it does change.’

If you have even the slightest interest in mushrooms, I cannot recommend strongly enough that you head down to Dawlish Warren and take a look for yourself.  Even if you don’t, they could probably convert you! The team there are happy to help you choose the right mushroom for whatever you are trying to create if you have a dish in mind, or will suggest recipes you can try.

Follow the links to try their recipes for King Oyster Scallops or Mushroom Risotto (or you could try my recipes: mushrooms on toast and beef and mushroom stir-fry).

The café and farm shop are open year round and offer a great range of products from local producers as well as their mushrooms.  There are also regular stalls at various farmer’s markets and festivals around the county, if Dawlish is a bit out of your way.

The Shroom Rooms will be open for viewing from this weekend (25/08/2018) and entry is free.

King Oyster Scallops and Mushroom Risotto

King Oyster Scallops and Mushroom Risotto

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During my visit to Forest Fungi earlier this week, I had to find out what their recommendations were for mushroom dishes.  Jess was kind enough to share the following two recipes with me.  If you are inspired by these, head on down to their farm shop and café in Dawlish Warren to get hold of the star ingredients, and perhaps get some more ideas from the extensive list of mushroom dishes on the cafe menu.

Also click the link to read all about my visit to Forest Fungi to see the new grow rooms

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REVIEW: Alboka, Mijas, Spain

REVIEW: Alboka, Mijas, Spain

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I have just returned from a family holiday in Spain, and while a trip with three families, five kids under six and only one real foodie (yours truly) doesn’t exactly lend itself to a plethora of quality dining experiences, I was pleasantly surprised by the standard of food we ate. Even the London Inn, which, thanks our middle class snobbery and the presence of a Scot in our group, we initially dismissed out of hand, did an excellent fish and chips which we ate sitting on the beach in the evening sun.  The stand-out meal, however, was courtesy of a restaurant called Alboka.

Situated in the picturesque town of Mijas, up in the mountains overlook the Costa del Sol, Alboka is a fairly unassuming little restaurant nestled between two competitors that, to the untrained eye, appear to be offering variations on a similar theme. I cannot say with any certainty that I would have chosen it if it hadn’t been for a recommendation from our friends who had visited the previous evening.  But to have missed this gem would have been a real tragedy.

As we entered I was struck by two things – firstly, this place was not courting tourist clichés. The décor felt stylish, contemporary and relaxed – a world away from many of the beachfront restaurants in the nearby town of Fuengirola. The second was the size of the kitchen. Through the serving hatch was a space that appeared to be about the size of a match box.  Now, I know there are plenty of great chefs producing wonderful food in small spaces, but I never fail to marvel at the logistics of this – I can barely make toast without turning the kitchen into a bomb site!

Once we were seated and got a look at the menu, I realised we had a problem: We couldn’t possibly eat everything.  Fortunately, many of the dishes were collected under tapas or sharing plate headings, so we did order quite a lot…

As with any tapas menu the dishes simply arrived when they were ready, so we started with a salad of crisp, fresh leaves, beautifully sweet cherry tomatoes, confit mushrooms, boiled quail’s eggs and a light, herby salad dressing.  It was a lovely showcase for great fresh produce, but what really set it apart was a soft, silky-smooth olive-oil ice cream that topped it off.  It was cooling and indulgent with just a hint of sweetness, and unlike anything I was expecting.  It was clear from this opening salvo that this was not going to be tapas as we know it.

The dishes that followed all subscribed to a similar ethos – familiar things, prepared and presented impeccably with a fresh spin on the idea.  Beef croquetas were served with a creamy goat’s cheese based sauce that brought a delightful tang to each rich, unctuous bite.  The same sauce was used to top fried potato wedges in a delicious (and infinitely more interesting) take on patatas bravas.  Two little pork meatballs were gone in a second; spicy and succulent, I could have eaten them by the bucket load. A dish of black pudding served on fried breadcrumbs is something that sounds like hangover food but it was served with casual elegance that elevated the humble ingredients to new heights.

