tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25701398220133956512024-03-14T06:42:49.779+00:00THE CULINARY TALESA BLOG FROM A VORACIOUS EATERHelena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-63926956938203961972014-04-09T19:40:00.001+01:002014-04-10T17:43:05.051+01:00A Dish a Day: Polpetto’s Clams with Wild Garlic<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eGzEfkYY6Nk/U0WSZQXL7xI/AAAAAAAABDg/HV-xMBv8A4I/s1600/CLAMS+GARLIC.JPG" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clams with wild garlic and crème fraiche</td></tr>
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Today the spotlight is on the clam. Particularly the ones in the newly opened Polpetto in Soho: fiddly to get to and salty to taste, slightly sweet on the chew and enveloped in a thin coating of sauce (crème fraiche with wilted wild garlic). The fingers of focaccia are torn off to mop up the juices and collect the flecks of wild garlic flowers.<br />
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In between dishes are sips from a tumbler of a sweet bellini, softly fizzy and pink with rose and rhubarb.<br />
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The second best dish consists of slivers of cauliflower with the edges browned and wizened, a sculptural shard next to plump scallops, and hidden under the folded fat that is lardo. All on a cream-coloured purée of truffled cauliflower, which is utterly moreish.<br />
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Actually, joint second is a dish of <a href="http://www.natoora.co.uk/shop/vegetables/tomatoes/sicilian-marinda-tomatoes/prod9087.html" target="_blank">Marinda tomatoes</a> from Sicily which are naked bar a modest lick of oil. In short, I recommend that you visit <a href="http://polpetto.co.uk/%20" target="_blank">Polpetto</a> in Berwick Street, because it seems at home in its new home and you’ll soon feel at home there too. Especially when you've a bellini or two in hand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PS81ty6cYvU/U0WSah6BM9I/AAAAAAAABDo/MnT-iasyUQE/s1600/MARINDA+TOMATO.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PS81ty6cYvU/U0WSah6BM9I/AAAAAAAABDo/MnT-iasyUQE/s1600/MARINDA+TOMATO.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rude bottom of a Marina tomato</td></tr>
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<i>Polpetto
11 Berwick St, London W1F 0PL
020 7439 8627</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Read my <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/2011/02/polpetto.html%20" target="_blank">first thoughts</a> on the original Polpetto.<br />
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<a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/119727/Polpetto?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Polpetto"><img alt="Square Meal" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/119727/get-blog-review/image/medium.png" height="90" width="170" /></a>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-90334102676921357402014-02-10T09:57:00.000+00:002014-02-14T13:20:23.125+00:00A Dish a Day: Blood Orange Posset<div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ramblings from a voracious eater </span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10pt;">on the dish that made her day</span></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0IodmV75zC8/UvfSbVJ6bXI/AAAAAAAABB8/J5qunG5rD7o/s1600/BLOOD+ORANGE+POSSET.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0IodmV75zC8/UvfSbVJ6bXI/AAAAAAAABB8/J5qunG5rD7o/s1600/BLOOD+ORANGE+POSSET.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blood orange posset</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Once a year, around January
and February, the sunset colours of blood oranges give us wintry cheer. The
oranges that we have are from Sicily - from the foothills of Mount Etna, so
<a href="http://www.riverford.co.uk/mer/shop/seasons/specials/blood-oranges-1kg" target="_blank">Riverford</a> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 150%;">tells me, and the blush of the segments varies
from modest to deep crimson - evoking those Mediterranean hues of the evening
sky.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">After considering a granita or
a jelly, I decide to make a posset. I haven’t many oranges left (after many are
consumed nakedly fresh, without fanfare, and as instant cure for the effects from the-night-before) and posset doesn't require a lot of juice. With
its use of three ingredients – oranges, sugar and cream, this is possibly one
of the simplest puddings to make while looking as though you've put in abundant
effort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> </span><span style="line-height: 15.6pt; text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IYcPV6BfO0s/UvfSWcCbiqI/AAAAAAAABB0/XaldPJ7NQZU/s1600/BLOOD+ORANGE+SQUEEZE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IYcPV6BfO0s/UvfSWcCbiqI/AAAAAAAABB0/XaldPJ7NQZU/s1600/BLOOD+ORANGE+SQUEEZE.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squeezing the orange</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Georgia Bold Italic', serif;">Serves 4-6<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>125ml fresh blood orange juice (about 2 oranges)<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>500ml double cream<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>115-120g caster sugar (to taste. I don’t like it too sweet)<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>Zest from one orange<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>Blood orange segments - from 1 or 2 oranges<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>Shortbread to serve</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Put all the ingredients into a pan - I love pouring the blood orange juice in last and watching the ruby liquid marble the cream as I stir with a wooden spoon. Like thick paints that you mix in primary school, watch the cream turn a pale peach (not unlike the colour of strawberry angel delight).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Heat until it reaches a simmer, then cook on the lowest heat for five minutes. Take off the heat and cool at room temperature. This should take an hour or two. Stretch clingfilm over the mixture to prevent a skin forming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cRObS_5Sp-c/UvfSQ60XkbI/AAAAAAAABBs/GIM5Z0v7rQ0/s1600/BLOOD+ORANGE+POSSETS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cRObS_5Sp-c/UvfSQ60XkbI/AAAAAAAABBs/GIM5Z0v7rQ0/s1600/BLOOD+ORANGE+POSSETS.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Served up</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Pour into champagne coupe glasses and chill in the fridge until set (another three hours at least). Garnish with two segments of blood orange and serve immediately with a thin shortbread.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i><b>More reading</b></i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>Diana Henry writes a fascinating article about the blood orange <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/recipes/8958756/Beautiful-blood-orange-recipes.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></span></div>
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<br />Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-87740471567155724672014-02-07T11:40:00.000+00:002014-02-09T11:40:24.202+00:00A Dish a Day: Slow roasted lamb shoulder on a bed of potatoes<div>
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<i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Ramblings from a voracious
eater </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">on the dish that made her day</span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DvP3Vg8uFa4/UvNUibiRWqI/AAAAAAAABBY/FnQeyRrjRAs/s1600/LAMB+SHOULDER+BOULANGER+POTATOES.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DvP3Vg8uFa4/UvNUibiRWqI/AAAAAAAABBY/FnQeyRrjRAs/s1600/LAMB+SHOULDER+BOULANGER+POTATOES.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunday lunch on a Tuesday: lamb shoulder and potatoes</td></tr>
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A Sunday lunch meal for a Tuesday night supper. Not everyone has the luxury of pottering in the kitchen in the daytime, making friends for five hours with a juicy lamb shoulder on a layer of sliced potatoes. But luckily for us our friend Stew has; he is executing a Tom Kerridge recipe - a one tray dish for five hungry friends (six if you include the dog, who aches for that bone). The tender meat is a little garlicky, has hints of rosemary. The potatoes are soaked with juices from the lamb, they are salted and encrusted with it. Half an hour before serving, Stew has to decant some of the lamb juices and put the bed of potatoes (sans lamb) back in the oven to crust them up even more, and these become the most coveted bits that everyone wants to steal off one another's plates.<br />
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I find lamb the most communal of the meats; all round the table partake in the shredding (in particular the hapless labradoodle Ted whose wet nose pops up every five minutes to see whether we've finished).<br />
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Stew forgets to tell us that there's another course before the trifle: that he's put a camembert in the oven topped with caramelised onions, served - in wholesome manner - with homemade bread. We make noises and grumble that we would have been more abstinent with our second helpings - both of lamb and last bits of potato in the tray that we dig straight into with our spoons. But in truth, we really wouldn't have.<br />
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<i>Watch Tom Kerridge's video recipe of slow-cooked lamb shoulder with boulangere potatoes <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/slow_cooked_lamb_26033" target="_blank">here</a>.</i><br />
<br />Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-83417330069506499072014-02-04T09:12:00.001+00:002014-02-04T09:25:22.699+00:00A Dish a Day: Tom Yum Soup - a Monday night supper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia;">Ramblings from a voracious eater </i></div>
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<i style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia;">on the dish that made her day</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XnphEwyvcfg/UvAh4HRrITI/AAAAAAAABBE/03kJONZtc48/s1600/TOM+YUM+SOUP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XnphEwyvcfg/UvAh4HRrITI/AAAAAAAABBE/03kJONZtc48/s1600/TOM+YUM+SOUP.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A quick bowl of steaming Tom Yum soup</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Today, supper is a Thai Tom Yum soup - a warming furnace that sets
innards alight; igniting the body with its head-clearing properties. The broth
itself is clean and wholesome, but when you add those classic four flavours -
sweet, salty, hot and sour - right at the end, the soup is transformed into
something spectacular. Most enjoyable is the rasp of chilli that hits the back
of your throat just when you least expect it. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">I had some chicken bones in the freezer that I used to make a
quick stock, but if you have ready made stock, this soup for two can be cooked
in ten minutes. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hpt7l_mqilc/UvAhRInBHgI/AAAAAAAABA8/tbOvabiraPM/s1600/TOM+YUM+INGREDIENTS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hpt7l_mqilc/UvAhRInBHgI/AAAAAAAABA8/tbOvabiraPM/s1600/TOM+YUM+INGREDIENTS.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom Yum ingredients:<br />
coriander, lemongrass, chilli, ginger, kaffir lime leaves</td></tr>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Simply heat up a litre of light chicken stock until boiling. Turn
the the stock down to a simmer and add all the fragrants: a stick of
lemongrass, a few slices of ginger, a few slices of galangal (or a teaspoon of
paste), a handful of coriander stems and 2 or 3 kaffir lime leaves - all
bruised slightly with a pestle. The flavours will infuse perfectly after a 5
minute simmer. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Fish out the spices, add a big handful of king prawns and cook
until pink. Turn off the heat add some splashes of fish sauce, a teaspoon of
palm sugar, a generous squeeze of lime and plenty of sliced chilli (birdseye is
the best - and as much as you can manage) - enough to blast through the
February chill. Garnish with coriander leaves and a slices of spring
onion. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Serve with rice and feel restored. </span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Other Tom Yum recipes</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">I'm a big fan of Felicity Cloake's 'Perfect' series. Read about
her perfect Tom Yum soup<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2012/feb/09/cook-perfect-tom-yum-soup" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Andrew Kojima's<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/recipes/10564308/Fragrant-tom-yum-soup-recipe.html" target="_blank">version</a> for the Telegraph is
quick and easy. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-82853120803228936232014-02-03T08:54:00.000+00:002014-02-04T08:56:09.056+00:00A Dish a Day: Beef Rendang (for ten)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia;"><i>Ramblings from a voracious eater on the dish that made her day</i></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tVqFGhIZ_YM/Uu_tPmfNkBI/AAAAAAAABAk/69KGHh8tN80/s1600/RENDANG+AND+BEANS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tVqFGhIZ_YM/Uu_tPmfNkBI/AAAAAAAABAk/69KGHh8tN80/s1600/RENDANG+AND+BEANS.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beef rendang and green beans with prawns and coconut</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">‘It’s England v
France on Saturday, can we host the match?’ he asks. It’s rugby season. The Six
Nations is about to begin. I can tell he wants to cook </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">beouf bourguignon </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">(or to be patriotic, beef stew).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I’ve got other
ideas. I’ve a craving for spices and chilli and put my case in for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peranakan_cuisine" target="_blank">Nonya</a> food from Malaysia. I have in mind the deep, complex textures of beef rendang; pieces of beef
shin cooked down in coconut milk until tender and spiced with the flavours of
South-East Asia: lemongrass, galangal, chilli… ‘Indulge me,’ I plead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">‘Okay, but
what’s that got to do with England (or France for that matter)?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">‘Umm...’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">‘I suppose there
is Rory and Tony Underwood…’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Rory Underwood
was a rugby hero of mine when I was younger, the England wing whose
Malaysian-Chinese heritage made our family proud whenever he was on the pitch.
He reminded me of my older brother, my other rugby hero (though only for about
three years, and on a cold, Hertfordshire school pitch). When both he and his
brother Tony played for England, the camera would pan onto their diminutive mother,
who fiercely cheered at the sides. We adored her in our household, and enjoyed
the incongruity of stern Chinese mother letting rip at a rugby match. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">And so the
conversation goes on and the ‘Underwood menu’ is born: beef rendang, green
beans in a light prawn and coconut sauce, and tamarind chicken. At kick-off,
the rendang is ready; each piece coated with four hours of flavour. It’s had a
lot of oven love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">England loses.
