London Notes: Part 1 - Live Barbican

This post starts with a recommendation and ends with a plea for recommendations. I finally found out last week that after 30 years of London (with some short educational diversions) that I will, from 1 July 2010, be living elsewhere. I will be living in a city I have never visited. In a continent that I have only glimpsed. A place where I don't speak the language and I don't know anyone. However, before I blog off to Hong Kong I thought I would get all nostalgic about London and switch it up by doing one post a week distilling what I have learnt in 30 years of box ticking obsession in this city.

(Barbican towers)

My greatest recommendation would be "live Barbican" (if you can or at very visit it in earnest at some stage). If you have decided to live in London why would you not live in the City of London? And the distinction is important. Greater London contains Croydon; Fulham and Clapham. The City of London has Nelson's tomb; St Pauls; Smithfield; St Bartholomew's hospital; its Wards, Liverys and Guilds; the Inns of Court and Spitalfields (well Spitalfields is just in Tower Hamlets but it is owned by the City of London Corporation). The history, the buildings, the wealth, the experience; they are all concentrated here, right in the centre. And most importantly, right in its heart, built by and hidden inside millions of tonnes of concrete is the Barbican. Who could have believed that poured concrete could be so wonderful? Who would have thought that the very fact that the Barbican is an unknowable maze for all but residents makes it so particularly welcoming? If you live there, it is undeniably yours because no one else can find their way around it.

(Smithfields meat market)

Pizza Party

Before I moved to London, I would never have considered myself a pizza obsessive. I like pizza. I order it often. Is it one of my top three foods? No. But for some reason, I have made it my new mission.

Perhaps it's just more American bumptiousness, but in my opinion the English can't do pizza. And so I've taken it upon myself to figure it out. I've experimented with different ratios of flour to water to yeast. Rising time. Rolling techniques. Sauces. Toppings. Oven temperatures. Metal. Then stone.

Cafe Review: Caravan in Exmouth Market

Caravan doesn't need any more good reviews.  The world loves it.  It was already buzzing when we got there at the keeno time of 10:15am on a Saturday morning after a swim at Ironmonger Row.  What I find most interesting about Caravan and its antipodean ilk is what did people do on lazy Saturday and Sunday mornings before they arrived?  How did we survive without flat whites and Australian cafe food?

What most impressed me about Caravan was not the coffee (which was good but that isn't too hard to find these days) or the food (I'll come back to that) but the service.  It was there in spades.  The room was patrolled by two raven haired waitresses of not inconsiderable beauty who you could always catch the eye of.  Many places almost seem surprised by their success and the service turns to mush when they get busy; not Caravan. 

Theatre and Bar Review: Sutra at Sadler's Wells and 69 Colebrooke Row

Despite my name coming first in the blog title Jen maintains some pretty strict rules. I am not allowed to blog about my other passions (fixies, the Barbican and interactive theatre (or how bad jeggings are)). Still, every now and then food and the other stuff converges and provides me with an excuse to break the rules.

Sutra was a modern dance performance at Sadler's Wells which aimed to explore the "philosophy and faith behind the Shaolin tradition, its relationship with Kung-Fu and its position within a contemporary context". The set was 21 wooden boxes, akin to open coffins, designed by Antony Gormley which are pushed and pulled around the stage. The Shaolin Monks were led and interacted with a classical modern dancer. Pretentious much? Just like I love.

Restaurant Review: Queen's Head and Artichoke near Great Portland Street

I am quite lucky that this blog remains largely unloved by my nearest and dearest. Oh and people I work with. I mean, for instance, if my work colleagues read my review of the place we went for our Christmas party they might be a touch offended (still it was their fault, they chose it - Lena's on Curtain Road - here).

Similarly if one of my best friends realised that I had it in me to be disparaging about the place we went to celebrate his 30th birthday the other day, well it wouldn't be great would it?

So foolishly onto the Queen's Head and Artichoke gastropub up by Great Portland Street where we celebrated one of my oldest friend's decline for lunch. We didn't fit in. There was a fairly simple reason for this. We didn't bring a pram. We didn't bring a baby. We didn't bring Pampers. The Queen's Head and Artichoke is on the weekends, despite it being located in the centre of town, a geographical outpost of Stoke Newington High Street, East Dulwich or Primrose Hill and is absolutely flooded by kids.

Restaurant Review: 1901 in the Andaz Hotel in Liverpool Street

Well after a week skiing in the Austrian Alps I might be expected to put up a post regaling you with a story about some cute little restaurant I found half way up a mountain. However, as anyone who has been skiing generally in the Alps will know good food is hard to find.

