Whose Boots Are Those Shoes?

Gazette

•August 23, 2015 • Leave a Comment

A mid-August evening, what could be called lolling (and not laughing out loud) along the Wandsworth Thames-side promenade, passing upper class families who’ve bought up the river, beautiful youths cashing in on their early (or parents) monetary success and celebrities, mainly sporting, all taking in the air and absorbing the retiring sunshine. There’s no sense of urgency as children on scooters dart across the path, cyclists and segways kill their speed to prolong the picture, and paps like me involuntarily snap the glistening landscape ahead as though Instagram itself would be robbed without it.

It’s a Friday night in Wandworth/ Battersea, and I feel abroad. This feeling heightens as you cut through the cobbles into Sherwood Court, arriving at the terrace of Gazette Brasserie, our dining choice for the evening. It’s only as I am writing this that I am surprised to find this branch is from the chain I have seen or visited in both Balham and Putney. Surprised as the feeling is entirely different, that of an independent- the care, the elegance, the treat. You wouldn’t get the same attention/ romance on the high streets of Balham or Putney.

I literally felt like I was in France due to the decor of the rooms, as waiter after waiter welcomed us with warmth the French aren’t known for, before seating us at the bar in reception as our table on the terrace was being prepared. With a close humidity in the outside air, the air-con in this waiting area was a delight, and so was the Courvoisier XO cognac we chose as an aperitif – slightly backward I know, but it’s Friday and rules were made to be broken.

After discussing wines with the Somellier for ten minutes or so, we were led to our white lined table, seated with importance and ready for our first glass of wine. I fancied a Riesling, so we were educated and guided into trying a gewürztraminer, which was beautiful, both alone and with our delicious starters. Mine being chicken liver and foie gras parfait and my company’s the escargot in a citrus and garlic butter. I did try a snail, so I can cross that off my gastronomic to-do list, but as much as I wanted to love them (for my Parisian inner-self), it went round and round my mouth like a toddler who’s face would have crumpled and tears probably would have rolled. I obviously styled it out with chic elegance and a quick gulp- given the company and environment.

For mains it had to be the cote de boeuf to share. Brought over to the table next to us with quite some theatre, the waitress sliced the meat off the bone above a pretty heated contraption with tealights maintaining the heat. There was enough red meat to feed a family of five. It really was melt-in-your mouth divine, the peppery crust an added bonus. This meal topped most ‘steak and red wine Fridays’- an extra-curricular activity I am good at. The only link I can make to the other branches were the chips or frittes as they are called, and this is a positive thing. Proper handmade chips, soft/ soggy in the middle, with a moreish crispy coating. I remember them with a mischievous glint in my eye – a bed for my steak bavette in the Balham branch. No one can eat that many chips I thought, until I did.

By now we had switched to a smooth but hearty red, Saint Emilion – Chateau Le Freyche, that had been breathing alongside us in a beautiful etched glass decanter, smoothing out the kinks as much as we were in this relaxed al fresco environment. All we needed were some buskers boldly selling pirate dvds, stray tail-less cats infested with fleas and walking accordion players (probably also infested with fleas), and I definitely would have assumed I had teleported across the channel.

With swollen bellies, we simply had to decline desserts however I’m sure the opulence we had indulged in so far would have continued. Did I mention the glass display cabinet in the reception area filled with all manner of suggestive cheese. Like the crown jewels, I looked but I didn’t touch. A reason, among many, for a return.

Should you wish to have a party here, there are rooms above for private hire.

Gazette Battersea

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: Battersea, Cognac, cote de boeuf, escargot, French restaurant, Gazette, London, parfait, River Thames, South West London, steak, Wandsworth, wine

Farewell JRB…

•May 3, 2015 • 1 Comment

I don’t think you can top our dinner parties. They’re consistently so spot on. I say that without any form of arrogance, for with a very close pal, we simply host. Host a chef with culinary ideas beyond advanced on ordinary. A waiter with more wine knowledge than most sommeliers, (yet himself opts for Paso), and a party of twelve friendly guinea pigs eager to experiment and socialise. The atmosphere is faultless. It’s ridiculously hard keeping the guest list to just twelve.

Friday saw the last JRB for a while at Shipka Towers. Nathan our favourite chef will be moving on to a head chef role in his day job, so won’t have as much time to introduce such intricate menus in his leisure time. Will he even have leisure time? That’s by-the-by. But in his swan song, he decided to park JRB exceeding all expectations, and from my past blogs, you’ll see they’re already very high.

Five courses of lamb, nose to tail (or perhaps tongue to tail), and suggested without my influence. This particular Welsh girl couldn’t quite believe it.

As a tide of vibrant personalities came in, so did some beautiful wines and fresh spring flowers. We launched into the evening with each guest revealing a secret quirky fact about themselves and the party having to guess the owner of said fact. This broke the ice perfectly, and before we knew it the first plate was in front of us.

I think people were nervous of the first dish as it involved tongue, a part of the body that admittedly you wouldn’t usually be drawn to. Confit tongue and braised cheek, broad beans, pea shoots and salsa verde. This was portioned very well, as with such strong flavours of meat, you wouldn’t have enjoyed a hearty load. The greens lifted the heavy flavours and every plate was cleared effortlessly.