By a sliver of a breath. The room is inconsolable. There’s only one thing to
do, and that’s to tuck into seconds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5dpYeVVdWH0/Uu_tiBTspdI/AAAAAAAABAs/_zNwE8WNoh0/s1600/POUNDING+RENDANG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5dpYeVVdWH0/Uu_tiBTspdI/AAAAAAAABAs/_zNwE8WNoh0/s1600/POUNDING+RENDANG.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruising the rendang spices before putting in the spice grinder</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><b><i>Beef Rendang (serves 8-10)</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">In the past, I’ve cooked rendang with more spices – star anise, cinnamon, cardamom. This time I used a recipe from ‘<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-New-Mrs-Lees-Cookbook/dp/9812327045" target="_blank">The New Mrs Lee’s Cookbook: Nonya Cuisine</a>’ as a base, which calls for minimal spices. I've also adapted proportions and cooking time (her recipe calls for boiling for 30 minutes, but the shin would be toughened by rapid cooking).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>3 onions, sliced<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>1.8kg beef shin, diced<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>3 x 400ml cans of coconut milk<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>3 slices of <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/2011/05/bank-holiday-asam-udang-tamarind-prawns.html" target="_blank">tamarind</a> block soaked in 400ml boiling water, then paste squeezed through a sieve (available from Chinese supermarkets)<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>2 handfuls of dessicated coconut – toasted in a dry pan until light brown. These give texture to the tender pieces of shin<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>2 tablespoons palm sugar<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>Salt</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">In the spice grinder: rendang spice paste<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">12 slices galangal<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">12 slices ginger<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">12 cloves garlic<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">6 red chillies (usually made with 15 dried chillies, but I only have fresh ones)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">3 stalks lemon grass (white part only)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">3 tablespoons ground coriander<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">1 and ½ teaspoons ground cumin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Preheat the oven to 160C or 140C (fan oven).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Bruise and roughly chop the rendang paste ingredients, before either pounding (hard work) or spice grinding into a paste.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">In a big heavy bottomed pan, add the spice paste and the rest of the ingredients. Stir to make sure every piece of beef is mixed well with the coconut milk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Half cover the pan with a lid and stew in the oven for 2 hours. Bring up to the stove top and skim the fat off with a spoon. It’s worth doing this as there will be a lot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Bubble for another 1-2 hours on a medium heat until a third of the gravy is left. Stir frequently to avoid the stew sticking to the bottom of the pan. The stew should be quite dry and change colour to a deep deep brown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Serve with rice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><b>Other rendang recipes</b><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Feast to the World contends that rendang doesn’t have coconut milk or tamarind in it. I look forward to trying his recipe <a href="http://www.feasttotheworld.com/2012/02/cold-remedy-beef-rendang-spicy-slow.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">For another variation, here’s a recipe for ox cheek and venison <a href="http://www.mummyicancook.com/2012/11/ox-cheek-and-venison-rendang.html" target="_blank">rendang</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-21350040508681751942014-02-01T15:37:00.001+00:002014-02-03T08:43:03.673+00:00 A Dish a Day: The Rum Kitchen’s Jerk Fried Chicken Thighs<br />
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Ramblings from a voracious eater on the dish that made her day</i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u6UdEHOm8Eg/Uu0S2NUn7BI/AAAAAAAABAU/4uRneYXi_AM/s1600/RUM+KITCHEN+JERK+CHICKEN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u6UdEHOm8Eg/Uu0S2NUn7BI/AAAAAAAABAU/4uRneYXi_AM/s1600/RUM+KITCHEN+JERK+CHICKEN.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The jerk chicken garnished with onion rings</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Though a lapsed vegetarian’s weakness may be bacon, mine would be steak or fried chicken. And as this is a celebratory dinner (heralding one promotion, and the end of the week), we ought to eat in celebratory manner. Hence two rum sours, one classic daiquiri and a portion of fried chicken. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Outside the Rum Kitchen are the clean lines of Carnaby Street’s Kingly Court. Inside is a holiday of Caribbean colour, tactile waitresses, reggae and rum. Diners are here for one reason only: to party. If they aren’t partying now, they will certainly be partying later. All this place needs is to do away with the tables, install a beach and a pool the colour of the ocean, and the beach shack it so aspires to be is complete. There is no standing on ceremony here, it’s fingers in as the food arrives. The chicken is crunchy with a heavy-handed deep nut-brown batter but delicately spiced - too delicately perhaps (I’d like more allspice and ginger in mine). Stacked on top are onion rings (light and crisp), pineapple slaw (where is the pineapple?), and ‘rum jerk bbq ketchup’ (satisfying, fruitily tart and scotch bonnet hot). It’s not the best jerk chicken I’ve had; I’m not sure whether my St Kitts sister-in-law would approve, but when you’re nursing that daiquiri and you know the lie of the evening land ahead, it will be the best £7.50 you have ever spent. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J3i8eY75ulw/Uu0Sw15EfeI/AAAAAAAABAM/OtlLPyhN0zE/s1600/RUM+KITCHEN+DAIQUIRI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J3i8eY75ulw/Uu0Sw15EfeI/AAAAAAAABAM/OtlLPyhN0zE/s1600/RUM+KITCHEN+DAIQUIRI.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Classic Daiquiri</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: italic;"><a href="http://therumkitchen.com/" target="_blank">Rum Kitchen</a>, 1st Floor, Kingly Court, Carnaby, Soho, W1B 5PW</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1805374/restaurant/Soho/The-Rum-Kitchen-London"><img alt="The Rum Kitchen on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1805374/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/120533/The_Rum_Kitchen_Carnaby?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of The Rum Kitchen Carnaby"><img alt="Square Meal" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/120533/get-blog-review/image/medium.png" height="90" width="170" /></a>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-6340845685991610512014-01-31T15:00:00.002+00:002014-02-01T08:48:24.662+00:00A dish a day: Bocca di Lupo’s Rabbit Saltimbocca<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The voracious eater on the dish that made her day </i>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zw3WhkQZAwc/Uuu4PQt1dMI/AAAAAAAAA_4/k-b874LXeGg/s1600/BOCCA+DI+LUPO+BURRATA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zw3WhkQZAwc/Uuu4PQt1dMI/AAAAAAAAA_4/k-b874LXeGg/s320/BOCCA+DI+LUPO+BURRATA.JPG" /></a></div>
Every now and then, an evening falls into place. When you can, with half closed eyes, sit back and appreciate how right it feels and let it swim over you in that moment. Last night, London thrilled in a way I’d forgotten it could – I’d been away in dreamlike Brazil for three weeks on honeymoon; the cold rain quickly washed away any vestige of sun and samba – but wandering the streets of Soho surrounded by lights blinking and the sound of spirited drinking, I knew there was a reason this was my favourite city.<br />
<br />
That moment last night happened in a dimly lit Bocca di Lupo, on a first date back in London with my new husband (I’m still stumbling over that word – I’m a terrible newlywed). We’d done that classic Soho thing of wandering from restaurant to restaurant after drinks, admiring yet annoyed at the queues outside each one. But of course, on the quiet of Archer Street, peering into the window of Bocca di Lupo was like looking into the warmth of your grandmother’s fireplace through a frosty window. It was irresistible. It was nostalgic. I’ll always remember my first visit here, when I ate one of the best pasta dishes of my life – rigatoni with <i>guanciale</i> (cured pigs cheeks); a simple dish but for some reason impossible to recreate.<br />
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To be honest, I could talk about the whole menu – the ungovernable cream of burrata (pictured) which licked the aubergine beneath, the clever clever salad of wafer thin radish and celeriac (layered with the salt tang of pecorino, bursts of sweet pomegranate, uplifted with the unmistakable whiff of truffle), the teal that was squashed open and grilled to perfection, and lay on a bed of deep red <i>treviso</i>.<br />
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But it was the first taste of <i>saltimbocca</i> that made us truly relax. We’d been frantically talking – about what Antonio Carluccio was eating (he was sitting on the next table, tucking into a <i>treviso </i>salad), about the future, about the crazy two weeks since coming back to work – and ate frantically to match. But when it arrived, the meal felt complete. Under a blanket of prosciutto was flattened rabbit loin – pale and glistening. Before each piece could reach our mouths, we would run it over the serving plate again, mopping all the rabbity Marsala it could; on bite - a little salty, a little sweet, a little tender, a little crisp.
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YomhdM14Mfc/Uuu4KvbDVpI/AAAAAAAAA_w/7ar7CBc_ljo/s1600/GELUPO+GELATO.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YomhdM14Mfc/Uuu4KvbDVpI/AAAAAAAAA_w/7ar7CBc_ljo/s320/GELUPO+GELATO.JPG" /></a></div>
After the meal, we ran over the road to <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/how-to-impress-your-date-gelupo-in-soho.html" target="_blank">Gelupo</a> for some salted caramel and fresh mint ice cream. We huddled over a table and shared three scoops. It didn’t matter that we were in the thick of winter. This was what we were coming back for – the cold, the wet, Bocca di Lupo and a whole host of dates in the best city in the world.<br />
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<i><a href="http://boccadilupo.com/">Bocca di Lupo</a>, 12 Archer Street, London, W1D 7BB, 020 7734 2223</i><br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1346071/restaurant/London/Bocca-Di-Lupo-Soho"><img alt="Bocca Di Lupo on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1346071/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/101365/Bocca_Di_Lupo?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Bocca di Lupo"><img alt="Square Meal" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/101365/get-blog-review/image/medium.png" height="90" width="170" /></a>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-26404670571557113612013-01-22T09:34:00.000+00:002013-01-22T09:34:47.875+00:00The big breakfast: what to eat after a snow run<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kAsnhj5w_8M/UP5Zu_O39dI/AAAAAAAAA7M/9wDdjLL-GG4/s1600/WANDSWORTH+TREE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kAsnhj5w_8M/UP5Zu_O39dI/AAAAAAAAA7M/9wDdjLL-GG4/s400/WANDSWORTH+TREE.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snowy run in Wandsworth Common</td></tr>
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During his polar expedition Sir Ranulph Fiennes ate 5,200 calories a day. With this in mind, seeing how snowy it was on Sunday morning, we went on our own expedition (round Wandsworth Common) with the promise of a big breakfast fit for explorers. Running in the snow can be a hazardous business. Just think - snow in your eyes; cold ears; ponds that masquerade as paths. But these dangers, I believed, were all worth conquering for the spoils that were waiting for us at home...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ux8EQ4AoIZo/UP5Z_BSKVgI/AAAAAAAAA7U/jchFsC2Da60/s1600/BREAKFAST+BOX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ux8EQ4AoIZo/UP5Z_BSKVgI/AAAAAAAAA7U/jchFsC2Da60/s400/BREAKFAST+BOX.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The breakfast box</td></tr>
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...namely a box of breakfast goods. <a href="http://www.denhay.co.uk/spoiltpig/" target="_blank">Spoiltpig</a> sausages and bacon from Denhay Farm in Dorset's Bridport, mushrooms, eggs, ketchup and smoked chipotle salsa from <a href="http://www.tracklements.co.uk/products/index.html" target="_blank">Tracklements</a> and HP sauce.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XtsDa5USa74/UP5aEMk3jkI/AAAAAAAAA7c/oIZrkEqSk-g/s1600/WANDSWORTH+RUN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XtsDa5USa74/UP5aEMk3jkI/AAAAAAAAA7c/oIZrkEqSk-g/s400/WANDSWORTH+RUN.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A long stretch ahead in Wandsworth</td></tr>
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The run was refreshing rather than spikily cold. The snow underfoot - crunchy on grass and squeaky on pavements - gave extra satisfaction to a standard park jog. We ran for breakfast, there was no doubt about it, but it was a joy to run through, especially as we emerged unscathed, without injury and most importantly, without falling over.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jqXC1ey45cM/UP5aJkw0YLI/AAAAAAAAA7k/bEejMgwDXC0/s1600/THE+BREAKFAST.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jqXC1ey45cM/UP5aJkw0YLI/AAAAAAAAA7k/bEejMgwDXC0/s400/THE+BREAKFAST.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The breakfast...</td></tr>
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There was no point trying to go fancy. It was all about the classic. Grilled sausages and bacon and fried eggs. Mushrooms fried whole and rolled in the pan with thyme, a slick of butter and a squeeze of lemon. The sausages were fulsome - they had a deep herby flavour - almost black puddingy in depth, but the texture was strangely crumbly. The unsmoked back bacon was very thinly sliced - to the point where there was not much choice but to crisp them up, but that was no detriment to the taste. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HJdoeDB5ELM/UP5aNp1GvMI/AAAAAAAAA7s/PvBFwNZj25g/s1600/BURFORD+BROWN+EGGS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HJdoeDB5ELM/UP5aNp1GvMI/AAAAAAAAA7s/PvBFwNZj25g/s400/BURFORD+BROWN+EGGS.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Burford Brown eggs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fried Burford Brown eggs</td></tr>
