Sat in a traffic jam on the M6, I heard Wagamama’s advert for their new Veganuary menu countless times. Yet despite the repetition, I was hooked on their description of ‘f-ish and chips’. This ‘f-ish’ is in fact a mix of soy, rice and pea protein, which Wagamama’s hope will ‘inspire anyone’s tastebuds to give plants a go’. The encouragement of this sustainable swap is interesting, replicating the flaky texture, appearance and even name of the meat, yet in fact offering a much more planet-friendly alternative. 
 
This design of labelling meat-alternatives with variations of the original meat name, such as Chik’n, could be seen as confusing. However, this allows for people to begin to transition into veganism more easily, finding replacement items of food that they know how to cook. The multitude of options - from vegan burgers which ‘bleed’ to vegan steaks which can be cooked to a perfect medium-rare - is perhaps not as innocuous as it seems. The EU suggesting that it might ban names such as ‘burger’ and ‘sausage’ for vegan and vegetarian products raised mass controversy, with accusations that they are attempting to restrict the market for vegan products. I would argue that the desire to name their products after the food which they are trying to distance themselves from is interesting, whether on ethical grounds or other; for me, however, the claim something is ‘meat-free’ is usually obvious enough.
 
I personally believe that Veganuary has created the space for marketing genius at many companies, trialling different vegan products for a month to assess popularity, demand, and enjoyment. Due to the steadily increasing rise in interest in veganism, the demand for vegan menus is also rising. This is not just cynicism; I do believe that some companies are driven by ethics and a desire to save the planet. However, it would be short-sighted to not entertain the idea that they are also motivated by profit. Veganuary therefore allows fast-food chains such as McDonalds, KFC and Burger King, as well as restaurants like Wagamama, to learn what the demand is actually in, such as a plant-based burgers or vegan nuggets. 
 
Yet where did ‘Veganuary’ come from? Commencing in the UK by the company of the same name in 2014, this non-profit organisation aimed to promote and educate people about veganism. The subsequent challenge which followed – no animal products for a whole month – quickly became popular. This challenge, comparable to dry January, in which people attempt to go through the whole month without drinking any alcohol, further aims to encourage healthy eating and protect the environment. Despite some backlash, Veganuary may be doing more for the planet that first suspected. The journal ‘Proceedings of National Academy of Sciences’ suggest that if everyone went vegan, the world’s food-related emissions would drop by 70% by 2050; predicting a savings of £440 billion which can certainly be viewed as a positive for veganism. Personally, I enjoy that Veganuary is labelled as a challenge, as giving up completely on animal products is no mean feat to immediately introduce into your life. Seeing it in this way encourages people to persevere, thus reducing the perception that veganism is impossible to maintain.

​So, will Veganuary be for you? Whether it’s to lose weight, challenge yourself, or just to try something new, being open minded towards the concept of Veganism is certainly worth considering. Afterall, if over 500,000 people attempted it last year, why not give it a go?

​Growing up partially in South Africa, and to South African parents, there was no shortage of delicious food to go around. However, a firm favourite, and I think many of us would agree, is the classic Malva pudding. The origins of the dessert are debated, but one thing is clear: this quintessential pudding was one of my mother’s showstoppers. Try it for yourselves!
Ingredients:
Cake

• 250g brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 15ml apricot jam
• 250g flour
• 5g bicarbonate of soda
• 20ml butter
• 5ml vinegar
• 250ml milk

Sauce

• 250ml cream
• 200g white sugar
• 125g butter
• 125ml milk
• 5ml vanilla extract

Method

1. Beat egg and brown sugar together until light and creamy.
2. Mix in apricot jam.
3. Sift flour and bicarbonate of soda together, then combine with milk.
4. Add all ingredients together.
5. Bake for 45 mins at 180 degrees.
6. Mix all sauce ingredients together and heat until boiling.
7. Pour the sauce over the pudding as soon as you take it out of the oven.

Happy baking! 

