Comfort Food

Lucy’s column for December 2
Foodlo..1
Ooh, it was a gourmet delight, and one we hadn’t savoured since Adam was a lad.
We’re talking rabbit pie. And it was on the menu at my friend Pauline Phillips’s house the other night. That, along with a huge dish of lamb’s liver and onions. And I was spoilt for choice. I could have been picky and settled for some of each – one or two people did just that, so overwhelmed were they with the options – except it would have meant a smaller piece of pie. But when it comes to rabbit, I’m a bit of a pig. And rabbit is so much tastier than pork, not to mention cheaper.
Indeed, this particular rabbit was free, I understand. It fell off the back of a Landrover, somewhere in the wilds of Derbyshire, making it a well-bred English young buck, which hadn’t so much as glimpsed a supermarket shelf, let alone originated in foreign parts.
In the same week, we dined at our friends the Skivos – Julie and Rob Skivington, who are equally as lavish and imaginative with their hospitality as Pauline. And Julie isn’t behind the oven door when it comes to conjuring up dishes to make your juices run. After all, with five children, four of them strapping lads, she’s had enough practice. But on this particular night, she excelled, with bangers and mash, mushy peas, and onion gravy.
It could be just him and me, but when it comes to food, we go for comfort. Show us a bowl of caviar, and we’ll settle for the home-made tuna pate. Try the temptation of a T-bone, and I’ll be howling for egg and chips. And the one oyster I once attempted didn’t even reach the back of my throat before nausea took over, so there’s not much comfort in that embarrassing dash to the loo.
So you see, with the credit crunch, we’re well prepared on the cheap and cheerful, tasty and nourishing, gastronome front. And I write this in a week when foodies announce, with a great fanfare of trumpets, that beef suet is back on the menu. To be honest, I’d never realised it had been off, because there’s always a packet lurking in our fridge, not just for dumplings, but baked, as a pie crust, in the oven, and so much simpler to make than pastry.
During my time as women’s editor of this paper, with a regular cookery column, it was a standing joke that Lucy knew fourteen ways with a pound of mince, and it has to be said that mince still figures largely in this household’s culinary delights, emerging as rissoles, cottage pies, the more exotic lasagnes, and easy-peasy spag bols. And casseroles and stews reign supreme, bulked out with loads of vegetables to keep the five-a-day police off our backs. These concoctions are switched on at bed-time, and next morning, what better to waken up to than the heavenly smell of that night’s dinner.
You see, I couldn’t exist without a slow cooker, which is in action at least once a week. On a tour of Derbyshire recently, we happened upon the famous Maycock’s butchers in Holloway. It was where Julie bought the aforementioned sausages, in so many flavours and varieties that she couldn’t choose – so ended up with two of each. And it was there I espied a whole ox tail, just begging to be bought. That, alongside a couple of pounds of shin beef and kidney, has made three huge meat pies, and two bowls of stew.
There should be somebody out there passing on this old-fashioned, economical fare to today’s youngsters who aim for little more than a burger in a bun. Even I’m still learning. It’s over to Pauline, because I haven’t cooked a rabbit for 40 years.
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