Buon compleanno! Venetia con mamma.

The past 9 days have been a rip roaring fabulous time of hedonistic gluttony. With ARC in town for my recent birthday I learned a few things:

1. Like Virginia, Venice may be for lovers. It’s also for people with shopping addictions.
2. Someone in his/her sixties using the phrase “you’ve got junk in your trunk” and “you’ve got a boot-ay!” just doesn’t seem right.
3. I love sardines. Who knew?
4. There might actually be a thing as too much dessert.
5. No, turning 30 doesn’t feel “different” or “weird”. Neither does turning 30 and 1 day, 30 and 2 days. I’m fairly certain I feel exactly the same as I did at 29. Sometimes I actually think I’m about 12 or maybe 22, but let’s not dig into that.
6. Eating a tub of hummus before dinner might actually spoil it (ok, this one I already knew, but we couldn't help it).

ARC’s arrival started out on a fairly healthy note with a really fabulous rice salad that I adapted from The Sunday Telegraph. Chicken, Sour Cherry, and Wild Rice Salad with green beans, basil, and a pomegranate-balsamic dressing was both beautiful (I kept thinking I should make this as a side dish around Christmukah because of the green and red) and tasty (the sour cherries and dressing balanced nicely with the al dente green beans and simple chicken breast). Oooh yes, another thing I learned this week:

Don’t leave a leftover salad with a garlicky dressing sitting in your fridge while you are away for a few days. It’s really going to smell, and not in a “yum, who’s cooking garlic bread?” kind of way.

ARC’s first weekend found us in Venice. 48 hours of walking, coffee, shopping, vino, shopping, snack time, shopping, gelato/more vino, more walking/shopping, pastry, sardines, vino, bellinis, vino, vino. Dinner. (Not in any particular order of course).

All in all it was a lovely weekend and whilst we started on a sour note with lunch at an atrocious tourist spot, there could only be room for improvement. Based on a few good reviews, one from the NYT, ARC had scored us a reservation at Fiaschetteria Toscana. On the menu:

Starter: Fried brown shrimps with polenta
Starter: Black tagliolini with lobster sauce
Main: Grilled local sea gilt-head bream
Main: Grilled local sea grey king prawns
Side: Fried zucchini flowers
Dessert: Fig tart

To Drink:

2 glasses Rose Ferrari – Gorg!
Bottle of local Soave
Espresso

Due to a small blip in the evening ARC wasn’t able to participate in the 2 starters. It was a tough situation to handle, but I took one for the team and proceeded to tuck in.

When the shrimps and polenta were served I was surprised by the colour of the polenta (white contrary to the cornmeal pale yellow I'm used to) and the itsy bitsiness of the shrimps. While the polenta was probably the least attractive part of the meal with its lack of flavour, the thin crispy coating of the brown shrimp made up for both the polenta and the size of the shrimp. However, it must be noted that the shrimps had been fried with the shell/heads on. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to picking one or two shrimp eyeballs off. Only 1 or 2, I promise. I ate the rest with gusto and panache!

The black tagliolini was pretty much the ultimate pasta dish ever. Light and ethereal it was dressed with just a bit of olive oil, garlic, herbs and lobster. The pasta was obviously home-made and made me realise that buying the generic supermarket brand every 4 out of 5 times just isn't going to cut it. More to the point, next on my list of culinary projects will be to perhaps make some homemade pasta.

Both mains were grilled in a little olive oil with herbs and lemon. The fish was so fresh I thought I might have to slap it back down on my plate. I think we often get so used to eating food that’s 80-90% “fresh” that when finally prompted with the opportunity to eat the Godfather of Fresh – we realise just how sublime it can be. I absolutely fell in love with the taste of the fish. I typically get annoyed at the little bones that have been inadvertently left in when being filleted. However, in this case – all was easily forgiven.

The most surprising aspect of dinner was the fig tart ARC and I shared for dessert. Expecting something similar to a tarte tatin with big pieces of freshly baked fig, we were completely blown away by what did arrive. Homemade pastry crust was layered with fresh pastry cream and fig puree. It was absolutely heavenly. Bellissimo!