Léa Wakim

​The end of term period can be particularly daunting for most of us students. If you find yourself sitting at a desk for most of your day, shivering as the temperature outside has suddenly dropped and apprehensive as the shadow of looming deadlines creeps in on a murky December evening, my grandmother has just the thing for you: a warm bowl of her hearty vegetable soup. It’s a fairly simple meal, but still incredibly flavoursome, and one that is sure to bring momentary comfort in the season of summatives and snowstorms.
 
You will need a courgette, some carrots, potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, cinnamon sticks, salt and water. There is no set quantity to each ingredient, so feel free to balance the recipe according to your own taste. Begin by gently rinsing the dirt off of your vegetables. Next, slice or cube them as you boil some water in a cooking pot. There must be enough water in your pot to submerge all of your ingredients, so be mindful of that when deciding on the measure of your vegetables. 
 
You guessed it: once the rinsing, the peeling and the slicing is done, soak your vegetables in your boiling water and salt the mixture. You might choose to slip in a cinnamon stick for the added flavour. Once you find they are tender enough, which should be in about seven to ten minutes, dispose of the bouillon water and blend your vegetables together with some fresh water. Revel in your artfulness as splashes of greens and oranges and cream come together in a graceful swirl before slowly fading into a healthy green. It’s important to remember not to overwater the mixture at the very beginning. Rather, add the water gradually, and salt your mixture accordingly. That way, you can keep control of your soup’s consistency, and have it be as smooth or as lumpy as you like. That’s it! There’s not more to it. And maybe that’s just what a stressed out university student needs this time of year: The peaceful comfort in spending time with a few damp vegetables, simply to give oneself the time of day.
 
I find that every time I have my grandmother soup, taking in, spoonful by spoonful, the quiet relief that I am doing nothing at all but nourishing myself, I am reminded of a passage in Julie Powell’s book about Julia Child’s potage parmentier: ‘The thing you learn with potage parmentier is that “simple” is not exactly the same as “easy”…Certainly, I had made easier dinners…Ordering pizza and getting drunk on Stoli gimlets while waiting for it to arrive, that was another favourite…But now, three bowls of potato soup later, I was, to my relief, thinking of nothing much at all. I lay on my back on the couch, quietly digesting. Julia Child’s soup had made me vulnerable.’
 
Bon appétit!
 
 

Liv Sandow, Cuisine Editor

It is difficult to imagine a perfect continental breakfast without images of beautiful, flaky croissants wafting, like their freshly baked aroma, into my mind. Although Durham and Paris are two very different places, I searched far and wide to find most irresistible croissant in this city so that you don’t have to.

​First up on this croissant odyssey, we ventured to the Bizr Coffee House to sample one of their all-butter croissants, and were immediately confronted with some of life’s big, dairy-related questions. How buttery is too buttery? Is there even such a thing as too much butter? Is butter a carb? Will I be described as ‘all-butter’ after eating all of these croissants? Bizr offered the perfect start to our morning of pastry indulgence: the croissant was a warm colour and a reasonable size for £2.05, but unfortunately its temperature (Baltic) and texture (somewhat stodgy) left us needing more…

​Flat White has long been heralded as one of Durham’s go to cafés – its queues at brunchtime often extend past the lofty gates of Hatfield; we were understandably excited for what this staple of the Durham community would offer us. You can therefore appreciate our incandescent rage at the meagre quality of this breakfast treat; not warm, nor flaky, nor buttery, but instead the type offered on budget airline flight. You could probably fly to Paris with Ryanair for less than this £2.20 extortion. It’s safe to say that we will be croissant Flat White off our list.

During the harsh conditions of war, many innovations are made. Some by simple necessity and some by desperation. Food is not exempt from such circumstances. This is a short note of how the food was changed during the war for the Axis of evil nations.
 
