Imperative cooking: Food presents
Nicosia THE ST ANTONY Market in Nicosia sells the sort of things you would expect: some very good loose olives — green and black, sheep's cheese, a lot of nuts, some spices, smoked sausages and dried peppers and chillies. That's solved half the Christmas presents. It is possible that Spectator read- ers have not got time to go to Cyprus before the day, and I wouldn't necessarily advise it. The place is fine, some very good food and charming people. But unless you want to arrive at three in the morning, you have to travel on Cyprus Airways. My flight was ten-and-a-half hours late and there was not so much as an apology. Anyway, you can get many of the things in north-east London. The point is that for the trouble of going to a few Cypriot, Pak- istani, Italian and Chinese shops, you can solve the Christmas present problem. It Works like this. As I never tire of pointing out, most English cooks are lazy and mean about their cooking, and even lazier about their shopping. Recent studies show that !be poorer they are and the more time they nave, the lazier they become. So if you take the trouble to go to a few good shops, you ean put together some quite ordinary things that they won't have. n Setae require a little preparation. Many need olive oil. So the olives should be drained and put in large jars with olive oil, h erbs, fennel, garlic and lemon peel accord- ing to taste. Artichokes in brine in tins need draining, gently squeezing, halving and packing neatly in jars — ladies seem better than gents at this — again in olive oil. If You can find some little round goats' eheeses, they can be packed in olive oil too. Fresh peppers need plunging into boiling Wine vinegar and water (50/50), then pack- ing in olive oil. Best of all, sprats, whitebait or anchovies can be salted for a couple of FYs, then packed in olive oil with dried rrd's eye chillies. If the children are play- 11.g LIP, give them some of the longer dried with a needle and cotton and get TM to make clusters. If they are really Po aYing uP, get them to rub their little eyes J. scratch their little bottoms with their hillied fingers afterwards.
esather spices make good presents too, would if you can get the best quality. It
riould be a fool who did not welcome Span- 1s11 saffron or the best-quality cinnamon. Growing herbs and spices is useful, notably lemon-grass and basil. But the most elabo- rate spice-type present you can give is a Pan kit. That means a bag of betel-nuts, a special betel-nut-cutter, some leaves, lime powder and as many little tins of assorted flavourings, sweet or not as you wish, green cardamons and the best Pan tobacco. It relieves the dullest Christmas. There's the fun of making it, the joy of chewing it, the exhilarating effect of the tobacco, the soothing effect of the betel and the happy hours afterwards picking bits of detritus out of the gums.
If you want to give more robust presents, then terrines or home-made sausages fit the bill. The main problem is not finding the principal meat ingredient (game is best), but finding good fat pork after the depredations of the food fascists. You will, of course, have ordered a few geese, and if you have really special friends, you could make them some confit. If you have been remiss, then confit de canard is almost as good.
But the food present any Imperative cook wants to receive will usually be raw and sometimes live. There is nothing so welcome, amidst all the wrappings, ribbons, calendars, socks and silly books, as finding a couple of good purplish beef kidneys or a half-dozen lambs' testicles. What can that rectangular parcel be, the one with the holes in the paper on top? I know what they are: airholes. Is it catfish, eels, a plump young guinea-pig? And that parcel with the straw sticking out? Straw means live crabs, just as seaweed tells tales of oysters. But don't give clams: many of them do not keep nearly as long as oysters.
These are all presents for family and friends. But don't forget the poor, lonely and elderly. They are usually well-catered for on 'the day'. It's afterwards they are alone. And what they rarely get to eat are dishes cooked for reasonable numbers of chaps. The elderly are particularly fond of Spanish omelettes, well-cooked stews such as Spanish-style tripes, warm slices of a hot whole ham. Find such a person up your road and drop them off a plate of some- thing. I've been pleasantly surprised how adventuresome they are. Even ones from quite humble backgrounds have been seen tucking into brandade or stuffed goose neck. They are a pleasure to visit compared with ghastly young people.
Digby Anderson
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