Dean Street Townhouse

It was the mention that they do scotch eggs that made me want to go to Dean Street Townhouse. And when I got there, I literally wanted to eat everything on the menu, every starter, every main, every dessert, and even the stuff they have for high tea. There is no pretending that it is to appeal to those of us who went to school in this country, everything is nursery comfort food, and I am not at all ashamed to say that I am already pestering my friends to join me for a return visit.

It was pretty quite on the Sunday evening I went, which gave me time to assess the mad interior. The dining room is very cosy (to the point where I think it would be quite oppressive if you were staying at the hotel and coming down for breakfast, no windows at all!), and strangely decorated with some very random art. Over our table was a quote by Lindsay Lohan. I'm also still making up my mind over whether I liked the toilets. Very cosy again, and I liked that there is a sink in each cubicle, but the mirrors were very self-consciously aged, paired with some comedy looking Cowshed toiletries. Obviously this kind of Soho irony is completely lost on me.

But back to the food. As I said, everything is what you would find on a school dinner menu or Little Chef actually, including fish & chips with 'fat marrow peas'(Dave very hopefully thought it came with bone marrow, hahaha!), 'mince and potatoes', and even a mixed grill. And it was all a lot cheaper than I had anticipated. I had read somewhere that their scotch egg was £7.95, completely ridiculous yes, but most mains came in at around £12-15, not bad for that part of town. You can also order from the high tea menu which had things like scotch eggs and chicken livers on toast, all of which were around £4-5 each.

Dave teased me relentlessly for ordering prawn cocktail for my starter. I don't care how old fashioned it is, I really fancied it! And it was a very good one too, only complaint was that the portion is a big too big:

Dave went for a more adventurous grilled octopus with chickpeas, and managed to take a very arty photo of it. It was a bit meh on taste, however, the chickpeas seeming cooked in a tin of tomatoes:

I had been hankering for roast chicken ever since Canteen decided not to cook any for lunch earlier on in the day, so I was most excited to see it on the menu. It is only for 2, and at £32 for 2 I thought it was quite bargainous, given that you get a chicken supreme and a whole leg each! Definitely way too much food, but this might be the best roast chicken I've ever eaten (granted I don't eat roast chicken that often)!!! The roast tatties were a bit rubbish though, even I make better ones :p

I was thoroughly, thoroughly stuffed after eating literally half a chicken, but I couldn't quite resist the pudding menu (and it is definitely a pudding menu, not a dessert menu). Rice pudding with raspberry jam was so right and so yummy, with an individual bit of skin on top. I also need to go back to try their sherry trifle for two:

Oh, and another thing I liked was that there was a long wine by the carafe list, useful as Dave had overdone it (again) the night before and was feeling a bit fragile. That didn't stop us having a glass of port each to finish though. I have gained a real fondness of a little glass of port recently, I asked for one in a pub the other day and they did laugh at me. Oh well, hurrah for Dean Street Townhouse, exactly the sort of place to enjoy a warming glass of port on a winter's evening.

Quick round up of wonderful places

Quickly before my laptop battery dies, some other lovely places I want to shout to the world about!

First, I probably don't need to tell you about The Eagle, heralded as London's first real gastropub, but I only went there for the first time a few weeks ago, and it does trump even its sisters Great Queen Street and Anchor and Hope. I guess it's because at the two sisters, both of them are deep dark rooms where you feel ever so slightly stressed out from the raucous for a table, whereas The Eagle has gorgeous big windows on two sides, and even on Saturday lunch felt chilled out.

Somehow I managed to restrain myself and ordered only a soup (ok, I did have a pastis de nata afterwards, but you should have seen the menu on offer!). It was probably one of the best soups I've ever eaten in a restaurant, let alone a pub, and so nice to see cheap ingredients turned into something of real glory. Here is their mussel and pollack chowder:

Fil quite uncharacteristically (I thought) went for a pork chop, which came with lentils rather than the advertised black beans, as well as a huge layer of yummy fat along the edge:

Plus, sitting by the window meant I took decent food photos for once :)

Another place I was seriously impressed with recently is Da Mario on Endell Street. When Lindsay told me we were going to an Italian place in Covent Garden for our big girlie night out, I was definitely more than dubious, so what a pleasant surprise to now crave one of the dishes I ate there. It's obviously run by a big Italian family, whose father openly flirts anything female that works through the door, so we us 9 girls were treated to some fabulous Italian hospitality.

