Monday 12 February 2024

On grief

We lost our beloved Minx Cat last week. 

When I say lost, obviously I don't mean misplaced. She wasn't the kind of cat to blend into the surroundings. Nor was she very good at hiding (always a tail or a paw poking out to give her away).

And I suppose the phrase is, we had her put to sleep. Or Put to Sleep, with respectful capitalisation. But I'm not sure I like that either because, however hard I keep wishing, she isn't going to wake up and come wandering down the stairs for a cuddle and some treats.

She featured a lot in this blog over the years, so I felt it only right that she got one final post. I wish I could come up with something more profound to say. I miss her so much and I will always have a Minx shaped hole in my heart.

Thursday 20 July 2023

A few days in Scotland

We've had a spate of holidays recently, which has been lovely, although the diary now stretches empty ahead of us until the back end of October. Sigh. Still, my digestion, liver and credit card all definitely need a bit of a rest, so I am hoping for some decent weather over the next few months so I can take up residence on our new outdoor decking and dedicate myself wholeheartedly to drinking tea and catching up with my Goodreads Reading Challenge.

The two "big" meals I will cover in a separate post, but in between the Michelin star, high-end deliciousness we still managed some excellent eating.

Firstly, we spent a quiet few days on the shores of Loch Fyne and, of course, we had to eat oysters at every given opportunity:


I also made it a personal goal to get thoroughly stuck in to the local venison; putting away both a loin, cooked to absolute blush-pink perfection:


And haunch shredded into a tender heap and piled into fabulously messy tacos:


Then to Glasgow, and my first lunch in the city found me sampling my first ever vegan burger - do you know, I really enjoyed it. It didn't have quite the mouthfeel of meat but the taste was rich and savoury. I will never be other than a carnivore, but I certainly wouldn't argue if someone served me up one of these in future. The beetroot bun wasn't quite up to the task of containing everything though, so I did end up eating it with a knife and fork. The shame.


We were primarily in Glasgow to go the TRNSMT festival and we were primarily at the TRNSMT festival to see Pulp play. What we learned while we were there: we are old. Festivals are not for the likes of us, even if we were of an age where we remembered the headline act being in the charts (as opposed to the majority of the audience who WEREN'T EVEN BORN IN THE 90s). The food and drink at the festival itself was not great, which, when you consider the amazing boom in street food vendors over the last few years was rather disappointing. Still, we consoled ourselves the following day with a meal at Glasgow stalwart, The Ubiquitous Chip. More venison, this time in the form of haggis (here hidden under a veil of swede and gravy):


And, of particular note, a couple of excellent desserts. D's peanut butter parfait with milk chocolate and yoghurt sorbet:


And my mango and passionfruit Rum Baba (not quite enough rum for my tastes, but forgiven since it was bursting with zingy tropical flavours):

Wednesday 21 June 2023

Recipe corner: maritozzi (Roman cream buns)

It's been a good few weeks since we got back from Rome and we still find ourselves talking frequently about the trip, which is probably a sign that a) it was a good holiday and b) we need to get ourselves back there as soon as ever we can. Which, unless someone wins the lottery, is unlikely to be this year. So, in the meantime, we console ourselves with glorious Italian food.

This weekend, I made maritozzi, which are light, sweet buns split and filled with whipped cream. One restaurant we went to also served a savoury version wherein the buns were split and filled with whipped anchovy butter. As rich as it sounds. For mine, I made two versions - one where the sweetened cream was rippled through with raspberry puree and another where it was combined with the sweet pistachio paste that I brought home from Rome. But, really, the world is absolutely your oyster here. 

The buns themselves are a lovely texture managing to be both light and robust, and while they are sweet they are not overly so; I split one and had it toasted with butter and jam and that was also delicious. I suppose they are tending towards the brioche, but slightly less rich.

Chef's note one: I baked a test batch for 20 minutes and they were beginning to dry out, 18 was perfect. But, it's always worth starting to test slightly early. For an enriched dough like this one, you want the internal temperature to be between about 90 and 93 degrees to ensure they're cooked.

Chef's note two: I never have whole milk in, we are skimmed all the way in this house. So, after a bit of research online, I discovered that I could combine 290ml of skimmed milk with 2 tsp of double cream which should achieve around the same fat content as whole milk.

Chef's note three: you could make these the night before and leave to prove in the fridge. Ensure that they come to room temperature before baking. Having said that, they seem to last extremely well in a sealed container.

Ingredients

300ml whole milk (see note above)
530g strong white bread flour
1 tbsp fast action dried yeast
1/2 tsp salt
1 medium egg yolk
70g runny honey
60ml olive oil (plus extra for greasing)

Makes 10 buns

Pour the milk into a small saucepan. Whisk together the honey and the olive oil. Place the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook and break in the egg yolk.