A couple of the dishes took things a step further however. Pork fillet wrapped in ham was served with a spicy, sticky Pedro Ximénez sauce that I am determined to recreate and then have with everything, it was that good. Meanwhile, a plate of octopus with orange, chilli and radish was a work of art – bright, vibrant and modern, it would not have looked out of place in a Michelin-starred dining room.  The combination of flavours worked brilliantly too.  The flavour of the octopus packed a punch while the orange brought sweetness and freshness to the dish.  Lastly the chilli joined the party to give a moreish kick to each mouthful.

We ordered desserts out of pure gluttony – a chocolate fondant and a lemon posset. Both were delicious, crowd pleasing puds – although not quite as exciting as the mains, they were still well made, well presented and very enjoyable to eat.

Throughout the meal, the waiters were attentive and friendly, the service was prompt without ever feeling rushed and the value for money was beyond excellent.  For everything I have described, plus drinks, we paid just over 50 Euros.  If you are planning on heading to the Costa del Sol for your holidays, you should seriously consider making time for a trip to Alboka.  If not, watch this space as I fully intend to reverse engineer the recipes…
Scripts for Supper: Wind in the Willows

Scripts for Supper: Wind in the Willows

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Dinner theatre is something which fills me with equal parts excitement and dread.  Done well it combines two of my favourite things; done badly it leaves a bad taste in the mouth – in every sense. That being said, when I saw that West Town Farm in Ide was hosting Scripts for Supper’s latest performance – a production of Wind in the Willows with dishes inspired by the story, it was an easy decision to go.

Scripts for Supper is the brainchild of former MasterChef contestant Annie Mackenzie and she has taken on the not inconsiderable task of directing the show and devising the menu. Having watched Annie’s progress through the show two years ago I was curious to see what her food would be like but confident that we were in for a good meal.

We had tickets for the final night of the performance – and what a night it was.  We arrived at the farm bathed in glorious, golden sunlight and were greeted with a pre-dinner cocktail which we drank with the sun on our faces while leaning against the warm, red-brick farm buildings.  The cocktail was sharp and refreshing – the perfect accompaniment to a late spring evening.  While guests arrived canapés were served by the kitchen team: a light-as-air tart tatin filled with sticky caramelised onion; a delightful way to get things started.  The meal/performance  began a little later than scheduled but this was bothering no-one – it was the perfect evening for taking your time over things.

Soon though we were led to the dining room. We were greeted with a space that managed to be simultaneously rural and refined.  What is in effect an open sided barn had been filled with two long communal tables covered with green astro-turf tablecloths, tea lights, golden placemats and silverware.  As soon as everyone was seated the performance began, setting the tone for the meal – the actors, out of character, frantically tried to wake the narrator who fallen asleep in a corner of the room.  Throughout the performance, which was punctuated by the various courses, the actors regularly referred to each other by their real names, stopped the action to redo moments because they hadn’t got the right reaction and broke the fourth wall so often and so thoroughly that the remains would make Humpty Dumpty’s injuries seem like a scraped knee.  It was full of anarchic energy but for all the chaos, the story was still clear and the characters were well interpreted.  It was a smart choice to perform the play in this style, as it created a convivial atmosphere among the guests and meant that, in the breaks to serve food, the actors could interact freely with the diners while serving, without worrying about destroying a carefully built illusion.  Not all of the improvisation hit the mark for me, however.  We were there on the last night of the run and with some of the ad-libs it felt like the cast were getting a little carried away. Although momentarily awkward, these did little to mar what was an otherwise extremely enjoyable play.

The performance was only half the story though.  Throughout the play there were four intervals for different courses to be served, the first of which was inspired by Ratty’s rather generously over-packed picnic hamper.  We were treated to a terrine that was delightfully gamey, with sweet, smoky flavours from the bacon that encircled each slice. Studded throughout were pieces of cornichon, which added a very pleasing sharpness as a counterpoint to the rich meat.

Next was a sardine croquette: crisp on the outside, light and fluffy inside. The flavour here was excellent – not overpoweringly fishy, buttery and moreish.  I would have eaten them all night if I could.

The main course was a bubble and squeak risotto topped with a soft-boiled egg rolled in crispy crumbs. The risotto was creamy and satisfying while the egg added some welcome textural variety. Also what dish isn’t enhanced by perfectly runny egg yolk?

