Sugar, Spice, and a whole lot of butter

It’s nearly Christmas when:

1. I’m obsessing about every little gift I plan on giving.

2. I’m annoyingly humming Christmas Carols during 75% of my waking hours.

3. JT may have brought sexy back, but I'm bringing Rudolph back with a bloody cold that's 2 Legit 2 Quit.

4. I’ve a penchant for all things sparkly, and am magnetically drawn to clothes in red, green and gold. If it’s combined all in one gorgeous frock, cheers to that.

AND

5. I start breaking out sticks of butter with wanton abandon, far too many cups of sugar, and excessive amounts of chocolate that would even make Mr. Hershey blush. Then, I bake.

Dark Chocolate-Chunk Shortbread: http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/articles/2007/12/12/chocolate_chunk_shortbread/
I followed the recipe I found in this week’s Boston Globe. I had some lovely Lindt 85% cocoa chocolate so used that in lieu of their recommendation. My taste buds are only at about 75% due to the cold, but danggit - it smells unbelievable in my kitchen at the moment. It's all about the butter.

Cranberry Coffee Cake - based on: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/107775

2 cups fresh cranberries

1 3/4 cups granulated sugar

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

3/4 teaspoon salt1 stick

(1/2 cup - 113 g) unsalted butter, softened

2 large eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup whole milk

I also added 1/2 cup pecan pieces and 1 tsp cinnamon.

- Pulse cranberries with 1/2 cup granulated sugar in a food processor until finely chopped (do not purée). Transfer to a sieve and let drain while making batter.

- Sift together flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt.

- Beat together butter and remaining sugar until light and fluffy, about 5-8 minutes.

- Add eggs, then vanilla.

- Add flour mixture and milk alternately in batches, beginning and ending with flour and mixing until just incorporated. Add pecans.

- Spread one third of batter in well-buttered loaf pan, then spoon half of drained cranberries evenly over batter. Top with another third of batter and remaining cranberries.

- Bake in middle of oven until golden brown and a tester inserted in center comes out without crumbs, 1 to 1 1/4 hours.

- Cool cake in pan on a rack 30 minutes.

- Serve warm or at room temperature.

Wild about Wild Honey

Last night I died and went to…the USA. Don’t get me wrong, I love the UK for a number of different reasons, some of which include how wonderful the people can be. However, living in London, one thing I miss the most is the good, old-fashioned customer service I get at home.

Of course I’ve had State-side restaurant service debacles that have left me frustrated, angry, and hungry. The norm however, is of the “customer is always right” variety. Last night, after a happy ho-ho-ho-lidays Christmas concert at Grosvener Chapel where our friend AW was singing, and a glass of wine at a nearby Mayfair pub called the Audley, KC and I meandered to a new restaurant I’d recently read about called Wild Honey. We arrived a few minutes before our scheduled booking, and as the table wasn’t ready, we popped up to a couple seats at the bar.

Immediately the bartender was over to us, smiling at us like old friends who’d just called in for a quick visit. How could he help he wanted to know? After a bit of idle chitchat, and letting him know we were waiting to eat in the dining area, he was off – he’d just spotted some other friends who’d come in to visit. Over strolled a waiter who wanted to chat with us about the food while we waited. Not only did he answer our questions about the menu but gave us some in-depth details on how some dishes were prepared. I didn’t have the heart to stop him when he was explaining what Mushroom Duxelle was. He was so jolly in his teaching mode, so what if I already knew what they were, KC most likely didn't. The best bit about talking through the menu? He insisted we do it with a cocktail – on the house. Now as anyone who’s lived in London before knows, this NEVER happens – Ever, Ever, Ever! We were a bit shell-shocked by the offer but I recovered quickly enough to say, “yes, that would be lovely thank you.”

The cocktail? A mixture of Prosecco and Braeburn apple juice. So amazing, I’ve decided to smuggle some quality Braeburn juice from Borough Market in my suitcase next week when I head home.

The food was excellent, simple and straightforward, and the décor followed suit with high ceilings and lots of wood panelling and leather banquets. It felt somewhat reminiscent of what an Ivy boys club might look like – subtle, sleek and sophisticated.

