Meal of the month: January

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For many January is a month of restraint following the excesses of the holiday season. A time of austere resolutions. For me it is a time to carry the enjoyment of those excesses into enthusiasm for new plans in the New Year.

December’s exceedingly and excessively enjoyed gammon joint carried tidings of good will and satisfied bellies into early January with a rich porcine ham stock as the basis for my Savoy Cabbage and Serrano Ham risotto. This demonstrates another reason to be upbeat in January as the post-Christmas flogging of over ordered stock by the Supermarkets means top-quality (you might even say Finest quality) produce from cheeses to charcuterie are sold off at a fraction of the price. 

These two January Juvenating factors combined in a moment of pure piggy pleasure, the creamy risotto and melt in the mouth ham tempering the porcine saltiness of the gammon stock. A taste that can’t fail to put a smile on your face.

Away:

A quiet month for eating out, I did none the less discover a local gem, a mere 10-15 minutes from my house, just outside Chelmsford off the A12 in Boreham. The Lion Inn is still a proper pub with proper pub drinks (as well as the usual suspects, two local Essex brews and a couple from the always thirst quenching range by Sharp’s of Cornwall) food and atmosphere in keeping with this. Think fork soft slow roast pork belly with decent crackling, open fields in front of you, a blazing fire and an eclectic mix of comfy tables and chairs that, despite the place labeling itself as ’the epitome of shabby chic’, create that unfussy, welcoming atmosphere a pub really should have.  

Looking Forward:

Eating out will certainly pick up with a trip to Launceston Place planned but undoubtedly the highlight of the month will be my dinner by Heston at Dinner by Heston. In terms of my own kitchen’s cuisine, I look to banish the last of Winter with warming flavours from sunnier climes and to prove that you can get a great Iberian without having to spend £50 million or take a trip to Chelsea.

Star of 2010

In just over a weeks time the latest edition of Michelin’s guide to U.K. restaurants will be produced. With restaurateurs, chefs and general foodies quaking with anticipation I present you with my tip for a highly sought after star; Viajante.

Chef Nuno Mendes has already made a massive contribution to the London dining scene, as a catalyst of underground restaurants at The Loft, and Viajante looks set to continue to push the city’s diners with a somewhat off the beaten track location, creative cooking and flavour combinations.

Our trip in August 2010 was in aid of the better half’s birthday and as such demonstrated one of Viajante’s big assets. With dishes changing daily, rather than a traditional menu (a cast back to Mendes’ ‘underground’ past), Viajante is able to remain ingredient and initiative focused by asking patrons to simply pick the number of courses (and optional beverage pairings) they wish to have. And with a 3 course menu being £28 and additional drinks pairing £18 (according to the restaurant's website though I’m sure it was marginally less back in the good old days of 2010) Viajante has managed to find that rare level of affordable luxury. London restaurants take note; it is possible to provide a unique gastronomic experience at a reasonable price without resorting to witchcraft or wizardry.  

The less than salubrious surroundings of Bethnal Green initially dampened spirits, which were easily raised upon entering the restaurant in the revamped Town Hall complex. A modern and light space, lent a sense of respect and grandeur by the Town Hall’s entrance and lobby. We were lucky to be given a table in the front corner, enabling us to survey the whole restaurant including a close proximity view into the intrigue of the open kitchen.

Much had been written about Mendes’ cuisine (especially given the cache of being able to enjoy a meal at The Loft) and our lunch did not disappoint:

Amuse Bouche:

Viajante Sashimi-tuna, edamame beans, soy, wasabi and sesame seeds.

Broad beans, chargrilled in the pod with St. George cheese

Thai Chicken Explosion-spiced confit chicken meat sandwiched between crispy chicken skin

3 Course Surprise Taster Menu:

Golden and Pink Beetroot salad with nuts, crab, sweet onions and goat’s cheese

Lemon Sole, lemon and ume boshi (Japanese plum) puree with chargrilled and stripped asparagus and a sauce of coconut tapioca, Thai basil and lemongrass

Lemon and Thai Basil sorbet

Strawberries, lemon curd, citrus powder and confit fennel

Standout amongst the amuse bouche were the chargrilled broad beans and Portuguese cheese, fundamentally simple but fun and full of flavour and easily the best broad beans I have ever eaten (and that’s meant as a genuine compliment rather than damning with faint praise)

From that point on every dish wowed and amazed. The Lemon sole (pictured above) was inventive with flavour but cooked with classic technique and visually was one of the nicest things I saw all year.

So why do I tip Viajante for an elusive star from the rotund rubber man? Apart from it’s appeal to me as a value for money hunting foodie; in a year which included a trip to world conquering Noma, Viajante stands out in my mind as one of the most fun food experiences I had. An experience of inventive, technical and flavoursome cuisine in an accomplished setting with faultless service throughout.

