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Friday, 9 October 2015
Saturday, 22 November 2014
My body is CRAVING vegetables
Having been working away all this week, and eating all manner of assorted crap ( my cry of ' I need a salad' meant a trip to Pizza Hut to raid the salad bar - dark times), my body desperately needs some vegetables. Lots of vegetables. But it's winter, and it's dark and cold, and the salads of summer just won't cut it.
What to do? Firstly, raid Waitrose* for vegetables. Butternut squash, garlic, red onions, mixed peppers, avocados, tomatoes, lettuce leaves and pre prepared globe artichokes all go in the basket. I confess now that I ate all the artichokes before making the salad, so they no longer feature.
Before the rugby starts, my rubbish peeler and I do battle with the butternut squash, in what involves a 20 minute workout to get the damn thing peeled that leaves me sweating and feeling like maybe I should have worn a sports bra. Chop, chop, chop and into the roasting tin go the squash, peppers, garlic and red onions, with a hefty dose of salt, pepper and olive oil. It all looks beautiful and very healthy, and the smell of it cooking is a) making me salivate and b) means I won't forget it and let it burn to a crisp, although it may have a negative impact on the washing hanging out to dry.
At half time, I bung in some tomatoes so they go delightfully squishy, without turning to pulp. Some Romaine lettuce goes in a bowl as the salad base, I did think about kale but there are limits to my virtue. I add half an avocado to the leaves, spoon on the veggies, and top with grilled halloumi and pumpkin seeds. I could write an ode to halloumi (maybe I will), that plasticky, tasteless cheese that when cooked, becomes salty and crispy and delicious.
THIS is just what I need. It needs no dressing as the oil the vegetables cooked in flavours the rest of the salad.
Clearly, my food photography needs some work, but I hope this gives you an idea:
And just in case you think it's all too virtuous and healthy for a Saturday night, I have an Estrella Damm to drink, and a bar and a half of Fruit and Nut in the fridge. And crappy telly to watch. Perfect.
*Other, considerably cheaper supermarkets are available, but their 'perfectly ripe avocados' seldom are, and this makes me cross.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
What to do? Firstly, raid Waitrose* for vegetables. Butternut squash, garlic, red onions, mixed peppers, avocados, tomatoes, lettuce leaves and pre prepared globe artichokes all go in the basket. I confess now that I ate all the artichokes before making the salad, so they no longer feature.
Before the rugby starts, my rubbish peeler and I do battle with the butternut squash, in what involves a 20 minute workout to get the damn thing peeled that leaves me sweating and feeling like maybe I should have worn a sports bra. Chop, chop, chop and into the roasting tin go the squash, peppers, garlic and red onions, with a hefty dose of salt, pepper and olive oil. It all looks beautiful and very healthy, and the smell of it cooking is a) making me salivate and b) means I won't forget it and let it burn to a crisp, although it may have a negative impact on the washing hanging out to dry.
At half time, I bung in some tomatoes so they go delightfully squishy, without turning to pulp. Some Romaine lettuce goes in a bowl as the salad base, I did think about kale but there are limits to my virtue. I add half an avocado to the leaves, spoon on the veggies, and top with grilled halloumi and pumpkin seeds. I could write an ode to halloumi (maybe I will), that plasticky, tasteless cheese that when cooked, becomes salty and crispy and delicious.
THIS is just what I need. It needs no dressing as the oil the vegetables cooked in flavours the rest of the salad.
Clearly, my food photography needs some work, but I hope this gives you an idea:
And just in case you think it's all too virtuous and healthy for a Saturday night, I have an Estrella Damm to drink, and a bar and a half of Fruit and Nut in the fridge. And crappy telly to watch. Perfect.
*Other, considerably cheaper supermarkets are available, but their 'perfectly ripe avocados' seldom are, and this makes me cross.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, 3 January 2014
When the Yanks are in town......
OK, so she's not technically a Yank. She's my oldest friend, lives in Nashville and is married to a Tennessean. But when she's in town, which is sadly only once or twice a year, we do fun stuff. And today's fun stuff was ice skating at Somerset House and then a visit to what I understand to be two of London's hottest new openings in 2013. I know, I'm so last year.
We start off in Balthazar, which we stumble across purely by accident, having headed into Covent Garden looking for a post ice skating watering hole. We prop ourselves up at the bar and hit the wine list. Very good, they have Bourgogne Aligote by the glass - a rare treat and the perfect white wine for a kir. So of course, I have that. More friends arrive, I discover the oyster menu and I want oysters, but only if they have Carlingford - I'm demanding - and they do, hurrah! The friends order more drinks, the lovely head barman asks if the oldest friend wants one, I say "no, she's American, she can't handle her drink." Turns out he's from Boston. Ah well. We still get his card and the offer to help us out with a table when we want to dine. What a sweetie. And the oysters are, of course, perfect.
Always wanted oysters to come by the eight, so when I'm in France I can order 'huit huitres'. Not sure the French would find this as funny as I do.
We then head to Flesh and Buns. I've been dying to eat here for a while, ever since Grace Dent wrote about it back when it opened and the cool kids were hanging out there. I love Grace Dent. She writes a great bad review, when called for. I can't do this. I'm so greedy that I'd probably fall face down into a Happy Meal and declare it one of the best things I've ever eaten. Although I've never actually eaten a Happy Meal. I am, however, partial to a quarter pounder with cheese as THE BEST HANGOVER CURE EVER. Shouty capitals intended.
We are late, we can't find it (mainly because I can't read a map), we need a pee. Hurrah, it's over there. And the staff are lovely and the ambience is great and there are toilets. And cocktails. We are saved.
