Despite more New Year resolutions than I care to remember, I have never been able to keep a diary. Initially, I blamed my lack of self-discipline although it may have something to do with too much good food and wine over dinner.
Instead, over the past few years I have tried to keep a physical, professional memory bank of my own. It is not very attractive: a black, see-through plastic box about 2ft x 1ft that sits at the foot of my desk. Aesthetically, it has no redeeming features whatsoever. The appeal is its size - big enough to accommodate even the largest menu I bring home.
I make a point of asking the managers at most restaurants I visit for a copy of at least the inside part of their menu and, after I have taken whatever notes I may need, I consign the ones that have given the most pleasure to this black box and the rest to recycling. Somehow rifling through that plastic box generates aromas and tastes that my notebook cannot remind me of. And, when I am stuck in the middle of a piece of writing it can be just the inspiration I am looking for.
But, above all, what these menus set in train is a series of memories more delicious even than the meals themselves. I am reminded of the journeys to and from the places that have given so much pleasure - walking through Central Park to have lunch at The Modern in MoMA or sitting in the rear seat of a people carrier on the way back from The Fat Duck at Bray to London. Walking is unquestionably the best prelude to a good meal and it will be a long time before I forget strolling along London's South Bank after a storm had just passed to an unforgettable meal at Jeremy Lee's Blueprint Café with a fine view of the sun setting over the Thames.
Overall, I believe I have eaten better this year than at any time since I made the conscious decision 30 years ago to put quality before quantity. We are living in the golden age of restaurants. A number of factors contributes to this. Mostly these have a positive effect, but, in the wrong hands, they can present dangers.
First, there is the sheer amount of money flowing into restaurants. In the wrong hands this leads to over-design and over-intricacy, manifested in someof my most disappointing meals of the year, of which Per Se in New York, Maze and the new Dorchester Grill in London are the saddest examples. But in the right hands it means that those who practise their culinary skills at the highest level can find themselves the backers they need and also other income streams to underpin their experiments and their restaurants. Hence the culinary excitementon offer wherever Heston Blumenthal, Ferran Adria,Martin Berasategui in San Sebastian, Hiroyuki Hiramatsu (in Paris or Tokyo) or Anthony Flinn in Leedsare cooking.
Second, huge technological advances in both kitchen and restaurant are enabling chefs continually to extend their repertoire and are helping to improve the speed and precision of customer service. The Roca brothers have enhanced sous vide cooking to produce extra-intenseflavours, and it was this that made last summer's dinner at El Celler de Can Roca, outside Gerona in north-east Spain, so exceptional. Advances in technology are also behind the increasing quality threshold at lower prices, as the emergence of such relaxed places as Leon, Ping Pong and Le Pain Quotidien testifies.
A combination of extraordinary personal talent and sense of place has distinguished meals in the most diverse of places for me: at Hélène and Thierry Schwartz's Le Bistro des Saveurs in the medieval town of Obernai in Alsace; at the newly opened Steirereck in the heart of Vienna's City Park; and at Le Cinq in Paris's George V, with its definitive service and cooking to match. On a less refined level but just as satisfying there is Graham Garrett at The West House in Biddenden, Kent; and in London, Jeff and Chris Galvin at Galvin on Baker Street and Richard Corrigan at the tastefully renovated Bentley's in Swallow Street, just off Piccadilly.
If I had to choose the place that gave me more pleasure than any other in 2005 it would have to be the city of San Sebastian in northern Spain. Our first visit there at the beginning of the year was so impressive that we returned en famille to mark a significant birthday for our son and carefully divided our time between its restaurants, tapas bars and beach. Of all we enjoyed, the memories of a relaxed Saturday lunch at Bodega Alejandron, which belongs to Martin Berasategui and where the fixed-price menu is an astonishingly good value €29.50, may linger the longest.
