Whilst my Mac is being re-habilitated I don’t have access to my holiday pics, so I’ll have to come back to the stuff I rustled up in France at a later date. But my camera is still working, and I’ve bought my schizo old mac back from the dead, so I can do a bit of posting in the meantime.

This recipe is my take on the tapas classic Gambas al Ajillo, and It’s pretty simple and quick too. Buy the biggest, fattest prawns you can afford. Serves two as a main course.

Ingredients

8 King prawns / Tiger prawns

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 dried or fresh red chilli, chopped

20g unsalted butter

35ml extra virgin olive oil

Juice of 1/2 large lemon

Salt to taste

Handful of flat leaf parsley, chopped

Method

First up get a large frying pan on the heat and melt the butter in the olive oil. Whilst this is going on, chop the chilli and and the garlic and then add to the pan. At this point, keep the heat low. What you want to do at this point is get the oil really nicely infused with the garlic and chilli.

After a couple of minutes, crank up the heat to full. As soon as the garlic and chilli start to sizzle in the butter and oil, add a good pinch of salt, and then the prawns, fitting them sugly togehher in the pan so they all have equal contact with the bottom of it.

They cook really quickly, turning from grey to pink almost instantly, and only really need a minute on each side. Once they’ve had their minute on each side, add the lemon juice and shake the pan vigorously to mix with the butter, oil, garlic and chilli to form this awesome piquant sauce. Finally, sprinkle over the parsley.

Serve immediately with a mixed salad and a enough sourdough bread to dunk and make the most of the sauce.

Sorry for the radio silence, my Mac has given up the ghost and has had to go in for repairs, so I’m having to write this from work (don’t tell the boss).

So France was awesome as expected. We were staying in Provence at a place my folks had rented with the rest of my familly, about an hour north of Marseille, near a town called Fourcalquier. I’m sure this is going to come over like I’m a smug ponce, but it really is a lovely part of the world. The landscape is amazing. Rolling fields of poppies, lavender and crops, the climate is awesome, and you really notice how quiet it is compared to London.

Aside from spending time with my familly, eating, drinking and doing a bit of cooking, the two highlights for me were going to Forcalquier market and hanging out in a little village called Banon.

Forcalquier marché happens every Monday morning and is a peculiar mixture of food, clothing and a whole lot of baskets. The produce on display was a food lovers dream. Amazing meat, bread, cheese, tarts, and other goodies like salami, garlic, olive oil, fruit and veg, all produced in the local area.

The farmers and stall holders are obviously really proud of their produce, encouraging you to try their wares at every turn. They are also refreshingly un-prissy about how they handle their food. They poke, prod and handle it. Not in an aggressive way, but like they are connected to and care about it. None of the rubber glove wearing supermarket staff who look scared to handle a chicken breast like you get over here.

We dropped ALOT of cash, but it was well worth it.

Banon also had a market; it wasn’t really in the same league as Fourcalquier’s, but it was a lovely place. Kind of how you imagine a little French village to be. Nice bar on the square, people pootling around, a good boulangerie and an amazing boucherie where the picture of the ’salami curtain’ was taken. A great place to hang out, relax and watch the World go by.

I’ll get some more France related stuff up soon when my Mac gets fixed. Don’t hold your breath.

It’s been hot, hot, hot in London town this week, and the warm weather has got me thinking about summer food. Aside maybe from a decent burger on a barbie, for me it’s the Mediterraneans that totally nail ‘al fresco’ eating. Grilled meats, crunchy veg and fresh zingy flavours.

These lamb wraps have all that and more. The taste of the spicy, charred, marinated meat and the tzatziki work really well together, and the wraps mean that the dish is still pretty light. We don’t have a garden, so our griddle pan has to do.

Ingredients (makes 3 large wraps)

For the lamb

400g lamb leg steaks

Handful of fresh oregano leaves, chopped

2 cloves of garlic, chopped

1 teaspoon dried chilli flakes

Juice of one lemon

50ml extra virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika

Pinch of salt

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the tzatziki

200g 0% fat Greek yoghurt

1/4 cucumber, sliced and diced

Handful of mint leaves, chopped

Pinch of salt

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

A good glug of extra virgin olive oil

For the wraps

Flatbread wraps

Salad leaves (rocket, spinach, watercress or other)

Red onion, thinly sliced

Red chilli, finely sliced

Method

A few hours before you eat, preferably overnight, marinate the lamb. Chop the oregano and garlic, and then add to a bowl with the salt, pepper, paprika, chilli, lemon juice and olive oil. Whisk together, pour over the lamb, making sure the steaks are coated, and then pop in the fridge for at least two hours.

While the lamb is marinating make the tzatziki (you can also do this the night before). Cut the quarter cucumber into half centimeter slices, and then dice. Pop into a bowl along with the chopped mint leaves, garlic, salt, pepper yoghurt and olive oil. Mix well and then set aside.

When you are ready to eat, get your barbecue or griddle pan on. When its good and hot, pop on your lamb. You want it nice and pink in the middle, so if your steaks are around a centimeter or so thick, you want to cook them for about 2 or 3 minutes each side. While the meat’s cooking, slice the red onion and chilli finely so they’re ready to go on the wraps.

When the meat’s cooked, take off the heat to rest for a few minutes. Whilst it’s resting, get a dry frying pan on the heat. When it’s hot, cook the flatbreads on the pan for 30 seconds on each side.This softens them up and makes them easier to handle.

You’re now ready to assemble the wraps. Spread a third of the tzatziki over the center of the wrap and then scatter some salad leaves on the top. Slice up the lamb steaks on the diagonal, and place on top of the leaves. Finally, sprinkle on the sliced onion and chilli, wrap up and then eat immediately.

Good times (I hope this makes sense, I was a bit drunk when I wrote it).

I love a bit of pork belly, but I don’t cook it at home that often. I’m not really sure why, but as soon as I taste that tasty, unctuous meat and get my teeth round that crackling, I vow to do it more often.

This recipe gives the belly the Eastern treatment using Szechuan pepper and Chinese five spice. Despite a lot of the fat rendering out during the cooking process, it’s definitely not the healthiest meat, but when it tastes as good as it does, who gives a toss.

Ingredients (serves 2)

For the pork

750g pork belly joint

1 tablespoon Szechuan pepper

1 teaspoon black pepper corns

1 teaspoon Chinese five spice

1 teaspoon sea salt

For the greens

200g baby pak choi

1/2 red chilli, chopped

2 cloves of garlic, chopped

1 tablespoon Light soy sauce

2 tablespoons water

6-8 Spring onions

Sesame oil

Vegetable oil

Method

First up, score the skin of pork belly all over in a diamond formation with as sharp a knife as you’re got. You want to cut through the skin, but not down to the flesh, around 3 millimeters deep.

Put a kettle on to boil, place your belly joint on a wire rack in your sink, and when it’s boiled, pour the water all over the pork’s skin. The skin will contract a bit making the scoring more prominent. Now pat the joint dry and set aside.

Pop a dry frying pan on the heat, and toast off the Szechuan and black pepper corns. When you can smell them, pour them in a pestle and mortar and grind into a powder. Now add the five spice and salt to the mortar and give it another grind to mix everything together.

Flip the belly joint over so it’s skin side down, and then rub the spice mix all over the pork meat. Set aside to marinate somewhere cool for at least 2 hours. You can leave it overnight in a fridge, but make sure the joint is at room temperature and check the skin is still dry before you cook it.

After a couple of hours, set your oven to 200 c and get your pork out. Some moisture will have leeched out of the meat, soaking into the spice rub. This is totally normal, and will help the rub stick. Now get a roasting tray which you can place a wire rack over and place the joint on the rack skin side up. Some of the rub will fall off, don’t worry about that. Now boil a kettle, pour the boiled water into the tray (avoiding getting the meat wet) until it is half full, and then put it in the oven.

Cook the joint for 20 minutes before turning the oven down to 180 and cook for another hour. Whilst the pork is cooking, cut the pack choi lengthways, slice the garlic and chop the clillies.

After an hour, take the pork out of the oven and remove from the rack. Turn the oven up as high as it will go, and then get your frying pan on the heat with a small amount of vegetable oil in it. When it’s good and hot, pop in the joint skin side up. You’re doing this to seal on the remaining spice rub to the bottom of the joint. After a minute, pop the joint back in the oven in the pan for 15 minutes.

Now cook your greens. Get a wok on the heat, add a few drops of sesame oil, a glug of vegetable oil and then fry the garlic and chilli. Before they brown, drop in the greens and stir fry for a couple of minutes, coating the veg with the oil. Then add the light soy sauce, water and cook for another couple of minutes.

You’re now ready to eat. Take the pork out of the oven, pop the greens in a bowl, cut the joint into chunks and serve straight away with steamed white rice.

Double happiness.

One of the other dishes I was thinking about for the previous post was this omelette for two. I thought it could work quite well in that it combines seaside ingredients with the romantic nature of Lou and Liam’s retreat. However, fish for brekkie isn’t to everyone’s tastes, so this is the kind of dish you can enjoy at any time of the day.

There’s only one mackerel fillet in the mix so the flavour isn’t too strong, and  I use a bit of zero fat Greek yoghurt in the eggs to help keep the omelette moist in the middle. The little bit of  sharpness the yoghurt gives also works well with the oily fish.

Ingredients

4 large free range eggs

2 tablespoons 0% fat Greek yoghurt

1 mackerel fillet (around 70g)

1/2 medium onion, chopped

2 tablespoons chopped chives

2 tablespoons chopped flat leaf parsley

Handful of grated Parmesan

Salt and pepper to taste

Olive oil and butter for frying.

Method

First up, get your grill on full and then put a frying pan on the heat. When it’s really good and hot, pop in your mackerel. Fry it for about a minute or so on each side. This gets some of the oil out of the fish, but also brings out it’s flavour and makes it easy to flake. I also like the tasty brown caremelised crust it makes on the outside.