Lurid pink and green cocktails. After oysters. What could possibly go wrong?
We fall on the food menu like it hasn't just been Christmas and we've stuffed ourselves every day. We order soft shell crab, beef skewers and edamame beans to start, and then go in for duck and crispy piglet belly as the flesh to go in our buns.
No pictures of the crab, because it was so divinely wonderful that we skull it down, with it barely touching the jalapeno mayonnaise, in ten seconds flat. Remember to take a snap of the deliciously spicy, cooked pink (don't tell Westminster Council) beef skewers before they too go down the hatch. Not sure there was any yogurt with them, as per the menu. Pretty sure I don't care.
Then the star of the show, the flesh and buns arrive. We have definitely ordered the two fattiest meats on the menu, and we are in heaven. The duck has crispy skin, chewy fat, that gorgeous contrast of really dark, almost offaly meat, along with the lighter, still intensely flavoured meat that falls off the bone. Its served with sour plum sauce (fabulous) and beetroot pickle (proceed with caution). And the piglet belly? My god, it's out of this world, crispy skin, wobbly fat and juicy meat. Its served with miso mustard (great) and pickled apples (which don't get a look in) We pile the flesh into the buns, which are like a cross between char Sui buns and bao. This makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about. I don't. I just find that char Sui buns have way too much dough and bao are great, and while these buns have a little more to them than bao, they're equally as good. Thus we are winning.
Duck, halfway through being devoured.
Piglet belly, as yet untouched. We ate it all.
Check out those buns
It doesn't look all that pretty assembled, but it tastes damn fine.
Once we've begged the lovely waitresses to take away the mere scraps we've left, they bring us the desert menu. The couple at the end of the table have had their own fire pit brought to them and are happily toasting marshmallows in it. We toy with the idea, and then decide we're good, we've had enough. And thus endeth another day this week where we've eaten so much we need to lie down. The January detox starts tomorrow. Yeah, right.
www.balthazarlondon.com
www.fleshandbuns.com
We start off in Balthazar, which we stumble across purely by accident, having headed into Covent Garden looking for a post ice skating watering hole. We prop ourselves up at the bar and hit the wine list. Very good, they have Bourgogne Aligote by the glass - a rare treat and the perfect white wine for a kir. So of course, I have that. More friends arrive, I discover the oyster menu and I want oysters, but only if they have Carlingford - I'm demanding - and they do, hurrah! The friends order more drinks, the lovely head barman asks if the oldest friend wants one, I say "no, she's American, she can't handle her drink." Turns out he's from Boston. Ah well. We still get his card and the offer to help us out with a table when we want to dine. What a sweetie. And the oysters are, of course, perfect.
Always wanted oysters to come by the eight, so when I'm in France I can order 'huit huitres'. Not sure the French would find this as funny as I do.
We then head to Flesh and Buns. I've been dying to eat here for a while, ever since Grace Dent wrote about it back when it opened and the cool kids were hanging out there. I love Grace Dent. She writes a great bad review, when called for. I can't do this. I'm so greedy that I'd probably fall face down into a Happy Meal and declare it one of the best things I've ever eaten. Although I've never actually eaten a Happy Meal. I am, however, partial to a quarter pounder with cheese as THE BEST HANGOVER CURE EVER. Shouty capitals intended.
We are late, we can't find it (mainly because I can't read a map), we need a pee. Hurrah, it's over there. And the staff are lovely and the ambience is great and there are toilets. And cocktails. We are saved.
Lurid pink and green cocktails. After oysters. What could possibly go wrong?
We fall on the food menu like it hasn't just been Christmas and we've stuffed ourselves every day. We order soft shell crab, beef skewers and edamame beans to start, and then go in for duck and crispy piglet belly as the flesh to go in our buns.
No pictures of the crab, because it was so divinely wonderful that we skull it down, with it barely touching the jalapeno mayonnaise, in ten seconds flat. Remember to take a snap of the deliciously spicy, cooked pink (don't tell Westminster Council) beef skewers before they too go down the hatch. Not sure there was any yogurt with them, as per the menu. Pretty sure I don't care.
Then the star of the show, the flesh and buns arrive. We have definitely ordered the two fattiest meats on the menu, and we are in heaven. The duck has crispy skin, chewy fat, that gorgeous contrast of really dark, almost offaly meat, along with the lighter, still intensely flavoured meat that falls off the bone. Its served with sour plum sauce (fabulous) and beetroot pickle (proceed with caution). And the piglet belly? My god, it's out of this world, crispy skin, wobbly fat and juicy meat. Its served with miso mustard (great) and pickled apples (which don't get a look in) We pile the flesh into the buns, which are like a cross between char Sui buns and bao. This makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about. I don't. I just find that char Sui buns have way too much dough and bao are great, and while these buns have a little more to them than bao, they're equally as good. Thus we are winning.
Duck, halfway through being devoured.
Piglet belly, as yet untouched. We ate it all.
Check out those buns
It doesn't look all that pretty assembled, but it tastes damn fine.
Once we've begged the lovely waitresses to take away the mere scraps we've left, they bring us the desert menu. The couple at the end of the table have had their own fire pit brought to them and are happily toasting marshmallows in it. We toy with the idea, and then decide we're good, we've had enough. And thus endeth another day this week where we've eaten so much we need to lie down. The January detox starts tomorrow. Yeah, right.
www.balthazarlondon.com
www.fleshandbuns.com
Location:Balthazar and Flesh and Buns
Thursday, 19 September 2013
In canapé heaven
'Would you like to come and judge some top canapés?' says the email from Square Meal. Errrrrrrr, YES, I would very much like that please. So Wednesday afternoon finds me hobbling down to Old Billingsgate (long story involving dodgy shoes, booze and a wedding dance floor) to the Square Meal Canapé Cup.