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The real winners were the <a href="http://www.waitrose.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductView-10317-10001-22597-C/Court+Burford+Browns+f/range+eggs.html?storeId=10317" target="_blank">Burford Brown eggs</a> from Clarence Court, their sunset orange yolks added creamy rich luxury to the breakfast. Though I found their ketchup too sweet, the <a href="http://www.tracklements.co.uk/products/salsas/Smoked_Chipotle_Salsa/" target="_blank">smoked chipotle salsa</a> from Tracklements was also a welcome discovery. Though it may not be my breakfast staple, I can see it working with cooked meats.<br />
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The snow is set to stay awhile. I think that means more breakfast. <br />
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<i>Other things we made with the breakfasty ingredients:</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ow017KPleuE/UP5ap6gAskI/AAAAAAAAA8U/Yb1e1vx6A7A/s1600/CARBONARA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ow017KPleuE/UP5ap6gAskI/AAAAAAAAA8U/Yb1e1vx6A7A/s400/CARBONARA.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carbonara with spoiltpig bacon</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><i>Spaghetti carbonara:</i> Burford Brown eggs, parmesan, parsley, spoiltpig bacon, garlic</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UgZDw9LcRuM/UP5an2WlaqI/AAAAAAAAA8M/eUnwB6MP7oE/s1600/SAUSAGE+AND+BEAN+STEW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UgZDw9LcRuM/UP5an2WlaqI/AAAAAAAAA8M/eUnwB6MP7oE/s400/SAUSAGE+AND+BEAN+STEW.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sausage and butterbean stew with chipotle salsa</td></tr>
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<i>Sausage and butterbean stew: </i>spoiltpig sausages, garlic, thyme, butterbeans, onion, cloves, tomatoes, dollop of chipotle salsa<br />
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<i>With thanks to Phipps for the breakfast box</i><br />
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<i>Click <a href="http://www.shakeupyourwakeup.com/" target="_blank">here</a> for more recipe ideas. </i><br />
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Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-29460821739318538652013-01-01T11:30:00.000+00:002013-01-01T11:30:03.044+00:00New Culinary Tales with New Culinary Presents<br />
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Having professed that I don’t make resolutions (read my <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/new-years-hix.html" target="_blank">attempt to give up red meat</a> last January), I am a glutton for punishment and shall make some more. Friends and family have been generous with their culinary Christmas presents, so it would be rude not to use them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I, therefore, vow to cook more with these enabling gifts in 2013. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here are the new additions to the kitchen, and what I will do with them: </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Clockwise, starting from far left: spice grinder, fine mini grater, ice cream machine, David Hockney tray, meat thermometer, tea ball.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>The spice grinder </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s easy to be a martyr for the spice-pounding cause. A few years ago my mother bought me ‘The Little Nyonya’ - a Singaporean epic drama set in Malacca, Malaysia. The protagonist, a Cinderella-type figure, would seek refuge in her cooking crouched on the floor as she pestled all the spices in her mortar for babi pongteh (braised pork-belly stew), winning love and a husband along the way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have since discovered that crouching for two hours on the kitchen floor pounding spices for curries and satays won’t win you love. It is a highly antisocial activity. If you live in a first floor flat like me, pity the residents on the floor below - victims of constant dull thudding for hours on end. And pity anyone who comes near as you stink of shallots and turmeric. And the blisters - let’s not even talk about the blisters. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I think of the spice grinder as the gateway to the food of the straits of Malacca, and to social acceptance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The fine grater</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A grater not just for zesting but for making mush of ginger. When I cook Hainanese chicken, one of the sauces requires smoking hot oil to be poured over grated ginger with the most satisfying sizzle. My box grater produces woody shards of ginger, which doesn’t meld well with the oil. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The ice cream machine</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I am desperate to make Christmas pudding ice cream (in my head, just vanilla flavoured with clumps of leftover pud folded in. Or should the base be laced with brandy in the place of brandy butter?). Also Campari sorbet for summer. I wished and was good, and Santa delivered. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The David Hockney tray </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This present from my betrothed is his way of asking me to make more tea. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The meat thermometer </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m not a roast-meat purist. By that I mean that I often judge my pork belly or beef joint by looking and poking and slicing it open. Obviously, this is not ideal. If anyone asks me for different levels of done-ness this will send me into a spiral of panic - hence the meat thermometer. According to Heston Blumenthal (and who can argue with HB?), to achieve a rare rib of beef the central insides need to reach 55C. Gone are the days of putting a licked finger to the wind, now I can brandish my digital meat wand. Panic no more, Miss Lee, panic no more. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"><b>The tea ball</b></span></div>
I have stacks of loose leaf tea, abandoned and crying in the dark at the back of my cupboards. Now with my new tea ball I can unearth the Japanese roasted rice tea, the darjeeling, the strange LOV teas I’m not sure I’ll like. Or I could use it for infusing bouquet garni in soups... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Here's to endless feasting in 2013. </span></span></div>
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Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-25498910748932982252012-12-31T12:36:00.000+00:002012-12-31T13:05:30.732+00:00Voracious is Square Meal's Food Blogger to Follow in 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">New Year’s Eve dinner tonight. Our host is cooking venison, and I have been charged with preparing something to <i>amuse </i>the<i> bouches</i>. My first thought was to make my friend Sonia’s bloody Mary cherry tomatoes (tomatoes filled with infused vodka and worcester sauce) but I lack some basic equipment (syringe and needle). Perhaps <a href="http://uktv.co.uk/food/recipe/aid/640851" target="_blank">Hix quail’s egg shooters</a> instead - the insides still wibbly and topped with crunchy bacon and chives - each to be downed in one. We have plenty of time to decide, plenty of time until countdown.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Whatever it is, it needs to be fabulous to round off a fabulous year. Last week, the restaurant authority <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/" target="_blank">Square Meal</a> tweeted me to say that I was one of their fifteen ‘<a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/feature/food-bloggers-follow-2013/16965" target="_blank">food bloggers to follow in 2013</a>’. What a marvellous accolade, especially when amidst the company of the likes of <a href="http://www.twelvepointfivepercent.com/" target="_blank">Hugh Wright</a>, the perfect <a href="http://felicitycloake.com/" target="_blank">Felicity Cloake</a>, gloriously acerbic <a href="http://cheesenbiscuits.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Chris Pople</a> and <a href="http://eatlikeagirl.com/" target="_blank">Niamh Shields</a> among others. It’s also heartening to discover quality blogs - more reading to look forward to next year. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I also write about food (and the arts and culture) for <a href="http://www.harpersbazaar.co.uk/" target="_blank">Harper's Bazaar</a>, so if this blog does go a bit quiet, I may be at my Bazaar blog <a href="http://www.harpersbazaar.co.uk/archives/blogs/by_author/70813/15;1" target="_blank">here</a> or writing for their restaurant guide <a href="http://www.harpersbazaar.co.uk/guide/restaurant/" target="_blank">here</a> instead. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Anyway, thank you kindly for reading my culinary tales and I hope you continue to enjoy them fully in 2013. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Happy New Year!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Click <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/feature/food-bloggers-follow-2013/16965" target="_blank">here</a> for the full Square Meal feature.</span></i></span></div>
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<br />Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-89933493056152597632012-12-24T17:07:00.001+00:002012-12-31T13:07:27.572+00:00Christmas Clementine Champagne<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kM_X_4yF3bM/UNiLE8ZCVII/AAAAAAAAA3g/nOnX2Ha_ePE/s1600/HELENA+CHRISTMAS+CLEMENTINE+CHAMPGNE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kM_X_4yF3bM/UNiLE8ZCVII/AAAAAAAAA3g/nOnX2Ha_ePE/s320/HELENA+CHRISTMAS+CLEMENTINE+CHAMPGNE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I'm feeling festive. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The rustle of present wrapping accompanies the camp jazz-hands neon lights on the tree. We're looking forward to </span>the hearty out-of-tune warbling at midnight mass tonight, the sprouts (with bacon, chestnuts and a splash of soy sauce, if you please), roast duck and crispy potatoes tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">And of course - the drinks. Instead of Buck's fizz, we’re having clementine champagne in the Lee household. I don't like the idea of drowning out a crisp Champagne with a potent juice, so this is my alternative.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Squeeze out the juice from 10 clementines after zesting one of them, bring the juice and zest to a simmer with 200g of caster sugar and a cinnamon stick for 3 minutes. Strain. Cool on a wintry kitchen ledge, then on Christmas morning, pour a splash in each glass and top up with Champagne (or sparkling water for the children). </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">A fresh, boozy, merry start to the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Happy Christmas for tomorrow!</span></div>
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Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-33840417221911381052012-09-29T21:25:00.005+01:002012-12-24T18:05:57.257+00:00Kaosarn, St John's Hill: Guaranteed Good Times<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OMmfxAdbTw0/UGdTU2OtPeI/AAAAAAAAA2c/wRvBOn-qhuU/s1600/KAOSARN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OMmfxAdbTw0/UGdTU2OtPeI/AAAAAAAAA2c/wRvBOn-qhuU/s320/KAOSARN.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">‘Why don’t we go to Kaosarn instead?’ The text from wine-botherer <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/RUTH%20FORD." target="_blank">Ruth Ford</a> read a year or so ago when I suggested we visit some upstart of a restaurant in Brixton village. ‘I’ve heard not-great things about ___, but Kaosarn will be guaranteed good times.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We didn’t end up going for some reason or another, but that epithet stuck with me. In my head, Kaosarn became the unfaddy, honest restaurant we all needed round the corner. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oh the excitement, the unfettered joy we felt when we heard that Kaosarn was opening on St John’s Hill in Wandsworth. The lead came from a tweet from <a href="https://twitter.com/lukemackaycooks" target="_blank">Luke Mackay</a> that the much-loved Thai canteen was making its way westward, expanding from its Brixton home closer to my home. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-68W32jtN_-k/UGdT2Ek8K9I/AAAAAAAAA3E/EOa30PAdm94/s1600/KAOSARN+LIGHT.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-68W32jtN_-k/UGdT2Ek8K9I/AAAAAAAAA3E/EOa30PAdm94/s320/KAOSARN+LIGHT.png" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">St John’s Hill has had a strange relationship with restaurants - so often has some unsuspecting and naive budding-restaurateur arrived and fled within the year. St John’s hill is no Northcote Road - sans gloss and prams, but it’s lately had an influx of good things happen to it. Joining the rather brilliant <a href="http://www.thefishclub.com/" target="_blank">Fish Club</a>, French deli and Chinese <a href="http://www.goodearthgroup.co.uk/expresses.php" target="_blank">Good Earth Express</a> were <a href="http://benscanteen.com/" target="_blank">Ben’s Canteen</a>, which recently hosted a dinner from Roganic’s ex head-chef Ben Spalding, and two new popular drinking establishments - the Plough and <a href="http://www.powderkegdiplomacy.co.uk/" target="_blank">Powder Keg Diplomacy</a>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thrown into the mix is Kaosarn, the Thai canteen with the cult following. And the ‘Hill’ has been screaming - aching, in fact - for a place like this. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Opening today, it was manned by a full staff of efficient ladies and led by the industrious Gisele. Much more of a restaurant than the cafe in Brixton, the space is roomy and light (there’s a back room that can be hired for private functions as well), with tables lit intimately with candles. The menu is so extensive (the first page already divided into starters, salads, noodles and soups) we had to reign ourselves in. Armed with four bottles of Chang beer from the offie across the road, we were ready. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1vtbGZbzv84/UGdTbBF8qDI/AAAAAAAAA2k/v-_MHBZqoXA/s1600/MOO+PING_KAOSARN.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1vtbGZbzv84/UGdTbBF8qDI/AAAAAAAAA2k/v-_MHBZqoXA/s320/MOO+PING_KAOSARN.png" width="317" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On Gisele’s recommendation we started with moo ping - skewers of tender pork, sticky with sauce and dark and shiny with the caramelisation of palm sugar. It was a confident and competent start to the meal. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YZ7iawTIGkw/UGdTksgztFI/AAAAAAAAA2s/b2K1QqWSu38/s1600/TOM+KHA+GAI_YUM+WOONSEN.