If it's not at least a little scary, it's not worth doing.

Trawling through my 'Documents' folder for who knows what, I stumbled across an unfinished bit of writing whose file name caught my eye - "If it's not at least a little scary..." It was a piece I started as part of a joint newsletter-type publication call "The Carrier" which a friend began to help those of us with difficult to define jobs share with friends and family what it is we actually do day to day. For one reason or another, either due to too much work or a bout of writer's block, I never finished it. This is as far as I got - 

If it's not at least a little scary, it's not worth doing. 

This is my mantra for 2013, a constant reminder as to why I left the comfort of a job to venture into the wilderness that is freelancing and pursuing something I’m really passionate about. The other faces that grace the pages of this publication are a constant reminder to me of what people can achieve when they push the boundaries, explore uncharted territory and do the things they love most, and I only hope I can contribute my bit to the entrepreneurial pot. I’ve always done my best work under pressure - rarely starting an essay until the night before it was due at school, getting twice as much done when I’m snowed under than when things are going at an easy pace. 

Have a little fear in your life...

Who knows where my February mind was going next. My August brain will continue it as such - 

The last 8 months have been some of the most difficult, exhausting, challenging, rewarding and incredible of my life. The amount I've learned, the people I've met and the opportunities I've been given are far beyond what I could have ever imagined at the start of the year. In January, I saw The Bream Team as an experiment - a chance to explore the food world, make some connections, gain some experience and learn where I might be able to fit into the food mix. Very quickly, it's become so much more than that. I've been lucky enough to run popups in some pretty amazing spaces (with the Clock Tower at St Pancras probably topping the list, and now a monthly occurrence!), have met some really inspiring people who I now call friends, eaten some amazing food created by said friends, and have even cooked for Delia Smith (afterwards, she asked me for me tart recipe!!!!!)! 

It's also been more emotionally and physically demanding than I ever could have imagined, has made me an incredibly unreliable person to socialise with (not that I would have any money to socialise with...), and time seems to be an endlessly elusive thing. I thank my lucky stars I have friends who continue to invite me to things, regardless of how many times I've had to miss an outing or cancel last minute due to food-related things. Don't get me wrong, I love food and I love working in the food industry, but it's been a completely immersive experience. Being totally immersed in something has it's amazing sides, but it has it's downsides as well. 

As far as the amazing bits go though, I think part of the reason I've been lucky enough to have such opportunities and experiences in such a short time is thanks to this idea of looking for a little sense of fear in everything I chose to do. While I've gotten a lot more comfortable in the kitchen - be it running popups or private catering - every event is a new challenge filled with unexpected hurdles and surprises that are guaranteed to keep me on my toes. The greatest learning experiences I've had have been when agreeing to do events that are one step beyond my past experience - be it for a larger crowd of people, a bespoke menu with unfamiliar dishes, or a time schedule, which 6 months ago, I wouldn't have even fathomed was possible. These types of events usually spin me into a ball of nerves and stress, and find me zigzagging around, worried that this won't turn up or that won't turn out, and yet, by the end of it all, not only do I have such a sense of relief, but I have a new set of skills and 'lessons learnt' under my belt. 

I'm by no means an expert on anything, nor do I claim these to be universal truths, but here are a few of the top things I try to constantly remind myself of - 

• If you decide to jump off the deep end, really go for it - once you've taken that first leap, you may as well keep leaping. 
• Continue to do things a little (or a lot) outside your comfort zone, things that make your stomach tie in a little knot (in a good way). Don't get too comfortable. 
• Do the things you've always wanted to do but never thought you were capable of. 
• Ask for help if you need it - taking a leap into something new can be lonely and overwhelming, and people are more willing to help than you realise. 
• No matter how stressed or busy you get, remember to make time for friends. Even if it's just a 'How are you?' text or a 5 minute phone call, don't lose touch with those that matter most. 
• Be up for anything - help out other people in the industry, make friends and exchange services with others in the same boat, you are all in it together and you'd be amazed at where those exchanges can lead. 

I'm going to stop listing things now, because I don't think I'm old or wise enough to share any more nuggets of potential knowledge at this point. That and this post has gotten to be way too long - extra brownie points if you've made it this far! 

I might be about to take another giant leap, and despite being way out of my depth, if it pulls off, it's sure to be a pretty amazing experience.

Cakes...just because.

Recent baking exploits,
'nuff said.

Bream Team cook for The Point People

 A week after our first Bream Team dining extravaganza, one of our brilliant dinner guests, Cassie Robinson approached us to cook and host a working dinner for the Point People, a group of intelligent, creative people working for various organisations and projects, and interested in the grey spaces of collaboration. We were chuffed to bits that not was someone asking for us to cook for them, but that they were actually willing to hire us for the job! Last thursday, we hosted said dinner at the Deptford Project, an amazing place whose centre point is an old rail car-turned-cafe. Compared to our rather extravagant first dinner, this time around we created a paired down, picnic-inspired menu in the hopes of rustling up some summer spirit as rain and wind pelted the windows of the converted rail car that was our dining room.

