mudchute kitchen

City girls like me are easily excited at the prospect of seeing animals down on the farm. And if the farm just so happens to be a mere DLR ride away, even better! So last Sunday I dragged my flatmates off “to see the aminals”, and they obliged like a pair of world-weary parents. It just so happened that I really wanted to go eat at Mudchute Kitchen as well, what with all the good reviews it has gotten for its simple but really delicious food (and apparently the best cream tea this side of the river).

Tasty Treats! I saw it as a sign… literally. Ha ha ha!

It was the day of the London Marathon, and unfortunately for both the runners and us, it was pouring. Still, my enthusiasm couldn’t be squashed, and we went around squeaking at the cows, goats (even if they have evil square eyes), chickens, turkeys, bunnies, guinea pigs, ducks, ferrets and more! A sprawling land of greenery, it’s hard to believe you’re in London – until you see the silver skyscrapers of Canary Wharf peeking out over the hills, that is.

As it would have it, the moment we had finished roaming the farm and were about to take refuge from the rain and gloom, the sun came out and shone for the rest of the afternoon. Still, we happily trooped into Mudchute Kitchen (near the horses’ stables) and pondered over the menu that features rustic, homecooked dishes and phenomenal desserts – the coffee and cardamom cake with the jewel-like pomegranate seeds caught my eye immediately, though I ceded it to C, who gobbled the entire slice up within minutes (not before I had a massive mouthful myself – what gorgeous cake. Soft and creamy with the icing, and the cardamom blending perfecly with the coffee flavours. I bought a slice to takeaway with me when we left).

Ravenous as I was, I had to go for something filling and delicious – a bacon tart with radish salad sounded perfect, though I never expect much from tarts. To me, they’re always too dry, too mushy or just bland. But I was hungry, and the other special, houmus, really wasn’t going to cut the mustard at that point.

But what a delightful surprise this bacon tart was – a giant fat slice appeared on the plate, and every bite was bursting with savoury and substantial pieces of bacon and fragrant herbs, with just the right amount of cheesiness. Quite possibly the best thing I’ve had in a while. And you can’t really go wrong with a crunchy, refreshing radish salad on the side made with good-quality, fresh ingredients. There was no trace of bitterness from the radishes, which can often happen with old or poor quality versions; every bite was sweet and crisp. Wow, this is getting a bit too poetic.

And it didn’t end there: I stole a bite of L’s lemon poppy seed cake (above right), and it was also magnificent. Fluffy, moist cake with subtle citrus flavours and fragrant vanilla. Again, gobbled up before I could steal a second bite. All this food was washed down with a wonderfully brewed homemade chai tea, which was rich with plenty of cardamom (you could see them swimming in the teapot), cinnamon, ginger and cloves. Smooth and creamy and generally faultless. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than enjoying the treats at Mudchute Kitchen after a day’s frolicking with the animals.

Addendum: just to reiterate a fact from before, goats have square eyes (or square irises, if you’re being technical). All in all rather disturbing (as cute as the baby goats were).

Mudchute Kitchen
Mudchute Park & Farm, Pier Street, Isle of Dogs
London E14 3HP
020 7515 5901
www.mudchute.org

be a thrifty foodie

I really need to invest in some new tea towels/placemats!

I should have mentioned this weeks ago, but Amazon are doing a 40% off Le Creuset’s satin blue range. I ordered my 18cm one and am super happy with it (the only problem is that I think I should have shelled out for the next size up – it’s perfect for cooking for myself – posts to follow about what I made with it! – but not for more than one hungry person!), and I adore the colour. Thank god it’s not 40% off Le Creuset’s blinding orange range, which just isn’t my cup of tea… I love how Amazon just sent me a dedicated email announcing the sale; I really must have been clicking around on the homeware section more often than normal!

If anyone has some good tips or recipes using their Le Creusets, please do share them.

