Just enough time to look back

It’s the time of the year when, according to tradition, a look back over the preceding 12 months is in order.

And who am I to buck such a trend?

Sometimes this is a general review, but it can be specific to a subject too.

So here – but in no particular order – are a few of my favourite food-based memories from the last 360-odd days.

Meal of the year

It has to be that charity dinner in the spring at The Zetter, with Raymond Blanc and Bruno Loubet cooking, for pretty much obvious reasons.

Memorable it most certainly was – perhaps particularly because we could spot, easily, who was behind which course. And because it was clear that Blanc had brought with him produce from his kitchens at Le Manoir – the baby vegetables that somehow managed to be jam-packed with flavour and the air-dried duck that he’d been demonstrating on the television only a week earlier.

Single course of the year

The marrowbone at 7e Vin in Paris. Utter fabulousness.

I called it food for the soul then – I’m sticking with that now. My first experience of marrowbone in Carcassonne in July was good: this managed to be even better.

Restaurant of the year

Bistrot Bruno Loubet. No longer a discovery for us, but now a firm favourite – consistently wonderful food.

But also a mention for Au Casot in Collioure – not least because it’s wonderful to eat such simple but fresh and first-rate seafood right next to a beach, overlooking such an incredible scene.

Restaurant discovery of the year

Three really.

L'Amphitryon in Collioure. Finally, a genuinely memorable ‘posh’ eatery in our favourite place.

The cod with aïoli (pictured left) was quite superb, while the cassis sorbet re-introduced me to blackcurrants – I could happily have eaten it by the bucket.

Never mind Ribena: this was something very grown up.

Then there was Two Fat Ladies at the Buttery in Glasgow, which came up a really excellent – and stunningly good value – Sunday lunch, and Michael Caines @Abode in Manchester, where I enjoyed an excellent tasting menu.

Best fast food of the year

Fish and chips, done properly, in dripping and with proper mushy peas, in a small cafe on the dock side at Scarborough. It took 10 minutes to cook from the start – so that's 'fast' in my book.

And it was gorgeous.

Book of the year (recipes)

This might be about to be Michel Roux’s Desserts, but otherwise, Raymond Blanc’s Kitchen Secrets.

Book of the year

Raymond Blanc’s A Taste of My Life, for the reasons explained here.

But special mentions also for Matthew Fort’s Eating Up Italy, Nigel Slater’s Toast and the very, very important Shopped: The shocking power of Britain’s supermarkets by Joanna Blythman, which also made me take stock and adjust my life.

Personal achievement of the year

Christmas Day – lunch and dinner, not least for the presentation, but also for managing to plan it effectively enough to stop it being a trial.

And realising that I can now cook a few dishes without constant recourse to a recipe. That felt like a sort of culinary coming of age.

Gadget of the year

The mandolin and the mincer attachment for my mixer are good, but it has to be my potato ricer, which is just fabulous because it makes really fabulous potato purée.

Investment of the year

After umming and erring about it for some time, I finally shelled out for some Le Creuset – and realised instantly why it was worth it.

And after mentioning it here, a number of readers told me that they wouldn’t be without it.

Quality pays off.

Ingredient discovery of the year

Lard. Simple as. After Oliver Thring’s article on the subject in the Guardian early this year, I started exploring the issue – not just of lard, but of natural fats.

And I started cooking with them too, with great results. Lard and dripping are cheaper than the over-promoted artificial, so-called ‘healthy’ fats too. Any connection, one wonders?

But honorable mentions also go to the Bath Soft Cheese Co for Bath Soft and Wyfe of Bath, plus pigeon breasts, which are an all-year pleasure, and frogs’ legs, which were a very pleasant surprise.

And I can't forget blackcurrants – but that was less a discovery and more a re-discovery, as mentioned above.

Favourite ingredient of the year

Rhubarb still rates highly. One of these days I'll manage to create something really special with it, but in the meantime, I edged closer with a number of experiments – some more successful than others – in the early part of the year

Non-eating culinary moment of the year

Meeting Raymond Blanc. Charming and passionate. I’m afraid I was close to being rendered speechless.

Not quite – but it was a close-run thing.

Food TV of the year

Masterchef: The Professionals and Service, both of which saw Michel Roux Jnr soaring in my estimation.

Thank goodness we’ve left the era of chefs having to be shouty bullies. He treated people with respect and understood the difference between objective and subjective criticism.

Both programmes were not just competitions, but were also about giving people real opportunities to develop. And his demonstrations of classic dishes on the former programme were just an education.