Both KC and I had a salad of warm roasted winter vegetables. There were onions, squash, celeriac, pumpkin, and red and yellow beets all sprinkled with a light milk based sauce prepared with garlic and herbs. The starter was satisfying, delicious, and in its own way healthy (the sauce was lightly drizzled and very light).

As a main I had the Icelandic Cod with braised radicchio and roast onion squash. The cod was prepared roulade style and was served looking like a mini tower of pisa. The braised radiccho and roast onion squash were somewhat reminiscent of my starter, which actually suited me just fine.

Throughout the meal the service remained outstanding. There was only one questionable moment. KC and I had decided to skip dessert and sat chatting and finishing our wine. A waiter came over to us, looked us both squarely in the eyes, smiled and said – “what can I do for you ladies, is there anything you need?” After a brief awkward silence KC coyly smiling back and said “no, we’re fine thank you, just finishing our wine. ” As he strolled off I looked at KC a bit confused and told her she shouldn’t have said no so quickly, I’d been about to ask him to juggle and half expected he would have done so.

With most of their wines sold by the 250 ml carafes, prices that are very reasonable, a menu that changes daily with the seasonal produce available, a cosy interior, and service that tops all charts for the UK, it’s no wonder I’m wild about Wild Honey.

Apple Pie

There were some residual effects this week of not having hosted/attended a proper Thanksgiving meal and they manifested themselves in the form of an apple pie.

The reality was that I was looking for any excuse to make one, but with FM away and my weekend plans including nights and days out instead of in, I wasn’t exactly sure who I’d be making this pie for. All well in good to make it just for me, but we’re now in December - a month of way too much holiday cheer wrapped around martinis, night’s out, bottles of wine, Christmas cookies, and Pret a Manger’s Christmas Lunch seasonal sandwiches. I certainly didn't need a personal apple pie sitting in my flat. Luckily, I was able to get the apple pie out of my system (and flat) by heading over to RL’s parents for dinner Friday night.

To tell the truth, I'd not actually made an apple pie before. Shocking I know, but similar to the strawberry rhubarb pie I made a few months back, the apple pie was always something that I might help make, but never owned. I was always delegated the somewhat more random desserts like chocolate caramelised pecan pie or the double key lime coconut pie. Like many of my desserts I made a bit of it up as I went along, and I’ve noted them as optional in the recipe below:

Pie crust: See August’s Strawberry Rhubarb Pie recipe

Filling:
10 Granny smith apples, peeled and cut into small pieces
¾ Cup brown sugar
¾ Cup granulated sugar
1 Tbsp cinnamon
¼ Cup lemon juice
½ Jar fruit preserves (I used orange, but apricot would work well)
½ Cup chopped dried apricots (optional)
¼ Cup dried cranberries (optional)

1. Mix all ingredients together and let sit for 10 minutes. Taste, and add more sugar/cinnamon until it’s not too sweet or not too tart (unless of course, you prefer it more one way than the other). I err on the tart side so always start out using a bit less sugar.
2. Role out half of dough and place fruit inside
3. Cover with remaining dough and sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar
4. Bake for 1 hour at 175 C or 350 F.
5. Let cool for at least 30 minutes

At RL's parent's house they served the pie with cream. Personally I opted to go without. The pie wasn't the most beautiful dessert I'd ever created, partly due to schlepping it on the tube and through the pouring rain for 45 minutes, but it was really delicious. The apple filling on it's own was amazing, and in an attempt to make this a bit healthier you could skip out on the crust and just cook the apples in a baking dish with a bit of granola on top for texture.

A British Thanksgiving (of sorts)

I made an effort, albeit a small one – to celebrate my favourite state-side holiday here in London. On the official Turkey Day I didn’t actually get home from work until 9 p.m. so my plan was to do something small over the weekend instead.

After a raucous weekend in Horsham, Sunday night found me stuffing a chicken (a turkey seemed a bit excessive for 3-4 people) mashing potatoes (a “lighter” recipe than my typical garlic cream and cheddar cheese ones), steaming broccoli and serving up a fresh batch of my world-famous brownies (yes they were once shipped to my brother in Finland where it was claimed that they were the “best brownies ever”).

