My Other Life and Baked Bananas

Sometimes life can be a bit of a paradox. On the face of it, the everyday living stuff, you can be having a great time, have the best job, the best friends, be making the best of your days. Of course you go with it. You can evolve happily with that nice, easy flow and have no reason to rock any boats.

Then you get gastric flu (or whatever that was) and you’re lying on a hard wooden floor in the airless heads of a boat at anchor in misery and pain, making those uncontrollable, animal-like noises with the entire crew just feet above your head, wishing more than anything that you were in your own house, on your own bathroom floor with your head down your own toilet within earshot of absolutely nobody (or at least just your mum).

And I hated it. I hated being on that boat, bobbing about in some bay, away from solid land and a proper toilet and the privacy and dignity of a lonely, cool, tiled bathroom floor. I might have cried pathetically on more than one occasion.

Just to eek the pitying bit out a fraction more I will let on that I mourned my double life. Yep, I have a double life I’ve not told anybody about. Maybe we all have one and I’m about to admit to something that potentially everybody does. Though just before I tell you about that I would like to quickly acknowledge that this is a food blog and I have just been talking about gastric flu which really isn’t what you were after, I’m sure. So I’m very sorry for any discomforting memories I may have stirred or unsuspecting images I may have conjured. That’s not cricket in a food blog is it; I apologise.

In the double life that I lead in my head, I have a very nice cottage in the countryside. I have a great little kitchen with lots of character and charm and everything I need to create little homemade masterpieces. I have an Inglenook fireplace in my living room and a dog. My garden is mostly laid to lawn (that’s what estate agents call gardens with lots of grass) and has vege patches, fruit trees and herbs dotted idly around. I ride my bike to the village shop most mornings to get the paper and chat to various neighbours about how the village play rehearsals are coming along and the possible explanation for last nights 5 minute power cut. I casually cycle home and make toast and marmalade (that I made) and a nice mug of tea (in a mug from an entire set that I already have actually in a bottom drawer somewhere). Obviously I’m incredibly thin and work out regularly and recycle and save water and go to yoga classes, but I think that’s where I start to tread on a lot of other peoples double-life territory.

So back to reality; and the wooden floor of the boat’s heads. No, let’s move on from there. I’ll spare you any more detail. My double life is now tucked away a little further back in my mind where it normally quietly lingers. It’s taken a few days but I’m back on my (slightly wobbly) feet. And the big relief, although it was never in doubt or not on the horizon, is that I’m interested in food again. And perhaps I’m starting to be glad for my other life once more; the real one where I work on a beautiful classic racing yacht and cook for 11 friends. I should be.

And now for the confession where you will no longer feel at all sorry for my recent bout of illness (if indeed you ever did) and double-life mourning. I had a day off the boat yesterday at a friend’s house to lay by their pool, relax and recoup and it was just what the doctor ordered. And believe it or not, I have a recipe for you. It’s a very small one and it is very simple but after everything it is always the simple little comforts that make us smile again and let us know that everything is going to be okay.

The house had a lovely garden (a bit like mine, laid to lawn) and it was buzzing with wildlife and midsummer vitality. The area of Provence and rosé wine vineyards is stunning this time of year as you can see. It was so, so nice to amongst the wildlife and away from the sea for a bit. Country air; a little breather. A little perspective.

A beautiful Carpenter Bee

 A few of us from the crew went up to enjoy the day, the pool and some Pimms (I’ll admit I had one, lots of lemonade though). And as the day progressed, the sun began to slowly set, the buzzing softened and the frogs began their chorus. This was when the bananas and dark chocolate materialised from Nikki’s bag of Barbeque goodies.

Joe hard at work at the Barbeque.

And I knew that I could smile again. Having been depressingly off my food, I was childishly excited and hugely revived by the most simple of deserts;  baked bananas spiked with hot melted chocolate. 

Yippee!

So just in case you wondered; for Nikki’s baked chocolate bananas you will need;

Bananas, 1 each

A couple of bars of dark or milk chocolate

1 smouldering barbeque

Method;

• First decide who is going to make them. This can be tough after a day in the sun, jumping around in a pool like kids, drinking Pimms to quench your thirst. Rock, Paper, Scissors is an acceptable method of getting someone to move in the right direction.

