I saw this video about New York based Mast Brothers Chocolate about a year or so ago, and have desperately wanted to visit their shop ever since. As someone who’s interested in starting their own business, I found the approach they discuss really inspirational. I love the romantic idealism of treating their business like a boys own adventure, and striving for something that feels nostalgic and hand made, as opposed to mass produced and uniform.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon I managed to satisfy my desire by paying their Williamsburgh shop a visit. I was hoping to take the factory tour they mention on the site, but alas they aren’t doing them at the moment as they are in the process of expanding their operation. However, when the lovely guy behind the counter saw we were a bit bummed out about not getting to do the tour, he snuck us in to have a look at their new space. It’s a really lovely big, open brick walled warehouse unit, but what hits you first is the smell. It’s like being in a chocolate cloud. I’m pretty sure I started to drool almost instantly. The room is filled will sacks of cocoa beans, a roasting oven, ‘conching’ drums (these heat and grind the beans for 3 days until the chocolate is beautifully smooth), and this awesome mad scientist-esque glass vacuum pump device that separates the cracked beans from the husk. It’s very cool, and feels really nicely old fashioned.

Obviously you can’t visit a place like this without sampling the goods, but as well as trying their small range of bars, we also got to sample a few of their new products including an amazing chocolate pecan cookie, a couple of different types of caramel, and the craziest brownie I’ve ever tasted. It’s consistency was like a ripe soft cheese, and equally as pungent in a chocolatey kind of way. Pretty incredible. When the guy who gave us the tour hear we were from the UK he told us that they are just about to export a shed load of chocolate to Paul A Young for him to make truffles with, which will give those who don’t know Mast Bothers an indication of the quality of their product and their standing within the chocolate community.

But by far the coolest thing that Mast Brothers is doing (which they allude to in the video) is taking their romanticism to the next level by actually sailing their cocoa beans over from their suppliers. The maiden voyage of The Black Seal, a 70-foot cargo ship that they had converted into a three mast shipping schooner, docked in New York a couple of months ago after two weeks on The Atlantic bringing with it 20 or so tonnes of cocoa beans from the Dominican Republic. Amazing. And they are already planning subsequent voyages in the near future.

Maybe I’ve been in the US too long or I’m getting cheesy in my old age, but I’m going to end this post on a Mark Twain quote that I’m sure Mast Brothers are familiar with and I’ll be taking as words of encouragement as I endeavor to set up my own business in the future:

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

I unbelievably forgot my camera when we went to the shop, so…chocolate photo courtesy of mastbrothers.com and magazine spread is a photo story on the Mast Brothers that appears in this month’s edition of Edible Brooklyn.

From Nashville we headed for the ‘Low Country’, with a quick overnight pit stop in Atlanta to break up the journey to Savannah. In the short time we were there, we didn’t get much of an impression of Georgia’s capital, but it seems like a modern city that’s expanding pretty fast.

One thing we did get to check out was Varsity, which is (apparently) America’s largest drive in. I was pretty excited about visiting as it’s one of those old school places where they have people bring out your food and do the whole tray on the window thing. Unfortunately we were disappointed. Definitely go and check it out for the spectacle and atmosphere, but don’t go for the food. It was average at best. The burgers were no better than a basic McDonald’s hamburger, the fries were limp, and god alone knows what was on in the chilli on my chilli dog, but I’m not sure it was of this World. Bit of a shame really, because it’s a pretty cool set up.

After a 5-hour drive South East of Atlanta we hit Savannah, which was the first purpose built town in the US and is home to the US’s answer to Delia, Paula Deen. It’s a really pretty place, but as we arrived the heavens opened and it didn’t really stop raining for the 48 hours we were there. Yep, we managed to time our visit perfectly with the Low Country’s storm season. This being the case, we didn’t really feel like killing ourselves to get out there and sniff out Savannah’s more interesting food spots, so I don’t have that much to report, but we did have some really good Italian comfort food at a place called Leoci’s. Great prosciutto, mozzarella and lovely pasta. Just the thing when the hurricane nights draw in.

We were worried that we’d encounter similar conditions two hours up the coast in Charleston, but when we arrived it seemed like the clouds and winds had shot their load, and it was pretty pleasant, in a hot and sticky kind of way. Charleston is where the American Civil War started, so it’s steeped in history. But it’s also steeped in shrimp and grits. I’d got a small taster of this Low Land’s classic in New Orleans, but I had to get stuck into the real McCoy whilst we were here, and I got my fix at a great little place called Hominy Grill. For the uninitiated, grits are a America’s answer to polenta, but is usually white instead of yellow, and generally coaser ground. The grits I had at Hominy were creamy, slightly cheesy, with a tang of Tabasco and lemon,  and served with lovely juicy shrimp, bacon and mushrooms. Serious comfort food. We also tried their fried green tomatoes, another local favourite, she-crab soup, and every Charlestonian’s beer snack of choice, boiled peanuts. Really good stuff.

Whilst we were in town, someone also recommend that we check out a cafe called Dixie, a no frills kind of place known for it’s tomato pie. When we showed up for a late lunch, they were closing up the kitchen, but typical of pretty much all the Southerners we met, the lady and chef who ran the place were very accommodating and let us sit down for a slice before they finished for the day. Made with a beautifully tender dough, and layered with heirloom tomatoes, cheese and basil, it was a really satisfying lunch, especially when served with a nice hunk of sweet potato corn bread. I’ve got to say that it wouldn’t win many awards for it’s looks, but it delivered where it counts. Hmmmmm.

Of course, one of these posts wouldn’t be complete without a mildly terrifying fried chicken experience, and Charleston managed to deliver one of these too, in the shape of Hannibal’s Kitchen. Another little shack, in the rougher North East of the city, we yet again got to sample one of Southern cuisines most famous exports. The chicken was probably the mildest we tasted. Really balanced seasoning, with a small hint of spice, not too dissimilar from the Colonel’s Original Recipe. Fried fresh (we had to wait 20 minutes) and served with sides of corn and collard greens, it was yet another quality feed in less than salubrious setting, even if my greens did come with an unexpected addition of an unidentifiable pig part. If you look closely at the picture below you can see something pink poking out. For a moment I thought it was someone’s thumb, but it was definitely hog based, but no idea from where on the animal. Answers on a postcard please.

So that was the Low Country. I’m writing this from a VERY cramped sleeper berth on the ‘Silver Meteor’ train to New York, New York, our final destination. It’s going to be bitter sweet.

We’re ‘enjoying’ some the South-East coast’s famous storm season weather, so you’re going to get to read another post.

From LA we flew to New Orleans. After seeing all the news about Katrina and subsequent storms and floods, I really didn’t know what to expect, but I’ve got to say we were really impressed. Aside from Bourbon Street which is a bit of an abomination, it’s really cool and interesting place, that literally sweats music and good times from ever pore. We arrived with a fist full of recommendations of places to go from my mate Graison who I met on the  SFBI course and who used to live there, so we set about munching our way through town.

We had three really memorable meals in ‘The Big Easy’. The first was at Dante’s Kitchen. It kicked off in style with some stellar ’spoon’ bread, which is a kind of corn bread, and was absolutely delicious. So much so that I had to know what was in it, and the chefs kindly printed me out a recipe. This was followed by fantastic shrimp and grits and then ox tail. Small dishes, really nicely done. I’d go back in a shot.

The second was at Willie Mae’s Scotch House, which is famous for it’s fried chicken. Very famous. In fact some argue that it’s the best in the US, which may or may not be backed up by the James Beard ‘American Classic’ award they won in 2005. Whatever the case, Willie Mae’s is a tiny white shack in a slightly dodgy part of town (our cabbie warned us not to wonder around too much) but it left a big impression. The chicken isn’t traditional Southern style, it’s coated in a spicy batter (lots of salt and black pepper), not too dissimilar to chippie batter back home. Crispy, salty, spicy, moist and tasty as hell. The green beans side I had was pretty awesome too, but you really go for the chicken. Well worth running the gauntlet for.

The third was totally unexpected. We’d been out for a typically light dinner, and headed to a bar called The Maple Leaf to see some live music. When we arrived, the guy on the door told us entry was $10 which included the band and a ’shrimp boil’. We didn’t really know what he was on about, so paid the fee and sat down for a couple of beers.

After an hour or so, we were told that dinner was served and were led through to a room at the centre of which was a 20 ft table literally covered in a mixture of boiled shrimp, local andouille sausage, pork steak, corn and potatoes. Seconds later we were chowing down with 50 people we’d never met before chewing the fat and piles of shrimp, sausage and other assorted delights. It was lip tinglingly spicy from pepper and paprika, salty, smokey and really deeply flavoured. At one point, someone else produced a tray of stewed turkey necks, which I’d never tried before. They were sticky, sweet and gamey. A bit like mini ox tails, and maybe even more tasty. The whole evening was a totally brilliant experience. We felt like we were on an episode of No Reservations.

From New Orleans we got back behind the wheel and headed for Memphis, Tennessee. The birth place of Rock & Roll, realm of The King, and home to some pretty fine ribs too. Gracelands was pretty much exactly what you’d expect, and totally worth the visit. It also gave us the chance to sample one of Elvis’ favourite snacks, the fried  peanut butter and banana sandwich. It wasn’t bad, but on more substantial bread and with a rasher or two of candied bacon, it would have been better. Now, back to those ribs. Whilst we were in New Orleans, on two separate occasions, we were told that we HAD to check out the ribs Rendezvous. So we did. They specialise in dry rub baby back ribs, which I’ll take every time over the wet ones (too sweet and vinegary for my palette), and they didn’t disappoint. Succulent, juicy, and beautifully smoky. I find the strong flavours of US barbecue often mask the taste of the meat, but you could definitely taste these bad boys came from a pig. I could have easily eaten another rack. Turns out Rendezvous’ ribs are also a favourite of Bill Clinton and Barry Obama, and if they’re good enough for them…

The last stop on this part of the tour was Nashville, and I’ve got to say. Did. Not. Get. It. I was expecting (maybe foolishly) that it would be like a bigger Memphis, but that wasn’t really the case. It was more like LA. Really spread out, and fragmented into lots of little insubstantial feeling ‘hoods. But I’m pleased to say there was some good eating to be found. We discovered a really great modern Italian place called City House. Awesome pizza and great starters like octopus with butter beans and breadcrumbs. Super tasty. And it also afforded us another slightly dodgy fried chicken experience at Prince’s Hot Chicken. A good 10-15 minute drive from the centre of Nashville in a rather sketchy part of town lies a tiny kitchen and dining room that, like Willie Mae’s, has a big reputation. The chicken is more traditionally fried at Prince’s, but the key ingredient here is cayenne, and it’s available in Mild, Medium, Hot and Extra Hot. I opted for the medium, and I can’t for the life of me imagine the inferno that the Extra Hot creates because mine was pretty damn spicy, but it was good. Crispy and moist in all the right places, with a really good heat and served with a much needed cup of cooling slaw, some pickles and a couple of slices of dirty white bread to mop up the juices. The fried chicken of my dreams.

That’s it for now. Next stop Atlanta, Savannah and Charleston. See you soon.

So we are exactly a week into our road trip across the ‘States, and so far, so amazing.

From San Fran we drove to Yosemite which is just incredible. I visited the valley before with my folks as a young child, but I didn’t remember much of it. Probably too young to appreciate it, but it’s a jaw dropping place. Everywhere you look, there are unbelievable postcard views. It really is the big country. Food wise we had to pretty much fend for ourselves, firing up the barbie or gas stove at our camp and packing lunches, which was all good ‘back to nature’ stuff.

Next into Death Valley. Everyone had told us stuff like ‘…it’s just a long road…” or “…there’s not much there…”, so we were unprepared for how beautiful it is. That’s beautiful in a kind of brutal way. En route we stopped by Schat’s bakery cafe in Bishop and gorged on his famous sandwiches. The turkey club was the bomb. We stayed in the heart of the valley in a little settlement called Stovepipe Wells, which felt a bit like a theme village you might get at an amusement park. It was as hot as Hades, and the food wasn’t up to much, but the setting was incredible and they had a pool. Nuff said.

We then drove to Las Vegas. What a contrast. From the serenity and peace of Yosemite and Death Valley into the belly of the beast. I think we knew what to expect from Vegas, but weren’t really prepared for how we’d react to it. In short, we didn’t really get it. The novelty of the tacky glitz and glamour wore off pretty quickly, and it just began to feel a bit empty. We tried our best on the food front, but failed to find anywhere with much soul. Vegas has some World class ‘dining experiences’ from the likes of Alain Ducasse and Wolfgang Puck, but fine dining ain’t really our thing, and and all the restaurants seemed a bit personality less, which is a shame. However, there was one highlight we uncovered in the Venetian hotel. The Reuben Sandwich at Tower’s Deli. A seriously delicious oasis in a culinary desert. We could have been in Katz’s.

From Vegas we drove to Venice Beach, LA for a night. It felt good to be back in California, and the beach, skaters and sunset made in a pretty cool place to hang out for an evening. Not much to report from a food point of view. We wanted to eat at this place called Gjelina which did look seriously amazing, but my hangover, the long drive from Vegas and over an hours wait for a table wore me down, so we decided to get some take-out and retire to our hotel room.

Our next leg is going to take in New Orleans, Memphis and Nashville. See you soon.

I’m writing this post with a very heavy heart as tomorrow we leave San Francisco.

The five or so months that we’ve spent here have been so amazing, and the missus and I have totally fallen in love with the city. The hills, the fog, the history, the food, the people, the atmosphere all combine to make San Francisco a totally unique place. Having visited before for a short time as a tourist, I think I was a bit worried about being bored, but far from it. There may not be a huge quantity of ‘must do’ sights, but it has to be one of the best cities in the world for just hanging out and chilling. No wonder the hippies loved it here!