When done, set aside the mackerel, wipe down the pan with some kitchen paper to get rid of the excess fish oil. Then turn down the heat, add a little olive oil and then gently fry off the onion. You want it translucent as opposed to brown, and when it is, set aside with the mackerel.

Next crack your eggs into a bowl, season with a small pinch of salt, and a good few grindings of black pepper. Mix in the yoghurt to the eggs, and whisk thoroughly getting rid of the lumps. Now add the Parmesan, onion, chopped chives and parsley to the eggs. Flake the mackerel fillet in too, and then mix together.

Get 20 cm diameter  frying pan on the heat (a different one to the one you fried your fish in preferably). When it’s nice and hot, add a nob of butter, coat the inside of the pan and then add the egg mixture. Leave for a minute or so, and then go around the outside of the pan with a spatula to make sure it’s not sticking.

You want the base of the omelette to be golden brown before transferring to the oven to brown the top, keep checking by turning up the edge with the spatula. When ready, slide into the oven.

As the top of the omelette is cooking, it will puff up as it browns. This will happen at the edges first, and then work it’s way into the centre of the pan. You want the omelette to be moist, so pretty much as soon at the centre is brown, whip it out of the oven and turn it out onto a plate.

Serve with a peppery salad of rocket, chard and thinly sliced radishes with a lemon, dijon mustard and olive oil dressing.

Give it a try.

As I may or may not have mentioned before, my other half’s family are a real mixed bag in terms of nationalities. Chinese, Indian, and South African to name but three. A veritable melting pot compared to my comparatively mundane ancestry.

As a result, my future mother in law, Connie, seems to be able to cook anything. From insane curries and whole fried Chinese fish, to cream horns and South African doughnuts. And the speed she does it at is mind blowing. Turn your back for 10 seconds and when you look back there’s a plate of food in front of you. Brilliant.

This recipe is for her quick lamb curry that I tried whilst over in Oz and she kindly wrote the recipe down for me. It’s very tasty, and also very easy. If you can get your lamb on the bone, so much the better as it’ll give your curry more flavour.

Ingredients

750g stewing lamb, diced

1 large onion, chopped

4 cloves garlic, pounded

1 thumb sized piece of ginger, pounded

1/4 teaspoon tumeric

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon chilli powder

1 teaspoon garam masala

1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds

1 cinnamon stick

1 chilli, chopped

1/2 can tomatoes

1 can green lentils, drained

1 tablespoon chopped coriander

1 pinch of sugar

Salt to taste

Method

Get a thick bottomed pan on the heat and add a good couple of glugs of vegetable, rape seed or groundnut oil. When it’s good and hot, pop in all the dried spices and fry them off to release the aromatics. After a minute or so, add the chopped onion and fry off.

Whilst this is going on, roughly chop the onion and ginger, and pound in a pestle and mortar with a little salt until pasted. Add this to the onions and continue to fry. Next, chop the chilli and add it to the mix seeds and all, along with the cinnamon stick and curry leaves. Give a good stir and continue to fry.

Now wash the lamb in cold water, drain and then add to the pot. Lightly fry the outside of the meat, and when light brown add the half can of tomatoes, a pinch of sugar and the chopped coriander. Don’t worry about the curry going dry, the ingredients will give off enough moisture to keep the curry moist. Now stick a lid on it and simmer gently until the lamb is falling off the bone and tender, which should be around 45 minutes.

Take off the lid, add the drained green lentils to the curry, and bring up to the boil. And that’s pretty much it. Serve the curry with boiled Basmati rice and a simple raita made with yoghurt, cucumber, fresh mint and coriander.

Let’s just hope I did the recipe justice.

There are few meals as satisfying as a roast chicken. Even if you’re having a REALLY shit day, a roastie can turn tings around. What’s more, there are always leftovers, which means there’s always another meal or two to be eeked out of the carcass.

We roasted a particularly big bird last weekend, so I decided to do the leftover chicken justice by making a few pies. It’s a pretty easy recipe, especially if you buy ready rolled puff pastry from the supermarket. The below will make 4 small pies or one biggun. Here’s how it’s done.

Ingredients

250g roast chicken – mixture of white and brown meat

1 large leek, finely chopped

1 large carrot, chopped

1 large clove garlic, chopped

2 rashers smoked bacon, chopped

70g chestnut mushrooms

300ml chicken stock

1ooml single cream

100ml white wine

1 tablespoon chopped tarragon

1 tablespoon plain flour

1 pack ready rolled puff pastry (around 350g)

1 egg, beaten

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

Method

Wash the leek and then chop finely. Add olive oil to a heavy bottom pan, turn on the heat and then add the leeks. Peel the carrot, chop and add to the pan along with the chopped bacon and garlic. Fry until soft and then add the mushrooms to the pot.

Once the mushrooms have cooked down a bit, add the flour and stir in. The flour will coat the veggies, and the mixture will become a bit pasty. Now add the wine, stir in and burn off the alcohol, before adding the chicken stock and the roast chicken. Stir all together, and then season with salt and pepper to taste.

You should have the makings of a fairly decent gravy by now. Reduce the liquid by about a quarter, and then add the tarragon. Stir in and then add the cream. Have a taste. If you’re happy, turn off the head and set aside to cool. If not, adjust the seasoning until you are.

Once the mixture is room temperature-ish, turn on your oven to 200 C, and start assembling your pies. Decant the mixture into whichever pie dish or dishes you’re going to use. Next, crack and beat an egg and get your ready rolled pastry out of the fridge. Using a pastry brush, paint the lip of your pie dish with the egg wash. Now cut a piece of the pastry sheet bigger than your dish, and lay it over the top of  it.

Press the pastry down around the egged lip to seal the pie. Using a sharp knife, cut of the excess off the side, and then ‘crimp’ the edge with a fork. Finally, make a little ‘chimney’ hole in the centre of the lid with a tooth pick and brush it all over with the egg wash.

The pies are now ready to cook. If you’ve made small pies they’ll take around 15 to 20 minutes, a bigger one more like half an hour. Either way, the pastry lid should be dark golden brown and puffed up when they’re done.

Eat immediately with new potatoes, steamed broccoli or a green salad with a mustardy vinaigrette.

Pretty good, although maybe not as good as the missus’ chicken pie, but thats another story.

Been crazy busy since we got back from Oz, so have got a bit behind on the writing stuff. But back to the land down under for a quick coffee related post.

As mentioned previously, there’s been a bit of an Australian coffee shop invasion in London over the past year or so. Places like  Lantana, Flat White, Milk Bar and Kaffeine have their own style and atmosphere, but all have one thing in common. Great coffee. As I understand it, ‘coffee culture’ hit Australia and New Zealand about the same sort of time as it did in the UK in the early 90s, but interestingly instead of succumbing to the big brands pumping out the brown liquid passing itself off as coffee sold the length and breadth of our high streets, our Antipodean cousins adopted a more artisan based approach. In fact, such is their devotion and knowledge of good coffee that even the mighty tentacles of Starbucks have failed to gain a foothold in Australia. As my friend Mutber put it, “…you can’t sell a bad product to an educated audience.”

Melbourne is probably better known for starting this Australian coffee revolution, but Campos in Newtown has been leading the charge in Sydney since 2002. Like Harry’s in the previous post, it’s a pretty unassuming looking place on a side street off the busy Kings Street, but once you’re inside you know you’re in a temple to coffee. When we visited, it was packed with people queuing diligently for their daily dose. There were around 5 baristas behind the bar, and interestingly that’s exactly what Campos feels like. A bar. There’s a real buzz about the place. It’s loud, full of people catching up with friends, standing, sitting, hanging out, chatting with the staff, reading the papers, and so on.

We ordered flat whites, which is apparently a bit of a cliche these days. I’m sure the real connoisseurs only drink espressos, and I’m sure they also let you know all about it too. Anyway, each to their own. When our coffees arrived, not only did they look beautiful with the trademark flat white foam ‘art’ but they tasted amazing too. Really rich and creamy, but also smooth. It sounds odd, but you know you’re actually drinking a cup of coffee. I guess my pallet has become too accustomed to coffee flavoured hot milk. You also get much less in a cup than you do at most places in the UK. Probably a good thing as a Campo’s coffee packs a pretty heavy caffeinated punch.

Sufficiently impressed, we wanted to take a bit of Campos home with us so went back later that day to get some ground coffee to smuggle back. We opted for the Obama Blend, which like the man himself is a mix of African and American, and promises a cup with, “Great depth of character”. We’ve not sampled it yet, but it ounds like the kind of change all coffee lovers can believe in.

I Tweeted about these bad boys a few weeks ago when I discovered that they’d been re-stocked by my lovely Scandinavian friends down the road from work, but such is my love for the Peanott Kubbe that I thought they deserved a post all of their own.

I rarely get evangelical or geeky about chocolate bars, but having discovered the Peanott Kubbe last year I can make an exception. Hailing from Norway, and roughly translated as ‘Peanut Log’, it’s a chocolate, peanut and toffee bar with a difference.

Like a Bounty, the bar comes in two halves. The outer is made of a milk chocolate layer studded with roasted peanut chunks that surrounds a second layer made of dark chocolate, which in turn surrounds the smooth toffee centre. The toffee core has smooth nougatey texture with an almost burnt caramel taste, which contrasts with the bite and flavour of the peanuts and chocolate. Thats right. Toffee, peanut and two types of chocolate. Whats not to love?

I’m going to shut up now, but I can’t recommend them enough. You can find the Scandinavian Kitchen (which is a very fine cafe if you haven’t been) and Peanott Kubbe here.

Veal had a bit of a bad rep in the 80s, but that didn’t stop the veal escalope becoming one of my favourite things to eat when I was growing up. There used to be this great Italian restaurant called La Baita up the road from my folk’s place in North London that we’d to go to on a pretty regular basis. I pretty much always ordered the veal escalope, which was served with sauteed potatoes and deep fried courgette. Not exactly healthy, but very tasty.