Next was my favourite dish (other than dessert) involving curried heart, ginger arancini, tamarind and coconut jus. With a hint of Thai flavours, the arancini blew us away, and everyone was hoping for leftovers to take home. Intricate herbs and lemon underneath the ginger really complimented the curried heart, and a sneaky rare cutlet not mentioned on the menu. Delicious. I could stop here, but there were three more courses to follow.

Three took an Italian influence in the form of cannelloni. A buttered liver, ricotta and scrag end cannelloni of course, with wild mushroom cream. I’m not really a fan of the fungi family, however went in on this dish as though I was. I enjoyed the cannelloni and the creamy sauce as not too overpowering and minus the mushroom texture. The liver wasn’t to my tastes, but there were plenty of guys at the table happy to step in and overindulge.

Course four was the last of our savoury and hit the meat hard with breast, ribeye and sweetbreads, white onion and thyme purée and asparagus. Following lengthy debates on what people believed sweetbreads to be, consensus settled on two glands of the lamb – the throat and the pancreas, and not in fact the testicles as common myth proclaims. I’m quite a fan of them, having only sampled them in Nathan’s presence; they’ve become somewhat a signature. The small portion of breast was insignificant next to the juicy pink ribeye, demolished quickly with gluttonous eyes searching the table for spares.

By now I physically had no room or taste buds available for any more lamb, and dessert was a welcomed respite. Sheep’s milk and elderflower parfait, summer berries, Muscat jelly and vanilla cheese fritters. Everything on this plate was dreamy, and could stand alone in its own excess. Wishful thinking. The parfait was like the topping on a cheesecake, I’d pay to bathe in Muscat jelly and the vanilla cheese fritters like fresh doughnuts from a summer fair. We concluded the lamb feast happy.

I wish Nathan all the luck in the world with his new venture, although undoubtedly luck will not be needed. Not sure what the future of JRB holds, but my gut feeling tells me this wasn’t really the last..

(This post is dedicated to one of the founding attendees of JRB, the life and soul of any party; Graham gorgeous Charman. Graham unexpectedly said goodbye to his Father this week, to which we raised the above photographed toast in condolence. Graham emigrates to Australia early next week and albeit their gain is our incredible loss. All our sympathies and support GMan, we wish you the most fulfilling new start down under. xx)

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: dinner party, friends, JRB, lamb, Nathan Richardson, nose to tail, South West London, Supper Club

Latest JRB on tour

•November 25, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Time has gone on, and a few more JRBs have passed*. Some for personal parties, some for public and some for original key supporters’ sheer satisfaction.

*See previous posts.

Having not attended a Nathan Richardson culinary showcase since a close friend’s surprise birthday dinner back in April, I was keen to see what advances Nathan’s skill set had made.

Now a Sous Chef at the Ship, an insanely popular gastro-type-pub on the river in Wandsworth, there are clear Nathanisms on their daily changing a la carte. However his experimental techniques are often taken to new limits at JRB, where it’s an opportunity for Nathan to play with new apparatus, menus and techniques at his leisure for our spoilt taste buds.

This particular dinner party stood apart from previous for the fish factor. Not always the most avid fan, I delight in seeing meat feature more in menus, and can quite often ignore dishes involving creatures of the sea.

Nathan was not going to let me ignore them this night, opening with a confit squid, serano crisp and smoked crème fraiche sorbet. Normally the thought of squid or octopus makes me shudder; the texture is never often nailed. Of course, not biased, Mr Richardson did, no rubbery/ flavourless qualities here. Also the serano crisp needed to be multiplied and served in packs as a premium snack. Thin slices of cured ham sandwiched between savoury biscuit, deeelicious. I shamelessly wanted to steal everyone’s. (I didn’t)

Next up was a white truffle and artichoke mousse with an apple fondant and walnut dressing. What wasn’t listed on the description was the artichoke crisp, seasoned to perfection and again demands multiplication. One just wasn’t enough.

One of my favourite plates was the next one, seafood yes, but for some reason I’ve always liked a decent scallop. We were served two on a swish of pea purée with chorizo jam and roe crackers. The sweetness of the jam was a lovely contrast with the scallop and crackers, and the pea pulled it all together. Another clean plate returned to the kitchen via our waiter for the evening.

Back when JRB began, the portion sizes were the same throughout the meal- large, and often meant we couldn’t fully get through the final courses. Now through Nathan’s career progression in hospitality, the portions were clever and beautifully presented.

An interesting little course was the chicken and wild mushroom ragu, a lovely winter dish that would have been nice as a main, although slightly over-seasoned this time. The cauliflower puree on the top, sealed the meat ragu like a cottage pie and the crispy wing on the side added interest although not sure of the link.

Did someone say duck? My absolute favourite. And it was next. And the main. Happy Welsh girl. Roasted mallard, spiced confit, carrot and ginger puree and black cabbage. I love the meat red, and two slices was enough to satisfy.

We switched to sweet, dipping into a shaved apple and sorrel salad, blackcurrant foam and cider gel. A refreshing palette cleanser ahead of apricot and amaretto gateau St Honore with a mint granita. Probably my least favourite course this night, but only because it was hard to match or better some of the other courses.

