for ian

"Look! It's the Boston ducks!" you said to me, as you excitedly pointed at a mug with ducks on it. "The...what?" I looked at my (then) boyfriend and his mum, both shrugging at me. "The ducks! You lived in Boston, right? The Boston ducks! The duck tour? The ducks from the book?" I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, except that you knew I lived in Boston for 6 months when I was a kid. Even after we eventually got more of an explanation about the Boston ducks, it never really mattered. This would always be our point of reference when we didn't know what you were talking about. We'd all look at each other and say "The Boston ducks!" and you would smile too.

I feel like I need to replay these scenes in my head over and over, recall the sound of your voice, try to remember every single detail of the past 16 years with you as I try to figure out how to do this without you. As I go through each day, I realise that you are everywhere now.

You are your grandson who also has thick, spiky hedgehog hair. You are your granddaughter when she wrinkles her nose at pasta. You are your youngest granddaughter who would happily eat nothing but cookies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You are your youngest son in a million "it's a Durbin man thing" ways.

Every day when I get my shoes out of the exceptionally clever cupboard you made just for me, you are there.

You are in mind when I look out the window and think about what I'm going to plant this year. I won't have my "toh-may-to" basket from you which, to be honest, was the only thing that ever really thrived in my garden. I will try my best to make something grow out of the advice you gave me. I wish I'd paid more attention.

When I get my morning cereal, I see your big box of Weetabix in my cupboard. I think it's probably out of date now, if such a thing is possible with Weetabix. But I'm not going to get rid of it just yet.

You will be with us in Toronto where you went to summer camp and learned how to swim with a kid called Bobby (or 'baaaah-bee' as you laughed), and you had your first taste of chocolate milk.

I sometimes roll my eyes at how we now only seem to see the world through the lens of a mobile phone, but it means that I don't have to look very hard to find you. You're dotted throughout my camera roll and the folders on my Macbook. Thanks to our online life, a lot of people you never met have been asking about you. I'm proud to introduce you to them.

For as long as these things are around and we remember, you will be here. We will talk about you and smile about you, then our kids will tell their kids, and you will still be here.

And we will always smile about the Boston ducks, even though it still doesn't make any sense to anyone.

review: sticks n sushi cambridge

Right at the start of Meat Street (depending on which direction you're coming from, obviously) is Sticks N Sushi, a Danish chain with restaurants in London and now Cambridge. Yes, Danish. Why the hell not? I'm half Japanese and half Scottish; I'm all for fusion. It's a chain but it's not really a chain. A very short walk down the road leads to two other well known sushi chains, but I wouldn't consider them to be Sticks N Sushi's competitors. I see this as something higher end, a proper restaurant you'd go to for lovely drinks and pretty food.

Sticks N Sushi invited Cambridge area bloggers and writers to come to "preview" lunches and dinners a few days before they officially open on May 7. I took my friend Katie with me, who is my go-to person when I need an opinion on good restaurant food. I think she's eaten at every restaurant on my London wish list.

It was a gloriously sunny Friday, I bypassed the office sausage and bacon rolls that morning in anticipation of a big lunch, and I was in a happy and very hungry mood. We were immediately greeted by several smiling faces and taken to our seats at the bar. Our waiter told us that we would be served a set menu, but gave us the extensive "photo album" menu to look at for future reference. The menu is huge, with photos - 162 of them, to be precise - that helps people like me make food decisions. (I tend to skip over recipes that don't have photos. I'm kind of basic that way.) We started with drinks: a matcha tea for Katie and a lemon and ginger fizz for me. I was pleasantly surprised that the fizz wasn't sweet, and on such a hot day (for England), it was incredibly refreshing.

"Ebi bites" came out first, a sort of tempura prawn dish that was crispy and light. It's actually not at all tempura, I just used that word because it's on the menu. I'm not sure what the coating was, but it was almost like puffed rice. Whatever it was, we ate it in about 15 seconds and it was good.