Set the saucepan of milk over a low heat and bring it up to a low heat (the best way to test this is with a clean finger. It should not feel too hot to the touch). When the milk is warm, whisk in the honey and oil mix. Turn the stand mixer on to a low speed, and, when the egg is incorporated, start to pour in the liquid.

Once everything is added, and the dough is coming together, whack the speed up a couple of notches and knead for 7 mins (note: if you're doing this by hand it may well take longer. Be aware that this is quite a soft, sticky dough and a mixer is preferable if at all possible).

Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl, cover and leave to prove for 60 - 90 minutes, or overnight in the fridge.

When making the buns, divide the dough into 10 equal pieces, shape into balls and place on two lined baking trays. Prove for a further 30 minutes, switching the oven on to 180 around 10 minutes before you are ready to bake to ensure it is up to temperature. Bake these for around 18 - 20 minutes, turning the trays round halfway through if the temperature distribution in your oven is uneven.

Once cooled, these can be split and served with any sweetened, flavoured cream filling of your choice. 

Fresh from the oven

Scruffily filled with raspberry cream

Wednesday 14 June 2023

Recipe corner: labneh with roasted tenderstem broccoli

Of COURSE it was the case that on one of the hottest days of the year I should have planned an evening meal that required a lot of time spent cooking. Just as on a similarly warm day a few weeks ago, I went to a pastry making class (at Betty’s Cookery School and it was tremendous fun, albeit attempting flaky pastry in 20 degree plus heat is rather messy). My sense of timing has always been admirable. 

Anyway, last Saturday night we had sort-of mezze. I say sort of because the dishes and flavours were taken from a range of cuisines and thrown together in what I would like to think was a fusion (rather than confusion) of gastronomic experiences. But I fully concede I might be deluded on that point; never let it be said I achieve authenticity in my cooking. 

We had D’s amazing Merguez sausages, roasted and served with a simple houmous and a few whole chickpeas for texture. We had Ottolenghi’s iman bayaldi, a stewed aubergine dish that I’ve been meaning to make for ages. We had za’tar flatbreads. And we had roasted broccoli on labneh. 



So, this latter dish was inspired by two things; a perusal of the original Moro cookbook, and a starter I ate at the late, lamented Reliance sometime last year. (For those not au fait with the Leeds pub scene, The Reliance was a fantastic gastropub and Leeds institution, and the menu was magic for interesting vegetable based dishes).

Even if you don’t try this particular combination, I’d urge you to give labneh a go - so easy and SO delicious. It found it to be similar in taste and texture to Boursin cheese; my next batch I am going to combine with cracked black pepper and smear all over a baguette. 

Ingredients

For the labneh (first stage):

300g full fat Greek yoghurt
Generous pinch of salt

(Second stage):

Small clove of garlic
Spring onion, finely chopped
Salt and plenty of black pepper

For the garnish:

100g trimmed tenderstem broccoli spears
Tbsp olive oil (plus extra for garnish)
Tbsp flaked almonds
1-2 tbsp pickled jalapeño chillis, roughly chopped (optional)

Serves 2 as part of a mezze spread or side dish

Making labneh is incredibly easy but you will need a large bowl, a muslin cloth, a wooden spoon and room in the fridge.

Line the bowl with the cloth and spoon in your yoghurt. Add salt and stir through. Then, gather up the sides of the cloth and tie round the handle of the wooden spoon (other kitchen implements will work too), which you have laid across the top of the bowl, so that you end up with a little money bag of yoghurt, suspended over the bowl. The bag should not touch the bottom of the bowl. 

I feel like I have repeated the word bowl too often in that paragraph.

Leave overnight in the fridge. Mine was suspended for about 22 hours in total and I thought the consistency was perfect but the longer it stays in there, the firmer it will be.

When you come to make the dish, preheat the oven to 180 degrees and toss the broccoli in olive oil and seasoning. Once the oven has come to temperature, you will roast for around 20 mins.

Drain any liquid from the bottom of the labneh bowl and remove the cheese from the muslin cloth. Beat lightly to loosen and then you can add any flavouring you wish. I kept this relatively simple by stirring through a little garlic, a spring onion and lots of seasoning. Spread the labneh on a serving plate.

Lightly toast the almonds in a dry frying pan over a low heat.

When the broccoli is roasted and the ends beginning to look a little charred, remove from the oven and place on the labneh. Drizzle over a little olive oil and sprinkle on the almonds and jalapeño chillies (if using).

Note: if you’re not a fan of crunchy broccoli, you may wish to blanche the spears in advance of roasting.

Tuesday 23 May 2023

All'Oro, Rome

Although every meal we had in Rome was memorable, our dinner at All'Oro will linger in the memory for a long time to come, and is quite possible that, come the end of the year, one of our best dishes will have been taken here. 

Whenever we go to a new place, we always want to eat as locally and typically as possible, and the trouble is that a lot of high end restaurants, particularly when situated within hotels, tend to be the kind of mishmash "modern European" cuisine which, no doubt, is fabulously delicious, but not of its place. Which is why we were delighted that All'Oro offered a "Classics" tasting menu. 