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Also, the booking period for London Restaurant Week (London Restaurant Fortnight, really!) began today. You can get two courses for £15 at lunch, or three courses at £25, at some pretty spiffy restaurants. I’ve got my eye on Nahm, David Thompson’s acclaimed Michelin-starred Thai restaurant. Get booking if you so desire!

onsen tamago

I don’t know when the obsession started, but I began dreaming about hot spring eggs (onsen tamago) a week or so ago. I blame Amy and all her wonderfully documented meals in Japan. Even more so when I discovered that it was so simple to make yourself at home. Short of a hot spring in your backyard, an onsen tamago is only ever a few short steps away (as long as you’re making rice in a rice cooker in the first place, that is).

Backtracking a bit – some of you might be wondering “What the heck is onsen tamago anyway?” The short answer is that it’s a gorgeous egg dish that’s commonly served as a breakfast item at hot springs hotels in Japan. The reason being that the temperatures of the hot springs (ie below boiling point) are perfect for poaching these eggs so lightly that they just become ethreally silky and just slide lusciously down your throat. It also works so that the yolks are set on the outside, but the whites are only loosely set and creamy. Essentially, the eggs are ‘poached’ inside the shells; when they’re ready, you crack it open into a bowl filled with a mixture of dashi, mirin and soy sauce, sprinkle over some spring onions, and slurp it all down. It’s fascinating that such a simple dish can be so satisfying (though those of you who feel squeamish at the thought of semi-raw eggs should turn away, now!).

So how do you make it? First thing would be to get the ‘broth’ ready for your egg. All I did was use a teaspoon of dashi powder dissolved in about 4 tablespoons of water, a teaspoon of mirin and a teaspoon of soy sauce. Mix together and leave to chill in the fridge until needed.

Clearly, it’s important to make sure you get the freshest eggs you can, and make sure they’re at room temperature (run under warm water if you take them straight out of the fridge and want to use immediately). Then, all you need is a rice cooker that’s just finished cooking some rice, and some kitchen paper. Because I was steaming rice for dinner anyway, this all worked out fine.

Once the rice has finished cooking, the rice cooker will automatically switch to the handy ‘keep warm’ function – which coincidentally maintains the perfect temperature for making onsen tamago. All you need to do then is wrap the egg in a layer of kitchen paper (this is just to make sure the eggs aren’t heated directly) and set it gently on top of the cooked rice. Cover, and leave to ‘cook’ for one hour. When time’s up, gently crack your egg open and let it slide into the dashi/soy sauce/mirin mixture you’ve made in advance. Sprinkle over some chopped spring onions, and, if you’re feeling particularly decadent, a few bonito flakes. Slurp it all down in one go a la prairie oysters, or eat the egg white and yolk separately in spoonfuls. The egg whites take on a super silken tofu-like texture, which is extremely yummy and even better when eaten with the broth.

Too bad I didn’t get to experience the entire egg yolk, considering I dropped it after taking the first photo on the left! I managed to salvage half. The things I do for this blog…

The much harder way to make onsen tamago is to keep a pot of warm water going at the constant temperature of 65C for 20-30 minutes while you cook the eggs, but that requires way too much patience and a thermometer (both of which I do not have). Another way, I’ve heard, was to fill a thermos full of hot water and keep the egg in it overnight, so you can have it the next morning! Not so sure about that one though, it seems like leaving a semi-warm egg overnight and then eating it seems like you’re just asking for food poisoning.

patterson’s

For a friend’s birthday dinner, we decided to go to Patterson’s in Mayfair. Well, maybe ‘decided’ is a bit of a wrong term, considering I myself wouldn’t have chosen the place unless I’d come into lots and lots of money. But, as it turns out, my fellow diners were being equally thrifty and had decided on the venue not only because two of the group previously had excellent meals there, but that both Time Out and Toptable were doing ‘50% off your bill’ deals. Phew! I’ve gotta confess that I always feel really out of place in fine dining restaurants, but overall the experience was rather mellow and the meal was enjoyable.