I snaffle a couple of drinks walking past the stalls and get talking in the queue of fellow judges to a vegetarian teetotaller. Hmmmm, this might not be as fun as first thought. But once we're in the canapé room, I realise that he is pure gold, most of the dishes are not vegetarian, much to his chagrin and my delight, so I eat his as well. I'd like to apologise in advance for the quality of the pictures here, but it's quite difficult to take photos when balancing a glass of champagne, a voting form, a handbag and a pen, all the while trying to avoid someone leaping in and getting their hand in the photo.
Subterranean canapé tasting.
First up is Alistair Hugo, with organic Atlantic salmon, with fennel cream. It's good, but too much fennel, I happen to like fennel, but thought that horseradish cream would have worked better. Gosh, how fussy I am getting in my old age.
Organic Atlantic salmon.
Next up are tiny little parcels of canapé loveliness, the perfect size for finger food, and light too. These little beauties are from the Winter Garden at The Landmark Hotel, and are "fresh tuna and marinated cucumber, rolled in rice paper and topped with sesame seeds and ponzu caviar". They are little bundles of deliciousness.
Yellowfin tuna rice paper roll.
My favourite table for the sheer enthusiasm and positive attitude of the lady manning it is Stratford Old Town Hall. The food is windfall too, and makes my new friend very happy as its pretty much the only veggie dish on offer (I still snaffle two). This is a jollof rice, which I love, black beans and spices rolled in a courgette and served on fried plantain. It's wonderful, and I love the fact that people are commenting on the size, only to be told that Africa doesn't have a tradition of canapés, so eat up!
Odun Nengor "Nice Nice"
London's friendliest lady from Stratford Old Town Hall.
Back to meaty goodness for the next course, and I'm not just talking about the boys in the picture below.
Meaty boys from Rotunda.
This is Rotunda's offering of teriyaki marinated beef, and it's so, so tender, the beef having been hand reared and grass fed, then aged for 32 days. How could anyone be a vegetarian after tasting this? Nice work boys.
Teriyaki marinated Northumbrian beef.
I'm a little disappointed with the next offering. It's from Quince at the May Fair, and sounds like it should be fabulous - " tea smoked duck with scotch quails egg", and while you can taste the slightly gamely quality of the duck, there's nothing of the tea smoke I recognise, and the bread 'soldiers' to scoop out the egg are a bit lacklustre. Next!
Tea smoked duck with scotch quails egg.
Next doesn't let me down. This is by Melissa Webb at Hedsor House (check out the fab yet simple presentation), and it's cured wood pigeon, molasses, beetroot and anise blossom. The flavours work perfectly together and it's autumn in a mouthful, the sweetness of the molasses and beetroot and the gaminess of the duck brought to life by the anise. I love it.
Out of the Woods (and on to my plate) cured wood pigeon.
I think it says a lot about the next offering that there is no photo. It's from the Hippodrome, hardly gourmet central (miaow), and it's six hour cooked beef fillet, with "organic heirloom tomato gazpacho jelly, gin salt crystals, celeriac and wasabi remoulded with brioche dust." There's way too much going on here, the beef tastes nowhere near as good as the offering from Rotunda, and the squares of toasted bread it's served on are soggy. The guy manning the table makes no attempt to engage with the punters, and all in all, it's a bit of lame effort. Proving what I have long thought, that it's not just the food, but the interaction of those cooking and serving it, that makes it all part of the experience of how we enjoy what we're eating.
I confess that I spend a lot of time in Feng Sushi, as they have a branch in Borough Market, near my office, I love sushi, and a now sadly ex-colleague and I used to spend an inordinate amount of time in there gorging on soft shell crab. Their offering is crispy miso salmon cube, and, as the name suggests, it's salmon served on warm rice, with popping salmon eggs and yuzu tobiko (some form of citrusy roe apparently, I had to Google it.) It's pretty good, but way too big, not the sort of canapé you'd want to be caught attempting at the Christmas party by the cute boy from the accounts department.
Crispy miso salmon cube.
Rather randomly, a dessert follows before we go back to savoury. I have practically no sweet tooth, a fact that seems to annoy other females intensely, until I reassure them that my love of cheese and wine means I'm never going to be a size zero. I digress. This is by Eden Caterers at Ministry of Sound and is a cherry, packed with the flavours of Black Forest Gateau - kirsch, chocolate and cream - without the evil sponge that makes you want to fall asleep before you've even hit the dance floor. Yum.
'Cherry Picking'
Finally, we come to 'A Taste of Autumn.' Again, I feel I should apologise for the picture quality, but this was the last one In this particular batch, and there was someone else eyeing it up, so I had to get in quick. This is "sweet smoked ham and sticky apple skewered on liquorice root and rolled in pork crackling." It tasted like Bonfire night, and I mean that in a good way. Pork and apple is a classic and this didn't fail.
Autumn Classic
Having tasted everything, I nabbed myself another glass of champagne and as there was still more food coming out, I felt it my duty to go and try everything one last time, just to ensure that I was making the correct decision when voting, you understand. I decided how to vote and also that the golden rule of canapés is that they should be small, it is finger food after all. If they are going to be big, they have to be exceptionally good, and here I refer you back to Stratford Old Town Hall, and their veggie option.