Storytelling

There have been cringe-worthy (and hysterical in their irony) tales from the last week. Not really centred around gorgeous culinary creations (unless you count cookie crisp cereal and cheese bread at 3:30 am) or even fabulous grown-up cocktails – no, this time the stories are woven together with a mojito or two, tequila shots (which I thought I’d retired after that NYE on Babcock Street) a few (6) beers, oh – and half a bottle of wine for good measure. Living in a city of gold-medal binge drinkers, I would have preferred to pick up a fake British accent like Madonna or an interest in cricket, but alas…when in Rome…

As a result of my ridiculous weekend I thought it best to submit myself to something calming, straight-forward, and consistent (the complete opposite of what I’ve been experiencing) and decided that a lovely risotto would fit the bill. Once you get the knack of making risotto you realise that even when you change what you put in it – it should typically turn out the same as long as you add the right amount of wine/stock. Sometimes it can be a bit of work having to stir it frequently, but it’s an uncomplicated task, and always worth it in the end.

As a side note, I’d like to invest money in a mobile phone with a built in breathalyser. When the owner’s blood alcohol reaches a certain level, the mobile goes into lock-down mode. No calls and texts are allowed, unless it really is a dire emergency. Not sure how this last bit would work, but even if it couldn’t filter the legitimate emergencies – I’d risk it for this guaranteed lock-down.

Ok, so probably not the most typical risotto out there, but even calming and uncomplicated needs a teensy bit of drama, no?

Butternut Squash Risotto with Garlic and Panko crusted Prawns*

Based on the following recipe from epicurious.com: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/240105

Ingredients:
- 1 butternut squash (I bought a bag at Waitrose already cut up…I was going for uncomplicated remember?)

- 20 uncooked large prawns (about 1 1/4 pounds), peeled, deveined

- 3 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided

- 3 large garlic cloves, peeled, smashed, plus 2 large garlic cloves, chopped (again, I used minced “lazy” garlic already smashed and chopped)

- 1 cup panko crumbs

- 1/2 teaspoon salt

- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

- 5 cups low-salt chicken broth

- 1 1/2 cups chopped onion

- 4 teaspoons finely chopped fresh thyme, divided

- 1 1/2 cups arborio rice or medium-grain white rice

- 1/2 cup dry white wine- Vegetable oil (for frying)

- 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Preparation:
- Preheat oven to 400°F.

- Roast squash for approximately 45 minutes with a bit of olive oil, cool and mash together with a fork to make a puree (or use a food processor, which I still don’t have)

- Place prawns, 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, and some garlic in large resealable plastic bag; turn to coat. Chill for an hour or two

- Stir panko, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper in medium bowl. Add shrimp; toss. Arrange in single layer on large plate.

- Bring broth to simmer in heavy small saucepan; reduce heat to low and keep hot.

- Heat remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil in heavy large saucepan over medium-high heat.

- Add onion and cook until beginning to brown, stirring often, about 5 minutes.

- Add garlic and 2 teaspoons thyme; stir 1 minute.

- Add rice and stir 1 minute.

- Add wine; stir until almost absorbed, about 2 minutes. Reduce heat to medium.

- Add 1 cup hot broth and cook until almost all liquid is absorbed, stirring often. Continue adding hot broth 1 cup at a time and stirring frequently until rice is almost tender, about 20 minutes.

- Meanwhile, heat vegetable oil in a heavy large skillet

- Sautee prawns until golden brown and cooked through, about 1 1/2 minutes per side.

- Rewarm squash puree in microwave and add to risotto and stir until rice is tender but still firm, about 2 minutes.

- Stir in Parmesan cheese and remaining 2 teaspoons thyme. Season with salt and pepper

*Prawns = Shrimp

Easy as Pie

“Easy as Pie” is a saying I’ve always attributed to meaning easy peasy or a cinch. Ironically, making a great pie isn’t really that easy. Unless of course your idea of good pastry crust is made from the frozen crap that’s found in your supermarket's local freezer section. If so, then yes, “easy as pie” makes complete sense. However, I think the phrase is referring to how easy it is to eat…now that’s something I can effortlessly understand.

The truth is - making a pastry crust that’s not too dry and getting the fruit so that both tart and sweet harmonize together, is both an art and science. Even more daunting than trying to be a culinary chemist however, was that I was making my mother’s pie recipe. I’ve made many a pie in my day and they’ve typically turned out quite well (key lime and coconut being the best). However, the only time I’d ever made my mother’s pie recipe when I was in close proximity to the recipe owner. It just never dawned on me to make her pie away from her kitchen. The psychologist in me could probably psycho-analyse this for a good while yet - but let's cut to the chase...

