If we leave aside the fact that summer has disappeared, rain and cold have returned with a vengeance and I’ve had to put my central heating on again … well, foodwise, this is a wonderful time of the year: there’s nothing like English asparagus and English strawberries, both in season, and you just have to grab as much of them and enjoy them in season while you can.

One of my favourite pizzas on the old Pizza Express menu – I was in one in Mayfair on Friday night and the menu had changed significantly – was Pizza Parmese. As the name suggests, there was a strong ‘Parma’ theme. It was basically a pizza topped with fresh asparagus, Parma ham, soft cooked egg and Parmesan cheese. Well, of course, you can see where I’m going with this …

I couldn’t resist the lovely organic asparagus I saw yesterday so decided on this simple supper tonight.

The whole thing is ready in minutes. I steamed the asparagus, with just a sprinkling of salt over the top, till just tender; slightly al dente. Meanwhile, I soft-boiled two eggs. You could fry them but I’m not into fried eggs; you could also poach them, but I seem to have forgotten how to do it. I remember being able to poach eggs well as a teenager; my father taught me. I came from a family of pub owners and caterers and all the men in my family can cook well. Even the ones who have chosen different careers … My father was my partner in gastronomic crime when I was growing up and it came down to hunting out good food and wines.

Back to supper … just assemble it all: put some slices of good Parma ham on the plate; lay the cooked asparagus carefully beside it. When the eggs are ready, run cold water into the pan till you can handle them and take the shells off. Then lay them on top of the asparagus and carefully break them open so the soft egg yolk inside nicely spills across the asparagus. Drizzle over a little extra virgin olive oil. Then shave some Parmesan on top and finish off with a good grating of black pepper. I also had some nice crusty French bread to mop up the juices. And there you are: a simple and very delicious supper, ready in just a few minutes.

OK. This is just about the quickest and easiest salad imaginable. And it definitely doesn’t require full-blown ‘chef’ skills. It was inspired by two things: left-over pasta from last night – some lovely orechiette pasta that always reminds me of my holiday in Puglia with daughter Nicola about eighteen months ago, and a lunch that Nicola herself made for me on Sunday when I arrived in Birmingham to visit her, though she used black chickpeas instead of pasta. The unusual black chickpeas were the last of a packet of dried ones she’d bought on the same holiday.

The salad I put together, light and summery for this glorious weather we’ve been enjoying over the past week or so, is almost a ‘store cupboard’ supper as the ingredients are all things that I regularly have to hand.

Gather everything together. The amount of leftover pasta I had was just enough for one (of course, you may have to cook some if you don’t have leftovers!). I used a small tin of sustainable, good-quality tuna packed in olive oil, a handful of cherry tomatoes – in this case a mix of red and yellow, which I cut in half; 1 teaspoon capers; a few olives – I had some small black ones that I cut in half; half a small red onion, finely chopped; and some parsley – I had flat leaf and picked the leaves off separately because I thought that would look nice, but if you have the curly variety just chop some to add.

I put everything straight into the bowl I was going to eat from, draining the oil from the tuna and flaking it. Then I made a dressing from 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil and 1 tablespoon lemon juice, which I seasoned with some salt and pepper. I poured the dressing over the salad, added some more black pepper (because I love it so) but not salt because of the olives and capers, and then gently tossed the whole thing – and hey presto! Supper ready in just a few short minutes.

I’m not a great fan of those big American-style salads where everything lurking in the fridge is thrown in, and generally I don’t like to add too many things to one salad (it’s the Italiaphile in me that likes to keep things simple and true to their flavour), but all these ingredients combine well. The essential base is the tuna and tomatoes and the other ingredients are really flavourings. An added bonus is that it’s pretty healthy too!

I had to postpone a visit to daughter Nicola by a week but it turned out to be fortuitous as it meant I was in Birmingham yesterday for the MAC Food Festival. MAC is an arts centre and this was its first ever food festival featuring stalls by local artisan bakers; makers of chutneys, cupcakes, sausages, spice mixes; local delis and a whole range of lovely food stuffs.

A food and craft fair I’d been to a few months ago in Birmingham turned out to be a be of a non-event, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect yesterday. However, there was plenty here to keep The Single Gourmet Traveller happy. From the smell of Caribbean barbecue when we arrived as the Soul Food Project had taken over the MAC’s cafe for the day, to the stalls inside displaying a wonderful array of foods. First up we talked to a stallholder whose sausages looked fantastic and he told us he’d made them that morning and ran sausage-making classes. We bought two of each of the three choices – and later they’d go on the barbecue.

Next stall along I spied a row of chutneys to taste. I like a good chutney with cheese for lunch sometimes, but a really good chutney is hard to come by. I’ve made my own in the past, though not for many years, but it was by some strange coincidence that only a couple of days ago, after another disappointing and far too sweet shop-bought chutney, I’d been contemplating getting my preserving pan out of storage. So, tasting the samples at Cuffufle Chutney’s stall was a must and they were delicious enough for me to come away with a Spiced Apple Chutney.