Germany
During the War to end all wars as it was known at the time[1] Germany was practically landlocked due to the Royal navy not letting any supply though and inland surrounded on both sides by the French and the Russians. (Although the Netherlands kept its trade relations, almost all over neighbors cut ties with Germany due to the invasion of neutral Belgium.) In such situations with most of the labor force in the front lines, the production of food suffered greatly, forcing Germans to find an alternative source of food. Thus the ‘Steckrübenwinter’ (Turnip Winter) had started and Germans would find themselves eating one thing and one thing only. Turnip. Specifically, Rutabaga. And in such circumstances, the dreaded ‘kriegsbrot’ (Warbread) was born. A thing that tastes as bland as it looks, as it was just rutabaga mashed together and put in the oven, so it resembles the look of bread while tasting like… dried turnip. Although German high command was truly generous enough to give butter. But this was no ordinary butter. It was turnip paste that had the nickname of ‘Hindenburg fat’[2]. Other introductions are fried rutabaga, rutabaga salad, rutabaga cutlet. The fact sawdust bread was considered a luxury for the front-line troops as it at least, used some flour just shows how bad the situation was. Ironically learning from these mistakes and having France produce grains for them during WW2, Germany did not have as much of a supply issue however after the war the same situation followed with the ‘Hungerwinter’ (Hunger winter).
 
Other notable creations at the time are ‘Ersatz coffee’ ingredients being endive spinach and chocolate. Another variant being acorn mixed with tar (yes, the things used in roads) and sugar. The first recorded soy meat in Europe also appears as ‘Friedenswurst’ (Soy Sausage) was introduced at the time. So, if vegetarians truly want everyone to embrace vegetarianism it seems all we need is another trench warfare. 
 
Japan
Going to another Axis of evil nation, Japan during WW2 faced the same situation. Being an island nation when the American military started island hopping and closing in the quality of life for Japanese people plummeted. This was especially so in Okinawa being isolated and facing the Battle of Okinawa, the people had barely anything to eat. It was at this time ‘モービル天ぷら’ (Mobil tempura) was introduced. During WW2 one thing japan lacked severely was oil. Oil of all kinds. This is one of the reasons cited for the aggressive expansion southwards, but people still craved some fried food and so they used engine oil used in cars as it was no longer needed in a defensive position. After all, anything tastes good if fried. However, the use of engine oil of course led to severe stomach problems and even death. But the alternative being eating raw boots, it is understandable that the Japanese were just trying to find a way to eat the meager supplies that they had. 
 
Another innovation if it can be called was during the battle of Imphal the commander of the 15th regiment 牟田口 廉也 (Mutaguchi Renya) the grand mastermind of the grand plan, proclaimed just like Genghis khan he would get the supplies off the enemies thus the lack of supplies for the operation was ignored and when inevitably several regiments reported lack of supplies during the operation he famously proclaimed ‘Japanese people are herbivores. We are surrounded by green mountains how can one claim a lack of food?’[3]. Of course, the valiant efforts leading herbivores into the jungle ended with a disaster.[4]
 
Italy
When thinking about the War and Italy one of the first stories that come to mind is the famous incident when Erwin Rommel finally cut through and relieved the surrounded Italian troops from encirclement, only to be met with the sight of Italians using precious water in the desert to cook pasta. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Italians used Canned pasta just like any other army using canned food.
 
Before the war, Mussolini wanted to make Italy self-sufficient using colonial imports. One example of this is “Carcade’ a drink that used tea, chicory, and hibiscus flowers coming from the African colonies at the time. However, when the war started Italy was woefully prepared for such circumstances. They lacked any form of supply-chain which could adequately sustain the war. The fact the state was forced to implement ‘orti di guerra’ (war’s orchards) where they transitioned city parks and sports fields into farmland within cities shows the lack of supply at the time. Nevertheless, Italy was faring much better than WW1 Germany as they managed to at least include brown in their diets (which was made using chaff), unlike the Germans who were solely living off of warbread.
 
However, one of the best pasta in the world was created near the end of the war. Renato Gualandi in 1944 to celebrate the occasion where Riccione was freed used army rations of dried food. He wanted to bring Italian and anglo-Saxon cuisine (As it was the British force that liberated the town.) together with a hint of Slovenian culinary. (inspired by a soup 'spikrofi' which was popular in Istria which at the time was part of Italy.) 
 
He created the Carbonara. 
 
