Roger Collis

About 100 years ago, my agent, Pat Lomax, was quite interested in my idea for a cook book: The moment has long passed. But having lost D., my darling wife (July 27, 2009), and revisiting these notes, I start to be intrigued once more. So here are my:  
 


NOTES IN PROGRESS

Food and the single man (or woman): recipes for survival (and seduction)

Some basic rules and premises:

Fast food does not need to be junk food: food can be junk at any speed.

I have never been a ‘hobby’ cook, spending hours fiddling around in the kitchen with copper pots and esoteric confections (sheer escapism for many otherwise undomesticated males); I am a ‘getting-food-on-the-table’ sort of cook – having done it for women, children and animals for several decades. And I have enjoyed doing it. Their satisfaction has been my reward.

However tight the budget, always try to buy the best ingredients and produce: prioritize. In fact, taking a little trouble with the best stuff is often cheaper and more delicious than so-called ‘convenience’ bung-ins from the supermarket. Always afford the best tea and coffee. When I’m out I invariably order a double espresso with a little bottle of fizzy water on the side; at home I make coffee in a cafetiere. (I usually buy Whittard’s breakfast blend and have it ground in front of me in the shop.) It only takes as long as boiling the water, for heaven’s sake. You can buy cafetieres for one or two cups. Some folk have their own espresso gizmo. Life’s too short for Nescafe.

Maintain standards. When you’re living alone, resist the temptation to graze. Make yourself a real meal at least once a day. Yes, the joy of cooking is giving someone else (especially someone you love) pleasure; but treating yourself with respect helps you to retain your self-respect when you are alone. If you need to rationalize, pretend that you are experimenting with a new dish.

Like politics, and writing a newspaper column, cooking is the art of the possible – meaning what you have available in the fridge or store cupboard. (It doesn’t have to be baked beans on toast – although this was one of D’s favorites; and it’s a comfort food with memories of students’ dorms and bed sitter days; as long as you have staples, such as, pasta; rice; potatoes; bread; olive oil; butter; a tin of sardines or smoked oysters or mussels, you can always put together a tasty something.)
The other day, a few rashers of bacon, slowly fried, and steamed spinach, hit the spot. Simple. Or, slice a few leftover cold potatoes, and sauté them in rosemary flavored olive oil. Grilled/fried tomatoes on toast make a respectable dish; add a fried egg, a bit of bacon or, wow, sautéed lamb’s kidney, and you have a feast. Mix and match is the byword. Side dishes can be main courses, depending on quantities and circumstances.

When entertaining guests, prep as much as you can beforehand to minimize your time in the kitchen and maximize your time at the table to chat to people. And keep it simple. Therefore, never attempt a hot starter that needs close and last-minute attention, and a hot main course; and, heaven forbid, a soufflé for pudding! – unless you really have got a slave in the kitchen; having said that, you may want to serve a hot starter with a cold main course.
(You could always contrive to ‘eavesdrop’ on guests’ chat when you are in the kitchen. Back in the early fifties in Liverpool, the late Fritz Spiegel, erudite musician and humorist – he was principal flute at the Phil in my time at the University – and his wife, harpsichordist Bridget Fry, I am told, left their Grundig tape recorder running when they left the room; more mischievous than mechant, I like to believe.)

There is virtually no difference in catering for one person or two; the ‘second’ portion can always be revisited in some form or other. The ‘leftovers’ factor is important in planning meals ahead. I will often buy a much larger piece of fish or meat than I can possibly eat at one sitting and eat the rest cold, or in another dish.

For example, the other day I bought a sirloin (enough for a dinner party) and roasted it for myself. It was absolutely mouthwatering. And I wished I could have done it more justice, or better still shared it. (I felt like a golfer who scores a hole in one – when there is nobody to witness his triumph.) But eaten cold, it made two more meals, served with mixed salad and sautéed potatoes. Sometimes, I bake a joint of salmon, cut from the middle of a large fish (about 1.5 kilos.) with dill, and afterwards eat it cold, with mayonnaise and boiled potatoes. This is one of my basic dishes for entertaining.

The English tend to overcook meat and fish, and boil vegetables to death. I like my beef and lamb rare, and I am careful not to overcook pork (which can make it tough) in spite of my mother’s admonition, ‘But you must cook it through, dear.’ Religious rules often stem from health rules; but I doubt whether there is concern for the tape worm in Western Europe today. (And there are worse things than taenia solium, which I’ve thought might make a great fad diet!) I like to steam a medley of vegetables, such as carrots, chopped red pepper, celery, leek, runner beans, asparagus tips) for just seven minutes (from the moment that steam emerges from the lid of the top container), which delivers them reliably al dente. (I sometimes compromise by straining boiled potatoes, which are not quite cooked, and putting them on top of the vegetables in the steamer to finish them off, a couple of minutes before they are ready to be dished up. Spinach is best done in a steamer; although I often compromise with a three-minute blast in the microwave.

Never commit a dish irrevocably to roasting, grilling, sautéing or whatever, until your guests arrive. A lot of things, like potatoes, and vegetables, can be put on the back burner (like most of my projects), if things should be delayed. If you must put the roast in ahead of time, take it out when it is cooked, do not wait for your guests. (It is always better to serve tepid food than overdone food, or heated up food. Chicken soup, for example, tastes better tepid, or even cold, than boiling hot.)

(You will notice that I tend to be vague about quantities, seasoning; while some ingredients come and ago, according to whim or availability. The French have a word for this practice – au pif (guesswork); Germans can upstage it with that marvelous word – fingerspitzengefuhl.)