This is a bit of a remix of that childhood favourite. The prep is a bit fiddly, but well worth it.

Ingredients

For the Veal

2 veal escalopes

Seasoned plain flour

Thyme, finely chopped

Breadcrumbs (enough to coat both escalopes – 250 ish g)

1 egg, beaten

For the Courgette & Potato Cake

1 large potato, grated

3 courgettes, grated

1 medium onion, finely sliced

1 large clove of garlic, finely chopped

1 chilli

Handful of grated Parmesan cheese

Grated nutmeg

Salt and pepper to taste

2 medium eggs

Olive oil

Method

Start by preparing the the cake. Grate the potato and courgette, and then finely slice the onion (in a food processor if you have one). Turn out onto a clean tea towel, bunch up and squeeze the excess moisture out of the grated veggies. Place in a bowl and add the chopped chilli, finely chopped garlic, Parmesan cheese, salt, pepper and a few grates of nutmeg. Mix together, crack in the two eggs, mix again thoroughly and then set aside.

Now prep the veal. Scatter plain flour on a large plate and season with salt and pepper, then take another plate and scatter on the breadcrumbs. Chop the thyme, and then mix into the crumbs. Finally beat an egg in a flat bottomed bowl. Take each escalope, pat dry with kitchen towel, and then coat with the seasoned flour. Pat off the excess and then dip in the egg, covering the surface of the meat. Then coat with the breadcrumbs, patting down to make sure the escalope is covered, and then set aside.

Get a large frying pan on the heat, and coat with olive oil. Decant the courgette and potato mixture into the pan and flatten with the back of a spatula to form an even cake about an inch thick, and then turn on your grill to maximum. Cook on the hob for around 5 minutes. Turn up the side of the cake with the spatula, once it’s a dark golden brown, pop it under the grill for another five mintes.

Whilst the courgette and potato cake is in the oven, get another frying pan on the heat. Add some rapeseed or groundnut oil to the pan, and when it’s good and hot, pop in the breaded veal escalopes. Fry on each side for around one minute, or until golden brown. Remove from the pan, rest on kitchen towel to remove excess oil, and you’re ready to eat.

Serve with a slice of the courgette and potato cake, a parsley, red onion and cucumber salad dressed with a nice mustardy vinaigrette, and a wedge of lemon. Buon appetito!

A tweet from Warp Records got me a bit hot under the collar yesterday. The reason? A few posthumous new tracks from the donut obsessed J Dilla. Released on Stones Throw Records, you know this is going to be one of those occasions where style and substance go hand in hand. Just check out the packaging and donut slip mats. Tasty!!!

For those that don’t know, J Dilla was an incredible Hip Hop producer who sadly passed away in 2006. He was prolific, and insanely talented, producing for the likes of Busta Rhymes, Erykah Badu, A Tribe Called Quest and even Janet Jackson (possibly a low point there).

In collaboration with Madlib, he made one of my favourite Hip Hop albums of the noughties, the awesome ‘Champion Sound’. Just check ‘The Heist’ and the title track if you want any evidence. Mad and Dilla were supposed to make a follow up. I’m not sure whether they got started or not, or whether any tracks will ever see the light of day, but we live in hope.

His music has had a lasting impact on hip hop and beyond, and many consider him to be the father of the so called ‘wonky’ sound being championed by artists like Flying Lotus.

Anyway, I’ll leave you with one of the tracks off Donut Shop, Dilla’s rather acidic take on Men With Hat’s 80’s folky synth-pop tune ‘Safety Dance‘. Enjoy.

For more info on Dilla, check out the fantastic three part Stussy Produced mini documentary on the man himself.

RIP.

There’s an old adage about doing one thing well as opposed to doing a few things averagely, which would have been very apt for this post, but despite trawling the whole interwebs I can’t find it. Oh well.

So last night our fiends Charlotte and Mark introduced to us this restaurant called Relais de Venise L’Entrecôte. It seems it’s a bit of an institution, but somehow never made it onto my radar. It’s on Marylebone Lane, right opposite the awesome Golden Hind fish and chip shop (which deserves a post all of its own – all in good time), and is a great example of the benefits of  the ‘do one thing well’ mantra.

At L’Entrecôte there’s basically no menu. You sit down (after a lengthy queue if you arrive at peak times) and get served a lettuce and walnut salad with a lovely mustardy vinaigrette, followed by steak frites. The steak comes served thinly sliced, covered in the restaurants own special sauce, the recipe of which is closely guarded. And that’s it. Kind of.

The story of the sauce, and the restaurant itself is quite an interesting one. In 1959, a guy called Paul Gineste de Saurs bought an old Italian restaurant in the 17th arrondissement of Paris. He decided that he was going to serve a very simple menu, which remains unchanged to this day, and instead of serving his steaks with the traditional herb butter, he created his own sauce. Everyone went mad for the sauce, and the restaurant was a hit. There are rumours of a family fallout between Monsieur de Saur’s kids, but one of his daughters now runs the restaurant, and is responsible for opening other locations in London, New York, Barcelona and bizarrely Bahrain. She is also the guardian of the secret sauce recipe. The waitress told us that it is still made in France and shipped over as a paste, where it is finished in house with butter, parsley and shallots.

The venue is a bit Disney does bistro, but the quality of the food more than made up for it. The salad was very simple but tasty, and the steak tender, flavoursome and cooked to perfection, the frites excellent, and that sauce. WOW. It tastes a bit like a pesto remixed with extra Parmesan, butter anchovy and no pine nuts. You can understand why those Parisians went so crazy for it all those years ago.

The portions aren’t huge, but they do come round with seconds, which is a nice touch. The house wine was also pretty decent, and there is a menu for cheese and dessert, both of which were also good. But to be honest, what you’re really here for is the steak and sauce, and I for one will be going back for more soon.

Apologies for the quality of the photos. I only had my iPhone on me.

So to much hype and fanfare, Marmite has launched a new limited edition product, Marmite XO. Billed as the only choice for true Marmite connoisseurs, XO (Extra Old) purports to have a deeper, richer, more complex flavour, like a fine wine.

Now off the bat, I should probably admit that I’m a Marmite fan. I love the stuff. Always have done, probably always will. But I’ve got to admit that there’s something about Marmite’s recent behaviour thats beginning to piss me off a bit. I was quite into the Guinness variant that came out a couple of years ago, and then the champagne one that came out around Valentine’s Day. Neither tasted as good as the original, but they felt a bit special. No song and dance, just a nice little treat for Marmite fans.

But now with the whole XO marketing campaign, premium price tag, ’spoof’ website and Facebook blah blah blah, it all feels a bit of a cynical money making operation. It stinks of Unilever’s clumsy brand police and ad agencies trying to be ever so clever.

And it doesn’t stop here, there was a ‘pop up shop’ on Regents Street at Christmas selling all sorts of branded rubbish like cook books, toys, T shirts, and then there’s the current brand campaign. The whole we’re so ‘crazy’ that we’ve made a Marmite cereal bar!! Have we gone to far?! Did I mention that we’re kkeerrraazzee??!! Replete with the now ubiquitous ’social media’ elements, again the whole thing feels so try hard, and to be frank, predictable.

Anyway, rant over. I tried the XO earlier and it’s nice. Beefier and maybe a little fuller flavoured than the original, but not really any better. And definitely really not worth all the bother, or the £3.99 price tag. In my mind its time these big companies and conglomerates stopped screwing with the brands that people love and just kept it simple. More noise doesn’t make better products.

Verdict: All mouth and no trousers.

Photo by Cafe Darclee

It’s Shrove Tuesday aka Pancake day. Traditionally a time to get rid of sugar, fat and eggs before fasting for Lent, it’s now a bit of a treat in the culinary calendar.

Pancakes are ridiculously easy and quick to prepare, and once you’ve got them made, you can stick pretty much anything you fancy in them.

This recipe employs the five 1s formula.

Ingredients

1 egg, preferably free-range or organic

1 cup of self-raising flour

1 cup of milk

1 pinch of salt

1 nob of butter (melted, around 20g)

Method

Whisk together the egg, flour and milk in a bowl, melt the butter in a pan and then beat into the mix removing any lumps.

Some people say its good to set aside the batter for half an hour or so before you attempt making any pancakes, I’m not sure if makes that much difference, but it doesn’t do any harm, so why not give it a go.

Heat up your frying pan and using a piece of kitchen towel with a nob of butter on it lightly coat the pan. When it’s good and hot, ladle in enough batter to thinly coat the pan’s base. Pick up the pan and tip from side to side to ensure it’s coated evenly. Once one side is just turning golden brown, either toss it or flip it over with a fish slice to cook the other side.

At this point you can add some fillings. We had our savoury pancakes this year with Emmental cheese and smoked ham. Place thin slices of Emmental on half of the pancake’s base, top with the sliced ham and then fold in half. Serve with a mixed salad with a Dijon mustard dressing.

For the sweet ones we had the classic lemon and sugar, still a favourite, and also tried a more American style filling of banana, crunchy peanut butter and maple syrup, which I’ve got to say was super tasty.

Roll on next year.

The video write up says it all:

“John Nese is the proprietor of Galcos Soda Pop Stop in LA. His father ran it as a grocery store, and when the time came for John to take charge, he decided to convert it into the ultimate soda-lovers destination. About 500 pops line the shelves, sourced lovingly by John from around the world. John has made it his mission to keep small soda-makers afloat and help them find their consumers. Galcos also acts as a distributor for restaurants and bars along the West Coast, spreading the gospel of soda made with cane sugar (no high-fructose corn syrup if John can avoid it)”.

In an age of faceless corporations and consumerism, its a joy to see a guy who’s so committed to his particular niche, his suppliers, and his customers. I hope the Galcos Soda Pop Stop weathers all the financial storms and fashions that come it’s way, and gets passed down to the next generation of soda obsessives. And apologies for the bad Star Wars pun in the title.

