Sunday Chicken Part 2

Hector eating fish fingers on the beach

Hector is a texture fiend - he loves anything crunchy or with a crispy coating. He particularly loves fish fingers, but I do worry how much salt and other things are added, when we are away from home. When I made Chicken Kiev, I was left with the inner fillets from the chicken breast and some extra breadcrumbs, so I made chicken patties, with just five ingredients.

Ingredients (makes about 4 small patties)

250g chicken meat

1 egg

1 tbsp coriander

1 tbsp polenta

1 tbsp bread crumbs

Method

1. Place the chicken meat and coriander in a food processor and pulse for 10 seconds. Scrape the sides down and pulse further if necessary, but keep the texture rough.

2. Add the egg and pulse for 5 seconds. The pattie mix will be quite runny.

3. Add the polenta until the pattie mix is stiff but remains sticky.

4. Take 2 tbsp of mix and form it into a pattie.

5. Flatten the patty and dip both sides in the breadcrumbs.

6. Fry on both sides for 3 minutes (depends how thick the patties are).

If you don't have a food processor, you can chop the chicken by hand and mix in the egg and polenta with a spoon and mixing bowl.

Baby MasterChef

Tasting and stirring

To celebrate his daddy getting an apron as one of the Final 12 contestants in Masterchef, Hector's nanna (my mum) made him an Masterchef apron from a pillow case! She even did the embroidery herself - it's a little bit wonky, but it's brilliant all the same. Thank you, Nanna! Here he is at his cooking station!

Hector's Christening

Hector was baptised in Withington on Sunday. Jemma was christened in the very same church when she was six years old and we were married there more than twenty years later, during a brief respite in the 2007 summer floods.

Reverend John Beckett, who married us, again lead the service. When he baptised Hector's cousin Beth, the service finished with an unaccompanied spiritual song ("Walk with me, for the journey is long"). On Sunday, the final hymn was less memorable for its lyrics (for me at least, because I didn't have a hymn book) than by the fact that it was accompanied by a recording of African drums because the organist had to get to the next service in the neighbouring village.

Hector was resplendent in a lace christening gown that was worn by both his uncle James and his grandfather Guy when they were christened. Not the most masculine, but a beautiful antique garment.

Almost as historic was the top tier of our wedding cake, which had survived in the Rookers' pantry for approaching four years. It was made and decorated by Hector's nanna, but because of our indifference to marzipan, the rich contents had leached into the icing and it needed a makeover. In the absence of any iced cygnets, an Easter chick joined the two swans on the top. We hope that the brandy has done its job in preserving the cake, when we come to taste it at Easter.

Finally, here is a picture of what the Easter bunny might look like.

Vegetarian

This week, Hector first tried solid food. He had a couple of spoonfuls of baby rice on Saturday and Sunday. I'm not entirely convinced he wouldn't have preferred his bottle of milk, judging by the fact that much of it ended up in his eyebrows.

On Sunday evening, I got out my newest kitchen accessory. Jemma doesn't normally approve the acquisition of kitchen gadgets but this one is a food processor that can puree baby food. I considered Magimix and Kitchen Aid, but in the end chose a British manufacturer, Kenwood (named after the company founder, Ken Wood). It can blend, chop, slice, knead, mix and grate. It can make freshly squeezed orange juice or pressed apple juice. It comes with a mill that can grind coffee, herbs and spices and a blending jug for making soups and smoothies. I quite like it.

So Hector has now had pureed carrots. He isn't the only one on a vegetarian diet. On Shrove Tuesday, Jemma and I made pancakes and discussed what we would give up for Lent. Jemma gave up Chocolate, Crisps and Cakes. I have given up Meat, Coffee and packaged chocolate (there was a tub of Nutella that I couldn't finish with my pancakes).

I do enjoy meat, but I have been reading a book called Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. Although not entirely compelling, it has made me reconsider the amount of meat I eat. I realised that too many omnivores now take meat for granted when I read that Americans eat 150 times as much chicken as they did 80 years ago.