Their menu is very very long, which again made me feel dubious, but not one complaint was heard on our table. I started with their stuffed baby octopus on chickpeas: not a combination I would think of, but it definitely worked:

But the thing I was seriously impressed with was their homemade pasta (not sure what the name was, but big fat flat tubes) with a sausage and broccoli sauce. Sounds anonymous enough, but oh my god so so so so so satisfying. The sauce was sparing but very unctuous at the same time, if that makes any sense, the balance of the whole dish was just perfect for me:

Gah, I only ate dinner (a very fat Chinese New Year dinner at that) about an hour ago and I'm salivating again!! Need to go back...

Salad

Salad has entered my life is rather a big and intrusive way recently, which also partly explains my inability to blog for the last month or so. I do think it is mightily strange for a grown man to be so fond of raw vegetables, but I have learnt to love it. Here's one of Fil's magnificent salad creations (and yes, readers, this is a side salad for 2!):


One of the good things about all this, of course, is that I am rediscovering how I love weird and wonderful combinations of salads, as showcased by our trip to Ottolenghi's. I've read Yotam Ottolenghi's recipes in the Guardian for many months now, and generally they are the sort of recipes that sound so good that I will cut it out, put in a folder, and never revisit again. I particularly like that there is a strong Middle Eastern vibe in his food, and everything sounds very zingy.

The Islington branch we went to was rammed on the Saturday night we visited. We got there super early at 6pm and managed to grab one of the last spaces at the bar in an otherwise fully booked dining room, and all night long the maitre d' was laughing at the hopefuls walking in who then promptly walked out again. I can sneer all I like about Islington-ites, but even I have to admit I have very similar taste buds to them.

Potentially my favourite thing was a very simple salad of pumpkin with manouri cheese, a Greek cheese which I've never had before. I was expecting something quite sharp like feta, but its smoothness and slight citrusiness was totally delicious with the pumpkin:

Less successful was their version of tuna tataki, which came with a soggy breadcrumb and a bit too inoffensive wasabi sauce:

Their pigeon (or was it quail?) was a little unmemorable:

But we loved the chicken livers and mushrooms on brioche toast. I like the fact that they can do the funky taste combinations as well as do classic dishes very well:

So it has inspired me to be a little more creative with my salads, but repeat visits will be quite harsh on the wallet. Each little plate (they recommend you order 4 each) costs around £10-12, which I felt was all a bit expensive for something pitched to be casual (the salads are all sat in big bowls in an entrance, for example). I also saw that they do takeaway salad boxes at a slightly laughable £9.95 each. Obviously I'm not rich enough to qualify to be a trendy yummy mummy type yet, phew!

Worst food trends of the noughties

This Guardian article made me chuckle, so I thought I'd share. I must say I totally agree on the molecular gastronomy front.

Crisis Christmas 2009

I had a thoroughly lovely week at Crisis Christmas this year, and overall helped to cook over 1200 meals at the Crisis Quiet homeless shelter. Many people have been very kind about what a commitment it is, but let me tell you, I have so much fun each year that even if it was for a much less noble cause, I would still be there, chopping away. It is a purely selfish endeavour! And it beats sitting at home watching bad Christmas telly hands down.

As ever, our afternoon cooking brigade was led by the wonderful Norman, who turns 70 next year, and it may be one of his last Crisis Christmases. He is not actually a trained chef; both the guests and general volunteers assume that our kitchen is much more professional than it is, but somehow we manage to get on average 200 meals out each day, mainly due to Norman. Our logistical challenges as ever included only having 2 ovens (1 of which normally runs out of gas during service), some incredibly blunt knives, and just about enough room to swing a very small festive cat.