Our little amuse bouche came in the form of asparagus soup served in a tiny espresso cup, with a tiny ball of arancini skewered and balanced on the cup with a toothpick. Cute, and I wish I’d taken a photo of it!

Deciding between all the options for starters was difficult – I was also tempted by the Roast lobster and langoustine salad with a pea, broad bean and roasted garlic dressing and the Squab breast on potato and apple parmentier, with foie gras parfait and madeira jelly. In the end, I opted for the Slow roast belly pork with red cabbage, cauliflower purée with a seared scallop and thyme jus. Because who can resist soft, tender pork belly? And scallops?

The beautiful presentation was impressive. I was slightly disappointed with the pork belly – the meat was dry and not tender at all, and almost a bit chewy. The red cabbage on top was interesting; the combination with the pork belly reminded me of a favourite dish of mine, pork belly with preserved vegetables! The salty, slightly tangy cabbage with the pork was really reminiscent of the dish. The scallop was perfectly seasoned and cooked.

My main was Pink confit saddle of lamb with cauliflower wheat, dauphinoise potato and provençal vegetables. I’d been deciding between the beef course (which two other people ordered, and came rare and gorgeous and juuuuicy-looking), the lamb and the Barbary duck (but went against it considering I don’t really like glazed carrots or fennel). This course was slightly disappointing, with the lamb not being as tender as I’d expected it to be. The cauliflower wheat was surprisingly good, and a little bit like couscous (which I love and cannot wait to eat more of come spring/summer!).

I can’t even explain how much I look forward to puddings at every meal. This time, I decided to have dessert, even though I had full knowledge that my friend A had bought a massive double chocolate cake from Patisserie Valerie to finish off the meal. Somehow, everyone else couldn’t resist either and also ordered desserts. Most went for the Valrhona chocolate fondant with iced double cream, but I had to go for the french toast brioche (maybe memories of 202’s french toast?) with the berries and peach thyme sorbet. It was delicious, and oh so light, though I think the french toast could have been a bit crisper – it was more like a pancake than french toast in that sense. I couldn’t really discern much thyme in the sorbet, but ’twas nice nonetheless. Unfortunately, I was too late in swiping a taste of the chocolate fondant from my neighbours because (1) I was too enthralled with my own dessert, and (2) they gobbled it up in no time. Birthday girl C’s plate came with a chocolate ‘Happy Birthday’ message written across the plate, which was very sweet of them.

Overall the bill came to £37 per head, which is more than I’ve ever spent on a meal of my own accord, but then it did include a very expensive bottle of 2003 Châteauneuf-du-Pape (£46!?! … which was wasted on my amateur palate, methinks). It would have come to far more without the 50% discount. Horrifying. I know, I’m a pennypincher!

Patterson’s
4 Mill Street, Mayfair
London W1S 2AX
020 7499 1308

let’s do brunch, dahling, at 202 café

It’s been a while since I’ve touched this blog, but I figured I needed to write something to get the ball rolling again. And what better to begin than at the beginning? And when I mean beginnings, I mean that all-important first meal of the day – breakfast. Or for those more inclined to stay in bed until at least half 10, brunch. And, does anyone else dream about what they’re going to eat when they wake up, just before they go to sleep? I’d made a pledge to go to breakfast/brunch on Sunday morning, and with 202 Café’s menu drifting around in my mind like counting sheep, I couldn’t wait to hop on that train (and tube, and more tube, and walking…) to get there and stuff my face with lots of carbs and wash it all down with copious amounts of maple syrup and tea.

So we merrily put on our best rags (from the east end to the west end, ooh la la!) and braved the gloom and doom and rain. We arrived there just after 11, which was fortunate as we were seated after a few minutes by very chirpy staff. We sat down on pretty little rustic wooden tables, flanked by those with perfect hairdos, v-necked sweaters, wire-rimmed glasses and the sort (and of course the obligatory pram) and ordered drinks – pretty standard cappuccino and earl grey for my companions, and a ‘caribe’ herbal tea pour moi – a black tea infused with guava and strawberry. Was very tempted by the pomegranate oolong but had snootily thought to myself that if I wanted pomegranate oolong, I probably could have bashed open a pom and threw its seeds into my cuppa. So I went for the caribe. Obviously.

