The Apologist is a deliciously funny satire on the complexity and greed of international – and personal – politics, as well as a powerful paean to the diplomatic role of a well-made almond soufflé. Hopkinson allows for additions, so I add a dollop of Dijon, a little grated parmesan and parsley’: onion tart. Photograph: Jay Rayner Rayner, Jay (2 March 2003). "Tales my mother never told me". The Guardian. London . Retrieved 6 May 2010. In 1997 he won a Sony Radio Award for Papertalk, BBC Radio Five Live's magazine programme about the newspaper business, which he presented. He chairs a BBC Radio 4 programme called The Kitchen Cabinet. [9]

I love the raucous variety of restaurants available today. I still quiver with excitement at being introduced to a culinary tradition I do not know. But there is a part of me deeply betrothed to the older things, done as well as they can be done. Bouchon Racine is all of that. If you feel my prior knowledge of this restaurant invalidates my opinion, fair enough. There will be another review along next week. Meanwhile, I’ll be the happy man with the ludicrous Mont Blanc and the spoon.Rayner has also written for magazines including GQ, Esquire, Cosmopolitan, the New Statesman and Granta. His first novel, The Marble Kiss, published in 1994, was shortlisted for the Author's Club First Novel Award and his second, Day of Atonement (1998) was shortlisted for the Jewish Quarterly Prize for Fiction. [8] His first non-fiction book, Stardust Falling, was published in 2002; this was followed by his third novel The Apologist, published in the US as Eating Crow, in 2004.

Rayner hosts the Out to Lunch podcast in which he interviews a celebrity guest in each episode. [10] Personal life [ edit ] That thoroughness is a function of Roden’s reluctance to stop researching. The book was 16 years in the making and was only eventually published because of an intervention by her American editor. Judith Jones, also responsible for shepherding the likes of Anne Frank, John Updike and Julia Child to publication, had to wrest it from her hands. “I just wanted to carry on travelling the world and talking to people,” Roden says now. I wanted to carry on travelling the world and talking to peopleIn 2015, a 25th anniversary edition of White Heat was published, full of testimonials to the book’s brilliance by chefs it had influenced. One of those was the young lad from Nottingham who had only been able to afford it because he found it in a charity shop. “How mad is that?” Sat Bains says. Three decades on from its first publication there is no doubt: to a certain type of chef White Heat and Marco Pierre White still matter. A big serving of closed-cap mushrooms for a fiver are long smoked to an almost meaty intensity and dressed with dollops of boisterous salsa verde; courgettes are grilled and served with chilli, mint and lemon. There is a white coleslaw full of crunch and salt and vinegar, and “crispy” potatoes the colour of polished gold, with undulations and crevices and curled bits. They aren’t just crisp, they are crispy. Each plate is a simple idea, expressed vividly and with care so that the key ingredient gets to shout its name. Rayner was born on 14 September 1966. [4] He is the younger son of Desmond Rayner and journalist Claire Rayner. His family is Jewish. [5] He was raised in the Sudbury Hill area of Harrow, London, and attended the independent Haberdashers' Aske's Boys' School. [6] He studied politics at the University of Leeds, where he was editor of the Leeds Student newspaper, graduating in 1988. [4] Career [ edit ]

The Jewish Quarterly". The Jewish Quarterly). 16 March 2009. Archived from the original on 16 January 2013 . Retrieved 3 July 2012. But now they had their first child, a pregnancy which had encouraged in Cassie such a profoundly sweet tooth she started making fudge (stay with me; these things will all tie up eventually). Off to the West Midlands they went in search of affordable housing. Cassie set up Sweetmeat Inc, a fudge-making business on the high street in Stirchley just to the south of Birmingham city centre. James took cheffing jobs, but also cooked his Chinese food at pop-ups. I remained a reporter, investigating the tangled politics and economics of food supply chains and national health policy. One very positive thing did happen after David’s death. David was Jewish and there’s a thing called Shiva [a week-long mourning period following a death] when [family and close friends] gather for prayers. I went every night and I came to understand the importance of it. And a bunch of his friends from school came to me and said, we know who you are, we know you were a very close friend, and you’re our friend now. I’m actually getting emotional just thinking about it. It was just a beautiful, beautiful thing. And that’s exactly what they did, this beautiful, cosmopolitan lot – they immediately started phoning me and inviting me to parties. They just looked after me. And some of those boys and girls became my oldest friends. Tofu is a blank canvas for the flavours it carries’: deep-fried tofu and pepper. Photograph: Sophia Evans/The ObserverJay Rayner combines personal experience and hard-nosed reportage to explain why the doctrine of organic has been eclipsed by the need for sustainable intensification; and why the future lies in large-scale food production rather than the cottage industries that foodies often cheer for. From the cornfields of America to the killing lines of Yorkshire abattoirs via the sheep-covered hills of New Zealand, Rayner takes us on a journey that will change the way we shop, cook and eat forever. And give us a few belly laughs along the way.

Any excuse for grating up potatoes and frying them must be taken’: Jay’s version of Roden’s Latkes. Photograph: Jay Rayner Do you want a reliable recipe for a delightfully traditional pork terrine? Or a salade niçoise? Or petit salé aux lentilles? It’s here. While at Hilaire, Hopkinson had got to know the revered food writers Elizabeth David and Richard Olney, dishes from whom are also included. As a result, it acts as a golden thread, pulled through the post-second world war history of encouraging food in Britain. Henry Harris worked with Hopkinson at Hilaire and was his head chef at Bibendum (before opening his own much-loved French restaurant, Racine). “It’s simply the most important cookbook of the last 25 years of the 20th century,” Harris says. “Many people had been doing their twists on these dishes. Simon restored them to their original selves.” Bareham agrees. “Simon likes doing dishes over and over again. They may not be original to him, but he perfects them.” He was awarded the title Beard of the Year for 2011 by the Beard Liberation Front. [11] He plays piano with his jazz ensemble the Jay Rayner Quartet. [12] Books [ edit ] Fiction [ edit ] The hospitality sector has been through a hellish 18 months. The combination of Brexit and the pandemic has challenged our food supply chain like never before. The climate crisis has raised serious questions about the sustainability of our agriculture sector. Too many people do not have access to enough good-quality food. All of these very real and important issues can make being enthusiastic about our food culture seem grossly inappropriate. I think that’s a mistake.

A bright pile of coriander, julienned cucumber and spring onions’: tiger salad. Photograph: Jonathan Cherry/The Observer This article was amended on 16 January 2023 because an earlier version misnamed Julie’s restaurant as “Jules”. I am encouraged by various waiters to have their spicy wonton, which they all tell me is their speciality, and the sauce with that is a belter. Our waiter spoons a little of it over the taut-skinned dumplings, filled with a fine dice of unidentified but crunchy vegetables. It’s a deeply flavoured and inviting bowlful. I could do serious damage to a lot of those. I end up drinking the sauce. I am ashamed of my handiwork. Then again it does taste fabulous’: Saint-Emilion au chocolat. Photograph: Jay Rayner