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YZ7iawTIGkw/UGdTksgztFI/AAAAAAAAA2s/b2K1QqWSu38/s320/TOM+KHA+GAI_YUM+WOONSEN.png" width="317" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The tom kha gai - chicken pieces in a hot coconut soup - was a compact explosion of flavours - laced with chilli and lemongrass and flavoured with slices of galangal and plump mushrooms. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qKNlrCfJRW0/UGdTqfV-7vI/AAAAAAAAA20/bQjNWE01A5c/s1600/PAD+PRIG+GANG_KAOSARN.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qKNlrCfJRW0/UGdTqfV-7vI/AAAAAAAAA20/bQjNWE01A5c/s320/PAD+PRIG+GANG_KAOSARN.png" width="318" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Hot tiger prawns and bamboo with red curry paste had the lick of Thai basil and was sprinkled with Thai aubergines and green peppercorns. The menace of red chilli slices thrilled through this stunning dish - our favourite and the one that will draw us back. (Pad prig gang on the menu)</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6qLZUxrDFWA/UGdTvg86S9I/AAAAAAAAA28/72mfgbZS3Xs/s1600/YUM+WOONSEN_KAOSARN.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="319" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6qLZUxrDFWA/UGdTvg86S9I/AAAAAAAAA28/72mfgbZS3Xs/s320/YUM+WOONSEN_KAOSARN.png" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yum woonsen - warm glass noodle salad with prawns, minced pork, peanuts, chilli, coriander, red onion and spring onion was light yet satisfying. The balance of sweet sugar with the tang of fish sauce was right on. I could eat bowls and bowls of this. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Though it was the first night, there were no nerves, no cock-ups and by seven o’clock was almost full. Kaosarn will live up to its Brixton reputation and draw the food-loving crowd to St John’s Hill, light up nights out and provide what they’re known for: guaranteed good times. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1707569/restaurant/Battersea/Kaosarn-London"><img alt="Kaosarn on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1707569/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/109981/Kaosarn_Battersea?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Kaosarn Battersea"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/109981/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Kaosarn</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>110 St John’s Hill</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>SW11 1ST</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>020 7223 7888</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">BYO, cash only (cash machine across the road), takeaway</span></span></div>
Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-52101338375776643362012-08-05T15:32:00.003+01:002012-08-05T15:41:01.503+01:00The Gilbert Scott: A thoroughly British affair<br />
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Evangelists occupy the Gilbert Scott restaurant. This is no place for indifference. The security guard chats for twenty minutes about the wrought iron from Coventry with Olympic fervour next to the now-famous staircase in the Spice Girls’ Wannabe video. The front of house enthuses about Marcus Wareing who pops in at least once or twice a week to run the team here with head chef Oliver Wilson. A grail for history-lovers, artists, models and academics who take refuge from the British Library, the newly refurbished St Pancras renaissance hotel (which houses the restaurant) is an ode to the skill and splendour of British architecture and industry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So prescient is the personality of the St Pancras Renaissance that you almost feel short-changed by the simplicity of the bar and dining room. Unfairly so, as the ceiling is cathedral-high, the marble twinkles and is splendidly grand and altogether impressive. It’s shiny and polished and, quite frankly, splendid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s such an exhibition of the best of home manufacturing and design that one can only wonder about the food. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It would follow that Marcus Wareing seems a good fit, after all, he is a Lancashire craftsman who evolves already staunchly British dishes to become iconically British. This is the Wareing whose care has won Michelin stars for the likes of Petrus and brought Prue, Oliver and Matthew to their knees with the wibble of his custard tart in the first ever Great British Menu.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And so a charming evangelist at front of house takes us to the bar, where the evangelist barman serves us up a spiced virgin mary (for my pregnant friend Claire who’s saving her drinks for the main)...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">...and an a-pear-itif cocktail (Pear Grey Goose, Sipsmith gin, cucumber, elderflower), fresh with that taste of English gardens. A most elegant drink with the cool of the cucumber wrapped round an ice cube in a coupe glass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We’re taken through to the impeccably elegant dining room, and dinner begins. Claire’s Portwood Farm asparagus are fat and sweet, accompanied by a burnt butter hollandaise. They are unspectacular but wholly delicious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My bone marrow with snails is a quite perfect dish. Juicy snails, deeply dark in taste and look, sit affably on the jelly of the marrow. Spooned onto toast soaked through with garlic butter, it’s almost creamy in its richness and overall, exquisite in conception.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We take a quick break to sneak down to the kitchen table, a front-row view (for up to ten people) of the cool mechanics of the steam-lined kitchen. The curious can also peer at the wines kept behind the table. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-72AeOWPIO6c/UB6B-Vv8aII/AAAAAAAAA1c/yJ65KxRZ35M/s1600/GILBERT+SCOTT+VEAL+AND+ONIONS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-72AeOWPIO6c/UB6B-Vv8aII/AAAAAAAAA1c/yJ65KxRZ35M/s320/GILBERT+SCOTT+VEAL+AND+ONIONS.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Back up to our table, our mains are ready to serve. My rump of veal is a solid symphony of flavours - wild garlic and sage accompany the pink, surprisingly meaty and juicy veal, lifted by the sweet of plump roasted onions. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JSL8CAWf3IY/UB6CIOjDZ3I/AAAAAAAAA1k/0PcOj46NjjY/s1600/GILBERT+SCOTT+SEA+TROUT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JSL8CAWf3IY/UB6CIOjDZ3I/AAAAAAAAA1k/0PcOj46NjjY/s320/GILBERT+SCOTT+SEA+TROUT.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Claire’s coral-pink scottish sea trout is a succulent and slim fillet under a blanket of crisp skin. It’s a well-executed dish. We expect something cold and salady from our side order of peas, lettuce and lovage but with the latter wilted and thickened with a touch of cream to mellow its pungency, it is a welcome surprise. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ABW8G0szpmU/UB6CZSQUUiI/AAAAAAAAA1s/4QnG8vhGzXQ/s1600/GILBERT+SCOTT+SNOW+EGGS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ABW8G0szpmU/UB6CZSQUUiI/AAAAAAAAA1s/4QnG8vhGzXQ/s320/GILBERT+SCOTT+SNOW+EGGS.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">For pudding we have Mrs Beeton’s snow egg, a variation of the French dessert ile flottante - poached meringue atop a light and cold custard or creme anglaise. It is slightly ‘ile’ heavy (I'd love more custard), but cleverly lined with marmalade in the middle and the smooth almost foam-like richness is cut through with the crunch of caramelised almonds. </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NY61aPK0bh0/UB6CiQSkaeI/AAAAAAAAA14/HaoQR9FEvac/s1600/GILBERT+SCOTT+CORNFLAKE+CHOCOLATE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NY61aPK0bh0/UB6CiQSkaeI/AAAAAAAAA14/HaoQR9FEvac/s320/GILBERT+SCOTT+CORNFLAKE+CHOCOLATE.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Claire’s warm chocolate cornflakes makes up for all those times you were deprived pudding as a child; the dessert is almost unforgivably rich and a nod to the glory of the chocolate crispy cake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There is a sort of humour and pride that laces the Gilbert Scott menu; where else outside of Cumbria will Kendal mint cake be an ingredient? I would certainly love to pop in for a peanut butter ice. Either way, I do believe for those who arrive in straight from the Eurostar, the Gilbert Scott should be the first stop for a happy and glorious view of London town. By the end of the meal we are satiate, evangelistic, and terribly proud that the British are such devilishly good cooks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><b>The Gilbert Scott</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>St Pancras Renaissance Hotel</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Euston Road</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>London</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>NW1 2AR</i></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">020 7278 3888</span></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.thegilbertscott.co.uk/" target="_blank"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Website</span></i></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Helena and Claire were guests of The Gilbert Scott.</span></div>
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1605241/restaurant/Bloomsbury/The-Gilbert-Scott-London"><img alt="The Gilbert Scott on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1605241/minilink.gif" style="border:none;padding:0px;width:130px;height:36px" /></a>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-60286771387865318032012-07-16T19:33:00.006+01:002012-07-16T19:36:37.166+01:00What to drink with Bavette, by Ruth Ford<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><i>Must drink..! </i></b></div>
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<b><i>An irregular column from wine-botherer Ruth Ford </i></b></div>
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...to accompany an ode to the skirt steak (bavette)</div>
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<i>Bavette at Duck Soup in Soho</i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;">'Sometimes when you taste a red wine it can leave a really dry sensation in your mouth, as if you've just sipped some tea in which the tea bag has been sitting for too long. The feeling is round your gums, at the back of your tongue and on the roof of your mouth, and it is sometimes described as chalky, bitter, and astringent. All these sound like bad things that shouldn't be there in your glass of wine, but in fact they come from something called tannin, which is a chemical compound found in wine. In some wines the levels of tannin are higher than in others, and that's when you get the sensations described above. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;">Tannin comes from grape skins, pips, and stalks, and sometimes from oak ageing. It's extracted during the wine-making process, when the grapes are pressed and then when the grape skins are left in the juice for a while to extract colour and flavour. Some grapes have more tannin than others, and also the wine-maker can decide how much tannin they want to extract for the style of wine they want</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"> to make. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;">Tannin provides 'backbone' to a wine - it gives it structure and stops it from being too soft or one-dimensional. It's also a natural preservative which helps a wine to grow old gracefully. It gives a wine complexity and interest of flavour. However, sometimes it can make a wine difficult to drink on its own. And that's where chewy red meat comes in. Chewing meat whilst drinking a tannic red will help to break down the tannins in your mouth so the other flavours in the wine - fruit, spice, etc. - come to the fore and are complemented by the tannin rather than overpowered by it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;">Bavette has a fantastic gamey, intense flavour and texture that will help to sort out even the most challengingly tannic wine. Some classic examples of tannic wines include Barolo, young Bordeaux and Chianti, and Cahors from the South of France. If you've tried a wine before and thought you didn't like it because of the sensations described above, why not try it again with <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/ode-to-skirt-steak-recipes-and-where-to.html" target="_blank">Helena's bavette recipe</a>? You might be pleasantly surprised at how the wine changes when paired with the delicious juicy meat.'</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.co.uk/2011/06/les-deux-salons-with-ruth-fords-must.html#uds-search-results" target="_blank">Read other posts by Ruth</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-51310713006769412432012-05-10T22:39:00.003+01:002012-05-11T14:09:16.428+01:00Nut butter and Butternut Squash soup with Salami Crisps<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Butternut Squash Soup with a secret ingredient...</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It's the month before Christmas. A month filled with half-asleep sleeps from the run of festive parties. I begin to expect the regular full-moon interruptions from the boy T, the knocking</span> into doors because he bends over funny as he unties a shoelace, a cheeky stumble before just making it to the kitchen and downing pints of water in attempt to claw back sobriety. Probably punctuated with a carol. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">One of these nights I’d left a butternut squash soup open on the stove to cool. T comes back in normal fashion (after dad-dancing through Shadow Lounge jaegerbombs with his work team). Irregular drunken steps. He falls into the kitchen. Silence. Then all I hear is the eruptive ‘Oh my God, wow!’ </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">It's the soup. He's just tasted the soup. He goes back for more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">It's a premiere reaction. Had I ever had that response to my soup-making before from anyone, I'd be sweating at the stove making stock more often. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The soup is cooked up again this springtime (albeit drizzly) week because the suggestive marrow repeatedly pops up in my veg box. And it's even better than I remembered - creamy without having an ounce of cream, sweet without added sugar. Any eater expecting your standard squashy soup is invariably surprised at first taste with the deliciously deep flavour of peanut butter Americana. It's a soup that's savoury and sweet, spiked with chilli-hot goodness, fresh with coriander and lime, lifted with the mere whisper of ginger. And with a topping of crisp salami, a steaming bowl of this moreish blend is pure perfection after a hard day's (or hard night's) work. </span></div>
