The Good Life
Have stomach, will travel
Pamela Vandyke Price
Those who, like the ungastronomic Napoleon's armies, march on their stomachs, are flexing their digestions preparatory to the challenge of alien comestibles. Some, I am sure, sincerely wish that they could park their innards in an intestinal tract bank safely behind the white cliffs, and , launch into their holiday adventures at Chaise Percee sous Poubelle powered by nothing more alien than a vitamin pill at regular intervals. They will have to waste a lot of time searching out the 'teacups as mama made them 'and ' Steek and pam frat ' to say nothing of the cost of doing their teeth in Evian.
The shock troops of the flyidg stomach have been progressively upping their daily garlic intake, toughening their tastebuds with London tap water and the homecrafted alcoholic beverages .run up by their friends with do-ityourself brewing, wine-making and, for all I know, distilling kits. They will compel peasantry of the space age to rout out granma mia to cook them spaghetti alla vendetta instead of the flown-in prefrozen Heinzibeanzi sul' toast, beloved of the package tours. Museum, medieval castle, Alp, Pyrenee and Bay of Naples must wait while • they. bargain for pot, crock or couscous platter and they will bring a blench to the most turbotlike maitre d'hotel by insisting on coarse food and rough wine in the Hotel Splendido Lussurioso. (Never shall I forget the blenching in one of the Algarve's most trans atlantically-atmospheric hotels when I asked for raw onions in the salad).
A more moderate attitude, plus — dare I suggest it? — some advance homework on the gastronomy of wherever you are going, can enable the traveller to learn the words for local specialities and know what they are, in case the cautious locals are reluctant to offer these to the milords du biftek. It is astonishing to me that people can fling themselves far without the slightest knowledge as to whether they are going to be able to eat the food, and half a page in an out-of-date guidebook is not going to be of much avail when you are weighing up your allergy to shellfish against your dislike of rabbit. (I have not yet mastered the Serbo-Croat for " Mussels turn me inside out/raW peppers give me a sensation of having swallowed a scorpion/ Curry simply will not stay inside my mouth, no matter how mild,' but I bet! could act these sentences at need). No necessity for a diet of omelettes either — there will be plenty of things that all but those who sally forth set on finding cause for complaint can eat and enjoy. Nowadays the cooking of so many countries is written about that an hour's, browse in bookshop or library will save a multitude of pills and potions, and many of these books are available in paperbacks too.
A newish one for which I have much praise is Spanish Cooking at Home and on Holiday, by Maite Manj6n and Catherine O'Brien (Pan, 35p). One of the authors was born in Madrid and is now married to Jan Read (who contributed the admirable, accurate and personal notes on wine — unlike many cookbook compilers who merely paraphrase the work of someone else who may not have been right in the first place), The other author has worked and lived in Majorca and the recipes from this island are not, as far as I know, available in any other cookery book. In addition to recipes, there are sections on shopping, specialised vocabularies, cooking vessels and descriptions of many of the types of ham and sausage, plus advice on adapting recipes for use in Britain. Some of my friends among the sherry shippers are intimidatinglY good cooks — I can only say that this excellent little book has augmented my knowledge of what they have taught me.
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