So I voted, in no particular order, to quote Strictly Come Dancing, and I gave my votes to Melissa Webb at Hedsor House for the 'Out of the Woods' pigeon, Stratford Old Town Hall for the 'Olun Nengor' taste of Africa and Rotunda for the teriyaki marinated Northumbrian beef. Winners are announced in the Autumn edition of Square Meal and I look forward to seeing these three take the Gold, Silver and Bronze.
www.squaremeal.co.uk
www.melissawebb.com
For Stratford Old Town Hall contact Alison.davenport@newham.gov.uk
www.rotundabarandrestaurant.co.uk
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I snaffle a couple of drinks walking past the stalls and get talking in the queue of fellow judges to a vegetarian teetotaller. Hmmmm, this might not be as fun as first thought. But once we're in the canapé room, I realise that he is pure gold, most of the dishes are not vegetarian, much to his chagrin and my delight, so I eat his as well. I'd like to apologise in advance for the quality of the pictures here, but it's quite difficult to take photos when balancing a glass of champagne, a voting form, a handbag and a pen, all the while trying to avoid someone leaping in and getting their hand in the photo.
Subterranean canapé tasting.
First up is Alistair Hugo, with organic Atlantic salmon, with fennel cream. It's good, but too much fennel, I happen to like fennel, but thought that horseradish cream would have worked better. Gosh, how fussy I am getting in my old age.
Organic Atlantic salmon.
Next up are tiny little parcels of canapé loveliness, the perfect size for finger food, and light too. These little beauties are from the Winter Garden at The Landmark Hotel, and are "fresh tuna and marinated cucumber, rolled in rice paper and topped with sesame seeds and ponzu caviar". They are little bundles of deliciousness.
Yellowfin tuna rice paper roll.
My favourite table for the sheer enthusiasm and positive attitude of the lady manning it is Stratford Old Town Hall. The food is windfall too, and makes my new friend very happy as its pretty much the only veggie dish on offer (I still snaffle two). This is a jollof rice, which I love, black beans and spices rolled in a courgette and served on fried plantain. It's wonderful, and I love the fact that people are commenting on the size, only to be told that Africa doesn't have a tradition of canapés, so eat up!
Odun Nengor "Nice Nice"
London's friendliest lady from Stratford Old Town Hall.
Back to meaty goodness for the next course, and I'm not just talking about the boys in the picture below.
Meaty boys from Rotunda.
This is Rotunda's offering of teriyaki marinated beef, and it's so, so tender, the beef having been hand reared and grass fed, then aged for 32 days. How could anyone be a vegetarian after tasting this? Nice work boys.
Teriyaki marinated Northumbrian beef.
I'm a little disappointed with the next offering. It's from Quince at the May Fair, and sounds like it should be fabulous - " tea smoked duck with scotch quails egg", and while you can taste the slightly gamely quality of the duck, there's nothing of the tea smoke I recognise, and the bread 'soldiers' to scoop out the egg are a bit lacklustre. Next!
Tea smoked duck with scotch quails egg.
Next doesn't let me down. This is by Melissa Webb at Hedsor House (check out the fab yet simple presentation), and it's cured wood pigeon, molasses, beetroot and anise blossom. The flavours work perfectly together and it's autumn in a mouthful, the sweetness of the molasses and beetroot and the gaminess of the duck brought to life by the anise. I love it.
Out of the Woods (and on to my plate) cured wood pigeon.
I think it says a lot about the next offering that there is no photo. It's from the Hippodrome, hardly gourmet central (miaow), and it's six hour cooked beef fillet, with "organic heirloom tomato gazpacho jelly, gin salt crystals, celeriac and wasabi remoulded with brioche dust." There's way too much going on here, the beef tastes nowhere near as good as the offering from Rotunda, and the squares of toasted bread it's served on are soggy. The guy manning the table makes no attempt to engage with the punters, and all in all, it's a bit of lame effort. Proving what I have long thought, that it's not just the food, but the interaction of those cooking and serving it, that makes it all part of the experience of how we enjoy what we're eating.
I confess that I spend a lot of time in Feng Sushi, as they have a branch in Borough Market, near my office, I love sushi, and a now sadly ex-colleague and I used to spend an inordinate amount of time in there gorging on soft shell crab. Their offering is crispy miso salmon cube, and, as the name suggests, it's salmon served on warm rice, with popping salmon eggs and yuzu tobiko (some form of citrusy roe apparently, I had to Google it.) It's pretty good, but way too big, not the sort of canapé you'd want to be caught attempting at the Christmas party by the cute boy from the accounts department.
Crispy miso salmon cube.
Rather randomly, a dessert follows before we go back to savoury. I have practically no sweet tooth, a fact that seems to annoy other females intensely, until I reassure them that my love of cheese and wine means I'm never going to be a size zero. I digress. This is by Eden Caterers at Ministry of Sound and is a cherry, packed with the flavours of Black Forest Gateau - kirsch, chocolate and cream - without the evil sponge that makes you want to fall asleep before you've even hit the dance floor. Yum.
'Cherry Picking'
Finally, we come to 'A Taste of Autumn.' Again, I feel I should apologise for the picture quality, but this was the last one In this particular batch, and there was someone else eyeing it up, so I had to get in quick. This is "sweet smoked ham and sticky apple skewered on liquorice root and rolled in pork crackling." It tasted like Bonfire night, and I mean that in a good way. Pork and apple is a classic and this didn't fail.
