January was a long, old month and probably the busiest in my working year. I'm glad its gone. A marathon of dinners with varying winemakers from around the world may sound like a perfect job (and I'm not complaining) but, as much as I love the likes of St John, Chez Bruce and L'Autre Pied eating in all three in just six days was a bit too much.
Like anything else, when you gorge on something it can quickly lose its lustre. I'm happy to be at home on a Monday night, cooking for myself and eating a one (rather than three, four or five) course meal. Some humble pak choi, soy and noodles will do me tonight.
But I'm still hoping for a foodie February. I've just popped some duck legs into the oven, submerged in their own fat. The start of my first homemade cassoulet. I'm relishing making a dish that will take 2-3 weeks to come together, all from scratch. It's the opposite of just selecting something quickly from a menu and waiting for someone else to do the work.
And the best thing I ate over the weekend? Gorwydd's Caerphilly Cheese. As crumbly as the English defence and as sweet as a James Hook conversion.
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