Rosé de Provence: a glamorous taste of summer

I've been waiting too long to write this piece. After an endlessly cold, damp, dreary spring, we are now basking in bright sunshine and temperatures in the high 20s. Back in April, on a cool evening, I braved it through heavy rain to the Bistro du Vin in Soho to taste some Provence rosé. These offer a chic and refreshing contrast to the deep coloured, powerfully flavoured rosés that dominate supermarket shelves. I've always been drawn to delicately hued, restrained Provence rosé, while visualising lavender fields, olive groves and yachts bobbing up and down on glinting water (without a noisy jet-ski in sight). There aren't many wines more perfectly suited to summer.

At the Bistro du Vin we heard about the work of the Provence-based Rosé Research Centre (apparently the only organisation in the world dedicated to this style of wine). The emphasis is on careful, controlled winemaking to produce such pale, clean, fresh wines and to preserve the fresh acidity. Three wines were presented that reflected this approach (and all of which I really liked):

Côtes de Provence Tradition 2011 from Domaine Sainte Marie (Baume les Mimosas, near Saint Tropez): a blend of Cinsault, Grenache, Syrah, Carignan, Cabernet and Mourvèdre. Creamy strawberry fruit, aromatic and fragrant, with a whiff of minerality. Refreshing and stylish. (8 Euros ex cellars. Not available in the UK.)

Coteaux d'Aix-en-Provence, Cuvée Aix Rosé 2011 from Domaine de la Grande Séouve. This Grenache dominated blend (Grenache 60%, Cinsault 20%, Syrah/Counoise 20%) has a tasty savoury complexity and aromatic fragrant fruit – a great food wine. (Majestic Wine £12; also available in magnums.)

Coteaux Varois en Provence, Perle de Margüi Rosé 2011 from Château Margüi. A Cinsault/Grenache blend, very pale (from 90 minutes' skin contact), dry, crisp, aromatic, with a particularly fragrant finish. Subtle and chic. (11.50 Euros ex cellars. Not available in the UK.)

We enjoyed these three wines with canapés and more Provence rosés were served with dinner. Although rosé is a versatile option, I selected lighter dishes at dinner for these subtle wines: firstly Cornish crab with toasted sourdough (although there was a lot of dark meat, so quite an intense flavour to take on), followed by fillet of bream, crab potato (an inspired idea) and parsley velouté.

Crab struck me as an ideal match for Provence rosé and some shone: Château du Galoupet Côtes de Provence Cru Classé 2010 (£13.08 for 50cl from London Wine Shippers) and Domaine Ott, Clos Mireille Coeur de Grain 2010 (£27.95 from Roberson Wine). I've always regarded Ott as a bit blingy, but here it was very dry and deliciously savoury. It tasted serious, as it should for the price. With the cheese, Vignelaure rosé (£11.95 Wine Society) did a good job, especially with the creamy, slightly tangy cabécou. Perhaps demonstrating rosé's versatility, further along the table, it was enjoyed with steak. With dessert we had another smart dry rosé Côtes de Provence (Château d'Esclans 2011 from Sacha Lichine £21.50 Bibendum Wine). This was not flattered by the redberry sorbets, shortbread and cream which made it taste bitter. For me, the fish and seafood and canapés were the best matches.

I attended the event as a guest of Provence Wines.

Top pic: courtesy of Provence Rosé/Hachette.

When cooking goes wrong

Cooking can be a hit and miss affair. Over the years I've got much better at following recipes, particularly to expand my repertoire and to get a better technical understanding. But you still need to keep pushing boundaries and take the odd risk.

Not long ago I had a misguided experiment with some duck. I roasted the bird and then deglazed the pan with a generous slug of Campari, stirring in redcurrant jelly. To say this didn't work is quite an understatement. My husband who is not the greatest fan of Campari anyway (I love it!) observed all this, grimacing. I thought the aromatic bitterness would make a perfect foil to cut through the rich duck fat. But no, it just tasted bitter. Horribly bitter. And the bitterness seemed to intensify. So much so that I had to replate my food. Sensibly, my husband already had already done this by that point. I even recall blotting my duck with some kitchen roll to remove all traces of the sauce. (Bizarrely, it had tasted fairly balanced and interesting when I sampled it from the pan.)

