2012: A year in food

Yep it's that time of year again, the end of one food era and the beginning of another. This year has been marked by not only things that I never thought i'd ever do (go to China solo, sign up for a half marathon, drive a car....) but also things that I definitely would do. That is eat, a lot.

So I thought I would share with you my personal food highlights of 2012.

Best breakfast out

My two stints in Sydney have made this one difficult but I'm going to go with the place with not only the nicest food but also the best memory. Bills. My breakfast here was a simple affair, a good old British meets Aussie fry up. Except each element is delivered to perfection, the scrambled eggs are of course legendary, the heart stopping slab of butter positioned between two perfect pieces of sourdough and the delicious sausages. Washed down with a much too small cup of coffee (pyramid scheme). Additionally to the food I have great memories of that breakfast, it was a warm morning, I was sat opposite a school watching parents drop their children off, I'd just read about how interconnected we all are in the world and I was exchanging eye contact with the barista who was far too good looking for his own good.

Runners up: Greek eggs at Demitri's Kitchen (Melbourne), a classic fry up at Boston Tea Party (Exeter, UK), simple but beautiful avocado and tomato at Elizabeth Bay Cafe (Sydney) and the £10 French platter at Enoterra (Shanghai)

Breakfast fail of the year: Element Fresh (Shanghai), 4 poached eggs, sausage and sweet toast...really?

Best breakfast in

Smashed Avocado on Toast

This year i've spent a lot more time in my self-proclaimed fabulous kitchen. I've spent many a solo Saturday taking in the papers and aeropressing the hell out of my coffee. But one breakfast moment in particular stands out, that's my smashed avocado on toast.

I think this one was so significant because it was my first weekend back after Shanghai and I had dragged my weary hungry self to Sainsburys for the first post-jet lagged feast. With hunger and greed ravaging my soul, I had eagerly filled my basket with treasures, some super fancy golden yolked eggs (I'm pretty sure laid by hens that were fed exclusively with organic feed from Fortnum and Mason), a loaf of sourdough, some beautifully ripe hass avocados and some Greek feta. As I began to consume my eggy masterpiece I had one of those moments where I wished that somebody had been around to taste what a wonder I had created. The best I could do was take an arty farty hipsomatic instagram of it and as my friend TES would say, promise to 'blog the shit out of it'. So here it is:

Best Scrambled Eggs when you haven't eaten scrambled eggs or decent bread for 2 months
Serves one greedy person

Really good quality room temperature eggs (3 if you are feeling crazy)
Cubes of feta
A handful of rocket
A splash of cream
Butter (the good stuff, I like the one that's flecked with sea salt)
A nice ripe avocado
A couple of slices of good white bread
A squeeze of lemon
A scatter of chopped fresh parsley

Toast your sourdough or whatever nice thick bread you have cut. Lavishly spread with that beautiful butter. Mash some avocado in a bowl with a squeeze of lemon, a bit of sea salt and some black pepper. Spread generously on your hot toast. Next melt some butter (I know, I know...) in a pan and add your eggs with your handful of parsley and splash of cream. Scramble until gooey, don't let them go too far, take off the heat and let them firm up a bit. Arrange beautifully over your bread with a scattering of feta for saltiness and a handful of rocket to make you feel better. Serve with a fresh pot of coffee, the newspaper and Etta James.

Best fancy lunch

M on the Bund Brunch (Shanghai)

Dessert Platter, China Doll (Sydney)

A tie between my hatted lunch at China Doll with blushing bride VC and Welsh hottie GPR. We were spoilt with cocktails, duck pancakes, delicate and tender sashimi and a flurry of desserts (pictured).

Another incredible lunch moment of 2012 was lunch at M on the Bund with my wonderful Shanghai ladies. Not only was the food, view and atmosphere beautiful but also this was the moment, a week before I left, that I took the moment to appreciate the incredible experiences I had, and the amazing people that I had the pleasure of meeting. The fact that this moment also involved a Swedish smorgasbord and champagne was the icing on the cake.