It looked deceptively short and simple, for which we were grateful after a few days of quite intense consumption courtesy of our friend A. However, what we had failed to account for was the fact that All'Oro take their appetisers EXTREMELY seriously. There were twelve in total - all bite size, yes, but twelve of the richest most delicious bites known to greedy man. Having reached the end, we already felt like we had had a substantial meal. A couple of highlights:

This was the restaurant's "take" on a Caesar salad. A Caesar salad biscuit. So pretty, but so intense with umami flavour (I like the fact that you can see my notebook creeping into the back of the shot here. Also, you can't see it from this angle, but the dish in which these biscuits were served was actually the hollowed head of a Roman emperor. So clever!)


The Panzanella sphere - ohhhh. This needed to be eaten in a single bite as the centre was liquid essence of tomato. Again, as beautiful to look at as it was to eat. D and I couldn't stop grinning for a good couple of minutes after this one.


The meal proper kicked off with a "savoury tiramisu". I will admit to being slightly wary - I enjoy a good tiramisu but can sometimes find them to be lacking in texture. Here, crispy pork cheek was used to bring that much needed textural variety to a light as air potato foam and meltingly soft cod. The gentle bitterness of the cocoa powder was also welcome. 


All'Oro's take on a carbonara is probably one of the most delicious things I have eaten in a while. Again, crispy bacon was used to bring texture to cloud like layers of pecorino and parmesan cream, and the bite of the black pepper ensured that the dish was not too cloying. The egg shell presentation was whimsical without being twee.


Of two pasta dishes proper, it was the second that was our favourite - a cappelletti filled with a delicious savoury consommĂ© which popped in the mouth, flooding it with flavour. 


There may have been flagging at this point, and the oxtail rocher, while delicious, was incredibly rich and the accompanying celery gelee failed to offer the relief of any acidity to cut through it.  Still, I thought, just dessert to come but...no. While All'Oro's take on a classic tiramisu was as fantastic as you might it expect, it did not signal the end of the meal. Instead...petits fours. And, like the appetisers, these were taken very seriously indeed. I can't resist sharing a picture of the doll with candyfloss hair, even if I was almost on the point of either weeping or swearing off food for life.


So, All'Oro. Amazing. Next time (and I can't imagine going to Rome and not making a return trip here) we plan to try the other tasting menu which appears to be slightly less rooted in Roman tradition, which, judging by some of the dishes mentioned on the a la carte, could prove extremely interesting. I cannot recommend it highly enough in terms not just of food but exemplary, fabulous service. I just beseech you - make sure that, when you go, you are EXTREMELY hungry.

Tuesday 16 May 2023

When in Rome (eat as the Romans do)

Pretty much every main meal we ate in Rome, we tried to seek out restaurants doing Roman food - sometimes traditional and sometimes a more modern spin but always rooted in the rich culinary tradition of the city.

We were there in the springtime, so it was the season of the carciofi (artichoke); a troublesome vegetable that I've never really bothered with at home. But, partly due to the variety grown over there, and partly due to the time, trouble and copious amounts of oil employed in cooking them, these were a genuine delight, rendered almost creamy in flavour and texture. They seem to like to put them in a lot of things: sandwiches, pasta and even tossed through a plate of simply cut and shredded meat to make a surprisingly rich main course.


The classic pasta dishes of Rome, the mainstays of every menu, appear to be carbonara (cheese, guanciale, egg), cacio e pepe (cheese and pepper) and gricia (cheese and guanciale). The pasta that we ate was definitely firmer than we tend to have it in Britain - not crunchy but definitely exhibiting that classic, if elusive, description of "al dente". And the dishes were a bit saucier than I tend to cook them which was interesting to note. 


Offal also plays a big part in Roman cuisine. Oxtail popped up on most menus - including the most beautiful, rich, sticky bowl of oxtail risotto which is definitely one to recreate at home. On our final evening, we tried the local delicaies of Roman style tripe and pork tendons. I try not to be squeamish about food but, I must admit, I had struggled with the idea of trip when our good friend A had proposed it earlier in the trip, but when it turned up on a tasting menu it was only right to try it. And reader, although it probably won't make my top ten dishes of the year, it was very tasty indeed (although I think that is mainly down to the delicious sauce it was tossed through; that quiveringly pallid Yorkshire dish of tripe and onions still carries no appeal whatsoever). The tendons, to the right of the picture, were lightly pickled and, although the texture was slightly odd, were very interesting to eat.

Thursday 11 May 2023

La bella vita - a sojourn in Rome

We've just got back from a lovely few days in Rome. Despite forecasts to the contrary, we basked in glorious sunshine, walked our feet off and ate. Oh my word, how we ate. We ate so much that for two days after we got back we consumed little more than toast which we nibbled at like Victorian consumptives. Roman food is RICH.