• Rock, Paper, Scissors loser then takes a knife and slits the bananas from stem to stalk and lays them on the barbeque as shown.

• Keep turning the bananas so that they bake through and when you think they are just about there, spike the bananas with the broken pieces of the chocolate and wait till the chocolate melts.

 

•  Remove from the barbeque and serve on plates with spoons and maybe a little French bread to clean the plate with.

• Enjoy quietly and count your blessings.

Mariquita leaves it’s anchorage at Cogolin and is heading to Barcelona tomorrow. It will be nice to have a break from France and experience Spain.

Once again I have my sushi ingredients on the ready for a bit of fish catching; the way it should be done; on a line, one at a time. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Thanks for reading. I’ll see you soon having had a few more adventures at sea no doubt and a few stories to share. I’ll put my ‘other’ life away in a little box and enjoy the pleasures of what I have right now .

Back on both feet; my real life at 33 degrees.

Cheers!

Just took off me pinny.

If you can't stand the heat, get out the galley!

I'll admit it; I'm absolutely exhausted. But very happily exhausted. It's not everyday in my job onboard Mariquita, that I get to cook all day long and that is definately what occured in the galley today. I am even a wee bit surprised at how well my little 'Force Ten' oven coped with it all.  By 'With it all', I mean, 70 mini pecorino and courgette scones, 90 sausage and apple rolls, 50 croustades and 2 ginormous cakes. Not to mention lunch for 8 and dinner for 7. I also made a huge bowl of salmon mousse for the scones and tapenade for the croustades. Phew.

Yummy apple and sausage rolls. And only 80 more to go!

I hope you'll forgive me if I don't put any recipes up tonight. I'll post you some pictures as evidence though and I'll promise to send some recipes soon. I had to sort of make the scone recipe up a bit. I couldn't find a suitable recipe in my small collection of books onboard (weight restriction) but having sampled a few of the little blighters, fresh out of the oven for research purposes, I can assure you that it is a fine recipe. And with my new-found sense of responsibility to record my recipes, I'm sure I've remembered it well.

Slice in half and add a dollop of salmon mousse. Garnish with a sprig of dill. Well, thats the idea anyway.

Mariquita's 100th birthday party is tomorrow after a day out sailing. Mariquita is looking fantastic for her big day. Sian, the stewardess, has been buffing and polishing as fast as her OCD will carry her. The booze is safely stored and my fridge is bulging at the seams. It's so much fun, throwing a party. But I may be pretty tired by the end of it all. I'll have 40 sandwiches to make in the morning for the crews lunch, the cake to decorate, canapes to prepare, a staysail to trim, lines to pull and champagne to drink. I suppose at some point in all that I'll have to try to put some lipstick on and perhaps a frock. And as we all know it's usually wise to get that done before champagne drinking starts in earnest.

But it's not everyday you're One Hundred years old! I wonder what Mariquita was doing, where she was and who was living onboard when she was 33...

Sleep well. I'll let you know how the party goes. Those pesky mosquitos will not be bothering me tonight!

It Could Make Or Break Me.

Roast veg awaiting spicy hoummus for my vege option sandwich filling.

Sandwiches. You can’t escape this one I’m afraid. You see, I did some figuring out and a few sums, something I never do lightly or for fun. And yet I thought I needed to do this in order for you to understand why sandwich fillings are a big thing in a typical race season for me. Then, it’ll be done with and I will never, ever talk about it again. (lying).

This year we are racing in 8 regattas. Regattas are typically 4-5 days long and we train before each regatta for at least 2 days. Everybody on board has 2 sandwiches each with a choice of 2 different fillings and (don’t worry it’ll be over very soon) there are usually between 23-28 people on board.

Thus! I will be making around 2920 sandwiches this year. Yipee!

George on the bow.

Natty working on the bow sprit

 Now I’m sure there are people reading this thinking;  ‘So what?’, and you're right, this new insight you have into my job is really not that impressive. Its just that each time I'm 'sandwiching', I’ll be making 60 sandwiches in ,hopefully, one hour then launching myself up on deck to pull up sails and work the staysail (sometimes underwater), work many different lines under speed and in all weathers, then when the race is over, lowering said sails before quickly popping myself back down below to change out of soggy gear, cut up left over sandwiches, join in enthusiastically with a race de-brief then start dinner for the crew, canapés and dinner for any guests we may have and begin on my sandwich fillings for the next day….and now draw breath.

folding sails

So there you have it. I do know I’m not alone in this highly advanced and technical area of yacht chefing. John a brilliant chef who worked on ‘Eleanora’, a large and very pretty schooner, has just retired from doing exactly this. I think he’s not missing it.

