"An owinge owinge..."

I'd like to thank the little old lady who was eating clementines on the tram today. There is nothing as tempting as the smell of oranges as they're being peeled, and nothing as satisfying as eating one that is perfect in every single way: sweet, but with enough sharpness to cut through the sugar and perfectly juicy. First thing in my shopping basket once I hit Monoprix was a bag of clementines and I am pleased to say, this one is absolutely divine.

"Houmous on bread, it's the future. I've tasted it."

The fastest and most immediately satisfying lunch/snack (depending on how strong your willpower is) has to be this:

It really has become my most recent food obsession. Grilled 'petits pains' dipped into a tub of plain houmous. Incredibly more-ish but, all things considered, not actually all that bad for you. I first tried this last Friday, when I went to the zoo with some of my friends here and we had a picnic. I can't believe it had never occured to me that grilled bread + houmous = three bites of heaven, but it is.

Thursdays are pretty hard going for me. I have one lecture from 11.15-12.45, then have a coffee and panini in the canteen with my friend, then I go home for a couple of hours to pick up the work we're going to do when I come back onto campus to meet her and our other friend at 3.15 after their lecture. We have a two hour natter - I mean, work session - before our (give me strength) three hour lecture from 5.15-8.15. Needless to say, by the time I do eventually crash through the doors at about 8.30 the idea of cooking anything is pretty unappealing, but if I eat a big meal just before the lecture, I'll get even sleepier than can be naturally expected of a person in a hot lecture theatre being droned at about "les sciences du langage" for three hours. The solution seems to be to have a coffee before I go to the lecture, something sugar-y to give me energy in the break we're given halfway through, and then have something like this when I come back in. That way, even if I cannot summon up the energy to cook, at least I've eaten something.

A heads-up for anyone thinking of coming to France: make sure you come with an open mind when it comes to carbohydrates because this really is a country built on bread. And what good bread it is, too...

Oh, and, happy December! I'd be opening the first door of my Advent Calendar, only I haven't got one. If it's not Dairy Milk, it just doesn't feel the same :( Psst, Mum that's a 'subtle hint' for  my triumphant return...

Musings.

I am one of life's procrastinators. If I'm given a job, I will leave it until the last minute so I end up rushing around like a mad thing, hair plastered to my forehead, eyes wide and hands shaking from an overdose of caffeine, frantically trying to get whatever job it is that needs to be done, done. This has a nasty tendency to carry over into my uni work - which is why, instead of starting my revision for the exams I have next week I spent tonight reading this incredible, hunger-inducing blog and thinking about... Well, this one, actually.

When I started the blog, I had every intention of documenting my adventures in the kitchen, but as is so often the case with me, after a while I sort of... gave up. Found better things to do. Reasoned that the food I cook is pretty repetitive and I can't afford to make really fancy, exotic meals (and at the moment I can't due to the useless kitchen - see post below...). But then I realised that being a "student foodie" doesn't just mean cooking really sumptuous, yet cheap, meals.

Because when it comes to it, what I really love is food and the experiences that come with it. Going for a really fantastic meal where you and your friends don't actually say anything because you're so busy enjoying eating it. Finding a place that nobody else knows about and sharing it with the select few. The incredible way that food can take us right back to our childhoods. Going to a restaurant where the food is just okay and the décor a bit naff but it doesn't matter because you're with your friends. Spending an hour talking to your friend about bread, and planning (only half-jokingly) to open a bakery.

The point is, I am a foodie, not because I can come up with exciting new recipes and revolutionise the way we think about cooking, but because I just love food. So this blog is having a bit of a change in attitude. Same title, same student with aspirations above her means (at least for the moment) - but this time, it's about my relationship with food.

And on that note - I'm going to get stuck into my pasta alla genovese, which, incidentally, was the first meal I blogged about. What can I say - it's a student staple ;)

Kitchen woes

It's been nearly nine months since my last post, in which time a lot has happened. I took, finished, and passed my exams, had an awesome time at my university's Summer Ball, spent a week in Paris with the parents, attended my first ever festival, and made cupcakes. Lots and lots of cupcakes.

First attempt at making and frosting cupcakes. I'd like to point out that I have improved. Something about frosting 75 mini-cupcakes will do that to a girl.

And where am I now? In the south of France. Montpellier, to be precise - for my year abroad.

The mini Arc de Triomphe just opposite Peyrou.