We went with an Italian friend, A, who lived in the city for five years while studying. We asked him to show us "typical" Roman food and he did us absolutely proud, taking his mission extremely seriously. And so as well as an abundance of typically Roman restaurant dishes (highlights to follow in a future post) we also sampled the wares of a local market, had three cone gelato, enjoyed the deep fried delights of Roman "suppli" and learned that Romans take their biscuits extremely seriously.

This is a selection of the wares from La Biscottificio Artigiano Innocenti, a noted local bakery. To describe these as biscuits is selling them somewhat short. 


Here we see an example of a typical Roman street food, a suppli. This particular one consisted of rice in a rich tomato sauce with a generous amount of mozzarella at the centre. Gorgeous. Elsewhere, we also tried a cacio e pepe version; deep fried cheesy pasta is just as dirty and delicious as you might expect.


Testaccio market is a must visit for a foodie in the city. We spent a very pleasant hour or so drinking wine and eating cheese at one particular stall, and also bought a few bits to take home including a fabulous deli meat called Ciauscolo, which is best described as a sort of spreadable Mortadella. 



This gelato is from a shop called Torce. It has been awarded three cones, which is the ice cream equivalent of three Michelin Stars and it was absolutely divine. Our only sadness was that we didn't have time to try more than a few flavours (but definitely one to seek out and revisit in the future). On A's advice I tried the vanilla (the benchmark of the true gelato master), paired with a beautifully sharp and vivid scoop of raspberry. D went pistachio, strawberry and, in a stroke of maverick genius, cream of habanero chilli (some of the flavours were a little...eccentric). Magnifico. 

Monday 24 April 2023

Weekend eats (and kitchen talk) - April 2023

As I mentioned in my last but one post, we recently had some major construction work done on the back of our house, which included completely reinventing our formerly tiny kitchen. Previously, we had a fairly large (for a bog-standard 1930s semi) dining room which had a LOT of dead space, partly due to a very small and rather pointless back extension. At the same time, the kitchen was a small galley, with limited storage and limited surface space. It certainly wasn't comfortable for two people to cook in at the same time. The oven was ancient, and one of the five gas hobs hadn't worked in a decade (let's gently gloss over the reason why neither of us ever thought to get it repaired or, indeed, why the oven itself with many year's worth of baked on grime never found itself at the receiving end of a deep clean.) The surfaces themselves were appalling, the decor that peculiar shade of pale, sickly yellowish beige that seemed to be so popular back in the seventies. In short, a bit of a nightmare, especially for people who enjoy cooking and want the kitchen to be at the centre of the home.

Circumstances at last allowed for us to rip it all out and start again. It has been a long, painful and ludicrously expensive process but we are now there, bar a little bit of final painting, and to say that I am delighted is an understatement.

From this...



To this:




Isn't it lovely?

I'll admit, though, I've found it a tiny bit difficult to get into the swing of cooking in the new space. It doesn't really feel completely mine yet and I'm a bit nervous about making a mess. So D has done most of the heavy lifting, cookery speaking, so far. This weekend was the first time I really started to relax and enjoy it a little bit more. I made floury buns and coleslaw to accompany some excellent hotdog sausages on Saturday evening, and on Sunday we had a joyous Welsh rarebit for breakfast and bacon chops with mustard mash, smoky creamed spinach and roasted asparagus for supper and it was all very, very nice indeed. 

Wednesday 19 April 2023

Inver in springtime

A quick trip up to Scotland to blow out some cobwebs this weekend. A brief sojourn in Carlisle (not a place I would recommend as a foodie destination, but it does boast the most splendiforous secondhand bookshop) on the way to a night at our beloved Inver, a fabulous restaurant with rooms cum sanctuary that looks out over Loch Fyne. I'm sure I've written about it before, and if I haven't then mea culpa indeed because it is one of our very favourite places to eat.

The chef there has done stages in all manner of high-end places, including a (practically obligatory nowadays) stint at Noma. And the kind of food she cooks is very much of the same sort of sensibility - this is food that is seasonal and local and ingredient-centric but with the odd little twist or flourish that makes you go "Hmmmm" and then, more often than not, "Yum." It can be challenging sometimes, the combinations are unusual, but we have never been disappointed by the food in the five years that we have been making the trip.

This, I think, was the first time that we have been to Inver in the spring and the menu was heaving with glorious shellfish which very much floated our boats.

Snacks to start - oysters in sea buckthorn oil, cured mackerel, cockles in a pickled gel, crab on barley bannock. Fresh and lip smacking, and slipped down very easily with a glass of chilled fizz.


The garden plate - literally, greens from the garden (here, kale and goosefoot) which had just been shown the grill to give a hint of char and then served with a miso mayonnaise which rich sweetness. Makes one see the point of vegetables when they're served like this.


The Scallop and langoustine were so fresh and sweet that they required no intervention from the kitchen - served raw, they melted in the mouth, while the accompanying salad of young broccoli added crunch and a slight bitterness.


