Fusion cooking is an area of great fascination for the cook. It is also fraught with pitfalls. Why put just two or three flavours on a plate when you can mix a palette of seven or eight? And why not visit three continents at the same time? A little tamarind paste, some balsamicoy a few shards of lemon grass? Just what the best-dressed lamb shank is wearing these days.
Sometimes fusion cooking works well, sometimes it is spectacularly awful. On the whole it works best where there is a sound knowledge of the individual types of cooking being fused, as it were. It is important to be aware of the underlying cultures and the authentic use of the ingredients being deployed. Having spent a good deal of time in kitchens in the Far East, I feel comfortable using oriental flavours in my own kitchen, and am glad that all the ingredients I like to cook with are much more readily available than they used to be. Packets of ready-selected Thai herbs, for example, are most useful. And coconut milk is an excellent ingredient in soups. One of my tomato soups is a ‘fusion’ version of the tomato, lovage and garlic soup I often cook in the summer; Thai lime leaves and ginger replace the lovage and garlic, and coconut the milk or cream.