The Aga man came round on Thursday. I suddenly felt slightly ashamed that I hadn’t been religiously polishing it.
He’s serviced the Aga’s of Jamie Oliver, who has three, and Phil Vickery from Ready Steady Cook, who is Fern Britten’s husband. The Aga man says that most women bake cakes for him the day before he comes to service their Aga. (You have to turn the Aga off 24 hours before a service)(1). He’s expecting scones on the next visit. Bloody hell, I’d better get practising then. Never baked a scone in my life, mainly because I don’t like them.
I’ve decided to splash out on a few cookery books, for instance, The Aga bible by Amy Wilcox (which I’ve just received from Amazon and it appears to be an ex-library book!). Most of the Aga cookbooks are written by Mary Berry but I find them rather old fashioned.
I’ve also ordered How to be a domestic goddess by Nigella Lawson and The Moro Cookbook. What really annoys me though is the meat pages. Such a waste of book. And off-putting. With yucky dead cooked flesh photos. I’m going to hack them all out.
Now I like Nigella’s writing. I know she is privileged and has become a bit of a parody but you can actually follow her recipe’s. You can tell she’s a home cook. A cook not a chef.
I have practically no cook books nor do I have any decent knives. I’m also a crap baker. Bakers and patisserie chefs have a different mind set from normal chefs. Precision is important in their trade.
This winter I’m going to practise baking and work up my Morroccan dishes. Sounds like a riot doesn’t it?