by Martin Field

Stilton spread
Take a piece of Stilton, say 300 grams, bring it to room-temperature. Put it in a blender with a squeeze of lemon juice (a teaspoon more or less), 50ml extra virgin olive oil, 50 grams softened (but not melted) unsalted butter and 50ml of thick (not thickened) sour cream. Blend until just combined but not to the mushy stage. Refrigerate. Delicious on toast, in canapes etc. Keeps well in the fridge. Use same proportions for larger or smaller amounts of cheese.

Fridge inverter
The good lady wife wanted to lash out on a new fridge, one of those newfangled setups that have the freezer at the bottom instead of on top.

I countered with a brilliant, money-saving idea; suggesting that we could achieve the same effect by turning the old fridge upside down.

As the atmosphere between us suddenly turned frigid, I knew I was onto something.

Sunday evening we invited our winemaking friends Laurent Barrera and Emmanuelle Dupéré and as usual we ended up with quite a lineup… you can see some pics on their own Nowatlover blog

Starting with Champagne “Les Rachais”, the new cuvée from my friend Francis Boulard of Champagne Raymond Boulard, one of those wines that act as terroir enhancers, you have never tasted anything like it, my impression is iodine, salt, seawater, oysters with lemon juice, some people have a hard time with it, I just love it, end so does everyone at the table, made from his biodynamic vineyard (undergoing conversion), I would love to actually try it with oysters…

Next, four bottles get served blind at the same time, we are told that one is a very expensive super-something wine worth over 60 Euro, and that they all have something in common.

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by Martin Field

Splashing around at St Andrews Beach in brain-boiling 40C degree temperatures, during the Australia Day holiday week, I came over all strange. Despite the liberal application of aged, slightly rancid coconut oil, with an SPF rating of minus 25, my skin turned the colour of a two year old Beaujolais – a sort of sickly brown-edged red – and I felt faint.

After a relatively short wait (less than a day) in the local medical centre, the doc asked me what was the trouble. I described my symptoms. ‘Were you drinking?’ she asked. ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘Plenty of water.’

‘If water was any good,’ she said, ‘we’d have it running through our veins instead of blood. I’m sorry to say you are severely debeerated.’ ‘What does that mean?’ I asked naively.

‘Debeeration,’ she explained, ‘Is a condition that occurs when a person has not consumed sufficient brewed liquid. Deprived of essential complex alcohols and other associated vitamins and minerals, the victim’s system will then start to fail, their muscles will melt down and eventually they may die.’

‘But along with water I’ve also been drinking a lot of light and mid-strength beers.’ I countered in mitigation.

‘Aha! There’s your problem.’ she said. ‘They’re not actually beer. If I may speak scientifically, they are a sort of no-frills substitute for the real thing. In laypersons’ terms, they are the tragic equivalent of drinking instant coffee.’

Horrified and chastened at her insight into my condition, I replied plaintively, ‘Please Doc, what am I to do? I place myself entirely in your hands.’

‘Well, first we’ll have to urgently rebeerate you. I don’t think you’re that far gone that we need to put you on a beer drip but I recommend the immediate consumption of half a dozen stubbies… of ice-cold, full-strength, amber fluid. After that I want you to drink at least two litres of genuine beer daily, avoid imitation beer and strenuous activity and come back and see me in a month.’

With this she wrote out a prescription listing a number of local and imported ales, advising me, ‘Unfortunately these are not subsidised but they should be available on discount at your local drugstore*.’

‘But Doc. What about driving? You know it’s illegal for me to drink and drive.’

‘Do you want to live or do you want to drive? she snapped. ‘You clearly have a problem identifying life priorities!’ ‘Next.’

*liquor store.

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