I grew up in America in the 1960’s and 70’s, on the Southern California coast, when interesting changes were taking place in the eating habits of Americans.
I remember being terribly excited by the Moon Landing, and the subsequent production of “Pillsbury Space Food Sticks”: brown, stick-shaped nutrition-packed things, wrapped in foil, supposedly emulating the energy-efficient and exotic diet of our Men in Space. I remember lunchbox staples such as Dole mini fruit cocktails and chocolate puddings, with flip-top lids, whose metal pots weighed down your lunchbox, but blissfully masked the taste of slightly warm, tinned, tuna mayonnaise sandwiches on white bread, which were the healthy bits.
Like many of my classmates in High School, I worked in the tourism sector, chopping onions and making French Fries at Jack-in-the-Box drive through restaurant, and McDonalds. I was working in McDonalds when the first McNuggets appeared, and we were required to suggestive-sell this new product to each customer with the following phrase:
“Good afternoon. Welcome to McDonalds. Would you like to try our new Chicken McNuggets today?”
A man in a large chicken costume stood in front of the till and gave away free samples (he didn’t have to say anything). Often, customers were stood standing in front of me, struggling to remember a precariously large order from memory; the suggestive-selling sentence usually brought them to their knees, and the order was forgotten.
When I was little, in our back garden, we had a big swimming pool, avocado and lemon trees, and a large pomegranate shrub in the front driveway. I didn’t appreciate back then, what a rare and beautiful thing this was. (I used to toss the lemons up in the air, at dusk, to attract bats, or throw them across the lawn for my Scottish terriers to catch. They both had little bleached beards below their mouths, stained by the juice of a thousand lemons). I’d love to grow these plants in my Wiltshire garden today, but I don’t think they’d survive a British winter. I didn’t learn how to cut open a pomegranate until about a month ago; I certainly never ate them as a child. But today, I can celebrate the arrival of the first forced rhubarb from Yorkshire, relish the freshest new Jersey Royals, and tender asparagus from the Wye Valley.
Mexican Cuisine, and Tex-Mex fusions, soon became popular in Southern California. Scandinavian influences became popular in the Pacific Northwest. America, on the whole, is such an enormous melting pot of cultures and inspirations, that pretty much anything you see on a plate in a Californian restaurant can have its roots in an immigrant diet from another country.
From Space Food Sticks to Cobb Salads: what a journey! What incredible progress in one lifetime. I’m fond of saying that California Cuisine tastes like a holiday, and to me, it does. It takes like sunlight and fresh air and healthy living, and I intend to spread this around, wherever I go.
1 x bag large marshmallows
2 x 500g bars Hershey milk chocolate cooking squares, or equivalent
1 x wire coat hanger, unpainted, unbent to create one long toasting fork with a hook on the end
1 x campfire, mellowed to embers
METHOD:
When the marshmallow is cooked to your preference, make a sandwich using two Graham cracker slices for the bread, insert four chocolate squares inside, and slide the gooey toasted marshmallow into the middle. Eat carefully: the marshmallow will be hot and sticky. When you want another one, ask for “S’More”!
I remember being terribly excited by the Moon Landing, and the subsequent production of “Pillsbury Space Food Sticks”: brown, stick-shaped nutrition-packed things, wrapped in foil, supposedly emulating the energy-efficient and exotic diet of our Men in Space. I remember lunchbox staples such as Dole mini fruit cocktails and chocolate puddings, with flip-top lids, whose metal pots weighed down your lunchbox, but blissfully masked the taste of slightly warm, tinned, tuna mayonnaise sandwiches on white bread, which were the healthy bits.
"Hungry Man"
T.V. dinners were all the rage. I had a favourite, chicken-based ”Hungry Man” t.v. dinner every time my parents went to the Light Opera and booked a baby sitter. It had a chocolate brownie in the dessert compartment – which I adored – but there always was at least one pea, or square cut carrot, imbedded in the brownie: desperate, escaped convicts from the vegetable compartment next to it.Like many of my classmates in High School, I worked in the tourism sector, chopping onions and making French Fries at Jack-in-the-Box drive through restaurant, and McDonalds. I was working in McDonalds when the first McNuggets appeared, and we were required to suggestive-sell this new product to each customer with the following phrase:
“Good afternoon. Welcome to McDonalds. Would you like to try our new Chicken McNuggets today?”
