There’s nothing that gives me more pleasure when I come home on a cold winter evening than the sight of a fat, succulent bird splayed out on my kitchen table. (That’s not to say I’m a fan of coq au vin – that’s always been more Michel Roux Jr’s kind of thing, the fruity devil.) The mere thought of a piping hot lump of white (or brown) meat for me to devour is enough to send me into raptures. Sometimes it’s hard to stop myself taking a running jump onto the beast when I burst through the kitchen door.
The legs are the part I like to go to work on first. I’ll scoop up a handful of butter and start massaging it in to make sure the meat is lovely and moist before I tuck in. This tends to make the gooey loveliness from the stuffing start to ooze out – and that really gets my juices going. Yes! Yes! OH YES! If the mood takes me, I’ll wrap the thighs round my head and run around the room barking like a hungry Alsatian before howling like a wolf. Woof, woof, woof. Awoooooh!
After I’m done with the legs I like to move up to where the meat is most ample: the breast. It’s as near perfect a thing to sink my old lips into as I can imagine. Some people like to slowly nibble away at the breast to appreciate its tenderness but I just put the whole thing in my mouth at once and slosh it about with my tongue. Phwooooh! So yummy – especially when smeared in chocolate sauce and sprinkled with hundreds and thousands. Naughty but very, very nice. A true delight.
As you’ve probably gathered, this big boy likes the sweeter things. I like to indulge. I always spray my hors d’oeuvres in whipped cream before I even think about putting them near my mouth. It can help to wash away any strong flavours and cleanse the palette before tucking into something more refined. I’ve also got a real soft spot for tarts. They’re the kind of pudding I wouldn’t marry but would love to take away for a dirty weekend in a hotel. Nothing beats the velvety goodness of a deep, deep chocolate tart. What a triumph. They’re rich, they’re sumptuous… I’d happily nuzzle my face in one and leave it there all day. Phwaarghh-huh-huh!
This weekly column also appears on Vice.com
