Not even apple day!

It's ages since I reviewed a product. But I've been moved to action by Cawston Press and their apple and ginger juice.

It's delicious, refreshing and feels as if it's doing all kinds of good!

Go on - give it a try (as Neil Hannon would say).

Cous cous I said so

Since I got back from Morocco, the question I've been asked most is "how was the food?" People ask it in an envious, anticipatory way as if I'm going to tell them tales of world-class cuisine. I'd expect such hushed reverence if I said I'd returned from, say, Paris or rural Italy. But Morocco?

Many of my holidays are based around food experiences: you've probably noticed by now I'm quite partial to food! But when I booked the trip to Morocco I wasn't expecting world-beating cuisine. It turns out I was astute in my expectations.

Ok - Moroccan cuisine has the potential to be fantastic. The country grows fantastic fresh produce and makes use of a wonderful array of spices. There's a few well-known national dishes - tagine, cous cous, pastille, kefta, harira - and they're often cooked very well indeed. But ... it's all a bit....well, samey.

We travelled quite extensively around the country, from the west coast across to the Sahara in the east, across the Atlas and back over to the southern west coast. We experienced busy modern towns, old medinas, small villages, tiny outposts and touristy ports. We ate in fancy restaurants, family-run riads, remote service stations, small cafes full of locals, tourist traps and mock-European places. And my overriding food memory of the country can be summed up in one word: tagine.

There's a few exceptions. The 'Berber pizza' is worth a try, and reminded me of a lamb pasty. Some of the traditional Moroccan salads presented as appetisers in all the typical riad restaurants are delicious. The seafood in places like Essaouira makes a real change and is perfectly cooked. But these things stick in my mind primarily because they're exceptions. Most lunchtimes, wherever we'd just arrived, the menu choices were tagine, cous cous or kefta. Always in the same order, too - "tagine, cous cous, kefta" - like a menu mantra!

I did have one outstanding tagine: spiced chicken pieces with onion and tomato topped with a fried egg. It made a change from the standard chicken and lemon, lamb or meatball ones. Of course, I can't for the life of me remember the name of it! Anyone?

During our stay we found a leaflet listing the top restaurants in Morocco. I don't know who did the choosing! We were fortunate enough to visit three of them during our stay. One was completely overrated, one was pretty good and one - Le Patio in Essaouira - was outstanding. I ate fish with an olive cream followed by a delicious apple tart. The food was a fusion of traditional Moroccan and European; it still made use of excellent local ingredients but broke away from the menu-mantra. I feel a bit sad that my favourite food experiences in the country were the non-authentic ones, but that's the way it was.

Before I went, I asked someone on Twitter how he'd enjoyed the same tour a few years ago. He said it was excellent but "there's only so many tagines you can eat". My sentiments precisely.

Chilled out Spanish style

It's a while since I've been to Spain and I'm suffering from withdrawal symptoms. I can barely hear a flamenco guitar without developing the shakes and starting to salivate.

There's one dish in particular I've had a craving for lately: salmorejo, a thick tomato soup-like sauce similar to gazpacho. I've never made it before but a quick search online gave me all the information I needed to fill the gaps in my knowledge.

The first thing I did was to tear a slice of stale bread into small pieces. I soaked it in one dessert spoon of white wine vinegar, a splash of water and a drizzle of olive oil. In the meantime I hard-boiled two eggs and cooked some asparagus (two minutes in a centimetre of boiling water with the saucepan lid on).

The only laborious bit is peeling tomatoes, a messy and tedious task. Next time I'm going to try with the skins on, and I'll let you know if it made a difference. Anyway, I chopped the peeled tomatoes, along with two small shallots.

Then comes the fun bit: blend the tomatoes, shallots and bread together with a little bit more olive oil, some black pepper and some paprika. A big electric blender would be ideal for this, so that you can drizzle in the extra oil and some water, if necessary, while it's going. I've only got a hand blender and a mixing bowl, however, so I got splattered quite a bit. My kitchen looked like a scene from a slasher flick by the time I'd finished.

After a few moments I wiped the tomato mush from my eyes and checked the consistency. You're looking for something like a very thick but smooth soup. Serve it in a shallow dish with the asparagus placed in the centre. For the final touches I grated the hard-boiled eggs over the top and added a few flakes of Serrano ham.

You absolutely have to serve it with crusty bread (a bit on the stale side if you want the authentic Spanish experience...) and a Spanish rose wine.