The Savoie region offers a bit of melted cheese action and I even got to visit a Michelin starred restaurant in Val Thorens a while ago that was rather good (a restaurant called L'Oxalys) but Austria skips all of that and goes for (i) beer (ii) bad but good fried food or (iii) just plain bad food accompanied by strange Germanic beer hall singing. Great fun though. In fact Kipferl in Smithfields does far better Austrian food (here).

Therefore it is straight onto 1901 at Andaz in Liverpool Street which only managed to offer fancy attempts at food whilst desecrating its surroundings.

Chicken Stew with Pancetta, Carrots, and Chickpeas

Day 5 and the "no carb, no dairy" saga continues. There is something strange about cooking on a restricted diet. It actually makes things surprisingly simple. I've noticed there's a reoccurring theme to most of these recipes. Olive oil, lemon, salt and pepper. If you have those four ingredients, you can pretty much do whatever you like.

I was going to switch things up last night and make some sort of Asian inspired dish with lots of greens, but the drizzly weather made me crave something a bit more comforting. Winging it once again, I concocted this hearty, yet healthy chicken stew. And it was so good, I actually ate two bowls!

Roasted Sea Bass with Yellow Tomatoes, Radicchio, and Crispy Bacon

So this is day 4 of "no carbs, no dairy" week. What happened to day 3, you ask? Well, I had a bit of a bender and gave into temptation. Day 3 was met with a visit to Boho Mexica, and I sank about five small corn tortillas in addition to some chips and guacamole.

Other than this small moment of indiscretion, I have been practicing my discipline with the utmost care and precision. I have eaten more leafy greens this week than I have in my entire lifetime. And well, let's just say I've seen the results first hand, and it's been "productive". I was so shocked the other day that I almost thought it required documentation, although that would have been a step too far. The good news is, I am feeling great. I actually might continue this crazy experiment for another week just for shits and giggles.

Prawns with Roasted Red Peppers, Anchovy, Pancetta, and Smashed White Beans

It's the second day of "no carb, no dairy" week. For moral support, I roped my flatmate into this scheme. It's only day two, and yet we have already started nerding out by emailing each other during the day wondering if the other has given into temptation.

I have to say, lunch isn't all that bad. I've resorted to making salads in the office kitchen, and I have adopted some survivor-like methods. In the morning, I snatch the only sharp knife with the duct tape covered handle to cut my lemons, and I store my olive oil and salt and pepper in the edit suite so no one will steal them. Yes, this is living folks.

But my nemesis has become that damn bag of nuts and raisins. The purchase was originally made to curb my doughnut habit. What was the best intention is now a new addiction. I have become an urban squirrel, feverishly chomping away until I've half emptied the bag and I'm 400 calories heavier.

Balsamic Roasted Chicken Thighs with Chili Courgettes

While Tom is off frolicking in the mountains, it's become my responsibility to keep the blog rolling. Rather than just come up with random recipes for the week, I thought I'd assign myself a task. This time, a new direction. I will try to embrace a different kind of cooking -the healthy kind.

For the past few months, I've been rolling like a happy pig in a pen filled with American comfort food. Nachos, burgers, po'boys, mac 'n cheese, and pizza. Everything I've made has been full of love but also full of fat. So, I've decided to give up the two things I love best -complex carbohydrates and dairy. And when it comes to protein, fish or chicken must be the main event. I've made the chicken below countless times as it's an easy and quick supper when you've had a late night at the office. Seeing as this is the first day of my carb-free challenge, I decided to create a pasta illusion by peeling the courgettes into very thin ribbons. Nothing too crazy, but tasty, simple, and (what I think) qualifies as healthy.

Cafe Review: Towpath cafe on Regent's Canal

I am off skiing tomorrow for a week so before I leave the blog to the tumbleweed of Jen's posts I thought I would do a quick one on the Towpath cafe off Regent's Canal as this is one she found whilst jogging.

When the rain finally stopped a couple of weeks ago we popped in.  It isn't much.  But in a good way.  A hole in the industrial buildings which edge Regent's Canal which was already humming at 10:30am on Saturday morning.  It should really only work in the summer when you can bathe in the heat and watch people wander up and down the forlorn canal.  But for some reason, even in the cold, it still sings.