Anyway, here are a few photos to try and convey what an experience it was. This is a typical main course, this time roast beef with lots of veg. I really ought to put less gravy in my food. All the food is donated by catering companies and supermarkets, and it is a daily Ready Steady Cook challenge to try and decide how to feed everyone.

My proudest moment was the baked apples we did for pudding on Boxing Day. We had a lot of Christmas cake left over from the day before, so we stuffed these into the apples, topped with brown sugar (one lonesome bag we found in the store room). These were obviously not meant to be healthy:

Crisis is also when I eat 99% of my annual intake of custard. Our guests and volunteers love the stuff, and we make it almost everyday. Ed started the awful thing of eating huge bowls of just custard, which we all started to follow. Despite all this, we may have gone a little overboard by making 10 litres of the stuff on the last day:

I really did ruin my hands this year, even after taking my own knives and peelers to the kitchen. This may have something to do with the mountains of sprouts we prepped (incidentially the ones donated by Morrisons's were much nicer than those from Harrod's!):

On the last day, we had a frozen block of chicken breasts the size of a large paving slab to try and defrost in time for dinner. It had been out of the freezer since 10am, and by 3pm, it still resembled the arctic. Prying off each breast one by one was probably the thing that really messed up my hands, but oh it was such a satisfying job, perhaps my most favourite.

In proper Christmas fashion, I put on quite a bit of weight even though I was working, probably because Norman kept feeding me little snacks during the shift. I resorted to having a little stash of food in my little corner everyday, even though I kept refusing to take the Wethers' Originals:

And this is the lovely kitchen crew from the last day! Also special mentions for Iain, Sam, Synthia, Charmaine, Ian and Linda who are not here:

The week was rounded off by the traditional karaoke session on the last night. Yes, I was rather surprised to find people other than Asians doing karaoke whilst sober.

I just made my first proper meal since Crisis, and it was all a bit surreal, being able to stop after chopping just one onion and just one carrot. I also feel a bit like one of the Borrowers as the utensil are so small!

Lastly, a big thank you to the green badges and key vols who make it all happen, particularly Lloyd and Sue. I spotted Sue eating this year, somehow I didn't die of shock.

Farewell Eugene

The series of farewell dinners was so long and varied that it's quite a shock to the system now that he's actually gone. It was a bit too cold to cry when I finally said goodbye to him, but the sentiment is still there. I will of course miss him for his insatiable appetite and disturbingly similar food tastes to mine, but he was also instrumental in helping me through all the recent changes in my life. *stops pukingly sentimental posting*

Somehow along the way, he has never been to Latium, despite all my evangelical rantings about the place, so it was an obviously place to have a final final dinner. Unsurprisingly Eugene became a big fan of the place afterwards, and once again I am plotting to maybe have my birthday dinner in their new(ish) private dining area.

The only slight disappointment is that they have changed their amuse bouches! I can't even remember when I started coming to Latium (2004ish?), but they have always welcomed their guests with a plate of arancini, mini pizzas and mini calzone. Now it seems to have been replaced with a series of crostini-type things. Very nice they are (cured salmon, wild mushrooms, and salami), but somehow it does take away from the magic of the place.

Given it was Eugene's first visit, we stuck to the classics. Both of us started with Latium's version of steak tartare (yes, my second tartare of the week, no wonder I am expanding again), which includes parmasan in the tartare itself, and is topped with some impossibly cute poached quail eggs:

Both of us also had the fish ravioli, which I will not bore you about again, and very competently done fish dishes (monkfish with pumpkin sauce for me, similar to the one at the bottom of this post I had a while back, and scallops for Eugene), and somehow we still had enough reserves for pudding. Now, I have never come to Latium for their desserts, and I rarely rarely order any. But as I've said before, I'm having a funny turn recently, and keep ordering desserts.

And very glad I was too! The rum baba with pistachio ice cream and marsala sabayon is something I would actually consider skipping one of the savoury courses at Latium to have again. Shocking, I know. It is huge (and again, I quite like the fact that Latium's presentation is never quite dainty), but I had no trouble shoving it all into my mouth:

Eugene then declared that their tiramisu is one of the best in London, having told me a story of when he spent an entire day sampling tiramisu's all over a few years ago. How is this boy not fat??!!