Best absolutely mundane lunch

In my whole year my lunch highlight involves me crouching over my desk (which I made into a kitchen) in my little room in Shanghai, indulging in what might have been the best sandwich experience of my life. I think at this point I hadn't eaten decent bread, ham or cheese for a month and I had just discovered that you could get all of these things in my local supermarket just a hop, skip and a jump away. So I greedily constructed the best sandwich I've ever had, a slice of French cheese, some ham that I'm pretty sure on retrospect was a week out of date and butter all crammed in a huge crunchy and miraculously non-sweet baguette. I stuffed this with expensive salt and vinegar crisps imported all the way from the UK and for the first time in a month felt the culture shock melt away.

Best fancy dinner

Let's not beat around the bush here, my two best dinners out both involve Australia. The first, Porteno, two hatted heaven, specialising in meat but trumping with vegetarian delights such as quail egg salad with cauliflower puree. The second, one hatted happiness at Lolli Redini where I had a triple cheese soufflé foodgasm. Bravo Australia, you've done it again.

Notable mentions: The steak at Tonic (Nottingham), incredible pizza at brand new Scarpetta (Shanghai), birthday Yunnanese at Lost Heaven (Shanghai) and Duck at my beautiful friend's wedding (Corn Barn Exeter)

Best dinner in

Ronald McDonald eat your heart out

My stand out dinner also involves a solo Saturday night, for the whole week i'd had a hankering for a beautiful chicken burger. Having sneakily visited McDonalds that Tuesday for a McChicken Sandwich and still not satisfied, my attention turned to home made. I wandered around Waitrose hoping for inspiration and a few ingredients captured my attention, some beautiful fresh chicken breast strips, a packet of fresh breadcrumbs, some crunchy fresh rolls and some garlic mayonnaise. My dinner was set.

A Chicken Burger Supper for a blissful night in
Serves one girl with a hankering for a burger

A packet of chicken breast strips (you could do this yourself but I find this easier)
Either fresh breadcrumbs or a packet of panko (both are fantastic)
A crusty roll
A handful of whatever leaves make you feel better about yourself, I went for baby spinach
Half an avocado
Either homemade or really good quality garlic mayonnaise
Some mozzarella if you are feeling really naughty
An egg and some flour
Some skinny fries and Dijon mustard for dunking

Get yourself three bowls and whisk up one egg in one, some flour in another and your breadcrumbs in the final. Douse your chicken strips in flour, then egg, then roll generously in breadcrumbs. You could add some parmesan to your breadcrumbs here if you are feeling particularly mental.

Once you have coated your chicken heat some oil up in a shallow pan and fry each until golden. Pop them on a baking tray and finish off in the oven. Use your judgement depending on thickness, this should only take 15 mins max.

Prepare your lovely roll and get your chips cooked. Fill the roll with whatever you feel like. I added a strip of mozzarella, a smear of mayo and a handful of lovely peppery rocket. Add your hot chicken strips straight from the oven and serve with salad, fries and a dollop of Dijon for dunking.

Goals for next year

I have many food goals for next year, I want to visit Nottingham's very own Michelin Starred gaff. I'd love to eat a burger at Electric Diner in London. I want to try the new Scandinavian cuisine that is all the rage right now for my hopefully impending trip to Sweden and finally I'd like to bake my own bread and make some pate upon which to spread (if I can bear the sight of those livers).

So here's to an amazing year in food. I wish you all the best for 2013, may your plates be bountiful and your heart full of joy.

Lots of love and kisses
HYKAEI x

Cold Night Cookery Part 2: A Tomato Tart

I recently made a list of 29 things I wanted to do before I was 29 whilst cowering in a hotel room in the middle of a typhoon in China. The list was a whistle stop tour of philosophical whimsy (#24 change somebody's life, #21 discover Buddhism) to materialistic glee (#6 buy a fabulously expensive winter coat) to travelling wonder (#25 explore the icy North) to more time dedicated to food with friends (#14 throw an amazing party for friends). With the festive season approaching my flatmate and I decided that there wouldn't be anything better than to warm our beautiful home and host our even more beautiful friends with celebration of everything: of Christmas, of Nottingham, of being happy, of being together and being in the presence of wonderful food.