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nut butter and Butternut Squash soup </span></i></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DsB-d_syAKM/T6mV-M-8AwI/AAAAAAAAAzY/40VhVNJy42g/s1600/BUTTERNUT+SQUASH+SOUP+5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DsB-d_syAKM/T6mV-M-8AwI/AAAAAAAAAzY/40VhVNJy42g/s400/BUTTERNUT+SQUASH+SOUP+5.png" width="394" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Pre-soup. The ingredients</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 butternut squash - peeled, seeded and diced into small cubes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Butter</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">1 large onion or 2 small onions finely chopped</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">1 red chilli chopped</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Knob of ginger - thumbsize, grated</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">1 large garlic clove - finely chopped</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">1 litre veg stock/chicken stock</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">3 heaped tablespoons peanut butter</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Juice 1 lime</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Big handful coriander</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">6 Milanese salami slices (optional)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u_S7UjfTw2I/T6mWKb48NvI/AAAAAAAAAzg/Y2VDeNflxII/s1600/BUTTERNUT+SQUASH+SOUP+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="365" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u_S7UjfTw2I/T6mWKb48NvI/AAAAAAAAAzg/Y2VDeNflxII/s400/BUTTERNUT+SQUASH+SOUP+3.png" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Salami crisps</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">In your soup pot (my trusty cast iron number) slowly fry salami slices on both sides until crisp - it will fry in its own fat so you don’t need to add any oil. Set aside.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">In the same pan, add some butter and the onion, and fry on a low heat for five minutes until translucent. Add the ginger, chilli and garlic, and fry for a minute or two. It should be gorgeously fragrant. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Add the squash and fry for at least a good 10-15 minutes on a low heat until they become slightly soft and frayed round the edges. </span>Season with salt and pepper. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Pour in the stock, bring to the boil, then turn down the heat and simmer for 20 minutes partially covered with the lid. Before taking it off the heat, add the peanut butter and mix until dissolved. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Pour into a blender (you might have to blend in batches), and throw in the bunch of coriander too and the lime juice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Blend until smooth. Pour back into the pan to gently heat back up again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Serve with the salami crisps and a cheery sprinkle of chopped coriander.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BlEI8fHAuXI/T6mWXaDCM8I/AAAAAAAAAzo/uI8CmgktLWs/s1600/BUTTERNUT+SQUASH+SOUP+4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BlEI8fHAuXI/T6mWXaDCM8I/AAAAAAAAAzo/uI8CmgktLWs/s400/BUTTERNUT+SQUASH+SOUP+4.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second helpings. Grilled fennel dressed with lemon in the background</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-72859100637656765962012-04-22T11:06:00.000+01:002012-06-17T10:37:21.145+01:00Ode to the Skirt Steak: Recipes and Where to Eat it<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Djj5FgSAUmw/T0o6dpxn0CI/AAAAAAAAAxc/-5sfEV_9uWE/s1600/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713443358377496610" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Djj5FgSAUmw/T0o6dpxn0CI/AAAAAAAAAxc/-5sfEV_9uWE/s400/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B2.jpg" style="cursor: move; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I love steak. So much so that I’ve belonged to a steak club for over five years, once ate steak five times in one week and still brazenly cook it in order to make friends. I remember being unable to afford a full three-courses at <a href="http://thehawksmoor.com/" target="_blank">Hawksmoor</a> when it first opened, but going to steak club and spanking £45 just on a juicy rib eye and absolutely nothing else. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That’s how much I love steak. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ao0pZVEpEjQ/T0o6P1VjUVI/AAAAAAAAAxE/goaKobMEjq4/s1600/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B4.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713443120962818386" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ao0pZVEpEjQ/T0o6P1VjUVI/AAAAAAAAAxE/goaKobMEjq4/s400/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B4.jpg" style="cursor: move; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m a fan of the textured cut - one with a bit of chew and packs a meaty flavour punch. And so I introduce one of my favourite cuts - the skirt steak or bavette. It’s a cheaper cut (at one butchers the fillet is £45/kg, whereas skirt will be about £14.50/kg) but no less inferior. It’s a flat steak with beautiful marbling and takes flavour and marinating well (Anthony Bourdain recommends it grilled over an open fire of dried grape vines or good wood) and benefits from the smokiness of a Josper grill (like Les Deux Salons near Covent Garden). </span></div>
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<i>Bavette with Green Sauce at Duck Soup, Soho</i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">You’ll find it on many a menu in London - I've seen it gracing Galvin's and Vinoteca's. Most recently, I ate one at Dean Street’s <a href="http://ducksoupsoho.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Duck Soup</a> - sliced into ribbons and lifted with green sauce and served with sumac-sprinkled new potatoes and wilting wild garlic. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But this is the easiest thing to cook at home. I find there’s nothing quite like a potter round the butchers and bringing home that precious, vermillion and marbled slab of meat, and unwrapping the paper like a present. <a href="http://www.thegingerpig.co.uk/" target="_blank">The Ginger Pig</a>’s skirt is second to none but we’ve had great ones from our local butcher down on the Northcote Road. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OZc1Lg-meGI/T0o6hlKQg8I/AAAAAAAAAxo/ceWM1LHiX7M/s1600/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713443425858126786" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OZc1Lg-meGI/T0o6hlKQg8I/AAAAAAAAAxo/ceWM1LHiX7M/s400/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B1.jpg" style="cursor: move; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Because it’s a coarse steak, it’s fit for the extremes of flash-frying or slow-cooking. I’ve not tried the slow-cooking before largely due to impatience (why wait 3 hours for something that takes five minutes?) So instead here are a few quick recipes on what to do with this magnificent cut. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><i>A few things to do with a skirt steak</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>How to cook the steak</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Leave the steaks out so that they are room temperature. Lightly oil and season both sides liberally just before you’re going to cook it. Heat a flat-bottomed pan until smoking hot, and sear the steak on both sides for literally two minutes one side, a minute and a half on the other (I put my timer on). Do not be tempted to move the steak around in the pan. Leave to rest for 5 minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>With shallots</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">In the same pan, with the steak juices, heat up some more oil and cook finely chopped shallots with a sprinkling of sugar to caramelise and salt on a lower heat for 5 minutes. When a glorious brown, sprinkle on top of the steak. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>With garlic and parsley butter</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Make a garlic and parsley butter about an hour or two before by mixing butter with finely chopped parsley and half a clove of crushed garlic. Roll into a sausage, wrap with clingfilm and put in the fridge to firm up. When ready to serve your steak, slice disks of butter, take the clingfilm off, place atop the unsliced steak and let it melt in the residual heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Steak sandwich</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><i>Steaks on the Japanese barbecue soon to turn into...steak sandwiches</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></span><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713442680983680482" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O72xUMRlHRg/T0o52OSWdeI/AAAAAAAAAwU/VbVowtFSZ0g/s400/SKIRT%2BSTEAK%2B8.jpg" style="cursor: move; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Make a steak sandwich with a healthy smear of Tracklements horseradish and onions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">(Fantastic and quick for entertaining as we did here on the Japanese barbecue)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Please do let me know if you have any more bavette recipes (more excuses to cook steak). </span></div>
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<br /></div>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-52941926799053223072012-03-28T21:33:00.006+01:002012-04-01T12:02:30.769+01:00Green Mango Salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nh8gOackjBI/T3N3IrhWLFI/AAAAAAAAAx4/jmy3mOTralQ/s1600/GREEN%2BMANGO%2BSALAD%2B1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nh8gOackjBI/T3N3IrhWLFI/AAAAAAAAAx4/jmy3mOTralQ/s400/GREEN%2BMANGO%2BSALAD%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5725050542323280978" /></a> I love the youth of a green mango salad. It’s a salad fresh and shouty, foolish and sweet as a wet-eared adolescent who’s just emerged from the flush of spotty teenagehood. It’s the taste of freedom the first time you’re away from home, unbridled, yet still innocent in its unripe firmness. <br /><br />Am I getting carried away here? Perhaps it’s because I’m faced with the twinge of a dicky hip, yearning for my salad days. <br /><br />But this is a seriously good salad. That taste of crunchy mango evokes joy. Laced with the sour of limes, salt of fish sauce and sweetened with palm sugar, the flavours meld in delicious concord. Throw in the spike of a birds-eye chilli, and you’re asking for an exquisite kind of trouble as Leo diCaprio did in search of <span style="font-style:italic;">The Beach</span>. <br /><br />Strictly speaking, this is a Thai side salad. But this is my version (that is - not the beacon of authenticity). I know I should julienne rather than grate the mango, introduce the salt tang of shrimp paste/dried shrimp etc. etc. But this is a fifteen minute throw-together that is so moreish, ladlefuls will be eaten before you’ve even left the kitchen. <br /><br />Top tip? Make more so that you can eat more. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HBccoIJ08e4/T3N3QGL-vdI/AAAAAAAAAyE/MAfOJfVGgkw/s1600/GREEN%2BMANGO%2BSALAD%2B2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HBccoIJ08e4/T3N3QGL-vdI/AAAAAAAAAyE/MAfOJfVGgkw/s400/GREEN%2BMANGO%2BSALAD%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5725050669740506578" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Green Mango Salad Recipe</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(serves 4 a a side salad, 2 as a main meal if you’re adding prawns/chicken)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">2 x unripe mangoes (with yellow hard-ish flesh rather than orange) - peeled then grated<br />2 large handfuls of coriander - finely chopped<br />3 or 4 spring onions - finely chopped<br />1/2 - 1 red birds-eye chilli - seeds and all (to taste)<br /><br />Dressing - mix together first<br />3 tablespoons fish sauce<br />Juice of 1-1.5 limes <br />1 tablespoon palm sugar (use brown sugar if you don’t have palm sugar)</span><br /><br />Very simply - mix everything except the dressing ingredients together and watch the vibrant colours clash. <br /><br />Add the dressing and mix well. <br /><br />Add grilled prawns or chicken if you fancy - it really is the best garnish.Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-62317812573495307632012-02-12T10:44:00.007+00:002012-02-12T11:28:38.442+00:00New Leeks and Old Leeks: Two Recipes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TVhcS6e3uY8/TzeYhWtbyXI/AAAAAAAAAvs/rb-F-e4o47Q/s1600/LEEKS%2BWITH%2BBUTTER%2BAND%2BLEMON.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TVhcS6e3uY8/TzeYhWtbyXI/AAAAAAAAAvs/rb-F-e4o47Q/s400/LEEKS%2BWITH%2BBUTTER%2BAND%2BLEMON.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708198751514642802" /></a><center><span style="font-style:italic;">Leeks with lemon and butter - half with a coating of cream cheese. <br />Recipe below</span></center><br />I’m running out of things to do with the leek. This is usually a problem confined to the carrot (a guaranteed muddy staple from <a href="www.riverford.co.uk">Riverford</a>), but this year the allium just keeps popping up, like an annoying but affectionate child, in my veg box. <br /><br />So to use up the old leeks (almost two week old bendy things), the order of the day is a big vat of Nigel Slater’s leek and parmesan soup - once made, stored in the freezer and to be brought out on grey days like these. Sometimes I warm it up gently and drop in small cubes of double gloucester cheese that will melt in the residual heat so glorious yellowy-orange goo will grace each spoonful.<br /><br />And yesterday, a new batch of leeks arrived - alert, erect and standing to attention. Little needs to be done with them - a quick fry will keep their sweetness and a slight crunch. A gorgeous lunch for one. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">New leeks: with Butter and Lemon</span></span><br /><br />So, after a cursory wash, and a rough chop of two leeks into thick rings, melt a slice of butter until foaming in a hot frying pan, and throw the leeks in. Coat the rings in butter, and leave to fry on high heat - only stirring occasionally - you want the leeks to catch and brown at the edges. When they’re just cooked (but still crunchy), squeeze lemon, season with salt and eat immediately. For a treat, spoon in cream cheese - it’s totally unnecessary but so delicious. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrA7YszlVTg/TzeYo4FzIYI/AAAAAAAAAv4/m3X_rN7uPPY/s1600/LEEK_PARMESAN%2BSOUP.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrA7YszlVTg/TzeYo4FzIYI/AAAAAAAAAv4/m3X_rN7uPPY/s400/LEEK_PARMESAN%2BSOUP.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708198880734290306" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Old leeks: Nigel Slater’s velvety soup with Parmesan</span></span><br /><br />Melt a slice of butter, and gently soften 3 leeks chopped into rings in a covered cast iron pan for 20 minutes. Add a peeled potato chopped into chunks, and cook for another five minutes. Add leftover Parmesan cheese rinds, and pour in 1.5 litres of veg stock. Season, then leave to bubble gently for under an hour, leave partially covered. <br /><br />Take out the cheese rinds, (get as much Parmesan as you can from them), and blend until smooth. Add whatever grated cheese you would like in it, reheat and serve with crusty bread. