Gaz Cooks Crap

Oh, hello! As John 'Imagine really is a pile of overrated horse shit' Lennon once blurted out between bouts of being a tiresome hippy arse, "And so this is Christmas, and what have you done?". Well, I don't know what you've done, John (the fact you've been dead for 37 years notwithstanding), but I thought it's well past time we  (or rather, I - it's not like I have help. Though arguably I might need help of a different sort) cut through all the usual boring guff issued from TV chefs this time of year. It's all staged dinner parties with sweaty fake friends because it was filmed back in August, smug claims about the best way to cook a turkey that still end up with it tasting like a desiccated  bookmark, and everyone claiming their roast potatoes are so crispy that all the windows in a 5-mile radius shatter from the crunch when you eat one. No thanks. Instead, I think it's time for a full festive menu that really reflects the true meanin

Hello! Sorry for not posting for a bit, but I had to take some time out while I got a new kitchen. By which I mean a different kitchen in a new house, as we sold our old house and - as is traditional, given I don't live in a yurt or similar - the kitchen was included as part of the deal and apparently I'm not allowed to go back there and mess it up anymore. Which is a shame, as that means I have to clean up after myself in my new one rather than leaving it in the old one for the new owner. Bah. Well I say my 'new' kitchen, but it isn't really. It's new to me, of course, but ironically the cooker in it is this: really really old. So old some of the numbers have actually worn off the knobs, so as if my cooking wasn't bad enough it now has an entirely unwanted element of surprise to it as well - up to and including: 'Is the gas actually on?' [presses ignition] ... 'PTHOOOOMPH!' '...yes, yes that was on.' [puts out eyebrows] Un

Oh man, the hipsters are going to love this week's attempt. Why? Well hold your horses, Susan - if I come straight out and tell you, you'll have no big reveal for the end and no reason to stick around. Although now I've said that I tell you at the end you could of course just scroll to the end to find it, so I've probably just shot myself in the foot there. Anyway, what is it that they'll love but I'm not going to tell you why? Well it's a cheesecake - but not just any cheesecake. No, this cheesecake is the first step in a transatlantic fightback against the encroaching horror that is the Americanism 'mac 'n' cheese'. Don't get me wrong - I'm not some grammar Nazi who gets stroppy if someone doesn't say 'Whom is at one's door, Mother?'. This irritation comes purely from logic: because it's not 'mac 'n' cheese', is it. It's macaroni cheese. That's the name of the recipe, so that's what

If, like me, you have a children or childrens, or a broken telly that only shows Channel 5 (shudder), you'll probably have come across an excellently amusing kid's show called Ben & Holly's Little Kingdom. It's by the same people who make Peppa Pig, but is considerably better - mainly because regardless of it being for kids it's one of those shows that starts preposterous and gets progressively more silly and unhinged as time goes on. You know - like Father Ted. Or Question Time. Anyway, one of the characters in B&H LK (which I've just inadvertently realised looks like some sort of special brand of fags when abbreviated) is Nanny Plum, who is renowned as an excellent cook. An excellent cook who, in one episode, makes a load of terrifyingly stodgy recipes. I could explain the plot of the episode in question in detail, but to be honest if you haven't seen it it'd be much easier if you just watched a copy of it that I absolutely haven't

A few years ago, we decided to try cooking a duck for dinner. And before you dash off to alert the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds of a potential avian misdemeanour, I don't mean by this that we went out, clonked a passing mallard on the beak and shoved it in the oven. Apart from anything else I've never hunted any sort of animal in my life so wouldn't have the first idea how to trap one (a fireworks-stuffed bread roll tied to a hammer, maybe?). No, this was a shop-bought specimen, and the idea was we were going to do some sort of extra-poncey Sunday roast. However, as you may have spotted from the terms 'try', 'the idea was' and 'absolute shitfest', things didn't exactly go to plan - and if you're wondering where that latter phrase fits in, it's coming up right now: instead, it was an absolute shitfest. You see, everyone knows ducks are quite lardy. Unlike your more land-based eating birds such as chicken, turkey, McNuggets