With that in mind I excitedly started menu planning, I was most excited about a deliciously simple pesto tart a la my ideal man (if he was straight) Nigel Slater.

A Tomato Tart for a Room full of your lovely friends (v)

Ready rolled puff pastry (one block)
Home made or good quality pesto from the chiller (I used Tesco's finest- award winner apparently)
A variety of interesting tomatoes (I used on the vine beefy ones and little mini yellow and red piccolo) . Room temperature please. What are we animals?
Some fresh basil- torn
Some mozzarella (a variation on the original recipe)

First of all flour a baking sheet and plonk your ready rolled pastry on top. Take a moment to bask in how easy that was. Take a knife and lightly score a 2cm border around the pastry like you are carving out a pastry photo frame (where I like to display my best snaps).

Now grab your delicious award winning pesto and slather the whole lot generously in your little picture frame until you start salivating. Next slice your tomatoes how ever you darn well choose and scatter in a thin (but not too thin fashion). That sounds vague, and it kind of is. But it's OK  Now scatter over your basil with a nice twist of sea salt, fresh black pepper and dot with torn mozzarella.

Take another moment to bask in culinary smugness before bunging it in the oven on a moderate heat. Remove when the pastry around the outside has risen and is looking golden and awesome.

The tart was a roaring success, as was the party of many highlights. I particularly enjoyed the Serbian home brew, the conga line and the realization that Mariah Carey's 'All I want for Christmas is you' will melt the heart of even the most cynical hipster.

So a very Merry Christmas to one and all. May your festive season be filled with warm houses overflowing with love, happiness and bloody delicious tarts.

Cold Night Cookery: Vegetable Lasagne

If you don't like this, I don't like you

With the nights drawing in and the cold weather howling outside my window every morning I have decided to do something wild and spend more time at home. Over the last 12 months most weekends have been spent jumping on expensive trains to visit loved ones around the country. While I have enjoyed every minute of these visits, my winter plan was to spend more time enjoying my home, taking in some music, having lots of baths, writing and of course cooking.

This Friday night was a rare gem, my housemate and I were miraculously at the same place at the same time on a weekend and we also had a lovely visitor. No better time to cook my extra special vegetable lasagne.

In our household growing up we didn’t eat a lot of minced meat, my dad couldn’t really stomach it and my mum followed suit so rather than fry minced beef for our lasagnes and and chillis we either used vegetables, and later on in my childhood, Quorn.

Quorn is a marvellous thing when added to hearty meals, adding bulk and if you ask me actually tasting nicer than mince (I hate the look, sound and smell of minced beef cooking). So in my endless quest for the perfect vegetable lasagne I have finely tuned and crafted the ingredients until I have found the ultimate combination of taste, texture and nutritional value (ish, ignore the cheese).

The inclusion of the soft jarred peppers in oil is a 2012 revelation as a result of doing my weekly shop at Sainsbury’s. Sainsbury’s own jarred peppers are wonderful, slightly charred and sitting in a delicious, delicately flavoured oil that I like to keep and add to other dishes. I personally can’t have a vegetarian lasagne without a courgette or two and I couldn’t explain to you why. The jury is out about how to chop them and it depends on my mood. Sometimes I want a fine dice, sometimes I want them a little more chunky, other times I go for circular cuts to fully absorb the flavour. Tonight I’m feeling circular. I don’t usually use aubergine (or eggplant to the foreigners), tonight I feel like it. I’m probably going to layer it with the pasta after separately chargrilling it, maybe slopping it about afterwards with some olive oil and basil. We’ll see how we go.