Autumn Classic
Having tasted everything, I nabbed myself another glass of champagne and as there was still more food coming out, I felt it my duty to go and try everything one last time, just to ensure that I was making the correct decision when voting, you understand. I decided how to vote and also that the golden rule of canapés is that they should be small, it is finger food after all. If they are going to be big, they have to be exceptionally good, and here I refer you back to Stratford Old Town Hall, and their veggie option.
So I voted, in no particular order, to quote Strictly Come Dancing, and I gave my votes to Melissa Webb at Hedsor House for the 'Out of the Woods' pigeon, Stratford Old Town Hall for the 'Olun Nengor' taste of Africa and Rotunda for the teriyaki marinated Northumbrian beef. Winners are announced in the Autumn edition of Square Meal and I look forward to seeing these three take the Gold, Silver and Bronze.
www.squaremeal.co.uk
www.melissawebb.com
For Stratford Old Town Hall contact Alison.davenport@newham.gov.uk
www.rotundabarandrestaurant.co.uk
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Old Billingsgate Market, London
Monday, 19 August 2013
Monday 19 August: the day I've decided to give up smoking. Having done it successfully before, I feel a fool for even starting again (following a break up from a long term boyfriend), and getting myself hooked.
My reasons for giving up are many and numerous; it's terrible for my health and my wallet, I can't run as far and as fast as I used to, my friends and family hate it (and I in turn hate smoking around their children), that first cigarette of the day makes me feel like shit, I can hear myself wheezing when I wake up, I can't enjoy Breaking Bad because every time Walter starts hacking up, it freaks me out that that will be me in 10 years time. I could go on.
And honestly, does anyone want to come out on the balcony of a morning to this:
I know it's going to be tough, it always is, especially after a few drinks. I've heard it said that one of the greatest pleasures in life is a glass of wine and a cigarette. I can think of many greater pleasures; sunset over the Pacific, galloping on the back of a horse, laughing with friends until you cry, orgasms, being able to really taste food that someone's lovingly cooked for you, moving into a new home, meeting my friends new tiny children for the first time.
So, I'm determined this time. I have my trusty electronic cigarette, and have now put it out there that I'm off the fags. Whatever life throws at me is not stressful enough to keep inhaling a lungful of toxins for.
I'm blogging it in the hope that by doing so I can encourage others around me to do the same (you know who you are!) and the shame of publicly having to admit that I've failed will be enough to keep me off the Marlboros.
This time next week I'll let you know how I've got on, and any and all encouragement is much appreciated!
My reasons for giving up are many and numerous; it's terrible for my health and my wallet, I can't run as far and as fast as I used to, my friends and family hate it (and I in turn hate smoking around their children), that first cigarette of the day makes me feel like shit, I can hear myself wheezing when I wake up, I can't enjoy Breaking Bad because every time Walter starts hacking up, it freaks me out that that will be me in 10 years time. I could go on.
And honestly, does anyone want to come out on the balcony of a morning to this:
I know it's going to be tough, it always is, especially after a few drinks. I've heard it said that one of the greatest pleasures in life is a glass of wine and a cigarette. I can think of many greater pleasures; sunset over the Pacific, galloping on the back of a horse, laughing with friends until you cry, orgasms, being able to really taste food that someone's lovingly cooked for you, moving into a new home, meeting my friends new tiny children for the first time.
So, I'm determined this time. I have my trusty electronic cigarette, and have now put it out there that I'm off the fags. Whatever life throws at me is not stressful enough to keep inhaling a lungful of toxins for.
I'm blogging it in the hope that by doing so I can encourage others around me to do the same (you know who you are!) and the shame of publicly having to admit that I've failed will be enough to keep me off the Marlboros.
This time next week I'll let you know how I've got on, and any and all encouragement is much appreciated!
Monday, 12 August 2013
Lily in vintage
I went to a hen night in Brighton on Saturday night and met this lovely lady, with a great sense of style, wearing this fabulous piece of vintage.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, 9 August 2013
Restaurant Story
A couple of months ago, a friend and I were walking up Tooley Street when we happened across a sauna-esque glass and wood building with no name. Investigations were undertaken back in the office and we found it that it was Restaurant Story, raved about as London's hottest new restaurant. We don't actually care about such things, all we knew was that they served a ten course tasting menu and are staggering distance from our place of work. So, the table was booked (for two months in advance), and we settled into a state of heady anticipation.
I confess, I wasn't going to blog about Story. I had planned to go, enjoy myself, not take photos and have a bit too much to drink. After all, ten courses, two loveable rogues, and an afternoon off work, what could possibly go wrong?
But the food was so beautiful, and so gorgeously presented that I found myself taking pictures. And wanting to write about it.
The ten course tasting menu:
We got cocktailed up and settled in. And then the food started coming. Tiny little gorgeous mouthfuls of amuse bouches, including an incredible crisply fried cod skin and the beautiful peas and truffle pictured below.
Upon being seated, the waitress had bought over and lit a candle at the table and we'd noted that it smelt ever so slightly garlicky and then thought nothing else of it. Until out came the sourdough bread and we were informed that the candle was in fact the dripping in the bread and dripping course: genius! It's tastes fantastic too, as indeed that much fat should.
Nick puts on his American anchorman face for the bread and dripping photo.
Caramelised gorgeous blackened onions and sweet apricots follow, then on to the scallops, at which point the whole table went quiet with the appreciation of perfectly mingled flavours, fresh shellfish and dill ash. Please note the beauty of the presentation, in particular the tiny courgette, complete with flower.
