Simple. Fresh. Fishy. As my focus on food has increased recently (a holdover from travel mixed with a sensitive stomach and a growing interest in food security), simple and fresh is what I value most. I want a few ingredients that I can really taste. I want every part of my plate to be homemade. I want to feel connected to the food I’m eating. The mediterraneans do this like no others. The sea is in my nose as I eat the fish caught that morning.
We indulged on all the local delicacies. We ate half a Bifada (marinated pork sandwich) for breakfast and stashed the second half in our rucksack to eat on the beach with salty lips and sandy fingers. We had at least one pastel de nata a day. Our first was collected en route to the boat one morning, carefully placed in the rucksack and eaten on our very own stretch of beach on Ilha Deserta. Our teeth slid through the thick, subtlely lemon set custard to reach the perfect, crispy pastry. We actually groaned in appreciation. We ate delicious, ripe, Portugal-grown strawberries whilst sunbathing topless on the empty beach. We devoured crisps after that incredible post-beach pre-dinner evening shower. Pistachio gelato was savoured. Every meal was accompanied with fresh bread, fish pate, olive oil and marinated carrots and olives. Seafood adorned every plate. Or more marinated pork. We ate well, we drank well (hello green wine, sangria and cheap, cold beer).
We moaned about the lack of good seafood in Britain. We were an island nation, why was our best offering greasy, battered cod? I vowed to visit my local fishmongers (yes, of course we have a fishmongers in Islington). My next dinner party would be centred around a fish dish I decided.
We also discussed food security and I realised it was my main interest outside of work. Food is life, how we produce food has a momentous impact on the environment, access to food is the most pressing issue in poverty, and lack of access to good food is an enormous barrier to leaving that poverty behind.