For me it’s Indian food, but then… what else? Ugh… what a question.
Bah. My mind is a whirling blank right here. I mean, freshly-prepared tiradito right off the boat is like… ffff, like tasting heaven.
I mean, I’ve never had *truly* fresh, truly authentic sushi, but I imagine it would be like tiradito? (note: it’s a form of ceviche, i.e. latino lime-cooked fish slices)
How has no one said French? French for me please
French food is complicated to make compared to other European countries and looks very fancy but it really isn’t better than Italian, German, Spanish, or indeed British food. Don’t get me wrong, I still make the odd quiche, crème brûlée, or sole meunière, but it’s just to change things up when I get bored of making my usual repertoire of dishes. It’s nice but more labour intensive for what it is. OP didn’t say you’d be getting it from a restaurant every day. Your probably going to be making things from scratch a lot. Do you even own a blowtorch for caramelising deserts or a water bath for sous vide?
As a south european person I feel kind of offended by seeing someone put German or even British gastronomy on pair with French, Spanish or Italian cuisine
What exactly do you think British cuisine is out of curiosity? I know none of those countries have cake as good as black forest gateau so don’t even try to claim otherwise.
Fish and chips, meat pie and little more. I don’t think it can compete with the mediterránea cuisine
Ok so british fast food is definitely very heavy on meat pies and chips (although I should point out that there’s a lot of crossover with south Asian fast food and there are other fast food standards like baked potatoes and various sandwiches). And where the confusion lies is that Brits only really eat British fast food or foreign restaurant food because why would you go to a restaurant to eat the same food you make at home? But there’s a whole load of really nice food that just never gets sold in the restaurants. It’s definitely British cuisine. British Christmas food is heavily spiced full of dried fruit and marinated in rum or brandy (rum is better), There are few deserts that can measure up to a well made apple crumble or sticky toffee pudding, and haggis is such a satisfying dish that it’s inspired poetry.
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace As lang ‘s my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill In time o’ need, While thro’ your pores the dews distil Like amber bead.
His knife see Rustic-labour dight, An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like onie ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin, rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive: Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive, Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive, Bethankit hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout, Or olio that wad staw a sow, Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi’ perfect sconner, Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash, As feckless as a wither’d rash, His spindle shank a guid whip-lash, His nieve a nit; Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash, O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his walie nieve a blade, He’ll make it whissle; An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned, Like taps o’ thrissle.
Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care, And dish them out their bill o’ fare, Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware That jaups in luggies; But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer, Gie her a Haggis!
I use French techniques for cooking almost every day