Herein was a simple meal (perhaps one of my favourites) that I was making for some dear friends which yes, I am very thankful for. Like the brownies as well, the stuffing is an old family recipe. On paper it looks and sounds a bit strange. However, for one reason or another the stuffing is quite simply ridiculously good. It could arguably be the most revered and loved family recipe my clan posesses. I’ve even been jokingly accused of putting illegal substances in it which makes it addictive. While I can promise that I don’t – I do have to admit that technically I “smuggled” the main ingredient over from the States.

It’s important here to repeat – the recipe looks and sounds strange. You will wonder if I’ve left out half a dozen ingredients. You will think of jello molds, and dishes made in the 70s called tuna pea wiggle. I promise, if you approach with an open mind – you will love it. Everyone does (recent guests from Sunday night included).

C-B Family Stuffing
(This was enough for about 6 servings).

1 box of Ritz crackers (4 sachets)
1 large carrot
3 garlic cloves, chopped
½ large onion
2 Tbsp butter

Put the crackers through a food processor until fine meal forms. Or in the instance that you don’t have a proper food processor, but like me have a "mini chopper" that looks like it should be sitting in my niece's doll-house, put the crackers in the mini chopper in 8 (Yes, EIGHT!) rotations to get them all ground up. Remove and place in a large bowl.

Add onion, garlic, and carrot and finely grind. Add to crackers.

Melt butter and add to crackers/onion mixture. Stir and add a little water, a tbsp at a time, if it is still dry. Note: sometimes I grind a bit more carrots and onions and add to the mix if it seems too “crackery”.

If you are making a whole chicken or turkey, stuff inside the bird and underneath the skin of the breasts. An easier, week-night variation would be to buy boneless chicken breasts, with the skin on -and place the stuffing under the skin on the meat.

Note: Here in London they sell boneless chicken breast with the skin on. In the States you’ll have to ask for it special. If you take a package of chicken breasts with the bone/skin to the butcher’s counter they’ll typically take the bones out for you.

The brownies that I made that night are also a family recipe. Whenever people who don’t know me ask if I eat store bought baked goods, I always tell them no – I much prefer homemade and why buy the pre-packaged store bought stuff when it’s just so insanely easy to make simple things from scratch? The recipe, more than any other in my permanent repertoire, exemplifies this.

A funny thing about these brownies though...at present there is a bit of a family debate over who whips these brownies up in the best and tastiest fashion. Originally a race between my mother and myself, my brother recently followed the straight-up easy to follow recipe and declared that his batch was the “best batch ever”.

Note to brother: Highly unlikely, and may I remind you that you once rang me (from another country) and asked me how to make a baked potato. I won’t even get into the story of when you also called me for instructions on how to make mashed potatoes. An individual who makes these types of calls can not be the current family brownie-making champion.

Now, every good girl needs a few secrets...and as such will hold on to this brownie recipe for the time being...it might yet be an idea to still bring it to the mass market. :-)

Getting my fix

Like a ten year old who’s had his sweets taken away or the world champion food-eating winner Joey Chestnut being told he can’t have any more hot dogs, it’s been a painful few weeks of having one of my favourite treats taken away. The plain and simple truth was that while I’d been having a fabulous time travelling around and entertaining overseas friends, I was also starting to slowly go through a somewhat painful withdrawal of not being in my kitchen. I needed a fix and I needed it bad. With my creative juices flowing, my cupboards no longer empty; last Sunday I scheduled an evening of Dana cooking time. Like any junkie, I knew it wouldn’t necessarily take much, and by the end of the evening I was most definitely back on track.

Definitely not to be eaten together - I ended up making two things that night. The first was a homemade granola and the second the most random lasagne. I'd like to say the most random one over, but there was that one time I made one with polenta instead of pasta...not something I'd recommend!

The first item was in an attempt to have a healthy and somewhat sweet snack hanging around my flat and the second was to try and make something that I could both enjoy for a few days and then freeze for later consumption on those “school” nights when I get home too late to cook much more than a bowl of Kellogg's Special K.