When referring to a pie here in the UK, typical thoughts centre on savory dishes. To my fellow Yanks – just imagine every time you ordered pie you were served Chicken Pot Pie, or something similar. On a few different occasions when I mentioned to some British friends that I was making a pie, the conversations all unfolded in the same exact manner:

Dana: "I’m making a pie."

British friends: "What kind of pie?"

Dana: "Strawberry rhubarb."

British friends: "Oh, you mean you are making a crumble?"

Dana: "No, I’m making a pie."

British friends: (With look of confusion on their faces) "I don’t get it."

Dana: Ever see the movie American Pie? Watch reruns of Bev Hills 90210 when they went to the Peach Pit? That kind of pie.

My pie baking, balcony doors open, and late summer breeze combined together to create the most wonderful smell which wafted beyond the borders of my flat. As it baked, I sat on my balcony doing a bit of work when I surprisingly heard a “Hey, you. You with the laptop! I’ve no idea what you are cooking but it smells amazing!”

Wow - I was surprised by that, and I seriously had no idea how it was going to turn out but it really did smell great. I was like the PIE-d Piper of Buckler Court luring my neighbors in with my baking scent. So much so that I think I've discovered a new money making scheme and hit for the women's fragrance industry. Eau de strawberry rhubarb pie - "one sniff and you'll have them eating out of your hands."

Interesting thought....

It could work. Really it could.

I'll keep you posted.

Pie Crust:
- 1 cup vegetable shortening (some people smuggle luxury goods in their luggage, Dana smuggles Crisco vegetable shortening from the States)
- 1/3 cup boiling water
- 2 cups (about) flour
- 1 tbsp orange juice
- pinch of salt

1. Whisk shortening and boiling water together until it has the consistency of loose whipped cream (may need a bit more water)
2. Add flour and orange juice until mixed thoroughly
3. Chill dough for a few hours and then role between two pieces of parchment paper

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie:
4-6 stalks of rhubarb cut up
1/4 cup orange juice
1 tbsp orange peel
Tapioca to thicken (I couldn't find tapioca in the markets here so used 1/4 cup of corn flour instead and it worked fine)
2 pints strawberries, washed and cut in half.

1. Cook rhubarb with everything but strawberries for about 15 minutes or until rhubarb is tender and has thickened
2. Mix with strawberries
3. Role out half of dough and place fruit inside
4. Cover with remaining dough and sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar (you can do the fandangled lattice top like in the photo, but you could just ongepotchket it together and slap it on top in one piece)

5. Bake for 45 minutes at 175 C or 350 F.

LPR Bars

Sometimes I think the concoctions that come out of my oven are a direct result of a weekly fridge cleanout. For nearly two weeks I have had a bunch of lemons sitting and waiting to be made into either some sort of baked good or to nobly get sliced and diced as an accoutrement to a vodka tonic. Sadly, neither has taken place recently so I figured the Bank Holiday Monday was a good opportunity to do both. In the process of making my lemon squares I came across some passionruit and raspberries that were also longingly asking to be put to some good use. As my Yoga teacher states at the end of my weekly sessions, “With all that hard work, now is the time to let the new fresh energy back into our systems.” I think I’d like to adapt that to my fridge, “With all that hard work (not that hard when drinking a V&T ), now is the time to let the new fresh food from my Bank Holiday trip to Whole Foods into my now empty fridge.”

The creation of these lemon bars made me realise just how desperate I am for a food processor.

I had promised myself that my first big purchase in London would be this culinary gift from above. It’s been 5 months and I still haven’t bought it. Why you might ask? Good question.

The fact that I have food stored behind our living room couch gives a sneak peak at the lack of kitchen space at 168 Buckler Court. Luxuries like food processors are going to have to wait unless I want my Choos set aside and plan to store my kitchen appliances in my bedroom.

Ironically, the sad story here is that for the past week 75% of my clothes have been cooling out in my lounge/kitchen area. The pathetic tale here involves a broken wardrobe, piles of hangers, a lot of cursing, and a fix-it man who refuses to fix anything (and even made me get up at 8:30 on Saturday morning to NOT show up).

Ok, so yeah – instead of the food processor I used this archaic tool known as hands…had to knead and work the butter until it resembled fine meal and started to stick together. The crust definitely could have benefited from one or two more on and off turns in the food processor. Alas, it was not meant to be.