So far, I'm not missing meat. We'll see how I feel by Easter but I certainly won't be touching any chicken wings or hamburgers ever again.

Masterchef Series 7

A couple of weeks ago I was ready to jump on the bandwagon of food critics and bloggers panning the new format Masterchef. This is the first time that I have watched the series from the beginning. I tend to get more interested as the competition progresses, which is the opposite to X Factor, where I only find the early audition episodes entertaining.

I found the first two episodes incredibly irritating: poor editing and shameless plagiarism of X Factor (sob stories and family hugs) and The Apprentice (shots of the contestants marching). With hardly any focus on the food or cooking, little in the way of judging and over-egged dramatic pauses to create suspense, I came close to turning off the second episode. I'm sure that some of the contestants that were dropped could have done very well in later stages and I'm sure that there are still one or two there that should never have got this far.

Episode three (the egg invention test) continued to disappoint with more infuriating "fast forward" editing which prevented you from getting to know the contestants or see their food. The weird Masterchef obession with the Women's Institute continued as some nobody swanned around only to add nothing to the judging of the roast dinners.

Episode four was better. There was more focus on the food and the previous finalists were able to deliver interesting and added value comments about the food. Episode five (the Highland Games) was a good test of organisation, team work and mass catering but a little unfair to knock someone out on the basis of that their team lost. I don't think Sara (the Italian nurse) is going to be a finalist, but who could expect burly Scotsmen to choose seafood when there is beef and venison on offer.

Last night's episode was more compelling. We are now getting to the stage where you know the contestants' personalities better. There was still some irritating fast forward editing in the middle but this was a real test of food knowledge and inventiveness that brought some unexpected results. Alexis Gauthier brought some gravitas to the judging panel and did so with sincerity and French charm. I would have backed Alice to do something good with her favoured duck, but she was left with slug eyes after crying over her disappointing showing. Kennedy is clearly a good cook but was disappointed with his "plate of slop". What I like about him is that he doesn't go for the cliched sound bites that some of the earlier contestants proferred. He has good attitude and doesn't take himself too seriously.

Where do you stand on the new series of Masterchef?

Pheasant plucker's son

Hector in a Christmas present from his Grandma

We had our first dinner party of the new year last night with Chompo, Poth, Ben and Rom. We put aside diets and booze-free resolutions to enjoy food, conversation and competition (boys v girls Trivial Pursuit). The evening began with Chompo showing me how to remove the breasts and legs from a pheasant without plucking it. Pheasant casserole this weekend!

Ben brought a jar of chilli chutney, which we tried with both cheddar and Philadelphia. On Boxing Day, his family engage in a competition to produce the finest chutneys and condiments, including horseradish sauce and gentlemen's relish.

Our main course was lamb tagine, which I had cooked on Bank Holiday Monday, served with cous cous and steamed leeks. Like any slow cooked stew, it tasted better after a couple of days in the refrigerator. Jemma livened up the cous cous with some spring onions, dried apricots and pine nuts. Poth produced lemon tart with raspberries and double cream for dessert. Then we retired to the sitting room for coffee,  tea from Orange Pekoe in Barnes and dark chocolate with lavender, which Rom had found in Islington. I never even knew you could eat lavender. The girls won Trivial Pursuit on a Sports question! How can Michael Phelps be the answer to a 6 question?

A good dinner party

It was with mixed emotion that Hector moved out of his Moses basket and into his own cot. We are glad that he is growing but moving into the cot also meant that he had to move out of our room. It was nice to look back at photos of him during the early weeks when there was space in the Moses basket for him and a teddy bear.

Hector's first night in his cot, aged 12 weeks

Fortunately he has inherited his mother's ability to fall sleep anywhere and he is pretty reliable in sleeping between 7pm and 10pm, allowing us to enjoy our evenings. Last night we took him to the Lawson's for a dinner party. He slept in his pram while we enjoyed Alex and Claudia's hospitality. The food at their dinner parties is always very good, very satisfying but also interesting an unusual. They never serve hackneyed dinner party dishes that are easily prepared in advance nor home versions of dishes that are familiar on restaurant menus.

