Cherries for a Jubilee

Will the denizens at chez Fractured Amy be waking up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to huzzah Wills and Kate as they sashay down the aisle?

We will not.

Fine people though the Royals undoubtedly are, and with all due credit to bunting and souvenir-mug manufacturers here and abroad, we will be boycotting the nuptials. I am, as has been recorded elsewhere, a committed 'small arr' republican and have been so ever since a gross oversight resulted in my failing to receive an invitation to the Queen's Garden Party at Holyrood Palace in 1991. Sir, confident that his humanitarian and professional accomplishments are deserving of a knighthood (or an OBE at least) was passed over for the honours list again last year and is showing his displeasure by sleeping until 7:00. 

As a result, the happy couple will just have to get on as best they can without us.

This is not to say I haven't been following the Balmoral Ballyhoo with interest and amusement. My favorite nugget of trivia so far concerns, of course, the food to be served at the reception. My sources tell me that for the first time since the Conquest, there will be no formal sit-down lunch for wedding guests after the ceremony. Several reasons for this striking breach of protocol have been cited, chief among them the tackiness of pulling out all the stops when Britain is in the middle of its fiercest austerity campaign since the War. Can't have the aristos licking caviar off gold plates while the peasants are queuing for National Health beds, now, can we? There would be outrage, or at least, a certain tsk-tsking among the hoi polloi.

Another stated reason for making the hundreds of guests mill about, canapes clutched in paper serviettes, was the shortage of tables and chairs at Buck House (or Windsor Castle - I can't remember where the shindig is supposed to take place). Lack of chairs? Really? I guess they don't have party rental places over there in Blighty - or access to card and poker tables such as normal people use when suddenly they find themselves with too many mouths to feed.

A number of solutions to these vexing problems were apparently mooted by the civil servants and flunkies in charge of such events. My favorite (ultimately rejected) plan was a buffet lunch. Now I think this would have made a fabulous statement, which is probably why the idea was discarded. It was considered that the Queen of Greece, for example, might object to having to stand in line for luke-warm offerings in chafing dishes - and that it would be more fitting to have nibbles brought round by liveried footmen. While I think standing in a buffet line would probably do the Queen of Greece nothing but good (I'm convinced the current Middle Eastern situation would not be nearly as dire as it is if all those despots had ever experienced a salad bar first hand), I suppose I can see the point. Buffets are a bit sloppy and all the related shenanigans under heat lamps can ruin one's coiffure and carefully-composed decolletage.

Still, it's quite fun to imagine the King of Denmark being ordered to 'Scoop from the bottom, please!'

But, alas no, it will be picky-bits and champagne all around: the usual sausage rolls, vol au vents, and smoked salmon will probably be on offer, with maybe the odd mini-pizza and samosa thrown in for the vegetarians.

It's too bad they didn't ask me to do the catering because I have a new favorite finger food that I think would please just about everybody: Grilled Haloumi with Cherry and Pistachio Chutney. It's gluten-free, vegetarian (though not vegan - you can't have everything in this sadly imperfect world); sophisticated; and very delicious. It's internationally-inspired but reminiscent of that old John Bull standby, cheese and pickles, centerpiece of a Ploughman's Lunch. It can be eaten sans cutlery, provided you don't put on so much of the glistening gem-like condiment that it spills off the sides of its cheesy trencher.

If you add a few greens, you have a salad course or light lunch fit for a queen.

Just pray she doesn't spill it down her decolletage.

Cherry and Pistachio Chutney

Grilling haloumi is child's play (I brush mine with a bit of olive oil and sprinkle it with some black pepper as soon as its done) but here is the recipe for the chutney. It's awesome with any sort of cheese or game and tarts up plain chicken with flair. Warmed a little, it makes a good dressing for fresh greens. The recipe was adapted from one in the big Ball book of home preserving.

• Prepare a spice bag with 2 three-inch cinnamon sticks and five teaspoons of whole allspice. Pop this into a large preserving pan with five pounds of frozen cherries (I cut mine in half); 2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, seeded and chopped; one chopped sweet onion; one cup apple cider vinegar; and one-half teaspoon of salt.
• Bring to a boil and cook for about 20 minutes, or until much of the moisture has evaporated. Stir frequently!
• Add one and one-quarter cups of brown sugar and cook until it's good and thick and your wooden spoon makes a channel when you scrape it along the bottom of the pan.
• Add one and one-half cups of raisins (I use organic Thompson's) and a cup of unsalted pistachios. Give it a good stir and you're done.

You can do the ten-minute processing thing if you like, especially if you're planning ahead for a summer wedding. You'll get about 48 ounces of pure tart deliciousness.

Next up: I make a somewhat delayed foray into Top Chef Masters World and consider the duelling imperatives of artisanal cheese consumption and weight loss.