So yeah, we’re basically totally gutted to be leaving, and if things were different with visas etc, I think we would have stayed for a couple of years. But we can’t. C’est la vie. It’s not all doom and gloom though, as we’re heading on an awesome road trip that will take us across country to New York before we head back to London in late October.

So before we bid San Francisco a very fond farewell, I thought I’d give you my top 10 culinary highlights.

1. Mission Chinese Food – I’m pretty sure you’re all sick of me talking about MCF by now, but humour me. I love everything about this place. The food, the venue, the buzz. It’s been wining every time we’ve been there. Wonder if they’d deliver to London.

2. The Burger at Citizen’s Band – The best I tasted in San Fran. There’s something that really works about the combination of the Kobe beef patty, caramelised onions and challah bun. Killer.

3. Outerlands – We only went a couple of times, but this it’s such a cool place in a really interesting part of town. Fantastic bread descended from Tartine’s original recipe, great soups and sarnies, lovely atmosphere.

4. The Bread at Tartine – Three words. Believe. The. Hype. It really is great stuff, and it was an absolute pleasure to spend a few days behind the scenes with the team there. Great product, great cafe, great people.

5. BiRite Market – San Fran’s finest indie supermarket. It ain’t cheap, but it is f**king amazing. Such great produce, and their Brown Sugar ice cream is the bomb.

6. The Sandwiches at Rhea’s deli – Possibly the best sandwiches I’ve ever tasted. Both me and the Missus have felt high after eating The Delores. Maybe there’s something in the mayo.

7. The Swan Oyster Bar – A slice of San Francisco’s culinary history, and an old school classic. Great fresh fish, smoked fish, white wine and banter. Love. This. Place

8. The Temple O’ Spuds at Boogaloos – The true breakfast of champions, especially when topped with a poached egg and served with a side of bacon or sausage and lots of hot sauce. Goodbye hangover. Hello late morning snooze.

9. The Carnitas at Taqueria Cancun – I don’t know how they cook that pork, but it’s magic. Have it in tacos, tortas or burritos, but make sure you have it. Just delicious.

10. Last but not least, The SFBI - I’ve said it all already, it was such a a great and tasty experience. I’m still getting used to not going to school every day. I feel like there’s a quite a large hole in my life, but looking forward to filling it when I get back home and (hopefully) start a new career.

Notable mentions should also go to Delfina Pizza (awesome starters and ‘pies’), the Farmers Markets (’real’ people shop there, not just the wealthy) and Chairman Bao (amazing bun based street food).

So that’s it. Goodbye for now San Francisco. I sincerely hope I’ll be back soon. Very soon.

Every now and again, you get a really good feeling about a restaurant just by walking past it. In our first week in San Francisco, we walked past The Swan Oyster Depot on our way home after a boozy night out. Even through our alcoholic haze we could tell we were going to like it. It had this really lovely old-school feel to it, so the next day we decided to give it a go. As you can probably conclude from this post, we weren’t disappointed, and we’ve been back a few times since.

But before we get down to the nitty gritty, a short history lesson. The Swan has been around since around 1912, and by the look of the place not much has changed since. The original oyster bar was bought out by a guy called Sal Sancimino and his three cousins (Al, Pat and Frank LaRocca) in 1946, and in turn their kids took it over in the ’70’s, and it not surprisingly has a really friendly, authentic family feel to it.

It’s a ‘hole in the wall’ style place, with a long marble bar, original tiles, wood paneling etc and it only sits around 20 people at a time. So if you’re going to pay it a visit, prepare yourself for a wait. Possibly quite a long one. But don’t let this put you off, you can have a drink in the queue, and with a bit of banter from the owners, the time passes pretty quickly. And once you’re sat down eating, all is forgotten.

Now the fact that they serve oysters, and they’re good, local and fresh is kind of a given. So I’m not going to waste time talking about them. But what I will tell you about is their famous Boston style Clam Chowder. Less creamy and heavy than others we’ve tasted (we’re guessing the use milk instead of cream), powered by a really good stock and chock full of clams. The only thing that improves it is a few drops of Tabasco. Winning.

On our last visit we also had the most amazing plate of the Swan’s take on Sashimi. Absolutely beautiful hand cut slices of salmon, scallops, albacore and red tuna, all drizzled with olive oil, capers, shallots, and a little bit of salt and pepper. So delicate and fresh. Bloody delicious.

Once you’ve got the taste for it, it’s kind of hard to stop so we also ordered a plate of their smoked salmon and trout. The salmon came just as I like it, mounted on some buttered brown bread with a bit of black pepper and a couple of generous lemon wedges. The Yanks definitely go in for a heavier smoke than the Scottish style that I’m used to, but it makes a nice change, and if I’ve got a plate of smoked fish in front of me, I’m usually pretty happy. Which brings me to the smoked trout. Served as a fillet with a bit of shredded iceberg and some prawns, a fitting end to our meal, and all washed down with the house ice cold Sauvignon Blanc (I’m not sure what it is is).

The only real downsides of The Swan Oyster Bar are the queue (or ‘line’ as they’d say over here), and the fact that it’s a bit expensive. But for the heritage, atmosphere, banter and the fresh as you like seafood, I’m more than happy to overlook these things.

I hope that it’s still going in another 100 years and being run by the next generation of LaRoccas and Sanciminios.

So that’s it. It’s over. 4 and a half months, 18 weeks, 90 days, 720 hours, 43,200 minutes of hardcore baking action. We graduated from the SFBI Professional Bread & Pastry Programme last Friday, and I’ve go to say it was a bitter sweet occasion.

In the week running up to the graduation, as a group we made over 160 products, and most of them in multiple numbers. We were split into four groups as usual, with two groups concentrating more on bread and the other two predominantly on cakes and pastry. It was a full on week of late nights, early mornings, little sleep and lots of coffee. We all started on pastry, prepping stuff to be frozen and items with good shelf life, and the production schedule steadily ramped up over the week to fever pitch, particularly on Thursday and Friday for us bread people. It was full on, but hugely enjoyable. I have to admit, I felt pretty emotional as I scored the very last loaf that went into the oven.

The graduation ceremony itself was a fitting end, with a great turnout. Michel gave a fantastic speech, after which we each had to talk about our favourite product from the 18 weeks. I managed to forget why I’d chosen mine (I blame lack of sleep and having to stand near those bloody ovens), but think I pulled it back in the end. We were then treated to a bit of a skit / awards ceremony that two of my fellow students, Anthea and Justin, had put together. Each classmate was given a ‘Golden Baguette’ award, of which I received ‘Most Likely TV Chef’, which was flattering…I think. We then feasted on all that we’d made, as well as fresh pizzas from the wood fired oven, and a well earned drink or three.

Overall the course was a fantastic experience. It was pretty much everything I hoped it would be, and more. I’ve learned so much, and genuinely feel prepared and ready (or as ready as I’ll ever be) to take what I’ve learned to the next level. I’ve got to say a final big thanks to everyone at the school, but in particular Frank, Mac, Juliette and Le Grande Fromage himself, Michel. They run a pretty unique programme at The SFBI, and it’s been a great privilege to have spent the last few months in their company.

I’ve also made some great new friends from all four corners of the globe. I’ve got high hopes for each of them, and hope that they go on to do great things, and realise their hopes and dreams. Christ, I sound almost American! It must be time for me to come home.

So on that subject, what’s next? Seems odd that a few months ago, I thought that quitting my job and actually getting out here was the tough part, but I guess it’s the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got a couple of weeks work experience at Tartine before we leave, which is great, but when I get back to the UK at the end of October I’ll be looking for work. So if there are any bakers who need an extra pair of hands, or anyone who wants to help me fulfill my Golden Baguette award, you know where to find me.

If you want to see more pictures from the graduation week, click here.

Apologies for the radio silence. It’s almost been a week since I finished the course at the SFBI, and I’ve been enjoying a few well earned days off. I’ve got a bunch more posts in the bank to write, so if I can pull my finger out, I’ll get to these very soon. AND I’ve also got exciting news about some work experience that I’ve hopefully lined up here for the next couple of weeks.

But back to this week. It was something lurking in my in my in-box on Wednesday that has tempted me back to Wordpress, and that was the launch of the new Big Apple Hot Dogs site. I mentioned it briefly in this post, but I worked with the very talented chaps over at Nation on the site before I left for California.

I helped out with some thoughts on the design direction and food branding in general, and wrote the copy, and it’s great to see it all come to life, in particular the dog-sliding-into-bun animation (parallax scrolling, bitchez). Sweeeeeet!

If you’re ever in the vicinity of Old Street, and you want to treat your taste buds to something a little bit special, you really should go and pay BAHD a visit. Abiye, the guys who runs it, is not not only a thoroughly nice bloke, but he’s got the skills to pay the bills in a quality line-up of meaty treats developed with his secret weapon ‘The Sausage-Meister’, a butcher operating out of an equally secret location in London. I’ve also got love for the man because, like me, he used to have a desk job working for a big corporation, and decided that there was more to life, and Big Apple Hot Dogs is the result.

Anyways, go and have a look at the site and then go buy a dog. It’s that simple.

A real mixed bag last week at SFBI. Monday & Tuesday were dedicated to making all kinds of Petit Fours, Wednesday & Thursday we were set a two day practical, revisiting the pastry section of the course, and then on Friday we rounded off the week with a tour of the great and the good of the Bay Area’s bakeries. Tell Tale, ACME, La Farine, Semifreddi’s and Firebrand.

So, rewind selectah to the beginning of last week. A big part of Petit Fours is chocolate based, from mendiants and molded chocolates to truffles, you need a lot of the stuff, and being more accustomed to eating it than making it, I wasn’t really aware of one of the key skills of the master chocalatier, tempering. I’ve got to to tell you, it’s a tricky business.

If chocolate isn’t tempered properly it lacks gloss and sheen, and doesn’t set properly, so it’s more prone to melting. For properly tempered chocolate, you need your choc to have a concentration of the right kind of crystals (I’m not going to get into the science, so you’ll just have to trust me), and this is achieved through the combination of time, agitation and temperature. Whilst tabling is a valid method, for us this equated to A LOT of stirring. And don’t I know it. My right arm is still aching, and not from self abuse for once! I think I’ve contracted Tempeperer’s Elbow. But once you’ve got your chocolate right, you can create some pretty tasty morsels, as you can see. But it wasn’t all chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. We also made caramels, more macaroons, a rather unsuccessful peanut brittle, marshmallows, and some mouth-wateringly delicious passion fruit pâtes de fruits. Diabetes alert!

As mentioned above, we then had a two day practical. We revisited a lot of good stuff from the not too distant past to make sure that we’d grasped the main concepts, and again we were able to run our own schedule for a couple of days, which was cool. Our team was a pretty well oiled machine, but it was a hectic two days. Amongst other things we made choux, including a re-appearance of the Paris Brest which I was happy about, pies, tarts, puff pastry creations like the Pethivier, cookies, scones, muffins and so on. All in all, I was really pleased with how we did. The guys at Lost Weekend Video seemed to approve of the haul which we exchanged for Step Brothers (terrible film, don’t bother), and my pie got the thumbs up from my buddy Matt, who is a total pie addict.

Then on Friday, we had what can only be described as a dysfunctional, but very enlightening school field trip to visit a bunch of bakeries. I found it a really inspiring and eye opening trip, and whilst I’m not going to go into too much detail, I thought I’d mention the things that I liked about each of them.

Our first stop of the day was Tell Tale. They are a relatively new outfit, with mostly wholesale accounts. The space that they’ve set up is pretty incredible. Lots of space, great machinery, and from what we tasted, great products. Their croissant and financiers were the bomb. They also have really good branding, which was good to see.

Next up, we went to ACME. We were really privileged to be given the tour of one of their facilities by one of the founders, Steve Sullivan. He talked a bit about he got the baking bug, and how his business grew from it’s humble beginnings to the baking tour de force it is today. Really cool guy.

Next we went over to La Farine, a more customer centric operation with four outlets in the Berkley area. We met with the operations manager, Stan Dodson, at the Fruitvale location and what impressed me about La Farine was how they produced so much bread from such a small kitchen, and how involved they are in the community. It really is a customer business, and thats what makes them tick.

Our next stop was Semifreddi’s. Again like ACME, they have come from humble beginnings, but they recently moved to a new facility which is like a spaceship. A huge space, very clean, and runs like clockwork with a combination of automation and craftsmanship. The majority of their bread is still shaped by hand, but they have a bunch of labour saving devices that keeps them running a smoother, and from what we could see, a more pleasant operation for their staff.

Our final stop was Firebrand, a small wood fired bakery in deepest, darkest Oakland. It became pretty clear that the life of the wood fired baker is a hard one, and to a great extent it’s a lifestyle choice. Despite the style of baking not really floating my boat (I’m far too lazy), I was really encouraged by the fact that they have succeeded in making a business out of it, and that they had done so with such a small range of equipment and resources. Good on them.

So all in all, a varied and interesting week. Next week is plated deserts, before we batten down the hatches for the final week of hard core production in time for graduation.

For those of you that read this blog regularly, or follow on twitter, you’ll know that Hand To Mouth has a BIG restaurant crush on Mission Chinese Food. So when we saw that the guys behind it had written a sort of cookery book and were having a ‘food and chat’ style book launch, we were all over it like a rash. So much so that we bought tickets #1 and #2.

The book, Mission Street Food, is the brainchild of Anthony Myint and his wife Karen Leibowitz, who despite their tender years and relative inexperience, have already left a pretty sizeable legacy on San Francisco’s culinary map due to their DIY approach to the restaurant trade. As a couple who are also thinking of opening a food-based business, we were as keen as mustard to hear them speak about their experience, and basically get inspired.

