There is something really satisfying about synchronicity when cooking. It was the one thing that my Mum could usually pull off, the roast beef cooked, carved and served with veg and roast potatoes all at the same time (I know know the veg was on far too long and the meat was often bolstered heatwise by the gravy – but secrets don’t diminish it). Last night we had a leaving party for one of our flatmates, and whilst the girls sat in the living room watching the fireworks laid on ot near Thamesmead, us men were busy in the kitchen making a selection of Tapas.

Nothing made was hard to do. Possibly the most technically difficult thing was the Tortilla, but I’ve made that so many times its down to an art. On went the potatoes and in a seperate poan the tomatoes (oil, vinegar, sugar and chilli) for Patas Bravas. Asparagus what drizzled and whapped under the grill. Garlic and butter went in the pan for some fat lovin’ mushroom and the mixed chorizo was sliced and lovingly prepared on a plate. Everything depended on the tortilla. Just when the egg started firming, I tossed the bugger, reserved the bravas sauce andput on another pan to fry the chorizo with red wine. Sauteed the potatoes, fired the grill, finished off the mushrooms. Then came the steady stream of plates from the kitchen:
Garlic Mushrooms
Mixed ham and chorizo
Chargrilled asparagus
Patas Bravas
Queso (I had some Manchego left over)
Corizo in red wine
and the wonderfully bloomy tortilla.

There is something of the “too many presents at Christmas” syndrome to watch peoples eyes in this scenario. Along with the hunks of bread, it all went down a treat. I even got the first inch out in over a year and taught a Belle and Sebastian dyed int he wool indieist to love Busted! Hmm, synchronicity.