Suzanne Pirret's Blog

I am at the Marylebone Farmer's Market at the very best time of day:  just before closing time. The get everything-practically-for-free time. 25+vendors are in the parking lot just off Moxon Road and are gathering their last remaining produce into crates and stacking them back onto their trucks. Most customers have left. It's a goldmine.

The fishmongers at maldon.co.uk yell over at me: "ALL FISH NOW HALF PRICE. GET YOUR FISH HERE NOW. ALL FISH…"

I walk up to their truck which features a...

Ave Maria, full of grace, Jamie Oliver is with youI’m at Borough Market at London Bridge on a rainy Spring afternoon. It’s practically empty. I’ve just wolfed down a warm and oozy speck and fiore di latte piadina from Gastronomica. As I crumble up its oddly greaseless parchment wrapping, I notice a brick-red vintage ‘caff’ stand. Center stage: a Mother Earth type — ruddy cheeks and cropped dark hair. She is merrily cooking away on her hearth. I approach her and introduce myself.

S: You fooled me. I thought this stand may have been one of the originals built in the 18th century.
Maria: I had it built like that because I used to be in Park Street. It was called the Borough Café. We’re the ones who put Bubble and Squeak back on the British menu. It’s the poor man’s lunch which originates from the East End of London really and it was basically the leftovers from Sunday lunch fried up together in a pan. They call it that because of the noise it makes while it cooks. You can hear it bubbling away. So now lots of top menus are doing it. Roast is doing it. Marks and Spencer’s is doing it. But I made Bubble & Squeak famous. I had a lot of chefs talk about it. Jamie Oliver mentioned me on his program.
S: So how do you make it?
M: It’s potato and cabbage fried up together.
S: That’s it?
M: Yeah. But it’s the way you do it.
S: And how’s that?
M: I’m not telling you.
S: Please? I’ll bring you my brownies.
M: No no no, it’s a secret. It’s the way you do it, it’s the way you cook it.
S: And what do you serve it with?
M: Whatever you want. Bacon, cheese and bubble back; egg, bacon, tomato and cheese as a breakfast; bubble sandwiches; bubble and beans.
S: What’s bacon, cheese and bubble back?
M: It’s bacon and cheese and then bubble and squeak inside a bread bun. I get people jumping into taxis to have it once a week. James McAvoy likes bacon cheese and bubble back.
S: What about Suzanne Pirret?
M: Who’s she? Listen, she don’t know me, I don’t know her.
S: It’s me! (I give her a copy of my book).
M: Well is that you, is it? It looks like a story. It’s not boring. If it’s just recipe after recipe after recipe, it does my head in. Food is like a story. It has a personality. It goes to your senses.
S: I was a ch…
M: I like the story of a poor man. Something that’s got a history with it. It’s the story behind the recipes. Something simple, like Bubble and Squeak. Where it originates from. Why it originates from there. The fact that it’s got a personality. Bubble and Squeak. Rhyming slang.
S: What’s tha…
M: Skin and blister, sister. Apple and pears, stairs. That comes from the east end of London. They used to use rhyming slang say, 100 years ago, cause they didn’t want the police to know what was going on.
(She pauses.)
I’ve been through a lot in my life. I’ve been through hell and back. But it’s made me who I am. Nobody special. Nobody extraordinary.
S: You’re beautiful.
M: I’m not beautiful. I like your book though.
An older gentleman approaches her counter.
M: I’m going to do you a nice coffee darling. Would you like sugar or shall I dip me finger in it?

Maria finally succumbed and generously revealed her recipe:

“You’ve got to use the right potato. It’s got to be a dry potato. Maris Piper, Marfona. But then again it depends on what the season it is. Potatoes are susceptible to ground conditions. I cook the cabbage and the potato beforehand and put it in the frying pan and I let them cook and cook and cook, and then I smash the potato, don’t mash it, you smash it right, and then you get bits — bigger bits, smaller bits, and then when you’ve cooked it to a certain extent, you add more, then you add more and you mash it in altogether cook it altogether and you get different textures and it…(whispers), it plays on the tongue, the senses.”

She handed me a plate of her Bubble and Squeak served alongside a fried egg, blood sausage, beans, and a bottle of Devon Stile Brown Sauce and watched me eat every last bite. My adaptation at home became a slight bastardization using olive oil, sea salt, cracked black pepper, and a little freshly grated nutmeg. No wonder why I never heard any bubbling. I jipped myself. Go for the lard and you’ll hear it.


Bubble & Squeak

Ave Maria, full of grace, Jamie Oliver is with youI'm at Borough Market at London Bridge on a rainy Spring afternoon. It's practically empty. I've just wolfed down a warm and oozy speck and fiore di latte piadina from Gastronomica. As I crumble up its oddly greaseless parchment wrapping, I notice a brick-red vintage 'caff' stand. Center stage: a Mother Earth type — ruddy cheeks and cropped dark hair. She is merrily cooking away on her hearth. I approach her and introduce myself.