The sushi was the focus for me, and my expectations were high. Cambridge needs decent sushi. We have Japas Sushi which is the best by far, but you go there to fill a sushi-shaped hole or get takeaway. You don't go there to linger over cocktails. Otherwise, we have chains and one of them is good (fresh, nice variety, not too expensive, great for food on the go) and the other is Yo Sushi. All I will say on the topic is that I only go there when my children clamour for it, and they only go there because food goes by on a conveyor belt and you can push a button to get more food. So when rows and rows of beautiful sushi arrived on two long plates, we both let out a little "Oooooh."

We had a combination of nigiri (fish on rice balls) and rolls. We were given a good variety to try, ranging from the more traditional (shake or salmon nigiri) to the more Westernised versions of rolls (spicy tuna with avocado.) The fish and rice were beautifully fresh, and the rice was seasoned well. Some varieties were more interesting than others, and you need to adjust your excitement levels accordingly. Nothing involving salmon and cream cheese is ever going to be described as "an explosion of flavour" but we liked them anyway. We decided to be sensible (this is a rare thing for me) and take about 1/3 of the sushi home and save room for the sticks.

We had three stick varieties between the two of us, which was good because we were starting to enter Man Vs Food territory with all of the sushi. We had black cod, asparagus in bacon, and as they must have got word about me and my love of bacon ahead of time, scallops in pancetta.  All cooked perfectly and hooray, double bacon!

I don't normally have dessert at Asian restaurants (mostly because we don't tend to do desserts all that well and I've stuffed myself with dumplings and/or rice by that point) but we fit in two small dishes of yuzu sorbet and vanilla ice cream, which were very welcome on a warm day.

The waiter described the provenance of all of the fish on our plates and we had a chat with one of the managers about it after our meal. This is an important factor at this restaurant and it's reflected in the taste - and price. This is the cost of quality, fresh, sushi grade fish. The problem is, Cambridge is used to supermarket and chain sushi that comes cheap. Chewy unseasoned rice topped with a wodge of tasteless fish, but it's all some people know. Even I find it difficult to fathom paying £13 for two pieces of sushi, despite knowing what I'm paying for. If it's a special occasion or we're in a large group (I love meals with lots of sharing dishes), I would be happy to come back here.

Will the people of Cambridge pay a premium for high end food or will this get dismissed as "London prices"? Sticks N Sushi is in an area right next to a large mall and across from a theatre, and many walk-ins will be looking for something quick and cheap. I think as long as you understand what you're in for, you're good to go. Given the demographics of central Cambridge (tourists, students, locals on a lunch break or looking to grab a bite before heading out for the evening), I would like to see some set menu deals, or prix fixe because it sounds a lot nicer in French. There are some nice looking sharing plates and set menus on there already, but the price still may deter some people.

Disclaimer: Look, I've been blogging since 1999 (on a Tripod site that might still exist somewhere in cyberspace) and we never had to do this nonsense back then. You'd just go somewhere and if you liked it, you might write about it on your blog. These days, you've got to put a disclaimer at the end of anything resembling a review or nobody will simply trust that you went somewhere and had a good time. Anyway, Sticks N Sushi picked up the bill and we didn't choose our own dishes. Nobody said "Write a good review or else we'll tell everyone that you're an asshole and make you pay for your meal." We genuinely liked it. Okay? Okay.

Preview: Cambridge Gin Laboratory

In addition to my husband, children, and a really good steak, there are two other ways into my heart: gin and Labrador Retrievers. You know those Saint Bernard dogs in cartoons that rescue people stranded in mountains with a small barrel of spirits attached to their collars? If someone could send me a Labrador bearing a G&T, that would be awesome.