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Adapted from Nigel Slater's the Kitchen Diaries</span><br /><br />Previous leek risotto recipe <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.com/2012/02/redhead-risotto-porcini-leek-and.html">here</a>.Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-46427992965193973552012-02-05T15:59:00.008+00:002012-02-05T16:29:36.984+00:00Redhead Risotto: Porcini, Leek and Jerusalem Artichoke<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OmgtaxRb6vI/Ty6pUeBt-kI/AAAAAAAAAvg/0YHKkyap4cU/s1600/LEEK%2BPORCINI%2BRISOTTO.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OmgtaxRb6vI/Ty6pUeBt-kI/AAAAAAAAAvg/0YHKkyap4cU/s400/LEEK%2BPORCINI%2BRISOTTO.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705683947047746114" /></a><br />Seventh floor, Tate Modern. <br /><br />The Redhead and I are perched on seats that are too tall for us. We’re drinking to keep warm - a carafe of something that would have cost us five college dinners ten years ago. It’s lovely. It’s warming, this Trescone. Tourists shuffle behind us, huffing from the traipse up fourteen flights of stairs, only for their wondrous view of St Paul’s Cathedral to be marred by the heads of two women resolutely ignoring their protruding (or should I say intruding) fancy camera lenses. <br /><br />Conversations with the Redhead are rarely linear. When we meet there’s not too much of the <span style="font-style:italic;">how are yous</span>,<span style="font-style:italic;"> what you been up tos</span>. She could be reminiscing about nights lost queueing up to see the Manics, recent weddings (including her own) or explaining why she’s an evolved vegetarian - in fact, an evolved vegan - who now eats oysters (although she panicked when she scoffed them the night before her wedding. A ‘Bridesmaids’ scenario is to be avoided at all costs, I think). I will tell her with affection that I bought her a wedding wine - a super-Tuscan Cepparello (at <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.com/search/label/RUTH%20FORD.">Ruth Ford</a>'s suggestion) that matches her penchant for grilled aubergines. <br /><br />Clearly there will be patchy holes of <span style="font-style:italic;">things we should know about each other that we don’t</span>. Amidst twelve years of friendship, there’s bound to be something we’ve missed out on. But it’s a fright to learn that she’s been a fellow <a href="http://www.riverford.co.uk/">Riverford</a> box subscriber for three years. THREE YEARS. She has hidden this crucial fact as slyly as she hid just how disgustingly clever she was at university. <br /><br />And of course, this sets us off on a zillion directions - what the hell to do with a Jerusalem artichoke, how the Riverford man likes to hide her box in a bush - some sort of herbaceous joke neither of us quite get, how my Riverford scrubbing brush (free with the tenth box) changed my life, how she cheats by peeling muddy carrots. <br /><br />Post-revelation, I promise that I’ll post some good Jerusalem artichoke recipes for her. Even as I type I’m preparing some for a happy marriage with a melting beef shin stew, so in love with the root am I. <br /><br />So, this recipe, adapted from a Riverford one, is for the Redhead. A soothing risotto with a topping of slightly crunchy and tart Jerusalem artichokes - bowlfuls of comfort on a cold snowy day. <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Redhead risotto</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Handful dried porcini <br />Boiling water just enough to cover<br />2 tablespoons butter<br />1 leek finely sliced<br />1 small onion finely chopped<br />150g risotto rice<br />Big splash of dry vermouth or white wine<br />500ml hot stock - veg or chicken<br />Lots of grated parmesan<br /><br />Olive oil<br />2 or 3 well scrubbed jerusalem artichokes. Thickly sliced.<br />2 lemon quarters<br />Salt</span><br /><br />Soak the dried porcini in a small bowl with just enough boiling water to cover. Not too much.<br /><br />Melt the butter over a medium-high heat in a large pan, add leeks and onions, and soften for a good 5 minutes or until they’re smelling lovely. Stir occasionally so they don’t catch. <br /><br />Add the rice, give a stir or two for a minute to let the flavours get to know each other. Add the wine or vermouth, and let bubble until it’s all gone. <br /><br />Add a slosh of the stock, let bubble away and stir every now and then. Keep adding a slosh of stock every time it has bubbled away until all the stock’s used up. This should take about half an hour. The rice should be al dente. <br /><br />Meanwhile, parboil the jerusalem artichokes for about 8 minutes. Drain, and chop into 2cm cubes. Heat a frying pan with olive oil on a medium-high heat, and add the cubes. Stir to coat in the oil, then fry the cubes so that they brown - and only stir occasionally so that the sides have time to brown. This should take about 10 minutes for the artichokes to get a really meaty nutty flavour. Add a sprinkling of salt, and a squeeze of lemon before you take them off the heat. <br /><br />When the rice is cooked, add the porcini in its liquid, stir and cook for a few minutes. Add the parmesan, stir and serve, with the crunchy cubes of jerusalem artichoke on top.Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-30821080483888214842012-01-08T18:39:00.011+00:002012-01-10T22:54:27.050+00:00New Year's Hix<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wyLkfbrIcb8/TwnnWhlFP3I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/m7BqgZrQsxw/s1600/HIX%2BMARKS%2BBAR.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wyLkfbrIcb8/TwnnWhlFP3I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/m7BqgZrQsxw/s400/HIX%2BMARKS%2BBAR.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695337577943744370" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />Lose yourself with a Nick Strangeway cocktail in Mark's Bar downstairs at Hix<br /></CENTER></span><br />I don’t make New Year's resolutions. I just don’t. Whether it’s down to laziness or divertive sensibilities, I’ve never been wont to shackle myself to a half-arsed promise I’ve made to myself. <br /><br />Except this year, I do. I’m at dinner in the Draft House. It’s New Year’s Day, all ten of us weary with effort. In hungover despair one happy chap asks us all to declare what resolutions we have made. Slight panic. And then I remember that I’d been to the V&A not long ago, peered at Annie Lennox’s trousers and Grace Jones’ marvellous sculptured body in the Postmodernism exhibition. Perhaps I can make something up about that. <br /><br />So I do - something about being more cultural. But I'm actually hiding a more guilty secret, and couldn’t quite bring myself to announce this to everyone else. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I’ve given up red meat for January. </span><br /><br />I'm not sure when or where I came to this decision, or what influence I was under at the time. This is all a bit shock-horror for me. I’m already struggling to turn my head from the Draft House burger. I opt for macaroni cheese instead to comfort me through the pain. <br /><br />Cue dinner last Friday night. Where better to really test how good I am than a place admired for chops and steakage. <br /><br />Woe. I am at Hix. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lj_EBtPQR2U/TwnnR-ZneTI/AAAAAAAAAvE/YiTekD1Lpn4/s1600/HIX%2BPORK%2BCRACKLING%2B2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lj_EBtPQR2U/TwnnR-ZneTI/AAAAAAAAAvE/YiTekD1Lpn4/s400/HIX%2BPORK%2BCRACKLING%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695337499780938034" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />Best part of the pig? Can't resist a spot of crackling with Bramley apple.<br /></CENTER></span><br />I’m deep in the Soho joint from ex-Mr Caprice Holdings that opened in 2009. Surrounded by models, fat cats and joyous art (Sarah Lucas’ Fray Bentos pie mobiles a humorous jib at my predicament), I really think I’m going to buckle and just go meat. <br /><br />Gluttons for punishment, we ask to see the steak board to ramp up the temptation. We consider the virtue of the rib chop, the Barnsley chop, the rose veal, the Porterhouse. Oh the Porterhouse - so angry-looking and huge in all its rumpy, sirloiny, fillety glory. <br /><br />‘But no!’ I say to myself while crunching through shards of salt-flecked pork crackling dipped in Bramley apple sauce. ‘Tear yourself away from the dastardly red of carnal lust’. Well, actually the boyfriend reminds me of my said resolution and suggests perhaps that I might like the Dover Sole instead. Why, of course I do. Yes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VRtthOhDruQ/TwnnM8VE1SI/AAAAAAAAAu4/gNetB0iQLQ4/s1600/HIX%2BHEAVEN%2BAND%2BEARTH.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VRtthOhDruQ/TwnnM8VE1SI/AAAAAAAAAu4/gNetB0iQLQ4/s400/HIX%2BHEAVEN%2BAND%2BEARTH.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695337413325673762" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />Heaven and Earth. No purgatory, thank you.<br /></CENTER></span><br />We share with the much lauded Heaven and Earth starter. A meatball-sized sphere of black pud kept in shape with the merest hint of caul fat, atop a cloud of buttery apple and potato mash. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qnOYIU3ro4E/TwnnHqOTa4I/AAAAAAAAAus/Kox0UzMXrhc/s1600/HIX%2BDIGGIN%2BIN%2BHEAVEN%2BAND%2BEARTH.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qnOYIU3ro4E/TwnnHqOTa4I/AAAAAAAAAus/Kox0UzMXrhc/s400/HIX%2BDIGGIN%2BIN%2BHEAVEN%2BAND%2BEARTH.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695337322566085506" /><span style="font-style:italic;"></a><CENTER><br />Digging in.<br /></CENTER></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A6T9sGd7G7k/Twnm-fpCWdI/AAAAAAAAAug/d4ddnUdfyRc/s1600/HIX%2BDOVER%2BSOLE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A6T9sGd7G7k/Twnm-fpCWdI/AAAAAAAAAug/d4ddnUdfyRc/s400/HIX%2BDOVER%2BSOLE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695337165106600402" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />Broadstairs Dover Sole.<br /></CENTER></span><br />Then the beast of a Dover Sole on the bone arrives, all chargrilled and meaty - bigger than most of the chops on that board. Its coat of criss-crossed chargrill gives the usually delicate flesh a punchy flavour and the slather of creamy bearnaise and cut of lemon juice elevates this simple dish. It's fresh and unfussy, and a fresh, unfussy herby lettuce-heart salad accompanies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5aPjpCvBs4/TwnmxhjztbI/AAAAAAAAAuU/n9Cu4IV2t_s/s1600/HIX%2BGAMEKEEPERS%2BPIE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5aPjpCvBs4/TwnmxhjztbI/AAAAAAAAAuU/n9Cu4IV2t_s/s400/HIX%2BGAMEKEEPERS%2BPIE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695336942283240882" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />Gamekeeper's Pie<br /></CENTER></span><br />My boyfriend tucks into gamekeepers pie - venison packed in pastry goodness, piped with parsnip mash - each piped dot with a caramelised light casing that bursts when bit. The venison gravy is deep and sweet and the meat is dark and falls apart through the care shown with slow-cooking. (I decide, as I chew, that this resolution thing doesn’t count if the meat is not on my plate.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7XHdb1gh6y0/TwnmklKmVVI/AAAAAAAAAt8/VM_83Cxzrxc/s1600/HIX%2BBAKEWELL%2BPUDDING.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7XHdb1gh6y0/TwnmklKmVVI/AAAAAAAAAt8/VM_83Cxzrxc/s400/HIX%2BBAKEWELL%2BPUDDING.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695336719912949074" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />Bakewell pudding<br /></CENTER></span><br />Dessert is joyous. Mouthfuls of spotted dick with custard, and flakey, crisp Bakewell pudding with almond ice-cream - a naughty cube of almond brittle hiding in the scoop, which in my tipsy state is as exciting as a kinder-egg to a five-year-old on a long car-trip to Wales.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_mUkqAeIZ_I/TwnkrxsZ7mI/AAAAAAAAAtw/ZAijAqdqn3k/s1600/HIX%2BSPOTTED%2BDICK.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_mUkqAeIZ_I/TwnkrxsZ7mI/AAAAAAAAAtw/ZAijAqdqn3k/s400/HIX%2BSPOTTED%2BDICK.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695334644511796834" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;"><CENTER><br />A less than spotted dick. Custard-covered pud.<br /></CENTER></span><br />Onto Mark’s Bar downstairs, which, in my mind is one of the main reasons to come to Hix. Nick Strangeway’s cocktails are superb - intelligent and considered, without being try-hard. A couple of these usually make me superb at bar billiards and walk funny. All I know is that I’m won over (or conquered by) a Temperley Sour, which is ostensibly a well-dressed Somerset cider in a coupe glass and an egg-white top, but on second and third sip - so much more. <br /><br />By the end of the night I make another New Year’s resolution. Steak board and cocktail menu, I resolve to conquer you.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1481189/restaurant/Soho/Hix-London"><img alt="Hix on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1481189/minilink.gif" style="border:none;width:130px;height:36px" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://www.hixsoho.co.uk/">Hix</a></span><br />66-70 Brewer Street <br />London<br />W1F 9TR<br />020 7292 3518</span>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-33000103940793866752011-08-15T15:36:00.008+01:002011-08-15T16:51:48.155+01:00Phoenix Palace does good Dim Sum<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bdbn38m15hk/Tg2lE2ZeRQI/AAAAAAAAApI/EgrbCOursik/s1600/BBQ%2BPORK%2BPUFF%2BPASTRY.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bdbn38m15hk/Tg2lE2ZeRQI/AAAAAAAAApI/EgrbCOursik/s400/BBQ%2BPORK%2BPUFF%2BPASTRY.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333012396033282" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">BBQ pork puff pastry</span></CENTER>
<br />As a child who tried resisting all things Chinese - violin lessons, the Last Emperor, belching at dinner - there was one thing that attached me like an umbilical cord to my culture.
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<br />Thank God for <span style="font-style:italic;">dim sum</span>, without which I might have been lost to cheeseburgers.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b7wCj9EmoA4/Tg2lavDszXI/AAAAAAAAApo/8gmmS7mqAm0/s1600/SHANGHAI%2BDUMPLING%2BWITH%2BPORK.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b7wCj9EmoA4/Tg2lavDszXI/AAAAAAAAApo/8gmmS7mqAm0/s400/SHANGHAI%2BDUMPLING%2BWITH%2BPORK.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333388382784882" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Xiao long bao - Shanghai dumplings with pork</span></CENTER>
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Yum cha</span>, that Cantonese tea-house tradition during which <span style="font-style:italic;">dim sum</span> is served, is for the greedy. One is never full, and there is always more. Order as many of those small dishes as you possibly can, and talk loudly. With your mouth full.