To get the Point People's working dinner off on the right foot, we served up a 2x4 of hors d'oeuvres - melon wrapped in prosciutto with agave nectar and black pepper, and sauteed halloumi with fresh sage and warm apple, finished with a squirt of lime for them to nibble as they got down to business.

Compared to our last dinner, which consisted of five courses in which nearly everything needed to be prepared moments before serving, we made our job a lot more manageable for a weekday meal by creating a mainly cold main, which was mostly prepared before we arrived (this turned out to be a good call, as it actually freed us up to sit and chat with our diners, instead of roasting away in the kitchen). 

Tom working the double sautee

Flower pot bread

So after a bit of oven time for our last bits of the main course, we were ready to plate up -

teacups of gazpacho

a duck, pork, and pistachio terrine with pistachio pesto, apple, and caperberries

watercress salad with lemon mustard vinaigrette

honey roasted ham

a spinach and smoked salmon tartlet

malted flower pot bread loaves

and for the vegetarian and wheat-free of the group, a summer vegetable gratin.

As we hurried the remnants of the main course away, we prepared for our extra special dessert. Why extra special? Well, Tom is currently working on a project called Meet Market - a project aimed to help train young people in the art of entrepreneurship through creating and running their own market stalls. One of the young people currently working with them is an especially talented young woman named Rav, who is in the midst of setting up her own cupcake business. We asked her to supply the main part of our dessert, and boy did she deliver (I highly recommend her to anyone looking for cupcakes in East London)! 

Aren't these stunning!?

To go along with Rav's beautiful and delectable cakes (of course we had to test a couple earlier in the day...), we made homemade peach and lavender ice cream and rose salt meringues, all of which went down a treat. 

It was a tremendous first venture into some type of catering, and the response we got was pretty overwhelming. A huge thanks to Cassie for giving us a chance. 

The more of this I do, the bigger a buzz I feel from each one, not to mention the bubbling anticipation to plan the next one. 

Speaking of next ones, what are you doing the last weekend in July?.... 

Nice Vol 2.: Eating Out

So while a fair amount of cooking and eating was done in our airy, modern apartment, one can't go to Provence without testing the local food fair. I must say that in general, the food didn't blow me away quite as much as I'd anticipated, but still, with fresh, beautiful ingredients that come so naturally to the area, even the mid range meals weren't too shabby.

Moules Marinière

Canard w/ honey 

Nougat Glacée - quickly to become my new dessert of choice

Lots of gelato consumed (and an ecstatic brother...)

Salade niçoise - bien sure!

Monaco Ice Cream (before I lost my fortune at the casino...)

True seafood, and my first oyster

Beautiful salmon tartare

More gelato...

Medaillon de boeuf aux champignons

MORE nougat glacée... (I also happen to be eating nougat right now.)

By far the best meal of the trip!
Poached monkfish with a coconut lemongrass sauce,
vanilla fondant potatoes and almost melting vegetables
From Papayou - highly recommend!!

Mango and pineapple crumble

So there's a whirlwind of food! It would be a bit tedious to go through them all in detail, but needless to say, we ate well.

Nice Vol. 1 - Eating In

I went on holiday to Nice, France the other week with my family - the first time since Christmas that we were all on the same continent, and we descended upon the South of France all very much in need of a respite from our respective bustling lives.

The view from our micro balcony, not too shabby

My goals for the week were simple:
- Enjoy being with my family
- Successfully read a whole book
- Lounge on the beach

and of course,

- Indulge in as much southern French cuisine as I could handle in a 7 day trip

I'm delighted to say all were accomplished (finishing not one, but TWO books during the week), but particular esteem must be given to the final goal - we ate, drank, slurped, devoured and gorged ourselves on everything in our midst.

I should also mention that for our last two holidays, my family and I have come to an arrangement - on meals in, I do the cooking, and they do the cleaning. It's a pretty brilliant situation in my opinion, as I get to play with local ingredients and talk my time and enjoy the slow, lilting rhythm that is vacation cooking. The kind of cooking where time is not matter, vegetables are chopped in time with the chirping (ok squawking in our case) of birds, and creativity with your limited holiday rental kitchen supplies makes for interesting cooking methods.

Because this was France in the spring time, I nearly melted when I spotted the local produce - varieties of heirloom tomatoes I haven't seen since working on an organic farm in uni and in quantities I'd never seem before, delicate courgettes with the flowers still attached and blooming (more on that later) - peaches and strawberries that make my mouth water just thinking about their supple flesh. Right, getting carried away, needless to say, with ingredients like these, there was little need for complexity with the week's meals. Between the market, our butcher just downstairs (who also had some of the best goat's cheese I have ever tasted), a little wine merchant down the street, and a boulangerie around the corner, we were set for the week.