I was watching "Great British Menu" the other night and Rich Bainbridge (a Norwich-based chef) wanted to make a Victoria sponge cocktail to go with his dessert course. For this, he created a bespoke vanilla gin. The next thing we know, we're in Will and Lucy Lowe's house in Cambridge where they distill their own gin. (Side note: when people ask about the benefits of working from home, this is the sort of thing I have in mind.) Their Cambridge Distillery works with restaurants such as Alimentum and Morston Hall, businesses, and (if you're very lucky) individuals to create tailored gins. On a busy week, Will says, they can produce up to 60 bottles of gin. They are award-winning, world renowned distillers and I had no idea that this was happening a few miles from my house.

Lucy and Will are in the process of opening the Cambridge Gin Laboratory in central Cambridge, offering gin lovers a lesson in gin history, a behind the scenes look at how it is produced, and the opportunity to blend their own gin. There will be various experiences available, which you will be able to view and book on their site.

 

Will is not only a Master Distiller, he is also studying to become a Master of Wine - a combination that is a rare breed. I asked him how wine tasting compares to gin tasting and he said that it all comes down to detecting flavours. "I even eat foods I don't like just to experience different flavours," he said. I learned more about gin in the few minutes I spoke to Will than I have in the many years I've been drinking it.

One of the gins they produce is a seasonal gin that changes annually depending on what's been growing in their garden or available to forage that particular year. It is, without wanting to sound horribly cliche, Cambridge in bottle. Each vintage's report is a story about what was happening in Cambridge that season. We had the pleasure of tasting three drinks yesterday evening at the Gin Lab: a Cambridge Dry gin and tonic, a Japanese Gin martini, and a summery Basil Smash. You're probably supposed delicately sip and savour it, but I took great mouthfuls and said things like "OHMYGOD THIS IS SO GOOD."

How do Labradors fit into all of this? I have an unapologetic, extremely biased love for Labs and Lucy and Will have a very lovely one called Darcy. She graces the labels and if you visit the distillery, you'll get to meet this gorgeous lady yourself. Darcy is key to Lucy and Will's foraging, as they find botanicals to use in their gin during their walks. Also, it's rather lovely to sip a remarkable gin and tonic while giving her ears a little scratch.

Gin seems to have evolved from your grandmother's tipple to a spirit we are starting to care much more about. My heart sinks a little when I walk into a pub and all they have is Gordon's and tonic out of a nozzle. It's not snobbery, it's the knowledge that there is something so much better out there. To know that there is exceptional gin being produced right here in Cambridge is cause for celebration indeed.

The Cambridge Gin Laboratory aims to open at the end of October. We were invited to visit before the opening, and other than the really amazing G&T, the only compensation I received for my visit was the extreme joy in having gin on a school night. This is not a sponsored post because I don't do that sort of nonsense.

Penang soup

I have a cold, but just a little cold. Not enough to knock me right out, but enough to be really annoying. I can't cough with much vigour because my abdominal muscles (who knew I even had any?) still hurt from my Wednesday workout. I'm doing tiny little lady coughs that aren't actually accomplishing anything, and I sound like an idiot. It's a good thing that I'm working from home today.

My lovely friend Georgia posted a recipe yesterday for a Thai-inspired soup, and it sounded like the perfect remedy for a cold. One of the benefits of having a terrible short term memory is being pleasantly surprised by things I find in my cupboard that I forgot I bought - like a tub of Penang curry paste. I'd just made some chicken stock to help knock out Jack's cold, the weather turned cold and rainy today, so soup was the sensible lunchtime conclusion. I made this recipe up based on what I'd usually add to my standard Thai curry, with a little nod to laksa.

I only needed to feed me today, so I made the full batch of soup but didn't add the noodles, prawns, or lime juice to the pot. I added these to my bowl and ladled the hot stock on top, and put the rest of the soup in the fridge for another day. The paste I used was pretty hot, so not only are my sinuses clearer, I can see through time. (Thank you for that reference, Lisa Simpson.) If you've got leftover chicken or some other form of animal protein, by all means use that instead of prawns.