LPR (Lemon, Passionfruit, and Raspberry) Bars

Crust

1 cup flour

1/3 cup sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup toasted coconut

85 grams (3/4 stick) chilled butter, cut into small pieces

Topping

1 ½ cups sugar

4 eggs

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
Juice and pulp from 2 Passionfruit
¼ cup muddled raspberries
1 tbsp (packed) finely grated lemon peel

¼ cup all purpose flour

1 tsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

For crust:

- Preheat oven to 185°C (350°F).
- Butter a metal baking pan.
- Combine flour, sugar, and salt and then add coconut and butter – work through with hands until -dough begins to stick together.
- Press into pan and bake until golden about 20 minutes.

Topping:

- Combine sugar, eggs, lemon juice, Passionfruit, raspberries, lemon peel, flour, baking powder, and salt in bowl and whisk until smooth and mixed thoroughly.
- Pour filling evenly over hot crust.
- Return to oven and bake until filling begins to brown at edges and is cooked through, about 30 minutes.
- Cool bars.
- Sift powdered sugar over if serving to guests or if you like your LPR Bars sweeter rather then tarter. Personally, I prefer a bit of apucker.

Dins Party - Take 1

My brief 2 week hiatus is a result of that thing called work. I’ve recently started a new project and low and behold it’s sunk its dysfunctional claws in quicker than I would have liked. This has resulted in many a night of scrummy sandwiches (not), glorious bowls of cereal (hardly), and on the off occasion, just a pint and/or a piece of cake for dins…pretty much the utmost in unhealthy.

That said, a week ago last Sunday I felt myself jonesing for a little old-school dinner party… or more accurately some really good home-cooked food. Seeing as this generally requires me to do the cooking, FM and I invited a few of her LBS friends over – I was just happy to have some people to cook for! Plus I was looking to do a bit of career questioning whilst seeing if I could get some good blackmail gossip on BRO1.

That Sunday morning found FM and I having a cosy roomie day of plant (we named her Louda), bin* and grocery shopping. It was another day of crap weather, but lovely in that it was nice to feel like I was ticking off a bit of the domesticated chores I’d been procrastinating doing – it was sparkling in 168 Buckler Court by mid-day!

Le menu:

1. The C-B family recipe for Grandpa Cook’s pork
When people ask if I’m very religious I like to explain that one of my grandpa’s favourite dishes, made by my grandma (both Jewish), was this pork filet dish. So, yeah – um not really when it comes to the whole kosher thing.

2. Courgette fritters with a home-made yogurt garlic dipping sauce

3. Salad – courtesy of FM (two thumbs up on the lettuce, cucumbers and feta)

Grandpa Cook’s Pork - Looks like (and is) a higgildy piggildy assortment of ingredients, but it tastes like a gem. Even better the next day.

1-2 Pork Filets (That’s Fill-its not Fill-ays and also known as Pork Tenderloin for you Yanks)
2 tsps minced ginger
2 tsps minced garlic
¼ cup ketchup
¾ cup red wine
1 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs oil
1/3 cup brown sugar
¼ cup vinegar
¼ cup water
2 tsp curry powder
2 tsp cornstarch

- Mix all ingredients except for corn starch and marinate pork for a few hours.

- Preheat oven to 190 C or 375 F

- Pour marinade into a medium size sauce pan. Take a bit of the liquid and vigorously mix with the cornstarch and add to sauce pan to thicken and make a roux.

- Cook pork for about 30 minutes or until just a bit pink in the middle.

- Serve pork with sauce on top



Courgette Fritters with Yogurt Sauce - Adapted from Bill Granger’s cook book Bill's Food

500g (1 lb 2 oz) courgette (zucchini), grated
1/2 tsp sea salt
8 spring onions, chopped
125g (4.5 oz) feta, crumbled
35g (1/2 cup) chopped coriander (cilantro) - Note: Bill's recipe suggests parsley, but Dana suggests cilantro - your choice
15g (1/4 cup) chopped mint
2 eggs, beaten
60g (1/2 cup) flour
Sea salt and pepper to taste
60ml (1/4 cup) olive oil for frying

- Put the courgettes in a colander, sprinkle with salt and set aside for 30 min (Didn’t read the recipe ahead and was a bit squeezed for time so only allowed about 15 minutes – it was fine). Squeeze out any excess liquid and pat dry with paper towel.