Justin Kim

  [1] After all, no one would start calling it World War 1 until the second one comes if you did, you would just be tempting fate at that point.
[2] Hindenburg named after Paul von Hindenburg German Field marshal and president of the Weimar Republic that is well known for airship disaster, giving power to Hitler, and getting killed in the Wonder Woman film. 
[3] 日本人はもともと草食動物なのである。これだけ青い山を周囲に抱えながら、食料に困るなどというのは、ありえないことだ
[4] Although notoriously inept he was one of the few who was under class A (Crimes against peace) but unlike almost all others prosecuted with the same class, he only received 2 years.

Anyone who’s kept up with Great British Bake Off will remember the infamous ‘Japanese Week’ – an episode which upset a lot of people for perpetuating stereotypes of East Asian cuisine. The show has previously educated viewers about wonderful bakes such as kek lapis Sarawak, ma’amoul, and korovai, so it was especially disheartening to see them revert to matcha crepe cakes (not a thing) or steamed buns (which are more traditionally Chinese).
 
The most egregious error was making ‘kawaii cakes’ (translation: boring cakes with Japanese designs/ingredients). Japan has its own tradition of baking, and a cake that instantly comes to mind is the castella cake. This cake may be simple, but it reveals a rich history of Japan’s food, trade and cultural history, and it’s easily the definitive Japanese cake.
 
Japan usually splits confectionary into two categories: wagashi (Japanese confectionary) and yogashi (foreign). Wagashi have different cooking methods, ingredients and functions to yogashi. Western ovens are not commonly installed in Japanese homes – they’re usually equipped with smaller fish ovens. This is why typical wagashi are often cold, or made without an oven.
 
Furthermore, there’s a shorter history of typical baking ingredients in Japan due to its geographical position. Sugar had to be imported and was therefore quite expensive, reserved strictly for medicinal uses. Butter similarly had to be imported, restricted only to those who could afford it. In fact, dairy products in general were not consumed much until the Meiji era, which occurs after Westernisation. Most Japanese sweets are plant-based, which is evidenced in the many ingredients typical in wagashi such as anko (red bean paste), kanten (agar-agar; derived from algae), and kuzu starch (from the roots of the Japanese arrowroot).
 
Wagashi also play an important role in tea ceremonies. They’re usually served to offset the bitterness of matcha and eaten before the tea is drunken. Wagashi are also visually symbolic of the seasons – there’s plum or cherry blossoms in the spring, verdant bamboo leaves in the summer, the rich autumn leaves and finally, the crisp white snow in the winter.
 
The castella cake occupies an interesting position in Japanese confectionary, being somewhat a mix of yogashi and wagashi. It was developed during the Nanban period, beginning in the 1540s when the Europeans arrived in Japan. Portuguese merchants and missionaries arrived in Nagasaki – the only port open for foreign commerce – and they exchanged their cakes in order to have permission to spread the word and establish trade relations.
 
One of these cakes was the Pao de Castela which became kasutera (castella cake). Although it’s closer to the Pao de Lo, the castella cake instantly became an exotic delicacy amongst the Japanese aristocracy. It was incorporated into tea ceremonies and was established as a part of nanbangashi – Japanese desserts specifically from the Nanban era. The ingredients are simple: eggs, flour, mizuame starch syrup and sugar. However, it’s common to see it flavoured with chocolate or matcha. Due to Japan’s rule over Taiwan, the castella cake has become popular there, too, becoming viral on the internet for its delightfully squishy texture. However, you’ll find the more traditional, crumblier version in Japan, where they can be purchased in thin, rectangular strips.  
 
There’s so much more to Japan than matcha and kawaii-culture: the castella cake is just one of the amazing desserts that contestants could have baked during their time there. Whilst there are certainly ‘challenges’ to Japanese desserts, producers should devote the same amount of time and respect to Japanese food as they do to French bakes. They’ve done a disservice to the British and Japanese public by presenting a half-baked picture of Japan’s extensive history.
 
