4 Questions 4 Nigella Lawson
I’ve said it before: the single best day of my freelance writing life was the one I spent shopping and cooking with Nigella Lawson. When I started this blog — exactly one year ago today — my friend Randall asked: “Is it going to be “All Nigella, All the Time?”
“No, I answered, “but if my posts can mirror even a little of her exuberance for good food and the pleasures inherent in cooking and eating it, I’ll be happy.” (Well, that’s what I should have said. My actual response probably was closer to: “Your secret hopes are showing!”)
Today, she speaks for herself — or, as Randall and I always refer to her: Herself.
Happy First Birthday, Margin Notes, you lucky blog. Your gift came all the way from Herself’s London kitchen.
[photograph by James Merrell]
1. I know you’ were part of the opening ceremony for the Maggie’s Cancer Centre in London this past April. Is cancer research/treatment/education your major charitable interest?
It was one of the Centres. Rather interestingly, they are getting various leading architects to design different centres in cities around Britain; I opened the Richard Rogers one.
But to answer your question: I am certainly interested in helping cancer charities, although I am not hugely involved, but just try and do what I can. The two main charities I support are the Lavender Trust (which concentrates on helping young women with breast cancer) and the Head and Neck Cancer Research charity. My impulse towards both those charities are evidently personal; one of my sisters died of breast cancer at 31 and my first husband died of oral cancer. But I also am involved in various fund-raising schemes for Great Ormond Street Hospital, which is the children’s hospital in London, and in particular with helping raise money to build a wing so that parents and families can stay near their children. I also recently did a cooking class for some of the children.
I have made some donations, and would like to be able to help more personally in the future, with a children’s hospice in London, also. But the thing is, I think real charitable work is not actually possible when one has a young family. The saying ‘charity begins at home’ has some sense to it; so although I definitely like to help where I can, I also want to raise my children to grow up considerate and able to care for others too. I once read an interview with Bianca Jagger (to whom I bear absolutely no resemblance) and she said that Jade had said to her “When you were away saving all the children on the other side of the world, I was at home missing you.”
2. I’m imagining you arriving in Venice, grabbing a basket and heading for the open air market. Other than clams for your beloved pasta con vongole, what will you be hoping to find and how will you cook it?
I love being in Venice, and the sight of the market at the Rialto is one of the most uplifting in the world. From the fish market there, I like to buy little live shrimp, that scuttle about in their paper wrapping; they are cellophane see-through when you put them in the pan - with a little olive oil and garlic and perhaps a little chilli - and turn coral pink as they cook. This is not for the squeamish, as they do try and climb out of the pan as they cook. I love these tossed into pasta, and although many Italians are scathing about flavored pasta, there is a wonderful little shop in the corner of the market - largely a tourist trap admittedly - which sells wonderful hand cut pasta, and my favorites with the garlicky shrimp are the tagliolini tinged red with chilli or dyed a liquorice black with squid ink. But I adore the fruit and vegetable market too, and there’s a wonderful lettuce you can buy there, grown locally, called radicchio di Castelfranco, which is like a speckled blossom, a loose head of creamy yellow leaves, splattered with rusty red. “Il fiore che si mangia” says the handwritten sign planted among them in the stall: the flower that you eat. This I want with some salt sprinkled over, a squeeze of lemon and thick ooze of good olive oil; alongside (and bought from one of the shops lining the market ) I want some prosciutto di san Daniele, which comes from near Venice and is sweeter and more tender than the more famous prosciutto di parma. And I will go into one of the little cheese shops and buy some fresh milky ricotta and add that to my plate of ham and flowery salad. Food this good doesn’t need to be cooked.
3. Now let’s cast you solely in the role of eater: If you could have anyone in the world fly to London and cook for you, who would it be — and, of course, why?
That is a hard question, as I have got so used to my role as cook, I fear I am not great at being cooked for. I adore Mario Batali so much - his exuberance, his larger-than-lifeness, his passion for food and the whole shebang - that I would rather love him to be in my kitchen feeding me vats of pasta and knocking back red wine with me. Otherwise, let me think - please may I request you fly me instead (in a supersonic rocket that speeds up the journey) to Sean’s Panaroma in Sydney, where he can feed me on his roast chook, creamed corn and gorgeous gravy as I look out at the blueness of the sea and sky of Bondi Beach.
4. Your books are laced with references to your mother’s cooking, including your affection for her roast chicken and the success of her bearnaise sauce techniques.
Which dishes from YOUR kitchen do you think your children will remember most fondly?
I’m afraid, my children always say their favourite meal is my Sunday Night Pasta, which is not exactly one of my finest dishes (though I, too, find it delicious)! It’s pasta, tossed in cream warmed up with a little garlic-infused oil and some (preferably organic) chicken stock/ bouillon concentrate and a little parmesan. They also adore my homemade custard creams. This will mean nothing to non-Brits - so to explain, a custard cream is a pair of shortbready-type square cookies sandwiched with a custardy flavored buttercream. They are not very high-toned! I make mine for my babes in heart shapes and if asked what their favourite recipe of mine is, would probably answer with these. But the recipe I think they will probably inherit as part of their traditions when they have families of their own, are the birthday cookies I made them every year from 1 to 9; I reckon double figures is the cut-off point. Each year on their birthdays, I’d make a big plate of cookies cut out in the number they’d attained (you know how obsessed small children are with their new age) and iced gaudily, according to the theme of their birthday party. It is part of our family ritual (as indeed our home made Christmas tree decoration cookies are) and I think will be embedded in their memories of their childhood.
Tags: Mario Batali, Nigella Lawson
Tuesday, July 15th, 2008 at 11:38 amand is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