The subject of when cooking goes wrong was suggested to me by my friend Ginny who lives in Greece who sent in the picture of the burnt loaf. She's a keen cook, very ambitious and (obviously) couldn't wait to try out a wood-fired oven that came as part of her family's new built-in barbecue. It looks like a lovingly prepared loaf and it's almost heartbreaking seeing it like this. However, she tells me that after much hilarity, her sons removed the charred crust and 'scoffed' the rest of the loaf. The flavour must have been fabulous. Not surprisingly, they are now on the look out for a decent oven thermometer – and still keep laughing about it!

Do please let me know if you've had similar experiences. We can learn from each others' mistakes...

Brunswick House Café: a gem in Vauxhall

There is something unlikely about the Brunswick House Café in Vauxhall. Even on a cheerful, sunny day Vauxhall can seem a bit dreary (until you snatch a glimpse of the river). It's certainly not at its best in pouring rain, so on a cool, wet, grey late April day I came upon the unexpectedly cheerful delights of the Brunswick House Café. I was there for lunch with a rather special friend who worked nearby and who is moving to France with her family. She works for a notable wine company and she told me that, as well as being a customer, the Brunswick House Café had practically become a work canteen. (My only grouch with the place – and I'll flag this up now – is having some very decent wine served in a tumbler. It always strikes me as an affectation, so I wonder if her colleagues take their own glasses. Call me a purist, but I do prefer a stem on my glass!)

Brunswick House is home to LASSCO, the architectural salvage company, so, basically, the café is located within an extraordinary warehouse and the display starts before you walk in. You pass through a bar which looks ideal for early evening drinks or just a morning coffee and end up in a room full of interesting period furnishings.

Simply prepared seasonal food is order of the day prepared by chef, Jackson Boxer (grandson of food writer Arabella Boxer), so there were some early spring treats on the menu. My friend ordered a main course, porcini, artichoke and nettle risotto and I ordered two starters. My fennel and celeriac soup with wild garlic and buttered almonds was decadently creamy, garlicky, but not overwhelming so, and with a nice little crunch from the almonds. It was garnished with some garlic flowers and looked like spring in a bowl. Served with plenty of tasty sourdough bread and butter, it would have been ideal for lunch on its own. However, I was keen to try more from this tempting menu.

My second dish was smoked cod's roe, radishes, soft boiled egg and toast. I have a bit of a weakness for egg yolk, so could not resist the sound of this. And it was gorgeous. Again, another perfectly judged lunch dish – rich, unctuous, yet offset by the firm, tangy radishes. It was served with more of their delicious sourdough, this time toasted. My friend wasn't drinking, but I sipped some Semillon from Provence which worked well with both dishes - freshly and gently aromatic, with enough weight to tackle that egg yolk.

If I'd had longer, I'd also have gone for the white sprouting broccoli with romesco and anchovies. I've recently made romesco sauce, so was tempted to try their more expert version. These starter-size dishes cost about £5 and mains are from about £7. Great value for money. My glass of wine was £2.70 (£16 per bottle) from an excellent short list, with plenty of options under £30. Europe dominates and, if you are celebrating you could treat yourself to a bottle of Jacquesson Cuvée 734 for £55 (Champagne really doesn't get much better than this). Alternatively, they offer a Prosecco for just £21.20 which would be a versatile choice for spring. I do hope they have proper flutes for these. There are also some interesting beers and a Breton cider.

I'd love to go back for dinner. I imagine it's probably quite romantic in the evening, that's if you like vintage bits and pieces and the mellow tones of old wood. If not, there are always meatballs and lingenberry sauce at Ikea.

Brunswick House Café
30 Wandsworth Road
London SW8 2LG
Tel 020 7720 2926
http://www.brunswickhousecafe.com/

Passport control: an unexpected 'staycation'

I don't like the word 'staycation', but this is what we ended up having over the Easter weekend. We had planned a blissful sounding little break in Normandy in a cottage just inland from Dieppe. We'd been very busy, so needed a change of scene and a breath of fresh air. Anyway, this wasn't to be. Just as we were getting organised late on Thursday afternoon, in preparation for our 7.30 ferry on Good Friday morning, we realised our 5-year-old daughter's passport had expired a fortnight earlier.

