Spain - tapas extravangza and a wild wedding!

Continuing my gastro tour of Europe, we flew to Spain a fortnight ago for a friend's wedding. It was so good, and we partied so hard that it's taken nearly a fortnight for me to get back to normal and start blogging.

We landed in Seville and saw the (very impressive) cathedral before heading off into the blazing sunshine on a hunt for tapas. Because the heat had addled our brains, we couldn't find Las Teresas, the tapas bar we wanted to eat at,  so made the foolish error of eating in the main tourist area - on the Plaza Virgen de los Reyes, at a tapas bar called El Giradillo. Big mistake. The food was OK-ish (not good enough in a city renowned for its tapas), but the service was dreadful. We left having paid the (incorrect) bill and went exploring to see if we could better our first Sevillian tapas experience.

And we did. We found the beautiful Plaza de la Alianza, and within in the tapas bar that (I think) was called the Cafe Alianza. The first of several rounds of tinto de verano was ordered - 'safer' than sangria as it doesn't contain brandy - and we asked for jamon, boqurones and were recommended the pigs cheek by the waitress. All were fabulous and a very pleasant hour was spent drinking in the pleasant surroundings, happily munching on tapas, knocking back the tinto de verano and saying hi to the passing priests.

Tim showing off the tinto di verano and jamon.

Jamon

Pigs cheek



Boquerones

 Then we headed off to Arcos de la Frontera more more eating and drinking and a pre-wedding fiesta. On Friday night in the village of Arcos, the locals in conjunction with the church organise a procession of the Virgin Mary, the town's patron saint. All the wedding guests holed up in a tapas bar to watch the procession go past.

The statue is borne along by 30 young men.



And here she is close up.

 During the fiesta, we drank an awful lot of this:

Tinto de verano

And gorged ourselves on plenty of this:

Manchego cheese, prawns, jamon, chorizo.

And then the day of the wedding arrived and the bride and groom both looked utterly gorgeous:

Mr and Mrs Argent

As did several of the guests, particularly Tim in his beautiful pistachio trousers (with me):

We were fed amazingly well on a variety of tapas, which I was too busy getting stuck into to photograph, but I did manage to take some pictures of the wedding dinner:

Beautiful place sitting and liking the four wine glasses!

The evening dinner took place in an olive grove, which was simply beautiful:

And the food was wonderful:

Salmorejo - like gazpacho, but better.



More pork!



Lemon tart pie with summer fruits.

Following dinner we partied long and hard into the night, culminating in a 5am skinny dip. Fortunately, there are no photos of this - none that I'd care to share anyway!

So, thank you to Mr and Mrs Argent for inviting us to their wonderful wedding. You guys know how to throw one hell of a party.

Weekend of Gluttony - Part Two.

It's the Saturday morning after the Friday night of copious Italian food and wine. It's sunny, my head hurts a little, and I have to get on a horse. My friend Amy tells me the best cure for a hangover is a horse ride and you know what, she's right. But I would add to that, the best cure for a hangover is a horse ride, half a bottle of Bollinger (once safely dismounted of course) and lunch at Petersham Nurseries.

This is not, contrary to what you may think, a typical Saturday for me. We are riding, and drinking Bollinger at lunchtime and eating at Petersham because it is my friend Vicky's birthday, and we managed to score a table for lunch a month ago. And we are not disappointed by what we find.

The beautiful setting of Petersham Nurseries Cafe.

We start with an aperitif of Petersham rose syrup and rose petal Prosecco. Not too sweet, and with crystallised rose petals which we are delighted to find that you can eat, this makes the perfect pre-wine accompaniment to perusing the menu.