Rather than drag on with over-indulgent memories of each individual meal, I'll just show you the summary -

Real tomatoes

Warm green bean and shallot salad, lots of cheese and
saucisson, and my brother reading in the background 

Steak, roasted sweet potato wedges, and green beans w/ red wine jus

Peach and blueberry tart

Shit load of roasted vegetables

Saucisson and some of the best damn goats cheese you'll find

A resurrection of a Bream Team classic with a twist -
peach and almond tart w/ apricot glaze

German and tiger striped in one bowl, heavenly

Remember those courgette flowers? I fried them.

Baby courgette and shallot quiche
(my first quiche as well!)

Leftovers on the last day

These ingredients, prepared simply (olive oil, balsamic vinegar, s&p and thyme was the contents of my cupboard), and accompanied by bread, cheese, meat and wine created by local craftsmen who do what they do best made for meals that required little input from me to keep the family happy and clearing their plates. Its amazing what a difference real, quality ingredients make, and how difficult they are to find, even in a foodie metropolis like London.

I'll be dreaming of those German striped tomatoes for months to come...

(Stayed tuned to Vol. 2 - Eating Out shortly for what we dined on outside the flat...)

A Night to Remember

Prep time (all photos courtesy of the talented Barry Craig)

Apologies for the delay in finishing my supper club story, the time to contemplate, mull over, and basque in the glowing feeling that it brought hasn't made itself available until now. 

So, where was I? Prep - I don't wish to bore you with the intricacies of slicing paper thin pieces of beetroot to save them from a nearly untimely end, or the countless scales that Tom scraped off our lovely namesake, but needless to say there was plenty of chopping, boiling, rolling, filet-ing, and raucous laughter during those few hours before our guests arrived. Barry snapped plenty of shots of our prep time, so here's a smattering of action shots for your viewing pleasure...

Every good chef needs a glass of wine and an
iphone in their hand...

Hard at work frying things (I think)

I may or may not have arranged everything on the
counter by ingredient and course order...

The moments flew by and before we knew it, our first guests were arriving. They were greeted with a hug and a teacup cocktail of Bison Grass vodka, sparkling elderflower and cucumber and the sounds of the evening's soundtrack. Mingling in the entrance and watching us cook was somewhat daunting, so we soon pulled back the curtains to reveal their dining area for the night... 

Our found wood, mismatched chairs, cutlery and china came together thanks to some brilliant photo studio lighting by our guardian angel Barry. With a centrepiece of strewn ropes, fresh flowers, and candle filled jars, we did our best to set the makeshift mood for the night's culinary antics. 

The room filled, our guests chow down

The Menu

A little hand-drawn pictogram menu by yours truly

Right, enough faffing about, let's get down to the grub. The kitchen was a different world to the dining room, as Tom and I whirled around the space in a sort of pas de deux, cranking out five courses at what felt like warp speed (and helped by a shot or two of Bison Grass vodka along the way...). Miraculously, there were no major faux pas, the food came out relatively on time, and we even managed to make it look decent (although sadly don't have any pictures of the food itself - definitely a lesson for next time!). With five courses on the table, our guests scarfed down on:

First

Seared scallops with roasted beetroot and asparagus, crispy bacon and basil pesto

Second

Pan fried sea bream with sauteed shaved fennel and grilled oranges

Main

Duck three ways - confit, honey roasted and ravioli, with roasted butternut squash puree, sauteed kale and wild garlic, and a lingonberry jus

Dessert

Almond and fresh fig tartlets with honey and clotted cream

Surprise

Home smoked cheese with red onion marmalade and buttermilk rye bread

I'm not sure how we did it, but for the first time, we delivered 5 courses to 14 people with only a little bit of spilled duck fat along the way (our kitchen became a veritable ice rink half way through...). 

During the cheese course, we were able to sit down briefly with our guests, raise a glass and thank them profusely for being our first guinea pigs in this whole supper club experience. We also asked them to nominate someone they thought deserved a feast, and the nominee will be invited to a future dinner to celebrate them being a great person!

As the guests left and clean up began, the buzz of the evening set in and by the time we wandered home at half past 1am, my legs barely able to carry my body anymore, I still managed to feel like I was floating. The whole experience was even more exhilarating than I anticipated - it was the feeling you get when you've exerted yourself beyond the point you thought yourself capable of, beyond the ability to think, until your muscles and memory simply take over (sorry, I'm getting over-zealous...). Needless to say, the whole thing was brilliant and well worth the severe exhaustion I felt for the next few days afterwards. 

We definitely learned some things from this first supper club - we will probably go for slightly simpler menus in the future, avoid having to lug a huge piece of wood up four flights of stairs, and interact with our guests better (we lost ourselves in the kitchen this time), but I'm still amazed that we managed to turn a chance idea into a real-life, successful supper club in just over 2 weeks. 

The best bit? This appears to be the first supper club of many. We've already been asked to host a dinner party for our of our guests (!!!), and we have plenty of crack pot ideas for future dinners. So watch this space, it seems The Bream Team are only just getting started...