We finished the evening with a warm truffled brie and swilled the last of our various glasses of beautiful wines. My favourite remarkably was the less expensive Longue-Dog red, a warm subtly spiced wine. Will definitely be buying that one again.

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: #Jewsrowbalcony, arts, Balham, creative, Dining, dinner party, food, friends, JRB, Nathan Richardson, popup, restaurant

Fera at Claridge’s

•November 1, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Champagne. Four surprise amuse bouche. Pinot Noir. Starters. Mains. Surprise pre-dessert. Dessert wine. Dessert. Petit fours. And a tour of the kitchen. Today we dined at Fera in Claridge’s. And we did it well.*

*Was told recently by a self-confirmed wording expert that you can in fact start a sentence with ‘and’. I am now adopting this rule when and if I choose to do so. We make the rules. Language is evolving. A Post Grad in Journalism specialising in Sub-editing is irrelevant.

There’s nothing I would have changed about lunch, no slight disgruntlement, no poor company or conversation and definitely no qualms with the service or offering. I can end my review here. Only you need to hear the detail, as detail is entirely the concept at Fera.

Already a Michelin starred restaurant, and open for just six months, Fera is a showcase of Britain’s finest seasonal wild produce. Developed by Simon Rogan, a hot name in the current restaurant scene, with L’Enclume (the predecessor to Fera) boasting two Michelin stars and the Best Restaurant in the UK by Good Food 2015. Simon plays a heavy part in every aspect of the restaurant including the sourcing of the ingredients, the majority organic and many hailing from his own farm in the Lake District.

So on the mildest 1^st of November I can remember, I stopped to cool down after marching through Berkley Square and rearranged what felt like my ‘Sunday best’ in the foyer of this iconic 5 star Mayfair hotel. With a subtle smell of incense I tottered in my heels through a maze of curtains to enter Fera, and was greeted by a warm genuine smile that bizarrely took me by surprise, from the front of house manning reception.

He politely walked me across the restaurant to our table where the ambience was comfortable, considering I was a little after time. The design was cool and contemporary with a strong in-house hotel feel rather than a stand alone restaurant identity. My water glass was filled almost immediately and a glass of Laurent Perrier followed. My obsession with beautiful glassware was in its element as no component had been overlooked amongst our various table implements.

The service team couldn’t do enough for us, and did everything with a gracious likable attitude. Before we had ordered, the first of four surprise amuse bouche had been left on the table, introduced as a blue cheese foam on a wafer crisp with an elderberry jus. It was so pretty it was easily food art, light but with an insane punch of flavour, and finished far too quickly.

We then ordered our courses, but three more fun pre-starters appeared one by one, all as visually pleasing as the last. Stewed rabbit with lovage in the style of a Ferrero Rocher, Mackerel oyster and seaweed presented on a bed of pebbles and a smoked roe and red cabbage type of mousse. Delightful small tasters of the experimental courses that were to come.

By now the champagne had run dry, and it was time to pick a wine to pair with such diverse dishes. The decision was so hard we turned to the careful opinion of the Sommelier who knew just the wine following our descriptions of taste. He didn’t disappoint. A light cherry red Grippsland Pinot Noir, William Downie 2010 hailing from Victoria in Australia. There was a slight effervescence to the wine that danced in the mouth, and it sincerely complemented the courses that came next.

My starter was a piece of art, an organised mess of colour, made up of a smoked Bantam yolk, salt-baked kohlrabi, cavolo nero, Isle of Mull and truffle. I followed this with Goosnargh duck leg, cabbage, Jerusalem artichoke, oakwood mushrooms and savoury. Perfectly portioned, the flavours and presentation were spot on, and the waiters oozed a sense of pride as they presented each dish.

Barely stopping for breath before dessert, or so it felt, a palate cleansing pre-dessert was in front of me. A small glass pot filled with crumbly chocolate malt nitro, prune and dandelion. It was time to change wines, and indulgently we went for an amber hued Renaissance dessert wine from 2010, Domaine Rotier, from Gaillac in France. I don’t have the sweetest tooth, so often I prefer dessert wine to a dessert, but today I was all in.

Out came a chocolate cream, apple marigold, shortbread and rapeseed jam. The shortbread crumbled around the dish, and a caramelised crisp sloped across the fruity/ chocolate collaboration.

Turning down coffees to finish, one last surprise ended what was a perfect weekend lunch; pumpkin and whisky petit fours and elderberry marshmallows. Seasonal and cute, exactly on point to leave satisfied smiles on our faces when being faced with a heightened three figured bill.

At this point it was confirmed that they knew we were from the London Restaurant Network (we did wonder due to the many treats), as we were then asked if we wanted a tour of the kitchen. Something we hadn’t seen of fellow diners. We did of course.

The kitchen was as carefully designed as the dining room. Large and spacious, and so clean and tidy, even when chefs were in full action at their stations. Rafael talked us through the areas, processes and answered all our questions. Simon had been there merely five minutes before, and apparently is present Mondays to Thursdays every week, and then back up to the Lake District for weekends.