- Mix everything in a huge bowl, then heat the oil in a pan and add tablespoonfuls of the batter, flattening them with the back of the spoon. Fry for about 3 min on each side (or until golden).


Yogurt Sauce

1 minced garlic clove
1 tbsp olive oil
125g (1/2 cup) plain yogurt
2 tbsp lemon juice
Sea salt
Black pepper

Mix all ingredients in a bowl and serve with fritters.
(This yogurt sauce is also amazing with fish or chicken)


*Bin = Garbage can. At £50 ($100) I almost died, but hey nothing but the best in garbage cans for FM and me.

Greengage upside-down cake

Certainly someone could have come up with a better name than “greengage”!? Finicky to grow, the greengage fruit is of the plum family and rarely found in the US (select farmer’s markets have them in the summer) and available in some UK supermarkets for a few weeks as well. Originating in France, the greengage is a pale greenish and slightly tart plum. I first happened upon them last week when I opened my front door to a surprise package. A friend had left a whole bag from his parent’s back garden at my doorstep. Apparently the greengage is typically used to make jam and not much more, and as my friend mentioned - no one is his family has successfully baked anything wonderful with the greengage. My mission, if I chose to accept, was to make something "wonderful".

Firstly, I tasted them on their own to see what I was up against. Quite nice I must admit – tarter than the average plum – and a nice little summer shnack. I first looked around for greengage recipes online - um yeah, didn’t find too many of those. Alternatively, I decided to doctor-up a plum recipe, keep my fingers crossed, and hope for the best.

On epicurious.com I found a recipe for a plum upside-down cake. Whilst I used this recipe as a baseline there are a few alterations below which I’ve bolded.

Greengage upside down cake
2/3 cup brown sugar
140 grams (about 10 Tbsp) butter
1 Tbsp Maple Syrup or Honey
1 dozen greengages, halved, pitted, each half cut into 4 wedges
1/4 cup blueberries (coolin’ out in my fridge so figured, why not)?
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup sour cream
1/2 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 175°C (350°F).

- Stir 4 tablespoons butter, brown sugar and maple syrup in pan over low heat everything is melted and a smooth sauce forms.

- Transfer to 9-inch-diameter cake pan with 2-inch-high sides and arrange plums in overlapping circles atop sauce. (I started out making some fancy design and then realised is was going to be a disaster…stick with the circles)

- Mix flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt

- Beat the rest of the butter in large bowl until light. Add sugar and beat until creamy. Add eggs and beat until fluffy. Add vanilla extract.

- Combine sour cream and buttermilk.

- Add dry ingredients alternating with wet ingredients to butter/sugar/egg mixture, until combined. Spoon batter evenly over plums.

- Bake cake until golden and tester inserted into center of cake comes out clean, about 55 minutes. Transfer to rack; cool in pan 30 minutes (don’t be tempted to skip this step – have patience)!

- Using knife, cut around pan sides to loosen cake. Place platter atop cake pan. Invert cake; Voila!

Note: The epicurious recipe calls for serving it with whipped cream. I didn't think this was necessary, if you make it don't add much sugar as the cake is particularly sweet.

Waiting for THAI-night...

I was looking forward to last night’s dinner at Nahm with a lot of anticipation. Not quite like Christmakah morning, but all things considered, pretty close. Nahm, located in the Halkin Hotel in Belgravia* is the only Michelin Star restaurant in all of Europe that serves Thai food. In anticipation of my evening meal out, I did a little Jessice Fletcher recognisance work earlier in the day. I learned that the chef, David Thompson, is a transplanted Australian who also owns Sailor’s Thai Canteen (STC) in Sydney. This felt like the ultimate stroke of good luck because not only have I been to STC on both occasions I was in Sydney, but I loved the food so much that when I was there this past February ARC and I ate there twice in one week.

STC is quite informal and not very expensive. It’s loud and hubbub-y, with a family-style table running the length of the restaurant. While I wasn’t expecting the same food at Nahm since it's a much more formal and posh place, I was still expecting something ridiculously delicious. Going into anything with uber high-expectations is always a recipe for disaster. No matter how good it is - it hardly ever hits the mark.