Cheese and Pickle. Who’d have thought it but this one is a life saver especially if I team it up with a ‘wild card’ filling like smoked mackerel and prawn mayo (lots of lemon and black pepper and chopped parsley) or even egg mayonnaise. Egg mayo is my favourite but sadly it’s not for everyone and is therefore a ‘wild card’ sandwich.

Roast beef and horseradish teamed with rocket in a wrap will bring you marriage proposals as will Chinese chicken (with hoisin sauce, thin rice noodles and bean sprouts all packed into a chicken wrap).

Basically, most things you can put on a plate, you can put in a sandwich. But look, it’s my second race season aboard the good ship Mariquita, and I’m after inspiration. So any favourite sandwich filling ideas would be gratefully accepted.

I’ll leave you with that one and hope as much as you do that my next blog will be a little more interesting and useful. I put some photos in of our last training sail to help it go down a little easier. Hope it worked.

Phew! Glad that’s over with. Thanks for reading, see you soon and remember, I need hearty sandwich fillings for lots of hungry, rope pulling sailors. I do so enjoy those marriage proposals.  Cheers!

 

This is what I crawl over to get to my galley at the end of the day.

 If its been a long, wet sail then this is all pretty soggy just to add to the romance of it ...

view at the end of the spinnaker pole.

A Quick Tour

I thought I’d give you a quick tour of my galley and my cabin. It won’t take long because there’s not a huge amount to show you.  We’ll start with the galley.

My oven is known as a ‘Force Ten’. I really think that it’s perhaps designed to cook on boats that are less than 60ft long for no more than 8 people on the occasional, nice weekend’s outing on the Solent. And there I am, cooking for 12 every day, sometimes on deliveries, for days at a time on an angle of various degrees. Last year, ‘Mr Oven’, (he’s definitely a male. So difficult when I least need it) got the chance to live up to his name; ‘Force-Ten’ (said with movie trailer voice). He failed.

We sailed the boat from here, St Tropez to the UK. Most of the 3 week trip was great, catching fish and making sushi. But then the coast of Portugal brought weather that sent the fruit bowl flying (amongst anything else on the boat that wasn’t glued down or lashed to the deck) so that whilst trying to stay up-right, hold on, keep a non-sea-sick head and cook stir fried vege’s and egg noodles, I also had to avoid a pineapple, apples and some kiwi’s all hurtling through the galley in various directions. And then the oven door kept flying open, whilst my one and only port hole started to leak all over the floor I was already struggling to stand up on……

‘Oh, how we laughed!’, she says with a small, its-all-in-the-distant-past kind of a chuckle.

So here we are, the crew queuing up for lunch whilst in port. So if you were thinking of downing some Stugeron, hold back, its all flat and calm again.

Tim and Matty diving into 'kitchen-sink-lasagne'

You’ll no doubt get to know this lot quite well over the next few months. I’ll remember not to complain about their eating habits too much. We work, live, eat and play in such close quarters, its probably wise to say nothing but the nicest of things. To be honest, I’m very lucky. I have one vegetarian, one nut allergy, and the odd, few dis-likes. Oh and the captain can’t eat too much shellfish or drink green wine but that’s his story and I definitely need to keep him sweet.

Moving onto my cabin then; sorry, our cabin.  The Fella and I have now spent a week, back in our cabin quarters. Now, you may think from these pictures that it all looks quite nice! And you’d be right. We’re very, very lucky. 4 members of the crew sleep in the forepeak. They have ‘cots’ which fold down on pullies. And a space under a seat to put their stuff in (crew uniform, pants etc). So Billy, Joe etc, if you’re reading this then please forgive me my whinging.

maybe I could have tidied a bit more...

