A vegetable that is the star of the show

Borough Market, tucked away behind London Bridge, is a world-famous food market but I still find it a fascinating and appetite-inducing place, despite the hordes of people who make their way there.

The wide selection of produce available at Borough Market

We went in May, smack bang in the middle of asparagus season. The selection of UK asparagus was wonderful and immediately made me want to take a handful of the thick green stalks and dunk them into boiling water.

Succulent asparagus spears at Borough Market

These days asparagus is available all year round, but to eat English asparagus, in season, is to get as close to veggie heaven as possible. The succulence, the texture, the wonderful colour and the taste - all add up to a vegetable that does not need to be a side show to the main act.






My favourite way of eating asparagus at this time of year is to steam it, to sprinkle a little sea salt on it and then dip it into butter - no sauce, no fancy cooking methods - the food really does do the talking.

Out of season, asparagus is a great friend to peas and parmesan cheese in a risotto and of course it goes well with hollandaise sauce, or with poached egg. I put asparagus into pasta dishes and also use it with garlic and butter as a tapas dish.


It does well in tartlets and is a healthy and tasty soup ingredient, but when it is May and the stalks are freshly plucked from the soil, then there is only one way to eat asparagus - the simple way.

A day at the races

This weekend we went to Kingston Blunt, near Prince's Riseborough in Berkshire, for the annual point-to-point. For someone used to the glitz and glamour of race courses such as Newmarket, Epsom or Ascot, this was a real eye-opener; it was as far from these champagne fuelled, high-spending race-tracks as was possible.

The commentator, announcer and land-owner, as well as the father of the lead jockey, was one and the same. He also spent his time between races ensuring that the hog roast was turning nicely and that the fences were repaired between events.

The tipsters and betting agents were all mates and seemed to spend most of the time trying to craftily stitch each other up by sending false gossip up and down the line of betting stations.

There were a real assortment of characters, and a doggie soap opera

A team of three women, all sporting t-shirts with the logo 'moody mare' on the front, made copious cups of tea and sold home made cakes by the box-full.

And the race-goers themselves were a real assortment. Dubarry boots, tweed jackets, pashminas and trilby hats gathered around the tail-gates of their 4x4 vehicles as they enjoyed picnics and glasses of bubbly. Local lads and lasses pushed their way from parade ring to bookies, clutching their handfuls of cash for bets that were going to either make their fortunes through the success of a rank outsider or leave them penniless until the next payday.

And the races were no picnic. Each race was two circuits of a track that began on the flat but soon turned into a long and exhausting climb up the foothills of the Chilterns. The jumps weren't Becher's Brook, but then the horses were exactly Kauto Star or Denman. In fact some looked as if they were more used to trotting round the lanes of Berkshire.

Not quite Kauto Star, but thrills and spills all the same

But, it didn't matter what standard the horses were. The races were entertaining, with many close finishes. There were spillages as the jockeys were thrown from horses that didn't approach the jump right, there were dangers as the loose horses veered precariously in front of the other racers, and there was intrigue, as the odds-on favourite was withdrawn at the start of the race - meaning the bookies avoided a big pay-out.

It helped that the weather was great. It was perfect that dogs were allowed, so there was the added side-show entertainment of a doggie soap opera as canine frolicking turned fruity. (And the woman with the small, hairless dog in a handbag designed especially for dogs brought a touch of Hollywood to the Chiltern landscape).

It was a fun day out. There was no point in spending large amounts of money on the horses as the odds were so low, but I did learn that the thrill of winning, no matter what the amount, is the thing that brings the frisson to racing.

Besides the horse races, there was a hound race, where 30 hounds raced/sniffed their way round the track; and a pony race in which the youngsters raced their ponies around the track, looking less Thelwell than we expected.

There was an 'Archer-esque' feel to the whole experience, and a reminder of the huge gap that still exists between rural and town life in this country.