With such a slick positive operation and atmosphere, I can see why the place is fully booked for dinner tonight and how easy it is for customers to see off half a day (and half your wages) indulging in such clever courses. I can’t wait to return at Christmas, as a cheeky present to myself, and whoever might wish to accompany.

http://feraatclaridges.co.uk/

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: British, Champagne, Claridge's, Fera, Five Star Hotel, food, L'Enclume, London, London Restaurant Network, Mayfair, Michelin Starred, November, restaurant, Simon Rogan, Wild

Innis and Gunn Chef’s Table with Mark Hix

•September 4, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Many people might just walk past Tramshed. I did. Storming along Rivington Street to get there on time, I of course walked straight past it. Then when I came out on Curtain Road and knew if I kept on I’d land on Shoreditch High Street, Google maps had to intervene. When you get back to the frontage of this restaurant, listed due to being a (no prizes) tramshed since 1905, you do wonder how you could miss it.

The first time I think it’s down to the distracting uniforms of East London hipsters, spilling out onto boozy corners, a pint in one hand, pushing up their thick black rimmed glasses to the bridge of their nose with the other, bright socked ankles waving in colour to grab your attention and vintage cycles wobbling by. A trip out east is a night out in itself, let alone an exclusive Chef’s Table with Mark Hix himself, and his buddy Dougal Gunn Sharp, the present half of the brotherhood behind successful Scottish brewery Innis and Gunn.

Mark Hix, a well known chef, food writer and restaurateur has eight of his own restaurants, various columns in mainstream publications and is top of his field in provenance and where to source magnificent ingredients.

Greeted by Damien Hirst’s infamous large cow and chicken structure in the centre of this steak and chicken restaurant (alongside many tongue-in-cheek doodles on the wall by various intriguing artists) we were ushered through chirpy clientele into the staff quarters, confusing considering we were about to meet London chef royalty. Out through the kitchens, toilets, showers and up a narrow staircase; we poked our heads out into a loft style conversion, decked out as a library. Ceiling to floor in culinary books, adjacent to a ‘Sunday Brunch’ style open kitchen that was laid up for our privileged twelve’s five course dinner.

An Innis and Gunn representative poured me a complicated cocktail called the Bells of St Clements, the first beer-based cocktail I’ve genuinely liked. Then I was introduced to various industry bods, who like me, were eager to see what Mr Hix had in store for us. Still in the reception area we made casual introductions and general chit chat accompanied by beer battered Dublin Bay prawns and marinated whiting with cucumber and Mottra osertra caviar.

As we took our stools at the open plan kitchen top, it turned out it was Kevin, Hix’s right-hand man, who did the cooking in front of us, however closely watched and nudged in places by Mr Hix himself. Kevin was acutely dressed, enviable to most chefs for detail, a polite and chatty man, and instantly likeable.

Following a brief introduction from Mark, we were introduced to Dougal and the first of our paired Edinburgh beers; Innis and Gunn lager. This was the first lager I have ever cooed over, a refreshing flavour, and one I could definitely finish the bottle. This was paired with a delicious De Beauvoir salmon ‘Hix cure’ and Severn and Wye smoked eel with Aura potatoes and horseradish. The thought of smoked eel (and the evil eels in the little mermaid) tarnished this dish for me, and I can’t lie it didn’t go down easily. In contrast the salmon did, with refreshing citrusy potatoes.

The next course was beautiful and I cleared the plate instantly. Announcing the arrival of autumn we had Pock Stones Estate grouse and elderberry salad with Yorkshire croutons (basically deep-fried bread pudding) and this dish was accompanied with the Innis and Gunn Original, the beer that began the Innis and Gunn story through its accidental discovery.

With more anecdotes from their past, Dougal and Mark bantered their way up to the next dish, a braised Glenarm Estate ox cheek in Innis and Gunn with late season Wye Valley Asparagus. The meat was so tender it melted on the tongue, and any doubt of not completing this course became non-existent, as this had to be the piece-de-resistance. This last savoury course was paired with Innis and Gunn Toasted Oak IPA, a beer finished specifically over toasted oak to give it a rich, rounded character of apparently authentic IPAs from the 1800s.

By now, I had quite an enviable selection of beers on the go and the final beer was not to disappoint. A clever beer; the Innis and Gunn Rum Finish. This beer was originally released as a limited edition, but through sheer popularity became part of the core range. It’s a rich, full bodied beer, that’s matured over American Dark Heartwood and infused with a blend of selected rums. This was perfectly paired with a rather lustful dessert; a rum crème brulèe, burnt with a blow torch before our eyes, with delicious doughnuts and blackberries. I was so full by now it was a struggle to finish, however the rest of the room’s plates looked like they had licked them clean! With Dougal still talking, his dessert was very nearly shamelessly thieved.

As the volume in the room, and alcohol intake, increased; a rather happy Mark decided to let the group into his liquor cabinet for a nightcap. We were urged to try various vintages of cider brandy, before my eyes lit up at the sight of the Ardbec. I made a swift getaway after pleasant conversation with various guests, as tequila was threatening the nightcap checklist.

We were spoilt rotten and it didn’t end there, a beautiful limited edition boxed ‘Smokin’ Gunn’ had made it into my bag, a smoked Scottish beer matured in Bourbon barrels and finished with maple syrup. The idea had come from head bartender from Heston’s Heinz Head in Bray, who had seen off 300 other bartenders in an exclusive opportunity to make a beer with Innis and Gunn.

