Necessity is the mother of invention.
I devised this dish within weeks of our restaurant opening at Seaton Carew.
The menu included among many other things, three dishes with beef fillet as the main ingredient. Two required one eight ounce piece of fillet, known as Tournedos and one, the Bellini used three medallions.
I was left with the tail end which I could not use after slicing the fillet. So I used to quickly sauté the leftovers, cut them into strips and share them among those present.
After a few weeks I realised that those nibbles cost exactly as much as the Tournedos itself and my kitchen gross profit began suffering.
I decided to try and “invent” a dish to use them up. In food, you can be assured that everything has already been invented. It is just a question of playing about with various combinations of basic ingredients and hopefully ending up with something palatable.
Using various condiments, herbs, alcohols, etc… I experimented over a period of two or three weeks. Karen was my chief taster, my barometer not to say my guinea-pig. If she liked a dish, I knew that everyone else would. If she didn´t like it, then she pulled no punches.
For days she turned her nose up at all my early attempts. Just as I began losing hope of ever creating a new sauce, she smiled and the Paesano was born!
Why Peasano?
Krimo’s started out as an Italian restaurant also serving pastas and pizzas. Paesano is the Italian for peasant. No idea where the brainwave came from but that was all I could come up with at the time.
Karen fell in love with the dish and I put it on the menu she sold it and sold it.
Within a few weeks, the fillet ends were not enough. I began using whole fillets cut into strips to meet the demand.
To this day, it is still the most popular dish on our menu. The recipe is very simple: garlic, sage, mustard and cream.
Many local restaurants have tried but sadly failed to reproduce this simple sauce. On several menus, I have seen “Paesano” spelt various ways, pisano, passano, etc…
Imitation is the best form of flattery…
Paesano...
Credit Crunch...
I'm sure that most of us have gone through a few of those in our life, survived and even gained a few pounds. Well, I have.
We humans are resilient and we adapt. We can all make a penny stretch if we have to. We all know how to save money on food. We can all make panfuls of soups, slow-cook cheaper cuts of meat, grow vegetables, keep chickens, etc...
But all these money-saving ideas demand dedication, motivation and getting up from in front of the telly.
Are we prepared to act now or shall we wait until the fridge is empty before we begin panicking?
When I was a student, a million years ago, at Sunderland Poly (1976), my food intake followed the same pattern every month.
The beginning of the month, having just received my grant, I used to splash out on nice bottle of Medoc, a leg of lamb and green beans.
But as my funds dwindled, the daily menu went from a feast to a famine in just thirty days:
Fillet steak-sirloin steak-stewing steak-minced meat
Chicken breast...chicken leg...chicken thigh...chicken drumstick
Spag Bol...Spag and tomato sauce...macaroni-cheese...macaroni-butter
Chicken soup...chick pea soup...warm water...cold water
By which time I was gasping for the end of the month to arrive along with my grant.
I think I inherited my resilience from my mother, bless her soul. She was a very inventive cook and a great motivator. At least three times a week she converted us kids into vegetarians without even preaching. She just couldn't afford meat...
Cartoon Courtesy of The Guardian.
Time flies when you're having fun!!
Before my grandaughter, Evie sat down for her first pizza at Portofino when she was about 2½ years old, it was just an empty room on the Historic Quay.
In the hands of a small team of dedicated workers headed by Malcolm the joiner from Seaham, that empty space was transformed into what has turned out to be the most popular pizzeria (allegedly according to our customers) in Hartlepool.
They worked from July to October sometimes seven days a week to follow my unwritten plans.
Every day we started with a new idea, a new way of titivating the place.
From mosaics to murals, window shutters to balconies... Nothing was planned.
The joiner's mate turned out to be a graphic designer and we got him roped into creating a mural. A patisserie shopfront. Delightful.
A long-standing friend, now in Canada helped tile the toilets among other things.
The whole family contributed. Painting, stencilling, cleaning...
Nowadays, on a busy night when the place is bouncing, I look around and remember the days when, alone well into the evening, I chopped tiny bits of tiles and stuck them onto the walls in various patterns invented on the spot.
Yep! The proof is definitely in the eating...
New York never sleeps...
And neither does Colin...
Friday morning, I texted to wish him a good time, as he happens to be in New York for a pre-Christmas break. I asked him to say hello to Obama from me if he happened to see him.
"Will do. It's great here.
Went to a restaurant called Gilt last night. Check it out online. It has 2 stars. Was awesome as the Yanks say.
