Road trip

We drove back home from Mum and Dad's on Sunday.  They live in South-West France, so it's one heck of a drive.  The part through France takes eleven hours, and when the ferry and the drive up through Kent and into East London are included, the whole journey takes around sixteen hours.  

I've always rather enjoyed long road-trips.  I did a few when I was at University and studying in America for a year, although I still have the classics on my to-do list: Route 66 from Chicago to LA, and the full East to West Coast trip, New York City to San Francisco.  When I was living in Australia, in my early 20s, I drove from Brisbane up to Cairns which is still my longest road trip (nearly 24 hours in driving time, although we spread it over three days).  In 2010 the children and I took a road trip from France to Switzerland, and then back along the German border to northern France and home.  That remains the longest trip I have done without someone else to share the driving.

We're used to the long drive down the length of France.  It starts with rolling off the ferry very early in the morning, and then we drive down the Calais peninsula, admiring all the wind turbines along what the French call the 'Autoroute des Anglais', because every other car (at least) is English.

 

All along our journey, the main role of whoever is navigating is to avoid Paris AT ALL COSTS.  I am well used to the mad, fast, often intolerant driving that goes on in a capital city, and I actually used to drive around Paris a fair bit when I was younger and working there, but I wouldn't want to do it now.  Paris traffic is either at a complete standstill, or moving eye-wateringly fast, and you need to be unhesitating and precise in your navigational skills at all times.

Much of our drive through France is on the autoroutes.  French autoroutes are owned by private companies, and most charge tolls to drivers.  However, the tolls are pretty modest - our eleven hour drive costs around £30.  I'm more than happy to pay because the autoroutes are such a pleasure to drive on - quiet, incredibly smooth and well-maintained, and well supplied with 'aires' (service stations).  Some of the aires sell petrol, food, magazines and are parked up with hundreds of trucks and cars, but others are just a selection of picnic tables and parking spots in a little forested glade, set back from the motorway.  On our way down we found a particularly nice one somwehere south of Orleans, where Olivia did some sunbathing and Graham did some yoga stretches (our journey down was the day after his marathon, so sitting in the car for 16 hours was tougher than it would otherwise have been for him).

We have flasks of coffee and bottles of water for drinking on the go, and a plentiful supply of chewing gum (neither Graham or I like long drives without chewing gum - is this strange compulsion just us?).  The children are plugged into their iPods, and spend the whole time reading.  Whoever is driving gets to choose the music for the front, and the passenger is not allowed to argue with the driver's choice.  Graham and I take it in turns to drive/choose music for about two hours each. 

The temperatures rise steadily as we get further south, and finally we turn off the autoroute and drive down small, rural roads for the final forty minutes or so to Mum and Dad's house.  We all know these roads so well, and Graham and the children and I all look out for the landmarks that tell us we are so very nearly there.  Coming back home, there is always a strange moment of disconnect when you get off the ferry at Dover, and England now feels like a strange and foreign land - so used are we to French voices, driving on the right and the sight and smells of the French landscape.

And then it's done.  The car engine is turned off, we all get out, have a stretch and start unloading bags.  If we are arriving at Mum and Dad's there are excited hugs, delicious wine and a hot meal before bed.  If we are arriving back in London there is the excitement of seeing the hens again, the comforting familiarity of being back home, and a mental calculation of how many more months it will be before we can get back in the car and do it all over again.

    

Iced tea

In honour of my American friends, on their Independence Day weekend, I've been making iced tea.  Graham and I drank gallons of the stuff during our year of studying there. The sugary brew that Liptons sell is nice enough when properly chilled, but a homemade version is in a whole other league.

Here is my recipe - adapted from an American one in this favourite cookbook - but metricised and using about an eighth of the sugar.

The List Writers Iced Tea

In a large jug with at least a 2 litre capacity, put two teabags and two dessert spoons of caster sugar.  Pour over boiling water, up to the 1 litre mark.  Stir well and leave to steep for ten minutes.

Top up with cold water, up to the 2 litre mark, and stir again.  Remove the teabags, and add slices of fresh fruit.  If I have peaches or nectarines, that is my favourite, but this weekend I've been using thick slices of orange with great success. Mango, rasperries or apple would also work well.

Chill in the fridge for at least 4 hours and then serve in a tall glass, over ice.  The fruit delicately flavours the drink without removing any of the lovely tea taste.

There's more to American food than corn dogs

It all started with corn dogs. C had been reading the Wimpy Kid books and wanted to know what corn dogs were. I described them and told him that they used to serve them sometimes at the cafeteria at the college I went to in America. He thought they sounded like his kind of food.

He went to look through my American cookbooks, and was very disappointed to find out that not one of them had a recipe for corn dogs. Not even the fabulous White Trash Cooking. Undeterred, he went onto Google and found me a wide selection of recipes for corn dogs. But all involved deep frying and ingredients hard to source in the East End of London.

"I SO want to go to America," he said plaintively. "I would LOVE American junk food."

No doubt he would.

"But there is so much more to American food than junk food!" I exclaimed.
He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah - I know. You tell us that ALL the time."

A small exaggeration.

But it made me think I should cook more American recipes. The year I spent at college there, and the business trips I took there, all have so many good food memories for me. And I know I bang on about it to the children all the time, but there is so much more to great American cooking than hamburgers - very good though they are. I've loved watching the new series of Jamie Oliver's cullinary adventures. The episode where he travelled through the southern states brought back so many good memories - recipes for buttermilk biscuits, collard greens, proper barbequed pork and grits all had me shouting excitedly at the tele. I remember those!

So Friday night's supper became an American supper.

• Maple roast chicken from Nigella Express
• Corn on the cob
• Home fries
• Freshly baked buttermilk biscuits to mop up all the good maple syrup gravy from the chicken.

Buttermilk biscuits are a plain, savoury scone, made with buttermilk, and served as an accompaniment to savoury dishes. They are the perfect match to a plateful of gravy! The recipe I use is from Sheila Lukin's USA Cookbook.

Sheila Lukin's Buttermilk Biscuits

• 2 cups plain flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons vegetable shortening (I use Trex)
• 2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter
• 1 cup buttermilk (I usually use half a cup of plain yogurt mixed with half a cup of milk)

Sift the flour, baking powder and salt into a bowl. Cut the butter and shortening into small pieces and add to the bowl. Rub the fat into the flour with your fingers until the mixture looks like breadcrumbs. Pour in the buttermilk and toss the ingredients together with your fingers until they can be gathered up into a ball.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured board and knead very briefly (not more than 12 strokes). Pat the dough out to about 2cm thick. Using a sharp, round biscuit cutter cut out rounds, gathering up the scraps and re-patting out as necessary. You should get between 8 and 12 biscuits, depending on the size of your cutter. Put on a baking sheet and bake at Gas 7 for 10 to 12 minutes. Serve hot, split open and slathered with good butter or dunked in some gravy.

And for some more inspiration, these are the American cookbooks I own. I recommend them all.

• From Anna's Kitchen (Plain and Fancy Vegetarian Menus) by Anna Thomas
• White Trash Cooking by Ernest Matthew Mickler
• Around the American Table by Michael Krondl
• Jim Fobel's Old Fashioned Baking Book
• Sheila Lukin's USA Cookbook
• Jamie's America
• Many of Nigella Lawson's books have some good American recipes in them.

We also love to eat blueberry pancakes, sloppy joe, burritos and homemade burgers. What American dishes or cookbooks do you enjoy? I'd love to get some more ideas. But maybe not corn dogs.