The former too was about real people with real talent and skill – something sadly lacking in so much so-called 'reality TV' these days.

But let’s not forget Kitchen Secrets with Raymond Blanc – educational and enormously entertaining.

Cultural surprise of the year

It came late in the year – Christmas Day – but the Disney/Pixar animated feature Ratatouille is a delight – and a big surprise, not least because it champions food as pleasure over food as fuel, and it also links memory and food.

And it’s funny and gloriously animated. The kitchen scenes are extraordinary, full stop. But the realisation of food in an animation is nothing short of astonishing.

I've been fond of animation since I was child – this brilliantly brought this together with food. A wonderful combination!

It's a gateway to heaven at Two Fat Ladies

Two Fat Ladies at The Buttery has nothing to do with the Two Fat Ladies of TV fame. It’s named for the bingo call of the street number – 88 – that was where the first of four ‘Two Fats’ (as it is commonly known in Glasgow) opened, 21 years ago.

So it's nowhere near as old as Rogano, where I'd eaten two days earlier, but quite long enough in the tooth to have established itself firmly on the city’s eating scene.

It was, however, one of my non-recommended picks, found via a spot of Googling for the best Scottish fodder in the city. It’s renowned, apparently, for its fish.

Sunday lunch saw the culmination of my initial duties in Glasgow and I’d arranged to meet with friends straight after. We traveled first to the main – well, oldest anyway – campus of Glasgow University, for a quiet amble (with cameras) amid the fabulous Gothic buildings. The university was founded in the 1400s and the present site was started in the following century.

It might have made one think of Tom Sharpe’s Porterhouse Blue and Harry Potter, but it’s also a reminder of just what a centre of learning Scotland has been and remains today.

The day was grayish and far from warm, but it was a joy to have the cobwebs blown away in good company.

And so to lunch.

We were each handed a set menu and the à la carte one. All three of us spent an age choosing – there was nothing you wouldn’t have fancied trying. In the end, in an act of astonishing culinary solidarity and great-minds-thinking-alike, we all picked the same starter and main course from the set menu.

First up – pan-fried fillet of sea bream on creamed leeks with fennel oil. As one of my fellow diners put it: what a joy to find a chef who’s cooking with butter!

This was so, SO good that I ate the skin; crisp and seasoned with flakes of salt. The flesh was perfect – soft yet firm, moist and brim full of taste. The sauce was creamy and rich but still light.

Our joint choice for a main course was roast woodland pigeon served on shredded cabbage with a redcurrant jus.

Where do I start? Well, the wonderful meat was gloriously pink in the middle; so tender, so full of flavour. Parfait! as the French might say.

Red cabbage is far from my favourite, but this was wonderful: still with bite, but also soft and sweet. The jus added the necessary sharpness. It was all perfectly balanced. And there were delightfully roasted potatoes, courgettes and carrots on the side.

We went our separate ways for dessert. I chose a golden syrup tart with whisky ice cream. Oh dear. They were out of the whisky ice cream. I had to make do with honeycomb ice cream instead. The sacrifice!

I’ve read that most restaurants – most chefs – have a weaker point within their repertoire. It might be dessert – but it might be their fish. Their pastry might be stunning, but their vegetables let them down a tad.

Well, none of us could find a weakness in this meal. It was all simply wonderful. And the service was excellent too: friendly and relaxed, yet attentive when it needed to be.

Wine was available by the glass, in three sizes, and there was a decent list to choose from.

And as a bonus for me, the portions were a perfect size – I almost licked every plate clean!

I did say "almost".

So for one of Glasgow’s top eateries, what about the price?

Well anyone who has been paying attention knows I’m beginning to obsess about how people are conned into thinking they cannot eat really, really well, because they’d need a second mortgage to do so.

But those three courses were a whopping £18.50 per head. Or rather, a not-so-whopping £18.50.

The more I think about that price, the more I realise what an absolute bargain Two Fat Ladies at The Buttery is.

Later, spending a quiet evening back at the hotel, I went outside for a fag break and got talking to a young woman who was up for a trade show at the next-door exhibition centre. She’d just been to exactly the same restaurant – and was raving too.

My friends had been thinking that such a place would normally be out of their own remit. By the end of the meal, knowing the price, they were planning a return.

What more needs to be said? Superb Scottish food, superbly cooked and presented, with service to match. This is what good eating is about – and it will be some considerable time before I forget this fabulous meal.