I’ve experimented with different kinds of pastas, blindly believing that fresh is best I recently used fresh sheets to find that they disappointingly shrivelled up when I added them to the hot sauce, like they were ashamed of their long durum wheat yellow bodies (it’s Friday afternoon, it’s getting a bit abstract). So now I’m of the mind-set of screw you fresh pasta and I’m back to good quality dried stuff, sometimes I go for the green, today its traditional.

The cheese sauce is quite possibly the glue that holds the whole wonderful construction together; I obtained this wonderful recipe from my mother who can’t half make a mean cheese sauce. I understand that I’m supposed to be making a béchamel but who cares, I’m adding cheese. I’m also sprinkling the top with cheese and blobs of mozzarella. Lighten up, it’s Friday.

Finally to top it all off a lovely glass of red wine at room temperature. Pinotage should do it tonight. Ah. What a week. Oh and I appreciate I haven’t updated you on the running training for a while. Yeah..it’s going um....well....

Cheerio

HYKAEI BEST vegetable lasagne for a cold Friday night with friends

(Serves 6 or 4 hungry people)

Quorn mince (one bag)

2 onions or 3, whatever

Some garlic, diced, sliced, jarred. Whatever you have the energy to do with it

A couple of big jars of passata and a tin of tomatoes (preferably organic)

Some soft peppers in oil (I like Sainsbury’s own)

Olive oil

1-2 Courgettes and maybe a nice looking aubergine

A ball of mozzarella

Some fresh basil

Either dried or fresh lasagne sheets. I used fresh the other day and they weirdly shrivelled when I put them on the hot sauce so maybe go with some good quality dry ones

For the sauce

A block of good cheddar (just some nice mature/extra mature- nothing too extreme otherwise it will be overpowering)

Milk

Butter (real butter please not margarine). I like the French stuff

A little flour

Method

Firstly chop your onions up to a relatively fine dice, they should at least not be huge. Get a bit of olive oil going and fry until tender, adding some garlic until your kitchen starts to smell like mamas kitchen (I also appreciate the irony that Italians don’t EVER use garlic and onions at the same time). At this point add your veg, if you chopped the aubergine into small chunks add this now, you’ll probably need more oil, these things drink oil like Jamie Oliver on a slow day. Also add your courgettes ensuring that you have the heat high enough to get some colour on them all. Now it’s time to add the Quorn, ah magical, from freeze dried to mince in 0.2 seconds. Done.

Now you need to start adding your tomato based things to the mixture, either chop your peppers up or just throw them in whole adding a bit of the oil as well for good measure (not too much). Pour in your passata and tomatoes, a bit of water if you like and even some tomato puree if you want to go tomato crazy. Leave this to bubble away like a tomato sauce nightclub for a little while, use your instincts, if it starts thickening and looks awesome, it’s nearly done. Tear up some basil and add some seasoning, sometimes I add sugar sometimes not, always a bit of pepper, maybe salt. See what you think. You can EVEN throw a bit of your glass of wine in for depth of flavour.

If you are layering your aubergine like me then use this moment to fry in batches and set aside.

Right sauce DONE, set aside.

Now you are on to your cheese sauce, you need to watch this because it will cook quite quickly and then you will frantically need to construct your masterpiece (two people are better than one). First of all you need to make a roux. I never have exact measurements for this, just throw in a good old dollop of butter, a fair slice from your beautiful French stuff. When it starts to melt add a couple of heaped tablespoons of flour. I never add enough at this stage so don’t listen to me, add more. Stir until it makes a paste and now you need to add your milk whilst whisking, you can add some nutmeg at this stage if you want to be traditional. I never do, that stuff gives you hallucinations. Again this is a judgement call, it should be relatively thick now and this is your moment to throw in handfuls of salty amazing cheddar until the sauce can barely take no more.

Now to construct, layer sauce with pasta, a smidge of sauce, eggplant and repeat until you slather the top with cheese sauce. Dot with torn mozzarella and basil and sprinkle with the remaining grated cheese (stop eating it). The key is to make sure all of the pasta is covered by liquid or it won’t cook.

Time to select a wine, gutsy Pinotage wins!