Montpellier has a lot to recommend it: beautiful architecture, gorgeous weather and one of the youngest populations in France (something like 60% of the Montpelliérain are under 25) - but the kitchens in halls are truly atrocious. For a culture that is so defined by cooking I have never seen halls so ill-equipped for doing precisely that.

Each floor of the building has about 20 rooms, and I'd estimate that about half of these are studios, so have their own small kitchen corner. The rest of us have to use the communal kitchen. And what a sorry thing it is, too. For the ten to fifteen people who don't have their own facilities in their room, we get to go to an opressively dark and antisocial kitchen and cook on one of the four hot plates. It's worth noting that in the three plus months I've been here, there's been maybe three weeks where all four are functioning, and there was one horrid week where none of them worked. We also have two sinks. No oven, no microwave. Just four rings which may or may not be working, and two sinks.

Back when I was a lowly first year and in my halls it's not like I used the oven a lot, but it was nice to have the option there. It was nice to know that if all I wanted was an oven pizza or a quiche or to make potato wedges I could. And the old saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder" is so, so true. I have never missed the presence of an oven more than in these past 3 months. I've had dreams where I assemble an amazing roast dinner and then get to this ridiculous kitchen and have to cook all of it over the one ring that's working - the small one, too - and in a frying pan. I wake up in a cold sweat.

So is it really any surprise that for the past three months, after the novelty of spaghetti/rice with meat and tomato sauce wore off (I'll give you a clue: it didn't take more than a week), I've been daydreaming about an opportunity to come home and use the oven? Baking cakes, helping my mum out with the Christmas dinner, making stews - I'm not entirely sure whether I miss my parents or my parents' kitchen more. Now that they've had underfloor heating installed, I fear it may well be the kitchen that I miss.

I am aware that sympathy for someone who gets to spend a year in the south of France as part of her degree is not going to be particularly forthcoming, but please, won't somebody think of the kitchen?

Sink number two is just around the corner, but this is the kitchen. It makes my inner foodie weep, it honestly does.

Easy like a Sunday morning

I think that there is no better way to start my Sunday than by a long lie-in, preferably with people bringing me cups of coffee, gloriously buttery toast and allowing me free reign of the remote control. However, I am living the student life, so the coffee and toast has to be made by me - quelle dommage!

But, I had the next best thing this morning - half a carton of eggs left to me by my housemate and the offer, nay, the instruction, to use them up before she comes back from visiting her father. As you can imagine, it was a real struggle to think of something to cook, and after I puzzled for about thirty seconds, I got the necessary accoutrements together to make a fluffy cheese omelette.

Like a lot of things I cook, I judge whether it is a success or a failure based on how much like my mother's the end product resembles, and omelettes are absolutely no exception. My favourite dinner when I'm home is when Mum can't think of what to cook, none of us have anything in mind, and there's plenty of eggs in the fridge. Cheese, ham, bacon, occassionally potatoes and onions to make a traditional Spanish tortilla - omelettes would certainly be a contender for my last meal on earth.

The key with making a perfect (read: my mother's) omelette is to make it really, really fluffy, keep the pan well-oiled but the heat not too high, and to wait for the open top to cook before you fold it, and flip it. Getting a good non-stick pan that's not too wide across is also important, as if you get one that's too wide, you really need an obscene quantity of egg to be able to cover it from side to side but also have a bit of depth. Luckily, my housemate has provided us with a pan that is absolutely perfect for this.

So, with your pan on the hob and a glug of olive oil in it, spread all across the pan so the majority of the pan is covered, you need to beat your eggs, seasoned with a little pepper (2-3 for one person), and preferably prepare any fillings so it's nice and quick to throw the fillings in once it's ready. Once the eggs are beaten, pour them into the pan and as soon as it starts to cook around the edges, take your fork and drag some of the edge into the centre, then tilt the pan so that the raw egg covers the space. Keep doing this, working all the way around the pan until there's a pile of fluffy egg in the centre. This is why it is crucial to keep the pan on a medium heat - if it's too high, the egg will cook too quickly and you won't be able to make it gorgeously fluffy. Once the top's cooked and there is no more runny egg, add the filling, then get a fish slice under the omelette, and fold it in two. Press down so that any remaining raw egg seeps out and can be cooked, then once you're happy everything's cooked, carefully flip the omelette to cook the other side. This is where experience pays off! Once that's cooked, slide it onto a plate and enjoy - preferably while watching "Saturday Kitchen" on the iPlayer ;]

Procrastination? I'll do it later...