By the way it's 5 hours behind here. Lol."
Oops... I had forgotten about the time difference and had sent him a text just after 9 am.
Spookery Programmes...
They spook me out!
Cookery programmes that are transformed into a lukewarm foody version of the X-Factor.
Down to the incidental music, the tic-toc, the suspense, the bated breath...
"The chef who is coming back next week isssss..."
Before the name is announced, you have ample time to head for the kitchen, whip yourselves a three-egg omelette, two slices of toast and a cup a tea.
"The chef who is going home this week isssss..."
Fancy a quick pizza? You have all the time in the world to make the whole thing from scratch. Flour, yeast, cheese, tomatoes, anchovies, olives, etc...
Marco Pierre White, Gordon Ramshead, Raymond Blanc, Jamie Oliver, Anthony Worrall-Thompson, Michel Roux, Jean Christophe Novelli, Ronald McDonald... The whole lot of them are getting on the bandwagon!
Yesterday afternoon, I flicked to ITV and there was gentle Rosemary Shrager teaching a bunch of budding chefs how to make pastry, ice cream in relaxed, beautiful surroundings.
A breath of fresh air of a cookery programme...
...That is until she got up on her pedestal and put on her X-Factor voice and said:
"The chef who is coming back next week isssss..."
I got up and went to work.
Fireworks...
Tonight, Hartlepool skies sparkled with shooting stars...
Get a map and a box of pins. Ask all those who intend to light up fireworks to do so at an exact moment in time.
Everyone would have synchronised their watch before the start... Hah!
Congratulations!
Precious Herbs...
I suddenly had a brainwave! A tiny ad in the Hartlepool Mail.
Fresh herbs desperately
wanted by restaurant.
Please call...
The following day my photo, with chef's hat and all, appeared on the front page! There mustn't have been any major crimes to report that day. A two-column story followed.
"Chef... Herbs...blah...blah...blah"
My restaurant was besieged by gardeners and housewives loaded with herbs... Parsley, Thyme, Green Sage, Purple Sage, Apple Mint, Spearmint, Lemon Mint, Rosemary... and... LOVAGE! I had no idea such a lovely herb existed.
I was overwhelmed by the response.
The next day the Mail did a follow-up story in which it passed on my thanks to those helpful people, especially the ones who who had anonymously placed bagfuls of herbs through the restaurant's letterbox. A practice that went on for months.
Nowadays, just go to any neighbourhood supermarket and you will find an amazing array of fresh herbs.
That's the Power of the Press for you...
PS:
Will the person who keeps dropping dead leaves in front of our restaurants every autumn please remove them. They are NOT herbs!
Telephone Wind-up...
aThe US election reports have now been pushed into second place in the news agenda by Russel Brand and Jonathan Ross's telephone antics. Brand has now quit the BBC and Ross has been suspended for the next three months.
The younger generations don't see all the fuss while old foggies like me think that they really went too far this time. I personally will never agree with swearing on the telly. Filthy-mouth Gordon Ramsay has a lot to answer for.
But I am all for telephone wind-ups when they are funny!
Just like the time, when our most famous local DJ, Paul "Goffy" Gough set me up by getting an impersonator to pretend president Mandela wanted a table at Krimo's...
The guy really sounded like our Nelson, but did I fall for the scam?
No Way, José!
Later Goffy sent me a copy of his wind-ups CD. Funny but not obnoxious!
Read The Hartlepool Mail Story.
We have the X-Factor...
On a very cold Saturday night in Hartlepool, Portofino was warmed up by the appearance of a young lady who had reached the X-Factor final with the girl-band, Bad Lashes.
Sophie was a surprise present for her father's birthday.
She performed with the well known Hartlepool guitar player, Andrew Ingledew (My teacher).
Several new customers enquired whether this was a regular occurrence.
We could've told a small fib but preferred to own up and explain why the X-Factor fever had reached Portofino....
Halloween at Portofino...
Great fun!
A "gentle" pumpkin carved by Noel. A couple of kids said it wasn't scary.
Costumes galore!
Joe had a black eye and a pizza, I think...
Soup of the day: Cream of Pumpkin! Don't say it too fast...
A Belgian Beauty...
Terry Hanlon, the once-gentle-HUFC-Hospitality-Main-Man has started a new Facebook group called Sprouts Out.
I have joined it as an undercover-agent-provocateur.