So, after a lot of disappointment (tears, I'm afraid) and several deep breaths, I hit the Alastair Sawday website with a vengeance, determined to find a hotel vacancy near the coast a couple of hours or so from London. Consequently, our Easter ended up having a much more British flavour, driving down to the Kent coast and making the most of the Good Friday sunshine in Broadstairs and Ramsgate, before checking into the Bell Hotel in Sandwich for a tasty dinner and relaxing overnight stay.

After a hearty breakfast on Easter Saturday we strolled around historic Sandwich and picked up a few local goodies in the Sandwich Sausage Shop (a very good butchers – despite the name which our daughter found hilarious, along with the Sandwich Library and Sandwich Chocolate Shop). We then headed to Deal for a windswept walk along the front and an epic fish and chip lunch. As the weather was now so much more wintery, we were happy to be heading back to London.

The latter half of the weekend was spent with my parents in Hertfordshire and included visiting Lionel Rothschild's extraordinary collection of stuffed animals in Tring, part of the Natural History Museum (and with free entry). Tring is an attractive country town with bags of character on the edge of the Chilterns. There are some lovely walks and sights nearby, including the Ridgeway Path and Ivinghoe Beacon.

This unexpected 'staycation' had a few memorable benefits: we really enjoyed our time in Kent and were particularly taken by Broadstairs – where Dickens spent his holidays – and Ramsgate with its enormous marina and elegant Regency architecture. We'll definitely be returning soon to visit the new Turner Contemporary in Margate. The area's perfect for easy day trips from London on the train.

What's more our Sandwich souvenirs: delicious brown shrimps, salt marsh lamb and bottle of Pinot Blanc from Stopham Estate (as they say on the label: 'Made with precision and passion in Sussex') partially helped make up for the bootful of wine, Bonne Maman jam and other French treats we'd set or sights on. Parents of young children, please be warned: those first passports run out quickly and you don't want to miss the boat as well.

Koffmann's: a great value lunch in Knightsbridge

At few weeks ago a group of us had lunch at Koffman's in the Berkeley Hotel for my brother's birthday. We'd tried to book at table at Le Gavroche, a particular family favourite, but that hadn't been possible, so we considered some other places. Various Michelin-starred options were discussed and we settled on this latest venture from Pierre Koffmann. Over the years I have had the pleasure of experiencing his inspired cooking – at Tante Claire on Royal Hospital Road (Gordon Ramsey took over this sight for his eponymous restaurant) and at the Berkeley Hotel, when his restaurant relocated there (and experienced his delicious pied de cochon). Koffmann's contemporary interpretation of classic French bistro fare has always been right up my street and, back at the Berkeley, he's paired things down a bit, but still delivers the goods. On the website, they proclaim "This is informal dining for serious foodies." They're right, although it's pretty luxurious, too.

We were there for my brother's birthday and our party of eight all settled for the set lunch, a Gascon white from the sensibly priced Biarritz à Perpignan section of the wine list and a Loire red. A generous, tempting bowl of bread was brought to the table (see picture) which included a rather naughty sort of savoury croissant - buttery and herby. We sat down for a late lunch at 2pm, so the bread was very welcome (and dominated the table, tempting us). A small amuse of creamy, velvety celeriac soup set the tone and our starters soon followed. My poached egg with purple sprouting broccoli and hollandaise was just the sort of decadent starter I've got a weakness for: a perfectly cooked egg yolk oozing into the hollandaise with a few little croutons for some crunchy texture. The terrine and onion soup also looked good (but I think mine had the edge!)

My main course was chicken stuffed with spinach and mushroom, served with some seasonal vegetables and a slick of creamy potato purée. The other mains of duck, cod and pork all went down well (the duck breast: sliced and fanned out and served with a red wine sauce was another hit).