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<br />The traditional time for <span style="font-style:italic;">yum cha</span> is midday, Sunday, when all the aunties get together and “wah!” at how tall you are, how pale you are, how fat you are now - it’s a sign of family.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8AiR_NIBu0Y/Tg2lVLd0-EI/AAAAAAAAApg/-6BHXcb08Ac/s1600/OCTOPUS%2BPATTY%2BWITH%2BVINAIGRETTE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8AiR_NIBu0Y/Tg2lVLd0-EI/AAAAAAAAApg/-6BHXcb08Ac/s400/OCTOPUS%2BPATTY%2BWITH%2BVINAIGRETTE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333292929349698" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Octopus patties with vinaigrette</span></CENTER>
<br />Lunch is elevated from a meat-and-two-veg affair to being the excited heart of the Chinese community. The meal is a sequence of rituals. There are rules you should learn. Serve tea to others before yourself. Tap fingers on the table to thank those pouring tea into your cup - a gesture not, as my friend thought, a sign of impatience or atrocious manners. Cock the teapot lid to show that the teapot needs refilling.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rdpYEFLYffQ/Tg2lpFZNO1I/AAAAAAAAAqA/bd2sicE1K4U/s1600/XO%2BTURNIP%2BPATTIES.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rdpYEFLYffQ/Tg2lpFZNO1I/AAAAAAAAAqA/bd2sicE1K4U/s400/XO%2BTURNIP%2BPATTIES.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333634896739154" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Stir fried choi sum and turnip patties with XO sauce</span></CENTER>
<br />If you can successfully navigate the ritual of <span style="font-style:italic;">yum cha</span>, you warrant inclusion. Golden Palace in Harrow, the hub of the Chinese community in the suburbs of northwest London, had been the scene of many dramas before it closed down. It was where boyfriends were first taken to meet the family, where celebrations and commiserations were held. My parents judged on whether guests would gutsily try that chicken’s foot. Or at least laugh if they didn’t.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bmgtl7rj9-Y/Tg2lJ09dAEI/AAAAAAAAApQ/FoUmCL6c8zY/s1600/CHICKEN%2BCLAW%2BWITH%2BBLACK%2BBEAN%2B2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bmgtl7rj9-Y/Tg2lJ09dAEI/AAAAAAAAApQ/FoUmCL6c8zY/s400/CHICKEN%2BCLAW%2BWITH%2BBLACK%2BBEAN%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333097909420098" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Chickens' feet with black bean sauce - a childhood favourite</span></CENTER>
<br />There is no more Golden Palace, sadly. But, keeping things palatial, our alternative is Baker Street’s Phoenix Palace, which is consistently delicious and does all the traditional dishes, like <span style="font-style:italic;">char siu ba</span>o and <span style="font-style:italic;">siu mai</span>, but (refreshingly) innovates too. The sort of restaurant you might see in Hong Kong, the huge familial place has a soundtrack of chopsticks clacking in hungry fervour under the chat and you may very well find yourself near Chinese grannies seated by their begrudging but respectful iPod-wielding grandsons for their big Sunday lunch.
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<br />Look out for me if you’re ever there, and say hello. I shall be proffering cartilaginous chicken’s feet with my chopsticks to see if you're worthy of company.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-67x-k83Bb2E/Tg2lkY4wL9I/AAAAAAAAAp4/eBcLNGedITk/s1600/VIETNAMESE%2BSR%2BAND%2BPRAWN%2BCROQUETTE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-67x-k83Bb2E/Tg2lkY4wL9I/AAAAAAAAAp4/eBcLNGedITk/s400/VIETNAMESE%2BSR%2BAND%2BPRAWN%2BCROQUETTE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333554229981138" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Vietnamese spring rolls</span></CENTER>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lW2MS1K9KmY/Tg2lfksadUI/AAAAAAAAApw/rAL9YGHkOo8/s1600/SUCKLING%2BPIG%2BWITH%2BJELLY%2BFISH.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lW2MS1K9KmY/Tg2lfksadUI/AAAAAAAAApw/rAL9YGHkOo8/s400/SUCKLING%2BPIG%2BWITH%2BJELLY%2BFISH.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333471500105026" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Suckling pig with jelly fish</span></CENTER>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0S2rLotD8PA/Tg2lPgphjQI/AAAAAAAAApY/x_GB8HN7kxc/s1600/GRILLED%2BCHICKEN%2BGYOZA.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0S2rLotD8PA/Tg2lPgphjQI/AAAAAAAAApY/x_GB8HN7kxc/s400/GRILLED%2BCHICKEN%2BGYOZA.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333195536338178" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Grilled chicken gyoza</span></CENTER>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3iN3T2lYVb0/Tg2ltcnatOI/AAAAAAAAAqI/_eLNVgdd0uQ/s1600/MIXED%2BSEAFOOD%2BCRISPY%2BNOODLES.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3iN3T2lYVb0/Tg2ltcnatOI/AAAAAAAAAqI/_eLNVgdd0uQ/s400/MIXED%2BSEAFOOD%2BCRISPY%2BNOODLES.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624333709849834722" /></a><CENTER><span style="font-style:italic;">Mixed seafood crispy noodles</span></CENTER>
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<br /><a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/568265/restaurant/St-Johns-Wood-Lisson-Grove/Phoenix-Palace-London"><img alt="Phoenix Palace on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/568265/minilink.gif" style="border:none;width:130px;height:36px" /></a>
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<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://www.phoenixpalace.co.uk/">Phoenix Palace</a>
<br />5 Glentworth Street, London NW1 5PG
<br />Tel: 020 7486 3515</span>
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<br />Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-54666188384765281392011-07-18T11:26:00.014+01:002011-07-25T12:46:25.331+01:00Recipe: Squid, Chorizo and Broad Beans<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nM364AiZtA8/TiQKg8uui2I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/X2zJzUr2oMI/s1600/SQUID%2BCHORIZO%2B1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nM364AiZtA8/TiQKg8uui2I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/X2zJzUr2oMI/s400/SQUID%2BCHORIZO%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630636995294169954" /></a> It all started with Rupert Everett. He was in white T - the sort that only those who want to show off what’s underneath it wear. We were at the counter of J Sheekey Oyster Bar, Dee and I, feeling as though we’d bunked school to eat fish pie and drink champagne.<br /><br />Rupert walked through the door. <br /><br />Our octopus with chorizo and broad beans arrived. <br /><br />Slight panic. What to devour? Hollywood-star-in-tight-T-shirt-and-designer-stubble or good-looking-seafood-dish-that-dies-when-cold? <br /><br />I think you know the answer to that question, friends. If Rupert had decided to give us a star turn of <span style="font-style:italic;">Say a little prayer</span> I might have reconsidered but as he didn't I chose to spend the next day or so obsessing over the dish. The chorizo and broad bean dish, that is. <br /><br />Anyway, here’s my attempt at it. I like J Sheekey's meaty-mollusc combination, especially their baked razor clams. Unfortunately I could find no octopus at the fishmongers, only frozen baby squid from Waitrose. But for a light Sunday-night supper, this is still a bit of a luxury. Great as a starter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5y0S1ACfqKc/TiQKpY5GbLI/AAAAAAAAAqY/oyoQp6zFYb0/s1600/SQUID%2BCHORIZO%2B2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5y0S1ACfqKc/TiQKpY5GbLI/AAAAAAAAAqY/oyoQp6zFYb0/s400/SQUID%2BCHORIZO%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630637140292824242" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Recipe: Serves 2</span></span><br /><br />I won’t go into how to prepare squid, but click <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/techniques/cleaning_squid">here</a> for a good ol’ Mitch Tonks BBC demonstration.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">8 baby squid, cleaned and complete with tenticles<br />Under 100g chorizo slices<br />About 20 broad bean pods (thanks <a href="http://www.riverford.co.uk/">Riverford</a>)<br />1 big garlic clove, sliced (optional)<br />Salt<br />Butter<br />Olive oil<br />Squeeze of lemon</span> <br /><br />Pod the broad beans and throw into a pan of boiling water for 4 minutes. <br />Drain, refresh with cold water then peel the skin of each bean. Keep to one side.<br /><br />Slice the body of the squid in half, lengthways. Drizzle oil over the squid halves and tenticles. Heat a griddle pan, and when searing hot, season squid with salt, and lay squid on pan a minute each side until they curl. Be quick, and fry in batches, you don’t want to overcook them - in fact, better to undercook. Set to one side. <br /><br />In another frying pan, heat some olive oil over medium-high heat, and throw in garlic (if using), then a minute later, the chorizo slices. When they start yielding that gorgeous pimentón-coloured oil, throw in the broad beans just to heat through, followed by the squid. Heat for a minute or two to ensure the squid is just cooked, and the orange-red oil coats the beans and squid and add a little butter to enrich the sauce. <br /><br />Take off the heat, season and serve with a spritz of lemon. Lovely on lightly-toasted bread with a drizzle of olive oil.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">J Sheekey Oyster Bar<br /><a href="http://www.j-sheekey.co.uk/oyster-bar/">Website</a><br />28-34 St Martin's Court<br />WC2N 4AL<br />020 7240 2565</span>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-44503422966480236452011-06-24T10:56:00.010+01:002011-06-24T11:16:50.189+01:00Les Deux Salons review and Ruth Ford's Must Drink!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bs1JYkMi-6E/TdlLdnPHaQI/AAAAAAAAAoc/PzVg82o63SQ/s1600/BREAD.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bs1JYkMi-6E/TdlLdnPHaQI/AAAAAAAAAoc/PzVg82o63SQ/s400/BREAD.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609597782987335938" /></a><br />It was an unfortunate decision - to celebrate his birthday on a Tuesday night. We should have just gone for late night Vietnamese. <br /><br />I like to think it was everyone else’s fault, Giles', Adrian's, Guy's, though I only have myself to blame. You see, the reviews for Les Deux Salons in Covent Garden were stirling. <br /><br />Stunning. <br /><br />If I’d gone and opened a restaurant, hard-grafted and walloped £2million on this interior as Will Smith and Anthony Demetre have done, I wouldn’t mind being billed by FT’s Nick Lander as a “serious contender to the Ivy” either. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1TT83-1D_U/TdlLVjbnFYI/AAAAAAAAAoM/UKepY19TGYw/s1600/COD_SNAIL%2BBACON%2BPIE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1TT83-1D_U/TdlLVjbnFYI/AAAAAAAAAoM/UKepY19TGYw/s400/COD_SNAIL%2BBACON%2BPIE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609597644527048066" /></a><center> <span style="font-style:italic;">Herefordshire snail & bacon pie and salt cod brandade, sauté of young squid, parsley cromesqui </span></center><br />And the grand entrance, on William VI street, suggested this would be the place to exercise the <a href="http://voracious-eater.blogspot.com/2010/04/ivy-part-ii-art-of-dining.html">art of dining </a>. <span style="font-style:italic;">This is the restaurant of occasion!</span> the doorway states, in all high pillared splendour. Pushing through the heavy door, our entrance felt akin to shimmying down the grand staircase of a country manor. Les Deux Salons is so different from its counterparts, Arbutus and Wild Honey, which have that Soho inclusive snugness I so love. <br /><br />We were shown to our table, which was in the thick of things. And it was from this point the occasion fell apart. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vKoL7bZu0wc/TdlLRAMUU2I/AAAAAAAAAoE/n8Ed4-GGjxA/s1600/RABBIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vKoL7bZu0wc/TdlLRAMUU2I/AAAAAAAAAoE/n8Ed4-GGjxA/s400/RABBIT.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609597566348186466" /></a><center> <span style="font-style:italic;"> Roast saddle of rabbit, spring chard, carrot purée </span></center><br />Efficiency is not a sin. But dishes flew from the kitchen with such efficiency that I felt like the naughty kid for chatting and I forgot to chew (we were interrupted about five times). Wines were not recommended with certainty, which was slightly unsettling. We sat almost knee to knee with the tables either side of us - awkward if you’re with your boyfriend.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_PVnT4sjHM0/TdlLNM3mJDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/5HBSmuqhhs0/s1600/BAVETTE_GRATIN%2BDAUPHINOISE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_PVnT4sjHM0/TdlLNM3mJDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/5HBSmuqhhs0/s400/BAVETTE_GRATIN%2BDAUPHINOISE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609597501031457842" /></a><center> <span style="font-style:italic;"> Bavette steak, caramelised shallot sauce </span></center><br />The food, however, was joyous. There was a masterpiece of a snail and bacon pie, a saddle of rabbit, a sweet, slightly-marshmallowy floating island with pink praline for dessert. But the one thing that I would do star-jumps for is their bavette steak. Their thick, meaty, manly flank - infused with the pungent smoke from a Josper charcoal grill. It was coarse and wonderful, a glorious punchy red-pink inside. And I’d warrant that everything that erupted from that grill would taste as brilliant as this steak.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eITZ10u_95g/TdlLGT90MhI/AAAAAAAAAn0/Agy6sXnbo2k/s1600/FLOATING%2BISLAND.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eITZ10u_95g/TdlLGT90MhI/AAAAAAAAAn0/Agy6sXnbo2k/s400/FLOATING%2BISLAND.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609597382677508626" /></a><center> <span style="font-style:italic;"> Floating island with pink praline & custard </span></center><br />A place to linger? Hardly. Too high-adrenaline for me. If this was a bistro - then I'd be happy here - a carafe of red and a manly steak would do just fine. But a bistro it ain't. Song Que can expect a call next year.