Onto the mackerel and carrots. Lots of carrots: Tiny baby carrots, slivers of carrot, carrot tops, fish poached in carrot juice. The sweetness of the carrots works perfectly with the oiliness of the mackerel. More appreciative silence, broken with the occasional 'oh wow'.
The next course is my favourite, and I never thought I'd say that about mashed potato. Newmarket potatoes, with dandelion butter and charcoal oil, served with broad beans. It's rich, creamy, interesting and just perfect. I want a whole plate of it.
A little palette cleanser is next up, beetroot, raspberries and horseradish, simple and straightforward, even though the horseradish is a white powder that gives a delightful tingle in the nose (ahem).
The veal is next and it's slightly overdone, but we still wolf it down, even though we're seven courses in by this point.
The come the desserts, which I can't write about, because not having a sweet tooth and being somewhat full, I didn't eat them. I sip a glass of dessert wine and watch the boys wolf their own, and then my, puddings. They tell me they are excellent.
This is fantastic cooking, done really well and using seasonal products without being pretentious about it. It's quirky and fun, such as in the case of the dripping candle and the horseradish powder, and I loved it. We'll definitely be going back as the menu changes from high summer into autumn. Oh, and if that's not enough to inspire you, you can see the chefs cooking in the kitchen. And they are rather hot......
I confess, I wasn't going to blog about Story. I had planned to go, enjoy myself, not take photos and have a bit too much to drink. After all, ten courses, two loveable rogues, and an afternoon off work, what could possibly go wrong?
But the food was so beautiful, and so gorgeously presented that I found myself taking pictures. And wanting to write about it.
The ten course tasting menu:
We got cocktailed up and settled in. And then the food started coming. Tiny little gorgeous mouthfuls of amuse bouches, including an incredible crisply fried cod skin and the beautiful peas and truffle pictured below.
Upon being seated, the waitress had bought over and lit a candle at the table and we'd noted that it smelt ever so slightly garlicky and then thought nothing else of it. Until out came the sourdough bread and we were informed that the candle was in fact the dripping in the bread and dripping course: genius! It's tastes fantastic too, as indeed that much fat should.
Nick puts on his American anchorman face for the bread and dripping photo.
Caramelised gorgeous blackened onions and sweet apricots follow, then on to the scallops, at which point the whole table went quiet with the appreciation of perfectly mingled flavours, fresh shellfish and dill ash. Please note the beauty of the presentation, in particular the tiny courgette, complete with flower.
Onto the mackerel and carrots. Lots of carrots: Tiny baby carrots, slivers of carrot, carrot tops, fish poached in carrot juice. The sweetness of the carrots works perfectly with the oiliness of the mackerel. More appreciative silence, broken with the occasional 'oh wow'.
The next course is my favourite, and I never thought I'd say that about mashed potato. Newmarket potatoes, with dandelion butter and charcoal oil, served with broad beans. It's rich, creamy, interesting and just perfect. I want a whole plate of it.
A little palette cleanser is next up, beetroot, raspberries and horseradish, simple and straightforward, even though the horseradish is a white powder that gives a delightful tingle in the nose (ahem).
The veal is next and it's slightly overdone, but we still wolf it down, even though we're seven courses in by this point.
The come the desserts, which I can't write about, because not having a sweet tooth and being somewhat full, I didn't eat them. I sip a glass of dessert wine and watch the boys wolf their own, and then my, puddings. They tell me they are excellent.
This is fantastic cooking, done really well and using seasonal products without being pretentious about it. It's quirky and fun, such as in the case of the dripping candle and the horseradish powder, and I loved it. We'll definitely be going back as the menu changes from high summer into autumn. Oh, and if that's not enough to inspire you, you can see the chefs cooking in the kitchen. And they are rather hot......
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Falling down the rabbit hole
Afternoon tea? How civilised and lovely, a chance to get dressed up and pretend its the '50's again, or some other impossibly glamorous era, where women wouldn't dream of leaving the house without a hat or stockings.
My lovely friend Sabine (who has featured on these pages before) was over from her new home of Tennessee and requested the pleasure of my company for afternoon tea.
A caveat here: I am not a big fan of sweet food, so afternoon tea is always a bit hit and miss for me. But I loved this one, a modern twist on the Mad Hatters tea party from Alice in Wonderland, at the Sanderson Hotel.
Despite a rain lashed June (welcome to London) we arrived and sat outside, albeit under plastic awnings.
We're given the tea leaves to smell in individual jars, I pick the strawberries and cream, and Sabine goes for the rhubarb and custard. The lovely waitress asks if we're upgrading to the champagne afternoon tea. Of course we are, what a ridiculous question.
While we're happily quaffing our champagne, the tea arrives. I love strawberries and cream tea, could drink it by the pint, and proceed to do so. Check out the adorable Alice themed crockery, available to buy there, which I would have done had I had more than two glasses.
And then the food arrives. It's a total OMG moment. We're told what everything is and how it's all edible, and then I get stuck into the sandwiches in the hope that by carb loading and drinking fizz, I can shake off the last vestiges of a mild hangover.
But sandwiches are not the purpose of afternoon tea, a welcome addition though they are. Sandwiches are the sort of thing you can buy in Marks and Spencer. The real beauties are the cakes. And there are two of everything, this avoiding that very British "you have it, no, no, you" scenario.
These sweets are pretty darn fine (high praise from lack of sweet toothed me). I'm not overly fussed on the edible chocolate pot with green tea mousse, but that's a personal choice of not liking green tea. And I confess to not trying the Victoria sponge cake in the shape of a clock, or the sweet scones, although I manage to force a savoury one down.
