Q. You have a lot of spice here?
Yes, spice is essential in my cooking. I love to cook a variety of styles and am inspired by spice. This is spice central.
Q. Favourite foods.
Hamburgers, chips, avocado, cheese, raisins, figs, dates, chocolate, black rice, roast potatoes, radishes, marmalade, burnt black toast…
Q. Let’s leave it there.
Fair enough. We don’t want the reader being bored with endless food lists.
Q. I see you have lots of books in the kitchen as well and some photographs and drawings, a birds head, a map of France, a pumpkin…
And there are more underneath and in the cupboards.
Q. But nothing on the walls.
Look, there’s not enough space left to hang things and I think a kitchen should be just that, a good fully working kitchen not somewhere to hang art or objects although saying all that these are my hanging shelves which I have tried to balance all my spices and things. When we bought this house the kitchen was so small, very French and I am used to a bigger space to prepare and cook so it was one of the first rooms to be done but all the cupboards and work tops we salvaged from the old kitchen and unused cupboards they left in the cellars. A bit of rewiring and a small piece of plumbing had to be done but it works. The sink is old, the cookers are old but they work. You can cook for a hoard of people in here. I don’t understand people that feel
the need to go out and buy a completely new kitchen when what they have is probably adequate. Honestly, you could not ask for more – why buy new when what you have is good? What makes people throw everything out when they are functioning appliances?
Q. No need to snap. Horses for courses. Nice selection of retro crockery you have on display and a good collection of old cookery magazines and newspaper cut outs. I sometimes have the patience to cook a recipe based on the instructions but I like to change therefore nothing ever tastes the same. I am though forever cutting out titbits from magazines and newspapers and adding them to my cooking scrapbooks here for inspiration. You can always tell a good cookbook, the one with pages folded down, stains, markings, added information. I do love cooking for people though. I love curries and poppadums and chapattis. And coconut cream, cumin seeds and gram masala. I’m drooling now. I wish I had thought about cooking you something better and sitting down now to a huge table full of curry, rice and pickles and also some Turkish Delight.
Q. You’re not fat, but you’re not thin either. How rude, but sadly how true. In the summer because of guests and added housework and of course going to the beach some of the time I lose weight. Whenever I am promoting my books I tend to diet a few weeks before because you are aware of the dodgy cameras podgy embrace. But I have tried many diets over the time, some work, some I still do. Let me explain.
The Toast Diet – for breakfast, one piece of good quality toast with marmalade, for lunch, one piece of good quality toast with marmite and watercress, for supper, one piece of good quality toast with honey, or, if preferred, marmalade or marmite. This knocks pounds of you and is surprisingly good to eat. The whole point of dieting, losing weight, staying thin, is to lose interest in food altogether, and eat only as a means of getting fuel into you. It takes a long time to retrain your taste buds and to lose the craving for delicious chocolates and nice salty chips. The firmest and surest way is to start the day with porridge, eaten without milk or sugar, maybe just a little salt. Some people like this (I do) but it is, to be frank, a bit of a slog morning after morning and eventually you just chaw it down like stuffing coal into a boiler. Eat fruit and vegetables, but never when they are in peak condition. Apples must have gone soft, bananas black, celery bendy, carrot pliable and lettuce should have the texture of a wet hanky. These things are not bad for you, but they’re not fun and you won’t call for more. Think poor; think scavenger. Eat some cheese but only when its hard so you have to grate it finely off the rind. Eat the rind. Try to be grateful for all sorts of sad and lonely combinations, velvet-soft grapes with wrinkled skins on a piece of bread with a little salt, some avocado, black bits cut out, a few peanuts, cottage cheese scrapings with the blue fur excluded. In fact, live like a pauper. Always keep long life food in the cupboard, oats, rice, dates, tins of marrowfat peas which you can rip open and devour in fits of despair. What do you eat in public when dieting? Accept everything on your plate, or in a
restaurant order some rather ambitiously large dish, then cut it all about madly, say how nice it is, eat two mouthfuls then say you are full. Order pudding; same trick. You will give the impression of loving life and being a glutton whilst actually getting thinner. People will say, Oh you are so lucky, you eat like a horse and yet you stay so thin. Then smile sweetly patting some bony part of your body and say, I know, it’s awful.
The School Diet – give up sugar, bread and potatoes. That’s it. Simple. It works. For years I remember being called fatty or porky and when I eliminated these foods from my diet the name calling ceased. Most parents with children at school will go on this diet when they realize they have been selected for the relay team at the school sports day. In days gone by nobody ever seemed to talk about fatness or thinness, no one knew or cared about their weight in general. If you got to a point when you couldn’t do up your trousers you started exercising or missing a meal.