Petersham Rose Syrup and Rose Petal Prosecco

We then move onto the starters and I have the first of many outstanding dishes, courgette flowers with Sairas Ricotta, Borage and mint and basil dressing:

Rod Liddle wrote in this week's Sunday Times Style magazine that he would stab anyone with a fork if they tried to share some of his food in a restaurant, and if they offered him some of theirs. Fortunately, we are sharers and are trying each others food. Birthday girl makes the best call on the starters menu and has salad of tomatoes, nectarine, mozzarella, San Daniele and basil oil. This sounds so simple, but the ingredients are so perfect, so fresh and come together so brilliantly, that although my courgette flowers are very good, I have minor sulk that I didn't order this instead:

Pretty much without fail, I always choose the most expensive dish from the main courses. It's a running joke in my family. Today is no exception, with the salt baked Cornish turbot, potatoes, broad beans, spinach and mayonnaise at £35.50. It is eye wateringly expensively, but very much worth it, soft tasty fish, beautiful, fresh broad beans, new potatoes and an incredibly light mayonnaise:

And the birthday girl has the scallops, roasted red pepper rocket and marjoram salmoriglio, which are also fabulous:

 Rosé in the sunshine at Petersham Nurseries. In the background you can just see our waitress - helpful, funny, friendly and polite, is there anything not lovely about this place!:

Dessert next and we opt to share a summer pudding; the slice is so vast that I dream they have a huge summer pudding in the kitchen. Needless to say, it's faultless:

We end with cheese - the wrong way round I feel - it should always be cheese first then pudding - but it's what the birthday girl wants and I can't argue with someone whose birthday it is. And it's actually a really nice end to the meal, served with a glass of chilled red wine. The cheese is Pecorino Canestrato from Sardinia, with honey:

The birthday girl on the left and me on the right:

We have a little post lunch stroll around the nurseries in the blazing sunshine.

And I cool my wine hot feet in the fountain:

We overhear a customer saying it's a shame that it's more about the restaurant than the nurseries now. I'm afraid I have to disagree - the fact that the food is sourced locally, using vegetables and plants from the nursery where possible, means that both the nurseries and the restaurant compliment each other. And the draw of the restaurant, means that they've got a willing and captive audience to shop for plants post lunch.   This place really deserves its recently acquired Michelin Star and the food being cooked is of such a high standard and in such a beautiful location that it's a strong contestor for Lunch of the Year 2011.  

Weekend of Gluttony - Part One.

Having love-bombed the French last week, this week it's the turn of the Italians to feel some glam girl love. Just doing my bit for Euro-relations in these troubled economic times.

Six of us ate at Al Boccon d'vino in Richmond. It was a big raucous Italian love in, with the restaurant rammed and no menu - you get what you're given. I was half an hour late (thank you South West Trains) but when I arrived I was poured a much needed glass of Prosecco and on we cracked with the food.

The second plate (but my first owing to lateness) was a sort of antipasto plate, with Parma ham on the side for you to help yourself. This contained mozzarella, crostini with tomatoes, a tomato stuffed with tuna and the amazing paste on crostini at the back of the picture, the best way I can think of describing this is an aged Parmesan 'hummus'. I did ask what it was, only to be told 'cheese' - fair enough.

Antipasto



Scoffing the Parma Ham.


Next came the only dud course (I'm gutted to have to mention this so early), deep fried chicken with a strange, hundred thousand island type sauce. I can't face putting the picture I took up on the blog because it looks so unpleasant. Moving swiftly on to the lovely meatballs - one each in a yummy tomato sauce and perfect for keeping the appetite whetted:

Next course please! An outstandingly good parmagiana melanzana, aubergine cooked perfectly, soft but not squidgy, layered with tomato and covered in Parmesan.

Then on to the start of the fish course - a single, grilled scallop, also cooked to perfection:

Followed by a big bowl of calamari and prawns for the table to share (being shown off by Sean) :

Then a plate of carpaccio, dressed with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and a very finely sliced truffle, which we watched them slicing behind us, salivating (us, not them):

Then the first of the pasta courses, which I had to post three pictures of because it was a)  a bloody fabulous mushroomy, cheesy, buttery plate of gorgeousness and b) served in a hollowed out Parmesan wheel:

Then the second pasta course, a light, ricotta filled, tomato sauce swathed single ravioli:

Then the piece de resistance, the owner brings out a whole roasted suckling pig, and proudly shows it around the restaurant:

Before we all tuck in to the juicy, sweet, meat: 

After these nine courses, I must confess to being very full and more than a little drunk. I think the pictures below demonstrate this adequately: 

Me with the owner in his car outside the restaurant - I promise that nothing untoward took place! 

