I love their mushroom sandwiches. But then mushrooms on toast would probably be my last meal on earth, so I’m a bit biased. Or, if it was my last meal, maybe I would plump for two mushrooms, vast and baked, with their juices spooned over a thick round of sourdough toast. There’s something primal about the deep, farmyard savour. They are natural fast food. Just brush them gently – never wash – trim off their woody stem-ends and fry them quickly in butter and garlic. But Sporeboys don’t need my advice. The are doing everything just perfectly…….

White was in Manhattan promoting The Devil In The Kitchen – the American edition of his autobiography. His publicists at Bloomsbury were selling him as the original rock-star chef. The one who made Gordon Ramsay cry – who would string up his kitchen juniors by their aprons before dumping them in the dustbin. He was off to do a live cooking demo on The Martha Stewart Show. If he could keep his breakfast down long enough.

Last night it went wrong. It went wrong when White suggested ‘the house cocktail’. The heat of the shot glass threw one member of the drinking party into a blind panic, and she smashed her hand down onto the table. There was flaming sambuca everywhere. White got burnt, and had to ram his hand into a bucket of ice water, and bandage it up in a table napkin, before somebody – nobody quite remembers who – rolled him into a cab.

But somehow he still managed to look handsome – despite a grey demeanour and a tangle of greasy hair. He hadn’t spent any time at the mirror, but it wouldn’t have hurt – The Martha Stewart Show is, after all, the American standard for gracious domestic living. White’s turbot with citrus and cilantro was due to sit alongside a leaf-covered candleholder how-to, and a tip on using old navigational charts as gift wrap. It was the start of one hell of an adventure……

Marco (alongside the equally brilliant and magnificent Mark Hix, Antony Worrall Thompson and Thomasina Miers) will be judging the British Street Food Awards. And by the look of this Marco Pierre White LIDO feature in the Sunday Times magazine, he’s quite excited about it……

Because of the success of grazing foods like sushi, dim sum and tapas, we’ll see more and more chefs learning to be more flexible with their menus. I’ve always had my suspicions that the starter-main-course-dessert structure is actually as much of a bore for the chef as it is for the diner. The only problem with grazing menus that offer lots of small courses is that – whether you like it or not – you’ll be on first name terms with your waiter before you leave the restaurant.

Menus in 2010 will continue to tell us more about the origins of our food. ‘Transparency’ is the buzzword because, these days, we all want to know the farm where our food comes from. We even want to know the name of the farmer. I’m amazed by the number of waiters who have no idea. Admittedly, most of them don’t even know what the soup of the day is, but it seems ridiculous in this day and age that waiters – and even chefs – are working in ignorance.

But the only trend that all critics seem to agree on is the importance of street food in 2010. I read about it first in the wonderful Olive magazine (where I used to be a restaurant reviewer). And now the Guardian are behind the Awards. According to http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/dec/31/the-year-ahead-food, we are up there with the London opening of Heston Blumenthal’s new London restaurant. I fully intend to make the most of being a What’s Hot, before I’m a What’s Not. But, in the meantime, here are my thoughts on the foodie year ahead……

Last year
Salt

This year
Pepper. I kid you not. This trend is in response to the fact that many processed foods are high in sodium, and companies are trying to replace the savouriness of salt with pepper. Without salt life would be impossible. Without pepper, it would be impossibly dull.

Last year’s superfood
Pomegranate

This year’s superfood
Spelt – one of the most ancient cereals known to mankind. It fell from grace because the chaff was so difficult to remove, but now it’s back. It is wheat free and has a Glycaemix Index of just 30, making it a natural choice for those with a wheat allergy and on a low-GI diet. And, let’s be honest, isn’t that pretty much everyone these days?

Last year
Dessert to end a meal.

This year
Savouries to end a meal. The Ivy recommend their savouries to diners who are still lingering over a bottle of red which would be spoiled by a pudding. Just don’t show yourself up by ordering one (whether it’s the welsh rarebit or the herring roe) as a starter. So nouveau!

At Leon, they serve fast food. As in “food that is fast”. Not “fast food”. Although you could be forgiven for thinking otherwise. Behind the counter was a multi-channelled chute, just like McDonalds. I gave the waitress my order and she turned round to get it, just like McDonalds. But at Leon the chicken is free range, the coffee is fair trade, and – if you sing at the counter – you get a free sticker. Which isn’t just like McDonalds at all.

I decided to eat indoors. Well, even though I love the street, it was raining. The food came in little pots, with no plates. But there was warm pitta to mop up any accidents at the table. The glorious Moroccan meatballs (£2.80) had the taste of grassfed lamb, and the taramasalada (£3) had a clean tang of lemon. But the magic beans (£2.50) were, well, magic. They showed what could be done with just green beans, lemon, rosemary and chilli. And gluten free/lactose free/meat free to boot!