The Modelling Diet – I’m not boring you am I? The infamous grapefruit and steak diet. This is really circa 1965 and every model used this but as wannabe actors in the early 1990s it was something we also adopted. Breakfast – half a grapefruit. Lunch – half a grapefruit and a grilled steak. Supper – ditto. The one major problem was the bad breath factor. After a few days of this you do actually crave something more. I then changed to my Grandmas recommendation, start the day with nothing but hot water and squeezed fresh lemon juice, a marvellous way to clean out your system and scour your tubes ready
for more steak. I was always hungry as an actor but managed to keep an even weight and never really went up or down. That happened later. My only snack was some revolting biscuits which were very waxy in taste and filled with an unsavoury orange fondant cream. This was a good snack complete with instant coffee as the biscuits seemed to inflate you leaving you with no pangs of hunger.
Q. Okay, any chance you could lighten up now? But I do love the kitchen and the door just open to the garden with a small terrace where you can just gaze and eat and watch the world go by.
That is exactly what I do. It was another one of those reasons why we bought the house. Something grabbed us and for this house it was the view. I remember years ago we bought a run-down cottage in the middle of nowhere. We were staying with friends in the Norfolk Broads. We had been many times before and detected what I felt was undiscovered land, great bare rolling fields, rushing rivers. Anyhow, it was winter time and we were driven up a valley lane which just went on and on and we abruptly came to a stop in the middle of a forest. Off the road we saw a little ruined cottage which looked like it had been empty for a number of years and was almost crumbling back into the ground.
The next day with a slight snow blizzard going on, we walked through the forest and stood outside what could only be described as a gingerbread Hansel and Gretel cottage. The wind was blowing mightily but when we finally arrived in this freezing gale, I suddenly felt warm and safe despite feeling absolutely isolated. We creaked
open the door and saw the utter devastation – no floors or ceilings, plaster crumbling, glassless windows rattling their frames at us. It was though the presence of the house and the fact that it had a lovely view of the forest that stole my heart conclusively. We bought the place very cheaply and with astonishing speed and competence, under great supervision from local friends and forest folk, the soul of the house was restored. Two springs were located in the forest and crystal clear sweet water was harnessed to rush into every tap and tank. Trees, bushes and flowers were planted and the house was given a name –Gingerbread – naturally. The old coal store was transformed into a writing room with a big open fireplace and vaulted roof; windows looked out to the north, south, east and west parts of the forest. The old kitchen was kept with its wood burning stove and a small kitchen table so I could prepare food, it was after all just going to be a weekend and holiday getaway place to be. The walls were painted soft red, old French candle holders were attached to the walls which we used to lit when the power refused to come on. An old sofa we reclaimed was placed in the living area, books filled the shelves and someone gave us an old television set which again would work now and then. All the windows were shuttered for extra warmth. A bathroom was put in under the stairs with a huge antique bath to soak away the stiffness of walking the hounds. The bedroom when I first saw it looked some dampened bomb site but was soon changed beyond recognition with rugs, throws, a tiny Victorian fireplace and a big iron bed. Upstairs there were two further bedrooms each with their own personality and
character for invited guests with the floorboards painted green and views across the land.
The smallest lavatory ever built was tucked away somewhere, it even had a wash basin. It seemed that every time we went there to escape the rumblings of the city it was snowing, it probably wasn’t but that is the memory it evokes for you. It’s rather like saying as a child it never rained in the summer when it probably did, you just can’t remember. But in winter there was thick snow and gale force winds and in the summer boiling heat with storms and rainbows shining through the tops of the trees. Tucked away in the middle of this forest lay our home and we were never disturbed, only by animals. Birds would sing, owls would come out at night, our dogs would bark at imaginary noises. At night it was as quiet as black velvet and because there a hardly any light, the stars shining high were as bright as diamonds. The cottage was surrounded by wild flowers, daisies, poppies, mallow – and we managed to build a stone circle where we could burn nettles and make a mini bonfire and drink warming glasses of whiskey. Nearby the house were chestnut trees and every winter I would make my warming chestnut soup.
Q. Let’s go there now. Forget this book, lets drop everything and run away.
Don’t think I haven’t thought about that. We could leave the rest of the book as blank pages and let the reader wonder whatever happened.