I really enjoyed learning about this brand, the genuine endorsement from Mark Hix, and his pairings that were such high quality thoughtful dishes. If you would like to learn a little more about either, have a look at http://www.innisandgunn.com and http://www.hixrestaurants.co.uk

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: Beer, Craft Beer, Damien Hirst, East London, Edinburgh, food, Innis and Gunn, IPA, Lager, Mark Hix, Pairings, restaurant, Rum, Shoreditch, Tram Shed, Whisky

Croatia; part 2 – Split

•June 28, 2014 • Leave a Comment

A rainy day woke us on Wednesday. Big fat rain bouncing off the narrow street cobbles and back into the sky. Loud enough to enjoy from the comfort of our beds, however enjoyment rapidly dispelled when conscious minds kicked in and we recalled the process of events ahead of us. First task; to get our heavy suitcases back down the 60 or so steps, without the help of our host, in slippery wet weather and flip flops.

Magically we got the cases from A to B, and we made our way back to the Pile Gate and took a local bus to Dubrovnik’s coach station. We’d forgotten about the rest of Dubrovnik, mesmerised by the ancient old town, yet there were plenty more villages and areas to explore.

Split was a much larger affair. We had a four and a half hour coach journey, with a pit stop in Bosnia where passports were required (eye-papping beer drinking nuns) and sat alongside the most annoying Brits abroad with no volume controls. We pootled through lengthy amounts of industrial town before pulling into the coach station on the harbour front. My fixation with harbours only grows with every holiday, and this harbour was a monster. Huge ferries were arriving and departing, and a long backlog of coaches, cars and pedestrians piling up in traffic.

We only really got a quick glimpse as it was still chucking it down, although this was manic rain and left us hiding under some trees desperately searching for our host’s fiancé, who had politely been sent to pick us up due to the weather. We found out later our new pad was barely a ten minute walk from all this harbour activity. Ideal.

Sitting in his car for ten minutes at the foot of the hill to the house, we giggled as torrents of water gushed passed the car, this rain was bizarrely impressive. We made a run for it, and walked into the most fantastic house I’ve stayed in from airbandb to date. On entering you could go up to a high ceilinged bedroom, with exposed beams, brickwork and a stunning terrace complete with sun loungers (we were hopeful). If you made the decision to descend, you found yourself in a contained kitchen, dining room and lounge, with tasteful decor and a decent bottle of red waiting for us as a welcome. There was another terrace alongside the dining table and a spacious modern bathroom. It really was a delight to stay in and while the rain hammered down we showered off Dubrovnik and sunk into the wine.

A few hours later it had stopped raining so we ventured out. The lighting on the harbour was impressive; dusk was battling a naked bright sky revealed following the downpour. People were excited to be back outside and we were eager to conquer another Croatian milestone. It was like the first day of holiday all over again.

We mooched into Diocletian’s Palace and had a look at the various stalls of local artwork and fashions. This landed us in a labyrinth, strolling through narrow alleys and courtyards, past the Cathedral of St Dominus- most of which has been beautifully preserved. Then the Temple of Jupiter, with a headless black Sphinx in black granite guarding the entrance (imported from Egypt at the time of the temple’s construction in the 5th century). We walked so far we came out of the old town walls and found ourselves in a romantic garden with a beautiful water feature. Feeling hungry we went back into the maze and on passing a busy pizzeria we were sold. (Croatian cuisine is very similar to Italian, or in some cases their version of an Italian dish)

Following dinner we took our rotund bellies back to the courtyard outside the temple, where quite the crowd had gathered. People filled the edges of the square, ordering drinks from a large bar on the one side; enchanted by a local acoustic musician singing various classics with his own Split twist. More wine, shameless singing, people watching and environment appreciation followed. A perfect first evening in Split despite the rain.

Thankfully the next day was clear, we needed to get some sun. We walked around the harbour and up a slight hill that revealed a cute little bay at its foot. There seemed to be a game in the sea many tourists at Bacvice beach felt obliged to play. Called Picigin, this Dalmatian sport is simple; stand in the water up to your knees or waist and pass a small ball to other players at high speed by whacking it with the palm of your hand, without the ball falling or touching the water’s surface. Www.picigin.org

After a beer, some late afternoon snacks and lots more idle people watching, we headed back, checking in at the ferry port for details about Hvar and coaches to Zadar.

That evening we got dolled up (an iron quite the luxury) and decided to make an evening of it. Split Old Town had some lovely independant shops and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves in a trendy wine bar, sipping a local recommended white that was simply delicious.

The rain started up again and with sodden waiters flapping past us, we enjoyed the character of this little bar and were last to leave before heading up to the apparently infamous Ghetto Bar. A well known eclectic bar hidden high up in the old ruins of the town. A Shoreditch type affair, splattered with vintage furniture, arrogant paintings and posters. The evening resulted in partyville in the harbour where you couldn’t move for a mix of nationalities or volume of people shrieking as they shared fish bowls of neon cocktails and tossed their limbs carelessly to euro beats.

Friday was to begin with a hangover. Although, in our case a classy white wine hangover.