Alex Rigotti

Strolling along the cobbled streets of Montmartre, a little café tucked out of sight but calling passers by to try the meringue and almond-based delicacy, housing dozens of morish flavours of the Macaron. Reputed patisseries boastfully display the sweet treats as their own, as something running within the blood of the French nation; this also including the notorious croissant, for example, drawing both locals and tourists into the nostalgic, warming smells of Paul, or Angelina. But, for something that they claim to make up a significant part of the French gastronomical world, can we really class it as purely, categorically French?

The arrival of the Macaron in France can be traced back to the marriage of Henri II to Catherine de’ Medici in the 16th century. It was originally named the maccherone having been produced in Venetian monasteries since the 8th century. It is claimed that the recipe followed her with her venetian cooks from her roots in Italy. Rather than the grandeur we associate with the French gastronomical world, they had such a humble beginning, with the affectionate nickname ‘priests’ bellybuttons’. Then during the French Revolution a group of Carmelite nuns based in Nancy prepared batches of macarons in order to avoid starvation. (Now known as ‘Les Macarons des sœurs’). The French have claimed that the Macaron was actually first produced by ‘the sisters’ but this could come down to technicalities in the origins of the original vs the French version, or in using the period of the revolution and the enlightenment to legitimise their claims. Their popularisation continued throughout the 19th century with the infamous Maison Ladurée, a confectioners founded by two brothers in 1862. It has now reached worldwide fame and the innovation of flavours and colours surrounding the modest biscuit treat (yes, this is the right term, contrary to popular belief. This could turn into the jaffa cake debate…), with different cultures serving their own twist on the original. It is something of a global phenomenon now, yet it is still such an intricate, unique, and adored treat in its ‘homeland’ of France.
 
Why would we automatically accept and assume that such a dessert would have to have its origins in France, the land of the culinary art and gastronomical prowess? Well, it is just that. The automatic imagery we picture vectors immediately towards pastries, confectionary, cheese and cafés on every street corner – all with foods at its foundation. Our assumptions, nevertheless, don’t have any particular malicious taint to them, but rather something which is based off of fact, and which has been embedded within French culture for centuries. The word dessert has its root in the French verb desservir meaning ‘to clear the table’. It was a clearly defined routine to serve something sweet and light after a hearty, heavy meal and which slowly turned into a form of royal artistry, whilst still being accessible to the masses.
 
If you want to get a taste of the “French” dessert, the places to get a true experience of our generic, romanticised view of France, or Paris in particular, would be firstly Pierre Hermé, Ladurée, and Angelina. Or, from a particular trip to the capital, a special place in Montmartre called La Galette des Moulins. (How can you argue with the French when they even use the terminology of biscuit themselves?) Such a desert, despite its miniature size, has become a true symbol of the culinary arts in France, even if it isn’t, ironically, a truly French dessert. ​

If you want to get a taste of the “French” dessert, the places to get a true experience of our generic, romanticised view of France, or Paris in particular, would be firstly Pierre Hermé, Ladurée, and Angelina. Or, from a particular trip to the capital, a special place in Montmartre called La Galette des Moulins. (How can you argue with the French when they even use the terminology of biscuit themselves?) Such a desert, despite its miniature size, has become a true symbol of the culinary arts in France, even if it isn’t, ironically, a truly French dessert. ​

Emily Mactaggart

Batavia in 1649 by Adam Willaerts
​
On the road to the little right of Mandalay or ‘everything east of the Suez’ before the place was even called Mandalay, It is the 16th century a Dutch merchant meets an ethnically Chinese looking man in the port of Java. He knows he is taking a risk by taking an item that was unknown to the old world, but he feels an odd feeling this venture will be a success. In his mind, doubt refuses to leave him. After all the weird things the Spanish brought from the new world, those… those potatoes failed miserably,[1]
 
However, all he had to do was market this item, right? If these people have been drinking it for apparently thousands of years, … it should all be fine, right?[2]
 
He looks at the dried leaves and considered if the leaves can be grown elsewhere. Perhaps the company farming them themselves will cut out the middleman.[3]
 
He starts writing the itinerary but suddenly forgets what the items were called again. Turning around asking the name, the Chinese man looking annoyed gives a rather terse response.
 