Their story begins in late 2008 when Myint (previously a consultant who re-trained as a chef) was working as a line cook at Bar Tartine, the restaurant arm of SF’s famous bread emporium, and was looking for a more creative outlet in his down time. So he sub-let a Guatemalan taco truck on Thursday evenings and launched Mission Street Food, slinging phenomenal sounding gourmet sandwiches to a hungry and ever growing crowd of San Francisco foodies. Pork belly and jalapeño (PB & J), Pigs trotter and cornichon, 40 clove chicken, fried catfish and kimchi are among some of the sarnies listed in the book (I’m gutted I wasn’t around to sample them) and before long MSF had become as hot as Hades and demand was outstripping resource.

So Mission Street Food ditched the truck, and moved in to a rather scabby looking Chinese Restaurant in the Mission district called Lung Shan. The deal that Myint and Leibowitzt struck up with the restaurant owners was that they’d take over their dining room on Thursday and Saturday evenings, sharing the kitchen with the restaurants existing chefs who would still be knocking up take-away for deliveries. A pretty improbable arrangement, but it seemed to work. With an already strong social media fueled fan base, they were packed from the first night they opened, and despite what they described as a pretty shambolic opening, they served more food to more people than they ever could with the truck.

Over the next few months, MSF went from strength to strength, but it also continued to evolve. Myint was still working at Bar Tartine, and Leibowitz as a lecturer at Berkley University, which made planning, preparing and cooking for their weekly extravaganzas challenging to say the least. So they threw ‘their’ kitchen doors open to other chefs, inviting them to contribute to the weekly menus, whilst taking a bit of pressure off.

As a couple who seem to have a constant desire to innovate, Mission Street Food was never going to be a permanent fixture, and in June of 2010 it served it’s final meal. But it wasn’t game over for Lung Shan as Myint handed over the reigns of the dining room to friend and co-conspirator Danny Bowien and Mission Street Food became Mission Chinese Food. Since then the couple have been busy consulting, opening other restaurants (Commonwealth) and pop ups (the now closed Mission Burger), developing links with food based charities and writing a book. Slackers they are not.

As we hoped, hearing their story was really inspirational. I’m not sure what the other people at the event took away, but our feeling was that, talent aside, their success is due in great part to a few key factors. Neither Myint or Leibowitz had that much experience, but they had (and still have) a desire to do something different, and they went for it. Secondly, they were flexible in realising their goals. Without this flexibility, they probably would have run themselves into the ground, but they saw the benefit of switching things up, working out deals, finding collaborators and so on. Our third observation was that San Francisco played quite a big part. It’s a city that LOVES food and supports this kind of ‘can do’ attitude, and not just on a faddish level. I wish I could say the same of London. Finally, we were impressed with the idea of the democratisation of fine dining. As I’ve mentioned many times before, I’m no fan of fine dining. The snobbery, fussyness and atmosphere of fine dining restaurants don’t sit well with me, but part of Myint and Leibowitz’s mission was to apply the classical techniques and traditions of such places to food that is more accessible to the general populous. Smart thinking both from a point of view of keeping costs down, but also in terms of keeping their army of fans happy.

Speaking of being kept happy, over the course of the evening we were also served a very tasty three course meal by Myint. We started with a beef carpaccio, featuring very thinly sliced beautifully seared rib eye steak (cut against the grain – a technique he elaborates on in the book), a mozarella mousse dispensed from a C02 charged siphon (natch), a very tasty relish of olive, caper, pistachio, parsley, shallot, lemon juice and olive oil, and some insanely spicy crisps. A slightly odd combination, but it all worked well together.

The main course was a chicken Caesar salad, which was pretty traditional, but had some nice little touches. The chicken was ‘confited’ in chicken fat, before being grilled, and was served with some chicken skin crisps (if only Walkers would make these). There were also a few slices of avacado, a couple of boquerones and a generous shaving of Parmesan.

The meal was rounded off with a dish created for one of MSF’s theme evenings, Breakfast For Dinner, their take on Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Made with a doorstep slice of ACME’s pain de mie spread both sides with butter, and then dredged with sugar and cinnamon before being brûléed with a blow-torch and floated in a pool of condensed and regular milk. Sounds odd. Tasted great.

So, a great evening with plenty of food for both body and mind. Towards the end of the evening, were lucky to have the opportunity to have a good chat with Leibowitz as she helped her hubby dish up the desert, getting more on her perspectives on starting a business amongst other things. But I’ve written far too much already, so this may have to wait for another time.

Week 15. More cake. But as the title of this post ‘hilariously’ suggests, we moved away from the predominantly flour based sponges and in to mousse cake territory.

Most of these cakes followed a similar format. Some kind of sponge base, ‘inserts’ made either from more sponge or set crème anglaise based layers flavoured with anything from lemon and raspberry to mint, surrounded with some kind of mousse set with gelatin. These cakes get finished with different techniques. Glazes, cake walls, ‘pate decor’, we even got to get the chocolate spray-gun out.

Here are a few examples (for some reason I didn’t get as many pics as usual):

Fresh Fruit Charlotte: Lady finger base and walls, separate lemon and berry inserts, diplomat cream, all topped with fresh fruit. One of my favourites of the week.

Lemon & Blackberry Mousse Cake: Full on presentation on this one. Dacquase sponge base, blackberry insert, lemon mousse, a cake wall of biscuit jaonde decorated with pate decor, finished with a marbled neutral glaze. Pheeeww.

White Chocolate, Pistachio and Raspberry Mousse Cake: Pistachio and raspberry sponge base, raspberry insert, white chocolate mousse, finished with a half scollop motif, tinted white chocolate spray, and white macarons, which we started making this week, but will do more of next.

Vanilla Bavarian: Muscavado sugar sable Breton base, vanilla sponge insert, vanilla mousse all coated in white chocolate, again applied with the spray gun, and again tinted.

I’m going to be honest, the majority of the cakes left me a bit cold. Don’t get me wrong, the ingredients are all great (cream, sugar, fruit, booze, cake – whats not to like?), but I think I’m basically not that fond of the texture that the gelatin. Also, and this may not make much sense as all the individual elements have to be made, but for me these cakes felt like they were more assembly jobs than anything.

They are also not really my bag aesthetically. Making them was fun, and it was definitely good to learn some new techniques, but most of them look to me like they could be at home on the open seas on a cruise ship circa 1987, or in a slightly pretentious restaurant. I guess I just don’t find ‘modern’ presentation that appetising.

Next week, our penultimate week of study, covers macarons, chocolate, confectionery and petit fours followed by a two day practical and a bakery tour. It’s gonna be big.

Feels a bit odd writing about cake when there’s all this shit going down in London, so to that end I’m going to do what I promised in my last post. Be brief.

So another week, another cake mountain. The cakes last week were definitely more technical than the week before. We compared and contrasted the differences between fat based and egg based sponges, including Génoise and Chiffon, as well as making a bunch of different fillings and icings.

Here are a few highlights:

The Fraisier – a light vanilla sponge sandwiching fresh strawberries and mouselline, all topped off with a marzipan disc. Summer in cake form.

Black Forest Gateaux – a modern twist on the German classic. Kirsch spiked chocolate sponge sandwiching a filling of Chantilly and brandied cherries, covered in cherry cream. Das ist gut, ya!

Sachertorte – from Vienna with love. A dense chocolate and almond sponge, a bit of apricot jam, all smothered with a pretty thick layer of chocolate. Always served with a dollop of whipped cream.

Opera – my winner of the week. Thin, dense sponge soaked in sweetened coffee. Two layers of chocolate ganache, one of coffee buttercream, all topped off with a chocolate glaze. Moist, sophisticated and tres tasty.

The Concorde – alternating layers of chocolate meringue and chocolate ganache surrounded by and topped with ‘cigarettes’ of chocolate meringue. Richer than Donald Trump, but with better hair.

The final two days of the week we made wedding cakes. Yep, you heard me right. Wedding cakes. In fact we made two, one more traditional iced with buttercream, and the other we had more creative license.

Here are a few of the results. And yes that is a Pac Man cake. And yes it’s mine. More on this in another post.

So thats it for week 14. Next week we’re doing yet more cakes, and moving into chocolate and confectionery. Until then, I hope all you Londoners are well. Don’t let the buggers get you down.

We’ve got a busy month ahead with family and friends visiting SF, and I’m already behind with my posts. This may not end well. Thinking I’m going to try and make the next couple as brief as possible so I can catch up. More photos, less words. Capisce?

So the week before last was week 13. Unlucky for some, but not for us, as this was the week we started to make cake, and as always, lots of it.

The week started off in a not entirely cakey way with baking a bunch of scones. Being the cosseted Englishman that I am, I didn’t realise how popular these tea-time treats are with the rest of the world. The Yanks and the Aussies in particular seem to love them. But unfortunately no jam or clotted cream was harmed in the making of these recipes, as they tend to be filled with dried fruit and nuts over here, and eaten dry. Also, the scones over here are almost universally triangular shaped, as they are cut from a circular slabs. The heathens! We made them in two ways (butter and cream based formulas) and in a whole range of flavours, including walnut and apricot, lemon and poppy seed, white chocolate and cranberry, currant and so on.

We then moved on to what are known over here as ‘quick breads’. Simple cakes of the kind you’d cook in a loaf tin. We made banana bread, pumpkin bread, marble cake, cake aux fruits (or fruit cake to you and me), and pound cake. I like a good banana bread, but most of them seemed a bit bland to me. My favourite was probably the pound cake, baked in a bundt pan with a simple lemon icing. It could definitely use more lemony zing taking a few lessons from my Mum’s lemon drizzle cake, but it’s a cake with some potential for sure.

‘Coffee Cakes’ came next, which are not to be confused with a coffee flavoured cakes. Believe you me, this stumped me for a while, I was tasting cakes thinking ‘yeah it’s nice, but I can’t taste any coffee’. Yes, these are cakes which are simply to be enjoyed with a cup of coffee. We made a couple of these, one with a jam filling and a streusel topping, and the other jam packed with apples, which was the better of the two in my humble opinion. A good balance of sweet and tart.

The cake making went up a gear towards the end of the week , starting with the rather curious ‘Angel Food Cake’. Again this was a new one on me. Essentially a meringue cake, it’s made from a shed load of egg whites and sugar, with a tiny bit of cake flour throw in for good measure. Insanely sweet, white and fluffy, I don’t really get the point of it, but they are hugely popular here being sold in their millions from Wholefoods to Safeway.

To make up for this cake abomination, we then made (IMHO) the two best cakes of the week. A classic carrot cake with a cream cheese frosting, and the chocolate and hazelnut dacquoise. The former needs no introduction. Moist, sweet and a bit nutty as it should be, but the dacquoise is more of a complicated beast. Two layers of chocolate sponge, one layer of hazelnut dacquoise style sponge, filled and covered with a praline flavoured butter-cream. Pretty intense, but pretty damn tasty too.

Over the course of the week, we also got re-acquainted with the dreaded piping bag with a number of boot camp style piping sessions. Learning different shapes, styles, borders and techniques it became clear very quickly that it’s a real skill, one which I’m pretty sure I wasn’t born with. But I’m getting better. We also started writing in chocolate, which is another matter altogether. The example pictured on the cake above came from the hand of Frank, our instructor, as I’m way to embarrassed to show my own efforts, but lets just say that if a report on them was written by my old school master they would have been described as ‘infantile’.

So that was week 13. I tried to be brief, but it seems I failed. We’ve got a whole more cake to come next week, so bring a fork and a plate people.

Using the left over Pâte à Foncer and the vanilla Sucree, as well as a chocolate version made for us by our instructor, Juliette, we made a trio of tasty treats. The first was a Pear Bourdaloue. A rectangular tart filled with frangipane, jam and topped with artfully sliced pears. Right up my ‘rue’. Next, using the chocolate sucree, a salted caramel tart. Quite a lengthy process this one, as it involved making a salted caramel with which we lined the base, a chocolate ganache which formed the bulk of the filling, all topped off with ‘black glaze’, which contrary to it’s name isn’t a new tone from Dulux, but a silky chocolate flavoured glaze which gives the finished tart a shop ready sheen.

The final tart of the trio was a creamy passion fruit tart, which had a tasty curd like filling similar to a tarte au citron, topped (slightly un-necessarily in my opinion) with blow-torched Swiss meringue, to give a nicely burnished effect. Or at least that’s the theory. For most of us, this was the first time we had used a piping bag to finish a desert, and there were some mixed results. My effort (not pictured) wasn’t too bad, but lets just say Pierre Hermé hasn’t been knocking down my door to offer me a job.

The following day we got busy making choux pastry, hence the HILLARIOUS title of this post. The good news is that choux is, comparatively speaking, a doddle to make. The bad news is that you have to pipe it to make your creations. This being the case, we started off slowly making croquembouche (choux puffs covered in pearl sugar) and a cheesy version on the theme called gougères. Luckily, both just involved piping a small ball of the pastry onto a baking sheet.

More choux shenanigans followed with the Paris Brest (pictured above), a pastry created to commemorate the cycle race of the same name which is the warm up for the Tour De France. Made by piping a circle (or as close as one can manage) of choux, filled post baking with a praline flavoured cream, and topped with flaked almonds. I love anything with praline, so I was a fan. I imagine Lance Armstrong eats a bunch of these every day when he’s training. We also made éclairs later in the day, but for me these were eclipsed by the Brest. No laughing at the back.

Wednesday was almost entirely dedicated to baking and assembling the Gateaux Saint Honoré, a French cake named after the patron saint of bakers and pastry chefs. The cake has no less than 6 separate elements. 1 – a puff pastry base. 2 – a choux pastry ring running the circumference of the base. 3 – choux ‘puff’ balls filled with 4 – Mouselline and dipped in 5 – caramel, finally the centre of the cake is filled with 6 – chantilly. Complicated, but seriously good stuff.

After three days of sweet architecture, the rest of the week was comparatively mundane, as we made cookies, muffins, meringues and what we would call ‘tray bakes’, brownies and ‘lemon bars’. Thats not to say it wasn’t interesting, as it’s been good to get to grips with different techniques and learning the right way of doing things. A special shout has to go out to the peanut butter cookie. Biscuit crack.

So that was last week. This week its cakes, cakes and more cakes…see you then.