Posted in A little travel
Tags: Bosnia, Croatia, Diocletian's Palace Cathedral of St Dominus, Dubrovnik, Ghetto Bar, harbour, holiday, Italy, Old Town, Picigin, pizza, Split, Temple of Jupiter, travel

Croatia; part 1 – Dubrovnik

•June 25, 2014 • 1 Comment

After a rocky start, online check-in declaring one of the two passports having expired by two days, things were looking up. We had got through baggage check-in and for the first time in my adult history, I was well under the allowance. I almost fainted. We then managed to board, not noticing while dutifully duty free shopping that our gates were about to close in ten minutes. I’d be lying if I said we didn’t pretty much run to gate 38. But we made it and that was all that mattered. That and the cold bottle of champers we simply had to have in flight, as a reward for such pre-holiday tizz.

I couldn’t wait to get off the plane, waiting for the warm air to wrap itself around us in a welcoming embrace, whisking us through the last bits of flight admin and on to Dubrovnik Old Town.

Dusk held the skies in its firm grasp and an impressive burnt orange sunset was magnificently sinking beyond the mountains. Hues of purple and royal blue merging above us. Twinkling lights guiding us along the steep coastal path to our picturesque destination.

We got off the bus at Pile Gate, the main gate into the old town. Crossing the drawbridge into the fort, I remembered reading somewhere that back in the day the Prince himself would raise this bridge of an evening and keep the key on him. A well protected town with high city walls.

As you enter the old town from the Pile Gate you find yourself on the Placa or Stradun, basically the main strip. The floor is shiny and reflects the lighting of the stunning listed buildings on either side of this high street. Ice cream seems ‘a thing’ here and tourists and locals alike are happy taking a stroll with large creamy balls of ice in their hands and wide sparkly eyes and smiles on their faces. (Italy is just across the sea)

Three or so streets to the left and we were on the lane that led, steeply, to our first abode. Our host came to greet us and politely offered to carry our cases. Eeek. I felt so guilty. I could barely carry mine, the wheels were the win, however two cases? Up 60 or more stone steps.. I bet he was bed-bound for a few days after, not that it showed. This small winding street was decorated with European greenery and twinkling lights, and bore a magical backdrop for our two nights here. The house was two tiered, bedroom and bathroom downstairs and tree-house ladder-like steps up to the kitchen, lounge and dining table. Traditional decor and spacious. We quickly showered and scrubbed up and headed out into the town.

The Placa was filled with happy holidaymakers and locals as we strolled down it hours later, admiring the shops and the old buildings. Croatia were playing their deciding game in the group stages of the World Cup that night and the air was filled with eager anticipation, the bars with chequered red and white shirts.

We settled on a restaurant past the first church, set in a lovely little square. Going by the fact it was busy we thought it ought to be good. It was. Stuffed squid and garlic and lemon pork were our mains, served with a ridiculous amount of potatoes and really good local wine. Croatia sadly didn’t beat Mexico, however they did win us over with their friendly locals and chilled out vibes.

The next day we were up to walk the city walls. These run round the entire town and boast spectacular views. Truly spectacular. The red roofs being a favourite of mine. A kind of asymmetric attention holder. Including two old men happily working on their roof with no health and safety of any kind in practice. Terrifying.

Following the walls we had lunch in the harbour. Lusting after the boats and settling on mussels and a seafood pasta. This did us nicely until we headed to East meets West Beach Club where we splashed out for a luxury sun bed and dozed off listening to some laid back beats. A swim woke us up, freezing compared to the sublime heat melting us into our mattresses. A glass of crisp white followed and we were definitely on holiday.

Once the sun had gone behind the mountain the beach began to clear, so reluctantly we made our way back to our home up in the heights and began the evening prep once more.

For dinner we returned to a restaurant above the harbour, looking down on all the boats with a fantastic clear view. A large pine tree sat in the middle, using the foliage as a roof, and curtains adorned the railings, giving this place a homely touch. Both agreed on fish we opted for monkfish wrapped in prosciutto and sea bass, filleted spectacularly in front of us. Drinking a local white wine, similar to a Sauvignon, we mulled over our lives and truly let go of London life.

Midnight cocktails in the square followed dinner, with a fantastic Croatian band providing the soundtrack. Sleepy from the day’s events and sun’s side effects, we retired, ready to check out the following day for our coach to our next destination; the port of Split.

Posted in A little travel
Tags: beach, city walls, Croatia, Dubrovnik, flight, harbour, holidays, ice cream, Old Town, Pile Gate, sunset, travel, travelling

Rand and Burns’ 7 Deadly Sins

•April 25, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Two ladies, neither of whom from culinary professions, delivered a creative feast at their one off pop-up at the Dead Doll’s House in Hoxton Square last night. Taking over one of three floors (excluding the roof terrace), their Seven Deadly Sins menu was sold out in less than two days, many of the tickets to friends of the duo and attendees of previous dinner parties.

We arrived at the House and were let into the premises by a WillIam replica, a quirky Shoreditch type in a red military uniform. He led us into the bar/ reception and we ordered an amaretto sour and a mint julep from their concise cocktail menu chalked on the wall. Shelves stacked with off-piste spirits and vintage glassware set an era, and the room was alive with eager socialite chatter.

My amaretto sour was sweet and consistent, and could rival a dessert in presentation. The julep packing a harder punch with the whisky stating it meant business. One for the end of the night I think, or it’d be game over early doors.

