the chapter in which snow white eats the apple.

I think its high time I told you all a tale about the lovely dinner I've been hinting at for weeks now, when I went around to Prince Charming's house to play. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...
Sadly he brought along his noble steed and thus I didn't have him all to myself, but I was nevertheless treated to an evening of utterly delicious food, which was most therapeutic after an afternoon of torment, spent clearing up a bottle of red wine which I smashed, in true Eloise-fashion, all over the floor. I don't suffer from dyspraxia, I hasten to add, I'm just really clumsy.

So Prince Charming was presented instead with a meagre bar of Green and Blacks, a poor replacement for the wine, but he and his noble steed were also provided with jokes for the whole evening, and it was pointed out to me that I was in heels, and shouldn't touch anything, there were sockets around the room, and Oh! Look! stairs...

Prince Charming also added that he'd done a risk assessment before I arrived and said that if I wanted to enter the kitchen I was going to have to wear a high-vis jacket and a hard hat at all times. Or wrap me in cottonwool. I wasn't impressed either way.

Sitting safely on my chair away from anything breakable, I was duly served three of the most delicious courses I have ever been entreated to in this City: pea and rosemary (flower) mousse, venison casserole, parsnip puree, caramelised beetroot and vanilla (and star anise, blegh) pannacotta, served with sweet pesto, crystallised basil leaves and strawberry coulis.

It sounds fantastic, and believe me, it tasted every bit as good as it sounds. We started off with the pea and rosemary soup (in his extensive gardens Prince Charming has a rosemary bush), in mousse format - a new experience for me, chilled, and sprayed with a super-expensive impressive nozzle into my teacup! Visually impressive, palest jade green, studded with amethyst coloured rosemary flowers. It was almost a shame to eat it.

Almost.

I had no trouble daintily wolfing down my first serving, and didn't turn down seconds. The Prince and his steed had a fight with a sprig of rosemary and the steed received his dinner in a nosebag from then on.

We were then served an utterly beautiful casserole, stewed to within an inch of its life, the venison melting, and the blackberries and chesnuts were an added treat. Combined with a parsnip puree of petit filous creaminess, and sweet, caramelised beetroot, the steed keeled over in bliss, and I nearly joined him. The beetroot was allegedly a worthy adversary in the kitchen, refusing to yield to the prince, enduring torture at 200 degrees celsius, an hours boiling, before finally succumbing to his ministrations. His lordship, Gordon Ramsay, was sent an angry messenger forthwith, pending poor instruction and unnecessary toil on behalf of Prince Charming.

We sat back, post-dinner, in contented bliss, almost full and warm with sleepy fingers and toes. It had been spellbinding, and we still had dessert to go!

And so it was, laid out like a fairytale, a triumphant pannacotta, accompanied by strawberry coulis, sweet pesto, and crystallised basil leaves. Vanilla and star anise pannacotta, glorious and glistening and delicious though it was however, seemed to have adverse effects on me, given my allergy to star anise - generally met with displeasure by my stomach. Innocent of the star anise, however, I polished off pudding, and then wondered why I felt sick for several hours afterwards.

Despite my aversion to star anise, I remain indebted to Prince Charming for such an exquisite meal and wonderful company. Even his steed was mellowed by the wine and fine food, and the evening was spent in good company and high spirits, and we staggered home happily ever after.

Love,
Eloise
xxx

Campo de' Fiori

Because food is gorgeous - please click on the photo to see it in all its glory. Rome '08. I have so much to talk about in some up and coming posts! These chiefly comprise of an utterly divine dinner I was treated to (think rosemary flowers, summer, venison with the most exquisite parsnip puree, pannacotta and sweet pesto and you're almost there...) and a pistachio korma I will experiment with tomorrow for some dear friends of mine who are all coming for birthday tea! My birthday, actually, but I think it's perhaps appropriate for a foodie to celebrate occasions by cooking for others. How is the delightful month of May treating everyone?