S: You fooled me. I thought this stand may have been one of the originals built in the 18th century.

Maria: I had it built like that because I used to be in Park Street. It was called the Borough Café. We're the ones who put Bubble and Squeak back on the British menu. It's the poor man's lunch which originates from the East End of London really and it was basically the leftovers from Sunday lunch fried up together in a pan. They call it that because of the noise it makes while it cooks. You can hear it bubbling away. So now lots of top menus are doing it. Roast is doing it. Marks and Spencer's is doing it. But I made Bubble & Squeak famous. I had a lot of chefs talk about it. Jamie Oliver mentioned me on his program.

S: So how do you make it?

M: It's potato and cabbage fried up together.

S: That's it?

M: Yeah. But it's the way you do it.

S: And how's that?

M: I'm not telling you.

S: Please? I'll bring you my brownies.

M: No no no, it's a secret. It's the way you do it, it's the way you cook it.

S: And what do you serve it with?

M: Whatever you want. Bacon, cheese and bubble back; egg, bacon, tomato and cheese as a breakfast; bubble sandwiches; bubble and beans.

S: What's bacon, cheese and bubble back?

M: It's bacon and cheese and then bubble and squeak inside a bread bun. I get people jumping into taxis to have it once a week. James McAvoy likes bacon cheese and bubble back.

S: What about Suzanne Pirret?

M: Who's she? Listen, she don't know me, I don't know her.

S: It's me! (I give her a copy of my book).

M: Well is that you, is it? It looks like a story. It's not boring. If it's just recipe after recipe after recipe, it does my head in. Food is like a story. It has a personality. It goes to your senses.

S: I was a ch…

M: I like the story of a poor man. Something that's got a history with it. It's the story behind the recipes. Something simple, like Bubble and Squeak. Where it originates from. Why it originates from there. The fact that it's got a personality. Bubble and Squeak. Rhyming slang.

S: What's tha…

M: Skin and blister, sister. Apple and pears, stairs. That comes from the east end of London. They used to use rhyming slang say, 100 years ago, cause they didn't want the police to know what was going on.

(She pauses.)

I've been through a lot in my life. I've been through hell and back. But it's made me who I am. Nobody special. Nobody extraordinary.

S: You're beautiful.

M: I'm not beautiful. I like your book though.

An older gentleman approaches her counter.

M: I'm going to do you a nice coffee darling. Would you like sugar or shall I dip me finger in it?



Maria finally succumbed and generously revealed her recipe:



"You've got to use the right potato. It's got to be a dry potato. Maris Piper, Marfona. But then again it depends on what the season it is. Potatoes are susceptible to ground conditions. I cook the cabbage and the potato beforehand and put it in the frying pan and I let them cook and cook and cook, and then I smash the potato, don't mash it, you smash it right, and then you get bits — bigger bits, smaller bits, and then when you've cooked it to a certain extent, you add more, then you add more and you mash it in altogether cook it altogether and you get different textures and it…(whispers), it plays on the tongue, the senses."



She handed me a plate of her Bubble and Squeak served alongside a fried egg, blood sausage, beans, and a bottle of Devon Stile Brown Sauce and watched me eat every last bite. My adaptation at home became a slight bastardization using olive oil, sea salt, cracked black pepper, and a little freshly grated nutmeg. No wonder why I never heard any bubbling. I jipped myself. Go for the lard and you'll hear it.





Bubble & Squeak

Ave Maria, full of grace, Jamie Oliver is with youI'm at Borough Market at London Bridge on a rainy Spring afternoon. It's practically empty. I've just wolfed down a warm and oozy speck and fiore di latte piadina from Gastronomica. As I crumble up its oddly greaseless parchment wrapping, I notice a brick-red vintage 'caff' stand. Center stage: a Mother Earth type — ruddy cheeks and cropped dark hair. She is merrily cooking away on her hearth. I approach her and introduce myself.

S: You fooled...

I'm at my local organic greengrocer in Primrose Hill village on Regent's Park Road asking Nigel— one of the owners— a thing or two about vegetables. Nigel knows everything about veg, but he doesn't smile much.
S: I have a bunch of rotting root vegetables on my kitchen floor. What do you suggest?N: Throw them away. If they're rotting darling, chuck 'em. Or give them to the pigs. You got pigs? S:  No.N: You should buy a couple of pigs, right, and feed them all the rotten vegetables. .S: What do...

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I'm racing over to Barrett's Butchers on Englands Lane, Belsize Park. Need to hurry— they close at 5:30 p.m. This ain't Noo Yawk.
S: Hello Handsome! Can you chop three of those lamb legs in the window into shanks and French them for me? God, it's freezing out. You wanna coffee?
Bob the Butcher: At yours, love?
S: Cheeky git.
He snorts. The other butchers laugh heartily. It's all meat, saws, and gristle.
S: How about a whisky— to warm you guys up?
Living in Britain gives one the freedom to...