There was raw chocolate to try at Trishul Chocolate and vegan food at ChangeKitchen – whose owner Birgit Kehrer later did a cookery demonstration and talked about the classes she runs privately, for businesses or in schools.

Then we moved on to Lewis’s Deli‘s stall. I have to say this was my absolute favourite stall and I spent ages talking to the friendly Lewis, while Nicola persuaded me we just had to busy some of his raspberry and white chocolate muffins (sorry … we ate them before I remembered I should have got my camera out!) and buy bottles of lovely La Mortuacienne artisan lemonades.

I could have happily filled a large shopping bag with goodies from Lewis’s stall; his range of foods was of the highest quality. Nicola and I also discussed afterwards that a big part of the whole ‘deli’ experience is buying foods that are different and special from a knowledgeable and friendly person who will talk to you about what they sell and recommend things. Lewis definitely fits the bill and although I didn’t buy much from him yesterday, I’m definitely heading to his Moseley shop next time I’m in Birmingham – with a large cool box!

Our final stop was at Capeling & Co’s cheese stall. They have a shop in King’s Heath and Nicola said it was very good. There was a good choice but we settled on buying some Genievre de Cremier cheese, made from ewes’ milk, with a nice nutty flavour.

Back at Nicola’s we decided to stay in to eat and put together an evening meal from some of the things we’d bought. We started with some filled spinach and ricotta pasta that Nicola had bought from Lewis’s shop. They were without doubt the best bought filled pasta I’ve had.

When Nicola showed me the packaging I immediately recognised the Camissa name – Camissa is one of the oldest and best Italian delis in London’s Soho. No wonder it was so good. We then barbecued the sausages – you can see the quality here:

They were wonderfully meaty with the different herb and spice flavourings cleanly shining through, making these top-notch sausages. Nicola made a delicious pea, baby broad bean and mint salad to go with them … which sadly I was too busy eating and enjoying before I thought to find that camera – again!

Back home today, after a trip down the M40 to London, the last couple of the sausages went into my freezer for another time and I enjoyed the lovely Genievre de Cremier cheese with the Spiced Apple Chutney, a crunchy fresh flute of bread from Paul in Richmond and a tasty tomato. Like all simple meals, when you buy the highest quality ingredients then the result is something special and wonderful.

Just when we’d all given up on summer following the wettest April on record and a dull, cold and miserable May … the sun decided to make a comeback. And hey! What a comeback. The temperature has soared, the sky is blue with not a cloud in sight, and the garden has burst into a riot of colour. When the sun is hot and I want to take a break on a deckchair in the garden then there is no treat that pleases me as much as an affogato.

Regular readers of this blog will know of my coffee addiction; that I’ll walk an extra mile for a good coffee – as found at Taylor St Baristas in Richmond, or New Row Coffee in Covent Garden. If you read my posts from Rome in March, you’ll also know of my love of ice cream and how being in Rome means at least one gelato a day from one of the many fabulous gelaterias there. Therefore, it goes without saying that affogato is one thing The Single Gourmet Traveller can never resist: ice cream, literally ‘drowned’ (affogato) in coffee.

I first experienced – yes, one experiences good food and drink - affogato in Venice about twelve years ago. These were the days of family holidays and we were there with another family, enjoying lunch in the sun in a cafe in Campo Santo Stefano, near the Accademia Bridge. I can’t remember who first spied a succession of little dishes of vanilla ice cream, accompanied by espresso shots, being delivered to a number of tables, but the coffee lovers amongst us soon decided we had to join in. All I can say is that the marriage of a good strong espresso and good vanilla ice cream is one made in heaven – and where affogato is concerned, I’ve never looked back.

To put it together really couldn’t be simpler. But you do need some excellent coffee and some very good ice cream to get the best experience.

I still have coffee beans from the wonderful Caffe Sant’Eustachio that I bought in Rome, so I ground enough for one cup and got my espresso machine ready to be turned on.

I then put a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream into a glass cup, turned on the coffee machine and made my espresso. Now you want to bring the two components together quickly, but if you’re serving it to others, then allow them to pour the espresso over themselves when they’re ready to eat.

Gently pour the hot coffee over the cold ice cream. As you eat the ice cream, the coffee will melt it and the two gorgeous flavours combine to make a creamy, rich, ambrosial treat. This is perhaps the easiest dessert imaginable, yet it is also one of the most wonderful.

I met Paul Merrett at The Victoria this morning; a critically acclaimed gastro pub in South West London, close to Richmond Park. Chef Paul and restaurateur Greg Bellamy opened the pub in 2008 and since then it has gained a reputation for serving excellent food. The Times described it as ‘an absolute treat for foodie familes’ and also named it one of the best 50 places to eat al fresco in 2010. With its seven bedrooms, it’s recommended as a Special Place to Stay by Sawday’s and in 2011 was voted Best Gastro Pub in London at The Great Pub Awards.

