The mist persists all the way to Kingsbridge but I am at the butchers by 9.30. I've ordered two lamb legs and a shoulder. The butcher is going to butterfly the legs. But Mr Darke hasn't arrived with the lamb. We phone him and he's still about 15 minutes away. Since I'm parked on the free parking on Fore Street I have 30 minutes. Better get going.
I walk down the hill towards The Old Bakery. The air is wet and there's a drizzle. Giorgio is baking us a Baklava. When I arrive Giorgio is in a daze. He went to Catalunya over the weekend and spent Saturday evening at elBulli in Roses with 5 of his mates. He has experienced nirvana or something like that...Adria's first principle is that:
"Cooking is a language through which all the following properties may be expressed: harmony, creativity, happiness, beauty, poetry, complexity, magic, humour, provocation and culture."This is all very well and under other circumstances I'd be fascinated. But I've already seen the traffic warden looking at his stopwatch and I have 17 for supper. I ask Giorgio to cover the Baklava as it's raining outside. I pick up the Baklava and promise to return his baking tray the next day.
Walking back up Fore Street carrying a well-used baking tray roughly covered in foil I get odd looks from the passers-by. Going into Alan's Apple I get more odd looks. I set down the tray and set about picking up the final bits that I need.
I've been buying parsley and mint since last Thursday. Every time I see either of them I've bought all I can. In London I can buy large bags of both but here it's packed in tiny little bags. I have plans for an industrial sized Tabouleh and need a pound of parsley and four ounces of mint. Building this up out of 15g bags has been a labour of love. Fortunately I am able to get the last supplies required from Alan. I walk up to the car and put the herbs and the baklava in the boot.
21 minutes gone. Has the lamb arrived? Walking back to the top of the hill the traffic wardens (yes, there are two) are still comparing stop watches. At Lidstones the lamb has arrived. It is already split and by the time I arrive three butchers are working on the limbs I intent to take away. I don't have time to bone everything nor do I have a mallet here so they are boning the legs and hammering them flat for me. I look at my watch.
With the lamb finally done and paid for I accelerate out of the shop and down the hill. The wardens are in conference about the car one above me. I have taken 33 minutes but there is no ticket. I toss the meat into the coolbox in the boot, give them a cheery wave, and pull out into Fore Street. It's still raining.
In Kingsbridge the mist has lifted but as I head back to Salcombe it's clear that there is still mist at the coast. When I arrive back there's still a thick mist in the valley. The wife goes out to meet a girl friend. Fortunately I have 'S' to help in the kitchen.
We plan a simple supper but because of the numbers there's still a lot to do. After cutting up the Rhubarb she gets to work on the tabouleh. Dicing 1 1/2lb cherry tomatoes, and fine chopping 1 1/4lb herbs takes the best part of 90 minutes and the whole tabbouleh takes over two hours. This leaves another hour or so for her to make the flat bread dough and the focaccia dough.
Meanwhile I sort out the meat. The butterflied legs will be spiced and left all dayto marinade then (I hope) barbequed. I plan plain leg kebabs for those who don't want spice and a Kofte for those that don't fancy either of those. Kofte and Kebab can be cooked inside if necessary.Each leg needs more trimming to remove surplus fat from the skin and I tidy up the shape. I use the big pestle to grind 10 tablespoons of cumin seeds, paprika and salt and paste this over the cut side of both of the legs and sprinkle them with wild thyme. I turn the leg trimmings into similarly sized cubes and marinade these in yoghurt and garlic. The I turn the shoulder into Adana kebab (recipe here) using both the slicing knife and the magimix gently. It takes more than an hour to finalise the meat.
The next task is to to prep the other salad. This is a delicious Ottolenghi concoction of chargrilled asparagus, cougettes and haloumi dressed with basil oil. I've already started the tomatoes as these need to be oven dried. 1lb tiny cherry tomatoes are halved and dressed with olive oil, salt and pepper and dried on baking parchment for an hour or so at 150. By the time the meat is done these are ready and are taken out to cool. But I still need to char grill 36 asparagus spears and 4 courgettes sliced thinly long ways as well as 16 slices of haloumi. The Risolli griddle is fantastic or this but I could really use three of them and three big gas rings. It takes another hour to do all this, make the basil oil and assemble the salad.