Put it in a hot oven, make yourself a simple green salad, cut some bread and dunk it in olive oil, and pour yourself a glass of red.

I saw you eating that leftover cheese sauce!

Bon appetite!

On love..

In the most sentimental entry of this blog's history I report live to you from Sydney International Airport with a few words about love (I promise next week ill get back to talking about pastry).

This later part of my 20s has been marked by the loss and gain of great love. I'm coming around to the idea that life is a constant ebb and flow. People coming in and out of your life constantly, changing little or big aspects of you. Brief encounters, people who change your outlook or perspective, people who teach you things, those who show you a path that you don't want to go down, those that shock you, those that comfort you.

But what of great, enduring love? That bit is trickier, the quest for lifelong love. That bit may require sacrifice and compromise but never ever the changing of yourself.

Today I am lucky to have that perfect luxury, the enduring love of friendship, that higher order kind of love that doesn't judge or anger but rather supports, nurtures and changes you into the person that you were meant to become.

So to all those that I love dearly. I am grateful daily to you all for changing my life. I'm so happy to be part of your world.

So wherever you are reading this, on the train, at work (naughty), over toast and tea or wine and steak. Take a moment to be grateful for those you love because its these small moments of gratitude that form the beautiful patchwork quilt that is your life.

So with love, thanks and in the search for the perfect cheese toastie.

Goodbye for now Sydney.

How not to train for a half marathon: The aerobics class

It's been a running joke (pardon the pun) for the last two weeks (usually when i'm sitting happily with a slice of pizza and a glass of wine), when my training is going to start. I usually smile, laugh and say soon (trying to look serious). But it's always followed by the thought...when is my training going to start?

With that in mind I decided to get my cardio up to semi normal levels by attending a weekly aerobics class a mere 10 minute walk from my house, so no excuses.

It's funny how our perception of ourselves never map on to reality. In my head i'm wonderfully co-ordinated, positively graceful. Gliding through the world with the greatest of ease, salsa-ing my way through life doing a constant two step.

It's times like aerobics class when that illusion falls apart.

I arrived and the peppy, lovely perma tanned lady greeted me and handed me a form to fill out. After she was fully reassured that I wouldn't drop dead in her class, I stood amongst the usual characters, clasping what looked like a giant deflated balloon, bopping to the obligatory blasting house music, ready to get fit.

Five minutes in I caught a glimpse of myself in the window and realised how utterly and comically ridiculous I looked, flailing around in a crazy fashion, with not even my arms co-ordinated with the rest of the group. I began to get the giggles, feeling like Louis Theroux investigates the aerobics class or feeling like this may be great material for a short story. My giggles were compounded by the most remarkably fit old lady in front of me who was using her stretchy giant balloon as a ninja belt as she effortlessly sashayed backwards as I spun the wrong way and collided into strangers.

As the music continued from one bad dance track to another, hundreds of squats down and my heart rate up I began to feel a little euphoric. By the time 'We are young' came on and we were doing horrendous sit ups I started to feel positively giddy.

So as I happily bounced home, I thought three things: isn't exercise fun, i'm so uncoordinated and boy do I want quiche.

So that's what I had, but that's ok. The peppy lady with the freaky abs would say I deserved it.

The Loneliness of the Not So Long Distance Runner

Running isn't so bad

In a slight change of tac, rather than write about the time I ate a butter encased cheese filled croissant, I've decided to write about something a little crazy that I did recently. Sign up for a marathon.

It's safe to say i'm not runner, nor am I sporty. I have an aversion to the gym, I can't catch to save my life and I have repressed memories of PE where I was kicked off the netball team after one terrible game as Goal Defence.

That aside, this year is all about challenges and distancing myself as far as possible from my comfort zone. So here I am, four and a half months from the marathon, slightly terrified, slightly in denial with a faded print out of my bootcamp style 'training schedule'.

I decided that it might be quite amusing to document the highs and lows of my 'training', the times that I don't bother because I have to eat a 3 course meal or go to Australia. The times that I go and want to throw up after 11 minutes (that happened today) and the pure of euphoria of doing something new.