I seem to be on bit of a Italian tip at the moment, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

This recipe is kind of inspired by that bit in Goodfellas where the coked up Henry Hill is running all over town convinced he’s being trailed by a helicopter, whilst also preparing a homecoming feast for his sick brother. He’s there making the meatballs (or polpette), a vat of tomato sauce, aubergines and so on, and despite his paranoid state, all the food looks really tasty. I think Henry’s polpette were made with beef;  these are a mix of veal and pork mince, but whaddaya gonna do?

Ingredients (Serves 4)

For the meatballs

400g veal mince

400g pork mince

2 large cloves of garlic, finely chopped

1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano

1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage

A good grating of nutmeg

Salt and freshly milled black pepper to taste

Plain flour for ‘dredging’

1 large egg

For the sauce

1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped

3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

1 large stick of celery, finely chopped

1 carrot, peeled and finely chopped

1 red chilli, de-seeded and finely chopped

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary

50g tomato puree

3 tins chopped tomatoes

200ml white wine

Salt and freshly milled black pepper to taste

Method

To make the meatballs, put all the dry ingredients in a bowl, grate in the nutmeg, add the salt and pepper, and mix with a spoon before cracking the egg in. Now get your hands in there and combine all the ingredients really well. You’re now ready to make the balls. In terms of size, you’re looking for something between a radish and a squash ball, and it really helps if you have wet hands to stop the mixture sticking. Take a dollop of the mixture, compact it in your hands, and then roll into a ball. Simple.

Depending on size, you should end up with between 20 and 30 balls. Once all the mixture has been used, scatter some plain flour on a plate, and then roll the balls through it. Roll the balls from hand to hand to shake off the excess flour before setting aside. Now pop a thick bottomed pan or casserole dish on the heat and add a few glugs of olive oil. You’re now going to brown the balls in the hot oil; you’ll probably have to do this in batches. As soon as they are coloured all over, remove and set aside.

Using the same pan and oil, you’re now going to make the tomato sauce. Add the onion, celery, carrot and garlic and sweat off until tender. Add the chilli, rosemary and seasoning. Fry for another minute before adding the tomato puree. After another minute or so, add the white wine and de-glaze the pan. Next add the 3 tins of chopped tomatoes and bring up to simmering point. Pop on a lid and cook for a good 30-40 minutes.

Now take off the lid, and pop in the balls and simmer for another 20 minutes with the lid off. This is going to make sure the balls are cooked through, and also reduces the sauce a bit. Now get your pasta on, spaghetti or linguini is perfect. Cook until al dente, drain, divide across 4 plates, and then spoon over the meatball and tomato sauce.

Eat whilst piping hot with a good sprinkling of Parmesan and a glass of Chianti, and then go get your f**kin’ shoeshine box.

It’s no understatement to say that that I’m a BIG fan of pizza.There’s something genius in it’s simplicity. Bread. Good. Tomato sauce. Good. Cheese. Good. Some kind of meaty topping. Goooooood. And when I’m talking about the kind of pizza that I love, I’m talking about the traditional Italian kind, not the whole farmyard on a base that you get delivered at 3am after a session on the wife beater.

I’ve been lucky enough to work around Soho, central London, for most of my career, and that also happens to be the location of what must be one of the best pizza joints in the UK. Situated in a little side road between Berwick and Wardour Streets, Malletti has been knocking out  amazing pizza to a small army of adoring and loyal fans for at least as long as I’ve working in the area. The queue that snakes out of the door most lunchtimes is testament to this.

The first time I tried what Malletti has to offer was when I was working on a pitch. My then boss, who was to be frank an arse, proved that he could get something right by heading out and bringing back a load of Malletti’s pizza for his hard working troops. I can remember sinking my teeth into my first slice of spicy salami (which is still my favourite) and being blown away. The thin almost pastry like base, deep tomato flavour from the sauce, and just the right amount of mozzarella, piquant salami and chilli. It’s making me hungry just thinking about it.

It’s only a small shop, but is dominated by the glass counter on the right that displays the wide range of tasty stuff on offer. As well as traditional pizza, they do focaccias, panni style sandwiches, really great pasta specials each day (the wild boar ragu is insane)  and some sweet stuff too. There’s a small bar on the left where you can stand up and eat, but it’s a bit tight in there so most people take away. The only trouble you’re really going to have at Malletti’s is working out what to have, although you will get an earful if you’re on your mobile when you try and order. They don’t like that, and fair play to them. There’s a sign on the way in to warn you.

Malletti is a great example of somewhere that’s perennially popular because it’s always been good at what it does, and not because it’s tried to move with the times. It’s staffed by the same people who have always been behind the counter, and you get the impression that it’s a family business.

Malletti doesn’t have a website, in fact there’s surprisingly little written about it on-line full stop, but if you’re interested in getting a slice of the good life (sorry) you can find them at 26 Noel Street, London, W1F 8GT.

This is a really fast and easy mid week dinner. The dried porcini and their soaking liquid really beefs up the mushroomy flavour of the finished sauce, without them the dish can taste a bit insipid.

Ingredients (serves 2)

2 large shallots, peeled and finely sliced

1 large clove of garlic

20g dried porcini mushrooms soaked in 150ml boiling water

250g chestnut mushrooms

100ml white wine

70ml half fat crème fraîche

Chopped parsley

Grated parmesan

Salt and pepper

Linguine

Method

First up, soak the dried Porcini in boiling water and let them rehydrate. Next clean the chestnut mushrooms, chop off the ends of their stalks, cut them in half and then slice. Now fry the shallots and garlic in a little olive oil and butter until soft before adding the mushrooms. Season with a pinch of salt and some fresh ground black pepper.

As the mushrooms cook they’ll give up some liquid, when this has all but evaporated deglaze the pan with a couple of glugs of white wine.  Next add the revived Porcini. Take them out with a slotted spoon gently, and then add the soaking water. The soaking water should be brown and have loads mushroom flavour, but don’t add the last bit as the mushrooms often leave behind some grit, which you don’t want in the finished dish.

Gently reduce the slightly watery mushroom mixture, and at the same time put your pasta on. When it’s reduced by about a third, add the  crème fraîche, stir in and turn the heat right down. When the pasta is ready, drain, dress with a little olive oil and then divide into two bowls. Spoon over the mushroom mixture, sprinkle with a good quantity of grated Parmesan, and some chopped flat leaf parsley.

Eat as soon as it’s served with a glass of crisp white wine.

It’s called Selleck Waterfall Sandwich and does exactly what it says on the tin. It features pictures of actor Tom Selleck and sandwiches badly photoshopped onto waterfall scenes. My favourite is the little animation of Magnum blowing away a ham bagel with a shotgun.

This is what the internet was invented for

The 25th of January means that it’s Burns Night chez Hand To Mouth. Despite my name I’m not Scottish, and neither of us are huge poetry fans, but we both love a bit of haggis so we celebrate Scotland’s favourite son with a bit of haggis and a drop or two of whiskey.

People get a bit squeamish about haggis as it’s made with sheep offal (lungs, liver and heart) and (traditionally) cooked in a sheep’s stomach. These days most haggises are sold in artificial casings, and there’s really nothing to worry about as all the contents are mashed up and mixed with onion, oatmeal, beef fat, spices and salt.

When it’s liberated from the casing the haggis it warm, sticky, hearty and really tasty. We have ours with neeps (mashed swede – still no idea why it’s called neeps), greens, and and intense onion and whiskey gravy.

Tradition dictates that you welcome the haggis to your table with one of Burn’s most famous poems ‘Address To A Haggis’. It’s pretty tricky to read, but it’s a bit of fun.

Ingredients

Serves 2

1 small haggis

1 medium swede

1/2 a large onion

300 ml chicken stock

1/2 teaspoon marmite

1 heaped teaspoon plain flour

25 ml whiskey

150g spring greens

Butter

Olive oil

Sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Method

First up, release the haggis from it’s plastic casing then wrap up in tin foil. Put a pan of water on the heat, and when it’s up to boiling point, pop in the armour clad haggis and cover with a lid. You’re going to simmer it for around 45 minutes.

Next prepare the gravy. Chop and slice half an onion, and then brown in a pan with a little olive oil and butter. When the onions are nice and soft, add marmite. Next add the flour and stir in to the onions, forming a paste. Cook this off for a minute or so before adding the whiskey. Burn off the alcohol, and then add the stock, season with a good few grinds of black pepper, and simmer until the liquid has reduced by about a third.

When the haggis is about 25 minutes from being ready, peel and chop your swede and add to boiling water. Cook the swede for around 20 minutes, then drain and mash with some butter, salt and pepper. Whilst you’re doing this boil up the spring greens for about 3-4 minutes until tender, and then drain and also season with butter, salt and pepper.

Next remove the haggis from the water, take off the foil and then slice the casing open with a sharp knife. A word of warning, the contents of the haggis expand during cooking, so they can spill out pretty fast when you make you’re incision. Scrape out the good stuff, discard the skin and serve with the neeps, greens and a generous helping of the onion gravy.

Eat with a little dram of your favourite whiskey, and toast Robbie Burns.

To take some of the strain off last year’s Christmas shopping, my brother and I both decided that we’d buy each other an evening butchery class at the Ginger Pig in Marylebone as our Christmas presents. I’d been looking forward to it since we made the booking in November, and Last Friday was the day of reckoning. They do four different classes at the shop, pork, lamb, sausage making, and our class of choice, beef.

On arriving at the shop we were cheerily welcomed by Borut and Perry who were to be our guides on planet beef for the evening. After they’d kitted us all out in butchers whites, our hosts started off by explaining about the type of cattle that they rear on their farm in North Yorkshire (Longhorns), the difference between free range and organic, and how they actually go about preparing the beef for consumption once it’s slaughtered.

