Last night, I had the privilege of attending The Young British Foodies awards ceremony which took place in gallery 9 of Tate Britain. This is where the Romantic paintings live. Nothing feels more magical nor more decadent than sipping a Stellacello Pompelmo Spritz whilst crossing parquet floors under the watchful gaze of Rossetti’s pre-Raphaelite beauties or John Singer Sargent’s grandes dames et petites filles.
Despite the oil-based magnificence that colored the walls, the main attraction really was the food. Flavors and colors from all over the map convened for a few hours of gastronomic bliss. Lebanese, Mauritian, Italian, English, nods to Asia and South America too. Meat that came in cones and cakes that looked like art. I don’t think there was a moment all evening when my husband didn’t have either a slice of beef carpaccio or some sort of charcuterie hanging from his lip. Then again I don’t think there was a moment when I didn’t have a drink in each hand or at least some some sort of sweet. The aptly named Maxwell House Arctic roll from Jesse Dunford Wood and Parlour was one of my favorite treats of the night. Then again, I do have a soft spot for frozen treats.
Which is why I was present last night. My lemon icebox pie piece got me into the food writing finals. I am thrilled and so honored to say that I won. Tracey MacLeod and Yotam Ottolenghi presented the award. They were judges in the category as were Marina O’Laughlin and Fay Maschler. As I said, I’m thrilled.
Thank you to the participants and judges of The YBFs. It was one of the best nights I’ve had in a while and I will never forget it. Hugo of Black Hand Food, I’ll never forget you either. The sleeve of ham you gave me was divine.
Honestly. Last night was the best. This morning I woke up feeling grateful and hungover. When does that happen?
OH. One last thing. Before leaving last night’s party, I took a soy honey caramel from Noisette Bakehouse‘s candy dish. When I later ate it at home, it was no surprise to me that she had won the baking category. This was confectionery perfection. Jacque Genin in Paris has nothing on this woman. That said, I really hope she doesn’t start charging 110 Euros a kilo for her candy otherwise I’ll probably never taste it again.