Paul earned his own fine reputation as a great chef long before The Victoria opened. He’s seen frequently on TV shows like Saturday Kitchen and Market Kitchen, and is the author of two cookery books, Economy Gastronomy and Using the Plot: Tales of an Allotment Chef ; he is currently writing a third book on Asian/spicy food, one of his passions. Paul’s road to TV and gastro pub fame has come via an impressive route and includes him achieving two separate Michelin stars at former restaurants.

Paul admitted that he didn’t achieve much academic success at school and it was his mother who suggested he went to catering college to learn to cook; it was a life skill and would also enable him to travel if he wanted. He didn’t cook as a child but he came from a foodie family where he learned to enjoy and appreciate good food. After three years at college, he wrote to The Ritz and was offered a three-year apprenticeship there. It was much easier in those days, Paul said, to get those kind of breaks. But even now, he continued, one of the joys of cooking is that it’s still a profession where you don’t need qualifications in order to succeed; if you’re good and apply yourself, you can achieve great things.

From The Ritz, Paul moved to Le Souffle restaurant at the Inter-Continental Hotel, at the time one of the best restaurants in London, and while The Ritz had provided him with the building bricks to becoming a chef, it’s at Le Souffle under Peter Kromberg that Paul really learned to cook. From there he moved to one of Gary Rhodes restaurants, and then he became head chef at the young age of 27 at a Meridian Hotel, where he worked with a fantastic general manager who had great faith in him and where he learned to manage people and budgets. Later, at Interlude in Charlotte Street, London, he gained his first Michelin star; following this he gained another Michelin star at The Greenhouse. This was ‘high octane cooking’ he told me. He left The Greenhouse to open The Victoria.

We then moved on to Paul’s choice of books.

1. Crust, Richard Bertinet (2007) – Paul said when he took over the gastro pub, it was a new arena for him and he wanted to make as much of his own stuff as he could. He was a novice baker and this book proved invaluable in honing his baking skills. It begins, he told me, by assuming you don’t know much about baking and by the end, it assumes you’ve learned a lot. It’s full of lots of good tips and Paul said the pub’s bread making is influenced more by this book than any other.

2. The Oxford Companion to Food, Alan Davidson (2nd edition 2006) – You can sit down, Paul told me, and open any page in this book and find something interesting to read. If you want to know anything about food, recipes, ingredients, then here you’ll find its history and uses and anything you need to know. Paul likes to browse through it; uses it as a reference book; and will refer to it when briefing waiters about the specific details of a recipe or ingredients.

3. The Man Who Ate Everything, Jeffrey Steingarten (1999) – Steingarten was a lawyer until 1989 when American Vogue offered him a job as a food writer. The title of the book reflects Steingarten’s decision to become a ‘perfect omnivore’ at the time and eat everything and anything, which required him to overcome food dislikes and phobias. Paul told me the book is a series of essays Steingarten wrote for Vogue. What he loves is Steingarten’s attention to detail; how he becomes obsessed by a particular subject and considers all angles. If he was looking at salt, for instance, he’d order salt from all over the world and turn his kitchen into a laboratory and become completely immersed. Paul loves the way he writes; the way he writes about food, himself and displays a fabulous wit and is so amusing. Paul said the book had influenced his own writing and he likes to convey the passion and story behind his recipes.

4. White Heat, Marco Pierre White (1990) – Paul said he’d challenge anyone to find a chef in their forties who didn’t put this book in their list. When he was starting out at The Ritz, Paul said the big name chefs of the day were people like Anton Mosimann and the Roux brothers. Great chefs, but it was hard for a young chef to identify with them. Then along came the crazy, rule-breaking Marco Pierre White who was absolutely and instantly a role model. White was a mixture of food and rock ‘n’ roll. It was incredibly motivating, Paul said. It made him want to be a chef more than anything. White has written other books but Paul likes White Heat because of the way you see White smoking in photos, black and white photos of what’s going on in his kitchen, and in this book more than any other White’s voice comes through and he’s telling you what to think.

5.  How to be a Domestic Goddess, Nigella Lawson (2000) – Paul said at home in his kitchen he had shelves full of at least 600 cookery books. Many are by the finest chefs in the world, but many he’s only looked at once. The one book at home that he and his family use again and again is this one by Nigella Lawson. It’s all about home cooking, said Paul; all those nice family things likes cakes and biscuits. He likes the way she writes; she demystifies food well and lots of her recipes have nice twists, although she always respects a classic recipe.

6. On Food and Cooking, Harold McGee (2004) – subtitled, ‘The science and lore of the kitchen’, this isn’t easy reading, said Paul. It’s about culinary science. The book has been around a long time and has been updated, its popularity growing with the current interest in molecular cooking. It’s a great book for the non-scientist who wants to understand what’s happening in the kitchen; the whys and hows of cooking practices. McGee exposes many practices that have gone on a long time, for instance, sealing meat before cooking it, and explains why this isn’t necessarily the best approach. Paul uses the book often for reference or for hints on cooking certain things.