This seems to be how my brain works:

10.45 - At 11am, I'll start working on this essay.

10.55 - Need coffee for with writing essay.

10.57 - Kettle boiling, coffee and milk in mug. Need biscuits for with coffee. No biscuits in house.

10.58 - Ooh. Cornflour, butter, flour, icing sugar... Shortbread?

11.55 - Oops.

This is not the first time I've made something to avoid writing an essay - I made an entire lasagne essentially from scratch last year to avoid having to sit down and work. The hilarious part about my making shortbread today is that I've just been invited to an event at my university called "Putting off procrastination". Now that, Alanis Morissette, is ironic...

The thing is, shortbread is so much more fun to make than sitting down with an absolute tome of an anthology, trying to write about depictions of the Passion in Medieval lyrics. And it's so obscenely easy to make, and provides such a quick pick-me-up (particularly when it's Valentine's Day and instead of walking hand-in-hand along a river, having a picnic, swapping presents etc you're writing an essay) that my little brain can't help but go, making shortbread? Why not! even though the pile of notes and very bare-looking Word document open on my laptop is testament to all the reasons why I shouldn't be making shortbread...

The recipe is simple enough, although I halved the quantities to make my life a little easier:

• 16oz of flour, cornflour and butter
• 8oz of icing sugar
• some caster sugar to sprinkle

1. Pre-heat the oven to 180ºC and grease a long tin - mine's one of those long flan tins with the removable base
2. Sift together the flour, cornflour and icing sugar in a bowl.
3. Grate the butter in - this works particularly well if your hands tend to be on the warm side (I've been given the nickname Radiator Hands by many) - even better if you freeze the butter beforehand so it doesn't melt.
4. Rub the butter into the mix until the flour stops looking white and starts looking more golden and crumb-y.
5. Gently press into the tin - use the back of a spoon to work it into corners and even it out if you have to.
6. Bake for 15-20 minutes, then once you've taken it out, dust it immediately with caster sugar and use a sharp knife to cut it - this will make it easier when you eventually come to take it out once it's cooled.
7. Leave it to cool in the tin, then remove and try to resist the temptation to eat them all straight away ;]

Done and dusted. It really is so so easy to make and one of those things that really does supply instant gratification.

New term, same old routine.

Thankfully, my new Mondays aren't nearly as horrific as they once were. But for the first two weeks, the Erasmus Soc meetings are going to be at the same time as before, so a bit of forward planning for tonight was pretty crucial. I hadn't had salmon for quite some time, and knew there were some fillets in the freezer, so got my lovely housemate Georgia to take one out when she was going to get the things for her dinner out.

Earlier on, I'd found a Jamie Oliver recipe on his website for pesto salmon parcels, wrapped in foil and cooked in the oven. Although the recipe calls for beans to be partly boiled and then put in the foil parcel along with the salmon, I don't really like green beans and I'd bought some sugarsnap peas and babycorn earlier, so decided to go for that instead.

Firstly, I preheated the oven to 180 degrees and got some baby new potatoes on the boil. I placed the salmon fillet, skin side down, onto a long piece of tinfoil and put a generous tablespoon of pesto on top, then the juice of half a lemon, a drizzle of olive oil and seasoned. This went into the oven on top of a baking tray while the potatoes bubbled away happily.

About 10 minutes in, I popped the steamer full of my veg - and a very good portion of veg it was too, my mother would be proud! - on top of the saucepan of potatoes and left to steam while the salmon finished cooking, which only took about another five minutes. After that, I took the baking tray out of the oven and opened it, to be greeted by a waft of lemony pesto. The salmon flaked off of the skin (a small mercy, as I am quite squeamish when it comes to fish skin!) and left a lovely juice to be poured over the salmon, potatoes and veg on the plate. A final squeeze of the half lemon over everything (and a bit of butter, because it is the first Monday of term, after all) and I was really very ready for it.

Definitely, definitely, better to do that than to just have toast or something junky, or worse, nothing at all. It only took about 20 minutes and used three dishes - a saucepan, a steamer and a baking tray, and I think I could've avoided having to wash the baking tray if I'd doubled the tinfoil so the oil didn't seep through.

Truly yummy, very easy and surprisingly quick. Another one to do again!