It's been ten long years now, and I've just about had enough. In the beginning, it was easy enough - the insults simply glanced off me. "You British?" asked the florid Floridian. I was sitting in a Miami diner. My new "friend" was in the next-door booth. "Um, yes," I stuttered back, staring deep into my key lime pie, willing him to disappear. "Well, I bet you've never seen food this fine before. You know, I've heard about British food." His vast frame shuddered momentarily. "All that grey mincemeat and Marmite and smelly cabbage. What's it like having the worst food in the world?" My tone became apologetic. "Well, um, you know there are some great British things, like roast beef and, um..." "...and soggy dick, your famous dessert!" he roared. I managed to muster a smile and went back to my pudding feeling mildly traitorous.
Had I encountered this antagonistic individual these days, my response would have been rather less polite. But wherever I travel, the song remains the same. From dusty Vientiane bars to dark Galician dives, from Palermo fish markets to Japanese karaoke bars, I find this ridiculous and outdated stereotype of British food very much alive. "Bland and stodgy," says a Laotian. "Overcooked and inedible" adds the Spaniard. "You care more about bowler hats and saying 'thank you' than you do about eating well..." are the final, almost admiring words from the Tokyo salaryman. And these were from people who had actually been to Britain. That said, their sole culinary memory of the country was generally gleaned either from the all-you-can-eat buffet at some wretched pizza restaurant or the Big Breakfast at a motorway service station - hardly the most enlightening of experiences.
But enough is enough - over the past 25 years, British food has undergone a transformation that has taken us from uncaring also-rans to fledgling gastronomes. It's certainly true that traditional British food is not particularly complicated, exotic or suffused with spices. But that's like criticising Thai food for its lack of marmalade steamed puddings. All food is a product of climate, history and geography and in the British Isles, the three combine to delectable effect. The temperate climate provides lush grasses for magnificent livestock and a wealth of dairy products, as well as apples, plums, raspberries, strawberries, asparagus and hops. Our history not only saw the introduction of all manner of plants and spices, but it acquired the culinary footprint of invading Romans, Saxons, Angles and Normans. And our empire brought in wave after wave of immigrants, from India, Pakistan and the Caribbean, which would change our idea of "British" food forever, and for the better too. Chicken tikka massala is now as British as fish and chips.
Geography means we have the fens, game-stuffed moorland, meadows, lochs, burns, lakes, rivers and seas to ensure such a varied wild harvest. No lobster is sweeter than the Scottish (well, maybe the Cornish version), no crab fatter or more succulent than the Cromer. The Colchester native oyster is the finest in the world, perhaps only matched by its Whitstable relative. And Welsh salt-marsh lamb has to be eaten to be believed (although the Herdwick is pretty fantastic, too). The days when British food was a byword for mediocrity and edible ennui are over. It's time to forget soggy vegetables, turgid pies and all the rest of those overcooked clichés.
British food wasn't born bad. It didn't enter this world fully formed and wretched, with God decreeing that France got aligot and bouillabaisse while we got Angel Delight and cow-heel pie. Our decline was slow and painful. And events have conspired, over the past 200 years, to turn British food from being the pride of Europe to a fallen idol. But it wasn't always so: around the time of the Norman invasion, British food (well, French really at this stage) was refined and sophisticated, reflecting the breadth and power of the Norman Empire (although admittedly, the lot of the ordinary man was not so delectable... pottage and rough bread were the order of the day). The Tudor court was equally lavish, devouring all manner of swan, heron and lamprey. Our food slowly moved away from the French in the following centuries and developed its own unique style of good produce, such as soups, stews, roasts and puddings, that was treated simply.