This isn't even remotely authentic. It's like a thinned out Thai curry on rice noodles instead of rice. I'm not really selling this, am I? It's good. Trust me.

Where are the prawns?

Oh look, there they are.

Thai Penang Curry Soup

(Serves 4)

50g/3 heaped tablespoons Penang curry paste

1 tbsp oil

400 ml/1 tin coconut milk

1 litre/4 cups of chicken or fish stock (unsalted, because you're adding fish sauce for seasoning)

4 "nests" of rice vermicelli (I used the Mama Noodles brand at 45g for each portion)

2 tbsp fish sauce

2 tbsp palm sugar (You can also use dark brown sugar or raw cane sugar)

200g/about 20 king prawns

Juice of 1 lime, or more to taste

Garnishes: bean sprouts, coriander/cilantro, spring onions/green onions, or whatever else strikes your fancy.

Fry the curry paste in the oil over medium heat for about 2-3 minutes. Add the coconut milk and stock, and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down and simmer for 15 minutes or so. 

While the soup is simmering, add boiling water to the vermicelli and let stand according to package instructions. Mine only took three minutes, so you can do this near the end. Drain and set aside.

Add the fish sauce and palm sugar to the soup and stir until the sugar dissolves. Add the prawns* and noodles, stir and heat the soup through for a minute or two. Squeeze the lime juice on top.

Ladle/pour/slop the soup into bowls and top with your garnishes. Say goodbye to your cold.

*If you're using raw prawns, throw them in at the end for about two minutes, and cook until they're thoroughly pink.

Per serving: 499 calories, 23g fat, 24g protein, 48g carbs.

sunday best at gog magog farm shop with guerilla kitchen: Eat Cambridge

I had neither the time nor calorie allowance to go to any of the Eat Cambridge events this year with one exception: Sunday Best at Gog Magog Farm Shop. I couldn't pass up the chance to have food cooked by one of my favourite chefs, and Sunday roast is one of the best things I've discovered since moving to England. It's also one of the trickiest meals to do for mass catering. Jay Scrimshaw not only managed to feed us all with a couple of green eggs and his truck, he gave us one of the best Sunday lunches I've ever had.

I first heard about Jay in 2009 when he and his wife Taffeta ran The Pheasant in Keyston, shortly before their appearance on Gordon Ramsay's "F Word" where they came in second place overall. I went with a couple of friends to check it out before it got hugely popular from their TV appearance, and we loved it. The Scrimshaws eventually moved on, focussing on pop-ups. I spoke to Taffeta about it for an article and had the chance to enjoy Jay's food again at two subsequent pop-ups. Jay now brings his food (specifically, his incredible steamed buns) to Cambridge via his food truck Myrtle and did a special one-off roast dinner as part of the Eat Cambridge food festival.

There are so many things I love about a Sunday roast: the gathering of family around the table after a week of speed eating and uncoordinated meal times, crispy roast potatoes, big hunks of meat, the excuse to have wine in the afternoon. Although I do love making a weekly roast for our family, it's very, very nice when someone else does the job for me every now and then.




We sat in tables of six (or in our case, four adults, two children, and one 5-year-old diva who demanded a scotch egg) in "The Shack", a covered outdoor area next to the cafe. We started with charred leeks with romesco sauce, a dish we devoured at one of Jay's pop-ups a little while ago. There's no photo because we hoovered it all up in minutes. It came with a massive salad with apple, hazelnut, and blue cheese dressing.

The main course was pure heaven. Meat. Lots and lots and lots of meat. Even better, meat with perfectly cooked side dishes: beetroot, apple, and fennel slaw (no filter needed), roast potato cooked in dripping, crispy asparagus, and Yorkshire puddings.

But the meat. We need to talk about the meat. LOOK AT THIS MOTHER LOVIN' MEAT.