Maple Pecan Granola with Dried Cranberries:

- Nonstick oil spray
- 3/4 cup brown sugar
- 1/2 cup maple syrup
- 2 egg whites
- 1 tablespoon vanilla
- 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon allspice
- 3 cups old-fashioned oats
- 3/4 cup chopped pecans
- 3/4 cup dried cranberries

Preheat oven to 165°C (325°F).
Coat a baking sheet with nonstick spray.
Stir 1/2 cup sugar and maple syrup in small saucepan over low heat until sugar dissolves.
Pour into large bowl; cool to lukewarm.
Whisk in egg whites, vanilla, and spices.
Add oats, pcans, and remaining 1/4 cup sugar.
Spread mixture in even layer on prepared sheet.
Bake 35 minutes.
Turn granola over (bottom will be brown). Bake 10 more minutes.
Sprinkle cranberries over; bake until dry, about 15 minutes more.
Cool granola completely in pan.

Granola stores well in tupperware (it's been over a week so far and it's still D-lish)!

Butternut Squash, Mushroom, and Spinach Lasagne:

1 onion, diced
2 cups mushrooms, chopped
3 cups butternut squash, diced
6 cloves garlic, chopped
olive oil
salt & pepper
1 bag washed spinach
4 tablespoons flour
4 cups milk (I used semi-skimmed-2% and you could not tell the difference)
10-14 non-cook lasagne pieces
1/2 cup mascarpone
parmesan

Filling:
Cook chopped onion in olive oil for about 10 minutes. Add mushrooms and butternut squash, 3 cloves garlic, salt, and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until squash is just tender, about 15 - 20 minutes. Remove from heat and cool.

In a separate pan, sauté spinach with a bit of olive oil until cooked down. Set aside.

Béchamel:
Note: This might be a bit tastier made with whole milk and butter (instead of olive oil) and I'd recommend it if you don't have a love/hate relationship with dairy, like me. I was trying to be a bit healthier (for a change) and opted for the olive oil and semi-skim milk.

Cook remaining garlic in olive oil in a medium saucepan over moderately low heat, stirring, 1 minute.
Whisk in flour and cook roux, whisking, 3 minutes.
Add milk in a stream, whisking.
Bring to a boil, whisking constantly, then reduce heat and simmer, whisking occasionally, 10 minutes.
Whisk in salt and white pepper and remove from heat.

Assembly required:
Preheat oven to 220C (425 F)
Spread 1/2 cup sauce in an olive oil greased baking dish, cover with 2-4 pasta sheets, leaving spaces between sheets.
Spread with 2/3 cup sauce and one third of filling, then sprinkle with a 1/3 of the mascarpone and a bit of parmesan.
Repeat layering 2 more times, beginning with pasta sheets and ending with cheese.
Top with remaining 3 pasta sheets, remaining sauce, and remaining cheese. Cover dish with foil and bake for about 25-35 minutes.
Remove foil and bake until golden-brown and bubbling, 10 to 15 minutes more (I always take it out after the corners are crispy....my favourite bit)!
Let lasagne stand at least 10 minutes before serving.

Having my cake, and eating it too

This past weekend marked the last few days of an insane, non-stop, go-go gadget month. Starting with a visitor from the States, Venice, my actual birthday, 2 weeks in South East Asia, and 369 actionable emails in my inbox upon my return - this Saturday also marked my 30th birthday party extravaganza. It was the last twirl on this month's Mad Tea Party ride (Note: without the motion sickness but a big massive grin across my face kinda way).

The party was held at a venue near Old Street called Sosho. Besides moments here and there ensuring friends who’d turned up on their own were mixing and mingling like peanuts and cashews in a jar of Planter’s Premium Nuts, it was a wicked night with my wonderful friends in London and a few surprise visitors from afar.

In between my hectic and insane week, SG arriving from LAX, and a 4 hour appt at Taylor Taylor that Saturday, I had managed to whip up a wee birthday cake for the night.

If you asked FM however, I’d not shut up all week (mentioning it at least twice a day) about how I needed to find time to make this cake. Getting up early or staying up late was fine, but I HAD to make it myself. There was no alternative. No, “just buy a cake” or “just skip a cake”. The venue wasn’t even letting me bring it with me because it would "make a mess" so it was going to be eaten at home anyway. So, it HAD to be home-made and it HAD to be made by me. It was quintessential OCD baking. I think I’ve patented the disorder. Strike that, my mother has patented the disorder. It’s simply genetic.