I think it is because what they do they do well.  We had a light breakfast and every dish worked.  From good quality bread with tasty jams to pear with oats and yoghurt.  The coffee was pretty decent as well.  Having read a review by Time Out since we went I now know that it is the child of an Italian American food writer (Lori De Mori) and her photographer husband (Jason Lowe) and their influence has done great things with the place.  I am already looking forward to queuing up there in the summer to have a more substantive meal.  It is also refreshing to find a place which uses the canal and its desolate nature to its advantage rather than giving you one of the worst experiences it is possible to bestow (hint hint The Water House - here).

However, it is a probably a place to try and catch now when the weather doesn't quite suit its location as it will get very very very busy and popular.  Even in the winter, as you settle in and watch people drab by its charm catches you.

Price - £10ish

Restaurant Review: Civet Cat Supper Club in Newington Green

For some reason I have spent a couple of weeks deliberately not writing a review of my evening at Civet Cat Supper Club (CCSC). There is a good reason for this. It is because I have been searching for a word and I have finally found it. That word is "local". CCSC is a fantastic "local" (and I say this deliberately) restaurant.

Restaurant Review: Viet Grill "the Vietnamese Kitchen" on Kingsland Road (surprise)

I used to eat a lot more Vietnamese food. In fact the first Vietnamese restaurant I ever went to was The Viet Grill (VG) about 15 or so years ago. It was one of the original wave of Vietnamese restaurants which non Vietnamese people visited and began the growth of Vietnamese restaurants down the Southern tip of Kingsland Road.

However, I then had the good fortune to travel to Vietnam which spoiled my desire to eat Vietnamese food in London any more. The big difference - the revelation - for me in Vietnam was the way in which the leaves, the herbs and the vegetables complimented the fried, the brothy and the unhealthy bits of the meal. You don't just eat a spring roll, you wrap it in a leaf and then bite in (oh and dip it as well). The crisp clean leaf, the fried outside of the spring roll and then the hot crunchy and spicy inside. Perfect. Texture heaven. In London we don't have access to the proper leaves and it just isn't as good.

Cafe Review: Tina We Salute You in Dalston

Tina We Salute You (TWSU) is already on any sensible coffee fan's tour of London.  The one shame about it is that it is up and away in the residential bit of Dalston.  This is a bit away from anywhere unless you already reside up there and wheel your prams around Newington Green and Stoke Newington Church Street on weekends.  It makes it a place for locals rather than coffee tourists or people who just want to pop in.

That said, I would still suggest a trip up there as it is a wonderful place to take your time in.  If you have a morning free on a weekend I would buy a copy of the Observer or Independent (the Times or Daily Mail just wouldn't work) and go up there to nestle in with the paper and munch their snacks and drink their perfect coffee.

There isn't really much else to say about the place.  It is replete with charm.  The staff are great (and remembered my order from when one of them used to work down on Pitch 42) and they have benches which you can perch on outside in the sun (not that often in London but still...).

Price - £2.00 for a flat white

Restaurant Review: Trail Of Our Bread supper club in Dalston

It is a relief when you can be concise; our night at Trail Of Our Bread (TOOB) last Saturday will be one of the best nights I have this year.  If you like food and know how to get to London Fields without a map go here and beg for a place as you won't regret it.

I can think of no supper club (bar The Pale Blue Door but then it did have Rusella the drag queen - review here) where I have had so much raw fun.  This was only the TOOB's third supper club, it cost a mere £20 but it was blow you away good.  This was not about money, rep or anything else, it was about a passion for food.  And it showed.

We committed guest sacrilege by turning up early as the rain forced us into a cab.  There can be nothing worse than guests turning up early when you are having that final panic before everyone arrives but there we were, sober and judgmental.  This didn't phase TOOB at all and I was allowed to assist with the stereo system and Jen was allowed to assist by drinking white wine.  This gave us all the more time to appreciate the decoration.  Their flat is the kind of thing "Friends" would be set in nowadays if it was called "Hipsters" and was set in Dalston.*  Industrial relaxed cool warehouse chic.  And then it had been attacked by a briliant set designer with a sense of fun.  Jelly fish dripped from the ceiling with lights blinking at us.  A painted mermaid stared out us from the edge of the room.  Toy fish nestled on our plates.  Passion and effort were embedded and baked into the flat.

Restaurant Review: Ben Greeno at (Nuno Mendes') The Loft

This review starts by asking a question no one has bothered asking yet but is a fairly fundamental one.  Why read my reviews?  Well, the answer starts out simple but rambles a bit.

