Gone again, home again…

I’ve been welded to my suitcase these past few weeks, so today I celebrate being home for the rest of the summer by barbecuing a leg of lamb. Yes, in this heat, in this economy.

I’m someone who turned being a homebody into a career, a life. I’m never happier than when I start the day putting a wash on, followed by a cup of coffee in my favourite cup (a bone china mug, Wedgewood, bought at the Chelsea Flower Show years ago, if you’re curious) while I lay out books and notebooks on the dining table, and begin scribbling down notes and shopping lists for the day ahead.

So imagine how bouleversée I have been these past few weeks when I have been in London, then County Durham to see my family, then back to France for the St John Fête du Vin in Minervois last weekend, and back to London for the Guild of Food Writers’ Awards on Wednesday night.

Trevor Gulliver of St John, preparing to barbecue a hundred spatchcocked quail. He wears two hats, a baseball cap soaked in iced water against the heat, and a straw hat against the glare of the sun. Cool.

The St John Fête du Vin, the restaurant’s utterly joyful annual party to celebrate the new vintage of their Boulevard Napoleon wines in the grounds of the Twelfth Century chais in La Liviniere.

I didn’t win, but it was wonderful to see so many of my favourite people at the Royal Institution on what must have been the hottest night of the year, the 30C heat exacerbated by rooms full of people talking at a million miles an hour. In the self-published category, all three of us were nominated for our newsletters on Substack, just in case you were in any doubt as to where all the cool kids are hanging out these days.

All three of the nominations in my category were from Substack. Do check them out, Joel Hart’s The Schmaltz and the winning newsletter, Dining Out by Lauren O’Neill.

Mark Diacono, Leyla Kazim, and me at the Royal Institution.

Chefs Jeremy Lee and Jackson Boxer. The most moving moment of the evening was Jackson’s speech about his beloved grandmother, food writer, Arabella Boxer, before he presented her with her Lifetime Achievement Award.

Carolyn Boyd, author of Amuse Bouche: How to Eat Your Way Around France, Gilly Smith of the podcast, Cooking the Books, and me. Gilly took the pictures of the awards I’ve used here because I was too busy talking to remember to take any.

All GFW party pictures courtesy of Gilly Smith

I was in London for three days and crammed a lot in – a dinner at Toklas for Francesca Wade’s brilliant book, Gertrude Stein: An Afterlife. The menu – inspired by recipes from the Alice B Toklas Cookbook – was created by Alex Jackson, whose cooking I’ve loved since he first opened his restaurant, Sardine, next to a Russian banya by the Old Street roundabout. My first meal out after lockdown was at Noble Rot in Soho, where he woke us all up with his duck liver pâté choux with Tokaji jelly and chicken with morels and vin jaune. He loves the flavours of southern Europe, and the south of France in particular. If you enjoy my kind of cooking at all, you’ll love his books, Sardine: Simple Seasonal Provençal Cooking and Frontières: The Food of France’s Borderlands.

The beautiful menu for Alex Jackson’s dinner at Toklas, with recipes inspired by The Alice B Toklas Cookbook. No hashish fudge – too punchy for a Tuesday.

Alex’s books, highly recommend.

I was not deterred by the heat, even though London at 30C feels hotter than the South of France at 35C because the hard pavements and high buildings cling onto the heat. I followed my own, personally-devised, Iron Woman schedule of croquetas at Brindisa, coffee at WatchHouse, lunch at Quo Vadis, book buying at Daunts and bra shopping at Marks & Spencer, because god knows, French women may get fat but not, apparently, in the cup department.

I didn’t stop talking for three days.

This beef, artichoke and Parmesan salad at Quo Vadis was the perfect hot day lunch. Unusually for us, my friend Mel and I ordered exactly the same thing. It was a little warm for Pie of the Day, to be honest.

My book haul from Daunts: The Propagandist by Cécile Desprairies, Les Parisiennes: How the Women of Paris Lived, Loved and Died in the 1940s by Anne Sebba, French Cooking for One by Michèle Roberts.

On the flight home, I was giddy at the thought that I’m now here for the whole summer. Excitingly, the whole of London seems to be coming to me. I foresee plenty of opportunities to begin the day by putting a wash on.

One of my friends said, “There’s nothing like your own bed, is there?” That is true, and I suppose I am sleeping in my own bed, insofar as I paid for it, but it’s not my own bed, the one I sleep in every night, in our pretty pink room overlooking the port. While I’ve been gone, our bedroom and one of the other bedrooms have been stripped bare in preparation for painting. The top landing is filled with boxes and shelves. Séan and I are camping out in the smallest bedroom. I haven’t unpacked, there is barely room. I’m living out of my London suitcase like a student.

The upstairs landing. Embracing the chaos.

But life must go on, despite all my clothes being under plastic sheets. I do what I always do when I don’t quite know what to do with myself: cook. I know it’s hot, but hey, let’s light the barbecue and stand well back…

The lamb recipe I’m sharing with you this weekend is really simple. The leg is butterflied (get the butcher to do this for you if you’re nervous, but it’s honestly very easy to do yourself) and filled with all good things – garlic, herbs, anchovies, capers, lemon – then rolled and barbecued. It’s just the thing for an afternoon in the garden with friends. I serve it with a simple fennel salad, no sweat. Everything else I suggest in today’s menu (below) requires no preparation at all – I’m not a maniac.

Whatever you’re up to this weekend, stay cool, eat well, sleep well.

The first thing I do when I get home is to walk around the garden. Yesterday I was rewarded by the sight of summer’s first sunflower.

Gigot d'agneau à la méditerranéenne

Mediterranean leg of lamb

Sorry about the picture - it was dark by the time I took it.

This boned, rolled leg of lamb is filled with tomatoes, anchovies, capers and lemon. Don’t be put off by the long-looking method – it’s very easy. It’s also good cold the next day, in a sandwich or a salad, if you have any leftovers.

Serves 6