While the party started at 8:30, I had a few friends to Buckler Court for champagne and cake first. So what if it ended up being my dinner? Cake is as good a stomach coater as pasta, it’s scientifically proven. JO, SG, AW, TS, FM and I proceeded to cheers and eat, cheers and nibble some more. The combination of cake and champagne and being a generation of SITC watchers, made for some pretty lively pre-party banter. So much so that I’m fairly certain that TS, the one guy of the bunch was grinning and blushing from ear to ear listening to our chat. Always good fun.

It was a great way to start out the night and even though I ended up having 2/3 of the cake left over- I found a bunch of friends at work this week who were happy to gobble it up. Not one word of “constructive criticism” – unless you count – “Don’t bring anymore in, I’ll end up eating it all!”

Dana’s 30th Birthday Cake
The cake is from the following recipe (Note: I did not make it 4 layers but kept it as two):

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/104539

The frosting was made from a recipe in my head - I stopped when it tasted "just right". Note: SG played an equal part in being a frosting taste-tester as well. Tough job, but someone had to help.

1. Beat about 80g of butter with a bit of vanilla and confectionery sugar (about 3/4 cup)

2. Melt dark/milk/or semi-sweet chocolate (I started with 50g, then 100g - ended up using about 150g in total)

3. Add chocolate and 2 cups sour cream and then add this to the sugar and butter combo

4. Keep adding chocolate/sour cream/sugar in small doses until you get the consistency and taste that you like

Because anyone who knows me, knows I'm big on texture - I also toasted coconut and put it in the middle layer and on top of the cake. You could easily do something similar with toasted almonds or pecans.

Frosting Note: As stated above I started with 50 g of chocolate mixed with 2 cups of sour cream. If you use that much sour cream, definitely use more chocolate. Alternatively you can use less sour cream and more butter. In the case of this frosting recipe, it's the balance between the chocolate/sugar/sour cream/butter. Sort of like life. The finding balance bit, not the sugar/dairy product bit.

Edible Theatre

NOTE: This entry is being written on about 8 hours of combined sleep from the past three nights. I'm not accountable for bad grammer/spelling/incoherencies.

Last night’s adventure to Heston Blumenthal’s The Fat Duck in Bray was edible theatre in 7 acts. Not the most tantalisingly tasty creations I’ve ever consumed, but without a doubt the most dramatic, “on the edge of your seat”, unbelievable combinations I’ve ever seen. Some dishes were a bit more straightforward than others, but often even when you expected one thing, you’d end up surprised with something else altogether.

The food wasn’t just served to be eaten. Like theatre, it was there to perform for us, engage our senses, and make for the most unusually wonderful dining experience I’ve ever had.

The evening was planned months in advance. The Fat Duck in Bray is arguably the best restaurant in Britain and in past years has been ranked one of the best in the world. With three Michelin stars, a two months in advance booking requirement and a £100 a head cancellation policy, reservations might be scarcer than Charlie’s golden ticket.

With some persistence and wanting to go around my birthday I was able to get a reservation for 9 p.m. last night. 4 of my lovely food loving friends tagged along for the train ride to Bray.

We opted for the 3 course prix fix to have a bit of control over our wallets and stomachs. After a beautiful glass of champagne, a lot of hemming and hawing with the waiter over what food and wine (1 white and 1 red) to order, we were served our first amuse bouche:

Grain mustard ice cream with cabbage gazpacho
A feast for the eyes, I only let a terribly small taste pass my lips. Of course it needed to be tried, but it should be noted that grain mustard is pretty much the food I hate most in the world. That and raw onions. And shockingly I’m not a big ice cream fan either, unless it’s home made. At least here I’m fairly certain this was the case. I’ve not noticed “Grain Mustard” flavour in Sainsbury or Waitrose.

The next appetite wetter was an oyster covered in Passionfruit jelly and lavender sugar. I was more fond of this one. I actually can’t remember the last time I tasted an oyster that reminded me so much of the sea. On it’s own it would have been overpowering. With the Passionfruit jelly it smoothed the rough edges enough to make the taste linger in a positive way.

As my starter I ordered the Cauliflower Risotto with Carpaccio of cauliflower and chocolate jelly (Photo 1). As it was served, chocolate was grated on top like cheese. I’ve no idea why, but it worked. Beautifully. Maybe it’s the combo of savoury and sweet that I always say works so well together. The Cauliflower carpaccio was essentially dried cauliflower. Just think of any dried fruit or veggie like a dried apricot or a sun dried tomato. Why not a dried cauliflower Heston thought?

