Thursday night, I cooked dinner for a party of 25. The setting was a lodge next to the river on the outskirts of Tavira. It's a simple but beautiful place comprising of a main private house, 5 smaller cottages and a walled terrace .
The party-goers were here to celebrate the birthday of a friend and both he and most of his guests had travelled from their homes in Norway.
After a few emails back and forth we had agreed upon a menu; pâté, escabeche, a number of salads and various dishes to accompany fish... BBQ'd fish.
The party-goers were here to celebrate the birthday of a friend and both he and most of his guests had travelled from their homes in Norway.
After a few emails back and forth we had agreed upon a menu; pâté, escabeche, a number of salads and various dishes to accompany fish... BBQ'd fish.
Whilst catering in Holland my relationship with the 'Barbie' was not always a happy one. Attempting to grill too large hunks of rib-eye in virtual darkness, shielded from the rain by a dodgy 'party tent' which flapped about wildly in the wind. Whilst the guests sank mojitos in the warmth of a Herengracht townhouse.
Catering for 50 guests or more in a domestic setting is difficult enough without adding the vagaries of spitting charcoal and the dicey nature of Northern European weather. I found the whole BBQ thing - messy, unpredictable and wholly avoidable.
Of course the climate here in the Algarve is better suited to outdoor cooking, eating and just about everything really. Hairy chested, chubby cooks need only the slightest excuse to grab the tongs, pop open a bottle of Sagres beer and ignite the BBQ. Whether to prepare a handful of fresh horse-mackerel on a Sunday afternoon or to grill hundreds of kilos of sardines in order to celebrate 'Tavira day'.
Conditions, the other evening couldn't have been better. A disused bread oven provided a chimney under which the BBQ stood. I'd taken a lesson in BBQ'ing from Fransisco just a few days before, Hannah, our waitress, was both charming, calm and efficient and the guests were in holiday mood, here to relax and enjoy an evening amongst friends.
Singed arm hairs and a blister on my neck are evidence of wounds incurred in the call of duty and I am infinitely more comfortable standing over a range. However, thanks to Asmund, Elenor, Lis, Hannah and Fransisco I have made (temporary) peace with the BBQ,
Catering for 50 guests or more in a domestic setting is difficult enough without adding the vagaries of spitting charcoal and the dicey nature of Northern European weather. I found the whole BBQ thing - messy, unpredictable and wholly avoidable.
Of course the climate here in the Algarve is better suited to outdoor cooking, eating and just about everything really. Hairy chested, chubby cooks need only the slightest excuse to grab the tongs, pop open a bottle of Sagres beer and ignite the BBQ. Whether to prepare a handful of fresh horse-mackerel on a Sunday afternoon or to grill hundreds of kilos of sardines in order to celebrate 'Tavira day'.
Conditions, the other evening couldn't have been better. A disused bread oven provided a chimney under which the BBQ stood. I'd taken a lesson in BBQ'ing from Fransisco just a few days before, Hannah, our waitress, was both charming, calm and efficient and the guests were in holiday mood, here to relax and enjoy an evening amongst friends.
Singed arm hairs and a blister on my neck are evidence of wounds incurred in the call of duty and I am infinitely more comfortable standing over a range. However, thanks to Asmund, Elenor, Lis, Hannah and Fransisco I have made (temporary) peace with the BBQ,
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