Two industrial sized salads, 3 meat preps, 2 bread doughs later we move on to the smaller tasks. Crushing the garlic for the yoghurt dressing and assembling this, folding cream into the rhubarb and chilling it and a myriad of other small culinary endeavours. It is soon 2.30 and the wife returns from her coffee morning. Time to clean up. The wife supervises cleanliness and tidyness and at 3.00 it is time for 'S' to leave. We are 'en place'.The young man is going to the Isle of Wight again tomorrow to stay with a mate (it's Cowes Week). The wife will drive him to Lymington and put him on the ferry to Yarmouth. Then she will go on to London and work 2 days before driving another mate of the young man's from London to Lymington, picking up the young man and ferrying them both back to Devon. All this means that, if I am to stay in Devon, we need to hire a car for me as she will take the tractor.
I've arranged to pick one up in a village just outside Totnes so we need to do that pronto as it is less than 2 1/2 hours 'till dinner guests will arrive. I drive us all to the garage to find that they have reserved me a hot Kia. After completing the paperwork I wind up the elastic band on the 'Picante' and wonder what the funny lever sticking out of the floor in the middle is for. On the way back every time I want to turn right the windscreen wipers turn off. When I want to turn on the windscreen wipers the car indicates right. I resolve to learn Korean as soon as I return. 25 minutes later we are all back at the cottage in our various vehicles and the Kia didn't need any more winding. It's still drizzling.
5.oo: guests in an hour. I make up the barbecue in the drizzle. The wife and son lay the table. Then at 5.30 I turn my attention to the flat bread. I can cook two at a time. They take 4-5 minutes. I need 16. Five eights are forty. No time to loose.
I'm halfway through the baking when the first people arrive. It's 'A' my first cousin once removed and her husband 'Aa' and their two children. I have never met the children - they are both under two - but they must be my first cousins twice removed. This means my father is their great great uncle. It all gets a bit confusing but I think this means that the children are the young man's third cousins. (You might be able to work it out using this). Anyway at least I get a bit of help with the baking. 'Aa' glazes' the flat bread whilst the young man watches them in the oven and yanks them out when they're ready putting two more in their place. This is good as we still have to bake the focaccia. I have a moment to go out in the rain and light the fire.
Everybody else arrives within 15 minutes. It turns out that some of them have been on the beach at Hope Cove. I had forgotten what it is to have todlers. The house is soon filled with childish laughter and the inevitable childish crying. We break out the picture jigsaws and mini jenga and my cousin does a passable imitation of being a grandfather whilst the other two cousins try to look great auntish. One of them has become a grandmother this week. Since my two older cousins are a year and two years older than me and we have a fourteen year old I begin to wonder about the maths. I was convinced I was still a teenager.
By now the wine and conversation is flowing, the bread is baked and the fire is hot. I have decided to sear the legs on the fire then finish them in the oven at 240. I brave the rain to put the first leg on as the wife starts to rearrange everything into a buffet line.
The first leg is soon seared and replaced on the fire by the second but not before I cause a grand conflagration of lamb fat. The young man puts out the resulting fire with a bottle of Evian...Meanwhile I cook the Adana kebab and the plain kebabs on the Risoli. After a day of prep the cooking is brief indeed and all the meat is soon cooked, rested and ready to be served. A long line forms at the counter.
We can manage 12 round the two tables and there are three arm chairs. Amazingly this seems to seat everybody eventually. Much wine has now been consumed (and not all of it by me). Our conversation ranges across cricket and helicopters, the fire department and schools, children and parents and much else.
All too soon it's time to return to various hide outs in the South Hams. We see everyone out to their cars in the rain.
It's good to get the family together...
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