Q. Why say all this in the kitchen?
I spend a lot of my time here especially when his nibs is away or when there are guests in the house. But when he is elsewhere or there are no guests, the fridges become completely empty, everything looks tidy and smart and I guess a little dull. I daydream over books, start writing silly nonsense that I know will never get used and watch television. Television can be a wonderful friend so too the wireless. I love that old fashioned word – wireless – so much better than radio. You can talk back to it and say goodnight, good morning and answer questions on quiz shows. Here on the fridge are some more mementos, photos of our old hounds sadly no more, a few magnets from outlandish places I can’t remember going too and some old publicity stills. I sign dozens weekly…
Q. Weekly?
Monthly. Okay yearly then. I now sign dozens yearly because I am always asked – well my publishers are always asked – to donate pictures and books to various charity things so I don’t like to say no. It was surprising when on my last book tour someone came up with an idea not just to sell the books but to market me rather differently so we had posters, postcards, t-shirts. There were two posters on offer, one of my face and the other of the back of my head. I think the back one won in terms of sales. It was most bizarre. The t-shirts we ended up giving away as the collar neck didn’t look right and I felt kind of bad asking people for money to buy a shoddy t shirt. I am actually quite superstitious about photographs you know. Whenever I get given a photograph, which in this digital age is quite
rare, I tend to keep it framed on my desk for a year or so that my remembrance of them will form some kind of confidence around them.
If ever I throw away a photograph of a person, or even a group of people, I kiss it first. I also don’t like statues to be lonely so next to whatever statue I have, I will add something extra, a carved wooden animal or some piece of junk. Some statues get a hat during the year, others some odd pieces of jewellery. I still keep childhood teddy bears, I see them as some kind of talisman, a need to remember and not let go.
Q. What are you afraid of?
Drowning. Being sick. Wearing the wrong clothes. Going mad. Being trapped. Isolated. Tall buildings. Vertigo. Heights. Losing my temper. Being trapped.
Q. What would pack for a picnic lunch? We are in the kitchen so let’s talk about food once more.
I have my retro picnic hamper just here. Vintage and beautiful and I use it a lot still. Hard boiled eggs for starters, free range of course. I always boil my eggs with the flaky outer skins of a couple of onions and they come out the most beautiful amber brown. I have been known to write on them as well – in gold pen I would write – hard-boiled egg – or just someone’s name. Sandwiches are a must, nothing wet or they will remain soggy and always wrapped in paper rather than cling film or plastic. Salt and pepper in little twists of paper. Cold sausages if you like, vegetable samosas, packets of crisps, cherry tomatoes, hearts of lettuce, maybe a spicy rice salad if there is time to prepare. Bananas,
chocolate bars, tangerines, apples. You could get some mini pork pies. I don’t think though a picnic should have too many things on offer. Sometimes just some bread, cheese and fruit is enough. Always pack a small damp cloth and a bag for the rubbish. Thermos flasks are always rather exciting because they have a distinctive smell and the tea and coffee never tastes the same. Bottles of tap water are fine but if you have some elderflower cordial just add a few drops. A table cloth to spread on the ground is needed and makes everything look more ravishing. Umbrellas to keep off the rain or the sun, a camera to photograph the moment and if you drink alcohol a few bottles of chilled wine and a corkscrew. Perhaps just a quarter bottle of whiskey should be added for when you can’t find your way back to the car or you get stuck and the wind and rain is lashing down – a nice wee nip could make everything okay again. Less is more on these occasions, half a capful makes you feel you’ve been in the pub for a long time. Of course these days, it is possible to have far more elaborate picnics with folding tables and chairs, tablecloths and napkins, food in china dishes, candlesticks but I just see that as high maintenance and require so much fussing and planning that by the time everything is prepared and laid out you have lost your appetite. In simpler terms I would prefer a waterfall or a beach, tomato sandwiches and above all a view. Q. Is that a huge set of scales with lemons? Yes, they came from a street market in London years and years ago and although I never use them I love looking at them. I love the array of street sellers scales, a big brass scoop, enamel stand and heavy
weights. For some reason there are more scales in the pantry including an Edwardian post office set and a chemists balance – not sure why we bought that. I guess I am just a collector of clutter but every now and then I box up a few things and place outside or give to charity. At the moment though I am very much into Mediterranean cooking. Thick, dark green olive oil, home-made bread or pittas, olives, tomatoes, garlic, fish grilled slowly over charcoal, those things you cannot fail to please. Fresh lemons and limes, honey, bowls of just picked cherries, peaches, sun dried figs. I am interested in food just not in terrifically complicated recipes. Any recipe in a book which says, Leave to marinate for 48hours, but turn slowly every hour with twelve bay leaves and the jus of a sweated coriander coulis… gets the page flicked over pretty quickly. I still make my own marmalade, an old family recipe, chunky and quite bitter and I see this as my winter reward on hot buttery burnt toast. Simple food is always the best. Have you noticed though, food is always a reward in children’s stories? Reading what Enid Blyton’s children chanced upon in cheerful hospitable Cornish farmhouses makes up for everything. There were always tables that groaned under slabs of fruitcake, jugs of thick cream, brown eggs, sides of ham (although I remember they were always called tongue which was slightly off-putting) and home-made apple tarts and strawberry jam and cider to wash it down. Enough food, come with me next door, to our morning rooms, this is where our guests arrive, eat and relax.