Food Files: Charlie

I clocked Charlie's sporty silhouette en route to a guerrilla sports day on London Fields. Leap-frog relays, frisbee-discus, thumb-wrestling.... how does this kind of athlete maintain peak condition?

By the time I caught up with him, Charlie was already pretty focused on his first event - the polystyrene cup put. Frequently he would place his fingertips to his temples then throw them forwards as if creating his own telekinetic forcefield. Twice, without warning, he exploded into star-jumps that sent tremors down the pavement and onto the Fields – a statement of his intent.

It didn't take much to get his head out of the game however. Charlie it emerged, is a cook. He works for Sotheby's restaurant and will also be donning his toque at the Secret Garden Party festival.

Soon we were talking about whether showpiece restaurant fare could possibly be sustainable. Doesn't it promote meat, meat and more meat?

“To be honest, I could live without meat. I could go veggie like that, no problem...”

“Really?”

“But not fish. Absolutely not fish.”

“So... what's your favourite fish?”

“Skate”

“Oh yeah – I used to love skate. It's like you're eating a creature from another planet. That weird, cartilaginous wing... so how do you cook it?”

“With beurre noisette...”

“Good call.”

“... and fresh herbs."

"Oh baby..."

"And capers. Proper ones.”

“Salted, right? Not the bloated miseries that you dredge from brine.”

“Fucking right. Salted, mate. Always salted.”

I was getting too close to the Food File. So, like a bastard, I pointed out that skate is on the MSC's 'Fish to Avoid' list – boom! It was a real suckerpunch and the budding chef never saw it coming. How do you like me now, Ringo? He got a little defensive.

“Well we always try and serve sustainable fish where I cook.”
“So.... mackerel and pollack?”

“Colin.”

“Eh?”

“It's called Colin now.”

“What is?”

“Pollack. It was the worst branded fish in the ocean. Pollack. Sounds like a cross between pillock and bollock.”

“So they wanted to make it sound sexier...”

“Right.”

“So they called it Colin.”

“Errr... yeah.”