A week or so ago on a rare, but none the less slightly grey and grim San Francisco Saturday, we headed to an area of the city called Sunset. It’s a part of town bordered by Ocean Beach (the local break for a lot of SF surfers) and the Pacific Highway that on paper has a lot going for it, but seems to have become a bit neglected, a bit like a faded British seaside town.

We’d read that the area is on the up again following a small cluster of new(ish) and interesting places opening up down there, one of which is a cafe / restaurant called Outerlands. I’d first heard about Outerlands from a Tartine Bread video that features the owner, David Muller. David had met Chad Robertson through a love of surfing, and Chad taught David how to make the bread that he now serves at the cafe.

We pitched up at around late lunch time, and it was busy, busy. So we put our names down and sat on the little bench outside and happily watched the world go by. After half an hour we were beginning to get a bit chilly, but before long we were sat inside the warm, wood clad interior perusing the simple but delicious sounding menu, most of which is based around David’s excellent bread.

Over a glass off red wine and a Black Butte Porter (served in Ball jam jars, natch) we quickly decided on the soup and grilled cheese combo. The delicious broccoli and potato soup had a little island of sauteed borage on the top, and was lightly spiced with either cumin or ground coriander. Properly warming and hearty stuff. Perfect food for the weather.

The grilled cheese sandwich was a thing of beauty. So simple, yet so effective. The bread was ‘toasted’ by being brushed with garlic olive oil and then seared on a skillet to give it this toothsome, super tasty crust. The twin cheese filling was a combination of (we think) Cheddar and Colby, and was melted to perfection. So tasty, and went brilliantly with the soup.

As you’ll know, I’m a lover of simple food done really well, which Outerlands seems to have pegged, but for me one of the greatest and most encouraging thing is how it has been instrumental in kick-starting the rejuvenation of an area of town. Sure, Sunset isn’t all surf breaks and hipsters, but along with places like Woodshop, Mollusk, Tuesday Tattoo and The General Store it shows how good food and a bunch of like minded people can make a difference.

A local hero in the truest sense, then. We’ll be back to sample the dinner menu.

Bit of a funny week last week. We returned to college on Tuesday after the long 4th July weekend, and everyone seemed a bit lacking in vim and vigour. Think maybe there’s a bit of course fatigue going down. It’s been a pretty full on ten weeks, so it’s not surprising, and it was also our last week of Viennoiserie before we move on to pastry.

We started the week week working on more croissants, continuing our lamination education. It was great to get a few more batches under our belts. Getting more used to the sheeters, tidying up our lamination techniques, and working on our shaping. As part of this, we also made a couple of batches of croissants using some more exotic flours.

Firstly, a teff variation using 60% teff flour pre-cooked into a rubbery porridge which we made into traditional shapes and pain au chocolat. And also a dough made using a buckwheat poolish. As noted here before, I’m not a huge fan of teff, but the croissants actually tasted pretty good, better in fact than the pain au chocolat variation, which is odd. To my palate, the buckwheat didn’t offer a great deal, although the danish-like shapes we filled with a mix of mashed potato, goats cheese and spring onions did taste pretty damn good.

We then delved into the murky world of competition Vienoisserie. A couple of the people at the SFBI have been involved with the US team for the Coupe Du Monde de la Patisserie, the World Cup of pastry chefs held in Paris each year. From this, a few formulas with rather exotic names like Swirling Duo, Triple Crown and Imagination, have been added to the syllabus. These combine some of the doughs and techniques we’ve learned over the past couple of weeks, and elevate them to culinary works of art. I’m pretty sure I won’t be making any of them again (I’m not holding my breath for a call from the UK team), but it was cool to see some of the techniques, and have a think about how they could be applied in other ways.

The last two days of the week, we had a practical assessment. In our groups of four, we had to run our own schedule for Thursday and Friday, making and baking a a range of Viennoiserie products, all of which we had made over the previous couple of weeks. Thursday we were tasked with making batches of sticky buns, stollen, pain au lait and Danish, as well as prepping mixes for the following day. Friday we baked croissants, both regular (traditional shapes and pain au chocolat) and whole wheat (mini traditional and ham and cheese), pumpkin and regular brioche, and the rather formidable Pan D’Oro.

Aside from a couple of hitches, a bit of over proofing here and under proofing there, we did a pretty stellar job. The majority of the products looked great, and we were all really pleased with the lamination on our croissants and Danish. It was also good to run our own schedule again, which gives you a small insight into what it might be like to do it as part of your own business.

So that’s it for Viennoiserie. We’re moving on to pastry now. So long, and thanks for all the croissants. Until next time…

Since arriving in San Fran, we’ve heard quite a few people say that In-N-Out burger are the cream of the crop when it comes fast food. In-N-Out are the originators of the ‘drive-thru’ phenomenon, having opened the first one ever in 1948, and as a result most of their outlets tend to be in not very handy locations to those without cars like us. So when we passed one on the way home from Tahoe last weekend, we seized the day.

When we got in there, the first thing that struck us was the size of the menu. They only really have 6 things on offer. Three kinds of burgers, fries, shakes and soft drinks. That’s it. It’s pretty refreshing to have such a limited choice, and must have been a pretty bold decision for a country like the US where people are used to having things their way.

In-N-Out are also obviously pretty serious about the quality of their ingredients. I’m sure a fair amount of it is bluster, ‘hand leafed lettuce’ anyone? But they do seem to take pride and care in the selection and procurement of their meat, cheese and veg, claims that I’m sure a lot of the other big burger chains couldn’t back up.

I opted for the Double-Double. Two beef patties, two slices of cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion. Now, I’m not going to say it was a Meatwagon-esque, life changing moment, but they were pretty damn good. The burgers themselves tasted fresh, meaty, well seasoned, and weren’t greasy. The bun was pretty good too, and the veg nice, crispy and clean tasting.

We also had a tasty vanilla shake, for me a good yardstick for any diner style place. The only thing that was disappointing were the fries. I can’t really put my finger on what was wrong with them, but they just seemed a bit dry and tasteless. Meh.

But the fries weren’t enough to put us off. Next time we hire a car, we’ll be going In-N-Out again.

Croissants and Danish Pastries are the new baguettes. FACT. We made a shed load of them last week as we finally got stuck into laminated doughs.

Laminating doughs with butter is one of the key skills of Viennoiserie, and it can be pretty tricky. Get it right and you end up with beautiful, flaky, buttery pastry. Win. Get it wrong and you can end up with greasy products or a clogged up sheeter. Lose.

As before, the doughs are yeasted and mixed in a very similar way, but the new techniques came into play after the initial proof. One of the most important things with lamination is to keep everything cold. You want your butter and dough to be almost frozen with a ‘plastic’ like consistency. This enables you to sheet the dough thin and ‘lock in’ the butter over a series of folds creating alternating layers of pastry and fat.

It’s been pretty hot here in San Fran recently, so this has made the whole lamination process a lot tougher. We’ve been heavily relying on the blast freezer to quickly chill our doughs in between folds so we can work on them without the butter melting, or the dough getting too soft.

I won’t bore you with all the details, but once you’ve got lamination down (not that I’m saying I’m quite there yet), you’ve got a whole host of tasty shizzle at your finger tips based around croissant and Danish pastry formulas.

We made a range of different croissants both with and without pre-ferments. Plain ones, whole wheat ones, ham and cheese ones, almond ones, and pain au chocolat, all different kinds of Danish, lunettes, bear claws, snails, a CRAZY Breton pastry called koign-amann which contains enough butter and sugar to kill an army, and thats just the tip of the iceberg.

In creating all this new sweet stuff, we’ve learned a bunch of new techniques. Using the sheeting machines, different types and styles of shaping, making fillings for the pastries. It felt a bit like we took in enough information for a month, let alone a week.

Oh and it wasn’t all lamination, lamination, lamination. A special shout has to go out to an AMAZONGGG cake that we made at the end of the week. The mighty Bienenstich or ‘bee sting’ cake. It’s a brioche based dough, filled with diplomat cream and topped with a molten mixture of honey, sugar, butter and almonds that sets hard. Properly delicious stuff. If you ever see it on sale, buy it. You’ll thank me.

Next week we’re finishing up Viennoiserie, finishing the week with a two day practical. Wish me luck.

A couple of weeks ago it was East 17, and now blam! I’m hitting you with an Ultravox reference. High brow shizzle I think you’ll agree. And why did up this 80s relic? Because last week we started the Viennoiserie section of our course.

Viennoiserie is the name given to all kinds of yeasted, enriched doughs. From croissants, to Danish pastries, sticky buns to brioche, we’re talking about doughs enriched with sugar, eggs, milk and butter. Lots of butter. I’ve never seen so much of the stuff than in the past week.

We’re going to be getting in to lamination next week, the technique for making croissants amongst other things, but the breads we made last week were mixed in a similar way to what we’ve become familiar with, even if the formulas were in some cases a lot more complicated.

We started off the week slowly, making a range of products based around brioche and sweet roll doughs. With most of these we had to adjust our mixing to incorporate the sugar and butter after the dough had developed in strength in the mixer. The reason for this is that both inhibit the development of gluten, and if added at the beginning you end up mixing for bloody ages and your dough comes off the mixer too warm, which in turn effects fermentation. Best avoided in other words.

Day one we made a bunch of straight brioche rolls, and learned how to make the classic ‘Brioche à tête’ shape, some glazed with pearl sugar and others just washed with egg. The following day, we really stepped it up, particularly in terms of sweetness. Diabetes alert. We made cinnamon rolls, pain au lait braids and the stars of the show, so called sticky buns, and these great little sweet rolls called Gibassier.

The sticky buns are basically cinnamon buns, but cooked like upside down cakes with a glaze made with brown sugar, butter, honey, cinnamon, vanilla and pecan nuts. Sticky, insanely sweet, but very good. The kid of bun that only the Americans could make. The Gibassier were a bit more restrained. A French sweet roll made with olive oil, anise seed and candied orange peel and then dusted with sugar after baking. Not particularly obvious flavours, but awesome.

Day three we got festive with a range of ‘holiday breads’. We made the German favourite, stollen. A sweet dough further enriched with booze soaked dried fruits, shaped like Mick Jagger’s lips, and then coated in powdered sugar to resemble snow-fall. A savoury Austrian bread called Kugelhopf, which we made with lardons, Swiss cheese, sauteed onions and rosemary. It was pretty delicious. Lovely, soft, rich dough with a great combination of flavours. We also made an American interpretation of the hot cross bun, which I’ve got to say was pretty average. I prefer the version I make.

Then we made something called Bostock, which was a bit of a revelation. I guess it’s nearest explanation of it would be if French toast mated with a bakewell tart and had a tasty baby. You take inch thick slices of brioche (a great way to use stale loaves) and toast them on either side. Then dip both sides in flavoured simple syrup (in this case rum) before spreading one side with frangipan, and sprinkling with slivered almonds. Bake for a short time, dust with powdered sugar and then eat with a dirty great grin on your fizzog.

Things started to get a bit more technical, and oddly Christmasy, towards the end of the week when we made Italian festive favourites pannetone, pan d’oro, and columba di pasqua. These doughs are so enriched with butter, eggs and sugar that they have to be ‘built up’ in stages so that they are strong enough to take all the inclusions. Surprisingly, the resulting doughs are actually really light and delicate, so much so that the pannetone has to be hung upside down after it leaves the oven so it doesn’t collapse on itself. Not surprisingly, with all the sugar, butter and candied fruits, they also taste amazing. But you can also understand why most Italians only eat them once a year.

So, another killer week, but I’ve got to say I’m seriously worried about my already troubled waistline. I might make a pre-emptive application to Biggest Loser now.

Last week bought with it mixed feelings. It was our last week of studying ‘pure’ bread. This week we’ve moved on to Viennoiserie, and whilst I am totally relishing the fresh challenges and new techniques we’re getting to experience dealing with enriched doughs, I’ve got to confess, I’m missing the bread ‘lab’ quite a bit.

The week was basically a review of all the techniques and baking concepts we’d covered over the past couple of months, and started where we began with baguettes. It was really good to revisit our French friends, as it helped cement a bunch of stuff that wasn’t really glued down. I guess in those first few weeks there was so much information flooding into my brain that I couldn’t really grasp hold of it all, and with baguettes being one of the most challenging breads, there was a lot to remember.

So we did a good day of mixing, shaping, rolling, scoring and baking the buggers, and I was relieved that aside from a few howlers here and there, I was pretty happy with how they turned out. For me, in many ways the scoring is the trickiest thing. You need to get the angle and depth of the cuts just right to get that spring and the famous baguette ears. I changed my technique after a bit more of an in-depth critique of my first batch, which improved results, but I’ve still got a lot of practicing to do.

Day two was all about re-visiting sourdoughs, and further crystallising the techniques and concepts around baking them. We did an interesting (again I guess this term is relative depending on how into bread you are) experiment with four almost identical sourdough formulas where the only variable was the percentage of (2 feed schedule) starter added. We made breads with 10, 20, 30 and 40% in the mix, baked them off and compared the results.

Obviously, the breads with the higher percentage were ’sourer’, but was was also interesting was the balance and depth of flavour. The lower percentages were a bit bland, and maybe could have used a bit more salt to make them more interesting, but the 40%, whilst having a pleasing twang lacked the depth as the sourness seemed to override everything else. The 30% was probably my favourite with a good balance of both, but like with many things it life, it’s a matter of taste.

We also mixed a ciabatta (revisiting the idea of  double-hydration) and a hand mixed sourdough which was probably my favourite bread of the course so far. It used 50% liquid white and whole wheat flour starter and a small amount of toasted wheat-germ in the final formula. The strength was developed through a a series of 3 folds every 45 minutes, it was pre-shaped, then final shaped in baskets and then retarded over night for baking the following morning. The results were awesometown. I made a 1.5 k loaf which came out brilliantly and made me a very happy man. Hmmm I can still taste it now.

