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Taste of America

April 13, 2010 in Food Abroad by Paul Allen | 2 comments

A friend has just returned from her first trip to the States – a visit to my one-time home of New York City. Inevitably, she was bowled over by the place. And equally inevitably, one of the big attractions was the food.

Working for a US-based publisher, first in London and then in New York, I always used to get teased by my American colleagues about the quality of British cuisine.

Now, to an extent I concede they had a point. There are some wonderful eating establishments around Britain, and in particular in London. But there are some shocking places as well. And a country that boasts fish and chips as its national dish has to be on dodgy territory.

By contrast, the year I lived in the States – and I did a fair amount of travelling around during that stint – I never had one bad meal. So, grudgingly, I had to admit my colleagues had a point. Indeed, the only complaint I ever had was that the portions were too big.

Where I did have a gripe though was with American chocolate. Hershey’s! Urgh.

According to Wikipedia, Hershey’s uses a secret, more economic process in its milk chocolate that, it is speculated, produces a compound that helps stabilize the milk, but also produces a sour, “tangy” taste. Definitely not one that works for me.

America also sets lower cocoa limits: US government rules specify milk chocolate must have a minimum 10% concentration of chocolate liquor (which, says Wikipedia, is pure chocolate in its liquid form, containing approximately equal amounts of cocoa solids and cocoa butter). By contrast, European Union regulations stipulate a minimum of 25% cocoa solids.

Even the chocolate bars we were used to finding in Britain had been adulterated beyond recognition. And I won’t even get into the comparative merits of Swiss and Belgian chocolate.

In short, this is one area where America can learn a thing or two from its friends in Europe. So I only hope Kraft doesn’t ruin Cadbury’s now it has taken charge.

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Taste for the Multicultural

April 9, 2010 in Food Abroad by Paul Allen | No comments

I have just had my first Thai meal in seven years. Ahh, it’s good to be back in England!

I’ve adored Thai food ever since I spent a couple of months travelling around that beautiful land nearly 20 years ago. Of course, nothing can compare with the variety and richness of flavours you get in the country itself. But I have managed to find some pretty good substitutes among the multitude of Thai restaurants that have been set up around Britain.

So finding ourselves without a Thai restaurant – good or bad – in the corner of Spain to which we moved seven years ago was a big disappointment.

Even more disappointing, there was a dearth of “international cuisine” of pretty much any description. Our town boasted two Chinese restaurants, several pizzerias and some good Catalan-themed places. But that was it.

Don’t get me wrong, Spanish food is great. And being able to buy locally-caught fish from the shop around the corner, or stock up on fresh vegetables from the town square market is a treat. But there was always that hankering for variety.

Even cooking our favourite dishes at home proved tricky. The local supermarkets offered some ingredients for Mexican food and a few jars of ready-made curry sauces, but they are pricey in the extreme. The range of jarred spices available is limited, fresh ones almost non-existent. Even getting fresh coriander proved nigh-on impossible.

By contrast, Britain’s imperial past, and the country’s multi-ethnic diversity that has resulted, means practically every city, town and village offers an array of restaurants and takeaways, while the supermarket shelves are piled high with foodstuffs from all corners of the world. In New York, where we lived for a year at the turn of the millennium, the choice was even more abundant.

Britain is certainly not all great. Still, at least my taste buds are enjoying it.

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Giving Thanks

November 27, 2008 in Uncategorized by Paul Allen | No comments

As if you needed any reminding, it’s Thanksgiving in the States today.

 

It’s a celebration that I always viewed with a degree of envy as a boy growing up in England, something else to look forward to in those interminable months between the end of summer and the fever of Christmas. And what a great tradition – lots of hearty food shared with the family, and then licence to spend the rest of the day lazing in front of the television.

 

So although it felt almost like a betrayal to my nationality to be doing so, when I moved to New York at the turn of the millennium I determined to take part in the festivities. We braved the freezing temperatures with the thousands of other people to watch the inflatables bob down Central Park West, and then returned to our apartment to cook up a passing resemblance to the traditional feast that would be laid on millions of tables across the States.

 

Unfortunately my wife had come down with flu the night before, so it wasn’t the liveliest occasion. But just being off work and sampling the experience in the flesh was good enough.

 

So I can see why for the millions of expat Americans around the world this is a day when homesickness is at its keenest. It is, after all, a peculiarly American holiday that is meant to be shared with your nearest and dearest.

 

Still, while it’s a day to miss home, it’s also a day for gratitude for all the things you do have, right here and right now, wherever that happens to be.

 

And so in some small way I too have been trying to appropriate this tradition by remembering those things for which I can truly be grateful: my wife and daughters, my health and theirs, the love of family and friends, having a roof over my head and food to eat, having the opportunity to live in Spain and experience first hand and in detail a different culture, with all its joys and frustrations.

 

Plenty to give thanks for I feel.

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