Lunch Lust

Today an unrequited lust, as I’ve heard great things about this place but have yet to sample its wonders. Inamo is one of those ‘revolutionary dining concepts’ (that always conjures up images of a Jetsons/space age set up and then quickly disappoints), but then this pan-asian joint has the added perk of some bargainous set menus, small plates and starters as well as the big hitters like Black Cod and Thai curries. Having chuckled at Ariel Leve’s recent rant about the evils of small plates, I am actually a fan of the phenomenon. One of the nicest meals I’ve had recently was at Yauatcha in Soho, where we asked the waitress for a selection of their best dishes. The rest of the evening was a mouthwatering blur of sensational dumplings, spicy fried squid and jasmine tea-smoked ribs. Inamo looks like a similar order-everything type of place, and the soft-shell crab maki rolls and the salmon and avocado ceviche would be top of my list. Now all I need is someone with excellent taste to take me there…

Lunch Lust

As I make the transition from working life to student journo, I'm going to incorporate some regular slots into the blog - Twitter & blog recommendation, style crushes and most deliciously, a bit of a restaurant watch.

This week's lust is Artisan and Vine (the site of my first online dating experience). I already knew they sourced delicious local and specialist wines, but from next week they are starting a new lunch menu which, reading it through, could have been created in my most delirious dream.

Fishcakes with hollandaise? Moules? Goats cheese tart? And all with the know-how behind the bar to set you up with the perfect refreshment. I feel a little drunk already.

Cooking up a Storm

I think I've replaced love with baking. Actually I've replaced work, relationships and normality with it. Baking and I are very happy together - it gives me what I need, is always sweet and delightful and I don't even mind cleaning up after it.

Don't get baking confused with cooking - cooking and I have been going strong since I was about fourteen. I love to throw together a vibrant stir-fry, cook carby, creamy comfort food like macaroni cheese or even just put a new spin on a classic like scrambled eggs. Baking is a new thing in my life. It's a separate concept - cakes, cookies and brownies are not necessary, they are treats. Taking the time to bake something delicious that's both unnecessary and a little naughty takes love and patience. There is something unbelievably satisfying about beating a cake mix until it's perfectly smooth and airy, or sieving flour, or whipping up creamy icing. Sharing your baked goods with other people is like introducing them to a boyfriend - you're half proud, half scared no one will like it, with just a pinch of wanting to keep it all to yourself.

My latest baking challenge is Nigella Lawson's Chocolate Guinness Cake. It's the sort of mix of indulgent and quirky that you wish you had created yourself. I added some melted Bournville chocolate (I refuse to believe that merely cocoa powder and sugar is enough for a rich chocolate cake) and it's still baking, but I'll update with the results and a picture. I'm not a huge Guinness drinker, but alcohol in puddings is only ever a great thing in my experience, and the mixture smelled irresistable pre-oven. I still have to make the cream cheese/sugar/double cream whipped icing, but not a lot can go wrong from here.

Cooking is totally cathartic (as well as a brilliant skill to have, especially if you can trade off cooking for the person/people you live with shopping or washing up) and while some people love going for a run or a swim to clear their head, for me - tragically, for my waistline - it is cooking that does the trick. I recently read Julie & Julia by Julie Powell, and it's such a great read for anyone interested in blogging or cooking. Julie was in a dead-end, depressing job in New York in the aftermath of 9/11, and felt trapped and suffocated by the pressures of her life. She set herself a mad goal to cook every one of the 524 recipe's in Julia Child's hefty Mastering the Art of French Cooking book in one year, and to document her efforts, her victories and failures in a blog (back when blogging was still a new concept.) The book is not published with blog entries but as a more fluid story, with some references to her readers' comments and her personal life. It is fascinating, and takes some getting into (Julie is a somewhat acerbic character and not at all concerned with being likeable, which I loved) and it's really just about being a normal person with problems and joys and ambitions, trying not to get swallowed up by a big city in turmoil. I highly recommend it, as well as suggesting that you persevere if you find it slightly slow-moving or inaccessible - I was totally absorbed and rooting for Julie by the end.

Essentially, Julie comes to feel a huge personal satisfaction in setting herself little goals in the form of complex dishes, and also in feeding those she loves. It's a primal thing to nourish those around you, and I can totally relate to her turning her life around in the kitchen. This is not to say that this will become a cooking blog, but just that baking is putting a smile on my face these days (not least because I'm blasting Journey in the background and singing along) and I kind of like it.

Guilty Pleasures

What links Snickers bars, OK! magazine, American Idol, Dr Pepper and David Mitchell?

