She's delicious, she's delightful - Scarlett cooks lunch Southern style



Main course

  

Pudding

Yes, I know.  All this and not a mint julep in sight.  It is, of course, South as in Peckham, and the gorgeous and delightful Scarlett of Peckham Rye Eats.  I'm sure she's right.  I'm sure the people of Peckham Rye do eat - I know I did.  It was so delicious.  I haven't even got as far as the prawns yet.  But before we go there, let's have some pussy. 

Misty

Yes, this is the minx of the eponymous Martini.  It's Misty.  If there were an owl, she'd definitely be the pussycat.  Speaking of Martinis, [I have to do this otherwise I'd just ramble on and on about how beautiful, and furry, and feisty Misty is, what a distinctive personality she has, how she loves to play - enough already].

Quite.  Speaking of Martinis.  I was given a very big good book which turned out not to be the Bible, but a bible of sorts.  It was Difford's Guide Cocktails #9.  On their website, it is described as "widely regarded by... the drinks industry as the most complete and authoritative cocktail publication available".  I see no reason to disagree with them and nor does Scarlett and she's the woman with the cocktail shaker and jiggers so I bow before her.

I would, of course, literally bow before her, but I'm not given the opportunity to do that because in the spirit of Martini Mezze I'm limited to three.  It's best that way, really it is.  And I was the lucky guest so I got to choose.  First up...



Dry Orange Martini

Really, very delicious, smooth, clean, a citrus taste from the Cointreau - it even led me to do a little snippet from the famous '70s advertisement.  Remember this?  A classic ad, and so was the Martini. It was time for a little kitchen break.  Scarlett is wonderful but not even she can produce a three course lunch through the power of telepathic projection into the kitchen.  Oh no, there's an awful lot of effort that goes into...

preparation, including toasting...

slicing...

and generally sorting out.

as well as steaming and simmering.

Rice on the left, Ghormeh Sabzi on right

Not to mention sautéeing...

And here's another one of the prawns, languishing in the pan, exhausted after being turned about and about like that. 

Just because I love prawns

Look how beautifully they've been butterflied.  They were all set for...

I know, I know, you're champing at the bit (of crustacean you've just been treated to a sight of).  But before we got to that, I had to force myself to drink some more gorgeous cocktails.

There was the Cuban Island, white rum, vodka, Cointreau.  Oh, Scarlett, you're spoiling me!  Sorry, that's not Cointreau, that's Ferrero Rocher.  Then it was the last, and to my taste, the best of the three.  Oh Gosh!  Not me after two cocktails. 

Oh Gosh!

I like sours, really, that's my thing.  And this was utterly delicious (white rum, Cointreau, a smidge of sugar syrup, and lots of lime juice), not to say potentially dangerous.  I could drink quite a few of these.  Correction, I believe I could drink quite a few of these.  I'm sure I could.  But if I did, I'd be no good for anything else and certainly not for...

Tiger prawns with sliced radish and lovely herbs.  This was from Silvena Rowe's Purple Citrus and Sweet Perfume.  Minus the red onion.  It was light, flavoursome, crammed full of herby goodness, with a lovely crunch from the sliced radishes.

What a great prawn.  There were three of them, and they were all wonderful.  Perfectly cooked, tender and yielding.

Prawns, crustacea, fruits de mer, cats.  Yes, it's time for another kitty break.

You might find this difficult to believe but whilst Scarlett's food is (like that of my Wiltshire friends) endlessly photogenic, Misty is even more so.  I took more than 140 photos yesterday, and about a hundred of them were of Misty.  Some of them were blurred because she moved.  The same cannot be said of Scarlett's delicious food.  The only way that moved once it was on the plate was into my mouth via the medium of cutlery.

You saw them in preparation earlier.  This is the tomato salad with pomegranate seeds and molasses, and sumac, also from Silvena Rowe (ibid).  Beautiful, crunchy with the seeds, a tomato that tasted of tomato, with that wonderful sweetness from the molasses and sourness from the sumac.  My perfect salad in much the same way that sours are my perfect cocktail.

The pilaf is from the same author.  Mined with shards of wonderful Iranian (the best) pistachio and apricots.

I have to say that I am exceptionally fussy about rice.  I put it down to my partly Anglo-Indian background.  Rice is basmati or, if eating the food of a particular nation (Thai, Italian etc.) it is of a provenance and quality that is appropriate to that nation or dish (Jasmine or Arborio or Carnaroli).  In Kerala, we ate local rice, fluffy, slightly sticky, red rice (not uniformly red, but with a red tinge or seam to it that was still visible when cooked).  It was very nice rice and it suited the local food.  It was also a product of the local co-op.  Most of the agricultural producers in Kerala are organised into co-ops. 

Kerala is also an answer to the question asked by cynics as to why there are no successful communist regimes (because the capitalist/market-dominated regimes are so successful?).  A state of 30 million people which is run by the Indian Communist Party.  It works.  I am not sure about GDP in relation to other Indian states, but certainly on a cursory review it would appear to be one of, if not, the most prosperous state in India.  As there are bars in Scotland (every bar in Scotland) where you either order a blend (i.e. Famous Grouse) or name your whisky, so one should name one's rice.  The generic 'long grain' rice - could be any old thing - has no place in my lexicon nor in my kitchen.

Ghormeh Sabzi

Moist, tender lamb which fell apart (again, like LKH's meat) on the fork.  With dried limes, beautifully pungent, freshly chopped herbs (going a bit mad with the adverbs there but better than no adverbs at all).  Sour to my taste.  I think it was the dried limes.  I do know that Scarlett followed the recipe from Persia in Peckham to the letter.  And it was delicious.  The sour skew was probably down to me for indulging in a sometime habit of tasting things on my plate separately rather than together.  With some more of the rice (mined with apricots you'll recall), I might have found it milder.

The pudding was ambrosia.  Just a digression, I absolutely loathe rice pudding.  I was tortured at school during school dinners.  Ditto semolina and tapioca.  Ugh, ugh.  The only way I can cope with rice pudding is the Indian version, Payasam, because it tastes of something.  It has cardamoms in it, and delicious plump raisins.  It's really very nice as far as rice pudding goes.

Not an issue with the pudding although it did contain semolina, but it was good semolina, well-behaved wheat, not bad sloppy semolina.  It came in the form of...

Pistachio Revani with passionfruit syrup and greek yoghurt.  And it was superb.  Look at that lovely loose crumb.

Wonderful, isn't it?  Well, poor you, you wouldn't know.  But take it from me, it tasted as gorgeous as it looks.  Nothing wasted, everything gained.

Note the shards of pistachio which did sterling service in the perfectly cooked rice appearing here in another supporting role of sweet nuttiness.  And the Oscar for best supporting nut in a single meal goes to.... (trumpet call) the pistachio!  And what a well-deserved winner the pistachio is.  Elegantly dressed too and very versatile.  What a nut.

Pistachio, mmm, pistachio - sounds a little bit like pussy cat don't you think?  Of course you don't, because you're probably not in love with Misty like we are.  But just so that you can understand how perfectly pretty a pussy she is, here's the final photo.  Take it away Misty!