7. El Bulli, Ferran Adria (2006) – Paul said when he was at The Greenhouse this book had a huge effect on him. ‘Looking at the food scared the life out of me as it was so amazing.’ This was a man (Adria) at the summit; it was intimidating. Paul got the book at El Bulli where he was taken by a journalist along with other celebrity chefs, including Gordon Ramsay and Heston Blumenthal. It was an awesome meal, he told me, and they sat with Adria and were taken into the kitchens and so the book sums up a special moment for him and the way it jolted him into seeing what could be achieved. Paul said what he really likes about Adria’s cooking is not just the discipline of this kind of molecular cooking but the wit and quirky humour behind it. You look at the food and your mind takes you one place; you taste it and your senses pick up something else. It’s fun food.

8. Beef and Liberty, Ben Rogers (2004) – Rogers closely analyses the development of food and cooking in Britain by contrasting it with what was happening in France at the same time. He makes a strong case, Paul told me, for Britain having a far more important role in gastronomy than previously recognised. Things are changing, Paul said, but there’s still an underlying belief that British food will never be as good as French, but this book shows that the great French chefs came to Britain to cook and enjoyed a much more flexible attitude to the development of their craft than their country’s strict adherence to formal practices allowed. Going back to Marco Pierre White, Paul said, he loved the way that White, an Englishman, won his three Michelin stars without ever going to France to work.

9. Barrafina: A Spanish Cookbook, Sam Hart, Eddie Hart & Nieves Barragan Mohacho (2011) – Paul said he goes back to this restaurant more than any other. He loves Spanish food and their way of eating and he likes to go with his son and sit at the bar and order six or seven dishes; then order some more. Some restaurant cookbooks, Paul said, are changed to fit the domestic market but this one isn’t. He refers to it time and time again to bring ideas to dishes. There are some great photos and the recipes are well written.

10. Asian Flavours of Jean-Georges, Jean George Vongerichten (2007) – Vongerichten is chef and owner of 18 restaurants around the world specialising in Asian-fusion cuisine. One of his New York restaurants, The Spice Market, is one of Paul’s favourite restaurants (he said at first it was his favourite restaurant in the world, but then qualified it as ‘one of’ – these decisions are hard to make!). It’s a restaurant where everything comes together: the interior with its wooden decor, low ceilings, hanging lanterns and funky New York feel; the amazing atmosphere – but, what really knocks you out, said Paul, is the food. This is Asian street food taken to a fine dining level. The book is full of great dressings, marinades and quirky ideas. He knows he could open any page of the book and there’d be something he’d love to cook.

So, I asked Paul, which of these would be his overall number one? A difficult question. The professional chef in him, said Paul, would choose White Heat but the cook at home would choose Domestic Goddess or Barrafina.

I had a great time talking to Paul, finding out about his career and the experience and passion he brings to The Victoria. I haven’t, I’m rather ashamed to say, been to The Victoria yet, even though I’ve heard so many good things about it. I must put that right soon because it’s clearly a lot more than your average – even good – gastro pub and I can’t wait to try it out.

Serendipity: ‘the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way’ (Oxford Concise Dictionary). And it was thus by chance that we happened today upon The Cock in the beautiful Cambridgeshire village of Hemingford Grey. The ‘development of events’ was what happened due to my getting us lost on our way to a kennels near Huntingdon. It doesn’t require many navigation skills to take one up the A1(M) from London and as we approached Huntingdon where we were supposed to briefly join the A14 before scooting off onto the A141, I rather carelessly said to Jonathan, who was driving,’Oh it’s just straight on.’ Umm. No actually. It might look like that on the map but it’s not how it works in practice. Fortunately he worked out my mistake pretty quickly. All three mobile phones came out as we each asked our own where we were and how did we get to Doddington. In our attempt to cut across a triangle of roads we found ourselves driving through Hemingford Grey, a pretty village with thatch-roofed cottages and in which I first spied The Cock, thinking, That looks a good place. However, having already caused some delay to our journey, I judged it an ill moment to cause further delay by saying, Hey, let’s take a look at that pub.

All travel mishaps were forgotten once we met Zeph, the Yorkshire Terrier puppy Jonathan and Lyndsey are buying.

From shaking nervously when he first saw us, Zeph was soon a happy and friendly little fellow enjoying all the love and attention being lavished upon him. How Jonathan and Lyndsey will wait out the two weeks to bring him home, I don’t know. However, by the time we set off back to London my thoughts were inevitably turning to my stomach. The Single Gourmet Traveller’s thoughts rarely stray from food for long – even with a beautiful puppy to distract her. It was definitely lunchtime. I started to say, We passed a nice looking place … And Jonathan interrupted, The Cock. Yes, he’d seen it too. So, how did we find this pub that we’d stumbled upon by chance while lost? Step in the iPhone. ‘The Cock near Huntingdon’ I asked it, and soon a website and map appeared. And we were on our way.