A man in a large chicken costume stood in front of the till and gave away free samples (he didn’t have to say anything). Often, customers were stood standing in front of me, struggling to remember a precariously large order from memory; the suggestive-selling sentence usually brought them to their knees, and the order was forgotten.
I loved beach barbeques
Particularly chocolate and marshmallow S’Mores, meticulously toasted using unpainted bent wire coat hangers, and always dusted with a slightly gritty layer of beach sand. Seafood was plentiful on the menus in the local Marina. My father suffered terribly one night after a rather large “Surf ‘n’ Turf” meal, consisting of lobster and steak on the same plate. We decided the next morning that this combination really was gilding the lily.The influence of Alice Waters
As I grew older, the influence of restauranteur Alice Waters, in the San Francisco Bay Area, began to infiltrate California diets, and a trend towards fresh, locally sourced produce began to emerge. We began to relish the enormous supply of incredibly fresh, beautiful produce, grown practically in our back yards, and readily available throughout the calendar year in our enormous, air-conditioned supermarkets. Salads began to flourish, and become meals in their own right. Dips and crudité and fresh fruit puddings replaced the “things-with-pineapple-chunks-on-a-stick” mentality of the 1950’s cocktail party brigade. The proportion of meat-to-vegetables on a plate began to alter, and the meat – or poultry - element in a recipe became proportionally less, as people tended to try and reduce their red meat intake, and increase their fruit and vegetable intake.When I was little, in our back garden, we had a big swimming pool, avocado and lemon trees, and a large pomegranate shrub in the front driveway. I didn’t appreciate back then, what a rare and beautiful thing this was. (I used to toss the lemons up in the air, at dusk, to attract bats, or throw them across the lawn for my Scottish terriers to catch. They both had little bleached beards below their mouths, stained by the juice of a thousand lemons). I’d love to grow these plants in my Wiltshire garden today, but I don’t think they’d survive a British winter. I didn’t learn how to cut open a pomegranate until about a month ago; I certainly never ate them as a child. But today, I can celebrate the arrival of the first forced rhubarb from Yorkshire, relish the freshest new Jersey Royals, and tender asparagus from the Wye Valley.
Mexican Cuisine, and Tex-Mex fusions, soon became popular in Southern California. Scandinavian influences became popular in the Pacific Northwest. America, on the whole, is such an enormous melting pot of cultures and inspirations, that pretty much anything you see on a plate in a Californian restaurant can have its roots in an immigrant diet from another country.
Bringing Californian cuisine to Wiltshire
It’s been such a delight bringing the colours, tastes, and seasonings of California Cuisine to Wiltshire. Of course today, many more people have a better understanding of the concept of air-miles, and the buy fresh, buy local, campaigns, which are spreading throughout the nation. I’m interested in where our food comes from, and who provides it, and I love to hear the stories of my suppliers, and the disparate journeys which have led them to bring their products to this town, and to my catering company.From Space Food Sticks to Cobb Salads: what a journey! What incredible progress in one lifetime. I’m fond of saying that California Cuisine tastes like a holiday, and to me, it does. It takes like sunlight and fresh air and healthy living, and I intend to spread this around, wherever I go.
RECIPE: S’MORES
1 x box Graham Crackers, or Digestive biscuits1 x bag large marshmallows
2 x 500g bars Hershey milk chocolate cooking squares, or equivalent
1 x wire coat hanger, unpainted, unbent to create one long toasting fork with a hook on the end
1 x campfire, mellowed to embers
METHOD:
Skewer as many marshmallows as you dare, onto the improvised toasting fork.
Gently brown over the embers, rotating frequently. ( Some people like a nice, evenly browned, lightly puffed marshmallow. Others prefer a flaming carbon-infused creation, in which the crispy black outer coating separates from the molten, sticky interior, giving you separate bites of crunch and cream. Many children are too impatient to wait for very long, and prefer to eat their marshmallows unscathed).
When the marshmallow is cooked to your preference, make a sandwich using two Graham cracker slices for the bread, insert four chocolate squares inside, and slide the gooey toasted marshmallow into the middle. Eat carefully: the marshmallow will be hot and sticky. When you want another one, ask for “S’More”!