Not long before 8pm we were taken upstairs. A blank canvas of a room, with black doodles drawing the images associated with a home across its walls. 32 seats in a plan awaited us, mixed to encourage introductions and conversations with strangers.

A colourful starter didn’t take long to arrive, the first of our seven deadly sins; lust. Lustful baked figs with gorgonzola and prosciutto. The cheese oozed out of the fig when sliced, a tasty and clever start to the night. My slate was clear within seconds.

Next came pride; a skinny bitch’s vanity salad. We were glad this was small as we were wondering how our tummies would hold all the plates. It was great to have an assortment of fresh vegetables before the slightly stodgier courses, however this was slightly overdressed for me.

Combating my criticism, next came wrath; a grilled cod with arroz verde, guacamole and wrathfully hot sauce. This, although not visually appealing, was one of my favourite courses. The cod was meaty and flavoursome, and the rice, guac and spicy sauce combined to compliment. Would be delighted to come across this dish again.

Accompanied by a delicious Pinot Noir, gluttony was on our plates, in the form of pork belly in a tomatillo sauce. This was quite a bizarre plate as the pork came shredded, and flooded with a bogey green swamp of sauce. Strange presentation, but the pork was succulent and full of flavour, and the addition of thick crunchy crackling, made this plate quite a treat.

Envy came in a cocktail glass, a green vegetable soup. Delicious and refreshing, this was a perfect palate cleanser.

By now we were verging on full, yet a stunning slow cooked rib appeared, lathered in garlic sauce with deep fried potatoes. This was sloth, as it’s the laziest length of time cooked meat, but truly delicious, even though the garlic had my throat in its grasp for days!

We were then granted a ten minute rest and headed to the rooftop to take in the buzz of Hoxton Square at night. Twinkling lights and a cocktail bar on the floor beneath, it would have been easy to lose the night to the terrace, however the final sin; greed, was being served up to conclude the event. An almond and mandarin cake with chocolate glaze. As I usually don’t have a sweet tooth this caught me by surprise. The sponge was light and not heavily orangey, but enough to create a perfect matrimony with the thin layer of chocolate sauce on the top.

Credit where it’s due Alanna and Emily had really put the thought in for this event, and it was lovely to finish with them presented to the room and heartily applauded. I thoroughly enjoyed the Dead Doll’s House pop-up experience, Thursdays for probational pop-ups and weekends for successful residencies. Hoping we might take the JRB experience there this summer.

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: Burns, Dead Doll's House, food, Hoxton, Hoxton Square, pup-up, Rand, Seven deadly sins, Shoreditch, supperclub

Dirty dawgs.. I mean bones

•March 20, 2014 • Leave a Comment

When pootling along Kensington Church Street, an area heightened with quirk and unique personality, the loud cinema style lighting bordering the House of Dirty Bones namesake, mightn’t be too obvious.

The entrance is a simple hot dog stand by day, with shelves lined in soft drinks, and an old school pin board describing the gourmet fast food offer. By night the deserted entrance is flickering with neon lighting, similar to that of a 1950s diner, the last bit of bright lighting you’ll see before tumbling down the rabbit hole as it were, and rubbing your eyes as they learn to focus in the rather dark cocktail bar and restaurant. (I was later informed that intentional low lighting was key to award winning Lee Broom’s eclectic retro ‘dive bar’ design.)

Apparent immediately, attention to detail with the design flowed through all elements of the business, from the art deco tiling on the ceiling and walls, to distinct furniture such as the host desk pinball machine and cosy yet sexy booth seating. Comfortable for chatting and slurping on cocktails before being led through to your (30 seat) private dining room or (85 seat) restaurant reservation.

I didn’t have to wait long before a drink menu was in my hand, and Ross Clarke, ex creative development chef in the Fat Duck Experimental Kitchen, had asked me what was my tipple of choice for a cocktail base. I was quick to respond whisky, with a sparkle in my eye, knowing this often startles the askee. A twenty-something blonde that enjoys whisky, really? Really. What startled me, was the enthusiasm from Ross about this project, the detail in menu preparation and service and the genius techniques used behind the scenes. Exciting.

My drink came, a Mutt’s Nuts; Woodford Reserve, cinnamon and vanilla infused maple syrup, Angostura Bitters mixed with lemon and apple juices. Rediculously delicious, so much so it had made the dinner pairings later that night, and it wasn’t disappointing to have the same drink twice.

Following lengthy chats with Ross, the consultant chef behind this clever take on the hot dog trend, we were led through to the restaurant and seated in front of an old school DJ booth, where a jazzy soul duo were setting up, vocals and keyboard – the perfect dining accompaniment. With live music every Wednesday and Friday, this being a Wednesday, we shimmied as we dined to stunning throwback tunes like Shola Ama’s ‘you might need somebody’ and Shaka Khan’s ‘ain’t nobody’. I really was in my element.

First dish out was an Asian Dog (paired with the Mutt’s Nuts), showcasing the experimental techniques these chefs are famed for (all ex Heston establishments). The sausage was covered in Kimchi puree, wasabi mayonnaise (LOVE), crispy seaweed and sesame seeds.