The car park was so packed we were a bit worried they might not have a table. But they did. And how nice it was to sit down in such a welcoming and cosy place. As we looked at menus a plate of good bread and olive oil with balsamic was put before us.

As a place to eat that caught our attention in passing, it turned out to be a remarkably good piece of luck. As we entered, I noticed signs saying it was in Michelin 2012, The Good Food Guide and I see from the website it was recently featured in The Times as one of the top ten dining pubs in the country. Well … isn’t it a good thing I got us lost!

The Cock’s menu is guided by the seasons and the fish dishes were all on the blackboard, from which I chose Salmon with Beetroot Mash and Pea Puree (£14). Jonathan and Lyndsey went for sausages and mash (£11.50). There was a choice of four sausages – and they went for one of each! There was Pork and Apple, Pork with Stilton and Spinach, Beef and Mustard and Traditional Pork. There’s a choice of mash and sauces to go with them: Jonathan chose Spring Onion Mash with Red Wine Sauce and Lyndsey had Hemingford Mash (horseradish & mustard) with Onion Gravy. They also come with seasonal greens. The sausages are made in house by Richard Bradley (co-owner), mainly from Gloucestershire Old Spots pork. Jonathan gave me tastes and they were really delicious; some of best sausages I’ve had. My salmon was good too and I liked the mash and puree with it.

When eating somewhere good the gourmet in me always turns to a little bit of a glutton and wants a pud. Well, they did sound good (all priced £6): Raspberry & Elderflower Jelly with Clotted Cream Ice Cream, Creme Brulee with Shortbread and – which both Lyndsey and I chose – Chocolate & Pear Brownie with Hot Chocolate Sauce and Pear & Vanilla Ice Cream. If you’re going to be a glutton, you might as well go the whole way!

I have to say it wasn’t quite as good as I expected: I was expecting warm brownie but it was cold, as was the ‘hot chocolate sauce’, and a little heavy. But it tasted nice and chocolatey; I liked the classic pear and chocolate combination put into a brownie, and the ice cream was good.

The Cock was a great serendipity find. And isn’t it great when one happens on a good place to eat by chance? And it did happily distract from my rather poor navigational skills today …. Unfortunately, for a South West London girl, it’s a little far for an easy return visit, but if you’re in the area, then take a detour, go there for lunch (Monday-Friday there’s a good set price lunch menu of £12.50 for 2 courses; £16.50 for 3). And next time I’m in Cambridgeshire, I’m definitely going back!

I’ve always loved going to Sam’s. It’s my kind of place: a delicious blend of informality and sophistication with great food and excellent wine. As soon as you go into the brasserie, a large open dining area with bar that’s housed in a former warehouse (or so it looks from outside), there’s a kind of welcoming buzz that’s instantly appealing. The staff are always exceptionally friendly and efficient without in any way being obsequious, and the food is the kind of eclectic brasserie mix that means anyone should be able to find something to please them: from a Goat’s Cheese, Swiss Chard & Cherry Tomato Strudel, to a Goan Fish & Prawn Curry to an Aged Rib-Eye Steak. That said, it’s not a particularly large choice – nine main courses – but for me that’s a good sign. It says, this is what we’re cooking freshly today and indeed our menu tonight had today’s date printed on it.

Sam’s Brasserie is open for breakfast, coffee, light lunch, snacks, to a full three-course meal. Some nights they have live jazz or soul music or other events. It’s the kind of place that if you were lucky enough to live nearby you might find yourself taking up semi-residence.

I was introduced to Sam’s about five years ago by a friend who lived near and at that time I went quite regularly. I hadn’t been back for a while, though I’ve spoken of it often and recommended it. It was definitely time for a return visit so I suggested to my friend Liz that I pick her up in Kew and then it was a short trip across Kew Bridge and into Chiswick High Road where the brasserie is situated in Barley Mow Passage right near Turnham Green.

We arrived in time for their Early Bird Dinner Menu – two courses for £13.50/three courses for £16.50 – which is available Sunday to Thursday from 6.30-7.30. There’s a choice of three starters, three main courses and three puds. Liz went for the Cream of White Cabbage & Crispy Pancetta Soup while I chose Seared Chicken Livers on Toast with Tarragon Jus.

Liz found her soup a little too strongly seasoned but my chicken livers were perfection: they were deliciously soft and tender, delicately pink still and with a totally glorious, rich taste from the jus.

We both had Seared Sea Bream with Crushed Jersey Royals, French Beans and Salsa Verde for main courses. There was also a pasta or chicken choice.

The attractive looking plate lived up to its appeal. The fish was perfectly cooked and tasty; gorgeous little potatoes and al dente beans.

The desserts sounded good but being girls out midweek we decided we shouldn’t … another time … but we did have peppermint teas that nicely came in pots, so we had plenty. We’d also had glasses of wine with the meal. The bill at the end, £47 for two including 12.5% service, was good value I thought.