But this little beauty is my particular favourite. The stripy outside is edible white chocolate, the inside is vanilla cheesecake and there's an 'egg yoke' of mango purée encased in the mousse, just waiting to be broken open with a spoon. It is DIVINE.
To round the calorie extravaganza off, there's also a little sugary potion, entitled 'drink me'. Even I can manage this, despite being stuffed to the gills.
By the end of the afternoon, we can't actually move. We both agree that the tea was excellent value for money at £45 including a glass of champagne, although our bill might have been slightly higher as we may have had more than one glass of champagne. We stagger off to Oxford Street, far too full to try on any clothes and vowing to never eat again.
www.sandersonlondon.com
My lovely friend Sabine (who has featured on these pages before) was over from her new home of Tennessee and requested the pleasure of my company for afternoon tea.
A caveat here: I am not a big fan of sweet food, so afternoon tea is always a bit hit and miss for me. But I loved this one, a modern twist on the Mad Hatters tea party from Alice in Wonderland, at the Sanderson Hotel.
Despite a rain lashed June (welcome to London) we arrived and sat outside, albeit under plastic awnings.
We're given the tea leaves to smell in individual jars, I pick the strawberries and cream, and Sabine goes for the rhubarb and custard. The lovely waitress asks if we're upgrading to the champagne afternoon tea. Of course we are, what a ridiculous question.
While we're happily quaffing our champagne, the tea arrives. I love strawberries and cream tea, could drink it by the pint, and proceed to do so. Check out the adorable Alice themed crockery, available to buy there, which I would have done had I had more than two glasses.
And then the food arrives. It's a total OMG moment. We're told what everything is and how it's all edible, and then I get stuck into the sandwiches in the hope that by carb loading and drinking fizz, I can shake off the last vestiges of a mild hangover.
But sandwiches are not the purpose of afternoon tea, a welcome addition though they are. Sandwiches are the sort of thing you can buy in Marks and Spencer. The real beauties are the cakes. And there are two of everything, this avoiding that very British "you have it, no, no, you" scenario.
These sweets are pretty darn fine (high praise from lack of sweet toothed me). I'm not overly fussed on the edible chocolate pot with green tea mousse, but that's a personal choice of not liking green tea. And I confess to not trying the Victoria sponge cake in the shape of a clock, or the sweet scones, although I manage to force a savoury one down.
But this little beauty is my particular favourite. The stripy outside is edible white chocolate, the inside is vanilla cheesecake and there's an 'egg yoke' of mango purée encased in the mousse, just waiting to be broken open with a spoon. It is DIVINE.
To round the calorie extravaganza off, there's also a little sugary potion, entitled 'drink me'. Even I can manage this, despite being stuffed to the gills.
By the end of the afternoon, we can't actually move. We both agree that the tea was excellent value for money at £45 including a glass of champagne, although our bill might have been slightly higher as we may have had more than one glass of champagne. We stagger off to Oxford Street, far too full to try on any clothes and vowing to never eat again.
www.sandersonlondon.com
Location:The Sanderson Hotel, London
What I've been up to instead of writing this blog
Just busy jumping out of aeroplanes in New Zealand. As you do.
Last October, I took a sabbatical from work and my friend Vicky and I travelled the world: 16 countries, 5 months and one hell of an adventure. You can read about it here: www.justalittletriparoundtheglobe.blogspot.com
I'm now back in London, doing loads of fun stuff, which I'll be blogging about. Thanks for reading and posts will follow shortly......
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Last October, I took a sabbatical from work and my friend Vicky and I travelled the world: 16 countries, 5 months and one hell of an adventure. You can read about it here: www.justalittletriparoundtheglobe.blogspot.com
I'm now back in London, doing loads of fun stuff, which I'll be blogging about. Thanks for reading and posts will follow shortly......
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, 1 September 2012
Liking this American boy...
Call me a food snob (I've been called worse), but I never expected one of the best meals of my life to be in Miami. New York maybe. Or The French Laundry in the Napa Valley. But stumbling across Barton G The Restaurant made me one very happy lady indeed.
The girls and I hit Florida for sunbathing, Miami vice cocktails and general partying early in July. It was hot, hot, hot. We were perusing Time Out as to where to have dinner on Saturday night and found the recommendation for Barton G The Restaurant. It was the description of the shrimp popcorn that sold us. So we booked a table, dressed up to the nines and headed off into the sweltering Miami evening.
We arrive by taxi, sadly not by flash sports car, as many of the other clientele seem to do. The staff couldn't be sweeter, and as the garden a) looks beautiful and b) has air conditioning in the form of spray pumps, we opt to sit outside. Our menu is bought to us. On an i-pad. So cool!
A civilised meal always starts with a cocktail. It's a known fact. And although Barton G serves 'normal' cocktails, we're in the mood for something different. So we have the nitrogen cocktails. And they are am-az-ing. The Buddhalicious is pear vodka, lychee and cranberry juice, with a nitrogenised popsicle (ice lolly in the UK!) of pear vodka. It is as delicious as it is potent. And it is served with a buddha on the side. What more could you want?
We then share a starter of shrimp popcorn - exactly as stated, it's popcorn, served in a retro cinema box, with the addition of breaded 'popcorn' shrimp. It's cute, quirky and delicious and we quickly devour the lot.
While we are awaiting our main courses, we start to notice that very interesting things are happening at the table in front of us. Giant forks are appearing all over the place and we are fascinated. We enquire, and are told that the hen party at the table are having surf and turf, and it's served on a board with an enormous fork as the decoration. It all gets a bit Alice in Wonderland at this point as the cocktails start to take hold, and we notice that several tables are being served their food with the most fantastically presented plates. When ours arrive, we are not disappointed.
