The Aperitif Guy

I'm often asked how I got into hospitality as a profession. The truth is it's only been my main source of income for just under two years. Before that, I was just an experienced amateur. Now, I freelance as a features writer, cocktail tutor, consultant/trainer to the industry and sommelier at a highly-respected establishment in North Yorkshire. Not a bad trajectory for someone who was a gibbering wreck under the table a few years ago, eh? Let's revisit a significant phrase from that second sentence: "...only been my main source of income..." Nobody's skills and knowledge are limited to their field of employment, and I have been cooking, hosting, drinking and even teaching all my adult life. My journey to my current, happy career has taken longer than many people's, but I can trace a clear path that has led me here. Just as a canal has its towpath, so my former career in social care has a parallel path that I have walked in hospitality. Regular or longstand...

About twice a year, my dining friends and I come together for a gala dinner. Each dinner is themed, usually around a time or place that has significantly shaped the way we eat. I'm currently exploring cuisines of the Americas, and the most recent dinner took us to the southern United States. The images in this post were taken at that dinner, and the content derives from my preparatory research. Southerners and Yankies alike will tell you the South is “different,” and it’s not just down to slavery, nostalgia or the accent. The French Crown established a port at the mouth of the Mississippi in 1718, a river that is navigable almost as far as modern Canada. Calling the port Nouvelle Orléans and their colony Acadie, they set about claiming land either side of the great river. At one point, French rule stretched in a huge crescent from the Gulf of Mexico to Quebec. That was not to last, though. The English colonists pushed them back, splitting the colony into its Louisiana and Quebec po...

I'd like to sup with my baby tonight, Refill the cup with my baby tonight, But I ain't up to my baby tonight 'Cause it's too darn hot! My phone tells me the current temperature is 29℃ outside. Like Cole Porter's chorus in Kiss Me Kate, I've no interest in cooking, dining or much else in this weather. In the summer months, I rely quite heavily on salads for my evening meals. An interesting salad can be thrown together with little thought and served cold as the day starts to cool, but there's no reason it shouldn't be part of an hospitable dinner, either. American hospitality is generous and welcoming. Virtually every dinner begins with a dish of salad, and their variety seems to know no bounds. Europeans may be surprised by the Southern and Mid-West delight in jello (fruit jelly) salads, but we still have much to learn from the inventiveness of our friends across the Atlantic and their ability to deliver freshness, punchy flavours and lively colours time ...

With the bank holidays now over, the sun has returned to the UK again. Everywhere, people are sitting outside the coffee shops, grazing on sharing-plates of cured meats and preserved fish and sipping on Aperol Spritz. I wonder if they realise how much of our modern lifestyle has its origins in the history of a tiny city at the head of the Adriatic. I love Venice. I love its art, its culture, its music. I love the cool of its churches, the shimmer of the light on the canals, the sounds of its busy squares and the silence of its streets at night. I even love the smell of the mud!  Nobody really knows where the Venetians came from. A quick look at any native will tell you they were most certainly not Italian: shorter, fairer and often with blue eyes. Whatever their origins, it is generally agreed that these first inhabitants settled in the dank, misty islands of the north Adriatic Lagoon around the time of the collapse of the Roman Empire. They are accepted to have been refugees, flee...

This weekend, the UK, along with several other Commonwealth countries, celebrates the Platinum Jubilee of Her Majesty the Queen. By any stretch of the imagination, 70 years of service is something to marvel at, and many people will be celebrating with parties, trips to events and concerts, or simply having a tipple while they watch the TV footage of others celebrating. Although I'll be at work for three days of the holiday, a friend and I have arranged a celebratory luncheon on Sunday afternoon. Weather permitting, we'll enjoy cocktails in my friend's garden, before repairing indoors for delicious food, lovely wines and a snifter or two of port. The cocktail we've chosen to serve was actually created for a royal jubilee in Thailand, but we chose it for its lightness and freshness as much as its name. It mixes gin with elderflower liqueur, grapefruit and sparkling wine, and I'm hoping it'll be the perfect foil to my crab barquettes and truffled asparagus vol-au-v...

Nutritionists tell us that the first meal we have in a day is the most important. Personal trainers advocate a decent start to the day with slow-release, complex carbs, and I’ve known rugby coaches to say it’s the only meal at which professional players can eat whatever they want. In the working week, we tend to rely on the same simple things: cereals, fruit & yoghurt, toast. We might treat ourself to a bacon or sausage butty at the weekend. Bank holidays are special, though: it’s like getting an extra Saturday before we go back to work. It’s a time for treats, and with the Queen's jubilee coming up, we can have lots of them! I’m not a fan of Champagne breakfasts and Bloody Mary for brunch. I can’t see the appeal of alcohol so early in the day. I do, however, love traditional breakfast dishes: proper, old fashioned cooked dishes that bring out the Edwardian in me. I always order kippers at an hotel or treat myself to eggs benedict in a café. The problem with these dishes is tha...

The French writer J-A Brillat-Savarin once wrote that "to receive guests is to take charge of their happiness during the entire time they are under your roof." That’s quite a responsibility. I also think it’s a privilege. We “take charge” of someone’s happiness when they have trusted us with it. When my partner and I got together, we decided we wanted our home to be somewhere people felt able to show up uninvited, where they would always be welcome, regardless of the circumstances. It was a principle I was brought up with. Back in the days before phones in every home, when families couldn’t arrange a visit as easily as we do now, my Mum kept a stash of tinned ham and salmon in the back of the cupboard, ready to be turned into a sandwich supper at a moment’s notice should family or friends come round. I find myself doing the same now, with tins of pâté, jars of olives and bottles of wine. The foods have changed, but the principle’s the same. The thought of guests arriving unan...