Food wise, things have been pretty slow in the world of Eater’s Regret recently. I was delighted to attend the Irish Blog Awards where I debated with a blogger, whose name I cannot remember, whether the crostini crisps had a raisin reduction dressing or a balsamic dressing for a while. After eating about 30, I still hadn’t figured it out and gave up the quest.
I have also joined the legion of fans obsessed with the now cult cookery programme, Come Dine With Me, where 5 total strangers, (believe me ‘strange’ is the word for most of them) get together for a week and each night host a dinner party in their homes. It’s cringey, it’s riveting, it’s car crash TV at its finest. It’s also fantastic to see that some people still worship the humble, 70s classic Shrimp Cocktail and other people think that grilled cheese with lettuce (was actually halloumi) is a suitable starter.
A new discovery that is getting a lot of press in the London food scene is the very cool Underground Restaurant movement, where foodies host a weekly dinner party and throw their homes open to more total strangers. It really is a fantastic idea, and unlike Come Dine With Me, you can poke around their homes and don’t have to reciprocate with your own. MsMarmitelover is one such blogger who is documenting her weekly living room restaurant on her blog The English Can Cook. I really hope to book a visit there soon, as it’s not only the food which sounds great but the fun company of the host and her family of helpers. Definitely beats snooty restaurant waiters any day!
I am always looking for new ways to experience food and dragging the brave and willing boyfriend along. My favourite, so far, was a visit to a raw food dinner hosted on Valentine’s Day in a warehouse by the Wicklow based, Alive – Irish Living Foods Association, who also happen to be robe wearing monk types. Good times! Who would have thought that uncooked food could be so appealing? Though we were a bit worried that they would try to convert us to their religion or at the end announce that actually, the whole thing was a covert Murder-Suicide Pact… eeps paranoia much?!
We are heading off snowboarding to St Anton am Arlberg this weekend, where I am hoping to try all the local, authentic foods that just aren’t the same here. For example, I made Spatzle (noodle dish) at the weekend and it so did not live up the memories of my German host family cooking it years before. Food memories for me are strangely strong and evocative, is it like rose coloured glasses for my stomach? Anyone else suffer from this food nostalgia?