Food for thought

I have a shocking confession to make. I have no idea how to cook leeks.

Now, I apologise if you were expecting a tale of infidelity or war crimes, but for someone who was born and raised in Wales I feel its something I really should know. It should be in my blood shouldn't it? Or at the very least taught at a pre-school level. Forcibly. Like national service.

The thing is, when it comes to cooking I don't really know what I'm doing at all, but somehow it always works out ok. I don't know how, but I tend to kind of take a leap of faith and just go for it. So far, its stood me in good stead.

The market for celebrity chefs is so saturated at the moment, but I think my cooking methods are unique, and I could be in with a shout to be the next Gordon Ramsay, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall or the fat one with the big tongue. With that in mind, here's my recipe for 'Leeks-a-la-Tim';

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INGREDIENTS:

Leeks
Two other vegetables - any will do. Onions or something. You know the sort.
Garlic - if you've got it. Otherwise don't worry.
Stock cube - if you can find one in the cupboard.
Oil.
Something to eat it with, you know, just to bulk it up a bit. Rice or whatever.

METHOD:

Put oil in a big pan. Heat it up.

If you've got garlic then stick it in, otherwise don't worry. Chop up the leeks and two other vegetables in to bits. Stick it in the pan. Stir the vegetables because you feel you should.

Put the rice or whatever on. Fail miserably to judge exactly how much water you really need. Prepare to be disappointed with how the rice or whatever turns out.

Crumble a stock cube over the vegetables and leeks. That'll make it taste alright surely?

After 'a bit', take the veg off the heat. Drain the rice or whatever. Swear because its all stuck together again and looks shit. Put the random veg and leeks in with the rice and stir it round until its all mixed together and almost looks edible.

Add a 'shitload' of salt and pepper to taste.

Perfect with white wine, a fruity Belgian beer or Smile's own brand orange squash.

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All I need now is a gimmick. Ramsay's got the swearing, Fearnley-Whittingstall has got the whole rustic thing going on, and Oliver has that whole 'fat tongued lisping prick who just WON'T GO AWAY' feel to him. Any suggestions are most welcome. I will warn you though, I don't wear hats very well so I'd rather they weren't involved in any way.



PS - I've just read this post through before publishing it and its achingly clear that I'm in desperate need of a good woman...