It was good to learn a bit more about the ageing process, and the rather underhand tactics that supermarkets employ when talking about their aged beef. The Ginger Pig, and most other quality butchers, dry age their beef. This means hanging the carcasses in cool ventilated rooms so that blood and moisture can leave the meat, thereby intensifying the flavour (the meat can be hung for up to 100 days, but the guys at the shop reckoned around the 35-40 day mark was perfect).

The only problem with ageing is that it leads to some wastage, as the extremities of the meat tend to go off and have to be removed and discarded. But what the supermarkets do is vacuum pack the meat before they ‘age’ it. Vac packing the meat means that none of the moisture can escape from the meat, so the flavour doesn’t develop, but importantly for them there is no wastage. So supermarkets can legitimately claim that their beef is aged and offer it at a cheaper price, but they are supplying a greatly inferior product. I guess t wasn’t a great surprise to find out yet another way in which consumers are being screwed by the big chains, but it never fails to amaze me the lengths that they will go to make money.

We then moved over to the chopping blocks to get a bit more hands on with the Longhorns. We were talked through all the different cuts and joints that the animals are broken down into, mainly focusing on the middle section of the carcass where the rump, sirloin, fillet, porterhouse, T-bone, wing rib and fore rib are all found. It was all a bit baffling at first, but it wasn’t long before we started to be able to identify our wellington from our cote de boeuf and our skirt from our strip.

It’s not really a course for the squeamish, as an important part of the action is getting up close and personal with the carcass and handling the meat. Not only feeling the different textures, density and marbling, but also cutting it up. We each had a go at sawing and jointing up a different section of the middle, aside from one of the group who was a vegetarian who came along with her partner – all rather odd.

The final practical part of the course was to prepare our own cote de boeuf joint to take home. This involved removing a section of the back bone (the joint had already been chined for us ), taking off the cap (the layer of tougher meat that sits over the rib eye meat), trimming it, French trimming the ends of the rib bones for presentation, before tying the cap back on with the most bloody complicated butchers knot known to man. Despite having all been total novices a few hours earlier, there were no real disasters, and to our untrained eyes our joints all looked pretty professional.

After all that graft, it was time for a few glasses of red wine and dinner. Whilst we’d been ‘working away’, Borut had been in the kitchen preparing an awesome roast fore rib for us. He showed us how to carve the joint properly, separating out the ribs, cap and the rib eye section of the joint. I’ve got to say, it was cooked to perfection. The rib eye was pink and moist, the cap a bit tougher but richer in flavour, and the meat around the ribs sticky and sweet. They served it with amazing dauphinoise potatoes, roast potatoes cooked in beef fat, and some green stuff. The meal was rounded off with a few more glasses of wine and a bread and butter pudding made with brioche.

I think we were all a bit high on meat when we left the shop at around 11.30, but we all agreed that it had been a really good fun and interesting evening. I came away with a fair bit more knowledge than I had before, and the confidence to know what I want to buy from now on. My local butcher is going to hate me.

The course costs £125 per person, and you can find out more about them here, and see some more photos from the evening here.

The long and short of it is that Starbucks is going to pick a few select outlets and un-brand them in order to create coffee shops with a more old fashioned and local feel. If this test is successful, they will then roll it out to other sites. Some people have described this move as a demonstration of a business being mindful of what their consumers want, but in my mind is proves what a cynical and aggressive brand Starbucks has become, and to be frank it pisses me off.

How Starbucks started as a business is a million miles away from where they are now. Originally a one off shop in Seattle’s Pike Place Market that sold artisan coffees and equipment, it didn’t become the phenomenon that it is today until it was sold to an entrepreneur called Howard Schultz in 1987. Famously in the 90s, Starbucks opened a new store every working weekday, and this pace was maintained well into the noughties.

As a result, for many Starbucks has become the ugly face of globalisation, and the site of protesters camped outside whenever they roll out yet another identical, anodyne store, a familiar one. This, along with the proliferation of all the other high street coffee chains all vying for our business, seems to have kick started a healthy trend for more traditional, independent coffee shops.

Unlike their chain gang counterparts, these shops place the emphasis on quality and ambiance over quantity and branding. A couple of great examples of the sort of place I’m talking about are The Scandinavian Kitchen and the recently opened Kaffiene that are down the road from where I work. These cafes are different, have a personality all of their own, and are a nice place to spend time. You don’t feel like you’re having a ‘vision’ thrust down your throat when you’re in there, and shock horror, they also serve up a decent cup of coffee. Not a hazelnut syrup or ’squirty’ cream canister in site.

Not surprisingly, disillusioned people have begun to migrate from the chains to seek refuge and good coffee in these independent shops. After all, if you’ve got half a brain and some taste buds why wouldn’t you? This has obviously been noted by the business bods and money grubbing analysts over at Starbucks, and they now want to get a slice of the ’slow coffee’ action. Their plan? To open ’stealth stores’ that imitate the increasingly popular indie coffee shops that have been set up as an antidote and alternative to their own brand.

With the buying power, financial backing and clout of a company like Starbucks, these fucks (I’m sorry, but in my opinion they are) will be able to open a raft of these imitation indies much faster than any start up business, either by turning existing stores or buying up prime real estate. They will no doubt clumsily flood the market with their interpretation, and in the process fool thousands of consumers into believeing that they’re having an experience that they’re not.

So how long before the idea of an indie coffee shop becomes as ubiquitous as your friendly neigbourhood Starbucks and the real indies are forced out of the marketplace? Who knows. And you never know, maybe consumers will smell the fat corporate rat and vote with their feet. I certainly hope so.

Rant over.

As mentioned in the previous post, I was down in Cornwall for Christmas. My mum always puts on a great spread while we’re down there, but with seven mouths to feed she has her work cut out, and seems to spend too much time in the kitchen. That being the case, for the last few years I’ve given her the night off and cooked a meal for the family.

This year I cooked a slow cooked shoulder of lamb with Cornish style boulangère potatoes and spring greens. The lamb is cooked in a tangy herb, lemon and anchovy marinade (I have to leave out the garlic as my dad can’t stand it, but have included it in this recipe), and the classicly French boulangère are given a South West twist with the adition of Cornish cruncher cheddar cheese.

Ingredients

For the lamb:

2.5 kilo shoulder of lamb

2 lemons (juice and zest)

10 -15 tinned anchovy fillets

Bunch of rosemary

5 large cloves of garlic

Olive oil

Freshly ground black pepper

For the potatoes:

1.5 kilos of potatoes

2 onions

200g Cornish cruncher or other mature cheddar

Fresh ground black pepper

200ml vegetable stock

100ml milk

Chopped rosmary

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Butter

For the greens:

5 heads of spring greens

Butter

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Method

First of all, get your oven as hot as it will go, then prepare the marinade for the lamb. Finely chop the garlic, rosmary and anchovy fillets, zest and juice the two lemons, add a good couple of glugs of olive oil, then season with black pepper and mix well. Next, score the lamb all over on the upper side in a diamond formation about 1/2 a centimeter deep, and place in a roasting tray resting on slices of the zested and juiced lemons. Then spoon over the marinade, making sure you work it into the slashes on the shoulder.

When the oven is good an hot, slam in the lamb. You’re going to cook it fiercely for around 30 minutes to form a kind of marinated crust on the skin, and they you’re going to turn the oven down to around 180°C and cover the roasting tray tightly with tin foil and cook for a further 3 hours.

Now prepare the potatoes. Peel then slice the spuds as thinly as you can. I used a mandolin, but if you don’t have one, try to get them about a 3mm thick. When you’ve done this, plunge them into cold water and rinse to get some of the starch out, then turn  out onto a tea towel, and pat dry with another.

Next chop and slice the two onions, and fry them until they are golden brown. This will make the finished dish sweeted and richer. Now butter a large baking dish and start putting it all together. Start with a couple of layers of potatoes, then scatter over some of the onion, cheese and rosemary. Season with salt and pepper and then repeat until you are out of potatoes. Make sure you have some cheese and rosemary left over, but don’t scatter it over the top yet. Mix the stock and milk together, and pour over the top. The liquid should come around 3/4 of the way up the dish. Next cover the potatoes with a sheet of grease proof paper.

When the lamb has about an hour and a half to go, put in the potatoes and cook for an hour with the paper on, then remove from the oven. Take off the paper, scatter the remaining cheese and rosemary on top, season generously with black pepper then and put back into the oven for the last half hour until bubbling and golden brown.

Prepare the greens by slicing into fat strips and discarding the fat ends of the stalk. Boil in salted water until tender, drain, add a good nob of butter and season with salt and pepper.

Serve with the lamb and potatoes. Praaaper jaaaab.

I had the good fortune to be in Cornwall for Christmas, and then Paris for New Years. Good food was eaten accross the festive period, more on this in subsequent posts, but first of all something for the bread geeks out there.

Whilst in Paris I made a pilgrimage to Poilâne. It may not be a familiar name, but if you love good bread it should be. It’s a bakery in Saint-Germain, and makes the most insanely tasty ‘miche’ or traditional French sourdough loaves. Set up by Pierre Poilâne, a young baker from Normandy in 1932, the shop has been knocking out these beautiful large round loaves ever since to Parisians hungry for something a bit more interesting than the regular baguette.

The bread gets it’s darker colour and deeper flavour from stone milled ‘grey’ flour, also known as T80 or ‘farine bise’. The only other ingredients are sea salt, water and sourdough starter that is derived from batches of bread prepared all those years ago. The loaves are shaped by hand, and then cooked in a wood fired oven.

The bakery is still in the family, run by Pierre’s granddaughter, the rather marvelously named Apollonia Poilâne. They now have a second store in Paris, and have more recently opened one in London. As well as half a loaf, I bought some flour from the shop in an attempt to re-create a Poilâne miche at home. Thus far my sourdough attempts have been less than successful, but hopefully a bit of French inspiration will help lift them. You can find out more abut Poilâne and the locations on their website here, and I’ll update you on my baking succeses / failures as they happen

Illustration by Chobopop

Hand To Mouth is about to enter a short period of self imposed radio silence and competitive eating.