‘tê’. (荼)
 
Around the same time with a discrepancy of a century or so, the Portuguese merchant is loading the same item. Things have been stable since the Luso-Chinese agreement. Taxes were annoying but nothing new as merchants.[4]
 
While most traders took silk or porcelain, he wanted to take a new item. Something that the Chinese seem to have been enjoying for a long time. He was treated to the item when meeting the Chinese officials while paying taxes were never pleasant, …the drink he was served certainly was.
 
In his itinerary, the cargo is written.
 
‘cha’. (茶)
 
So thus, the world was divided into two. Calling one item originating from the same culture group with two different names. Such influences are still present in the modern-day. Only Portugal and Brazil calls it ‘chá’ in their respective continents while the rest of America and most European nations call it in a variation of ‘tea’.[5]
 
The term ‘Cha’ is Sinitic meaning it’s common to most variation of Chinese while ‘te’ is from a variation of Min Nan Chinese, a coastal province of Fujian which has its speakers in Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, and Taiwan as well. It is therefore quite ironic when people ask for chai tea latte linguistically, they are repeating the same word for a cup of coffee that is not even a coffee.[6]
 
Thus, the world has been left calling it one or the other, however, to return to where the story had started Back to Mandalay…

However, in Mandalay where soldiers come you back
Where the old flotilla lay
Tea is served and named neither of the two
On the road to Mandalay
Where the tea is both drunken and eaten
And called lahpet (လက်ဖက်) unlike two china ‘crost the Bay!

​By Justin Kim

[1] Potatoes were introduced to Europe in 1536 by the Spanish however only found a market when King Louis XVI the man most famous for marrying the queen who allegedly said “let them eat cake?’, actively promoted the crop. There is a sense of irony as the royal family promoted the crop after learning of the nutritional value of the potatoes and wanted to help introduce to the common citizenry as a form of ‘Noblesse oblige’.

[2] The myths claim Shennong(神農) who is said to have been born in BC 3218 was the first to discover tea, but the first clear record dates back to 300BC during the Zhou dynasty and only became available to the common citizenry during the Tang dynasty of AD 600~900.

[3] Tea is ended up being one of the major cash crops in the plantations during the colonial era. Assam tea being one of the many examples.

[4] While the Portuguese have arrived in China as early as 1516, until Luso-Chinese (1554) Treaty was signed, they were treated as ‘Folanji pirates’. Folanji originating from the word ‘Frankia’ the old Germanic tribal name and the kingdom. The contested area was an open port for all foreigners but due to all European status falling under piracy only smuggling operation occurred for the European merchant vessels until the signiture.

[5] Exceptions do exist as most Balkan/ Eastern European nations call it a variation of ‘cha’ due to the ottoman/Russian influence while Poland calls it ‘herbata’ being the only clear outlier of this rule in Europe.

[6] The official name of the drink was always simply chai latte according to Starbucks. Despite not being coffee, it was called latte due to its similarity with ‘coffee latte’. The only difference being the use of black tea instead of espresso.

​Over the last 5 years, veganism has surged in popularity, with many Brits now embracing the benefits of a diet free from animal products. Fortunately in the UK, it is now easy to eat out as a vegan, with popular chain restaurants such as Wagamama, Pizza Hut, and Zizzi offering an array of vegan options. Nevertheless, I did not expect to enjoy such variety across the Baltic Sea in Denmark and Sweden, countries traditionally known for fish and pork-heavy diets. As a vegan and a massive foodie, this concerned me. One of my favourite aspects of travelling is undoubtedly experiencing new cuisines. I stepped onto the plane at Manchester Airport fully ready to live off bread and supermarket hummus for the next 9 days, but was pleasantly surprised.
 