Sam’s is suitable for all kinds of occasions and there was a mix of ages there too. I really mustn’t – indeed, won’t – leave it so long before I go back again.

There’s been a lot of excitement about Al Boccon di’Vino around my local area of Richmond upon Thames for some time; indeed, word is spreading and my son Jonathan said even people in his London Bridge office were talking about this Venetian restaurant in South West London. I guess, therefore, it wasn’t surprising that it took three months for us to get a table on a Saturday evening.

The problem with high expectations is that they are all too easily dashed. And it might have been either fortuitous or unfortunate that I was sitting in real Venetian restaurants only a week ago, enjoying some fabulous food, which perhaps only increased my expectations.

The concept behind Al Boccon di’Vino is one found in many restaurants in Italy: you turn up and pay a set price (in this case £40 a head) and food just comes – and there are usually lots of courses, particularly lots of dishes of antipasti. There is no menu. The chef cooks both what’s available in the markets and what he/she wants to cook. Jonathan said last night that a friend had gone along a few times when Al Boccon di’Vino first opened and they did have a menu, but it was common for what you ordered not to be the same as what arrived on your plate – because the chef didn’t fancy cooking that that day. This kind of eccentricity can be appealing (if you’re resistant to just being plain annoyed), but it needs to be backed up with the goods, i.e. excellent cooking.

Al Boccon di’Vino is a small place and tables for a maximum of 34 covers are squashed into it. There are some rather weird wall decorations, including a large picture of Michelangelo’s David with a far larger sexual organ than will be found on the sculpture itself! The walls are lined with bottles of wine – indeed the restaurant claims to be a enoteca – wine bar – although as we sat down we were told there was just house wine and did we want red or white (at least that’s what Lyndsey and I thought they said; Jonathan thought they asked did we want house or special wine – but certainly no wine list was offered). Having eaten at a well-known restaurant in Venice, Corte Sconta, in its early days (and in my opinion better days; my fourth and last visit in 2008 was a big disappointment), where there was also no menu and not even a choice of red or white – an unlabelled white was put in front of you and that was it (fortunately it was also very good) – I wasn’t fazed by no choice of wine. A good restaurant should always serve good house wine.

We’d barely sat down and food started coming. A plate of freshly carved salame - we could see them cutting this and the prosciutto that came later behind the bar area straight onto plates, so it couldn’t have been any fresher. A ‘typical Venetian soup’ was then put before us – a cross between a ribolitta and a minestrone. It was ideal to warm us up as we came in from the unseasonably cold weather outside and very good. Then there was a little plate of grilled vegetables – courgettes, aubergine, red pepper, which were also delicious.

Food was coming at quite a fast rate; we decided we should pace ourselves but we were definitely being hurried a bit. When my son said he wanted to finish what was on his plate at one point, the waiter said he should eat up quickly and continued to take plates. We decided to laugh at this further sign of eccentricity … but not everyone would.

The fresh artichokes were lovely, reminding me of the proliferation of these purple-green jewels that I saw in the wonderful Rialto market last week. The asparagus was slightly overdone and if I were to have eggs with it, I would have preferred softly boiled or poached rather than cold hard boiled.

When some fish courses came, Jonathan reminded them that he’d said when he’d booked that he doesn’t eat fish and they were unfazed and happily went off and came back with a plate in which the fish had been replaced by other things. Very good. However, the ‘no fish’ somehow turned into ‘no fish or meat’ in their heads so when the – very good – beef carpaccio was put in front of Lyndsey and me, Jonathan found himself with a plate of courgette carpaccio. I have to say, the mistake was worth it to see Jonathan’s face. Beef carpaccio is one of his favourite things. However, again, the waiter happily went off and quickly came back with another beef version. These plates of antipasti were good, but not excellent: the prawns a little insipid; the scallops overdone and therefore chewy.

The rather too hurried start to the meal had slowed down by now and there were – thankfully – longer gaps between the courses. The two little pasta dishes, one filled with tomato and mozzarella and the other filled with some delicious porcini mushroom duxelle were tasty, but slightly underdone. I know my al dente but there was really just a bit too much bite left in these.

There was suddenly a lot of excitement in the restaurant, quiet was called and the manager announced ‘the main course’ – a huge dish filled with a whole roasted suckling pig that was taken around the room for everyone to see before it was carved. We realised now that the timing was all about everyone coming to the point of being ready for their main course at the same time. This did all add a nice community feel to the meal – a moment of everyone coming together. While I’d realised we were all eating the same thing in the full restaurant, I hadn’t realised we were eating together. Large plates of the pork were distributed to each table with some potatoes.

I have to confess I’m not a great pork fan – apart from prosciutto and bacon – but my two companions liked it and the whole little operatic event caused a happy and excited atmosphere to spark, adding to the convivial atmosphere.