Eloise xxx

" and drink very good tea out of a thin Worcester cup of a colour somewhere between apricot and pink..."

So today, lovely people, I have a few indulgent recipes. I've had ever such a busy week, my assignments are starting to rear their heads, I've handed in essays, been wined, dined, and a disaster in the kitchen and am generally winding up the end of the academic year in sleep deprived style!! I have five tests and an exam coming up soon - so forgive me if posts slow down (again...oops...) Anyway! Thursday saw me hosting a movie night with some gorgeous friends, and, ever the opportunist, I spotted the chance to experiment with popcorn. Now, this was a mixed bag, I must say, as the first sachet of popcorn set fire to the microwave (shhhh!), and the second two needed maximum attention whilst popping but otherwise behaved themselves. To cut my prattling short, we would have had buttered popcorn, chocolate and chilli popcorn and Nigella Lawson's "party" popcorn, but in the end, the buttered popcorn became more of an acrid mess that spent its night on my kitchen windowsill, cooling down.

You need:

(cheat's version)
popcorn, in sachets, microwaved. And/or, set fire to.

or (virtuous cooks' version)
two handfuls of popcorn kernels per recipe,
wok oil

Place oil and kernels in a pan over a high heat. Put the lid on and hold on tight - once popcorn has slowed down its popping to roughly two seconds between pops, remove from heat. Don't remove the lid during popping though, unless you want to lose an eye in a very ignominious fashion.
For chocolate chilli popcorn:
popped corn
250g dark chocolate
100ml double cream
sprinkling of chilli flakes
Melt your chocolate (in microwave or otherwise), and stir in your double cream. Tip both chocolate and popcorn into a large bowl and then mix with your hands - I promise there is no other way of doing this, you just have to get messy. Once popcorn is coated in chocolate cream mixture, shake in your chilli flakes and mix again. It's a gorgeous combination of flavours and the chilli gives the chocolate a subtle kick, and the cream prevents the chocolate from solidifying and sticking together in clumps. It was gorgeously addictive, although I recommend you supply your guests with napkins as it makes for messy eating - and your friends might think that you work better as a serviette instead.
For "party" popcorn, hence referred to as spiced popcorn:
lashings of parika, cumin, cinnamon
2 teaspoons fine salt (unless popcorn is already salted, in which case, skip this step)
2-4 teaspoons caster sugar depending on preference.

This is perhaps more inspired by Nigella's party popcorn than derived from it, as she does over complicate it with things like melted butter, and so forth, but the flavours are gorgeous and the marriage or sweet and salted flavours with the spices is a rather more-ish combination! It doesn't take a genius to work out, to be honest, just shake everything over the popcorn in bowl and mix thoroughly (again, your paws are best for this one).

I've always had trouble with just salted or sweet popcorn being a little bit boring - so here you have the above two variations, tried and tested by a fussy bunch. The proof was in the clean bowls I had at the end of the night.

My next recipe for you is a breakfast indulgence, perfect for Sunday mornings in bed. I will confess to scoffing it this morning for breakfast but I think it makes an excellent comfort food regardless of the time of day.

You need:
4 slices of soft white bread (although I used walnut loaf as it was to hand)
two handfuls of blueberries
1 very ripe banana - smushes better
shakings of cinnamon
2 tsp golden syrup
butter
double cream

In a bowl, mash your blueberries and banana with sprinklings of cinnamon and the golden syrup and then spread the mixture onto one slice of bread. Squish down with the other slice of bread to form a sandwich and then fry in the butter until golden. Repeat. Drizzle with double cream and then scoff. Blueberries and bananas are pretty much a match made in heaven, the golden syrup and the subtle warmth of the cinnamon sweeten them slightly, and the mushy filling inside the hot, crispy bread is simply gorgeous. Do try this one. I was grinning like a fool whilst I ate it! It's actually a variation of a previous French Toast recipe, just a little pared down for quick cooking.

I hope you all have lovely lazy Sundays.
Love,
Eloise xxx