I order the Lighthouse lobster because I love it and because it feels right, being so close to the ocean. Plus it's served with lobster creamed corn, lobster fritters and asparagus - just a few of my favourite things! I don't pay much attention to the 'lighthouse' element of the dish, until the lobster arrives. In a lighthouse.
The thought and presentation that has gone into these dishes is just outstanding. Not only is the food sublime (more about that later) but the sheer imagination that has gone into creating the dishes and serving them at the table is incredible.
I steal a bit of the calamari and it lives up to expectations, soft on the inside (hand up, who hates rubbery squid?) and the salad is great - masses of coriander, my favourite herb, and beautifully fresh and zingy, dressed with lime and ginger. I also nab myself some of Sabine's dish of Blooming sea bass, steamed to perfection and served in a paper bag to keep the fish perfect until the bag is cut open. Wonderful. The bass is also served with a riot of garden flowers, which leads to much debate about whether they are edible or not.
Back to me. I am eating the world's hugest lobster tail, cooked in butter and just perfect, fresh tasting, meaty, everything lobster should be. The croquettes are great, but the real star of the side dishes is the lobster creamed corn. It's the perfect accompaniment, sweet, creamy, and utterly moreish. I am in heaven. Writing this now, I am struggling to portray it without sounding like Anastasia Steele in 50 Shades of Grey describing an orgasm (and that is NOT a good thing). Needless to say, I stuff myself silly and can't finish it all, in fact I have to be told to STOP EATING, it's that good.
We are asked if we want to see the desert menu. Despite the fact that I can barely move by this point, we have a look. The desserts look just as amazing as the rest of the menu, and I am particularly drawn to the Big Top Cotton Candy, but alas, can only manage a photo - I am too full to eat another mouthful.
Declining a digestif, we ask for the bill and it is here I have a minor heart attack. The lobster was market price on the menu and has set me back $125. Ouch. The girls spend the rest of the holiday teasing me about how I spent so much money on a lobster, but it's good natured and quite frankly, it was worth every penny.
http://www.bartong.com/restaurants/
http://www.timeout.com/miami/restaurants-cafes/venue/1%3A2674/barton-g-the-restaurant
The girls and I hit Florida for sunbathing, Miami vice cocktails and general partying early in July. It was hot, hot, hot. We were perusing Time Out as to where to have dinner on Saturday night and found the recommendation for Barton G The Restaurant. It was the description of the shrimp popcorn that sold us. So we booked a table, dressed up to the nines and headed off into the sweltering Miami evening.
We arrive by taxi, sadly not by flash sports car, as many of the other clientele seem to do. The staff couldn't be sweeter, and as the garden a) looks beautiful and b) has air conditioning in the form of spray pumps, we opt to sit outside. Our menu is bought to us. On an i-pad. So cool!
 |
| The i-pad that is our menu for the evening. |
 |
| Buddhalicious, baby. |
We then share a starter of shrimp popcorn - exactly as stated, it's popcorn, served in a retro cinema box, with the addition of breaded 'popcorn' shrimp. It's cute, quirky and delicious and we quickly devour the lot.
 |
| Giant forks for the surf and turf. |
The thought and presentation that has gone into these dishes is just outstanding. Not only is the food sublime (more about that later) but the sheer imagination that has gone into creating the dishes and serving them at the table is incredible.
 |
| Lighthouse lobster. |
 |
| The friendly waiter removes the shell from my lobster tail. |
My companions food arrives in an equally stunning fashion - though I think mine is the most impressive! Amy opts for the salt and pepper calamari, served with the most enormous salt shaker.
 |
| Salting it up. |
 |
| More salt, anyone? |
I steal a bit of the calamari and it lives up to expectations, soft on the inside (hand up, who hates rubbery squid?) and the salad is great - masses of coriander, my favourite herb, and beautifully fresh and zingy, dressed with lime and ginger. I also nab myself some of Sabine's dish of Blooming sea bass, steamed to perfection and served in a paper bag to keep the fish perfect until the bag is cut open. Wonderful. The bass is also served with a riot of garden flowers, which leads to much debate about whether they are edible or not.
 |
| Sabine and the sea bass |
 |
| So pretty! |
Back to me. I am eating the world's hugest lobster tail, cooked in butter and just perfect, fresh tasting, meaty, everything lobster should be. The croquettes are great, but the real star of the side dishes is the lobster creamed corn. It's the perfect accompaniment, sweet, creamy, and utterly moreish. I am in heaven. Writing this now, I am struggling to portray it without sounding like Anastasia Steele in 50 Shades of Grey describing an orgasm (and that is NOT a good thing). Needless to say, I stuff myself silly and can't finish it all, in fact I have to be told to STOP EATING, it's that good.
We are asked if we want to see the desert menu. Despite the fact that I can barely move by this point, we have a look. The desserts look just as amazing as the rest of the menu, and I am particularly drawn to the Big Top Cotton Candy, but alas, can only manage a photo - I am too full to eat another mouthful.
Declining a digestif, we ask for the bill and it is here I have a minor heart attack. The lobster was market price on the menu and has set me back $125. Ouch. The girls spend the rest of the holiday teasing me about how I spent so much money on a lobster, but it's good natured and quite frankly, it was worth every penny.
http://www.bartong.com/restaurants/
http://www.timeout.com/miami/restaurants-cafes/venue/1%3A2674/barton-g-the-restaurant
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