The meal was almost at its end and a plate of three little desserts followed: tiramisu, pannacotta and some strawberry compote.

I’m a bit of a tiramisu snob and didn’t think much of this one; the pannacotta had a nice consistency but was a little too sweet. Coffee or tea followed and we were offered either limoncello or grappa with it. By the time we were asking for the bill – one of the first tables to do so – it was nearly 11 pm. We’d been there for three and a half hours. But then I’d photographed 14 plates of food, and it has to take a while to get through all that!

When the bill came we were slightly taken aback. We knew the food menu was £40 a head but had heard the wine was cheap. It turned out the house wine was £25 a bottle and as we’d had two, that added £50 to the bill. I said I suppose we should have asked, but Jonathan pointed out, fairly I think, that in a restaurant with no menu or wine list which you know is going to be a reasonably expensive meal, it seems a little strange to ‘check’ the price of the house wine. However, £25 isn’t cheap for a bottle of house wine and if you are going to spend that much, then I think you have a right to expect some choice in what you have – choice that goes beyond merely red or white. The total bill was £170 for the three of us before tip.

So. Did Al Boccon di’Vino live up to all the hype? Well, you’ve probably gathered by now that for us, no, not really. We had a fun evening – the atmosphere was lively, the service – apart from the odd eccentricity – was friendly and efficient. There was definitely a nice sense of the staff taking great pride in what they did and the food they produced. We liked this little taste of Italy that reminded us of restaurants in Italy we’d been to where there was no menu and what a good experience that can be. We could see that for a group of people it could be a fun place to go – no hassles about ordering food and sorting out who’s paying what. But it did cost a lot. And thus one can’t help comparing it to other places where you could get much better food for the same price. Al Boccon di’Vino is streaks ahead of all the chains that abound in Richmond, for all the food is freshly cooked and prepared, and there is a pleasing individuality that’s absent from the chains. But it’s good trattoria cooking; it’s not fine ristorante dining. And maybe that doesn’t matter if you want the different and rather theatrical experience and some good Italian food. But for us three, we were completed united in the thought that while we would go back, we wouldn’t be rushing back, and when it comes to great Italian food, there is nowhere in Richmond that beats the lovely A Cena for us.

This is essentially a Sophie Grigson recipe from her Organic book (though my version here is more a case of throwing the basic ingredients together – remembered from memory – rather following her recipe carefully). It’s been a favourite for years. My daughter Nicola discovered it in the book and once she’d cooked it for me, there was no turning back from this rising to the ‘favourite soups’ category in the family. Significantly, Sophie suggests using ‘winter squash’. ‘Significantly’ because, yes, it is May. But the weather gods don’t seem to know that; it’s cold, wet and dismally grey. So what better way to warm and brighten up the day than a bowl of this delicious, earthy and wonderfully sunny-looking soup for lunch.

I’ve always made the soup with butternut squash before but there was no sign of one in Waitrose this morning, so I came home with a gloriously bright and cheerful onion squash. I thought it might be hard to peel – peeling any large squash or marrow is fairly challenging – but it turned out to be quite easy with the aid of my nice big and sharp chef’s knife.

There’s nothing refined in the way I cook this. You could of course peel the tomatoes (I did cut out the woody stalk ends); you could even strain it all at the end for a smoother effect. But I’m more a rustic kind of soup person and the aim was only to provide something hot and delicious for a quick and simple lunch.

My onion squash weighed just over 1kg. Carefully hold it and slice downwards with a sharp knife to skin; turning it up the other way to do the other side. Remove the seeds. (They looked so good I felt I should look up ‘how to dry your own pumpkin seeds’ but then decided life was too short … or at least, it was today.) Cut into large chunks and put in an ovenproof dish with the following: 3 largish tomatoes, quartered (I know, there are 4 in the photo, but by the time I’d chopped them and added them, I decided 3 was enough), 2 small red onions, quartered; and 2 cloves garlic, peeled. Pour over a good amount of olive oil to well coat the vegetables and toss gently by hand. Then season well with some salt and freshly ground black pepper. Lay a large stalk of fresh rosemary and a few sprigs of fresh thyme on top. At this point I had a sudden urge to scatter in some dried red chilli flakes too.

Put into a 180 Fan/200 C oven for about 40 minutes, turning the vegetables gently halfway through so the edges don’t get burned. Once the squash is tender when you pierce with a fork, take out. Pick out the woody rosemary and thyme stalks.

Transfer the vegetables to a large saucepan and then pour in enough hot stock or water to almost cover. Whisk up with a hand blender, check seasoning – and viola! A gorgeous and warming lunch. I had mine with some olive fougasse I’d bought in Paul this morning and a nice bit of French cheese I’d got out of the fridge earlier. It took me under an hour from start to serving bowl to make this – and most of the time I just left it doing its stuff in the oven. I also have a few portions to freeze for another day.