FM also had a gorgeous starter of Scallop tartare, white chocolate and caviar.

Moving on to the mains; between the 5 of us we ordered:

Pot Roast Loin of Pork with Gratin of truffled macaroni

Saddle of Venison with Celeriac and sauce poivrade; civet of venison with pearl barley and red wine Venison and frankincense tea

Sole Veronique with Pommes Pont-Neuf (a very fancy fish and chips)

Best end of Lamb with Purée of onion and thyme, Hot pot of lamb neck, sweetbread and oyster

Out of the ones I tasted (all but the lamb) I enjoyed mine the most (the pork). Considering what we'd experienced thus far, it was somewhat tamely prepared. There were two cuts of pork, port tenderloin and pork belly, cooked for 72 hours. Served over sautéed cabbage and mushroom, it was in a light truffle sauce. The pork was wonderful, but I wasn't blown away by the truffled macaroni. I suppose the reason for this is because at The Fat Duck what you see (or read on the menu) is not what you get. Sometimes good and sometimes bad – but always an adventure and often that journey is the best bit.

Naturally I was expecting some gorgeous and rich cheesy mac 'n cheese with an amazing essence of truffles. However, there may have been a bit of cheese on top, but the pasta seemed to be swimming in beef stock. I didn’t get the “truffle” flavour I’d been expecting – and it was actually a bit too salty for me.

I should note at this time, that whilst we were embarking on our prix fix journey – we were surrounded by a few tables that opted for the dramatic 12 course tasting menu. Every time we looked around it would be more and more bizzare. For example, waiters serving something with liquid nitrogen: Nitro-Scrambled Egg And Bacon Ice Cream, Pain perdu, tea jelly.

We also saw diners with earphones on. As an audio "amuse bouche" to the "Sound of the Sea" course waiters served conch shells with ipod shuffles inside, playing the sound of the sea. Diners were instructed to use the ear phones and listen before eating.

Next for us lot was a pre-dessert dessert - Mrs. Marshall’s Margaret Cornet (Photo 2). Prior to receiving this mini-me ice cream cone we were given a small pamphlet on the life and times of Mrs. Agnes B. Marshall (1855-1905) who was dubbed the Queen of Ice Cream – and was “without question one of the greatest of Victorian cooks.” We were served her original recipe for apple ice cream. Lovely.

Three desserts were ordered at the table, all of which offered something delicious and unique.
Delice of Chocolate Chocolate sorbet, cumin caramel – Ordered by both R&ML, it appeared to be an unsuspecting chocolate dessert. However, it went buck wild (in a good way)when placed in my mouth. Baked into the centre of the dessert is what in the States we refer to as Pop Rocks – candy that pops and sizzles when you put it on your tongue. Not only did you have the taste of superb chocolate but the popping of the candy as well. It was a mini party in the mouth.

Chanteclerc Apple Fromage blanc, apple milk caramel and vanilla ice cream (Photo 3) -What was wonderful about this desert was that baked throughout the layers of puff pastry, fromage blanc, and apple gellee, was a bit of sea salt. Again, highlighting the salty-sweet combination. Partly sweet, partly tart from the apples, it had a bite of saltiness every so often – which was quite simply…fun to eat.

Macerated Strawberries with black olive and leather purée, pistachio scrambled egg -The only bit of this I tasted was the pistachio scrambled egg. Although the rest of the desert did not win rave reviews from the lovely AW, I absolutely adored my bite of pistachio scrambled egg. If you can break the psychological barrier of it's name, close your eyes (there was a lot of this last night) and just enjoy the pure taste, one might think that it tasted like a lovely warm pistachio custard. Not sure how many recipes for this I can find online…but I’m going to look!