Day three we moved in to uncharted territory. A land known as gluten flee. It was an OK place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. As with the ancient grains, through various consultation projects the SFBI have pioneered improving the quality of gluten free breads. We made various loaves with sorghum, buckwheat, teff and rice flour, which was in many ways a bit more like making a cake than baking bread. The results were better than anything gluten free that I’ve tasted before (not that I’m much of an expert), but I have to say I’m glad I don’t need to rely on them for my daily bread.

Moving swiftly on, Thursday was a mixed bag of various breads. We re-visted a bit of German rye, a bit of ancient grain action, some whole wheat, a roll recipe and another of my favourite loaves of the course, the Miche. The Miche is a classic French sourdough loaf weighing in at around 1.5 to 2 kilograms, the most famous of which is made by the peeps at Poilâne. Those that know me know that I’m a HUGE Poilâne fan and have blogged about their legendary bread before, so was pretty excited about baking this bad boy.

The loaf used high extraction flour, a high percentage of starter (almost 70%) and water, as well as a bit of toasted wheat-germ. We also autolysed the flour (there’s a pretty good explanation of the process here) to improve the flavour of the loaf, and developed strength with folds before shaping and retarding over night. Again I was a happy man. The higher extraction flour gave a tighter crumb, but a great flavour and a great sourdough tang. Trés bon.

The final day of the week was a bit of a party. The wood fired oven was stoked up again, and using the direct fire method (where there is is still a fire burning at the time of baking) we baked a bunch of different flat breads. Pita, naan (more on this in a post all of it’s own soon), lavash, and of course pizza. It was a great day, and a fitting farewell to the bread section of the course.

So that was seven weeks of bread. Big thanks to Frank and Mac who held our hands so brilliantly over the past 7 weeks. Onwards to the pastry lab…

I got back from class today to find a nice surprise gift from the wife, a copy of the brand spanking new food quarterly, Lucky Peach.

Created by Momofuku’s David Chang (Monofuku means lucky peach in Japanese), Lucky Peach was initially going to be a TV show and then iPad app, but after a chance encounter with the ever hip crew at Dave Eggers’ McSweeney’s, it became a magazine.

The launch issue is loosely themed around ramen, which is unsurprising given Chang’s culinary roots (he cut his teeth in Tokyo), and this celebration of one of Japan’s national dishes at a time when the country is in such turmoil seems somehow apt.

Anyway, I’ve not really got stuck into it properly yet, but my first impressions are that it looks very promising. A highly suitable replacement for Fire & Knives which I can’t seem to find out here.

Right, now I need to go and find me a bowl of soupy noodles. Sayonara.

To quote Jimmy Castor’s ‘Troglodyte‘, “What we’re gonna do right here is go back. Way back. Back into time…” because last week was all about kicking it old school, both in terms of ingredients and baking methods. We’re talking ancient grains and wood fire ovens.

Ancient wheats like spelt, khorasan (more commonly known as Kamut) emmer and, einkorn, and grains like millet, sorghum, quinoa, and teff were the precursors to modern wheat. They fell out of favour centuries ago as farmers and latterly scientists, developed the higher yield grains that we ‘enjoy’ today. However, wheats with increased yields and higher levels of protein / gluten are much harder for our bodies to digest, and less healthy. For this reason, ancient grains have become fashionable again, and are considered by many to be the future of bread.

But with less gluten, come flatter, denser breads. Or so my experience had taught me. However, the SFBI has been pioneering research in dealing with these ancient grains more successfully. They have been employed by various culinary organisations to develop formulas and techniques that use these flours to greater effect and realise results that are closer to those which today’s consumers expect.

Before last week, I had little or no experience in dealing with these kinds of grains, and I wasn’t expecting great things, but I was impressed. The breads were definately heavier in general, but with most of them we managed to get surprisingly open textures, and with the exception of the quinoa (pretty rank, sorry), some damn tasty breads. We achieved this through more careful mixing, using cooked starters (using boiling water to glutinise starches and ’set’ hydration), careful handling and lots of venting.

Again, across the week we cooked a lot of bread. We kicked things off pretty simply by doing some kamut, spelt and einkhorn sourdoughs to get an idea of the different flavour profiles, before mixing things up using kamut and spelt flours as bases for a bunch of different breads incorporating different quantities of ancient grains. These included kamut with wheat germ, barley bread, sorghum and kamut, teff sourdough, Moroccan barley fougasse, millet and pecan, quinoa sourdough, cracked kamut crowns, sorgum olive bread, we even sprouted some spelt to use in an ancient grain style pan bread. Another busy week.

Running in tandem with all this ancient grain shizzle was some ancient fire shizzle. The SFBI wood fired oven got fired up early in the week in preparation for a wood fired class being held at the weekend, and luckily we got to see and taste some of the benefits. We had a long discussion about the pros and cons of wood fired vs deck ovens, and despite the romance and the appealing flavour of the of the open fire, my feeling is that it seems to be more trouble than it’s worth. With the all the work that goes in to keeping the oven at the right temperature in addition to the scheduling and effort of making the doughs, and then getting temp and proofing times to match up, it all ads up to a huge commitment.

That being said, I did have one of the finest croissants of my life baked by Mike (mentioned in the previous post) who was manning the oven for most of the week. I don’t know what it was about it, but it just tasted richer. I’d love one at home, but not sure I could bake in one every day.

This week is all about German rye breads, and other European specialties such as bagels, pretzels and French country shapes. Until then…

So last weekend we got balls deep in our new neighborhood, and had a proper explore. We headed east on 24th street into the slightly less gentrified realms of The Mission, and basically got very excited. SO. MANY. GOOD. PLACES. TO. EAT down there. We only scratched the surface, so there will be more coming from this ‘hood for sure, but we definitely wet our whistles.

After checking out all the crazy murals plastered over the buildings down there (the missus was rather taken by the ones featuring the buff winged Navajos), we got grazing.

First up, we hit up ‘Mexi-Catessen’ La Palma. The are undoubtedly better places to get Mexican grub in San Francisco, but we liked the buzz of this deli / eatery so we decided to grab a bite. Me, a carnitas (pork) Super burrito, and the missus chicken tacos. Neither were outstanding, but definitely filled a hole, and we’ll definitely be back. They do good looking rotisserie style chickens, and tasty looking Papusas stuffed with all sorts of tasty things.

After a burrito the size of a baby’s arm, I was feeling sleepy. Coffee was needed, and fast. Thus far I’ve failed to find a suitable heir to my daily cup at Kaffiene in London. I’ve been to most of the places that people have recommended, Blue Bottle, Ritual, Contraband, and if I’m honest (sorry!) none have really hit the mark. I’ve been surprised that the flat white / shorter coffees haven’t really made much of an appearance here seeing as SF seems to be totally on point with most food trends. Anyway, the closest thing I’ve had so far was the double shot small latte from Dynamo. It hit the spot. And as they are also known for their donuts, it would have been rude not to sample their wares, so we also choked down a lemon and pistachio. Very good it was too.

After more wandering, more murals, and eyeing up more places to check out at a later date (the list is LONG), we needed another snack. So we popped in to Taqueria Vallarta. Again, probably not the best Taqueria in town, but it’s appealing in a spit and sawdust kind of way, and the smell of chorizo wafting over from the taco stand was hard to ignore. So we bought a couple, and at $1.75 a piece, you can’t really argue. Spicy, piquant, tasty as hell.

Our last stop was Mission Pie. We only went in for a look, but the rhubarb and strawberry pie was winking at us, so we had to give it a try. And it was good. In our experience so far, the American’s like it sweet, but this pie had just the right balance of tart and sweet. The crust was pretty perfect. Not too thick, and firm / soft in all the right places. And it came with a nice dollop of whipped cream. Seriously good.

A few hours well spent, and not too damaging on the wallet either. There will undoubtedly be more posts from 24th soon. Hasta luego.

I seriously can’t believe that I’m now a month in to the course at the SFBI. Time really is flying by crazy fast.

Last week we moved on from more refined flours to the healthier, more wholesome, and some might say less fun, whole grains. But as we discovered, healthier bread doesn’t have to mean slicing into a loaf with the weight and consistency of a house brick. Over the week we used an array of new flours both in doughs and in preferments, including whole wheat, semolina, type 85 high extraction flour, rye, buckwheat and corn to name but a few.

Millet Bread

But before we got busy, we discussed the various challenges of baking with whole grains. In comparison to more refined flours, there are two main factors to consider when working with them (again I’m simplifying and truncating things here). The first is the lower protein percentage / quality due to the presence of more bran in the flour. This equals less gluten, and therefore flatter breads as whole wheat doughs trap fermentation gases less readily. The second thing to watch out for are fermentation times. These are again affected by the higher levels of bran (also known as ‘ash content‘) in the flours. The minerals and nutrients in bran fuel enzyme activity, and that means faster and more intense fermentation, which effects a number of stages of the production process from bulk fermentation to final proof. Interesting, right? If not, you might be in the wrong place.

Corn Bread

Anyway, as with previous weeks we went on to bake a shed-load of breads. We’ve really picked up production from the early days of the course, making on average 5 different loaves a day. It can be pretty hectic, and I’ve made a few mistakes along the way as a result, but nothing too major. So now for the list bit. This week, amongst others, we made 100% whole wheat pan bread, corn bread, millet bread, pear and buckwheat, candies hazelnut squares, oatmeal and date, semolina, raisin and fennel filones, as well as the oddly named crown of the great valley, prairie bread and power bread.

Pear & Buckwheat

Despite the more elaborate formulas we made last week, I think my favourite was the comparatively simple Rustic Filone. A short sourdough baguette made with whole wheat, white flour, a rye poolish and a liquid starter. Great crust and crumb with a really deep flavour. One to remember.

Power Bread

On a slightly different note, I was chatting to one of the other people on the course that has also quit a ‘desk job’ to do the course about how different it is being on your feet all day as opposed to sitting down staring at a screen for hours on end. I was saying to him that I’ve noticed that when I get home I’m absolutely shattered. But not the kind of shattered I was from doing what I was doing before which was borne of frustration, boredom and the ‘rat race’ in general. But from being mentally stimulated, and physical nature of the ‘work’.  I’m not sure it’s an epiphany, but it feels pretty bloody good.

Candied Hazelnut Squares

This week we’re focusing on ancient grains, so Kamut, Spelt, Einkhorn and others are on the menu. And the SFBI wood fired oven is being stoked up too. Should be interesting.

What. A. Week.

Despite the past two weeks at SFBI being fantastic, one of the things I’ve been most excited about getting stuck into is making sourdoughs and science behind the rise. I’ve done a fair few sourdough experiments at home in the past, but never really nailed it, so the past week really ticked some major boxes for me.

We started our foray into the world of sour by looking into it’s history and mythology, and of course touching on the famous San Francisco Sourdough. It’s interesting stuff (at least to me), and as a few readers have expressed an interest in knowing more, here’s a potted version.

Sourdough was discovered / invented by accident in ancient Egypt at around 1500 BC. The story goes that some women making loaves on the banks of the Nile left a couple out in the humid, sunny conditions. They discovered their omission, and added the dough that had started to leaven to the rest of their batch. They liked the resulting lighter bread and it’s flavour, and kick started a great bread making tradition.

We then went on to de-bunk some of the myths that surround the art of making bread with natural yeast. There’s quite a bit of romanticism surrounding sourdough cultures. You’ll hear of ones that have been passed down from some German monastery in the middle ages, but the truth of the matter is that a starter’s life-cycle and feeding schedule means that every few weeks or so it’s a totally new beast. Any traces of ancient flours or yeasts would be long gone after a few months. Sad but true.

The same is true of cultures that use stuff other than flour and water to kick start them. Some people swear by using fruit like grapes or rhubarb to get things started, but any natural yeasts that exist on the skin of such fruit will most likely not be that happy in their new habitat, and again will die off and be replaced pretty quickly. Although, fruit may contribute some sugars that will help kick start the fermentation process, so it does have it’s uses.

We then went on to talk specifically about San Francisco sourdough. I was under the impression that the starter would have a specific formula, but no. What makes an SF sourdough is Lactobacillus Sanfranciscensis, the natural yeast that’s in the air out here. Traditionally the starter is made with just flour and water and can be either stiff or liquid, but people have been known to add fruit, yoghurt, apple juice and probably all sorts of other things.

But the starter is only part of the story of that trademark tang. The other factor is the way the bread is made. The bread’s dough picks up these additional flavour profiles by retarding it overnight, which slows down fermentation and develops that taste and tang. Obviously, you can do this anywhere in the Word and create a near perfect facsimile of this kind of sourdough, but you wouldn’t really be able to call it a San Francisco sourdough as it wouldn’t contain that specific yeast. So hopefully that’s put that one to bed.

The majority of the rest of the week, we got busy in the lab. We kicked things off by starting our own culture that we managed to coax into life in time to be used in a starter on Thursday. And then be baked bread. LOTS of bread. Across the week we made SF sourdoughs, bulk and shape retarded sourdough baguettes, ciabattas, olive bead, walnut and raisin batards, sour wholewheat boules, braided challah and a chocolate bread.

I’ve probably missed a couple, but I think my favourite bread of the week was a ‘hand mix’ we did. Simple and easy, but a bit time consuming. We mixed the flour, water and starter by hand until properly combined and then bulk fermented it for around 3 hours, folding it every 45 minutes to build up it’s strength. We then divided the dough, roughly shaped it into 1.5 kilo rounds and set aside for half an hour or so. It was then shaped, popped into floured baskets and retarded over night to be baked first thing the following morning. The results were fantastic. Great crust, great crumb, great flavour, and very little effort. Time did most of the work. Probably not that practical from a big production point of view, but proper artisan stuff.