From the two forks the South African waitress gave me, she clearly thought I was expecting company. But I wasn’t. I was just doing my job as a restaurant reviewer. When I ordered two more main courses, she smiled said ‘What you’ve eaten already tonight would feed a family of five for three days where I come from’. She clearly thought I had an eating disorder. I pointed out that I wasn’t finishing every dish I ordered, but she was off serving someone else.

The crunch-coated fish, wrapped in a Lebanese flatbread (£3.90) tasted like a “fast food” fish burger. And I mean that as a compliment. The taste of “fast food” is chemically enhanced, and has more to do with men in lab coats than men in chef’s whites. But the Leon fish burger was cooked in olive oilm and slathered in a tartar sauce, rich with capers. The fact that the fish came from sustainable sources was of secondary importance. This was a really happy meal. I always look out for their entry form when I’m judging the RSPCA Awards http://www.rspcagoodbusinessawards.com/judges.html/.

The Leon idea came from Henry Dimbleby — a former chef at the Michelin-starred Four Seasons Inn On The Park — and John Vincent. The entrepreneurial pair have found a real gap in the market. Their mix of ethical food, that is really big on flavour, has been a huge success. And now they’ve got a chain on their hands. But they still get the whole street food idea, which is why they want to support us instore and online. We are in good company, people……

The chestnut seller on the South Bank got me thinking about Christmas. It wasn’t his welcoming spirit – God no. He was French. And the most miserable mobiler I’ve come across in a long time. But he still got me thinking. At this time of year, when I’m dreaming of long wreaths of sausages, hocks of ham, and seething bowls of punch that make the front room dim with steam, I like to wassail. The English have always “wassailed” rather well at Christmas. In Speculum Stultorum by Nigellus Wireker (an ideal stocking filler, by the way) the English students at the university of Paris were praised for their generosity, but damned for being “addicted to wassail”.

The wassail bowl was as big as a cauldron, and kept warm over the burning yule log. On New Year’s Day, the children would take the bowl to their friends – a practice that became known as ‘wassailing’. If there was any left over (unlikely, given that this was before Diamond White cider was freely available from unscrupulous off-licences) the holiday ale would then get poured over the land – or fed to the livestock – in an attempt to boost fertility for the next season. It was a strong old drink – guaranteed to have you decking the halls whether you want to or not.

In A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, Scrooge proposes that he and Bob Cratchit discuss the future “over a bowl of Smoking Bishop”. This punch, sometimes called ‘purple wine’, earnt the name ‘Bishop’ from its colour. Although a real bishop does give a very particular flavour. It’s made by pouring red wine over ripe, bitter oranges. The liquor is heated (or ‘mulled’) in an old pan which can be pushed back into the fire. Sugar and spices (chiefly cloves, star anise, and cinnamon) are added to taste. Smoking Bishop always gets me donning my gay apparel.

I can’t wait. Champagne for breakfast, sherry with the neighbours, and then dry white wine with lunch. Followed by heavy red wine, sweet white wine, port, brandy and whisky. I never remember the Queen’s speech. In France, their Biere de Noel arrives for a limited season only. A friend of mine was in Normandy on Boxing Day last year, and had the temerity to ask the bar owner for a Biere de Noel. He was met by scenes resembling a Bateman cartoon. “Mais Monsieur, Noel est…parti”. Wonder if the bar owner was related to that chestnut seller on the South Bank?

 “You’re on holiday, you’re feeling peckish, what do you do? You don’t really want the expense of a full blown meal, so you think to yourself ‘Do I trust the street vendors?’  The answer in many cases must be no. My general rule of thumb is, if you’re in a western country (USA, UK, Germany, Australia), don’t touch them with a bargepole — unless, of course, you are into greasy nondescript burgers with boiled onions or boiled frankfurters with tasteless cotton wool bread.   Let’s face it — we don’t do street food well. Except, of course, the great bacon buttie. As long as good quality bacon is used.

Take the sub-continent, the Far East or other Asian Countries and even North Africa and we’re talking a very different story, I love this sort of street food.   In the hawkers’ markets of Singapore I’ve experienced some of the most delicious stuffed flatbreads and piping hot bowls of steaming noodles with chicken and prawns, cooked to order in large woks.

Then in Indonesia you can’t afford to miss the different sate with a variety of sauces including the traditional peanut.   There are times when you yearn a steaming spicy vegetable stir-fry enriched with sambal oelek, soy sauce and honey or some fab seafood encased in a fritter with a spicy chilli sauce.

And in China you can’t go wrong with their vegetable or chicken spring rolls. So cheap to make, but so delicious to eat.  I’ve even eaten saffron ice cream from an Indian street vendor, how brave was that? But it was delicious, and I’m still here to tell the tale. Street food done well has to be one of the nicest forms of instant fodder, but be selective — go where the crowds go; it’s definitely the best endorsement.