Have a great Christmas and New Year wherever you are, and see you in 2010 for more food related shenanigans.

X

I was first taken to Mangal 1 6 or so years ago by my friends Lou and Liam who lived down the road in Hackney at the time, and I’ve been going back ever since. Back then it had a real impact on me because I’d never really been anywhere like it in the UK before. It’s completely unpretentious, a bit ramshackle, and when you step through the door you feel like you’re in a different country.

You immediately get hit by the heat and smell of grilling meat from the massive open barbecue style grill that is slap bang in the middle of the restaurant. And that’s what the Turkish ocakbasi restaurants are all about. Meat and fire. The menu is dominated by kebabs, mostly lamb and chicken, although you can also get quail and offal too. I suggest you go with a few friends, because you’re going to want to try everything, but I can heartily recommend the following.

For starters I’d go for the cacik which is like the Greek tzatziki, but here it’s really thick and creamy, and made all the more tasty by a good punch of garlic. They serve it up with warm ’sac bread’ which is a bit like a focaccia, but thinner and without the olive oil. You should also try the Lahmacun, or Turkish pizza. It’s topped with minced lamb, onions and peppers and will leave you wanting more.

For main, you should try the Beyti. A bit like a minced lamb kofte, but with more garlic, some extra spice, red pepper and parsley. The fat from the mince gets almost caramalised on the grill, and is packed with flavour. The Cop Sis is also very good. Small cubes of marinated lamb grilled to perfection and so tender. The Tavuk Sis is the same, but with chicken breast, and equally good. If you’re still hungry, get a portion of the Pirzola lamb chops. Again marinated and cooked to perfection, and tasty as hell (my mouth is literally watering as I write this). All the main dishes are served with a salad packed with fresh, crispy veg, dressed with lemon juice, a bit of oil and sprinkled with sumak. A great accompaniment to the smokey meats.

It may not be much to look at, but the long and short of it is that Mangal is amazing, and also incedibly good value for money. They don’t serve booze, but you can bring your own. There’s a sister restaurant, imaginatively called Mangal 2, just round the corner where artists Gilbert & George have dinner every night. Thats right, every night. Now, if that isn’t a ringing endorsement, I don’t know what is.

We all know that porridge is healthy, but as is often the case with healthy stuff, it can get a bit boring. Luckily porridge is also a good base for other flavours, so try out this slightly tropicaaaaal version. I’ve used ‘mugs’ as a measurement as I can’t really be bothered to be precise in the morning. And use coconut chips as opposed to dessicated if you can. This quantity will serve 2.

Ingredients

1 mug of jumbo organic oats

1 mug of semi skimmed milk

3/4 mug water

Handful of coconut chips

Small handful of dried cranberries

Small handful of dried blueberries

1 apple, cubed – preferably something with a bit of tang like a granny smith / cox or braeburn

Maple syrup

Method

Put the oats, water and 3/4 of the milk into a saucepan and bring gently up to simmering point. Let the mixture simmer gently for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, before adding the coconut chips. Simmer for a further 5 minutes, again stirring occasionally. Chop up the apple whilst this is going on.

After this time, the mixture will be pretty thick and sticky. Let it down by adding the remaining milk and some maple syrup to taste (maple is very sweet, so you don’t need that much), and remove from the heat.

Mix in the dried fruit, and the divide into two bowls. Scatter the apple cubes on top, and then eat.

Ingredients

Leftover roast chicken

Good quality French baguette

Mayo

Dijon mustard

Black pepper

Olive oil

1/2 clove garlic

Rocket

Method

First up, stick a griddle pan on your hob and get it nice and hot. Next mix together equal quantities of mayo and dijon mustard in a small bowl, and then grind a bunch of black pepper into the mix to taste (the quantity of ‘dijonaise’ you make depends on the number of sarnies you are making).

Now, cut a decent length of baguette, and slice it down the middle. I like to scoop out some of the dough from the inside the top slice, this helps make room for the filling. Drizzle some olive oil on the inside of the baguette slices, rub it in, and then place on the griddle, dough side down.

Once the bread has got nice golden brown lines on it from the bars of the griddle, remove and then rub with the cut garlic clove, before spreading liberally with the mayo / mustard mix. Place a generous quantity of roast chicken and a big handful of rocket on the bottom slice and then slap on the top and press down.

Cut in half, et mangé.

Luckily, my day job allows me to escape the office from time to time to get some head space and thinking time. There are a number of places I like to go for a bit of peace and quiet, and the Nordic Bakery is right up there with my favourites.

As the name suggests, it’s a Scandinavian style cafe, specialising in bread. The food and bread are good; simple Nordic fare including rye bread open sandwiches and cured fish, but the killer for me are the amazing cinnamon buns and the coffee.

I don’t think the buns are as fluffy as they used to be, but they still taste amazing. The cinnamon is almost intoxicating, the dough satisfyingly heavy and so sticky it’s almost a challenge to eat. Add to this a rocket fuel strength latte, you’ve got yourself a perfect afternoon break.

It’s also a really peaceful place, which is a bit of a rarity in Soho, so f you’re going to check it out, put the phone on silent and shhhhhh.

London is awash with KFC immitators who knock out chicken of a very dubious quality at very low prices. From the lyrics it’s clear that the ‘Junior Spesh’ consists of a piece of chicken (leg or wing), a portion of chips and a can of drink, all for £1.50. Not a bad deal.

Don’t forget, mayo is an extra 20p.

Around the World a crazy amount of food is wasted every day. In the UK alone it is estimated that households throw away a staggering 25% of the food they buy. This is not only shocking from the point of view that there are over a billion people around the world suffering from malnutrition, but this waste means that we are producing and transporting much more food than we need to, which in turn puts a strain on the planet and the environment.

An event being held in Trafalgar Square in London on the 16th December aims to draw attention to this issue . Called Feeding The 5000 the aim is to make a delicious lunch for 5000 people for free from food and ingredients that would otherwise have been wasted.

Visit the website to find out more about the event, food wastage and how you can get involved.

See, there is such a thing as a free lunch.

It’s probably not on the top of most people’s shopping list, but rabbit  is in season, it’s pretty cheap, it’s lean, and it’s really tasty. This recipe for a rustic Italian style ragù takes a bit of time and effort, but trust me, it really is worth it. One tip, if your butcher is any good he / she should sell you the rabbit with the liver and kidneys. Don’t throw these away, they’ll add richness to the dish. The ingredients below will serve 4-6 people.

Ingredients

Olive oil

1 large rabbit (around 1kg with the liver and kidneys), jointed

100g pancetta or smoked streaky bacon, chopped

1 large carrot, diced

1 large stick of celery, diced

1 onion, finely chopped

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 large red chilli, finely chopped including seeds

600ml chicken stock

200ml red wine

1 tin chopped tomatoes

1 tablespoon tomato puree

1 sprig rosmary, finely chopped

Small handful of sage leaves, finely chopped

2 bay leaves

Freshly ground black pepper

Fat ribbon style pasta (pappardelle / futtucine / tagliatelle) to serve

Method

Firstly remove the offal from the jointed rabbit and set to the side. Heat olive oil in a heavy casserole dish, and then brown the rabbit joints. You’ll probably have to do this in a couple of batches. Whilst this is going on, prep all the vegetables. Once the rabbit is nicely browned, remove from the pan and set aside.

Next fry off the pancetta for a couple of minutes until it’s golden, then add all the vegetables, garlic and chilli. Sweat these off for a few minutes until tender. Then add the herbs closely followed by the tomato puree. After a couple of minutes, add the red wine to de-glaze the pot. Then add the tinned tomatoes and chicken stock and bring up to the boil. As the cesserole is coming up to temperature, chop the liver and kidneys as finely as you can (they will form a kind of puree), then add them ito the mix along with a good few grinds of black pepper, and stir.

Now return the rabbit joints to the casserole. They should fit snugly into the pot and just be covered by the cooking liquid. Put the lid on, and then simmer for at least one hour. The longer you cook the rabbit, the softer and flakier the meat will become. Ideally you would slow cook it until the meat falls off the bone (around two hours).

When the meat is cooked, remove it from the pan and set aside. Carry on simmering the cooking liquid with the lid off to reduce it a bit and intensify the flavours. When the rabbit has cooled enough to touch it, fork off the meat. Hopefully it will flake off the bone in ribbons. Once you’ve stripped the joints, add the rabbit back to the pan and stir, beaking up any large pieces of meat.

Whilst the ragù is coming back up to simmering point, cook your pasta in a pan of boiling salted water. Fat ribbon pasta works best for this dish as it has more surface area for the ragù to stick to. When the pasta is cooked, drain and add back to the pan, then spoon over enough of the ragù to coat the pasta nicely. Finally drizzle a little olive oil over the dish, and then serve.

Photo - Princess Diablo

And while we’re on the subject of harvest festivals, it’s Thanksgiving today, so Happy Thanksgiving to all my American and Canadian chums.

Like Christmas dinner over here, Turkey is at the heart of any decent Thanksgiving feast, but for as long as I live I’ll never understand the whole sweet potato marshmallow thing.

Whatever you’re eating, ‘have a nice day’.

It’s arrived. The inaugural edition of ‘Fire & Knives’. I’ve been excited about this new ‘Food Quarterly’ since Tom at Nation told me about it a couple of months ago. The way it was described to me was a food magazine written by and intended for enthusiastic amateurs, and despite contributions by undoubted professionals like Matthew Fort and Ton Parker Bowles, the magazine sets out it’s editorial stall very clearly.

