Pub Grub

One of the things I missed about the UK when I was in Italy (and believe me there weren't many) was the traditional British pub grub. I LOVE mashed potato and pie and gravy and roast potatoes and steamed green veg and stuffing with roast dinners, and did I mention mashed potato? This is something that is yet to go viral in Italy.

That said, I love the Italian cafe culture and all the delicious food on offer, however peculiar, and I was in no hurry to get home for a traditional roast. This was not the view of those in charge, and for week three they had scheduled in a nostalgic banquet made up of the very best dishes from our various countries. I confess I was really looking forward to this. Well I was until I realised that it was the students were supposed to provide the food.

The idea was very simple: everyone has the opportunity to make one of their national dishes (official or otherwise) and after presenting it to the group, we would feast on the international delights available. If I were back home in the UK, this wouldn't even phase me slightly: pop down to Tesco and grab everything a girl could need to make the perfect British banquet.

I was not in the UK. There is no branch of Tesco in Camerino. There isn't even an Aldi.

It wasn't long before loopholes were being exploited and several factions had been formed. If it wasn't all in the name of food we'd have a serious problem: the Portuguese lining up against the Spanish; the Brazilians squaring up to Poland. It was a recipe for disaster (don't you love an inadvertant pun).

As Lynette and I were the sole representatives from the UK, it was only natural that we stick together and pool our resources against the considerable might of the other nations. So early that afternoon we sat down with a notepad and began brainstorming cheap and easy British dishes that we could replicate with nice simple ingredients like eggs and flour and pasta...

This was not a terriby easy task and we eventually decided on a meal of Toad in the Hole with jam scones for pudding. Yum. What then ensued was a panic visit to Skype as we both called our respective families for the age-old tried-and-tested recipes from Grandma.

Banquet T-5 hours.

So with five hours to go we had two recipes and no ingredients, we also needed to produce a poster of our recipes all nicely written our in Italian. It's a shame we couldn't knit some time... While Lynette was getting the fine details of her Toad in the Hole recipe, I pressganged a tutor to help me write out these recipes in Italian.

Banquet T-4.5 hours.

Time for a trip to Eurospin, Italy's half-hearted answer to Tesco: flour, butter, eggs, milk, sausages, jam and a spot of whipped cream, oh and some bananas, and a bit of pasta, maybe some more disposable razors and a new hairbrush...

Banquet T-3 hours.

We arrived back at Lynette's flat to do the cooking. My apartment was full of Portuguese people after a nasty incident with internal affairs causing two rival factions to develop. Lynette, despite there being five nations represented in her flat, had the run of the kitchen and chose to shotgun it for Queen and Country.

Susan, the only representative from Croatia, was lacking in motivation because taking on a venture like that solo was quite an expensive operation; so for one day, and one day only, the UK joined forces with Croatia to create something beautiful. Well, Lynette and I cooked whilst making the poster at the same time, Susan ate some of the spoils - you have to be sure it tastes good: she tried a few just to be really sure.

Banquet T-2 hours.

In the Red Kitchen (to use a Ready, Steady, Cook analogy) I was making the scones. I didn't have cutters and neither did I have self-raising flour, or even baking powder: they turned out to be quite an interesting shape... Still, chop them in two, coat them with jam and cream, and no-one knows any different.

Banquet T-1 hour.

In the Green Kitchen Lynette was having some trouble with her recipe. It transpired, after a long time, that the quantities had been wrong. We'd sort of guessed and added more bits as we saw fit, but it wasn't going to be quite worthy of Aunt Bessie.

Banquet T-30 minutes.

With half an hour to go, we were putting the finishing touches to the poster and arranging our goodies in such a way to earn a few more points for presentation. Speaking of presentation, we also had to present our dishes to the group. I'm normally a confident and outgoing person, but I had never done public speaking in a foreign language and I wasn't looking forward to it. Lynette and I prepared a little of what we were going to say.

Banquet T-10 minutes.

We arrived at the banquet venue, a courtyard at the university, next door to my flat. We put our poster up and added our plates to the table. It wasn't long before everyone else joined us with plates of steaming food and the principal called proceedings to order.

Each nation (or faction of each nation) presented their dishes. In the UK the Health and Safety wombles would have a breakdown - food prepared by the unwashed in greasy kitchens that wouldn't know a hygiene certificate if it swept up all the discarded food on the floor and put all the washed dishes back in the cupboards. But we're in Italy and things like that don't matter - no-one got food poisoning so what's the problem!?

It was soon our turn to do the presentation and I think the subtle irony of tea and scones and the literal translation of Toad in the Hole was a little lost on our audience, but they seemed to enjoy the results nonetheless. I saw a Spanish woman manhandling our toad in the Hole so she could get a piece of that batter-and-frankfurter combination for herself; despite being a pudding, all the scones had gone by the time I'd made a swoop of the rest of the table; and the only things we'd be taking home it turned out, would be the dishes.

So all in all it was a success. We didn't win, but then again it was more about the taking part. In this particular competition being outdone by your rivals only means you get a nicer dinner and that's a compromise I'm willing to get on board with.

The banquet soon became a party (started by Poker Face before launching into a Reggaeton mash-up) and I retired early - just as the limbo was getting started...