meemalee

It's the morning after the night before and my husband, his brother, his brother's girlfriend and I ooze slowly down from the comfort of the lovely apartment and crumple into a little heap at the bottom of the stairs. "Morning," chirps a jaunty-hatted Mat Follas , in a pinchably cheerful manner, "Don't tell me you've just got up?". "Grhmmmhrth", I say as we sit down at the long wooden table for some reviving coffee and cake. It's not that early to be fair - 9.30am. The restaurant is full of other sprightly looking people - we've all gathered for a foraging course at the Wild Garlic led by expert Theo Langton and Mat himself. "You're wearing city shoes" says Mat about my tough, plain black Clark's boots, "You're going to get mucky". I make another noise of disdain and nurse my cup of coffee. The brother-in-law and girlfriend are a good bit younger than the husband and me and, thoroughly perked up, t...

Though an ardent food-lover, there are a few food-stuffs which I'm really not particularly keen on: Aubergines, for their creepy texture and nothing flavour, though people have tried to cure me , and one place almost succeeded . Cucumbers, for their ability to make me start belching like a small toad if I even get a sniff of them. Cardamom, but only when used in sweet food - love it in, say, a chicken biryani. And goats' cheese, because it's claggy, and whiffs and tastes like a sweaty, goaty jockstrap. But - I am always happy to be proved wrong. And so it was the case that the first time I tried Soft Fresh, a goats' cheese from Brock Hall Farm (about which I'd heard good things), I had a cheesy epiphany. It came in the shape of an onion tart. My husband's choice of starter for lunch at The Wild Garlic in Dorset. I poo-poo'd his folly, as I merrily ordered a pot of stickily delicious moules marinieres. But then his onion tart arrived, ...

I'm staring at the biggest box of onions I have ever seen in my life. And all I can think is, "Oh boy". About six months ago, I was chatting on Twitter, when someone asked me for a Burmese restaurant recommendation. I mentioned Mandalay as being the only place I knew of, and then someone else jumped in and asked if I'd do a Burmese night and cook for people. The next thing I knew, Mat Follas, the chef and owner of The Wild Garlic and winner of MasterChef 2009, tweeted to me, "Why don't you come and cook Burmese food at my place?" I am not a chef. I had never been in a professional kitchen. So I did what any normal person would have done in the circumstances, and I rang up my friend Kavey and screamed at her in excitement, " Oh My God - is he joking? I'd love to do it. Do you think I can do it? What the hell should I say? " Kavey is infinitely more sensible than me, and she said to me, " Play it cool and say yes ". So I said yes...

Yes, I know I've just come back from cooking Burmese food at The Wild Garlic and you may want to know a little more about that. However, I thought I'd take a step back and throw you a curve ball by writing about what Mat Follas and his fine brigade normally dish up. Last February, my husband, his brother, his brother's girlfriend and I had resolved that as soon as the gladiator that had slain his opponents in culinary warfare had established a going concern, we would venture west and pay a pilgrimage to this champion. Well, life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans, so it's not till more than a year later that we four are embarking on an adventure to the distant land of Dorset to make good this resolution. None of us want to drive, so we get a train to the nearest station, and thus find ourselves in the village of Crewkerne wondering what the hell to do. There's some kind of funfair being set up, and the temptation to go on the Mega-...