There were some big appetites around the table, so we had side dishes of cauliflower and rather tasty frites, although the food was already quite satisfying. The desserts were a little less interesting - roasted pineapple, baked cheesecake and ice creams - but rounded off our lunch nicely, and my brother's chocolate brownie came on a charmingly decorated plate with a candle. There's a lot of top-end choice in Knightsbridge (Heston's Dinner, Marcus Wareing, Bar Boulud) and Pierre Koffmann, although no longer looking for Michelin stars, is still a very smooth operator. What's more, the three-course set lunch for £25.50 is a bargain. Highly recommended.

Calçots and romesco sauce: perfect for the barbecue

Recently we had a spell of barbecue weather, so, of course, we made the most of it. I'd been lucky and had come by some calçots from the father of one of my daughter's school friends who's a fruit and vegetable wholesaler in Druid Street, Bermondsey (one of several who used to be based in Borough Market). He likes pickles, so I gave him some of my spiced apple chutney as a little 'thank you'. (I also had some wild mushrooms from him last autumn. Generous man.)

Calçots are like a cross between spring onions and leeks and are a Catalan speciality. I first encountered them on a visit to Torres (who are based near Barcelona) whose public relations I used to handle. Calçots have a short season late winter/early spring and the Catalans get very enthusiastic about them, grilling them over charcoal until the outer leaves are almost black and serving them with peppery, nutty romesco sauce. It's a messy, but delicious process, peeling off the burnt bits and dunking the hot, juicy calçots into the sauce. Well worth getting enthusiastic about.

Initially I was expecting to keep things simple and buy some romesco, but Spanish specialists Brindisa didn't stock it, but were able to sell me some piquillo peppers and fabulous blanched marcona almonds. I slightly adapted the Moro recipe which was pretty straightforward (I didn't have quite the right combination of peppers, but I don't think it matters that much as you make it as hot or mild as you like). The big surprise, though, was how well it also went with the chicken we were barbecuing as well. It just seemed brilliantly suited to grilled food.

Note: the romesco started off as a full-on garlicky Mediterranean mouthful, but mellowed and was quite mild when we finished it off a week later. Either way, our five-year-old also really enjoyed it. Once the weather improves, we'll definitely be making more.

Wine
The romesco was great with both white and red wine: Torres' crisp, refreshing and incredibly versatile Viña Sol (particularly good with the calçots) and a big, spicy Jumilla. (We played safe and stayed with Spain on both occasions, although southern French wines, especially from just across the border in Roussillon, would also work well.)

Romeso sauce
Serves 4
100g whole blanched almonds
50g shelled hazelnuts
*4 small dried red chillis (see below)
3 garlic cloves, peeled
6 tablespoons olive oil (more might be necessary)
50g stale white bread, cut into 1.5cm cubes
100g piquillo peppers or 1 large red bell pepper, roasted peeled and seeded
1-1.5 tablespoons red wine or sherry vinegar (or mixture of the two)
1 teaspoon tomato purée
40 strands saffron, infused in 8 tablespoons boiling water
half teaspoon sweet smoked Spanish paprika (or more to taste)
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

* The original recipe suggests 4 dried ñoras peppers (small and round) and half a dried guindilla pepper (spiky in shape and like a large red chilli). Sweet and/or hot paprika can be used instead, although the result will obviously be a bit different.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/Gas Mark 4. Place the nuts on a tray and dry roast in the oven until light golden brown. This will take 10 minutes or so. Remove and cool. Rub the skins off the hazelnuts.

Meanwhile break open the dried peppers and remove the seeds; crumble peppers a little further. Place in a small bowl and cover with boiling water.

Fry two of the garlic cloves whole in the olive oil until coloured. Remove them with a slotted spoon and reserve. Use this oil to fry the cubes of bread until light brown. Keep the oil for later.

You can use a pestle and mortar to make the sauce (the traditional method), but a food processor is the easier option. Start by pounding/processing the bread, nuts, garlic and peppers (soaked and roasted). Keep the pepper water handy for later.

Tip this mixture (by now a course paste) into a large mixing bowl and stir in the olive oil, half the pepper water, vinegar, the remaining garlic clove (crushed), tomato purée, saffron and paprika. Check seasoning. If the sauce still looks too dry and thick add more oil and/or water. The sauce should have the consistency of a sloppy hummous.

Serve generously. (And, as mentioned earlier, the fierce flavours will mellow after a day or so.)