FM and I arrived at the Halkin hotel about 20 minutes late for our reservation due to our jibber jabbering over a couple glasses of Pinot Grigio at the Beauchamp Bar in Knightsbridge. I rang the restaurant to let them know and immediately I could tell from the hostess’s response that it didn’t make one lick of difference. Low and behold when we arrived at the restaurant at 8:20 it was nearly empty except for a table of 4 American business men.

Nahm felt very much like the hotel restaurant that it is. The room glowed in subtle yellow tones with unassuming Asian accents. While not really unappealing in any distinct way, I said to FM that the room felt as boring as the décor in a school cafeteria.

The traditional Thai nahm arharn meal chose us…meaning that FM had procured a coupon which allowed us a “free” bottle of wine if we ordered it. The menu consisted of a starter, a soup, and a salad, curry, and stir fry to share. To start we were served an amuse bouche of prawn, peanut and chili paste on mandarin orange and pineapple segments. It really whetted the appetite and hinted at wonderful things to come.

Our starter was kanom muang gai kem, salted chicken and longan wafers with Thai basil and kaffir lime leaves. A longan is a Thai fruit similar to a lychee I discovered. The wafers were rolled cannoli style and stuffed with the chicken and longan concoction. I expected it to be hot, but was pleasantly surprised how good it was at room temperature.

Nahm’s biggest faux pas came shortly thereafter. We were served the soup, warmed salad, curry, stir-fry and rice all at the same time. As someone who enjoys hot food eaten hot – I knew that short of making a fuss – I was going to have to get down to business. Difficult when you have two big talkers like FM and me (e.g. during the course of the meal I got 300 years of Irish/British relations and history from FM). The soup was geng jeut bai dtamleung muu bachor, clear soup of minced pork dumplings with ivy gourd leaves. Most likely Thailand’s non-kosher take on matzo-ball soup, it was light and flavourful. However, the menu said “minced pork dumplings” (plural) and while I had a massive amount of ivy gourd leaves (sort of like kale) I only had 1 dumpling– so did feel a bit short change.

Needless to say the rest of the food was eaten room temperature. Green curry of braised salted beef with wild ginger, apple and pea aubergines was too spicy for my palate and filled with items that didn't look or taste anything like apples, peas, or aubergines (perhaps my lack of knowledge on authentic Thai vegetables being my down-fall here). Stir fried long aubergines with yellow beans and Thai basil weren’t long and didn’t have any yellow beans. Fortunately for me, it still tasted quite good. The best dish of the evening was the salad of crispy pork with squid and chili jam. The pork was sufficiently crispy and even though the dish was cold, it still managed to dance with the tender squid quite beautifully.

Desserts were included in our meal and while beautifully presented they didn't particularly suit my palate. I made a mental note to smuggle some chocolate in my backpack for when I go to Thailand in a few months – for if these desserts were any indication of Thai sweets - I'll probably need an emergency stash.

FM and I shared both the rice custard with longans, banana puree and young coconut with young coconut biscuits and rice dumplings in coconut cream with crunchy sesame seed cakes with peanuts, coconut, and palm sugar. Funny about not being too keen on these desserts because coconut is probably one of my favorite things ever, matched not far behind with a guilty pleasure love of rice custard. However, the first dessert had absolutely no flavor of banana whatsoever – and was reminiscent of what I might have eaten before I had teeth. The rice dumplings lacked dumplings – it was the same consistency as the rice pudding. The sesame seed cakes however, were quite good. They balanced the sweet, salty, nutty spectrum quite well.

This meal – OFFICIALLY wins the award for the most expensive dinner I’ve ever paid for. The set price itself was pretty steep at £55 per person, but our £13.50 ($27) glasses of champagne didn’t help either – or rather they did help - depending on one’s perspective! Plus water, tea etc…it made a big impact. I’m surprised by the Michelin Star – and can only attribute it to possibly ordering the wrong things.

Having not been to Thailand (October 2007, Ya Hoo!) I can’t claim the authenticity of the food either. Were the dishes something I’ll find when I visit? Or was the food some fandangled western-palate inspired Thai Cuisine? Either way, it probably doesn’t matter. I imagine that for the cost of the dinner I could a) come close to buying a beach hut in a remote Thai local (with staff) b) have enough money to travel through that part of the world for 2 weeks and eat and sleep quite well or c) make some serious inroads on a flight to Sydney so I can head back to STC for some kick-ass AND inexpensive pad-thai.


Belgravia* - Neighborhood with a lot of embassies and really posh/rich people