Not because I do not like Brussels sprouts, on the contrary I love them! I joined this extremist group to try and undermine Terry's malicious campaign to discredit the beautiful and versatile sprout.
I met and fell in love with this beautiful, well-rounded, firm vegetable when I first landed on these exotic isles, over 33 years ago.
There she sat, alone, all green and shy on my dustbin lid of a plate, surrounded by generous slices of roast beef, a pile of shrivelled peas, a few sad baby carrots and a giant Yorkshire pudding.
I wondered who and what she was. I had never seen anything like her back in Algeria. The host explained: something about Brussels.
My limited understanding of the English language back then led me to wonder why the chocolate-loving Belgians would sprout such a weird-looking vegetable.
I caught it with my fork after several attempts. It felt and tasted like a water-filled balloon. My first encounter with the sprout did not have a happy ending.
Yet, I am glad to say, our relationship did not fizzle out, instead it flourished when we began experimenting. Butter, toasted nuts, bacon, lemon, etc...
Nowadays a roast is not a roast without a few Brussels sprouts on the plate.
You see I have grown to love anything Belgian, especially sprouts and chocolates, with the exception of kids who wet themselves in public.
A Delighted Mascot...
A very special day for my 8-year old grandson, Alex. I got a call from Terry Hanlon, from the Hartlepool United marketing team. He asked if Alex was coming the match against Brighton because he had been chosen as Pools mascot for the day.
Terry took us both to the players dressing room where Alex got his photo taken with every single player and each one of them signed his matchday programme.
The electonic scoreboard was unveiled for the first time and guess whose name was up in lights?
Alex then led out the players, walking along captain Sam Collins. He shook hands with the referee, linesmen and the Brighton players before taking his seat next to me under the complimentary smiles and pats-on-the-back of our neighbouring Pools fans.
The day was crowned with a one-nil win against Brighton courstesy of Kevin Kyle in the 12th minute.
Using our loaf...
The price of bread has shot up in the last few months.
Many reasons for this: Last summer's floods, world wheat production, oil prices, etc...but to name a few.
Does this stop us from eating bread? No chance!
Bread is life. Well, for me, anyway.
During the French Revolution, it is alleged that when Marie-Antoinette was told that the French people had no bread to eat, she flippantly said:"Qu'ils mangent de la brioche!" "Let them eat cake!"
No, thank you! I'd rather have a slice of brown granary bread, you know, the one with all the healthy seeds and so on.
A little while ago a friend of mine acquired a bread maker. He swears by it and says it is a piece of cake to use. You bang everything in, switch it on and a couple of hours later, you're can enjoy delicious, fresh bread.
I can think of many things that could be had instead of bread. Things such as pasta, couscous, rice, etc...
But can these replace bread?
Resto Rants....
I understand customers.
Honest, I really do.
After all, I am very often a customer myself. At the local supermarket, cinema, petrol station, or even another restaurant, I am a customer. So, if I say I understand customers, I really mean it. It’s not as if they’re from outer-space. Well, a few of them are, but we won’t go into that.
They’re more often than not, your next door neighbour, the supermarket checkout girls, etc… Maybe the odd restaurant inspector, every now and then.
As a restaurant customer and an industry insider, I really enjoy attentive service, a smiling waitress, one who listens to your order carefully and gets it right. “Medium rare? That’s how I like it, sir.”
But sometimes, an attentive wine waiter can spoil your meal. As your glass is topped up between sips you find that you’ve guzzled your fairly expensive wine well before you’ve finished your starter.
“Can I get you another bottle, sir?”
On one occasion lately, an over-zealous sommelier as they like to be called, grabbed the bottle off my hand as I tried to top up my glass.
“Does he think I am incapable of pouring myself a drop? Is there a special way of filling your glass?”
Oh, and the other thing that truly annoys me is the giant black pepper grinder! As introduced by cheap Italian trattorias in the 70’s. As if the carefully prepared food is going to be improved by a pinch of black pepper! Mind you, in some restaurants, it can be.
And this archaic practice has led customers to underrate your restaurant if you don’t happen to own a porn-sized grinder.
As always I say if you can’t beat them, join them.
“Black pepper, madam?”
“What? On my ice cream?”
Food for thought...
Kevin, Casa's head-chef sent me an email depicting lots of Chinese delicacies, including Lizards Tails, Dog Brain Soup, Scorpion Brochettes, etc...
I have total respect for people's (weird) tastes. After all, I like olives smothered with chili, roast beef dripping with blood, whole ungutted fish, so who am I to talk?