No less than 30 seconds from ordering, another waiter came by and chirped happily at us, asking if we’d like to order any drinks. And again (another waitress). Then again (someone else entirely). Which was all very nice, but when we actually wanted to order we couldn’t find a single crisp-shirted, Hollywood-white clad waiter/waitress willing to bestow us with their presence again. Ah well, all was sorted and then we (mentally) clasped our hands together like Mr Burns and eagerly awaited our grub. Had a peer around the room to assess the crowd, and met eyes with George Alagiah. Swanky.

It was a bit difficult choosing between all the delicious sounding breakfast items on the menu: prosciutto and manchego omelette; warm chorizo, roast potato, spinach and egg salad; ricotta and spinach omelette; porridge with cream, sultanas and honey. But in the end we went with the buttermilk pancakes with fruit compote and creme fraiche; the 202 bagel with smoked salmon, cream cheese, capers and onion; and for myself, the french toast with bacon and maple syrup. I’d heard many good things about the french toast, and how can one go wrong with eggy bread, bacon and maple syrup? At this point you’d probably expect the blog to take a turn for the worse, with me shrieking in despair about how 202 had ruined bacon and maple syrup for me forever, but fear not my dear readers. ‘Twas not the case. At all.

It’s definitely no looker, though.

But the bacon was superb and had a very nice chargrilled, smokey flavour. The french toast was a bit difficult to cut into because of the crust, but inside was pillowy soft and yielded even more to my eager incisors when drenched with sweet, sweet maple syrup. Real maple syrup. I am Canadian and I know good maple syrup when I guzzle it. Bacon and maple syrup go together like prosciutto and melon, I swear (and apparently, lemon juice and prosciutto, a flavour combination let onto me by a French woman at a café the other day – so enlightening!).

The pancakes were good but not as good as when I make them, har har! I just thought they weren’t as fluffy as they should be. But my real caveat was with how little pancakes they served for £6.95 – two measley discs! I also felt they were a bits stingy with the amount of creme fraiche and blueberry compote. I felt positively horrible as I chowed down with my big fat thick chunks of eggy french toast, dripping with maple syrup and sandwiched with three large slices of meaty bacon – for the same price – while my friend began to look all pale and wan again a little while after she’d finished her pancakes, like someone who hadn’t eaten at all (we are big eaters in our household).

We were all very impressed by the bagel and smoked salmon though – no skimping on the salmon or cream cheese here! However, we wished the bagel was bigger, or that there was more of it to mop up all the cream cheese with. But on the bright side, lots of fresh, peppery watercress was much appreciated.

The fried green tomatoes, however, should have stayed in Dr Suess’s kitchen (okay, I know it’s green eggs ‘n’ ham and not tomatoes, but you know what I mean!). A dry crust with the flavourless green tomatoes was not the way to go. Reading the menu after, we were surprised that the dish description included ‘chillies’ and ‘mozzarella’, which we didn’t register at all. Oh dear!

We did occasionally steal furtive glances at the tables next to us, who had piles of moist looking scrambled eggs and cute little fat chain links of grilled Italian sausages. But we were pleased. Very pleased, in fact. The service, while a bit dreamy at times, was good and the room is amazing. Did I forget to mention that the café is actually set inside a Nicole Farhi boutique? Eating delicious food surrounded by beautiful people sitting among beautiful clothes and furniture and other such frivolous things we in this humble profession wouldn’t even dream of purchasing. There was a doorman at the loo (and he held the door open for me, bless). By the time we left, the place had some rather big queues. So come early. Terry Durack said it best – “The only real problem is getting a table – unless you’re prepared to pay £4,000 for it.”

202 Café
202 Westbourne Grove
London W11 2RH
020 7727 2772