I have no financial interest in anything I review.  I blog because I enjoy it.  I have never been offered, accepted or asked for something free. I have no desire to set up an Underground Restaurant or a Supper Club because I have no desire to ever be judged by people such as me.  I have nothing to parcel, nothing to market, nothing I am personally invested in and no-one I feel compelled to talk up.  This blog is not and will not be monetised.  My industry and future is as far separated from the world of food as it is possible to be.

Southern Style: Fried Chicken, Mac 'n Cheese, and Spinach with Parmesan and Cream

I am not Mario Batali. I am not Anthony Bourdain. I am not Marcus Samuelsson. I say this not because I cannot cook. I say this because I cannot cook and then party like a rockstar afterwards. Batali used to finish off a case of wine in one evening. Bourdain was a heroin addict. I have heard through the chef grapevine that Samuelsson has an insane coke habit. And I get it. Intense environments sometimes require equally intense methods of release.

Last night I continued the fat trend with a Southern style dinner party with fried chicken, mac 'n cheese, and spinach with parmesan and cream. I was cooking for six people I hadn't really cooked for before, and so my culinary nerves were tweaking. What better way to take the edge off than with wine? Once I finally slide those plates on the table I needed to celebrate my success. I poured myself more wine. And more wine, and more wine, and more wine.

Non-Fusiony Asian Shrimp Po' Boys with Red Cabbage Slaw

I happened to glance at Tom's "about us" today and had to laugh. He's written "fusiony Asian" recipes. Perhaps this is due to the fact that I look rather fusiony Asian, and he just got confused. So far, from most of the recipes I've posted, you would think I'm a 45-year-old, male bricklayer from Kansas who loves muscle cars, American football, and BBQ. Well actually, the last half is true.

You wouldn't think it to look at me, but I love fat. As far as I'm concerned, the more butter, cheese, and greasy goodness -the better. Sure, the fusiony Asian stuff does make an appearance from time to time, but lately I've been on a comfort food kick, especially those of the American variety.

Last night I made my rendition of a Shrimp Po' Boy. In some parts, they call it "prawn", but we are talking American here, so "shrimp" it is. A po' boy or poor boy sandwich is classic, Louisiana style cooking. As the name suggests, it's nothing fancy. Just something tasty, fried to perfection, and shoved into a baguette. Sadly, I have never been to New Orleans, so I won't even touch the topic of authenticity, but I do like to think I've given it the respect it deserves.

Restaurant Review: Hart and Fuggle pop up restaurant off Brick Lane

There is a twitter and food blogging zeitgeist in London.  It tells you that @HawksmoorLondon is good for steak, @Beas_Bloomsbury does tea and @Moolis does, erm, moolis?  And, well, its spot on for that.

The zeitgiest also keeps you informed about up and coming things such as an exclusive pop up restaurant or a new supper club.  There is one problem with this - and it might just be my problem - that it comes with a peculiar form of blogging guilt.  I remember when I first went to Hawksmoor with an intent to blog I was nervous about whether I was going to have a good meal.  I didn't want to go, have a bad one, and then face the possibility that I was going to offend someone (i.e. the person from Hawksmoor who tweets under the name of @HawksmoorLondon).  Luckily it was just as nearly every other meal I have had there; good and expensive (review here).

Now that fear has remained but has thankfully not been manifested; well until I went to Hart and Fuggle. I first heard about this on Twitter and excitedly booked. It was less of a supper club/ underground restaurant and more in the style of the Reindeer Restaurant (from the Bistroteque guys) and their excellent pop up in the Truman Brewery many years ago.

Cafe Review: Dose Espresso in Smithfields

Dose Espresso is for no good reason completely unloved by me. I mean it is 5 minutes from my flat. It is located in Smithfields which is an area that gives me creeps of historical and London pleasure every time I wander through it. The shop is an independent enterprise in a city full of clones. The coffee is good (Square Mile blend). Really good. The food is fantastic. The staff are gregarious and fun. But yet, I never visit it. The reason for this is a slight laziness in that Pitch 42 on Whitecross Street (review here) is about a minute closer from my flat but still...

Well I finally put the effort in and swung by this Saturday after a palate dissapointing lunch at Bistro Bruno Loubet (here) and I am glad I did because Dose Espresso have got "it".  From the cool interior with fridge magnets listing the drinks to the great muffins and sandwiches I like it all. Also their coffee is good. Whilst it is almost trite to talk about a small Antipodean coffee shop in London these days with good flat whites Dose Espresso is definitely one of them.

So note to self stop being lazy and visit Dose more often.

Price - £2ish