”Fire & Knives’ has to be about love of, enthusiasm for and fascination with food, in all its aspects. It could never be about being a connoisseur – literally ‘one who knows’ – it has to be about being an amateur – ‘one who loves’. Everybody eats. And a fundamentally elitist ‘connoisseurship’ is no longer appropriate in a country that’s finally maturing into a proper relationship with it’s food culture.”

I’ve yet to get properly stuck in, but the articles look really interesting and refreshingly unexpected. From cooking with Vincent Price to what defines English food, the magazine could only be the product of independent publishers with a real love for their subject matter. The magazine has been lovingly put together by the guys over at Present Joys, giving it an old fashioned quality feel, and making it even more of an attractive proposition. I hope it’s a huge success.

Enough of the typing, I’ve got some reading to do.

My day job takes me in to central London each day, and whilst I’m spoiled for choice for places to get lunch, I tire of giving the Prets and Eats my cash every day.  That being the case, a year or so ago my old work partner and I set ourselves on a bit of a mission to find some alternatives to the standard fayre, the results of which you can find on this map. I’ll be posting about some of the names on the list in the not too distant future, but first up I want to talk about Benito’s Hat.

No longer the preserve of stoned Californian students, the burrito has made it’s way to the UK (well London at least) and seems to be growing in popularity. I used to get my fix from an imaginatively named place called ‘El Burrito’ which promoted itself with a young Mexican kid dressed as a donkey (burrito means ‘little donkey’ in Mexican) handing out flyers, and then Benito’s Hat opened across the street. I think I went in there on the day it opened, and I’ve never darkened the donkey’s doorway since.

Based on Goodge Street, Benito’s hat has been open for a little over a year, and pretty much every lunchtime has a queue out of the door. It’s not hard to see why. The food is fresh, tasty and fast, and if you leave out the sour cream and cheese, probably not that unhealthy.

I’m a bit of a creature of habit, and always opt for a burrito with pork, black beans, hot sauce and guacamole (which costs an extra 50p – my only complaint). Once unwrapped from the foil, you know you’re in the presence of greatness. The tortillas are as soft and as warm as (I apologise for this analogy) a baby’s bum. Taking a bite you immediately get a hit of the seriously tasty stewed pork. Very similar to a ‘carnitas’ burrito you’d get in the states, the meat is intensely flavoured with lime, cinnamon, oregano and pepper black pepper. Then you taste the beans, then the heat of the chili sauce, before being soothed by the cool of the salad and guaca. The flavours are big and bold. It’s a seriously tasty and satisfying lunch.

I’ve tried other things on the menu, they’re all good, and would easily rival anything that you’d get in the Mission area of San Francisco, but I’m not sure that I’ve really done the experience justice here , so do yourself a favour if you’re in the ‘hood and eat like a Mexican this lunch time.

So, you get back from work. You’re tired, you’re hungry, but you can’t really be arsed to cook. If this sounds like you, then your prayers are about to be answered. This recipe for hot smoked mackeral and a piquant (yeah that’s right, I said piquant)  salad is fast, tasty, and with oily fish, bulgar wheat, and raw veg it’s also super healthy.

Ingredients

Serves 2-3

4 Hot smoked mackerel fillets

150g bulgar wheat

1 large clove of garlic, finely chopped

1/2 small red onion, finely chopped

1/4 of a large cucumber, diced

10-15 baby plum / cherry tomatoes, diced

Handful of flat leaf parsley and fresh mint, finely chopped

1 large red chilli, de-seeded and finely chopped

1 teaspoon Maras Biberi

The juice of half a lemon, and the same quantity of olive oil

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Method

The bulgar wheat salad is the only time consuming part of this dish, so get cracking with it first. Get a pan of water on the go, and when it’s boiling add the bulgar wheat. Simmer the wheat for 7-8 minutes, then drain with a sieve. At this point the bulgar will be almost cooked. Place the now full sieve back over the pan and put a lid on top of it. This allows the bulgar to drain thoroughly and also steam a bit so it’s cooked to perfection and a bit more ‘fluffy’ by the time you put the salad together.

Chop all the veggies and the herbs and place in a shallow bowl. Then make a sharp dressing by mixing the olive oil, lemon juice and Maras Biberi. Add the now fluffy and slightly cooled bulgar wheat and combine. Then add the olive oil and lemon dressing and mix.

Next get a dry frying pan on. Once it’s nice and hot, put the mackeral fillets it skin side down. Cook for about two minutes before flipping them over for another two.

Serve immediately with a big pile of the salad, and start feeling good.

Then I came across ‘River Cottage Bread’; a small but sensible handbook on the subject, which has basically become my bread bible. The book contains lots of recipes for breads from standard loaves, to ciabatta, naan and beyond, which are great, but for me the most interesting part of the book is the more practical stuff.

From my limited experience, it seems to me that once you’ve got the basics of making dough down, you can freestyle to a certain extent. But the stuff that is more rigid, and vital to creating consistently good bread, are the techniques and tips, and thats why this  book has become so invaluable.

For example, the book explains that you need to try and re-create the conditions of a bakers bread oven as closely as possible in your own home. It recommends that as well as having your oven as high as possible for the initial baking process, that you should also have a tray of boiling water in the oven to generate steam, as this creates optimum conditions for the bread to rise. This is the sort of stuff that you don’t discover by trial error, and kind of need to know. As you might expect, there’s also lots of practical advice on rising, proving, how to prepare your dough properly for the oven and so on.

The other great thing about the book is that it has kept me motivated to keep baking. It’s honest with you, and manages your expectations. You’re not going to produce a Poilane loaf on your first attempt. Like most things in life, baking bread takes practice, but if you stick at it your results improve quickly. I’ve created a bit of a visual document of my progress over on my Flickr account.

If you want to get a copy, you can get one from River Cottage or Amazon here.

“As far as I’m concerned, the sausage is just about man’s noblest creation. It is a wonder (or should be), a perfect piece of design, elegant and economical…Sausages are classless, as acceptable on the table of the royal family as on that of the Royle family. Is there anyone who does not smile at the sight of a sausage? Who’s mouth does not salivate just a bit at the thought of that first bite?”

So in honour of the banger and British Sausage Week, here’s a recipe for a warming and tasty sausage casserole. It’s a bit of a French remix of a Delia recipe, and is the perfect dish for this time of year.

Ingredients

6 good quality Toulouse sausages

4 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped

150 g lardons

15 shallots, peeled

1 large carrot, peeled and chopped

250 g chestnut mushrooms

500 ml French red wine

Bay leaves x 2

1 large red chili

Sprig of rosemary and thyme, finely chopped

1 tablespoon redcurrant jelly

1 heaped teaspoon of flour, dijon mustard and butter (to make a roux)

Ground black pepper

Method

Put some olive oil in a heavy bottomed pan and brown off the sausages, being careful not to puncture their skin. Once you’ve done this, remove them from the pan, set aside, and then add the lardons. Fry them off for a minute or so before adding the garlic, shallots and chopped carrot. After a couple of minutes add the mushrooms, chili and herbs to the pan and sweat off for 5 minutes or so.

Next, add the red wine and bring up to a gentle simmer, before adding the redcurrant jelly. Return the sausages to the pan, turn the heat down and put a lid on. Simmer for around half an hour. After 30 minutes, take off the lid and simmer for another 10 or 15 minutes or so to reduce some of the cooking liquid.

While the casserole is reducing, make the roux by mixing the flour, mustard and butter together. Once you’ve got a good paste together, add it to the casserole and whisk in. The roux will thicken the sauce as well as adding a bit of flavour, and as soon as it’s dissolved, you’re ready to chow.

Eat with a big, fluffy pile of mash. That’s an order.

Back to New York, if only briefly, for a quick bit about what might be my favourite place to eat breakfast in the World. Serious claim I know, but Williamsburgh’s Egg is amazing. So amazing in fact that the New York visit prior to this one I think we had breakfast there 3 times out of the 5 days we were there. We only managed twice this time, but if I lived in the neighborhood I’d have to stop myself eating here every bloody day of the week.

Egg is a really unassuming place tucked on a little side road off Bedford Avenue in Williamsburgh. It’s light years away from the city’s brash diners (that I also love) and has a really relaxed almost ‘hippyish’ atmosphere. The owners have their own little farm on the outskirts of New York state, which supplies as much produce to the restaurant as possible. I’m not 100% sure how long it’s been open, but probably around 2 years. It’s open all day, serving breakfast / brunch until the evening when the menu becomes a bit more substantial. I’ve not eaten there in the evening, but I’ve heard it’s good.

My absolute favourite thing on the menu is a dish called ‘Eggs Rothko’. I’m not sure if it’s named after Mark Rothko, but it’s a whole lot tastier than his paintings (IMHO). At the heart of the dish is a kind of remix of eggy bread. A thick slice of toasted brioche with a hole cut in the middle is popped in a frying pan, and then an egg is fried in the hole. They then top the bread with a grated, tangy mature cheddar and slide it under a grill until the cheese bubbles. I know it sounds pretty insane, but when you slice open the bread and the yoke of the egg oozes out, you know you’re in the presence of breakfast greatness.

They serve it with your choice of meat or seasonal greens. I always opt for the sausage, which is a little different to the sausages you get with a fry up in the UK. They are basically little sausage meat patties which are flavoured with chili and fennel. Spicy and seriously tasty, and they work really well with the eggy bread.

I wish I was there now.

If you fancy something different try this avocado on toast. My missus introduced me to it, and now I love it too. No rocket science. It’s really quick and easy, and is also pretty healthy.

Ingredients

1/2 a ripe avocado

1 or 2 slices granary bread

Olive oil

Tobasco

Salt

Method

Pop the bread in the toaster. Take the half avocado and slice it length-ways into around half centimetre slices. As soon as the toast is out of the toaster, drizzle with olive oil and then arrange the avocado slices on it.

Use the back of a fork to mash the avocado down onto the toast, sprinkle with salt and a few drops of tobasco, then get it down your neck.