With 5.5% of Danes under the age of 34 considering themselves vegan or vegetarian, and many more adopting a flexitarian diet, veganism has certainly become mainstream in Copenhagen. As you walk and cycle around the city, you spot signs advertising vegetarian and vegan food on virtually every corner. It is not difficult to find options without prior research. On our first day in the city, we stumbled across MadenItaly whilst navigating our way through the hustle and bustle of Nyhavn. This small, homely, entirely vegan Italian restaurant provided much needed shelter from one of the day’s many rain showers, and I was both thrilled to discover the incredible selection of (relatively affordable) vegan pizza. If the unusual topping options (such as aubergine and fig) hadn’t already impressed me, the pizza base itself was a revelation, almost resembling focaccia in texture. I’d particularly recommend the ‘Hawaii’ (onion, homemade seitan, mint yogurt and pineapple) and the ‘Beetroot Pesto and Blue Cheese’. And yes, pineapple does belong on pizza - no question about it!

​Vegan junk food is a huge trend in the UK, with vegan burger stands popping up at festivals and across cities. Whereas Scandinavians seem to be taking a slightly healthier approach. Poke bowls have become a trendy dish which champion both high nutritional value and taste. I was excited to find a place in the student quarter offering vegan alternatives. After a long morning walk, I wolfed down the comforting mixture of tofu, brown rice, and fresh veggies whilst enjoying the sense of hygge evoked by the traditional Danish decor. However, for those who are craving the intense salty and sweet flavours found in the classic Chinese takeaway, I would highly recommend the Veggie Heroes buffet. Definitely go on an empty stomach: the options range from fried soy ‘chicken’ balls, to tofu in ‘oyster’ sauce, soy ‘beef’ with leeks and many more. There is even a large selection of sushi to have on the side! You will want to try EVERYTHING. 

​The cultural diversity of vegan food in Denmark, from samosas and falafel to sushi and ramen, is one of the reasons why I loved it so much. Nonetheless, I could not go home without sampling some real danish cuisine, particularly the eponymous danish pastry. Luckily our hotel was close to a fully vegan bakery. Starting my mornings with a Kanelsneg and a walk along one of Copenhagen’s lakes was definitely a highlight of the trip. It made me feel like I was experiencing relaxed city life like a real dane! However, it was brunch on our final morning in the city that was the culinary highlight of the city break. A local recommendation took us to ‘Kalaset’: a funky restaurant with colourful 70s decor, serving a vibrant vegan brunch including falafel, scrambled tofu, celeriac steak, roasted carrot, peppers, potatoes, beetroot hummus, fresh fruit and a smoothie shot. They also do great coffee and a chilli chai latte if you are in need of an afternoon pick-me-up.

 If you are vegan, vegetarian, or just a downright food fanatic, I urge you to visit Denmark and explore the culinary delights of Copenhagen. It may be expensive, but the food is unusual, exciting and most importantly incredibly tasty. 

By Gracie Linthwaite 

Emily Kilner
 
Inspired by a country which boats everything from the Amazon Jungle, to expansive coastlines and daunting glaciers, Peru’s gastronomic scene is both diverse and experimental. 
 
Peru is world renowned for its cuisine. Tourists flock to try its edible delights and Lima’s Central Restaurant recently ranked 5thin the world and even featured on Masterchef UKin 2018. 
 
Living in Lima has allowed me to explore a labyrinth of dishes and styles of cooking, from Ceviche (raw fish dish marinated with lemon and spicy aji), to the fusion of Chifa (a new cuisine created through the mixing of Japanese and Peruvian flavours), and the ever reliable Arroz con pollo. 
 
I could write a whole post about Lima’s food scene, but will save that for another time. This is because I recently took a trip to the city of Arequipa in southern Peru, which offers a more sophisticated and experimental cuisine than Lima. Arequipa’s tasty traditions date back to pre-Inca times, and many tourists today visit the southern city with the sole purpose of discovering its famed gastronomy.
 
Here are a few of the ‘delicacies’ I tried: 

1. Alpaca Crepe 

 
Yes, Alpacas are adorable, but they are also a staple food for the locals here. I was recommended this place, Crepisimo, by almost all of the guide books, and it did not disappoint. 
 
Alpaca meat was tender and tasty, tasting like something between beef and lamb. I would definitely recommend! The crepe itself was also cooked very well, and the herby garlicy creamy sauce was perfect. 
 
