Last night, my fiancé and I threw a small Independence Day party at Samizdata HQ in Chelsea. I must admit to having been rather busy yesterday, and so ended up opting for the easy way out when it came to the food. But easy does not have to mean from a packet or bound for the bin – or at least that is what I was trying to prove. If I had known for sure that two of my fellow food bloggers, Madsen and Paul, were going to be in attendance, I might have opted for a more elaborate spread. Alas, alas…
First, I borrowed the most reliable recipe in my repertoire from my friend Nancy Rommelmann, the food writer and journalist. She first made the dish I call Nancy’s pasta for me back in 2004, when she visited London for a long weekend while writing a story for Vanity Fair in Paris. Since then I have made it several times for guests, and it always goes down extremely well. In this heat, it also has the advantage of being something you can make in advance of your guests arriving; it is delicious hot, warm, or cold. So you can get a little frazzled while you stand cooking the pancetta in sauna-like conditions, but still have time to get freshened up before the doorbell starts ringing.
Along with this I served a salad of avocado, tomato, mozzarella, and green olives. I had never made this before, but another friend of mine, Adriana Lukas, makes it often and it has been a firm favourite of mine for a couple of years. You really should make this at least a few hours in advance, in order to let the flavours develop, then leave it in a cool place (a larder or wine cellar is perfect) to macerate.
I hadn’t realised, until I started cooking, that both of these dishes are heavy with tomato and basil. No matter, everyone cleaned their plates, and in many cases had seconds. But the real hit of the night, near as I can tell, was the chocolate pavlova with extra thick double cream, raspberries, and blueberries. As ever, my fiancé’s mother made the cocoa meringue bases for me (I refuse to learn how to do it, as I could never then trust myself alone in the house with egg whites and sugar). I just dumped the cream and berries on top a few minutes before serving. “Like angels on one’s tongue,” I believe was the comment from Dr Eamonn Butler. Sounds complimentary to me.
The wine that Madsen, Eamonn, and Paul drank most of was from Stormhoek, the South African winery that is mad about blogging. I have no idea what they thought of it, and was myself too busy sneaking sips of pink champagne (gorgeous) between pints of Diet Coke. (I take my role as the lowbrow American influence at these things very seriously.)
If we had remained true to the spirit of 4th of July, our gathering would have featured a full-blown barbecue with hamburgers, hot dogs, and disgusting American-style potato salad. There is something to be said for all that, but last night I preferred an easier life. Here’s hoping our guests don’t beg for that potato salad next year…