Going to Peter Luger’s pretty much as soon as I get off the plane in in NY has become a bit of a tradition. The routine goes. Land in NY. Head to Williamburgh. Dump bags at my mate Matt’s place. Head to Luger’s with him. Eat large quantities of meat. Drink a couple of beers. Sleep. Come round smiling the next day.

Peter Luger has been rated New York’s number one steakhouse for twenty four years in a row. For a town that prides itself on good food, that’s a serious accolade. They have two outlets, one in Williamburgh and one in Long Island, but it’s no chain; it’s an institution.

When I went a few years ago, former New York City mayor Rudy Guilliani walked in with some dolly bird and got a standing ovation from the whole restaurant, and that sets the scene pretty well. It’s a place for ’stand up guys’. A no nonsense temple to meat, styled a bit like a Bavarian beer hall, and staffed by old timers who have clearly been working there for years.

The menu is short, and not surprisingly, meat focused. To start with, we ordered an extra thick slice of Luger’s bacon and a tomato and onion salad, followed by the porterhouse steak, German fried potatoes and spinach.

The bacon is really satisfying. About the thickness of four standard rashers, sweet and smokey. The perfect accompaniment to the salad, especially when drizzled liberally with Luger’s own sweet, tangy and mildly spicy steak sauce.

The main event is the steak. The cut they specialise in is the porterhouse, or short loin. Served on the bone, it’s charred and crispy on the outside, and sweet and moist on the inside. The meat has great flavour, and is as tender as something very tender indeed. They serve it of a red hot plate, cut into strips, with melted butter to baste the meat with to keep it moist. It’s making my mouth water just thinking about it.

It’s not cheap, but its worth it. The portions are generous, and anything you don’t eat, you can take home in a doggy bag. If you’re planning a visit, I’d advise booking a table, and remember that they only accept cash, although there is an ATM outside.

The only downsides to Luger’s is that I only get to eat there once a year. But I guess that’s one of the other things that makes it special.

To cut a long story short, there’s a guy called Doug who makes the most amazing speciality hot dogs that come in a bewildering and surprising array of flavours. And when I say bewildering, I mean it. Pork, duck, lamb, beef, weisswurst, bratwurst, veal, rattlesnake, vegetarian…I could go on. Doug’s place is pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so if you’re an un-escorted newbie, you can pretty much forget about finding it (we were lucky enough to have a couple of willing guides). But, despite the location, the place is RAMMED every day. It’s open between 11am and 4pm, and there’s a queue pretty much from opening to closing.

Photo: MSN

When we got there at about a quarter to twelve, there were already a lot of people waiting. It took us about an hour to make it through the doors  and get a look at the wall mounted menu and specials, but when we did I nearly exploded with excitement. After much debate, my girlfriend and I decided to get 4 to share between us. We went for a duck and fois gras, a merguez and goats cheese, veal and pork weisswurst, and a classic Chicago dog (all pictured).

First up the duck. Now I was fully expecting this to be a gimmick, but I could’nt have been further from the mark. You could taste everything. The duck and fois gras in the sausage, the fois gras mousse on top, and the insane truffle and garlic mayo. Every bite was ridiculous. Too sickly to nail another, but amazing.

Next up the weisswurst. Again a taste sensation. The tangy apple and pork meat in the sausage was well seasoned and wrapped in this creamy mustard and parsley sauce. Then a nice bit of tangy, peppery horseradish cheese finished it off with style.

The traditional Chicago dog was probably the least impressive of the four, but still damn tasty. Your classic frank dog accompanied with fried onions, mustard, tomato, a slab of pickle and a kind of atomic green relish. When in Rome and all that.

Finally the merguez. One of my favourite sausages of all time. This baby came served up with a kind of smokey chipotle sauce that was a cross between a mayo and a gravy , and was topped with this amazingly fluffy and light goats cheese. Again you could taste all the flavours, and the cheese cooled down the chili kick of the sausage and sauce. Phenomenal.

It’s not hard to see why people get evangelical about Hot Doug’s. It’s one of those proper institutions that specialise in one thing, and nails it time after time. It’s also fun and completely unpretentious. In the UK a place like Doug’s would probably fall out of favour as soon as it ceased to be fashionable, which is a great shame as I feel England’s restaurant scene would be a lot richer if there were more of the local neighborhood heroes of the kind I’ve written about in the past few posts.

I’ve always liked the idea of starting a local sausage restaurant, maybe there’s a gap in the market?

Photo by Buzz100Ca

If you’re going on a road trip down the pacific coast through the Big Sur, there’s one place that everyone tells you to go, and that’s Nepenthe. In his 1962 book ‘Big Sur’, Jack Kerouac, describes the restaurant thus, “From the baths we go to Nepenthe which is a beautiful cliff top restaurant with a vast outdoor patio, with excellent food, excellent waiters and management, good drinks, chess tables, chairs and tables to just sit in the sun an look at the grand cost…”

Whilst Kerouac’s description is less than effusive, it is pretty much spot on; so allow me to add a few superlatives. The location is amazing, the view of the pacific ocean fantastic, and the food bloody tasty. We both ate the trademark Ambrosia burger, which as the name suggests (in the work of Homer, Ambrosia is the food of the gods), was pretty heavenly. The meat was clearly good quality, the bun toasted and beautifully soft, but what really set it off was the sauce – a kind of tomato, chili mayonaise. Served with a huge side of fries and a light slaw, it was a great lunch. But with a view like that, you can’t go that far wrong.

Photo by Meatmeister

It’s pretty rare that a restaurant lives up to the hype, but Nepenthe does, and not much seems to have changed since Kerouac wrote his description. It’s a simple formula, but one that works, and the owners have stuck to it.

You can get the recipe for the Ambrosia burger here, but I’m not sure it would taste quite so good without that view.

As mentioned in the last post, I’ve just returned from a holiday in the States. From a food perspective, one of the things that I noticed about a lot of the stuff we tasted in California was the Mexican influence. Plenty of lime, avocado, coriander, chilli and corn. Fresh, tasty flavours.

We also ate quite a bit of of straight up Mexican food. Great Burritos in the Mission in San Francisco, Huevos Rancheros for breakfast, torta Mexicanas in LA, but the pick of the bunch was a a tiny little place called La Super-Rica in Santa Barbra.

Reputedly Julia Child’s favourite Mexican restaurant and tucked away in the Mexican area of town, La Super-Rica is basically a little shack with a tent attached to the back. Always busy, the tiny kitchen knocks out fantastic traditional Mexican street food. There are daily specials, firm favourites and apparently the best horchata you’ll taste outside of Mexico.

We tried the daily special, a vegetarian tamale, which came served in the corn husk it had been steamed in with a side of pork and beans. The corn meal was really tasty and kind of creamy, enriched with a bit of cheese and with vegetables through it. We also had a portion of the most delicious buttery guacamole, and a couple of servings of chorizo tacos. Amazing.

It was also a really charming place. No frills and not in any way poncy, it’s location also means that you have to make a real effort to get there, so people really go for the food. And there was a proper cross section of them. From the WASPy Santa Barbra set to students, Mexican locals and hipsters. I’d go back at the drop of a hat.

Super-Rica? As Omar Little would say, indeed.

Anyway, breakfast fast became our favourite meal of the day, and right here are out top four breakfasts from the trip.

Huevos Rancheros – literally ‘eggs ranch style’. Mexican style eggs (in this case scrambled with ham) served up on flour tortillas smothered in spicy tomato sauce, topped with black beans and avocado, with a side of home fries. Ay carrumba

Huevos Rancheros at The Crepevine, San Francisco

Hash & Eggs – despite the name, probably the poshest breakfast of the trip, but totally amazing. Spring onion, bacon and potato hash topped with a couple of poached eggs. The breakfast of champions.

Hash & Eggs at Rose's Cafe, San Francisco

Granola Waffles – I’m not a massive fan of majorly sweet stuff for breakfast, but these were insane. They were part of the make your own breakfast buffet at the place we stayed at in The Big Sur. When making the waffles you toss in a handful of the home made granola. Proper ying and yang business.

Granola Waffles with Banana, Nectarine and Maple at Treebones, Big Sur

Cornbread Egg Muffin – I know this looks like some kind of Scotch Egg disaster (not that there’s anything wrong with a Scotch Egg), but these took us by surprise. A slightly sweetened corn bread muffin, a touch of chili and a boiled egg in the middle. Awesometown.

Cornbread & Egg Muffin at Sweetcakes, Chicago

I’m not sure why, but I was thinking about songs featuring food the other day. I was probably hungry. After a bit of brain wracking I came up with the following top 10.

Photo: Whipped Bakeshop

In no particular order:

1. AFX – Children Talking

Why do you hate mashed potatoes? A good slab of crazy from the Aphex Twin.

2. The JBs – Pass The Peas

Classic funk from the Godfather of soul’s backing band.

3. Harry McLintock – Big Rock Candy Mountain

My mate Matt who lives in New York introduced me to this. Also on the ‘Brother Where Art Thou’ soundtrack.

4. Mongo Santamaria – Watermelon Man

There are lots of versions of this track, but this is one of my favourites, and with a name like Mongo you can’t loose.

5. Link Wray – Beans & Fatback

First heard Link Wray’s stuff on an Andy Weatherall rockabilly mix. No idea what it’s got to do with pork fat and beans, but its a tune.

6. The Beastie Boys – Egg Man

Curtis Mayfield sampling gem from Paul’s Boutique.

7. Led Zeppelin – The Lemon Song

Citrus sauce from Led zep II.

8. ZZ Top – TV Dinners

A song about being addicted to TV dinners. An 80s oddity from the much underrated Top.

9. Booker T & The MGs – Green Onions

A funk standard from 1964. Classic.

10. Weird Al Yancovic – Eat It

The most food filled song I know, and a tribute to the late MJ. A fitting end to the list.