Garlic & Parsley Butter French Fries

If there's one thing I like more than homemade french fries, it's homemade french fries tossed in molten butter spiked with garlic and parsley. 

That is something I like very, very much.

A superb side dish, a decadent starter or just a terribly naughty movie snack, my Garlic & Parsley Butter French Fries are one of the most lusted after treats in my household. It's a pretty good job they only take 30 minutes to knock up, eh?

To make a portion enough for two very greedy people, you'll need:

8 large Charlotte Potatoes

500ml good quality rapeseed oil (I like Farringtons Mellow Yellow)

A big handful of fresh parsley

Four large garlic cloves

A squeeze of lemon

250g salted butter

Sprinkle of salt

Kitchen paper

Get started by chopping your potatoes into long, thin matchsticks. You want to remove as much moisture as possible to get them good 'n' crispy, so give them a pat on the back with some kitchen paper as you go. The drier they are, the better.

Glug your oil into a large saucepan and turn the heat up high.

After a few minutes drop in a fry. If it sizzles right away, you're good to go.

Carefully pour in the rest of your potatoes and turn the heat down a couple of notches. I usually do mine in two batches for optimum crispiness.

Whilst your fries are frying, make your garlic butter coating. Chop your parsley. 

Melt the butter in a pan over a medium heat and crush in your garlic.

Season with salt and pepper and chuck in the chopped parsley, saving a few pinches for later. Let it bubble away for a few minutes before turning the heat down to low.

Whilst that's simmering away, give your chips a gentle shake. Try to resist stirring the pot whilst they're cooking, these badboys can look after themselves just fine.

Each batch should take no longer than 10 minutes, so when the first lot is done, rest your fries on some kitchen paper and cover to keep toasty.

When both batches are ready, throw them in a deep bowl and pour over your butter sauce. Toss them around so that each fry is coated in garlic and parsley crumbs.

Quickly pour everything out onto a tray lined with kitchen paper to drain.

And squeeze over a chunk of lemon, the remaining parsley and top with rock salt.

Bucket up et voila! Some of the best french fries known to mankind made simple. 

Speaking of simple, I leave you with this intelligent riddle.

Q. What do you say to an angry potato?

A. Anything, just butter him up!

Feeding Time At The Gate

When I've had a heavy night, the morning after means one thing and one thing only. Calories. And lots of 'em.

Nothing quite cleanses a wine-headache like a sunny day spent with the girls in a pub garden. But The Gate in Chorleywood isn't just any old pub garden. It's my favourite pub garden.

I first stumbled upon The Gate on one hazy, hungover morning on the hunt for said calories. To my pleasure, I found a beautifully simple patio filled with pretty candles, rickety chairs and tables, mismatching cutlery and most importantly, delicious food.

As you can see, none of us were feeling particularly perky. The waiter flung a few delicately laid out menus our way and we got searching. I went for the fresh orange and mango juice to get things goin'.

This was the only house red I would be sampling during this particular lunch time...

The menu offers a fair amount of choice, all of the usual pub garden trimmings, pastas, meat and potatoes, salads and posh sarnies.
Being horrendously wheat intolerant, I had to rule out the delicious, thin crust pizzas in favour of a crispy duck salad with shredded cucumber, a hoisin glaze and a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds.

I can't say I was too put out.

I didn't stop there though, my friend.

These little babies were the main event. Homefried chunky chips dripping in a gooey, rich garlic mayo with just the right amount of ooomph to it. Served on the side of my salad, I didn't even feel naughty. I'd already eaten them up before I had the chance to, anyway.

The girls enjoyed taunting me with their pizzas, which were all tomotoey and chickeney and jalapenoey, just as any pizza worth it's crust should be.
Obviously my taste buds over ruled my common sense (and my stomach) and I treated myself to a sliver of Justine's, just to taste. The base is super thin and crunchy, so although I wouldn't recommend the wheat-free among us to order a pizza when cravings become too much, if you're gonna cave, cave at The Gate. It's almost worth the couple of stomach-spasm filled hours. Almost.

No need to book a table if you're popping in for a Saturday lunchtime seeing to, although they do get pretty busy on Sunday afternoons. To check out the menu or book online, visit the website.

So who wants to take me dancing on Friday night, so I can come back here on Saturday afternoon?