So that was the week that was. This week we’re doing whole grains. Until then…

The pre-ferments we used last week are kind of like junior sourdough starters, and mostly come in three styles. Liquid or ‘poolish’ (first developed by Polish bakers), a stiffer sponge also known as ‘biga’ (used traditionally by the Italians) and the more solid Pre-Fermented Dough (PFD). Unlike sourdough starters, they contain a small quantity of commercial yeast to kick start fermentation, and are usually left to develop for between 12 and 24 hours before being added to a final mix. Not only do they add character and flavour, but they also help aid gluten development allowing for less intensive mixing.

We used these different pre-ferments across the week to make a fantastic array of breads, starting with, you guessed it, more baguettes. The reason for doing this is that it gave us the opportunity to do a side by side comparison to see how the different styles effect the end product. Poolish is supposed to be the pre-ferment of choice for baguettes, but to my pallet the PFD tasted the best, with the biga coming off in last place.

Following on from this we incorporated PFD into a range of formulas. A Pain Meunier, or millers bread, which contains white flour, whole wheat flour, wheat germ and cracked wheat which is soaked over night, and shaped with dowel to create a ‘fendu’. Plain and toasted walnut whole wheat boules. A simple wheat and rye bread. A classic American intensively mixed, ‘pan’ bread which is enriched with a bit of sugar and butter. A braided egg bread, which is a bit like a less intense brioche, and contains as the name suggests eggs, and also sugar, milk power and butter. And last but not least a multi-grain ‘batard’ which is made with a pre-soaked mix of rolled oats, sesame, pumpkin, and flax seeds. They were all great in their own way, but I loved both the taste and the craft that went into the Meunier.

The use of PFD and ’soakers’ brings with it some interesting challenges from a formula point of view as you obviously have to take out a percentage of your yeast, water, flour and whatever else you are using to create them. I’ve found the calculating and re-calibrating element of the course the toughest part so far as the mathematical side of my brain is one that hasn’t seen any action for quite some time. But I think I’m getting on top of it. Or at least I hope I am.

The final part of the week was a practical ‘test’ of sorts where we were asked to make three different breads . Working in 4 groups of 4, we had to make two different types of baguettes in differing quantities, and one of the more specialty breads from earlier in the week. I think we all did really well. It was pretty hectic and hard work, but our baking schedules all ran pretty smoothly and everyone scaled their ingredients perfectly. There was obviously room for improvement, but as a first attempt at flying solo, it was a great success.

This week we’ve got our first introduction to sourdough, which I’m really excited about, so until next time…

Aside from the course at the SFBI, one of the things I’ve been really excited about food wise in San Fran is exploring the food truck scene. I still can’t really work out why this kind of thing hasn’t really caught on in the UK (aside from phenomena like The Meatwagon), because over here the scene is pretty big.

A couple of Friday’s ago, with empty bellies and a bit of a thirst on, we hit the Fort Mason Centre to check out one of the regular food truck events called Off The Grid. From what I can gather, Off The Grid kind of represents the food truck scene here in SF, and hosts a number of events every week for the trucks on their roster.

We turned up at around 8pm, and having opened at 5, the Fort Mason car park was already rammed. There were around 30 plus trucks, some other food and booze tents, live music and sound-systems. It was a bit like a mini food festival meets a street party, and it smelled good.

The only drawback of arriving when we did was that it had got really busy, and a lot of the trucks, particularly the popular ones, had pretty large queues. We decided to divide and conquer, and split ourselves between the queues for Chairman Bao’s baked and steamed Chinese buns, Seoul On Wheels‘ remixed Korean barbecue offerings and the beer tent. It was pretty painful queuing whilst everyone was chowing down around us, but after about 4o minutes, we’d made it.

Chairman Bao’s steamed bun-witches (sorry, that’s the only description I can think of) were insane. Two kinds of fluffy, light steamed buns stuffed with meat and vegetables. The pork belly was deliciously spiced and shredded, served with some pickled daikon, and the chicken sesame and soy flavoured with strips of picked carrot. Super tasty. Seoul On Wheel’s offerings are like Korean barbecue meets Tex Mex. We had a bulgogi ’sammy’ which was stuffed to the gunnels with salty, savoury and slightly charred ribbons of rib eye steak. Delicious. And then some pot stickers, which had good flavour, but were pretty greasy. Not so delicious.

We’ll definitely be going back. There are a bunch of other trucks I want to check out, including Brass Knuckle which I’ve heard good things about. But this time we’ll head down early, get our grub on and then sit back an enjoy the atmosphere as opposed to queuing.

I’m hoping there’ll be something like this going on by the time we get back to the UK.

So my first week at the SFBI is over, and it’s been a blast. I’ve decided to do a post a week as opposed to boring everyone with continual stream of stuff as it happens. So this is post number one. I’ve also been given the green light by the college to post formulas (recipes), so I’ll probably share a few of them as we go. The majority of them thus far deal with pretty large quantities, but most should be able to be scaled down for home use.

As I mentioned in an earlier entry, the college is a bit of a pain to get to. It’s based in South San Francisco, and I’m currently staying in Russian Hill. So I have to get a bus, BART and then a shuttle at the other end that drops me off at the SFBI. With classes starting at 8am, this all this means I’ve been having to get up at a slightly painful time of 5.45 every morning! This will ease off when we move into our new place in Noe Valley in a couple of weeks, but I guess bakers hours are something I’m going to have to get used to.

But once you’re through the door of the SFBI, you kind of forget about all that. The college is based around a commercial bakery called Thoroughbread, based in the Mission, so there’s a buzz in the building from the start of the day, with the ovens, mixers and bakers already busily at work when we arrive.

Day one started with a few inspiring words from Michel Suas, the boss at SFBI, outlining the course structure and introducing us to the instructors who are looking after us for the bread section of the course, Mac McConnell and Frank Sally, and then pretty much immediately we got down to business.

A fairly big part of week one is about orientation, with about two thirds of the day spent doing practical work in the ‘lab’ and the remaining third in the classroom. We’ve been covering off elements of the history of baking, the science of what makes a great loaf, formulas (formulas are the new recipes), bakers percentages, how to use typical bakery machinery from deck ovens to mixers, and making A LOT of baguettes.

We’ve been making so many of these French sticks, as they are the perfect training loaf. Making baguettes combines a range of hand skills including pre-shaping, shaping and slashing, and making them in slightly different ways provides a great illustration of the effects of various methods on the finished product. We’ve been varying mixing times from short to intense, and observing the effects of differing lengths of bulk fermentation. It’s been really interesting, and has clearly pointed out where I’ve been going wrong with my home bread baking experiments.

The above is obviously VERY top line as if I wrote everything that’s gone into my slightly addled brain over the last 5 days, I’d be here all week, but safe to say so far so good. Really looking forward to this week when we’re going to start playing around with pre-ferments and mixing up the raw ingredients a bit.

So until then…

There are few things in life that lift my spirits in a morning like a bacon sarnie does. Hungover, or not, that combination of salty, smoky bacon, bread, butter and whatever condiment takes your fancy is hard to beat. Fruit salad, muesli, granola, porridge, whilst all lovely in their own way, are always going to take second place.

The fine example above is the Old Spot bacon sandwich at St John Bread & Wine, which really is a thing of beauty. Thick cut bacon, yielding, lightly griddled white bread with a toothsome crust, butter and a generous helping of home made tomato ketchup on the side. As they say on their site, it truly is the Bacon Sandwich of your nocturnal fantasies.

But I’m not a butty elitist. In many ways I’m just as happy scarfing down some greasy spoon bacon slapped between a couple of slices of Sunblest. However you get your fix, it’s a breakfast that always feels like a bit of a treat, as opposed to just a way to start the day.

Truly one of life’s simple pleasures.

And then, straight out of left-field comes The German Baker. My mate Javed has been telling me for some time about these bread vans that pitch up at locations around London (and the rest of Southern England) and ply their doughy wares. He swears by their breads, so I thought it was high time I got my act together and paid them a visit.

So, on a rather miserable, rainy Tuesday morning last week, I set off to track them down. Looking on their route planner I found out they were going to be outside the German Embassy between 9.15 and 10am, and true to stereotypical form, their truck was there bang on time tucked down a little alley beside the embassy.

Climbing on board you are greeted with not only a great array of breads, rolls and pastries, but all sorts of German deli fare and confectionery. But it was the breads that got me really excited. Shelves laden with pretzels, pumpernickel loaves, Kaiser rolls and all kinds of rye bread. Hmmmmmmmm.

On Javed’s recommendation, I went for a Bauernbrot, which is a rye and wheat mix. I wasn’t disappointed. It’s got a dense texture, with a really deep flavour, and a small hint of a kind of molasses sweetness. It’s great on its own with a generous spreading of butter, and makes a mean continental style cheese and ham sandwich with healthy dose of mustard.

Click here to find out if The German Baker passes through your ‘hood, and if not it’s well worth your while to intercept them somewhere.

Auf wiedersehen for now.

As those of you who read Hand To Mouth regularly will know, I don’t really ‘do’ restaurant reviews. Blogging about the latest ‘hot’ places has never really been what this blog is about. But what I do like to do is big up my favourite places to eat, be they a small old school cafe or a successful enterprise like this Local Hero, The Anchor & Hope.

Around the Autumn of 2003, when The Anchor & Hope opened, I think it’s safe to say there was a wave of gastropub fatigue in London. A slew of Eagle imitators had sprung up, and quite a lot of them were falling pretty far off the mark. Then The Anchor & Hope opened and changed the game, and at the same time kind of became a blueprint for what I look for in a restaurant these days.

The style of the food is very much in the tradition of the establishments that the founders came from (The Eagle, St John & The fox). It’s un-fussy, but classy. Seasonal, but never boring. Interesting, but never up it’s own arse. And without fail, always very, very tasty. The other thing I love is that there are always a few sharing options on the menu. I’ve had memorable nights fighting over the scraps from a shoulder of lamb with a group of mates, and debating with the wife over who should have the last slither of meat from a côte de boeuf. There have even been a few occasions where we’ve ordered a sharing dish for 4 or 5 so we could take a doggy bag home and enjoy the same meal over again.

The continuing popularity of The Anchor & Hope is as good a testament as any to how good the food is. I don’t think I’ve ever been there when the dining room hasn’t been rammed throughout the evening (they don’t take bookings, so expect to put your name down and queue unless you get there early), and their set Sunday lunch is always a sell out. I also really like the environment. Lots of stripped back, weathered wood and miss-matched furniture. Grown up, but not in any way stuffy.

Our last trip was for the Sunday lunch, and as usual we were in for a treat. Three courses built for pleasure. Starting with a aioli dressed octopus salad, followed by roasted rump of beef with amazing boulangère potatoes,  and for pud, warm Parkin served with poached rhubarb and cold custard. It really was totally delicious. In addition to the lovely grub, there’s something really nice about A) not having to make a choice, and B) everyone having the shared experience of having the same thing to eat. Great stuff.

Anyway, I think I’ve said enough. You get the picture. The Anchor & Hope doesn’t have a website, and can be found at 36 The Cut, London, SE1 8LP.

UPDATE: While I’m at it I should probably also mention The Anchor & Hope’s sister restaurant 32 Great Queen Street, which I also have a lot of love for. Similar food and vibe, but you can book tables. I took my now wife there on our first date, and you can find it at 32 Great Queen Street, London, WC2B 5AA.

I FINALLY made it down to The Meateasy earlier in the week, and whilst it was fantastic, I’ve decided not to do a review for a couple reasons. Firstly, because I reviewed The Meatwagon a while ago, and secondly because it’s already had loads of blogger covereage and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t add anthing different.

That being said, I took some (not very good) pictures, and because it’s been such a phenomenon, I thought that it definitely warranted a post.

As I mentioned in my earlier review, the burgers have become the stuff of legend, and not just in the ‘blogosphere’. Everyone who is anyone has been name-checking them for quite some time. As before, they didn’t disappoint, and the other winners on the night included the onion rings (substantial and crispy), the buffalo wings (tangy and served with a great blue cheese dip) and the chilli cheese fries (deep, deep flavours and super tasty).

But what I find so amazing and encouraging about The Meateasy, is that Yanni and his crew have managed to pack out an upstairs room of a derelict pub in a not very nice part of town EVERY night that they’ve been open. It is a testament to power of simple pleasures. Well made, simple food, at a decent price. And when you combine this with the almost illicit vibe of the venue, it is for me a much more exciting and compelling proposition than say visiting Heston’s new venture.

Although the plan seems to be to use the proceeds from The Meateasy to buy a new Meatwagon (the previous one was stolen towards the end of last year hence the relocation in doors), having seen the kitchen in action and considering it’s popularity, I find it hard to believe that there won’t be a Meateasy restaurant of some sort very soon. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

According to the site, The Meateasy finally closes tonight (they may get an extension), so if you fancy a seriously good burger and all the trimmings get yourself down to the Goldsmiths Tavern, 316 New Cross Rd, London SE14 6AF between 6pm – 11pm tonight.

I guess that did kind of turn into a review of sorts. Sorry!

UPDATE: The Meateasy seems to have had a stay of execution, It’s now open until the 16th April.

I realised the other day that I hadn’t done a ‘Local Hero’ for AGES, and by chance I happened to pass The Market Coffee House the very same day. Serendipity in the truest sense.

When I was thinking about the whole ‘Local Hero’ side to this blog, The Market Coffee House was exactly the kind of place that I had in mind. Special, but unpretentious, and quietly plugging away at doing what they do best without all the bluster, PR and twitter noise that’s become so common.

I first started going to The Market Coffee House when I worked around the corner in Spitalfields what now seems like ages ago. Before the days of the Aussie and Kiwi coffee shops, the MCH was my go to place for a decent cup of coffee. Back then, it was the only café I can remember that had proper Baristas who took great care and attention over each and every cup. They also sold their coffees in the smaller cups that have now become more familiar. Quality over quantity before it was fashionable.

Another reason it’s one of my favourite places in London, is it’s atmosphere. Although it’s only been open as a coffee shop since 2001, it has such a warm, worn-in quality, that it feels like it could have been servicing the local area since Victorian times. The wood paneling, bare floorboards and original features make it really cosy, and as far from a modern coffee chain as you can get.