The dish of the night - brown crab meat on a buttery celeriac terrine, a salad of apple and white crab and then a creamy fermented celeriac sauce of dreams. It looks so modest in the photo; it tasted absolutely heavenly. Balanced to perfection - and I often find brown crab dishes to be too rich and sickly for my palate.


A feast of pig - loin, head, glazed belly and garlicky sausage with a zingy pickled celery and fennel salad to wake up the palate in between glorious, fatty mouthfuls.


Lanark blue cheese with chicory, chicory jam and gingerbread. I love it when restaurants only serve one cheese for the cheese course, especially when the treatment is so thoughtful and surprisingly delicious. 


A quick palate cleanser of blood orange and beeswax. I loved this, by turns bitter and sweet; D found the texture of the candied blood orange a little challenging.


Poached pear with walnut ice cream and walnut streusel and a sauce of pear juice shot through with the warmth of ginger and pepper. Another very unassuming looking dish that delivered fabulous alternating layers of succulence and spice.


Petits fours: chocolate cream on sea lettuce (frankly, challenging) and beautifully warm madeleines dusted with bay sugar (not in the least challenging; could have inhaled a bucketful even after a full meal).



Of all the meals we have had at Inver, this may have been the best yet. We are already plotting the next trip.

Strathlachan
Strachur
Argyll & Bute
PA27 8BU
01369 860537

Tuesday 11 April 2023

Easter Sunday, a feast of duck

It has been so long since I last posted that I’m not even going to bother commenting. Onwards!

The big news chez nous is that we have recently replaced our kitchen. Gone is the poky little galley with the slightly yellowish walls. In its place a big, bright room with a huge island and a statement radiator. I’ll share some before and after pictures at some point.

Easter Sunday lunch, then, was a chance to flex some cooking muscles which we haven’t been able to do in a while. And it was delicious.

Duck and black pudding bonbons with sweet and sour roasted plums. We often make these bonbons at Christmas and, once the  confit legs have been brined, slow cooked in duck fat and then roasted the final stage is simplicity itself. The meat is so tender that it only needs a bit of black pudding and a pinch of Chinese five spice and it holds itself together perfectly in a sphere which can then be bread-crumbed and fried. You may note that head-chef D favours bonbons that tend towards the snooker-ball size.


Brined duck breast with cabbage, ginger cream and chilli oil. An Ottolenghi accompaniment - sounds odd, proved absolutely delicious. 


Cherry frangipane tart with clementine ice cream. D has conceived something of a passion for pastry recently and he does it very well. The ice cream is simplicity itself and lovely both on its own and as an accompaniment. 

After months of ready meals, sandwiches and takeaways, utter bliss.

Tuesday 19 April 2022

Recipe corner: small batch basic brownies

Happy Easter to all who celebrate it - and Happy Chocolate Day to those who don’t. This is a big year for us; my Mum finally fulfilled one of D’s longest standing ambitions by buying us an Hotel Chocolat Ostrich Egg. It is gargantuan. We will be eating it until Christmas.

The thing with us and chocolate: we both love it and have a number of sweet teeth but don’t tend to eat it in massive quantities. I have friends who tell me they can’t have sweet stuff in the house without it being consumed; we have an overflowing stash drawer and generally just have a small treat after dinner. One of the few areas of life where I find it easy to exercise moderation. Shame I can’t do the same when it comes to, say, melted cheese.

Anyway, (sense the segue) I wanted to figure out the proportions for a small batch of brownies which are a GREAT way of using up any chocolate going spare. A full size bake for two adults is a bit too much, but this recipe makes 12 brownie bites or 6-8 more substantial cakes. I’ve adapted the recipe from the gorgeous Jane’s Patisserie website which is full of lovely, lovely things.

I use a small foil tray from Waitrose to bake these which are a good size (18cm by 11cm, 2.5 cm deep). You could also use a standard loaf tin which would give you a deeper brownie (and a smaller surface area). If you do this you will probably need to increase the baking time. Baking time is CRUCIAL when it comes to brownies; although I’ve given the time that works for me and for my oven, there is no substitute for checking. Use the toothpick test visual as a guide; it really works.

Ingredients

65g dark chocolate
65g butter

1 large egg
90g caster sugar
Pinch of salt
Splash of vanilla extract

35g plain flour
15g cocoa

Up to 200g additions - optional (chocolate chips, nuts, chopped confectionary)

Makes 6-12 brownies 

Finely chop the chocolate and dice the butter and place in a heatproof bowl. Melt together (either over a pan of simmering water or in short bursts in the microwave) and then set aside for 10 mins. 

While it’s cooling, preheat the oven to 160 (fan), and have the egg and sugar measured out in one bowl and the flour and cocoa in another. Lightly butter your foil tray.

Using a stand mixer or an electric whisk, beat together the egg and sugar until you have a pale mousse. This will take 5 mins or so.

