Happy new year!

Happy new year to all readers and visitors, and may 2010 bring you every food delight that you wish for...my new year kicked off in traditional style with a lovely visit to best mate J in the depths of a snowy Buckinghamshire countryside. Our new year's eve feast began with a starter of smoked scallops and chirizo on  rye-coriander toast: but we'd scoffed it before I had a chance to get the camera out. Next up, and in time to be photoed, was a fennel risotto with parmesan shavings. A good winter warmer. And to finish, fresh pineapple roasted in a spiced butterscotch sauce (a Denis Cotter recipe). I didn't have time to make a coconut ice cream to go with it, but J whipped down to the corner shop and grabbed some fine vanilla ice to complement the hot fruit.

While we were polishing that off, Daisy and Freida were lounging on the sofa in their basket, keeping snug.

My christmas began with a visit to Ely - the farmers market was open on the day before Christmas Eve so I couldn't resist a return. Hard to believe that this was the first snowfall of the big freeze.

The cathedral was all set for the festive season with a fabulous tree.

And just as I'd hoped, there at the market was the lovely Norfolk potter who has furnished me with some great dishes on my last visit. I've lost her card, and don't want to risk getting her name wrong, so full details will have to wait til I find which book her card is marking.

I'd hoped she'd be there so that I could buy J's smaller present - and I got a lovely pottery collander for myself.

J's big present to me was a beautiful tagine: it now has pride of place in my kitchen and I'm planning some yummy Morracan stuff to cook in the coming months. But at the moment I'm all of a slather because I've been asked by work to go to Washington DC for a couple of days to help out on some training. America! I've never been before, and ice permitting, I fly out tomorrow afternoon. I hope to visit the Lincoln Memorial, the cafe at the Native American museum, get to grips with American eggs and hook up with Eddie from Obama Fooderama. Meanwhile: keep warm!

Ely and eels

I'd planned to go to Hereford today, but in the end couldn't face negotiating a half-shut down Victoria Line. So I took the line of least resistance and had a day trip to Ely, island of eels. Walking up from the station through a park, you catch sight of the magnificent cathedral with its pepper-pot towers and wonderful octagon.

The first holy site here was the monastery founded by St Etheldreda. After an unhappy second marriage, she persuaded her husband to let her leave to go and do good deeds, but he changed his mind and tried to nab her back. She escaped and ended up here in 673. Ely seems to have been invaded by just about everyone - Romans, Normans, Vikings, Saxons...so the cathedral has seen good days and bad. Bits of it have collapsed and after the reformation, it had a bishop who delighted in knocking chunks out of it. But the Victorians started restoring it and now it's a most wonderful building inside and out.

My first stop though was at the busy farmers market. There's a great range of food and plant stalls, including one from Belleau Bridge Trout Farm and Smokery where I was thrilled to find smoked eel.

Eels were the staple food here for centuries, and the city is named for the fishy treat. There's only one professional eel catcher left now, but you can follow the city's eel trail which traces the history of the connection. Sad to say, the smoked eel swam its last in the Netherlands, but it's smoked in Lincolnshire. I sampled the smoked trout pate: delicious, so I'll have a pot of that. Further along, I bought a loaf of dark rye with caraway seeds to go with the eel, and a pot of fenland lime jelly - I love the incongruity of the name. But it has a great limey depth of flavour. As the day was hot, and I wouldn't be home for a few hours, I passed by the venison stall. The farmers' market then morphs into a great general market, selling second hand books, bric a brac, clothes and toys.

I was magnetically drawn to the pottery stall run by Felicity Hoyle, who works in Norfolk.

I find hand-thrown pottery hard to resist, and bought a pouring bowl and gratin dish.

Heading back to the cathedral, I popped into a wood turning exhibition. My favourite piece was this carving of St Mark as a lion.

Then it was into the cathedral. Although my dad was a Church of England priest, I've never been religious. But I've grown up in the Anglican choral tradition, and was lucky enough to be in a brilliant school choir that sang in cathedrals all over the country, so I have an abiding love of the culture and architecture of the church. On this visit, my highlight was the astonishing Prior's Door, built and carved in the 12th century.

The workmanship is exquisite, and all down to lintels there are tiny figures of humans and animals. The saddest thing is a plaque set in a wall commemorating a much loved 13-year-old son, kicked to death by a horse in the 18th century. There's an excellent guide to the cathedral and its history here.
Time to head for home with my goodies and contemplate a fishy supper.