10 ways to make the best of the 10pm curfew

There’s no doubt about it the new 10pm closing time is bad for restaurants and pubs. Having a son who’s a restaurateur (no, he didn’t ask me to write this!) I feel it keenly on his behalf. From fine dining establishments to takeaways many rely on a late sitting to balance the books.

Already stories are circulating that people are cancelling 8pm bookings because they have to leave by 10. My first reaction was that that was because they’re under 40 but most likely not. It’s just that we’re all too set in our ways.

So maybe the plan for the next few months - helping restaurants out in the process - should be to be more flexible about the time and way we eat out.

Here are 10 strategies to help you survive the 10 o’clock curfew:

1. Eat early evening

It’s bad for you to go to bed on a heavy stomach anyway, didn’t your mum tell you? That means booking further ahead as 7pm slots are going to be in high demand. (Remember if you book and can’t make it let the restaurant know. Please. Life is hard enough for them as it is without dealing with no-shows)

2. Breakfast late and eat earlier still

You may have sneered at Americans who eat dinner at 5pm. Not such a bad idea now though is it? It probably means having a late breakfast or brunch rather than lunch however. A better strategy for the weekend, admittedly, but do-able for those of us who WFH (work from home)

3. Bring back elevenses

If you breakfast early, on the other hand, you deserve a coffee break with maybe the teensiest slice of cake. Or, if you want to do it in flamboyant style, Bob Bob Ricard in Soho just introduced a Waffle & Bellini hour at weekends from 11am-12noon. Maybe one to try at home?

4. Go out to lunch rather than dinner

You do it on a Sunday, why not the rest of the week? You’re at work? Fair enough but working from home? Come on, why not skive off for a sneaky Friday - or Hump Day, come to that - treat. And if you find that hard to justify start your working day earlier and . . .

5. . . . revive the late lunch

Remember the days pre-Gordon Gekko when lunch was very much not for wimps. Start at 3, go on till 6 - or the 10pm curfew if you’ve the stamina for it and they’ll let you keep the table

6. Bring back high tea

A great British tradition which deserves to be resurrected. Bacon and egg pie? Ham egg and chips? Thick slices of fresh white bread slathered with butter? Followed by crumpets and cake (although possibly not if you’ve already had elevenses - see 3, above). Think 5pm-ish.

7. Go for a dish

We seem to have got into the habit of feeling we need to order more than one course when we go to restaurants - several if we’re sharing with friends. Which may be one reason why I actually managed to lose weight during lockdown. I wasn’t eating out all the time. The French have got it right with their plat du jour. Just go for the daily special and a nice glass of wine. As one restaurateur (The Drapers Arms in Islington) tweeted:

"Our booking system remains open until 9pm. Apart from anything else we remain a pub & you are still welcome to come & just have a drink. We’ve a few bottles that would struggle to last 59 minutes. I also think if you walk in sit down order a steak & a glass we can get that done."

8. Eat on your own

Worried that you’ll seem like Billy No-mates? It goes against the grain, doesn’t it? But there’s something really nice about realising you don’t *have* to have a solitary ready meal at home and nipping into your friendly local. And you can do it ANY TIME YOU LIKE without having to juggle diaries with your friends.

9. Go home and have a nightcap

Honestly it’s not the end of the world if you have to leave a restaurant at 10pm or even earlier. Go home, curl up on the sofa (or better still in bed) with a nice whisky, a tot of rum or, um, a mug of Horlicks. Whatever rocks your boat. What are autumn evenings for?

10. Buy a meal or bottle to take away

Finally many restaurants are 'pivoting' - as we must apparently now call it - to a business model that involves trading as a takeaway, deli and/or bottle shop. (What’s wrong with the good old word ‘adapting’?). Whatever - you could support them by buying a meal or ingredients from them rather than going to the supermarket. Or an extra bottle of that wine you enjoyed to drink at home.

In short restaurants are resilient (they have to be), resourceful but also really up against it. If we want them to be there for us in six months, never mind twelve months’ time it’s up to us to be flexible too.

Whether you’re a restaurateur, publican or a customer, I''d love to know how you’re dealing with the 10 o’clock curfew.

Top image by Dmitry Zimin at Shutterstock.com

8 instagram accounts to inspire you to cook

Lockdown may have been relaxed and restaurants reopened but most of us are still cooking the majority of the time at home and in desperate need of fresh inspiration.

Worry not - you can find it on instagram! Here are 8 accounts that should fire up your culinary mojo

@dianahenryfood

Not only does Diana Henry write fantastic cookbooks* but her instagram feed features a ‘useful’ (and invariably delicious) recipe most days and explains in the most relaxed possible way how you can adapt it with the ingredients you may have to hand. Recent ones, which are cleverly tailored to the time of the week, include pasta with pistachio and ricotta pesto and chicken thighs with feta, lemon and dill (which I can personally vouch for having already made it twice!)