This was followed by crispy spiced fried chicken with charred lemon. Moist but not greasy chicken served with an array of sauces. My favourite being Dirty Bones own barbecue sauce; a clever combination of cider, coca-cola, ginger ale, star anise, marshmallow injections, bourbon, Japanese vinegar, caramel and Dr Pepper. You can tell these guys like to play around behind the scenes, but I’m glad they did. I needed one to take home. This dish was paired with Leo the Wonderdog; El Jimador Tequila, Chateau du Breuil Calvados, and lemon and vihno verde. I adored vinho verde when I took a short trip to Porto recently, and stocked my suitcase on return, keeping the Portuguese dream alive. This cocktail was fresh, zesty and oh so high in alcohol content, yet it tasted smooth and scarily drinkable.

The last sample main was served in a sweet homemade brioche; the signature Burger Dog. An aged bavette and beef fat mince, with beer cheese that had been fermented overnight and mixed with marmite and Worcester sauce. This came smothered in Frenchies mustard and tomato ketchup and served with a Steak to the Heart cocktail; Martell cognac, blackberries, raspberries, apple juice and St Cosme Little James Basket Press. The cocktails really were something special, and reminded me of Soul Shakers, the team behind the carefully personalised cocktails at the Meat Liquor brand. The specials matched to new revolving dishes, so you can’t get too attached to a favourite.

I don’t say this often, in fact ever, but if all that hadn’t sold it; the sides were the one for me. THE SIDE DISHES. Usually restaurants lack a thought here and simply offer the obvious, but Dirty Bones took side dishes to a whole new realm.

I start with my ultimate happy face, not for sensitive stomachs, but a delight to see on any British menu; charred Padron peppers. (I was overly pleased with my photo of these too).

Then the mac and cheese. My hangover favourite (cure) came as heart-warmingly as a crumble would have, forking through a breadcrumb surface into delicious gooey taleggio pasta.

I’d be a criminal not to mention the grilled (and smoked in bourbon barrels) pickles, a fantastic palate cleanser, with their own theatre of smoke as you pop open your canister.

But the cream on the top of the milk has to be the Bourbon beans. I couldn’t stop talking about them. You need to try them for yourself.

We concluded the evening, with a nursery classic; milk and cookies. Only the milk was in fact a flavoured ice cream and the cookie was a chewie brownie style recipe. Washed down with a Top Dog cocktail; Finlandia vodka, fresh strawberry, Chambord and lemon and jaio prosecco. So refreshing.

I left feeling positively swollen, and mulled on the detail behind the drinks and the dishes all the way home, with eyelids heavier with every tube stop south.

I will definitely be returning, a perfect date or casual group dining spot.

(Images are a mix of my own and the Gaztronome)

Posted in Delicious Dining
Tags: cocktails, Dirty Bones, Fast Food Dining, Fat Duck, Heston Blumenthal, High Street Kensington, Hot Dogs, restaurant, Ross Clarke

Fuerzabruta

•February 18, 2014 • 1 Comment

Most people in London seem to have heard of it. Their eyes light up in recognition. They say they have tickets or can’t wait to see it. But no one seems to know exactly what it is. Until they’ve been. However, I’ve been and I still have absolutely no idea what was going on.

Whatever was actually going on, it was visually stunning, a test to the neck for craning, a test to your tolerance for close proximity on personal space, with elements of sheer exhilaration enhanced by the carnival atmosphere and live music.

Running additional dates for the last two months at Camden’s trendy Roundhouse, Director Diqui James and Technical Director Alejandro Garcia can proudly boast they’ve added these extra 100 shows due to popular demand. (This show actually reopened the Roundhouse back in 2006, and has since been touring the world)

Ushered through to the main stage, we were herded into the centre. Elbow to elbow with thrill seekers. The room barely lit, loud noises filled the auditorium, and the stage flooded with primary colours as seven or so enthusiastic drummers began raising everyone’s heart beats and heightening impatient moods.

Then came a handsome devil, dressed in a white suit, on a revolving catwalk through the centre. He was dramatically shot within the first ten minutes. Then he began to run, and doesn’t really stop running. Running through walls, up steps, over tables and chairs.. all a little bonkers. I assumed there was a deeper meaning, he was trying to get through middle earth or purgatory or something, to reach his place of rest. I still have no idea what he was doing. But it was interesting to watch.

Then the ceiling above us lowered. In two separate tanks, three water babies on two different sheets of thick plastic descended to just above our heads, where we happily/ weirdly could touch them. They splished, sploshed and belly flopped in shallow water above us, having such a lovely time. We leant back to watch, everyone taking pictures. No one I’m sure having any idea of why this was happening. But seemed like fun all the same.

Following another instalment from the running man, we watched a greenhouse bubble appear above us, with holes pushed through, and the actors dangling through them, all set in time to the music. Lighting and music really were impressive, as well as the creativity behind such an energetic spectacle.

The show concluded with the euphorically happy drummers’ return, craving some energy after 80 minutes of standing/ pushing/ nudging, I thoroughly enjoyed their final set, and perhaps wished they had featured more.

A pleasant experience, be it a little bewildering, as I fear the ‘brute force’ was sadly a little lost on me.

Posted in Bizarre yet captivating
Tags: Camden, Fuerzabruta, lighting, performance, postmodern theatre, Roundhouse, special effects