Let’s hear it for New York – London, Belfast and …..

Looking back through old blogs, and reflecting upon the thousands of words scribbled here, I’ve begun to realise something. There are two recurrent themes in my writing: food and travel. These, one could argue, are your most basic human imperatives. I might complain about it, but I’ve always felt the need to go exploring, to discover new worlds – brave or otherwise.This urge gives my life a strange, often frustrating propulsion: I get twitchy if I stay in the same place for too long, yet I get homesick when I’ve been away for too long. And I’m away from home a lot.

Of course, the reason that I find myself in a state of perpetual motion is because of food and kitchen appliances. If I had never chosen the profession in which I am now ensconced, I sorely doubt that I would have trotted as much of the globe as I have. People all over the world need food and kitchen appliances, and in most instances they like their food to be tasty and not too much hassle to prepare. It’s that need which has led to me demonstrating cooking techniques from Land’s End to John O’ Groats, and from The Great Wall Of China to Toronto’s CN Tower.

Hot And Cold

Determined to clock up more air miles than Richard Branson, I recently embarked on yet another whistle stop journey. This time it was Toronto for the Canadian launch of the AGA PRO+. I also had to do some promotional work for AGA MARVEL; the North American side of AGA, Marvel being refrigeration and AGA being cooking. All I could hear in my head was Katy Perry singing, “You’re hot and you’re cold…”. I’m proud to say that I have been chosen to be the AGA Brand Ambassador for North America, so it falls upon me to fly all over the world speaking about their products. It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it.

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

A constant thorn in my side is my inability to speak French. Or at least speak it correctly. This is partly due to the fact that the delicate poetry of the language and the Northern Irish accent do not make for good bedfellows. You can imagine my embarrassment when, during another intolerable school lesson, I opened my mouth to hear, “Bonjurr, juh muh-pell James” clunking out. It was as if someone else was speaking. But there was not. It was me, rolling the words around my mouth like acid-flavoured gobstoppers.

Cooking in Living History

As I type this, I am on a work trip to France, where I am trying my best to disguise the fact that, when it comes to speaking the language, I am about as useful as a glass trampoline. Last night, I found myself positively ravenous, and ended up in a quaint back street restaurant. Not wanting to appear to be an idiotic British tourist, I amazed myself by confidently ordering a duck dish. The most amazing thing was that a deliciously cooked portion of duck arrived on my plate – the waiter had understood my mangled voyeelles françaises, after all.

But that’s by the by. I could be anywhere as I type this. I was in Germany two days ago, but now I am in France. I should be outside, exploring the web of streets, meeting the people and soaking up the culture (along with the wine), but instead I’m in my hotel room, typing away on my computer.

Time And Travel (Again)

Where does the time go? My life seems to be speeding up at an alarming rate, as if I am sitting in a car with no brakes hurtling down the side of Mount Everest. It seems that I sat down to have a cup of tea since a biscuit and it’s a month since Christmas. I blinked and we’re already more than halfway through January. I coughed and it was a new decade. By this rate, I’ll go to the shops for some groceries, return home and it’ll be time to pick up my pension.