The food is good too. Until a year or so ago it was known more for simple, but always tasty stuff like bagels, sandwiches, crab salads, soups, and awesome cakes, but they have recently expanded the premises, including a ‘proper kitchen’, which means their offering is now much broader. When I heard that they were making the MCH bigger, I was a bit worried about the outcome, but I needn’t have been. The extension has been done with such sympathy and faithfulness to the original premises that it feels like it’s always been there, and the more substantial food likewise. It was the only choice for my wife and I to feed our post wedding hangovers.

As you might have guessed, I’m a big fan, so if you’re in the area, I strongly suggest you pop in for a coffee and a slice of something sweet at the very least.

This is a ‘Big Dog’ from Big Apple Hot Dogs on Old Street. It’s big and it’s tasty. If you’re in the area, go and get one. You won’t regret it.

My buddy Tom over at Nation has been working with Abiye, the man behind the dogs, on a new website, branding and all that jazz for his enterprise, and I’ve been helping him out with some well chosen words and some (hopefully welcome) thoughts on food branding.

There’s nothing to show you yet, but I’ve got to say, it’s a real joy when work and hobbies collide. I’ll be doing a proper post once the new look and feel is live, so until then, keep it locked.

In no particular order, my top ten Christmas picks that I’d love to find under my tree or in my stocking.

1.Le Creuset Casserole Dish – Le Creuset’s stuff is heavy, in both senses of the word. Cast iron, classic, and they seem to improve with age. I’ll take this shallow casserole dish in white, thanks.

2.Fire & Knives Subscription – Mine has run out, so I’d definitely like someone somewhere to renew my subscription to this excellent, and refreshingly different, food publication.

3.Global Vegetable Chopper – Global knives are probably not as fashionable as they used to be, but for my money (and they aren’t cheap) they are the best knives I’ve used. This veg chopper is like a mini cleaver, and would be a welcome addition to my collection.

4.Sipsmith’s Sloe Gin – I love a drop of Sloe Gin, and this stuff is produced by artisan distillers in Hammersmith, London, so it’s also means supporting a local, independent business. Win, win.

5.Ripailles – I’ve flicked through this French cookery bible a bunch of times in book shops, and everything in it looks amazing. The photography alone had my mouth watering within seconds.

6.Wesco Bread Bin – classic American style bread bin. I’ve wanted one for a while, but we really don’t have room for one in our already crowded kitchen.

7. Sausage Making Course – I did the Ginger Pig beef butchery class earlier in the year, which was ace, and I rather fancy a return visit to learn a bit about making bangers.

8. Dinner & Foraging at the Foxhunter – I’ve been wanting to go to Matt Tebbutt’s pub in Monmouthshire for ages, and combining a quality meal with an afternoon’s foraging sounds like my idea of a good day out.

9.Dualit Coffee Grinder – getting my coffee fix at Kaffiene at the weekends is tricky, so this burr grinder would get Square Mile or Monmouth coffee beans perfectly ground for my morning cup.

10. Neal’s Year Cheese – Christmas and cheese go hand in hand, and although this New Traditionals selection doesn’t have a Stilton, it would be a welcome, if not slightly smelly, addition under the tree.

It may make me less of a man, but when it gets a bit cold and festive like it is now, I’ve got to admit I’m pretty partial to a drop of Baileys.

So when the lovely people over at Baileys HQ offered to send me over a bottle of their new hazelnut flavour earlier this week, I couldn’t really say no. Like regular Baileys it’s sweet, creamy and warming, but with an added hint of nuts and caramel. It’s good stuff.

Unlike Old Gregg, I don’t drink my Baileys out of a shoe, I drink it out of a glass like decent folk, but I’ve also discovered you can use it make a really tasty accompaniment to mince pies.

Mix equal quantities of Crème fraiche and Baileys together (either hazelnut or regular), and then dollop  a good teaspoon full of the mixture on top of warmed up pies.

Simple and delicious.

So like I was saying, after Marrakesh we took a road trip out to the coast to Essaouira, which is a bit of a funny place. Known as Morocco’s windy city, it was a bit of a hippy hot spot in the 60s and reputedly visited by Hendrix. When you visit, you can see that it would have once been a really charming place, but it’s reputation as a chilled holiday spot has led to it being over developed, which is a bit of a shame.

To be honest, after Marrakesh it felt a bit like arriving in a faded seaside town like Hastings or Grimsby (no offense to the residents of either), but after spending a few days there, we both developed a soft spot for Essaouira, and this was in no small part due to what we ate.

Having been so spoiled for good food in Marrakesh, and falling in love with the stalls on Jamaa Al Fnaa, we thought that it would probably be downhill from there, but that really wasn’t the case. We ate really well in Essaouira, and discovered some great places to get stuffed.

The first meal we had was at one of the fish stalls near the sea wall. Probably the closest thing Essaouira has to the food stalls in Marrakesh, there are 30 or so of them that sell the catch of the day, each and every day, simply grilled over coals. The owners stand out of the front, showing off their wares and giving passers by the hard sell.

We picked one that we liked the look of, and ordered up some king prawns and a decent sized lobster. The meal came with a simple salad, plenty of baguette, chips, lemon wedges and a couple of soft drinks, all for around £25, which I think you’ll agree is pretty damn good value. The shellfish was fresh, and tasty as hell with that lovely smokey barbecue flavour. It was a very good start.

Strangely, the other two places that we really enjoyed both had an Italian leaning. The first, Silvestro, was an out and out Italian restaurant. Situated in a lovely rustic dining room above a shop, and run by an Italian dude and a chef, it looked pretty unassuming (sorry, I didn’t get any pics), but the food was far from it. For my starter I ate one of the tastiest things I’d had in a while, a kind of octopus ragu. The octopus meat was so tender, almost like mozzarella, the tomato sauce really rich and deep flavoured, and a few salty capers finished it off nicely. For main, we both at a seafood linguine. We had a table near the kitchen, so we could see the chef at work, and amazingly she made all the pasta by hand to order. The linguine was too huge to finish, but not because it wasn’t good. Packed with mussels, octopus, prawns and other sea beasties, with a lovely garlicy tomato sauce, it was a winner. Our review? Molto bene.

The other place, Elizir, was more of a Moroccan – Italian fusion, which is no way near as disastrous as it sounds. Again above some shops, the restaurant is a bit like a bohemian Milanese flat from the 60s. Stuffed full of kitsch, brightly coloured modernist furniture, stacks of old records, odd artifacts and copies of Italian Vogue, it’s a pretty surprising venue to find in the middle of Essaouira’s medina. It was so good we actually went two nights on the trot, but the best grub I ate there was a fantastic pumpkin soup that was garnished with local delicacy, the nutty Argan oil. An unusual chicken tagine cooked with pear and Gorgonzola. Again, I’m sure tha sounds odd, but was really interesting and tasty. And lastly, some fantastic sorbets. Having eaten plenty of traditional Moroccan food, it was really good to sample a more modern interpretation. If I’m ever end up in Essaouira again, I’d be there like a shot. Booking essential.

The one other thing we did whilst we were there which is worth mentioning, was an excellent half day cookery class at L’Atelier Madada. Led by the charming Nouredine and chef Mona, we learned how to cook an authentic Harira soup and a very tasty fish tagine. It was really good fun, and we got a couple of recipes out of it, which I will try to re-create soon.

So, as mentioned in the previous post, we hit Morocco for our honeymoon. If I’m honest, I don’t think I was that excited about the food as I’d heard mixed reports, and was led to believe there wasn’t much variation. I was kind of expecting expecting tagines, tagines and more tagines, but whilst there were certainly a lot of them about, there’s definitely more to Moroccan cuisine.

There were certain things that really struck us, the first being the amount of sugar the Moroccans use. It seems to be in pretty much everything, from bread to the ubiquitous mint tea, each glass of which must have more sugar than a can of coke. Check out the picture if you don’t believe me.

We were also surprised by the lack of heat in the food. We managed to uncover pockets of chilli here and there, but the Moroccan palate is clearly more about the flavour and combinations of spices as opposed to heat, which whilst tasty, I think we thought was a bit of a shame.

The French colonisation of Morocco is also pretty evident. Less so with the savoury grub on offer (although there are some good bistros around and they serve snails on a few Jamaa El Fnaa stalls), but more with their beloved sweet stuff. There are patisseries everywhere, that aside from a few rough edges, wouldn’t look that out of place in Paris. Insanely sweet almond stuffed pastries are also popular, and accompany most glasses of mint tea. I think my dentist would be a very rich man if I lived there.

Along with the Patisseries, I was also loving the local bakeries. As well as being commercial enterprises, the baker’s ovens also serve as a communal amenity. Locals bring down their bread, differentiated by their own tea towels, and throughout the day the bakers bake them in their wood fired ovens for a small fee. The whole practice has a really nice old fashioned, community feel to it.

The use of vegetables in the food, or rather lack of them, was also interesting. The Moroccan’s are definitely into all kinds of salads and raw veg, but when it comes to cooked dishes like tagines, they are pretty rare. Fruit, either fresh, dried or preserved seems to take the place of vegetables, again lending either a sweetness, or in the case of the very tasty preserved lemon, a tangy piquancy.

Finally, Morocco being a poor country, nothing goes to waste. The long, slow cooking of the tagine obviously lends itself to the tougher cuts of meat, and walking around Jamaa El Fnaa, you can see the locals are clearly not squeamish when it comes to offal. Sheep’s head soup anyone?

That’s it for now, but I’m going to do a couple more posts going into a bit more detail on how we filled our bellies in Marrakesh and Essaouira, and then at some point I’ll share a couple of recipes we picked up along the way.

Photo by Sam Frost ©2010 sam@samfrostphotos.com

We had a cracking wedding with our grub supplied by the AMAZING Arnold & Henderson (huge thanks to Martin and Margot), and then a brilliant two weeks in Morocco, taking in Marrakesh, Essaouira, the desert and the High Atlas.

We ate like kings pretty much throughout and have the waistlines to prove it, so I’ll be posting on this and more soon.

See you shortly.

Just got back from a not long enough weekend in Paris.

My good lady was out there all last week working for ‘the man’ on the auto show, so I Eurostar-ed it over on Friday night to pay her a visit.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’m Francophile, and love Paris in particular. Obviously the food is a big part of this for me, but it’s not always the big meals you have that make you realise how much you love a place’s culture. Sometimes it’s the simple things, like the breakfast we had on Saturday morning. We went to a cafe across the road from our hotel and just had coffee and a croissant. But, saying ‘just’ would be doing it a disservice. The croissant was amazing. Fresh as a daisy, light fluffy, and tasted amazing. It really didn’t need any jam or butter. Miles apart from the hard and heavy buggers we get over here.

I also love the fact that the French café is a cornerstone of society. Sure the places around the main attractions are stuffed to bursting with tourists hemorrhaging cash, but there are cafés on pretty much every street which are the equivalent of caffeinated drop in centres for the local community. Locals stop in for a coffee and a chat on their way into work, or drop by for a quick lunch or an aperitif and a smoke on their way home. It’s really great to see places that aren’t chains thriving.

Other highlights include an amazing slab of Fois De Veau at Boucherie Roulière in St. Germain, a winning Croque Madame at Le Sancerre in Monmartre, and stumbling across the amazing Saturday morning food market on avenue Président Wilson.

The latter in particular made a really big impression on us. It didn’t feel like the kind of over priced farmers market that services the well heeled Guardian reading media types of Stoke Newington, Borough or Wimbledon I may be being harsh here), but a place where ‘real’ people do their food shopping. Unlike London, where there’s increasingly a Tesco Metro or Sainsbury’s Local on every street, Paris doesn’t really have that many supermarkets, so markets like these are still an important part of life. And the display of food on show was mind blowing. Piles of fresh Langoustines, amazing looking bread, and tables overflowing with Autumnal crops of ceps and girolles. There was a clear sense of pride in both produce and presentation.  It had us fantasising about what we’d cook if we lived around the corner, which I kind of wish I did.

Maybe one day…

I first heard about The Meatwagon a few months ago on the BBC 4’s Food Programme, and subsequently on a number of blogs. It seems to have become the stuff of legend pretty quickly, and for those into their food, you can understand why. The story goes that the owner of the wagon, Yianni, quit his job and headed for the US to research the perfect burger. He toured the length and breadth of the country (I may be embellishing here) picking up recipes, tips and tricks until he thought he’d cracked it. He then returned to London, formula in hand, bought a food truck and then hit the road spreading the good burger word. Insane and inspiring in equal measure.

Until last week, his burgers had evaded my jaws, but when I heard that he was pitching up at The Ship pub near me, I knew I had a date with meaty destiny, particularly as Yianni had picked up ‘Best Sandwich’ at the British Street Food Awards the previous weekend. As we approached the wagon, for some reason we felt a sense of trepidation, the kind you get when approaching an illegal rave. Would there be a huge queue? Would there be any meat left? What were we going to do if we couldn’t get our fix?

Luckily, we were early enough to avoid disappointment. When we arrive we’re told we can have a cheeseburger, bacon cheeseburger, chilli burger or a ‘dead hippie’, their version of a big mac. We placed our order, were given a numbered ticket and then watched the man himself work his magic, and it’s quite a process.

Step one, Yianni gets the meat out of the fridge, which is freshly ground 28 day old steak and nothing else. He forms a ball of the meat around the size of a lime, and then squashes it onto the wagon’s  hot plate with the palm of his hand until it’s about a centimeter thick. He then presses his thumb into the centre to create a dimple. To be honest, I couldn’t work out why, but I’m assuming it helps keeps any toppings in place. Next he season the patties with a generous sprinlking of salt and freshly ground pepper.