So yes, birthday dinner at Latium in the works. Who wants an invite?

Boundary

It is no longer a surprise that very very good restaurants are starting to pop up within walking distance from my house in East London. Even BA's High Life magazine has declared Tower Hamlets as the place to be, I am told, so it is all official. What is more of a surprise I guess is that Terence Conran is behind one of these, in what seems to be some kind of renaissance for him in 2009. Critics far and wide have loved Boundary in Shoreditch, a small complex including a hotel and a rooftop restaurant. Much praise has also been lavished at Lutyens on Fleet Street, another 2009 Conran opening, and the good experience we had at Boundary means that a visit to Lutyens is pretty imminent.

Let's start with the not-so-good stuff though. The space Boundary occupies is awkward to the extreme. The main restaurant is in the basement, with diners having to navigate some quite industrial looking stairs to get there. They have done their best to paint the space with celestial inspired murals, a theme which continues into the restaurant itself, but it is simply not a nice welcome.

And it also leads me to my second main complaint, and that is the toilets. You walk past them on the aforementioned stairs to get to the restaurant, and the smell wafting through made the welcome even worse. What's more is the fact that all the loos are unisex, which I don't get given that there is no shortage of space, and there was a very suspect puddle on the floor on both my visits. Yuk and ick. Loos should never be unisex if there is space available.

It is just as well then that the food and service was so good that I can get over the ickiness. The menu reminded me of Le Cafe Anglais: British classics with a hint of Frenchiness, I would be happy to eat almost anything off the menu. Most pleasing is that they don't call dessert 'dessert', they call it 'pudding'. Love love love!

I started with a steak tartare, more because I had been craving one than because of the selection on offer. I liked that it was served with a little side of gherkiny stuff, but still needed a little more kick:


Their salads were interesting, and I should have had one of these in retrospect. Lindsay had the Perigourdine, which translates into a salad with lovely ducky bits, including gizzards and fois gras:

A recovering Fil was definitely not ill anymore if he was ordering artichoke and truffle salads:


But starters were quickly rendered irrelevant when our main course came. They have roast special everyday, and we were so lucky that it is suckling pig on a Monday. 3 of us had it, potentially some of the best pig I've ever eaten (sorry Mum). Impossibly soft, although the crackling wasn't quite that crackly. The potatoes they served with it was also very lovely and nutty, like a wintery Jersey Royal:

And onto the very lovely puddings. I have had a bit of a weird turn lately, eating lots of sweet things, and I had real trouble deciding on puddings, the menu for which included Pear Belle Helene and Mandarin souffle. Again, reminiscent of Le Cafe Anglais, I was just pleased to see some stewed fruit on the menu, and shared some warm cherries with pain d'epices with Lindsay:

We also tried their white chocolate tarte du jour, very good in that they got the sweetness just right, not at all cloying, even I would have happily eaten it despite my dislike of white chocolate. Mark declared that it looked like a 'very Conran' dessert when I showed him the picture at work, haha!:

What I also really liked was they had a few surprises for us too, including some candied orange to go with our teas and coffees, nice to see they put a bit of thought into this 'petit four':

And because it is Christmas, they came round with a basket of clementines and nuts to round off the meal. This. however, turned into a bit of a nasty personal surprise. I tried some of their almonds and hazelnuts, and soon after discovered my lips and throat were very swollen, to the extent I had difficulty breathing and swallowing for the rest of the night. Now, I love nuts, never had any reaction before, and this episode really scared me, not for health implications, but because I may not be able to eat nuts again!! I have eaten nuts again since then (probably dangerous, but I wasn't paying attention), with reactions ranging from none at all to slightly swollen lips again. I knew things were going a bit too well lately, a newly developed nut allergy is dampening my spirits a little. I've just made some brownies with nuts in, they just came out the oven. So someone please come and check on me if it's all quiet on the blog front after this :)