Bitch on the Blog

August 24, 2016

Food heaven

Despite what most bloggers wish to believe – none of you are saints, and even saints may have a mean streak.

My mean streak? It is a shocker if ever there was one. And I am not proud of it.

Before you hyperventilate in anticipation of my confession – do sit down at my table and enjoy (food cooked by me). And you will [enjoy]. What you don’t do, because thus disappointment lies, ask me for THE RECIPE. I know people think it’s the ultimate compliment. It isn’t. Trust me. It’s a gross intrusion into, nay violation of, my treasure trove. I will NOT give you the recipe. Come back again for more of the same – but don’t ask me for the recipe.

The above notion problematic in reverse – as I learnt as a young bride having landed on these culinary shores ca. mid 1980s. You enthuse over someone’s food; the host(ess), oh so polite and sweet mannered, will beam at you: “Would you like the recipe?” No, actually, I don’t. Naturally, I didn’t, and still don’t, say that. It’d be plain rude if I did. Instead of which you (that’s me) walk away feeling ashamed knowing full well that I myself would never offer full disclosure of my biggest successes. Though – mitigating circumstances – will give veiled hints how NOT to do it.

If none of you ever speak to me again – that’s my loss.

Hugs and hisses,




  1. I promise not to ask you provided you promise to keep feeding me whenever I come around.

    Comment by rummuser — August 24, 2016 @ 16:43 | Reply

    • I’ll keep you in fine fettle, Ramana. Don’t you worry.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 24, 2016 @ 19:33 | Reply

  2. I promise not to ask. I don’t use recipes.

    Comment by cheerfulmonk — August 24, 2016 @ 18:40 | Reply

    • Notice I refrained from using a smiley face. It was hard.

      Comment by cheerfulmonk — August 24, 2016 @ 18:41 | Reply

    • Funny you should say that, Jean. The older I get the fewer recipes I use. I suppose it’s all anchored up there (brain) or down here (practice, feeling and intuition). Mind you, I still love flicking through all those books, reconnecting with my initial “mentors”.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 24, 2016 @ 19:37 | Reply

  3. There is only one recipe which I refuse to share and my daughters are under strict instructions to do the same. It is for the best blueberry tart anyone has ever eaten.

    Comment by snmaeder — August 24, 2016 @ 20:39 | Reply

    • When can I come round? I love blueberries, even on a tart, and will respect the privacy of your recipe.

      Mind you, and it makes me smile, you DID share your pride and joy, didn’t you? With your daughters. I love how kitchen “secrets” are passed down the generations. Can’t say my mother was very good at that. From an early age I was her kitchen hand. Peeling potatoes, laying the table, that sort of thing. Other than that she surrounded herself with mystique, not least when it came to making sauces. My father called her the “queen of sauces”. Oddly, and correctly, that is what she called her own mother, my beloved grandmother. I remember thinking, and I am not the resigning type, that I’ll never be the queen of sauces. Instead of which I became a goddess. No one can accuse me of being modest. Only joking. I will always stand aside to make way for my sister. If you don’t concede her supremacy in all things, the “sauce” will go wrong and it’ll all be YOUR fault.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 25, 2016 @ 06:25 | Reply

  4. I don’t use recipes, I use Marks and Spencer’s.
    (apologies, couldn’t resist)

    Comment by Scarlet — August 24, 2016 @ 22:33 | Reply

    • Between reading your comment last night and pondering on M&S, I was sent into reverie remembering one of the most bizarre (and enchanting) encounters of my life – courtesy of M&S food hall.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 25, 2016 @ 06:27 | Reply

  5. I would think that asking for the recipe would be taken as an insult by the cook. Isn’t there an element of skill in this? And then there is the aspect of knowing the guests and the what/when/how to prepare the food that is just right for them, even though they don’t correctly comprehend their culinary needs, nor can they articulate what it is that they are hoping to consume.

    Comment by Looney — August 25, 2016 @ 03:04 | Reply

    • That’s a different take, Looney. “Insult”? Nah. Even the most gifted need a skeleton to hang their coat on.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 25, 2016 @ 06:29 | Reply

  6. I don’t make anything that’s so special as to be a secret so I would give out recipes if asked but there wo uld be little point because I follow them so haphazardly that a recipe is little more than a guideline.
    And unless your special recipe can be made in two steps I probably wont make it so I’ll just have to get you to make it again. And again. And again

    Comment by kylie — August 26, 2016 @ 12:31 | Reply

    • I wouldn’t call what I cook “special”. The days I tried to emulate restaurant cooking are long over. It was a mid Eighties’ mug’s game. Albeit it taught me tons. Now? Now – I just cook. Mainly with “love”. Sounds cheesy? It isn’t. Trust me. Never cook when either upset or in a bad mood. It’ll show. More of chemistry another time.

      Other than that, Kylie: Be my guest. And most welcome.

      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 26, 2016 @ 13:53 | Reply

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