In true researcher style i've already done the groundwork about how to be a runner, apparently you have to have good shoes, a lot of will power and dedication and an acceptance that you will get blisters and occasionally want to cry.

Glancing at my beginners 'how to get around the marathon without dying' schedule today I decided to test out my stamina by going for my first run in a year. The back drop was idyllic as I huffed and puffed my way around 4k going through a range of emotions, the low point 10 minutes in where I actually wanted to keel over and get into the foetal position and the high point 33 minutes in when I realised that I was over the hump and could actually keep going.

Sights of my run included a couple going to 2nd and maybe 3rd base as I jogged by, a few lovely squirrels, some lazy walkers eating ice cream (who I scoffed at in a smug runner satisfaction) and the chicks of Spring that have now grown into lovely scary ducks.

Level of pain post run..hard to say. It's been 5-6 hours and I can already feel my legs seize up. Maybe I went in too hard.

As I came home a little out of puff tucking into my yoghurt and blueberries and nuts, I realised why some people do this. The euphoria of pushing your body is quite rewarding, I got into a little world of my own with the backdrop of Hot Chip thinking about life and the future and how nice the park looked drenched in orange.

So run 1 over, 4k done. I will update on the highs and lows of the rest of my training.

Now if you'll excuse me I think I've earnt a piece of cheese on toast, if I can get up.
Ouch

Lunch and Love at Auntie Fu's Inn

Auntie Fu's Inn

There were many highlights on my China adventure but none so rustic and memorable as my lunch at Auntie Fu’s. Auntie Fu’s is located about 2 hours South of Shanghai and a little into the countryside amid the farms full of chickens and green tea. Fu’s had become famous for rustic organic produce and of course a great lunch. A trip to Fu’s had become a middle class mecca, hippy Westerners driving down to pick their organic chicken and neighbours stopping by for the best corn in town.

My journey so far had opened my eyes to the real side of delicious Chinese food, rice, usually steamed or fried, usually a whole fish simply steamed with soy or a fresh school of prawns, many vegetables sometimes pickled, sometimes fresh with a little vinegar and meats flavoured with star anise and sticky with sugar.

Today at Fu’s things were a little different, it was a hot 35 degree day and we were led up a rickety staircase into a tiny room barely able to fit the signature round table. Our first delectable treat was a bowl full of freshly made date and logan tea, it was delicate and cool and beautifully fresh, we all happily downed it with a smile.

Next were the signature ‘starters’ some small crab with endame beans, a school of fried prawns and a pile of unidentified steamed greens with garlic. Next came the meats, sticky belly pork with seaweed (delicious), one of Fu’s golden skinned chickens hacked into delicious pieces, a big pile of fried rice and the most delicious steamed yams ive ever tasted. To conclude a big bowl of ham hock and sweetcorn soup was presented with thick juicy corn delicious doused with some rice.

Dessert was my favourite xi gua, sticky rice cakes and some sugar cane that we all peeled ourselves.

Rustic dessert

As I sat there in the unfamiliar surroundings listening to the fast conversation that I couldn’t understand with it’s now familiar tones I thought how oddly normal this meal was, a simple deconstructed good old fashioned Sunday roast with the ladies. Odd how something so foreign to me a month ago had become so normal.

The conversation turned to love, as all the women shared their stories I felt warm in the fact that no matter where we are in the world or where we are in our lives, some things never change. In this case, get a group of women together over lunch and talk will inevitably turn to boys. As stories got thrown around, some sad, some hopeful, some fresh wounds and some old ones, collective words of wisdom were gathered from around the table. ‘Love yourself first’, ‘keep your options open’, ‘wait until it’s worth compromising’ and never lose yourself.

And finally, my favourite gem of wisdom from a lady with the best sugar cane bite of the lot of us, translated of course.

If you like him, never call. Never stop flirting no matter how old you get and surround yourself with men who fancy the pants off you.