We all spend about 7-8 months living in this manner. And let me tell you that you can love your partner/boyfriend/spouse more than anything in the world and yet, I assure you, you will be tested by this arrangement. The Fella and I sleep head to toe in our bunk. George is 6ft 3 and very broad in the shoulder (don’t want to brag about how butch my man is…oh, ooops!).  And I…well I am no slim, tiny, slip of a thing, Hey man,I’m a foody!  So we simply can not lie next to each other and not, quite literally, hate each other by the early hours. It’s a small single bed in normal, land-bed-sized terms.

 

Thank God I love the Fella’s feet.

Showing my drawers on the internet eh? Anyway, there they are. 2 whole drawers. Its amazing how as a chic, you can put the most amazing amount of stuff away in 2 drawers. The problem comes when you need a particular top or pair of jeans. It all has to come out or you’ve no hope of getting dressed any time soon.

 My life for the next 8 months basically is all right there. Obviously I haven’t shown you any of the cool on deck sailing stuff yet, but don’t worry, we’ll get there soon. We move the boat to Cannes on Monday and start race training in a few weeks. There you’ll get to meet my fabulous stewardess who I couldn’t live without as we peel off wet clothes after a hard day’s sailing, make tea and snacks for the rest of the crew, looking like we never had a hair out of place all day, cooking dinner and sandwich fillings for the next day’s sail… Its my turn to buy the next bottle of Gin Sian, don’t worry I’m on it.

Hope you can join us for it, its going to be an amazing season.

An Explanation Of Sorts

Its a funny thing when you think about it. Or rather, for those of us who haven't written anything more public then a facebook status, its somewhat unnerving, that anyone might be at all interested in reading about what 'Im' doing.  I should comfort myself with the thought that right now at least and maybe for a while yet, I am without doubt writing to...well myself. And maybe my Mum. Phew. I can relax and crack on. She says I look good in a sack so she'll like it.

I'll be bold and consider myself an attractive 5 minutes read. I dont wish to take up too much of your time. I've been reading some blogs and some of them dont half go on a bit. I think my blog is  going to be interesting but I dont want to push it. Little and often will be my phrase!  Talking of which, thats how one should eat apparently; which leads us nicely onto the subject which brings me here in the first place - Food, Glorious Food!

Haha!, Lovely, lovely. Even writing the word 'food' had me downstairs making a pot of fresh coffee and breaking off some still-warm, french bread, smearing it with butter and honey. I eat alot (lots and often in fact) and the reason my french bread was still warm is because I picked it up from the market this morning. And the reason I did that is because I am currently living in a house in 'La Garde Freinet'; a small-ish village in the South of France near St Tropez (darling) And One does that when One is in France on a sunday morning.

The house is fondly known as 'The Crew House'. And this time of year its occupants are growing in numbers to make up what will be 'the Crew'.  We are the lucky crew who work on a beautiful classic yacht called 'Mariquita' (pictured). This year she will celebrate her 100th Birthday. 

Our season really starts hotting up around April when all the crew will have arrived from far flung places. We move onto the boat and soon we will start our race training. Without going into it too much, we are primarily a race boat and we'lll be racing in 8 Classic yacht regattas this year around the Mediterranean. Its hard work. And its great fun. Its all done as classically as possible which means we pull everything up by hand without the aid of electric winches. Block and tackle, jiggers and stoppers and best of all, we get to sing sea shanties. No, really, we do.

Whats all this got to do with food? Well I am the cook. Im also Staysail number 1, when we're racing, but primarily I get to cook for 12 hungry sailors on a boat, on a budget and sometimes on an angle. My little 'Force Ten', gimbled oven and I have had some adventures, not always good and there may have been some words, usually not good. Cooking in a kitchen thats being thrown around in every direction can be a challenge and isn't for everyone. But despite what my oven might think, I like that. 

So my blog will be about the recipes I mostly tend to create for 6-12 people, using ingredients from around the Med and some that we have 'plucked' from the sea and actually my first recipe may well be a 'road-kill' wild boar daube, that we scraped off the tarmac not far from here. (my second amateur butchering experience)

For unlike some big boats, we dont have a nice, big budget. But thats more fun, realistic and a good thing and again, I like the challenge.

Why 33 Degrees?  Nothing technical and Im no Mason. Im just 33 years old, (that was honest!) cook with degrees heat, sometimes on an angle and well, hey, I thought it had a nice ring to it. So please join me for cooking experiences, recipes, and sailing adventures. 

Cooking on a beautiful classic sailing yacht. My life at 33 degrees.