Category Archives: Moro Restaurant and Cookbook
on eating alone…
I have always enjoyed eating alone in restaurants; not because I eschew the company of others but because it means I can selfishly choose foods and wines that might have to be the subject of debate and compromise were I … Continue reading
On the trail of the toothsome pine…
The muffled drumbeat of rain on the awning has not been heard for some time, but there it was, like an unexpected knock on the door that momentarily causes the smile to drain from the face. Being English we have … Continue reading
Of cabbages and coings….
The quinces had been sitting around for too long. They were a gift, and although not equine, I felt that I should not be looking at them in the mouth. Is it only mad people who write proverbs? Many a … Continue reading
Another bad meal at Restaurant Television….
I’m beginning to experience a previously unknown frisson of excitement each time I turn on the television in the evening. We have entered a golden era of extended choice of viewing which bears an uncommon resemblance to an embossed leather … Continue reading
Brown soup in the ring, da di da di da…
Unusually for a photographer I very much like cookery books without photographs. Photographs of food can be very misleading in that the reader may assume that the image on the page reflects the recipe writer’s view of the intended appearance … Continue reading
Travels with my tongue….
My favourite journeys to the Middle East are made through flavour and aroma which choice precludes the frustrations, expense and inconvenience of travel. Jean des Esseintes, the hero of J.K.Huysmans’ novel “A rebours“, had a similar disenchantment with the mechanics of travelling. … Continue reading
Friday night, and Saturday morning
There’s nothing funny here, Roger, I thought. Waking up on Saturday morning in a strange bed to the sound of unfamiliar breathing made me realise that I was the victim of my own unbelievable stupidity. Thinking back, I should have … Continue reading
Patatas a lo Pobre or Spanish Spud I Like…..
We without ovens salute you. Like gladiators constrained inside our given disciplines, the cuisine of La Moussiere will be confined to the heat of the hob for the next few weeks. Roast is toast. There will be no more crisp … Continue reading