Me with man in a dress and friend. I have no idea who they are or why they were at the restaurant.

So although there was dessert, and I did take a photo of it, I can't for the life of me remember what it was - ideas on a postcard (or by other more modern means) please: 

So, to sum up, this was a fantastic night out. For a group of friends or a big family gathering it's perfect. They recommend you don't go if you're fussy eater - all the better for those who like me, will eat pretty much anything.  All that food costs just £40, which I think is outstanding value. Make sure you go on an empty stomach, and with a sense of fun and a willingness to be entertained and you'll love it. We're going back in November to see what the menu then will bring us, and in the meantime, I'm continuing my Grand Tour of Food with a trip to Spain next weekend. 

Fabulous France, first class food, fantastic wine

I love the French. I love the fact that they treat mealtimes like marriage; 'not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly'.  OK, maybe not soberly. I love the fact that the supermarkets tend to only stock French wine, the daily markets that sell fresh, ready to eat produce, the regionality of the food - Bresse chicken, beef from the Limousin - and the pride that the French take in their food.

So needless to say, when I went to the Dordogne recently, I ate extremely well. This is a region famous for geese, ducks and that delicious delicacy foie gras. I'm fully aware that some people have a real problem with foie gras so let's get this issue off my chest now. I don't have a problem with it at all and I love the stuff.  I have been to see the geese being 'force' fed and they are calm, free range, placid creatures who happily waddle forth to be fed. Banning the practice (which is incidentally what the Nazis did during Occupation because they thought it 'cruel') is only going to force the whole thing underground, leading to geese being cooped up rather than being free range and unhygienic feeding and killing practices as the farmers try to conceal what they are doing from the authorities.

Anyway, rant over and back to the food. We ate in a great little restaurant in Domme that served traditional French food using spices - I had prawns with a mildly curried sauce to start:

Then foie gras four ways (I know -so greedy!) as my main course, which was just incredible. Check out the shot glass of jellied Montbazillac as an accompaniment:

I was so, so full after this that I had to abandon the cheese plate - although I did steal some of my boy's cheese, which was great - they have my favourite goats cheese Rocamadour on tap in this part of the world:

And I settled myself with some sorbet - such beautiful presentation:

I've already mentioned the food markets, Sarlat market being one we had to get up astonishingly early on a Saturday morning for. But it was well worth it - hundreds of stalling selling garlic, fruit, vegetables, terrines, pates, cassoulet and wine. And the smell is just incredible - fresh ripe melons, nectarines, apricots and peaches, ready to take home and eat that day.

Browsing a stall selling what looked like candied figs, we got chatting with the guy behind the stall, who urged up to try his produce. He cut a slice of the fig and we tasted it, only to discover it was stuffed with foie gras. Heaven. We were chatting to the producer when I found a glass of dessert wine being thrust in my face and was urged to try it with the figs. At 9:30am in the morning. But hell, I was on holiday so my breakfast that morning ended up being a foie gras stuffed fig and a glass of Saussignac. And very nice it was too:

Later in the week we also visited the market at St Cyprien to buy fish from the stall there - check out the incredible selection:

Which gave us the opportunity to gawp at the guys making huge pans of paella for hungry shoppers and stall holders:

These beautiful prawns are that evening's dinner, fresh from the stall above:

Another great dish of the region which you'll find on pretty much every menu there is Salade Perigourdine. Salad leaves, expertly dressed of course, with duck gezers, stuffed goose neck, foie gras, and smoked duck. Always best when eaten outside accompanied by a pichet of rose wine.

When we ate where we were staying, we were lucky enough to have potatoes fresh from the earth, dug up by my father:

And an incredible summer pudding, using those fresh fruits that smelled so good at the market, lovingly handmade by my mother:

The last night we were there, we ate at Le Bistro de l'Octroi - I stupidly left my camera at home - where there was yet more foie gras, and then steak tartare charolais, followed by plate of nine different sample sizes of the puddings they offer - to share, had I attempted it alone I think I would have literally exploded.  After that, I had to say goodbye and head back to the UK - thoroughly contented and several pounds heavier.