I’ve been hearing good things about The French Table in leafy Surbiton for some time. From enthusiastic words about the restaurant from various people to my friend Jane telling me she’d stumbled by chance upon a wonderful cafe/bakery in Surbiton called The French Tarte that she thought The Single Gourmet Traveller should check out. When I checked it out online, I saw it was attached to this restaurant everyone was telling me I should visit. So, today, that’s where I went – to talk to Chef/Restaurateur Eric Guignard who runs The French Table with his wife, Sarah.

Since The French Table opened in 2001 it has received much acclaim: nominated ‘Best Local Restaurant’ by Timeout in 2002, getting to the finals of Gordon Ramsay’s F Word in 2009 as ‘Best Local French Restaurant’ and then Winner of Best London Restaurant in The Good Food Guide 2010.

Before opening The French Table, Eric enjoyed a career working in various parts of the world, including a number of Michelin starred restaurants. I asked him when he knew he wanted to be a chef; whether it was in his family. No, he said; none of his family are chefs, but he remembered spending time with his grandfather when he was small and living in France, where he was born, and helping to look after the rabbits and chickens – and learning how to butcher them. He said his parents worked hard and were often home late so he took to exploring the kitchen and teaching himself to cook. He was nine, he told me, when he decided to be a chef; he just knew it was what he wanted to do. I told him some of the other chefs I’ve interviewed have told me similar stories – almost a sense of realising very young that they were born to be chefs and there was never any doubt that that’s what they wanted to do.

At 16, Eric started his first job in a kitchen. It was very hard work, he said, and you only got one day off; you either survive or very quickly give up. From there he became a chef in the army when he did his year’s national service (compulsory in France) and then moved to Paris. He found a job in a good restaurant on the Ile St Louis where he learnt a lot but he was determined to find work in a Michelin-starred restaurant. After 16 months he moved to the Jules Verne restaurant on the Eiffel Tower where he stayed for two years. This was followed by a number of jobs in other Michelin-starred restaurants before working in the USA, then in Venice on the Orient Express and the Hotel Kempinski in Berlin.

Between 1995 and 1997, Eric worked at the Capital Hotel in Knightsbridge, the only privately owned hotel with a Michelin star. Around this time he met his wife Sarah and then worked at The White Onion in Islington until the couple opened The French Table in 2001. I’ve already mentioned the success the restaurant has enjoyed, but Eric and Sarah also run cookery classes from the restaurant’s kitchen on some Saturday mornings and Eric’s passion for baking led them to open The French Tarte next door just over a year ago. Here, apart from wonderful breads they make, you can buy delicious cakes, pastries and quiches, either to eat in or take out.

When we got to talking about books, Eric said he was always buying cookery books – some every week. He doesn’t so much use the recipes as find that looking through can inspire him to come up with new ideas.

1.  Alain Ducasse: Eric said Ducasse was without doubt his favourite chef and his books, like Grand Livre de Cuisine, were great but perhaps more for professionals as the recipes were complex.

2. Michel & Albert Roux: The Roux Brothers on Patisserie – Eric said that, pastry-wise, the Roux brothers’ recipes were sound and always good. This book is a great base for classic recipes.

3.  Auguste Escoffier: The Escoffier Cookbook: Guide to the Fine Art of French Cuisine - A classic.

4.  Anne Willan: La Varenne Cookbook – La Varenne is a cookery school in Paris and Eric said its cookbook is a great one for basics and is available in French and English – which is often helpful.

5.  Saveur Magazine – Eric said this was a great French food magazine that contains loads of ideas and he finds it useful to look through this for inspiration.

At this point we briefly moved off books to talk about the kind of cooking Eric does at home. For a chef who has travelled so much, I thought he’d have diverse culinary interests and indeed he does. He said in terms of French cooking, nothing for him can beat a good roasted chicken with lots of garlic and potatoes or a steak. But he loves to make Indian curries; often makes pizzas with his sons (7 and 8) and also stir fries – especially with prawns which are a great favourite.

6.  Anne-Sophie Pic - Pic is a 3-Michelin starred chef with a restaurant in Valence who has written a number of books that Eric recommends.

7.  Anne Willan: La France Gastronomique – a great reference book that divides France into regions so excellent for looking up classic recipes.

8.  Joel Robuchon – Eric thinks Robuchon’s L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon is one of the best restaurants in London. He’s written a number of books that Eric would recommend.

9.  Champignon Sauvage Cookbook: Champignon Sauvage is a restaurant in Cheltenham and Eric said he liked their cookbook a lot.

10.  La Maison Keyser is a prestigious bakery in Paris. Eric, having talked about his passion for baking and making bread, was inevitably going to choose a book on baking – and this is it.

I really enjoyed talking with Eric and must head back to this pretty road in Surbiton soon to eat at the restaurant. Meanwhile, I couldn’t resist heading back into the bakery after our meeting to buy a loaf I’d seen when I arrived – a chorizo loaf. The smell was divine and it made a wonderful quick lunch with its nice chunks of chorizo inside with some olive oil and salad.