So here’s to never giving up on love, Sunday lunch, Auntie Fu’s pumpkin and loving yourself first. All the way from China.

Post Shanghai Musings

Chinese menu trauma. Nice scarf!

Nihao lovely readers!

Well i'm back, i'm alive, i'm only partially covered with a fine mist of old Chinese man saliva and I'm adjusting to being in a country where I'm moderately less likely to be blown away by a typhoon and people understand what I say.

To say that going to China alone was one of the scariest experiences of my life would be an understatement. It was scary for a number of reasons:

-The place is absolutely fucking huge
-My fear of crossing the road in the UK where conformity reigns and green means safety was put to the test as crossing the road became a survival of the fittest
-I don't speak a word of Chinese

However, despite my daily terror, Shanghai was the most fascinating, challenging, exciting and thrilling trip of my life.

So now I am home in the comfort of my kitchen I can finally reflect upon my dining experiences, of which there were many, gross ones, exotic ones, vaguely familiar ones, outrageous ones and delicious ones.

So let's start our journey in a rustic farm, lamenting about love and bloody delicious pumpkin.

Bye bye (that is literally how you say bye in Chinese)

Pre-Shanghai Musings

So it's the eve of my journey to Shanghai and due to life becoming frantically busy I haven't had a chance to write in a while. I haven't even published my pre-written entry about an amazing coffee I had in Farrington. How rude.

So first thing tomorrow I leave for China, first class to St Pancras. Travelling in style naturally. Although the endless luggage and tripping over myself in my usual haphazard way might ruin the international business woman look that I am so yearning for.

I'm a little nervous about this trip as it is catapulting me far from my comfort zone. As much as I am a believer that the greatest things happen in life when you step out of your comfort zone into the dark unknown, i'm still a little scared. I really like my comfort zone, it has brownies. Look (I made brownies).

So rather than spend the next two months arranging flowers in my beautiful kitchen, cooking, watching Friends and drinking cups of apple and cinnamon tea I have decided to take the scary option of arriving alone in an unfamiliar country with no concept of the language and only the best translation iPhone app for assistance.

I do however, have a list of places to eat, a list of things and people to see, a list of potential new friends, a handsome Australian visitor, a suitcase full of my best strutting around China clothes (including 5 pairs of uncomfortable shoes) and an empty diary ready to be filled up with memories.

So I guess the only thing to do in this situation is to shut up, get on the train and do a long jump out of my comfort zone.

That is after all, where the most magical things happen.

So goodbye for now Britain. I have a date with Shanghai.

City Girl Goes Country: A Weekend in Devon

Topsham tranquillity

One of the things I love about having a diverse mix of friends scattered across the country is the joy of darting off in different directions to visit them and get a taste of their daily life. This particularly grey weekend I decided to pop down to Devon to visit my wonderful University friends SH and KG for a weekend of good food and lots of laughs.

I'm widely known amongst my friends for my inherent bewilderment of the country. It's not that I don't love and appreciate the rolling hills, peace and tranquillity and tiny villages where everybody knows your name. I'm just not really kitted out to belong in these places. Visiting country towns feels like I've invaded some foreign land, ramblers strolling past with their walking sticks and backpacks and vast array of sturdy walking shoes and gilets somehow managing to look appropriate and stylish all at the same time.

To every body's constant amusement the best sensible outfit I can construct is my fancy Melbourne wool blazer that cost me a month's rent, a pair of holy leggings and my bright white trainers that have a token scattering of mud from the one time I wore them. After years of lying to myself and others that I love the great outdoors, conjuring up a forced expectant smile at the prospect of another camping trip, I have finally embraced my city roots feeling safe in the comfort that I can order food at 2am, always get a cab by a mere wave of the arm and spend my Friday night's perched in a cocktail bar dressed up in my finest.

That being said I was excited for my weekend ahead to embrace my dormant country side and hopefully eat lots of beautiful local food. Saturday morning SH tentatively laid some ideas on the table, did I want to ramble along a river, go and have some lunch or visit the Devon County Show. To her and my surprise, I opted for the county show.