Even though portion sizes were small we were all quite full at this point. However, not to forget our petit fours we were served the following:

Whiskey jellies (not a fan)
Lavender tartlets (Very sweet, but lovely)
Aerated mandarin chocolates – tasted like an Aero

Additionally after a “trade” with the table next to us (anything can happen at The Fat Duck) we were given a 6x8 silver photo frame. In the frame was a map of Scotland and Tenessee (random I know). Similar to our whisky jellies, Heston had created similar treats but smaller in size and in the shape of bottles. They were stuck on the glass of the photo frame on the location where the whisky they’d been made from was from (Photo 4). I don’t care how much I disliked the tiny bit I tasted – how could I absolutely NOT love every bit of this?

Will I be going back to The Fat Duck is the question? For anyone who loves food, especially experimenting with it, it is a definite place to visit. However, considering the cost, the distance from London (we had our taxi speed racer us back to the station to catch a 12:40 a.m. train), and that it should either be for a very special occasion or an expense account, it might be a while before I head back. I’m ok with that though. Having been engaged on so many levels, enjoyed the "special occasion" of my 30th and spent the time with some of my loveliest friends, I don’t imagine it’s going to stray too far from my memory any time soon.

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

House and Home

I’ve recently returned from 10 days in the good old USA. Half of my time there was spent nose-down in a training session eating what felt like 6-7 meals a day. I think that the organisers of these corporate trainings must have done extensive research and decided that retention increases when the trainees are presented with an unlimited supply of 4 course meals, jelly bellies, m&ms, and ice cream.

The other half of my time was spent on glorious Lake Winnipausaukee, NH. In this instance, a few of the meals had been planned in advance through emails back and forth across the pond. Some of the highlights (of which you should all be extremely jealous):

1. Imagine a large wrap-around-porch over looking the majestic lake, the wine is chilled and the BBQ heats up – on the menu that evening:

- Raspberry and Passionfruit bellinis
- Filet mignons with sautéed mushrooms and onions,
- Paddy pan squash stuffed with fresh corn, scallions, and feta cheese

- Homemade rhubarb pie

Now, I can’t claim glory on this delicious meal- nor do my simplistic descriptions really do it justice. My creation of the bellinis (I used fresh fruit) and the sautéing of the mushrooms and onions are all I can take credit for - ARC receives the honor for the meal.

2. The piece-de-resistance of my time at home was devoured the night before I flew back to London:
- Massive lobsters stuffed with a lobster and seafood stuffing (photo 1)
- Homemade ice cream sundaes with strawberries from the farm

I ate and ate and ATE that lobster like it was my last meal on earth (or the last time for a long while before I’d see a New England lobster again).

My arrival back into London was with BC in tow for a short weekend visit. BC hadn’t been to London since George Michael was singing “Faith” on the radio and as the car service I ordered whizzed us from Heathrow to Buckler Court I thought about what the weekend might have in store. Particularly since when we drove by Madame Tussauds, BC asked “ooh, that looks like fun, can we go there?” Hats off to BC though, all thoughts of tourists traps were immediately abandoned in favour of London markets and fun excursions around the city. Leaving my luggage of Trader Joe goodies and Tarjay purchases unpacked we immediately started eating our way around London.

Sunday night found me home again. This time at the gastropub House, located in Islington. FM joined BC and me for an early Sunday supper. In typical fashion I insisted in ordering last. After having difficulty deciding I finally bit the bullet and ordered two starters in lieu of a main dish. The two dishes could not have been more Jekyll and Hyde than if you found Gordon Ramsey serving a filet-o-fish meal at McDonalds.

Firstly, my coconut confit duck salad with green mango, papaya & nam jim dressing (photo 2) sparkled with the most amazing flavours and texture. Everything was perfectly balanced. If I’d really been home I would have licked the plate and “5-second ruled” the piece of duck confit that fell on the floor.

Strikingly opposite to this was my second starter - Muscat pear and Ragstone goat's cheese risotto. Not only was it bleak and soulless looking (photo 3) - but it tasted that way too. Amazingly the risotto was thick, creamy, and porridge-like whilst managing to successfully have zero taste. The pears were hard and unripe to boot.

Luckily for me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. By not eating my flavourless glue, I was able to save room for dessert – which was not fussy in the slightest but truly enjoyable. Because Dana wouldn’t be Dana without a small special request here and there…I ordered the warm valrhona chocolate pudding with espresso ice cream with their home-made strawberry gelato instead of the espresso ice cream. Essentially the chocolate pudding was a decently good warm/soft chocolate brownie covered in home-made chocolate sauce and slivered almonds. The combination of the chocolate brownie with the strawberry gelato was nothing short of musical. Sometimes, every so often you come across a simple flavour combination that’s nearly perfect – this was it. The gelato tasted like fresh sweet strawberries spiked with a teensy bit of cream – balanced with the brownie – it was like a mini mardi-gras in my mouth.