Lamb shoulder and pork belly that had a beautifully smoky taste that you can only get with charcoal cooking. I ate way too much meat. I had to go have a little walk outside for a few minutes before I could contemplate dessert.


The sun came out, the kids ran in the fields, and I finished my glass of Sauvignon Blanc listening to some chilled vintage (i.e. songs by people who were alive when I was a kid) tunes. The stress and chaos of a very hectic week melted away. If there weren't other people around who could see me, I probably would have had a little nap.


By the time the pavolva came out, I was actually ready and able to cram a bit more into my stomach. It was like a giant marshmallow slathered in whipped cream and fresh, flavoursome strawberries I've been waiting for since last summer. We all had a huge slice. Then Isla wanted more. And Grandad wanted more. And Jack wanted more. And Isla started to have a hissy fit so Grandad shared his piece with Isla.

This was a wonderfully perfect Sunday and as an added bonus, we came home with a bag full of leftovers*. Thanks Jay and the lovely people at Gogs. I will happily let you take the Sunday roast shift for our family again anytime.

Full photo set here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/lisadurbin/sets/72157653368766202

*(I may have stolen a bit of pork belly from the bag before putting it in the freezer, and I might be feeling a little bit like Mr. Creosote right now.)

banana muffins

I wish I had an interesting story about this recipe, but I don't. Sorry about that. 

I had some very ripe bananas and Jack asked me to make him some muffins to take in his lunchbox. He's not allowed to bring in anything with nuts and I wanted to have some as well, so I went with this nut-free and wheat-free recipe: http://wellnessmama.com/2637/grain-free-banana-bread-muffins/

I didn't add any milk as the batter was runny enough and I used butter instead of coconut oil. And they were really good. The end.

Per muffin: 153 calories, 9g fat, 12g carbs, 6g protein.

frittata 4 dayz

Paul and I can't say the word "fritatta" without sounding like the angry Scottish bloke in this advert:



Which happens quite a lot because I make it often. Also known as a Spanish tortilla (or maybe it's not exactly the same thing; I have no idea), it's like a crustless quiche that you start off on the stove top and finish off in the oven. You can put anything you want in it, but the one I made last week had grilled red peppers, potatoes, onion, cheese, and bacon inside. I cut mine into six pieces, and it was a very handy and delicious breakfast at the office that week. You can eat it hot, cold, or at room temperature. Isn't that lovely? What a great dish you are, fritatta.

Here's how I made mine, but I'm going to tell you again, put what you want inside. Just follow the instructions for cooking and egg quantities, but the rest is up to you. I want you to have a fritatta you can love.

Red Pepper and Potato Fritatta

(Serves 6)

Per serving: 331 calories, 20g fat, 18g carbs, 19g protein.

8 large (US extra large) eggs, at room temperature

100g (about a cup) of grated cheddar cheese

salt and pepper

1 tbsp olive oil

300g (about 3) potatoes, sliced thinly

1 onion, sliced thinly

4 streaky bacon rashers/slices of bacon, diced

Roasted red peppers that I got out of a jar, chopped. Don't judge.

Preheat the grill/broiler.

Heat a large, oven-proof frying pan with the olive oil over medium heat. Whisk the eggs and cheese with a bit of salt and pepper and set aside. 

Add the onions and potatoes to the frying pan, turn down the heat, cover, and simmer gently for about 15 minutes. Poke the potatoes with a knife to see if they're tender. If not, slap the lid back on and simmer for another 5 minutes or so. 

Take the lid off, turn the heat back up to medium-high, and add the diced bacon. Fry until crispy. Add the peppers until they're heated through. 

Pour in the egg mixture, stir it around a bit, and let it cook until you see the sides start to set. Put the frying pan under the grill/broiler until the fritatta goes lovely and brown on top (about 5 minutes.) 

Leave to cool for a couple of minutes before slicing into six pieces. Put it somewhere in the fridge where your husband can't see it because he will eat all of it before you get a chance to take it into the office for breakfast.