A Day Out at Devon County Show
http://www.devoncountyshow.co.uk/

As soon as we had paid our entrance fee I realised that the County Show was a big deal in these parts, the place was packed with healthy rosy cheeked children, dogs and roaming farmyard animals sporting prize winning ribbons. Completely inappropriately dressed as usual I hobbled around clutching my vintage bag tripping over hundreds of dog owners and patches of non-descript mud. Scouring the show for something that would take my fancy aside from alpacas and stalls informing me how to disinfect my farm it finally hit me. The food tent.

The tent, as expected was superb, Devon seems to really be making headway with some beautiful local produce. I sank a gorgeous organic coffee made from some local beans, tried the local Pebblebed fizz (http://www.pebblebed.co.uk/), drank some free ale, had the sweetest and butteriest cupcake with thick coffee infused frosting and finished it all off with a delicious Tom's Pie (http://www.toms-pies.co.uk/) with it's perfect pastry crust and creamy chicken filling.

Another exciting foodie part of our day was a pleasurable half an hour in the Dart's Farm tent, a local food mecca where I had previously enjoyed a delicious Sunday roast with beautiful lamb and a selection of freshly picked seasonal veg including the best red cabbage I have ever eaten (http://www.dartsfarm.co.uk/). This time Dart's Farm slightly eccentric owner and head chef from a local Topsham restaurant were rustling up a series of free treats including farm fresh strawberries and hand made hot fudge with vanilla pod infused creamy ice cream. The local sexy rugby team were causing a bit of a stir haphazardly hacking up a Dover Sole and roasting some vegetables.

Sexy rugby cooking

After my day on the farm, resting my sore feet my country friends decided to give me a break and send me to Exeter for a taste of the city.

Exeter: The Big City

Exeter, I'm reliably informed, is the equivalent of a metropolis down south and I must say that I've fallen a little bit in love with it. The medieval streets were unusual and interesting, the central cathedral was beautiful and every step I took I felt like I was living back in some distant historical time, wandering around in my bodice trying to find the butchers. In amongst the history, Exeter has a vibrant centre and some interesting independent bars playing live music by candlelight and serving delicious looking pizza platters (http://oldfirehouseexeter.co.uk/).

We decided to go and grab some dinner and miraculously snagged a table at basement wine bar and restaurant Rendezvous.

Dinner at Rendezvous 10
38-40 Southernhay East, Exeter EX1 1PE
http://www.winebar10.co.uk/

Moreish Pinot Gris

Rendezvous is a beautiful little wine cellar bar hidden down some non-descript stairs in a fancy bit of Exeter. As soon as we wandered into the warm room full of candles and excited chatter I knew that I was in for a treat. Everything on the menu looked great and I was instantly torn between lamb or steak. Having eaten a lot of steak recently I opted for the lamb rump, medium rare with a stack of dauphinoise. Inappropriately for my main we ordered a beautiful bottle of French Pinot Gris which was light, fruity and delicious and happily swigged while we indulged on some salted nuts.

SH had some local grey mullet and a beautiful looking swirl of mash while KG opted for the pea risotto that looked light and cheesy. I really loved my main although it almost defeated me with it's richness and size. After many giggles and feeling full to the rafters we wandered off into the night to drink more wine, miss trains and crash a wedding or two.

After a lovely tranquil Sunday in Topsham as my train ambled away I suddenly in a flash had a glimpse of how my country life could be, a stables, maybe some flowery apron and AGA cooking up some organic vegetables from my patch. Maybe I'd wear pearls and wellies and write a book about how living in the city had defeated me and how I decided that deafening silence and a border collie suddenly made sense.

Ordering another Starbucks and tucking into the Guardian Guide with it's infinite listings of gallery openings, plays, new restaurants and city fashion I realised in a moment that it would never be for me. But that's ok, how wonderful it is to embrace all aspects of life without prejudice and with an open mind.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get home to clean this mud off my suede boots. Why does my new dress smell of horse?

Taxi!