To end the meal we were served rhubarb trifles.  If I ever find myself on death row, rhubarb and custard will be strong contenders for a place in my final meal.  So needless to say I enjoyed this dessert immensely. My wife, who also loves rhubarb, sadly is not a fan of booze in a pudding, so I selflessly ate hers too. I would have felt bad about this but was too busy enjoying myself.  The custard was thick and sweet, the fruit soft and tart. The alcohol gave the whole thing a mischievous, grown-up kick. It was the perfect end to the meal and a fitting dish to sum up the evening: sweet, playful and satisfying.

 

At the time of writing, Scripts for Supper’s next project has not been announced but do head to the website, www.scriptsforsupper.co.uk for contact details and to keep an eye on what comes next!

Exeter Festival of South West Food and Drink 2018

Exeter Festival of South West Food and Drink 2018

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So, the festival is in full swing this weekend and well worth a visit.  If you have been before then the set up will be familiar – an ‘if it ain’t broke’ approach has been taken.  There is a fantastic number of food vendors, providing a great variety of disfferent options; there is something to suit everybody’s tastes and then some. The difficulty is deciding what not  to have.

The marquees containing the producer’s stalls are a monument to what a fabulous part of the world we live in.  These tents are full of passionate, skilled, knowledgeable individuals who, in spite of the sweltering heat, are friendly and generous with their time.  The products on offer are magnificent. From handmade chopping boards and artisan bread to craft beers and spirits there was not a thing that I didn’t want to get my grubby little mitts on.

On the demonstration stages the fun continues. I was only able to catch snippets – the downside of having a 2-year-old for company – but the bakers, cooks and chefs were engaging and informative.

If you haven’t been already, get on down there today or tomorrow even if it’s just to sit in the sun, drink beer and watch some live music – you won’t regret it!
New Beginnings

New Beginnings

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Welcome to James on Toast Mark 2.

Having started this blog a couple of years ago, life got busy (New house, wedding, baby) and I stopped writing. All my previous content was created directly in WordPress and unfortunately went down with the ship, so this is a brand new start.

Recently, I attended a wonderful food writing course at All Hallows Farmhouse, run by Karen Barnes, Delicious. Magazine’s editor.  I was looking for some inspiration and guidance on getting the blog back up and running, so if you need someone to blame for the existence of this little corner of the internet, blame Karen!

I will probably write about the course soon (even though writing about a writing course might be a little like a snake eating its own tail) but for now I want to share one of the pieces of writing created during that weekend – It’s not really indicative of the sort of content I will be regularly posting but I am proud of it and it seemed like a good place to start anew. I hope you enjoy it.

Culinary Hopes

My infant son is running riot around the kitchen. He is an accident waiting to happen, a scampering ball of curiosity, untempered  by the fear of consequence. Right now he is an entertainingly cute liability, but as he waves a toy cleaver above his head like a loon and happily clutches part of a plastic kiwi he has ‘cut’ in half, I can’t help but think ahead.  Soon he will be able to join in with cooking for real. Something which, thanks to a mini-kitchen so well appointed I am slightly jealous, he is starting to show an interest in.

I can picture him standing on a chair, stirring cake mix.  Filling tins and scraping bowls and gleefully licking the spatula clean.  I can see him impatiently waiting for the cakes to be cooked, sighing with frustration each time they have to return to the oven for another five minutes.  I can feel his excitement at slicing into the finished cake, still too warm really, but irresistible any longer.

I can imagine teaching a young boy how to flip a pancake and poach an egg and make a roux and 1000 other essential, trivial skills. As the toddler in front of me shoves a plastic chef’s knife into his mouth, I picture myself teaching him how to wield the real thing – him reckless, me nervous, his mother unable to watch.

Clear as day I can see a young man standing at the hob, home to visit, showing his old man how it’s done.  Jokingly issuing orders and lecturing on the virtues of… whatever.

A co-conspirator in kitchen chaos.  A partner in crime.  A kindred spirit.

And perhaps he will be all of these things. Or perhaps he will forge a path entirely of his own. A path paved with ready meals, in search of some other glory.  After all, I was never able to summon up more than polite, lukewarm enthusiasm for my father’s ancient model railway, or obsession with clearing out cupboards.

But as my 18 month old son carefully places a tiny cup underneath his mock espresso machine, waits for the gurgling and frothing sounds to finish, and proudly hands me an entirely imaginary cup of coffee, I can dare to dream.