Pour over the cooled chocolate and add a pinch of salt and splash of vanilla. Gently fold the chocolate through - try and preserve as much of the air as possible. Then shower over the flour / cocoa mix and fold that through too. It needs to be well combined and this ALWAYS takes longer than you think. Patience, grasshopper.

Finally, stir through any additions you’re including before pouring in to the greased tray and smoothing the top.

Bake for 12 minutes or until a toothpick yields the correct result. Allow to cool in the tray before removing and using a nice sharp knife to cut. 

Friday 11 March 2022

That Friday feeling

It's Friday! And am frankly SHOCKED to see that it's been a month since I last posted. I have more stuff about Paris to share, and I never got around to talking properly about the gorgeous meal we had in Roots at the back end of last year. Poor little blog; it gets sadly neglected.

In exciting life news - I recently got a much longed for promotion at work and I couldn't be more pleased. I'm back working in an area that I love and where I think that I can make a real difference, plus early impressions are that I have a fabulously supportive and fun manager and team around me. I feel incredibly lucky at the moment - pinch-me lucky, that I have a well paid, secure job, a lovely home and can absorb the coming rises in the cost of living with very little pain. I know that there are people out there genuinely struggling at the moment and it's heart breaking. And let's not even start talking about the wider world situation. The fact that I don't necessarily discuss it or refer to it here does not mean that I am not very aware of my privilege.

So moving swiftly on...one thing I did want to share - if anyone out there was thinking of subscribing to a fruit and veg box, we've recently started using Oddbox and I wholeheartedly recommend it (to be clear, this is not a sponsored post, or a paid advertisement or anything like that - I just think they're lovely). We've had a couple of boxes now (we're signed up for a fortnightly subscription) and the quality of the produce is great, plus I absolutely adore the ethos that we're basically getting lovely fruit and veg that would be scrapped for no good reason other than it's a bit big / small / misshapen. Big thumbs up from us.

Hope all is well with everyone out in the bloggersphere and I PROMISE that I will be back with some posts soon; in the meantime, wishing everyone a very joyous weekend.

Wednesday 16 February 2022

The world opens...Foodie in Paris

I celebrated a big birthday during the first December of the pandemic. One of those big ones that end with a zero and mean, unless you're a better man than me, you feel like spending the day in bed drinking wine and weeping at the passing of time and general futility of existence. It was not a good time to celebrate a birthday although I have to say that my lovely husband and Mum and Dad pulled out a number of stops to make sure that the day was well marked. Still, we had originally planned to celebrate with a trip to Paris. And D was determined to make sure that we made it, even if a bit late. So it was, he colluded with the parentals, and arranged a surprise trip to take place in late January 22. When it came to it, it was a close run thing as to whether or not we'd be able to go given that the French borders didn't open until a couple of weeks before, but go we did and, just like that, the world (or, rather, my world) seemed to be a little more open again.

The Eiffel Tower...as seen from the Pont des Arts
I adore Paris and think it lays claim to being the most beautiful city in the world (although I am easily swayed). And, it goes without saying, that if you enjoy good food and wine it is an absolute embarrassment of riches - although always worth doing your research since, as with every major city, it is easy to fall into over priced and underwhelming tourist traps. D takes his holiday research very seriously, and we had a detailed itinerary which mainly consisted of restaurants and places to buy food.

Of the four main meals, we had one disappointment. Benoit, a one Michelin starred outpost of the Alain Ducasse empire, serves up proper, high end, classical bistro fare, of that there is no doubt. But it is expensive. The wine list is eye watering. And the service was lacking throughout to the extent that after a 90 minute wait, we cancelled desserts and demanded the bill (and had to do so three times before the message got through). Perhaps we caught them on a bad night (although we clocked that the tables around us did not seem to be having any issues) but we won't be returning. There are plenty other of places to visit.

Like Frenchie, which I think was probably my favourite new find of the trip and one I would urge you to seek out if you find yourself there. It's tiny - maybe twenty or so covers crammed into a limited space - and, historically, quite difficult to book. It's one of those places where you get what you're given but, as soon as the first dishes arrive, you don't care because you know you're in the safest of safe hands. 

We weren't even given a copy of the menu at the end, so I have to rely on my phone notes which mainly consist of exclamation marks and yummy words. I do know that our top dish was one of butternut squash gnocchi, sitting on a butternut squash puree and topped with a crisp crumb and a lardo emulsion. There were plenty of familiar flavours - squash, bacon, sage, garlic but it was the contrast of textures that really made the dish. The gnocchi had, I think, been pan fried after steaming so that, while soft and yielding in the middle, were almost toffee like on the outside. There was crunch and velvet, all in one mouthful. A really fine example of modern cooking, with a seasonal vegetable taking centre stage.