*most recently From the Oven to the Table

@sabrinaghayour

Actually maybe this should be Mama Ghayour, the real star of the show whose self-confessed incompetence at cooking and all other domestic skills are gently ribbed by her daughter. Sabrina’s recipe suggestions, often made with store cupboard ingredients or from her books (Persiana, Sirocco, Bazaar and Feast) are great too. There are tantalising glimpses of the recipes in her new book Simply including yoghurt and spice-roasted salmon and Persian Koobideh lamb kebabs. It's out next month so you don't have long to wait!

@honeyandco

Itamar Srulovich and Sarit Packer can do no wrong so far as I’m concerned. I’ve loved all their Honey & Co books but for understandable reasons they’ve recently been focussing more on their new opening Katish Katash and the mouthwatering takeaway menu from their honeyandspicedeli but the real joy is seeing them in action in their kitchen. I can’t wait to make the wonderfully simple blueberry and apple jam they've just posted. Someone should give them a TV show

@puffthebakery

If your pastry skills leave something to be desired - join the club - you may want to enrol at pastry chefs Nicole and Rav’s Puff School of Pastry. You have to pay to attend the classes but you get a tantalising glimpse of what they’re making from their insta account (personally I’m lusting after the ‘creamy dreamy Basque cheesecake and the the peach and thyme tatin) I haven’t joined yet but I’m thinking about it . . .

@roopagul

I got into Roopa Gulati’s IGTV videos through the recipes in her latest book India: The World Vegetarian which my Zoom cooking groups had tackled with great success* but love watching her in action too. It’s like hanging out with your best friend who just happens to be a brilliant cook but also has the knack of explaining things simply and patiently. If you’re feeling stressed watch Roopa.

• her paneer and crisp-fried onions are amazing.

@rosettacostantino

Another reassuring presence in the kitchen and one I wasn’t aware of before insta, Rosetta is an Italian cookery teacher and tour guide whose feed is based on what she is cooking from her Californian garden. (If you have a courgette glut Rosetta is your woman). As a former engineer she’s particularly good on technique but also a natural enthusiast. Basically she’ll make you a better cook.

@ellypear

There is no more industrious ‘grammer than @ellypear who catalogues everything she makes both in her regular posts and her ‘Stories’. She is the undisputed queen of the fridge forage and can make amazingly delicious meals (mainly vegetarian with the occasional bit of fish) out of the most random bits and pieces. All beautifully styled too. Oh, and she’s a mean sourdough bread baker - not that I'm tempted to resume after my experiences during lockdown.)

@rocketandsquash (also top photo credit)

It’s no coincidence that the people who are good at ‘gramming are good in print too and Ed Smith (whose book On the Side I constantly refer to is no exception. Often his posts - like his goose-currant flapjacks - generously include recipes but even when there isn’t one his enthusiasm is infectious. He’s also been reviewing restaurant ‘at home’ kits too if you simply can’t face making another meal from scratch.

How to make up for not going to restaurants

‘God I miss restaurants!’ has been the plaintive cry on Twitter from quite a few of us lately. This lockdown makes me realise how often I normally eat out and how much I enjoy the warm, welcoming buzz of my favourite places. Not to mention those cosy suppers huddled with friends round the kitchen table.

Given that we’ve got to be socially distanced for the foreseeable future and that nobody knows when restaurants will be open again we need something to look forward to in order to survive. And I think I’ve nailed it.

Like everyone else I’ve discovered Zoom but instead of just using it for online drinks (fun though that is) I’ve been cooking and eating with friends I’ve previously cooked with in real life.

Cooking on Zoom

The first experiment was over the Easter weekend when a group of us made my Guardian colleague Rachel Roddy’s Torta Pasqualina, a celebratory spinach, egg ricotta pie. Understandably Rachel chose not to hang out with us online while we made it - would you want your recipe picked over by a group of food writers? - but joined us for a drink afterwards while we proudly showed off our results. (The very light, crisp pastry, which also contains ricotta, is particularly good.) I will definitely make it for Easter again.

A week or so later two other friends and I had a go at a couple of recipes in Ben Tish’s Moorish, the stuffed piquillo peppers with brandade and stuffed aubergines with almonds and preserved lemon - the first time I’ve ever made brandade. (Yes, it did involve a lot of stuffing, including stuffing our faces.)

Another small group I'm involved with tackled Sami Tamimi’s lovely new book Falastin, making the really excellent muhammara (roasted red pepper and walnut dip below) and koftas with tahini and potato. Meanwhile Group 1 had a go at his cauliflower and cumin fritters (another winner) and seared seabass with lemon and tomato sauce.

The rules of the game are that you decide on a book then discuss which dishes to make. Obviously that’s limited by your skills - my friends are all keen cooks - whether you have, or can get access to the book and what ingredients you have available. My friend Fi for example lives on the Isle of Wight which would make a Korean cooking session, say, challenging while having no outdoor space I couldn’t do a barbecue - let alone manage the practicalities of broadcasting from the garden. But you can always improvise and substitute ingredients - and we did.

Another bonus is the general cooking tips you pick up just in the course of chatting: storing your walnuts - or other nuts - in the fridge or freezer so they don’t go rancid, for example. And often individual elements of a recipe are as useful as the recipe itself. The simple orange and thyme oil, Ben Tish suggests to drizzle over the brandade-stuffed peppers really makes the dish. Sami Tamimi's idea of blitzing a tin of tomatoes in a blender or food processor - richer flavoured and cheaper than using passata - is genius. And, also from Sami, roasting potatoes on baking parchment so they don’t stick to the baking tray.