I hear that down in the deepest confines of the Algerian Sahara, deep-fried crickets are absolutely delicious. I have never tasted them but being open-minded I'd give them a try as long as there is a bottle of Tabasco nearby.
But I definitely draw the line at Seahorses...
I don't think I've ever seen a live one, but just do check out Finding Nemo... The Seahorses look so pretty and lovable...
I can't imagine them skewered, let alone barbequed.
Where do you draw the line?
Plucking more than chickens...
Around what seems like a million years ago, (Summer 1962 to be exact), my brother received a guitar as a present. It must have been after he passed the Baccalauréat on his way to university.
He left it at home, so I dabbled with it, not really knowing how to hold let alone how to play it. I used to lay it on the dining table and pluck the strings like a sitar.
Over the years, I have dreamed of learning to play this beautiful intrument. I tried on my own a few times, with books and videos... Not a chance! I couldn't grasp it.
At the last count I reckon I have had 3 or 4 teachers. Very patient ones.
Guitar playing requires constant practice. And that itself calls for a lot of patience. Something I lack.
My latest tutor is a well known local guitar player who practises his craft in various local restaurants, including Casa del Mar for a while. I plucked my guitar strings in front of him and he immediately knew that the only style I would be comfortable with was Spanish.
Since my brother brought back a few records from his 1965 Spain trip, I fell in love with that music. Flamenco pulls my strings like no other music.
There is one piece by Joachim Rodrigo called El concierto de Aranjuez which always makes me melt when I hear it.
It was even played in the film Brassed Off although it is affectionately referred to as Concerto de Orange Juice...
I have just learned how to put music on websites, and guess what, I have placed this piece on Casa's Menu Page so that you can listen to it while perusing our tapas...
It's not me playing by the way.
I wish...
My guitar having a rest...
Never too old to learn...
There are many who say that you cannot teach an old dog new tricks. I say that you're never too old to learn new tricks or brush up on your old ones...
When earlier this year I was offered a training programme called Profit through Productivity, I jumped at the opportunity. I must say that I picked up many useful tips to help us run the restaurants better, especially in this shaky economic climate.
Our company is now being used as a case study to entice others to join the programme.
I should really be amazed at how busy all three restaurants still are despite the constant barrage by newspapers, radio and television of impeding gloom and doom, but... guess what?
I am not!
As I explained in an earlier post, when people have very little spare money, they usually go for the tried-and-tested, (should really be the tried-and-trusted)
Fingers crossed, we'll ride this recession like all the ones we've been through over the last 23 years. 
Tapas to go... going well...
...Like hot cakes, in fact!
Many of the employees from nearby offices usually have a sandwich from the local shop but since Adam and his team introduced the Tapas 2 Go, their tastebuds have been tickled.
A few of the staff from our other restaurants have also become addicted to this easy, tasty treat after a busy shift.
The proof is in the eating, as they say and it seems that Adam has also fallen for the Tapas 2 Go... Both he and Hayley have become partial to them.
Most expensive food...
Caviar is just simply fish roe (eggs). Though the best comes from the Beluga Sturgeon, one can always make do with lumpfish or salmon caviars at around £5 a jar.
Beluga Caviar which comes from the Caspian sea can cost at least £2000 a kilo.
It is the most expensive food item in the world!
Sturgeons can weigh up to two tonnes and prized more for their eggs than their meat.
Caviar is usually served on a warm toast for very special occasions.
I personally have tried real Caviar only once and, though I liked it very much, I still do no see what the fuss is all about.
Can you?
(photo courtesy of Wikipedia)
The Great North Run...
A beautiful morning for an increasingly popular event. Twenty-eighth year! One of the most exciting half-marathons in the world!
Fifty-two thousands runners!
From the very professional looking for a record to the casual runner raising a few pounds for charity.
Everyone is a winner!
Last night, in all our three restaurants, we had many competitors filling up on carbohydrates to help them stay the course.
At Portofino, it is very easy to spot them. Their food order is pasta for starters, pasta for main-course and if they were allowed, it would be pasta for dessert.
And all that with a huge garlic bread!
At Krimo's they opted for proteins because they were totally fed-up with carbohydrates.
The Great North Run attracts people from all over the world. For a few days, the whole of the North East benefits from it. Hotels, restaurants and various other businesses see this weekend as one of the busiest of the year.
Great stories, great motivation...
Photos courtesy of the BBC