Squash!
The dessert also made for a very happy pair of gluttons - peanut sable, chocolate ganache, cocoa crisps, peanut ice cream and a touch of salted caramel. Yes, it was a high end Snickers. But again, it was the playfully contrasting textures that really elevated this classic combinations of flavours. We ate it mostly in silence and then D, surveying his empty plate, declared that a chocolate and peanut dessert is probably his favourite sort of dessert. Bold words. We seldom commit to favourites in our household.

Chocolate and peanut!
We also revisited a favourite venue from our last trip - the gorgeous Cinq Mars, which is located very close to the Musee D'Orsay, tucked away down a quiet, unassuming street. Another classic bistro but without an offensive price tag. Unfortunately, I can't find the website to link at the moment but a quick Google search will find it. The terrine starter is worth the trip alone (they bring along the serving bowl and allow you to help yourself. Suffice to say that D got through an entire basket of bread taking full advantage of this). 

Terrine!
The service was charming and the wine list comprehensive. It's really the kind of thing you (or rather I) imagine when I close my eyes and think about dining in the fictional Paris where the moon is always full and a plaintive accordion is always playing a few streets away.

Tuesday 15 February 2022

Recipe corner: Gymkhana's tandoori lamb chops

Halfway through February already - the days are slipping by at a frankly alarming rate and I can't believe how long it has been since I last blogged. 

Excitingly, it is entirely possible that we have already had our top dish of the year thanks to a fabulously foodie short break in Paris (abroad!) However, up until this last weekend, I felt my cooking mojo had been somewhat lacking. Looking back over our archived meal plan for January, I'm a little surprised at how much we cooked actually because I definitely felt that it was all a bit meh. It could just be the January blues (pernicious blighters) and the fact that after the Christmas festivities, things are always a little bit flat. 

Anyway, early on in the month we had a sneaky short break down in London, primarily to see my family for the first time since before the pandemic. And it was wonderful. My brother and sister in law are fantastic hosts and I don't think I have ever eaten a better Spanish omelette than the one that V cooked us as part of a tapas spread. The children, my gorgeous nieces and nephew, had, unsurprisingly, changed enormously in the last two years, but were as fun as ever, and super tolerant of their aged auntie. We spent a brilliant day with them. And the icing on the cake was the fact that the night before we had a superlative dinner at Mayfair's Gymkhana, a restaurant I have been keen to visit for a long time.

We were not disappointed. If you like Indian food (we do) then this is a must-visit. We had the tasting menu which, I must admit, defeated us in terms of sheer quantity but the flavours and skilful balancing of spices had us in full on plate-licking mode initially (until we got so full we could barely move!) We'd love to go again and maybe order a la carte to manage capacity issues. 

The star of the evening were the tandoori lamb chops which, D declared, ruined tandoori lamb chops for him forever - and I quite agree. While the starting point was undoubtedly meat of the highest quality, luscious and tender and tumbling off the bone, the flavours of the marinade were fantastic - recognisable to the Western palate as "tandoori" but with a complexity that is lacking in your bog standard order-from-up-the-road. 

Unfortunately, Gymkhana's kitchen has yet to produce a recipe book BUT the recipe for the lamb chops is online - when I discovered this fact they went straight on the meal plan and we cooked them this weekend. They did not disappoint; the only real point of difference we could discern was the fact that we cooked them under our grill, so they lacked the note of char produced by a tandoor over; the next time we make them, we will be firing up the barbecue. I made a few little tweaks as I went along - exceedingly minor - but the original recipe, along with some other stunning looking dishes can be found here.

Some notes - this requires two marinades, the first overnight, so you do need to prepare in advance. Some ingredients are a little obscure - I bought the kasoori methi (dried fenugreek leaves) and mustard oil online. The original recipe called for red chilli powder; now I know that our chilli powder is EXCEEDINGLY hot and didn't want that here (it wasn't in keeping with the original). I also know that a smoked paprika / chilli powder combination is sometimes suggested as a sub for certain types of Indian chilli powder, so that is what I did. The resulting lamb had a tingle but was not overwhelming; if you like chilli heat then you may wish to adjust my quantities upwards. Oh, and, goes without saying - use the best possible meat you can for this because that really is the bedrock of the dish.


Ingredients

8 lamb cutlets (or 1 8 bone rack of lamb)

First marinade:

Tbsp salt
3 fat cloves of garlic
2 inch (approx) piece of root ginger
2 tsp chilli powder
2 tsp smoked paprika
Tbsp kasoori methi
Small red onion, crushed with a mallet or rolling pin

Second marinade:

Tbsp salt
3 tsp chilli powder
3 tsp smoked paprika
7 tbsp Greek yoghurt
2 fat cloves of garlic
Inch (approx) pieces of root ginger
2 tbsp garam masala
2 tbsp mustard oil

Serves 2 greedy people (with sides)

Assemble your first marinade. Make a garlic and ginger paste: crush or finely grate the garlic, weigh, and then grate on an equivalent weight of root ginger and squish together with the flat of a knife. Bruise whatever remains of the ginger with whatever implement you used to crush the onion.  Combine the paste and the whole ginger with the other ingredients and add the lamb, mixing well and ensuring the lamb is well coated in spice. You may wish to do this in a large plastic bag rather than a bowl. Refrigerate, covered, (or in the bag) overnight.