After a minute or so, the patties get flipped and then acquainted with the cheese. Each burger gets two slices of what looks like processed cheese squares, but on asking we’re told that it is in fact real cheese, and is his secret ingredient. If you’ve ordered a bacon cheeseburger or chilli burger the  extra toppings are added next. The chilli is a loose relish made of green chillies, butter and stock, and the bacon a small patty of shredded boiled bacon, fried until crispy on the hot plate.

The next stage is the most surprising bit. The bun lids (white sourdough) are placed on top, and then Yianni produces a number of cloches and covers the burgers with them. He then lifts up the side of each of them, and squirts a small amount of water underneath and places back down. Not really sure why he does this, but am assuming that the steaming brings the buns back to life and helps meld everything together.

A few seconds later and the burgers are off the grill, and placed on top of the bun bases that have been lovingly prepared with American mustard, ketchup, lettuce, red onion and chunky gherkins. We did have to wait about an hour for our burgers, but I’ve got to say, it was well worth it. We sampled the chilli, bacon and cheese, and straight up cheese burgers. All were seriously tasty. The chilli relish was spicy, tangy but also really clean tasting. The bacon crispy, tasty and not too salty. But I think my favourite was the cheese burger. The lack of other toppings meant you could really taste the meat, which was pink, moist and seriously delicious. The cheese really complimented the taste, as did the gherkins which were gently pickled. I’m honestly salivating whilst typing this. We didn’t try the ‘dead hippie’, but that will give us something to look forward to next time we pay Yianni a visit.

I remember tweeting a while ago that I thought that Byron made the best burgers in the UK, but I think they’ve now been knocked off the top spot. You can follow The Meatwagon on twitter to find out if he’s going to be in your hood, which I hope for your sake and mine is soon.

Apologies for the quality of the pics, it was a bit dark by the time we ate.

The blurb on the back does it much more justice than I ever could, so I’ve transcribed it for you lucky people. “Stargazey pie, Cheshire cheese, toffee apples, fish and chips, Sussex pond pudding, Cumberland sausages, pasties, gingerbread, dumplings and Cox’s orange pippins are just some of the edible delights in this gorgeous celebration of English food from across the country and its history. From the etiquette of afternoon tea to the origins of mince pies, from the best way to eat Stilton to how to cook a proper Yorkshire pudding, here are both well-loved favourites and unsung heroes from the nation’s mouth-watering heritage”.

Well worth a look if you come across it.

But anyway, I was listening to the excellent ‘In Search Of Stoney Jackson’ by Strong Arm Steady on my way into work this morning, and aside from the top notch Madlib production I remembered there’s this quality food related number on the album, so I thought I’d share it. Enjoy.

The rest of the album is quality too, so go buy a copy from your local independent record store.

The Great British Fry Up is a thing of beauty when done right, and probably one of the most disappointing food experiences when it’s cocked up. These days the classic fry up at a ‘greasy spoon’ has increasingly been replaced by the ‘posh’, expensive version served in gastro pubs and the like, and many of the old school cafés have gone with it. Earlier in the year, an old favourite caff of mine, Rossi’s in Spitalfields, closed its doors after 50 plus years of serving happy punters. A sad day.

So when you find a cafe that nails the classic British Fry Up, it’s something to be cherished. And The Regency Cafe in Pimlico / Victoria is one of those places. It’s definately in the mould of a ‘greasy spoon’, but it’s much more than that, and there’s not a deep fried sausage in sight.

Even from the outside you can tell The Regency is a special place. It’s has a really classic deco look to it, decked inside and out in original Edwardian tiles, gingham half curtains in the window, and according to the date above the door it’s been going since 1946. You have to place your order before you sit down, don’t test the regulars by taking a seat when you arrive, and there’s plenty to choose from on the menu from egg and chips to liver and bacon.

We opted for the breakfast special with a side of the much neglected bubble & squeak and a typical British caff ‘frothy coffee’. The breakfast came with egg, bacon, sausage, tomatoes, two toast and the bubble. The egg was fried to perfection, the bacon thickly sliced and delicious, and the meaty, herby sausage (Lincolnshire I think) was one of the best I’ve had at breakfast. The bubble was great too, especially when drenched in egg yolk. In fact the only thing I regret was getting tinned tomatoes instead of grilled / fried. But you live and learn.

In terms of atmosphere, the place is more like an American diner than a traditional British caff. It’s got a real buzz about it, and the guy who bosses the till calls out the orders in this great, booming voice. We arrived at about a quarter past ten on Saturday morning, and pretty much as soon as we’d placed our orders and sat down, there was a queue out of the door.

The regency is a real gem, and I hope it keeps going strong for years to come. They also serve a dinner menu from 4 till 7pm, but I’ve never been there after breakfast time. Go and check it out.

One of the dishes that got my mouth watering the most was the tomato risotto he cooked in Venice. There was just something beautifully simple about the risotto and the tomatoes cooked in olive oil that made me want to give it a go. I’m sure there’s an accompanying book for the series, but I haven’t bought it, so this recipe is a approximation of what I saw of the idiot box. It worked for me, so should do for you too.

Ingredients (serves 2)

For the risotto

1 small onion, finely chopped

1 large celery stalk, finely chopped

100g arborio rice

100 ml white wine

1 litre vegetable stock

Handful of grated Parmesan (about 25g)

Olive oil

Unsalted butter

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the tomatoes

15-20 mini plum / cherry tomatoes, halved

1 large clove of garlic, finely chopped

10 basil leaves, torn

50 ml olive oil

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Method

First up, get your stock ready. Pour it into a pan, and get it on the heat so it’s just below boiling point. Next finely chop your onion and celery and then gently sweat in a pan containing a good glug of olive oil and a small nob of butter for about 10 minutes. The veg should become translucent as opposed to brown.

Whilst the veg is cooking, halve the tomatoes and add to a small pan with the oilve oil, garlic, basil leaves, salt and pepper. Stir them together and then put on a low heat. You don’t want to fry the hell out of the tomatoes, more soften them and let all the flavours in the pan infuse and meld together.

Once you’ve done this, you should be ready to add the rice to the onions and celery. Mix it all together, coating the rice with the oil. Add the white wine to the rice, stir in and let the alcohol burn off for a minute or so. You’re now going to start adding the stock. Do this a ladle at a time, stirring all the while. Stirring is an important part of the process, as it helps make the risotto creamy as it soaks up the stock. You don’t want to beat the mixture, more of a purposeful stir.

After 15-20 minutes of repeating this process, you should have used up most of the stock. The risotto should be loose and creamy, and the rice ‘al dente’ (not overly soft like rice pudding, still with some bite). At this point take it off the heat. Stir in the grated Parmesan, a small nob of butter, and salt and pepper to taste. Now cover the pan with a lid and leave the risotto to ‘relax’ for a couple of minutes.

Check your tomatoes. By now they should be nicely soft, and the olive oil should have take on a bit of their colour. Now take your tomatoes, and add them to the risotto, stirring them in gently, and then plate up.

Serve in bowls with a little drizzle of olive oil and a hunk of crusty bread.

The Herb Saver pretty much does what it says on the tin. I’m sure we’ve all had the experience of spending above the odds for a bunch of fresh herbs at the supermarket, only to find that two or three days later that they are wilted, soggy and unusable. For those of us without a River Cottage style herb garden and limited outside space, there aren’t many alternatives but to keep buying packaged herbs and dealing with the fact that some will go to waste. Until now.

The Herb Saver gets round the wilting issue by keeping the herbs cool and hydrated. You fill the bottom reservoir with cold water,  stand your herbs upright (stalks down) in the water, close them into the ‘chamber’ and then pop into the fridge.

In our experience, the herbs will keep at least three times longer that usual, which has got to be a good thing, right? I’m sure you could achieve similar results with a jam jar, but it also looks good, and fits perfectly into our fridge door.

You can buy the Herb saver on Firebox for £13, which means after a few weeks it will have pretty much paid for itself. Recommended.

Photo: MrLerone

Highs

1.Polpo – my new favourite restaurant. Very good Italian style tapas eating.

2.Sydney Breakfasts – just the bomb. I wish i could start every day Sydney style.

3.Whole Foods Market – the big one on Ken High Street is like heaven on earth.

4.Good Coffee – being shown what real coffee should taste like by Campos and Kaffeine.

5.Stuffed Courgette Flowers – still really chuffed about making these bad boys in France.

6.Engagement Dinner at Brasserie Balzar – the perfect Parisian place to pop the question.

7.Ramond Blanc’s Kitchen Secrets – for my money, the best cookery show of the past year

8.The Santa Barbara Shellfish Company – one of the standout meals from our California road trip.

9.Good Mexican Food – from Benitos Hat to La Super Rica the Mexicans have been killing it. Me gusta.

10.Birthday Dinner at Scott’s – very special, and Michael Barrymore was in the house. What more do you want?

Lows

1.Tierra Brindisa – my once favourite Soho restaurant has gone down hill. Sort it out lads!

2.Cattle class – feeling like rushed, harassed cattle by the service at The Wolseley.

3.The Delicious Miss Dahl – no idea how this got commissioned. A truly terrible, patronising, fake show.

4.Just Falafs going out of business  – really miss a decent falafel fix at lunch time. Please come back.

5.Borough Market Prices – its become a rip-off. Stuff there gets more expensive every time I go.

6.A.A Gill – Sunday Times food columnist. Self absorbed, pompous, objectionable, baboon shooting twat.

7.Sourdough skills – still not managed to make a good sourdough loaf yet. But I won’t stop till I succeed.

8.Byfords – supposedly one of the best restaurant in Holt. The deli cafe is good, but the restaurant is truly terrible.

9.Uncle Bens – this TV ad makes me want to murder people. Make it stop.

10. The Hairy Bikers – sorry fellas, but you continue to annoy the f**k out of me. How the hell did you get on TV!?!?

As people who read this blog will know, I’m not a huge fan of overly fussy food. 9 times out of 10 I’d rather eat a really well cooked roast chicken say, than some complex Heston-esque creation swimming in a sea of foam. There’s a certain pomposity that comes with this kind of food and the people, or so called ‘foodies’, who wax lyrical about it. But every once in a while it does one a bit of good to see how the other half live, especially if someone else is paying. In this case, my parents.

About half an hour’s drive from the villa my folks rented there’s a small village called Cruis. It’s a pretty unassuming little place, in many ways a typical French village, but we’d been told that the restaurant at the hotel in town was very good. Like the village, the Auberge De L’Abbaye didn’t look that special, plastic chairs and vinyl checked table cloths out on the veranda, so we were kind of unprepared for how good the food was.

The menu was succinct, but not limiting. Bursting with local meat, veg and seafood from slightly further afield, I could have happily eaten all of the dishes on the menu. I started with some local asparagus which was served with a qualis egg and kind of morel mushroom velouté sauce. The asparagus was firm, tender and delicious, the quails egg a nice touch, but the crowning glory was the sauce. Totally packed with the morel flavour, and with a few mushrooms scattered around the plate, it was deliciously rich. Many a mushroom soup could learn a lesson or two from that sauce.

To follow the asparagus I had ‘rabbit four ways’, which as you can see from the photo I got a bit excited about and ate half of before I remembered to take a photo. The four ways were a ‘lasagne’ of loin sandwiched between pieces of tomato , a beautifully succulent ballotine, rabbit confit served on a crispy disc of polenta, and a herb custed saddle. The dish was served with a super tasty Madeira sauce, some mange tout and pureed pumpkin.  Each element of the dish was delicious, and perfectly cooked, even the saddle which could have easily dried out. I could eat it all again now.

To end with I had the cheese plate, which featured some of the regions best cheeses, including the famous Banon goat’s cheese. It was good, but to be honest I wish I’d gone for what my parents had for dessert which was ‘La frambois dans tous ses etets’. Basically the raspberry equivalent of my rabbit dish, it comprised of lots of different mini raspberry based sweets including a crumble, ice cream and a tart. I tried a couple of the bits and they were amazing.

The food at the Auberge was definitely not simple, but neither was it fine dining. I guess it was more along the lines of classic French haute cuisine, and there wasn’t a trace of pomposity in sight. It was all very relaxed, the service was charming, and I wish I was there sitting on that terrace right now. If you’re in the area, I can highly recommend you pay Auberge De L’Abbaye a visit.

As mentioned in the previous post, my friends who run a lovely boutique B&B in Margate have asked me to contribute a dish for their breakfast menu, and this is it.

Lou and Liam opened the doors of The Reading Rooms last year after restoring the amazing grade II Georgian Town House where it’s situated and appearing on Ruth Watson’s Hotel Rescue on Channel 4. It’s a really relaxing and luxurious place. Insanely comfortable beds, stylish decor, beautiful bathrooms and they cook a mean breakfast too. And that’s where I come in.

As well as the full English and pastries on the menu, they’re going to offer this alternative to a warming winter porridge. The oats absorb most of the liquid, becoming lovely and plump, and the apple juice’s natural sugar means no need to add anything extra, unless you’ve got a sweet tooth. I like to serve it with chopped summer berries.

Ingredients (serves 2 / 3)

120g jumbo porridge oats

250ml apple juice

250g low fat natural yoghurt

2 apples, peeled and grated (I like granny smiths, but anything juicy with a bit of tang is good)

Seasonal fruit and honey to serve

Method

Mix together the oats, apple juice and yoghurt together in a bowl or Tupperware container with a lid. Next peel the apples, coarsely grate them and add to the oats. Mix well in, making sure as much of the the grated apple as possible is below the surface of the mixture , this will stop it from going brown. And thats kind of it. Super easy.

As you’ll see, the mixture is pretty loose at this stage, but this will change. Put a lid on your Tupperware or cover your bowl with cling film, and then pop in the fridge for a good few hours or preferably over night. In the morning, the oats will have absorbed a lot of the liquid and puffed up making a much thicker consistency.

Divide the the mixture accross two bowls, and the serve with chopped seasonal fruit, and if required a bit of honey to sweeten.

Healthy, delicious and best eaten overlooking Hawley Square towards the sea.