To start, we had Bloody Mary soup, served hot, with a good bit of chilli heat, cracked black pepper and chopped celery leaves, which gave a nice aromatic lift. Next came an Italian chicken dish, served with rice and green beans. It was bit like a chicken cacciatore, but lighter and served with gremolata (lemon zest, garlic and parsley) which gave the dish a lovely fragrance. Cacciatore means "hunter" in Italian and refers to the way a hunter might make a stew out of chicken or rabbit - with onions, tomatoes, red peppers, herbs and often some white wine.

I tend to prefer the savoury dishes, perhaps because for years I was allergic to eggs, which ruled out most desserts. Dessert consisted of caramelised, baked bananas, served with thick double cream and ground amarreti biscuits. It was delicious, although Claudia and I thought the texture would be even better if the biscuits were hand crushed rather than blended. I would like to try a version where you cross banana tarte tatin with the crunchiness of a creme brulee. Perhaps it can be my new strumble, but I don't know what to name it. Suggestions in the comments box below, please!

Hector, 11 weeks old

Darbo bought Hector a Christmas pudding hat!

Hector, 2 months old

I wasn't sure that I would enjoy the first few months of parenthood that much. People warned me that because new born babies don't do much, there isn't any interaction to mitigate the sleepless nights. I thought I wanted the stork to drop off a ready made baby - about a year old, one that sleeps through the night, scrambles around and wants to laugh and play. My friend Charlie, who had a daughter, Poppy, a few weeks before Hector, summed it up nicely in an email to me:

"Isn't it funny sharing your house with someone who can't talk but cries, keeps you up all night, demands attention, contributes nothing to housework and instantly triples the washing load. It doesn't sound all that appealing but somehow you still love them more than anything in the world."

Our friend Chompo went one further and declared it "Even better than winning Cuppers" (the inter-college rugby cup competition). Enough gush, here is a photo of Hector at 2 months old (or 9 weeks). Fortunately, he is awake more, smiles and babbles away when he is content. Jemma was even reluctant to put him in "proper, grown up" clothes - we got used to him wearing his little suits. However, we couldn't resist putting him in Sunday best, after receiving this lovely tank top. Please let me know if you see a similar one in a few sizes up, so that I can get a matching one for Christmas.

Hector, 9 weeks old

Eyes and ears

I would like to build a portfolio of restaurant reviews so would be grateful if you act as my eyes and ears by alerting me to new restaurants opening up.

Speaking of eyes and ears, but entirely unrelated to food, here is a nursery rhyme for my friend James who has just had his first son. It's pretty amusing in a non ironic way. Check out all the different sets and costumes! Hopefully Oscar will be smiling in the week before Christmas and singing him this nursery rhyme will help! Hector loves it! Congratulations James and Sophie!

Hector, aged 8 weeks

Hector, 7 weeks old

After a bath

In his pyjamas, ready to settle in for an evening of X Factor

Phileas Fogg

Hector in air balloon suit, 6 weeks old

Here is a photo of Hector wearing a new baby grow. Whenever I see air balloons I have a wave of nostalgia. When I was a young boy in the late 80s and early 90s, there was a brand of snack foods called Phileas Fogg. Like Monster Munch, the brand has been revived to find a new generation of consumers.

I remember them as a special occasion brand because they were priced at a premium and only available in off-licenses and small independent shops, rather than supermarkets. I looked forward to when my parents were having friends round because Phileas Fogg's Mignon Morceaux would often come out!

I had never read Around the World in Eighty Days but the packaging was exciting and mystical to a young boy. It featured a cartoon of Phileas Fogg in an air balloon and a letter from him explaining where in the world he found the snack, and the adventures he had trying to acquire it.

If you remember the original snacks, take the poll on the right to vote for your favourite.

Hector, 1 month old

Hector, 4 weeks old

Sparko, in his duck suit, after roast lamb chez Neil

Hector, 3 weeks old

Hector, 2 weeks old

A big yawn, in his new duck outfit

Hector, 6 days old

Hector, 2 days old

Sporting scratch mitts

Hector, 1 hour old