Winter warfare

It was all going fine. I was adjusting to winter with seasonal gastronomy. The days were starting to get cold, really cold, but I was winning the battle. Armed with warming, rustic food, food of real substance, I was keeping spirits up.

Moro cookbook’s Oxtail with rioja and chorizo was cooked over two days but landed a heavy blow in this war of attrition with a hit of spice and warmth which induced thoughts of warmer climates yet felt so appropriate to wintry Britain. Well worth the effort, the suspicious feeling that this winter’s gas bill could cause a stress related ulcer was softened by the economic sense of the dish; a cheap cut of meat cooked in such a way as to produce lots of gorgeously beefy and rioja-y stock with which to make other hearty (which for me often means chorizo based) soups and stews.

Further advances were made thanks to Hollowleg’s Mixed Mushroom Ragu with Cheesy Polenta recipe. My previous attempts at using polenta had all pretty much floundered but feeling inspired I ventured once more and found it to be a fantastic basis for a quick meal (I served it simply with sausages) on evenings that are getting increasingly shorter. Nothing puts a dent in the battle formation of winter weather more than a gooey and rich cheesy polenta, so mature I expected it to come out with war stories of it’s own.

All was going well. Then this happened.

Now on the back foot, suddenly out of ideas, fatigue and weariness setting in, I feel I’m losing the battle. There’s nothing for it but one last charge. Into the valley of death (an icy Tesco car park) I shall ride and either be vanquished (wheels spinning as my poor Punto struggles on the ice) or emerge revitalised, spicy sausage in hand, ready to cook on in this war.

Off the Scale

One of the biggest issues I’ve encountered moving out as a first time buyer is maintaining our successful, gastronomically interesting lives whilst having a less than desirably equipped kitchen.

 Rather than recede into the culinary wasteland I took this bull by the horns; using only my own powerful visual assessment. And if I do say so myself, I think it was quite a success. Recipes such as msmarmitelover's munchkin soufflé (above) and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstal's Welsh Rarebit (below used as a topping for a smoked haddock tart) didn’t suffer for having to eyeball 50g of flour or however much cheddar I decided was sufficient to satisfy my cheesy craving. 

In fact the imposition has been a blessing in disguise. It’s forced me to have patience and do things more carefully. Any idiot can blindly follow a recipe and bludgeon their way through. Mixing ingredients together slowly, dutifully stirring and tasting until you reach the desired result takes a lot more skill and technique. I for one have really enjoyed it.

That said, Christmas isn’t far away and I’m always awkward to shop for.

The First Roast

A 17 hour night shift, returning a neurotic dog to it’s owners, cleaning the house from top to bottom to rid it of the previously mentioned dog’s hair. Like many a pondered exam question I ask, what is the next step in the pattern? The answer, obviously, is attempt to cook my first roast dinner since moving in.

This may not sound that much of a challenge (the first roast bit anyway, not the rest) but using a unfamiliar oven and new roasting tin to make what is more or less my first full roast dinner ever felt pretty daunting. I had high standards to maintain as well, the better half’s mum’s roast are of legendary proportions both in quality and quantity and are, easily, restaurant standard (in fact I’ve eaten more than a few restaurants that she’d beat, and I get lashing of red wine gratis at Chez Gillie).

I was nervous to say the least. Could I keep the pork moist but get some decent crackling? Would the potatoes crisp up having already boiled them to the consistency of smash? I spent so much time watching the Yorkshires, willing them to rise, that the pattern of our kitchen flooring is permanently marked upon my knees. 

Rise they did. Although not a faultless success (some of the yorkies stuck a bit and the pork was slightly over done to my own, hypercritical, taste) there was plentiful crackling and I was given the imperious thumbs up from the better half. A Sunday roast dinner, especially now the weather is worsening and with the days getting shorter and shorter, is a sacred event; the warmth of the kitchen steaming up every window in the house, drinks shared by loved ones, with a chance to put the weeks events into perspective over comforting, unchallenging food. For me, this first roast will always be a success because it gave me that inner feeling of warmth and cosyness that a good roast should.

A Rather Agreeable Agreement

Having recently bought a house and moved in with my better half I have found myself taking part in a rather agreeable trading of skills. In return for doing the vast majority of the housework, the washing and ironing and all those other jobs that all men detest, I simply have to do the cooking and take care of the kitchen!

A little background. I am an aspiring foodie. I drive a clapped out old Punto, I shop at primarche, over time I’ve fashioned the world’s first pair of string boxers and I have kept pairs of trainers for several years after they stopped being waterproof but when eating out, money is no object in search of gastronomic excellence. I love eating tasty and comforting food, all the better if I’m the one who’s cooked it. If there was one thing that would make me love cooking and food even more, ensuring I don’t have to do a lot of the housework is definitely it!

Although the recently acquired mortgage will hinder eating out at many of the nation’s fine restaurants, those I endeavour to visit shall be chronicled here, as well as updates on my varying success at ensuring the better half’s sustenance.