As readers of this post may have guessed, they are in fact my personal secret indulgences, weird crushes and bizarre cravings. None of them are particularly glamourous or intellectual (except the lovely David Mitchell) but nevertheless, they make me swoon.

Aside from the raptures of peanut, caramel and chocolate combined, the American Idol final came up in the news today for having its worst ratings in the US since 2004. This is supposedly due to gaming and internet use overtaking entertainment shows, but it probably also reflects the talent show formula feeling bit flat after all these years. For all its tackiness, I do love Idol. Even in the rounds leading up to the final 12, all of the US contestants could sing the socks off our 'novelty' Brit contestants (will Ray Quinn PLEASE have the decency to disappear??) and you get some stonking cover versions where they can really showcase their vocal skills. The standout contestant of this season, Adam Lambert, lost out to impishly cute Kris Allen - a bit of a travesty, considering the risks Lambert had taken with arrangements and his sheer vocal athleticism. But back in the guilty-pleasure lobe of my brain, I obviously had a massive crush on shamelessly middle-of-the-road Kris.

At least Allen is conventionally boyband-dreamy; Psychologies magazine this week cast my mind back to that guiltiest of pleasures, the 'Shouldn't but Would'. If you think you don't have one, maybe this will jog your memory: Simon Cowell. Richard Madeley. Paul Merton. Simon Amstell (who cares if you're not his type?) Andrew Castle. Chris Moyles.

Chances are your SbW is a bit wrinkly, nationally unpopular, aesthetically unappealing, chubby or all of the above. Usually humour, power or just that twinkle in the eye are all that keep him out of barge-pole territory. When XFM asked listeners to send in theirs, the hilarious responses ranged from the cradle-snatching (Daniel Radcliffe, Zac Efron) to the political (Boris Johnson, Michael Portillo) and even, disturbingly, to the fictional (Mr Tumnus, Cheetara from Thundercats, and even Simba from the Lion King). If we're delving into Disney, I always had confusing feelings about Robin Hood - yes, the talking fox - and I know I share this crush with at least one friend. You know who you are.

I'm off now to read OK! in front of a One Tree Hill repeat with a can of Dr Pepper - where's David Mitchell when you need him? - but please do comment with your guilty pleasures, be they culinary, carnal or downright cringeworthy.

Cereal Monogamy

Mitchell: Pedantic, overly articulate, ranting, irritable and sarcastic. And topping many a 'Shouldn't but would' list.

Hilarious comment article by David Mitchell in today's Observer.

I also have a tricky relationship with cereal. This could be tied in with my milk issues - I like strawberries and cream, ice cream, cream-filled profiteroles, but if there is even a speck of cream in my milk it totally freaks me out. I can't explain it either, but it'll probably come out in therapy when I'm thirty. Cereal used to be a perfectly normal start to the day; I remember when a Kellogg's variety pack was the breakfast hallmark of special occasions and treats, usually involving a tiff over who got the Coco Pops. But these days, if I'm eating cereal I am almost certainly on a rare and short-lived health kick.

I went through a phase in the second year of university of stocking up on Fruit'n'Fibre, which at least attempts to incorporate some tastier fruit pieces, and skimmed milk in a desperate bid to kick my bread habit. Now having given up such dieting efforts at the ripe old age of 21, only once in a blue moon do I deviate from my love affair with toast to delve into the raisin bran. This is odd because the rest of my family are devoted cereal eaters, it is the only proper start to a weekday, usually substituted by more exciting options at the weekend.

But Mitchell is right in saying it is a curious thing to market as enjoyable rather than essential. Anyone who saw this year's Apprentice candidates fudging their way through the breakfast product task (Oh, Pantsman... there is nothing anyone can say that will justify that departure of taste and sanity) will appreciate that essentially you're trying to make puffed rice, brown flakes, and shrivelled fruit exciting and delectable. As I understand it, my option of two slices of wholemeal toast with marmite is just as healthy and fibre-rich, and I even avoid the hidden sugars lurking in the cereal option.

I just can't understand any culinary lust towards a breakfast option which strongly resembles the dried mix you would feed a rodenty pet; if I feel I'm not getting enough fibre or fruit, I'll get involved, but stop trying to make me excited about it.* There's a reason cereal doesn't appear on those food-porn M&S ads: 'misshapen, crunchy, brown flakes.... shrivelled unidentified-floating objects.... this is not just cereal....'

*I'd like to make an exception for Stateside luxury Lucky Charms - any leprechaun-bearing product involving colourful marshmallow shapes is fine by me. If you have had the misfortune never to try these, get hold of some in Selfridges Food Hall. Believe me.