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://www.lesdeuxsalons.co.uk/">Les Deux Salons</a><br />40-42 William IV Street<br />London WC2N 4DE<br />020 7420 2050</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1552320/restaurant/Covent-Garden/Les-Deux-Salons-London"><img alt="Les Deux Salons on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1552320/minilink.gif" style="border:none;width:130px;height:36px" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ruth Ford’s Must Drink! </span></span><br /><br />Helena made the very excellent decision to drink carafes of wine with her dinner. I am a huge fan of carafes: being able to order a wine in 250ml instead of a 750ml bottle gives you the freedom to have different wines with every course, and the confidence to try wines you wouldn’t normally, because if it turns out you don’t like it, it’s not as expensive as a bottle would have been, and you can simply choose another one.<br /> <br />More and more restaurants are offering wines by the carafe and this is to be APPLAUDED. I look forward to the day that every restaurant offers every wine on its list by the carafe and glass…<br /> <br />However I was slightly – just slightly – disappointed by the wines that had been recommended to Helena. A Chardonnay and a Cabernet Merlot, whilst both perfectly acceptable as matches for the dishes chosen, are just a bit safe, especially given the incredible choice of wines that Les Deux Salons offers by the carafe (massive thumbs up).<br /> <br />So this is a post about the wines that Helena could have had…<br /> <br />With the warm salt cod brandade and the snail and bacon pie, something thirst slaking is needed, to counter all the salt, but also with enough richness to cope with the textures and weight of the two dishes.<br /> <br />The Grüner Veltliner, Gmörk, Anton Bauer, Wagram (Austria) would have done the trick, with enough body and spice notes to match the flavours of both dishes, but also plenty of crisp freshness to cut through the saltiness. Grüner Veltliner is Austria’s signature white grape and if you haven’t tried it, do. It’s a great alternative to ‘usual’ light white wines like Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay, and very good at matching with all kinds of foods.<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1uvlAaHoaPk/TdlLZaUmYKI/AAAAAAAAAoU/HStm8bTdX5E/s1600/COD.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1uvlAaHoaPk/TdlLZaUmYKI/AAAAAAAAAoU/HStm8bTdX5E/s400/COD.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609597710801199266" /></a><center> <span style="font-style:italic;">Salt cod brandade</span></center><br />The bavette and saddle of rabbit are perhaps a bit trickier to find one wine for. The steak was meaty and smoky while the rabbit was light, so we need a wine that will cosy up to the steak without making the rabbit feel intimidated.<br /> <br />The Savigny-lès-Beaunes, ‘Les Bas Liards’, Rossignol-Changarnier, Burgundy (France), made from Pinot noir grapes in one of the more affordable villages of Burgundy, would go down a treat. Plenty of flavour for the steak, and yet light and silky enough for the rabbit.<br /> <br />From the cheaper end of the list, the Rosso di Montepulciano, Cantina Crociani, Tuscany (Italy) would also be good. The little brother of the more famous (and expensive) Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, it’s made from the Sangiovese grape and would be lively enough for the rabbit, whilst having enough fruit and savoury flavours not to be overpowered by the steak.Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-12482213958744270432011-06-21T12:35:00.012+01:002011-06-22T09:56:35.552+01:00The Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dr6sh5IceUY/TgGqsqFZxNI/AAAAAAAAApA/WAgyKLqik3I/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-22%2Bat%2B09.40.49.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dr6sh5IceUY/TgGqsqFZxNI/AAAAAAAAApA/WAgyKLqik3I/s400/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-22%2Bat%2B09.40.49.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620961494123005138" /></a><br />There’s no denying the childhood fantasy with bars like The Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town. Stumble across unlikely room, find hiding place, open wardrobe, discover other world. <br /><br />Familiar? Yes, but swap wardrobe with SMEG fridge, and unlikely room with the Breakfast Club Cafe and there you have Narnia cocktail-shaken with retro design.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SXqe-zAS0l0/TgGYhC2dZSI/AAAAAAAAAo4/PpHWFtD6HLU/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-21%2Bat%2B19.37.07.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SXqe-zAS0l0/TgGYhC2dZSI/AAAAAAAAAo4/PpHWFtD6HLU/s400/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-21%2Bat%2B19.37.07.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620941503403484450" /></a>The speakeasy in London is spreading like glandular fever. There are the classics - Milk and Honey in Soho, and stunning additions the Nightjar, ECC and Lounge Bohemia who take The Cocktail to another level. But these are all hidden behind unmarked doors, often with bouncers brimming with menace and a cocky smile as you walk in. <br /><br />But there’s no unmarked door here. Just a SMEG fridge you think stocks ham and cheese but actually stocks an underground bar, DJ and about 50 people. Walk through and like Doctor Who's tardis, or Narnia, you discover the world is bigger on the inside.<br /><br />What also comes with this fantasy is that element of smugness, the whole - being in the know - that makes you a little annoying but helps your G&T taste a whole lot better. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_b_qVUsqVQ/TgCD74PLY3I/AAAAAAAAAow/j2-fiEW7BDs/s1600/MAYOR%2BOF%2BSCAREDY%2BCAT%2B2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_b_qVUsqVQ/TgCD74PLY3I/AAAAAAAAAow/j2-fiEW7BDs/s400/MAYOR%2BOF%2BSCAREDY%2BCAT%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620637399689945970" /></a><br />I’m surprised bars such as this one aren’t more prolific - in New York, Please Don’t Tell has been around for years, a hot dog joint with a telephone box that’s the doorway to the drinking establishment.<br /><br />And so I salute the Mayor of Scaredy Cat for bringing grown-up fantasy to London. <br /><br />Here are the main reasons I love this place: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V36xR6_cLKU/TgCD2ULh_hI/AAAAAAAAAoo/A1WCKrf1oNo/s1600/MAYOR%2BOF%2BSCAREDY%2BCAT%2B1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V36xR6_cLKU/TgCD2ULh_hI/AAAAAAAAAoo/A1WCKrf1oNo/s400/MAYOR%2BOF%2BSCAREDY%2BCAT%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620637304111627794" /></a><br />1. It’s not full of trendy kids who speak a different language to me.<br />2. They spun Neneh Cherry’s Buffalo Stance. Who does that any more?<br />3. Tasked with surprising us (three boys, four girls) with drinks, they embraced the challenge and made us seven different cocktails.<br />4. I like SMEG.<br /><br />I don’t want to say too much for fear of ruining the fantasy, but for a place to drink that gives you more than the usual high-prices, bad chat and overcrowding, come here instead for an antidotal wink, a nod and a smugness you’re entitled to have. <br /><br />To make a reservation visit the <a href="http://themayorofscaredycattown.com/">website </a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Thanks to Beth and Vivi for the photos</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town<br />SMEG fridge<br />The Breakfast Club<br />12-16 Artillery Lane<br />E1 7LS</span>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2570139822013395651.post-14217525837601798572011-05-07T17:56:00.012+01:002011-05-08T14:14:07.240+01:00In praise of the doggy bag. Recipe: Leftover porterhouse steak salad<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BWIiBD8Tq0A/TcV712QpdrI/AAAAAAAAAmE/5E02nHeL4d0/s1600/THE%2BDOGGY%2BBOX.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BWIiBD8Tq0A/TcV712QpdrI/AAAAAAAAAmE/5E02nHeL4d0/s400/THE%2BDOGGY%2BBOX.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604021476361074354" /></a><center><span style="font-style:italic;">The doggy bag... (box) from Dean Street Townhouse</span></center> <br />How English of us to be embarrassed by the doggy bag. Sweeping up those bits we’ve chosen not to scoff, taking them home to reheat dodgy-style in a microwave.<br /><br />How tight. How uncouth. <br /><br />But surely it’s the second highest compliment a restaurant can receive: that the food was so fabulous and generous, we’d like to eat it again, thank you very much. The first compliment, of course, would have been to love it the first time round. <br /><br />Well, the asking for the doggy bag needn’t be embarrassing nor confined to the back-street Chinese restaurant. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gHMvWV7_oYc/TcaDcFzQSeI/AAAAAAAAAmc/HaQq37Xremc/s1600/PORTERHOUSE%2BWHITE%2BDEAN%2BSTREET.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gHMvWV7_oYc/TcaDcFzQSeI/AAAAAAAAAmc/HaQq37Xremc/s400/PORTERHOUSE%2BWHITE%2BDEAN%2BSTREET.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604311304925891042" /></a><center><span style="font-style:italic;">The porterhouse steak and béarnaise sauce</span></center><br />I’ve never been shy of asking (it’s my Chinese genes). My last doggy bag was from the impeccable Dean Street Townhouse in Soho. The Scottish porterhouse steak is a beast of a dish, all tender tenderloin fillet one side of the bone, and beefy sirloin on the other. Enriched with custardy yellow béarnaise and accompanied by thin-cut chips. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9MKQGYhiZ0o/TcV6Dy-KxzI/AAAAAAAAAl0/S3sY14GS49E/s1600/DEAN%2BSTREET%2BTOWNHOUSE%2BMENU.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9MKQGYhiZ0o/TcV6Dy-KxzI/AAAAAAAAAl0/S3sY14GS49E/s400/DEAN%2BSTREET%2BTOWNHOUSE%2BMENU.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604019516973172530" /></a>It wasn’t a cheap meal, this. In fact this beast will set you back a good £65, and it rather defeated us on the night. But it turned into a fantastic salad supper the day after (recipe below), and saved us having to pick up anything new.<br /><br />Dean Street Townhouse was gracious enough to accept the compliment. In fact, they were prepared for it and as soon as we asked, packed us off with a fancy box and a bag. After our waiter informed us that many fail to finish the Porterhouse, I’d wager they’d not ask for the doggy bag, which to me seems a waste of prime steak.<br /><br />Our waiter did wonder if we had a dog as we asked if he could pack the bone too. <br /><br />“No dog”, we replied, “just us”. <br /><br />Waitrose Food Illustrated’s William Sitwell started the campaign a couple of years back, and was taken on by Jay Rayner and <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2009/sep/08/hugh-fearnley-whittingstall-doggy-bag">Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall</a>, but I wonder how mainstream doggy-bagging actually is. <br /><br />Is it something that you’d be happy to do? Or is it just a bit too embarrassing? <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6gP0q8VlpBQ/TcV59LIVo9I/AAAAAAAAAls/uU_O_JUDmqE/s1600/TENDERLOIN%2BSIRLOIN.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6gP0q8VlpBQ/TcV59LIVo9I/AAAAAAAAAls/uU_O_JUDmqE/s400/TENDERLOIN%2BSIRLOIN.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604019403199194066" /></a><center><span style="font-style:italic;">The tenderloin fillet (left) and sirloin (right) before...</span></center><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--YlfUIeDsqc/TcV53JxH2BI/AAAAAAAAAlk/-EA3V0sUFLk/s1600/BEEF%2BSALAD.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--YlfUIeDsqc/TcV53JxH2BI/AAAAAAAAAlk/-EA3V0sUFLk/s400/BEEF%2BSALAD.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604019299754170386" /></a><center><span style="font-style:italic;">...and after</span></center><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Recipe: Leftover beef salad</span></span><br /><br />There were heated discussions while waiting for the bill on what to do with the beef, which was to be used for the next day’s dinner. Stir fry? Pasta? <br /><br />Fears that the beef would lose its already fantastic flavour cast those ideas aside. We decided to freshen up the steak with lots of vibrant herbs, and enhance rather than hide the flavour with a simple lime dressing.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Serves 2</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Beef marinade</span><br />1 garlic clove<br />2 tablespoons soy sauce<br />2 teaspoons fish sauce<br />1 heaped teaspoon palm sugar<br />Few drops sesame oil<br /><br />Leftover rare steak from last night’s blowout<br />100g dried vermicelli noodles<br /><br />Handful of herbs - anything like fresh mint leaves, coriander, thai basil or all three is great. I like mine with mint and coriander<br />Scatter of dry roasted peanuts - roughly crushed with a pestle <br />Half a cucumber, sliced<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Dressing</span><br />Juice from two limes<br />Fresh chilli or cheat with dollops of sweet chilli sauce<br /><br />Using a pestle and mortar, crush the garlic, and then add the rest of the ingredients. Pour over the steak and marinate for at least an hour. <br /><br />Cover the dried noodles with boiling water for ten minutes, then rinse under cold water <br /><br />Flash fry the steak - you don’t want to cook that rareness out. If already sliced, then it’s a token heat through to take the edge off the marinade. If not, take out and leave to stand before slicing thinly. <br /><br />Throw the noodles, sliced herbs, peanuts, cucumber, beef. Combine the lime juice and chilli, pour over, toss and serve. <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://www.deanstreettownhouse.com/">Dean Street Townhouse</a> <br />69 - 71 Dean Street <br />London <br />W1D 3SE<br />020 7434 1775<br /><br />Thanks to Tom for the recipe</span>Helena Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07603111920828104022noreply@blogger.com10