Rating: 9/10

            2. Soltero de Queso
  
If you are vegetarian and considering traveling in Peru, I can only say good luck. It is not an established diet here. Most of the vegetarian options on menu, if any, will be a veggie omelette at best. Vegetables are also pretty rare to come by with most traditional dishes. 
 
However, this traditional dish in Arequipa would top any vegetarians’ list. It doesn’t look all especially tasty, but somehow chucking a variety of different vegetables, beans, and traditional lime dressing on a plate works surprisingly well. The main event on this dish is the cheese. You won’t be finding any cathedral city cheddar or cranberry Wensleydale out here, but this Peruvian cheese is tasty and refreshing. 
 
Rating: 6/10

 
       3. Rocoto Relleno 

This number is advertised everywhere as THE dish of Arequipa. Consisting of a spicy rocoto pepper, meat and vegetable filling, with a side of cheesy potatoes. 
 
Looks can be deceiving, and this dish in two ways Firstly, this is not a bell pepper! It is spicier than it looks. Secondly, despite the photo, this dish was incredibly tasty. 
 
Rating: 7/10

       4. Adobo  

This dish is only ever served on Sundays in Arequipa, so I felt obliged to try it. After a quick search on Tripadvisor, I found The Super Adobo in the old historic district of the town, promising the best Abodo in the whole city. When I ordered, I still wasn’t sure what it was, but the smell in the restaurant was enough to heighten my anticipation for this famous dish. 
 
What can basically be described as a marinated pork and onion stew with a hefty bread roll, was probably the best meal I had during this trip. Simple but full of flavour, and nothing better than dipping some freshly baked bread in the left-over sauce. 
 
Rating: 10/10

          5. Americano dish  

There is a famous style of restaurant in Arequipa called Picanterias, which serve up huge plates of a mixture of traditional dishes between 12pm and 6pm every day. 
 
I was a bit overwhelmed by the menu, so chose one which looked like it had a taste of everything. 
 
What I think was on this plate (still unsure): 

• Rice 
• Beefy stew
• Huge bit of pork scratching
• Another Rocoto Relleno
• Patita (pork- legs) 
• Noodle/ Spaghetti pie 
• Corn
• Onion salad. 
• Drink of Chicha de Jorra (fermented corn drink)

Still unsure of some of the ingredients on this dish, it was an interesting experience trying to get through some of the different parts. Most was fairly tasty, with the beef stew a favourite. However, other parts I would definitely not rush to try again, specifically the pork legs and the weird noodle pie. Also, far too much for one person and I ended up taking half of it in a doggy bag! An interesting new experience, but not one of my preferred dishes. 
 
Rating: 5/10
 

        6. Guinea Pig  

I couldn’t have come to Arequipa, let alone Peru, without trying another one of their national dishes. Before Arequipa, the only guinea pigs I had seen were laid out in a market looking vile, so I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to try one. 
 
I asked at my hostel this time for a recommendation, thinking if I was going to try it then I would try it properly at a renowned cuy (guinea pig) restaurant. Setting me back about 55 soles (£12), this is one of the most expensive dishes I have had my whole time in Peru!
 
The most traditional way to eat this is deep fried with some onion salad and potatoes so I jumped in and went for it. 
 
I agree it does not look appetising in the slightest, and unsurprisingly there isn’t much meat on the dish, but what meat there was present was actually delicious! It was tender and full of flavour and melted in my mouth, and the crispy potatoes were stunning. It also came with a sweet, oat porridge type thing (second picture), which surprisingly was an excellent complement. I could have eaten a whole dish of it to be honest. 
 
Only thing I wouldn’t recommend when trying a Cuy, is turning it over to see some wee guinea pig teeth. I’m glad I did this after eating it. 
 
Rating: 7/10

          7. Coffee

Peru, and South America as a whole have some excellent coffee. I have tried my fair share over 6 months, but a coffee at PUKU PUKU here in Arequipa was the best I have had yet.
 
Rating: 10/10.