Then there’s the useful and reassuring process of comparing notes on timings and textures. 'Hey, does this look right? you can ask your mates showing them on-screen though preferably avoiding spilling the juice you’ve carefully strained off a grated tomato onto your laptop. Fortunately I seem to have got away with it.

In terms of numbers I reckon three or four is ideal for Zoom's Gallery View. With a bigger group than that you can’t really follow the conversation or see what’s going on. Or it could just be the two of you. I’m planning a meal with a couple of friends this Saturday based on the kind of food we’d eat if I was staying with them for the weekend, the cookbooks in this case being two established favourites, Diana Henry's From the Oven to the Table and Sabrina Ghayour's Bazaar.

Although it’s fun to cook something that stretches you, there's no reason why you shouldn't cook something as simple as a plate of pasta. I'm plotting a carbonara night with a couple of pals to recreate a fun evening we had at a wonderfully retro Italian restaurant just before lockdown when we downed a classy couple of bottles from the Burgundy tasting we'd been to beforehand. One other consolation, you can at least do BYO under lockdown - no hefty restaurant markups!)

An alternative approach is to eat with your friends but not actually cook with them. Fellow sherry fan Elly Curshen came up with the genius idea of #finofriday for which we made our own food in advance. That could take the pressure off if you don’t feel that confident about your cooking skills or are a bit of a tortoise like me. We’re planning a French-themed follow-up next week in memory of the late, lamented Bar Buvette which I imagine will include charcuterie, cornichons and cheese toasties.

Is your local restaurant online?

You may also find your favourite restaurant online. Owen Morgan, the owner of my local tapas bar, Bar 44, for instance is making videos showing how to make croquetas and their legendary patatas bravas while Freddy Bird of littlefrench did a hilarious cooking demo with TV producer and drink writer Andy Clarke last night showing how to make his awesome roast guineafowl with olives, aioli and chips. For restaurants it’s a good way of keeping the relationship with their customers going. (If you live in Bristol you can still buy ingredients from littlefrench)

It all helps to make up for not being able to go out despite the fact that the endless shopping, chopping, clearing and washing up is a bit of a nightmare. ('Why can’t you just tidy up as you go along?' my husband used to ask plaintively when he walked into a kitchen that looked as if a bomb had hit it.) 'Because I’m concentrating on the FOOD' I used to say. I still am, to my cost.

Please come back soon, restaurants. We miss you.

The top image is not me but a stock image from Marina Andrejchenko at Adobe Stock whose copyright this is.

In praise of mindful wine tasting

A post from the archives that still holds good today ...

The other day I spent a good hour thinking about just four wines I was going to feature in a tasting*. I went back to them several times then re-tried them the next day to get the best sense I could of what they had to offer and how they’d pair with food.

That’s the absolute antithesis of the way professional wine tasters normally proceed. Huge line-up of wines. Pick up a glass, swirl, nose, slurp, spit. Repeat 150-odd times.

If you’re an experienced taster it reveals what the standout wines are and which are the ones not worth bothering about it but it in no way replicates the way the people we’re writing for would drink those wines, sipping (or - OK - gulping) them over a period of time, usually with a meal. There’s absolutely no joy in it.

Round about the same time I also tried - and re-tried - a case of six Beaujolais which changed massively in the 48 hours I had them open. The showier ones didn’t always stay showy. The more retiring ones that had tasted a bit one-dimensional often blossomed with a particular food (I tried them with different types of charcuterie and cheeses).

The way wines reveal themselves once the bottle is open gives you an insight to the way they will age. Tasting over a period of time also evens out the particular circumstances of the moment: the conditions in the room, the state of mind you’re in - even whether you’re tasting on a fruit or root day**, The mere act of swallowing rather than spitting is a more relaxed, less aggressive process that allows you to appreciate flavours and textures in the wine that might otherwise go undetected.

In an ideal world one would always taste wines over a certain price level - say £10 - like this. Why not cheaper wines too? Because they’re less complex, WISIWYG (What you See is What you Get) wines, designed for immediate consumption. But a more expensive wine will evolve in the glass and in the bottle as air interacts with it.

Until we all became overly concerned about putting people off wine the art of tasting was referred to as wine appreciation, a more accurate description of trying to understand what a wine is all about. Maybe we should use a more on-trend description these days - mindful wine tasting - for thinking more deeply about wine. I plan to do more of it.

* the wines, if you're interested, were a Bruno Giacosa Roero Arneis, an Askos Verdeca, a Tiefenbrunner Lagrein and a Querciabella Chianti Classico, all from Armit Wines

** the term comes from the biodynamic calendar which divides the year up into four types of day - fruit and flower days (better for tasting) and leaf and root days (less good). Sounds like a lot of mumbo-jumbo but it’s surprising how often I find when I’m disappointed in a wine it turns out to be a leaf or a root day. Read more about biodynamics here.

You might also enjoy this longer post on the variables of wine tasting