LYNDA LA PLANTE: 'My pie fell into my publisher's handbag'
My first food memory is of my granny Gertie, six foot tall with a big hook nose, taking me to the Adelphi Hotel in Liverpool. This was a big thing indeed, and the first time I’d ever seen waiters. She ordered roast chicken, and when it arrived she summoned the waiter. ‘This is not chicken, it’s rabbit,’ she cried. The waiter politely disagreed. ‘I am fully aware of the difference between a two-legged creature and a four-legged one,’ she replied. ‘And this one has four legs.’ I cannot tell you how embarrassed I was.
Food at school was better than food at home, although my mother was good at roasts and made an amazing apple pie. I was so hungry that I’d eat everything, especially steak and kidney pies. But we were served so much currant cake and Battenburg, both of which I hated, that I still cannot eat cake in any form at all.
I love cooking roasts. Everyone is impressed with my ability to get it ready, all at the same time. The organisation and timing have to be superlative. Preparation, on the other hand, is something I loathe.
The first dish I learned to cook was spaghetti bolognese, while a student at Rada. I was taught to make it by the wonderful actress Sara Kestelman. I’d never even heard of pasta before. Norman Rodway, another great actor, was there, and I remember him saying, ‘Splosh in a lot more wine.’ I make an exceedingly good bolognese with a lot of very good wine. Never use cheap wine, as you can taste it.
I’m allergic to red and green peppers. And I can’t eat sushi. I balk at the idea of that sliver of fish.
Once, on a trip to India, I’d had it with eating curry. We were in some big restaurant with sloping lawns and peacocks, and so I asked for spaghetti carbonara. I was poisoned by it. I’ve never been so ill and had to be carried out. Once you’ve been struck by food poisoning, you become paranoid about food. And exceedingly picky.
I’m one of those people in restaurants who can’t decide what to choose. I listen to what everybody else is having, then usually order fish and chips.
The Groucho Club, London, where Lynda had an embarrassing encounter with a steak and kidney pie
I remember once having lunch at The Groucho Club in Soho with a stern book editor. I ordered steak and kidney pie and wasn’t sure whether to tip it onto my plate or eat it from the dish. I saw someone cut through the crust, then flip it on their plate, so I did, too. At that point, the editor leaned forward and said, ‘Don’t look, but sitting to your right is a very important publisher.’ She was only about three feet away. Now I’m cutting the crust and I give it a dig, then flip it. And it ended up in this publisher’s bag. I said nothing and carried on eating. As she got up to go, my editor started to introduce us. At which point, the publisher saw the pie crust and screamed, ‘Someone’s tipped their lunch into my bag!’ I had to sit there as this poor waitress was told off. It was so embarrassing.
Her go-to meal is a roast dinner
My comfort food is a BLT sandwich, which I make with good crisp smoked streaky bacon, sliced tomatoes, lettuce and mayonnaise.
I always have lots of fruit and vegetables in my fridge. Recently, someone came around to check it. He opened the door and said, ‘This is one of the cleanest fridges I’ve ever seen.’ I was delighted.
I love my big chest freezer. It could fit a body, and is filled with the best chicken and steaks from Costco. I buy in bulk and freeze it all.
When writing, I always stop for lunch. A school bell rings and my housekeeper makes something simple: fish mostly, with sauces.
My last supper would be roast chicken with crisp potatoes, vegetables and gravy. Gravy is important. Then fresh raspberries for dessert. I’d be happy with that.
Lynda La Plante’s latest novel, The Scene Of The Crime, is published by Zaffre, £22. To order a copy for £19.80 until 17 August, go to mailshop.co.uk/booksor call 020 3176 2937. Free UK delivery on orders over £25.