Assemble your second marinade, making the garlic and ginger paste as before and this time discarding any of the ginger that you don't use. Combine the paste with all the other ingredients and then, in goes the lamb. Marinate for a further six hours or so.

To cook - grill (or barbecue), turning every few minutes until the centre of the cutlets has reached around 58 degrees (this should give you a medium result which is perfect for this dish but, of course, cook for longer if preferred).

Friday 14 January 2022

The Food Wot I Ate - a 2021 retrospective

2021 was the year that started with a lockdown and ended with not-a-lockdown-but-most-of-us-choosing-to-stay-indoors-anyway. It did a good impression, in parts, of being normal but it really wasn't. It was the year where many of us queued up like dutiful citizens to get not one, not two but three jabs in the hope it would grant us freedom but then realised that freedom was slightly scary. A funny old time.

In the latter half of the year, as reflected in my occasional blog posts, D and I tried to get back into the swing of eating out and we were rewarded with some absolutely fabulous meals. Whether it was because after twelve months of home cooking and takeaways the novelty of restaurant food triumphed over all critical faculties, or that the restaurants we visited were just that good it is impossible to be entirely sure, but we were blessed with some truly superlative dishes. And I haven't even told you about our trip to Roots yet at the back end of the year, where Tommy Banks's team is doing fantastic things on the banks of the River Ouse.

It's been tough to narrow it down, but there are definitely a few dishes that deserve an extra special mention:

Starter / Snack of the year:


It faced stiff competition, but the "prawn toast" at Lake Road Kitchen wins the day. A heady combination of fresh, bouncy prawn, garlic butter and a crispy brioche coating. The whole table could probably have just sat and eaten a bucket of these and been perfectly content. Nothing outlandish going on with the flavours and ingredients, but flawless execution shows that it isn't always necessary to push boundaries - garlicky, buttery seafoody goodness will always be a pleasure to eat.

Bread of the year:


Not just of the year but probably ever - the brioche at Raby Hunt has to be tasted to be believed. It really says something that in a magical multi course tasting extravaganza, the bread course is still the memory that really lingers. Special mention, though, to Roots where the warm sourdough was served with what they described as "cheese custard" and I will describe to you as "grown-up Dairylea". Yum.

Meat / fish of the year:



Often, the meat and fish courses on a menu are slightly less exciting than the beginning and end of the meal - don't you think? The snacks and starters and desserts are where much of the innovation and fireworks tend to take place. I say that - but then, am reminded with a smile of the amazing lobster ravioli at Raby Hunt, or the doughnut stuffed with venison and damson jam at Roots. Still, the stand out for me is, I think, the amazing lamb shoulder at Le Cochon Aveugle. A buttery potato pancake, topped with shredded lamb, yoghurt and black garlic. I might be a little biased, since lamb is my absolute favourite meat to eat, but this was a really high quality piece of cooking.

Cheese course of the year:



D and I absolutely love it when restaurants do something a little different for the cheese course. I mean, we love it when we're presented with a big cheese trolley as well (who isn't?) but it's exciting to see something else - and the soufflé at Raby Hunt is the perfect case in point. The vin jaune sauce and walnuts added different flavour notes and textures but the star of the show was the fluffy, cheesy cloud trembling in the middle - at once both incredibly light and fearsomely rich. Bliss.

Dessert of the year:



Again, in the face of stiff competition, Lake Road Kitchen triumphs here for me. I still think about that Savarin-Brillat cheesecake on a fairly regular basis. Simple - a plain cheesecake and a couple of fruity twiddles - but perfect. A special mention, though, to Inver's rice pudding which...well, suggested to me that maybe rice pudding isn't the worst thing in the world after all but that in the right hands can be a lovely, lovely thing. Well played, Inver.

Home cooked dish of the year:


Like all good (obsessive) foodies, we keep records of what we cook and eat and scrolling back through 2021 I can see lots of comfort food type dishes on there which is probably indicative of our state of minds whether we realised it or not. We don't very often cook the same dish regularly, which suggests that Diana Henry's teriyaki salmon was a real favourite (made twice within the space of a month). I also recall absolutely swooning over the smoked haddock hash that we made at the start of the year and then never got around to repeating - definitely one to have again soon. However, I think the most representative dish of the year must be the humble meringue. Since lockdown #1 D has been making all the household mayonnaise from scratch and, as a result, I have been regularly making meringues to use up the surplus egg whites. We eat them with Chantilly cream and whatever fruit we happen to have to hand, and they have been one of the great simple pleasures of the year. Not one that I appear to have taken a photo of though - so please accept a picture of the cat instead, enjoying her dish of this and every year, chopped fresh prawns.