10 for £1

There are very few bargains to be had in the city of London. Mercer recently ranked London as the second most expensive city in the world to live (up from #5 last year). Consider such facts like not using an Oyster* card to travel on London’s underground; to simply go from one Zone 1 stop to another Zone 1 stop (even if they are right next to each other) it would cost a whopping £4 ($8).

As a result, I’ve had to somewhat curb my life’s motto of “good food is the one thing I will always spend money on.” When a pint of strawberries is often £3.99 (8 bucks) and an “inexpensive” meal out is £15-£20 ($30-$40) it’s no surprise I sometimes have to do a double take on the tiny piece of camembert with black truffles from piedmont (£7.99 -$15) and put it back on the shelf (tear).

Which is why I was somewhat surprised by the cheap-o bananas I bought just outside my flat last Saturday night. A man had set up a makeshift stand outside of his 24 hour off-license*. It was about midnight and amongst other things, he was also selling 10 bananas for £1. Not 8 and not 12. You had to purchase exactly 10. Seeing as I don’t have a family of monkeys living with me (usually), I knew some of the bananas would go bad. Hey, it was a risk I was willing to take – plus they were cheap!

Today (6 days after the banana purchase) I came back to London after my last week in Warrington. I had 7 bananas still sitting on my counter. Not rotten like I had half expected but perfectly ripe for baking. I couldn’t waste them.

Caramelised Banana Bread

I’ve only once caramelised bananas before - and they were for a chocolate tart, so this was a bit of an experiment for me. The main difference I noticed was that the banana bread seemed moister than usual, which to me is always a good thing!

6 ripe bananas
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp butter, broken into little pieces
1 tsp cinnamon
1 and 2/3 cup flour
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp cinnamon
½ tsp salt
1 stick - 113 grams butter
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2/3 cup sour cream
Pecans

Grease a loaf pan with butter and flour
Preheat oven to 180 Celsius or 356 Fahrenheit

Make the caramelised bananas:
Slice bananas about ¼ inch thick and place in oven safe dish
Mix with brown sugar, cinnamon and butter and cook in oven for about 20 minutes or until liquid forms around bananas and they are “puffy” looking
Set aside

Make the banana bread:
In a small bowl mix the flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon and salt. Set aside.
In a larger bowl beat butter and sugars together
Add eggs and vanilla to butter/sugar mixure
Mix in the sour cream and flour mixture alternating in two parts each.
Fold in caramelised bananas
Pour into prepared loaf pan and sprinkle with pecans on top
Bake in the oven for about 35-45 minutes or until tester in middle comes out clean. Note: I didn’t think it was going to take this long and it may have been due to my oven. Keep an eye on the banana bread. If it starts to brown on top but isn’t quite done yet, simply place a piece of aluminium foil on top of it until it's cooked through


*Oyster Card - An electronic ticketing card for the London underground – supposedly it makes things easier for the people that run the underground. As a result, you get “discounted” fares if you use it. I read recently 80% of travellers have one. Considering the price without, I’m surprised it’s not even higher!

*Off-license – convenience store that sells booze

Coconut lemon shortcake with muddled balsamic berries

After Bubba's I treated RL to some delicious shortcake. Not to toot my own horn, but it turned out really well. While really yum, it was also quite heavy. Make sure you have a light meal before hand or better yet, just wait until much later in the day when you can whole heartedly pig out.

Coconut lemon shortcake with lemon whipped cream and muddled balsamic berries

To make the shortcake:

2 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
115 grams (1/2 cup) chilled butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1/2 cup coconut milk
1 tbsp lemon rind
1 egg
1/4 cup coconut

Preheat oven to 200°C (390°F).
Line baking sheet with parchment paper
Mix first 4 ingredients in large bowl
Add butter and rub with fingertips until well blended
Add coconut milk, lemon peel and egg together in small bowl
Add wet mixture to dry until smooth dough forms
Put some flour on the parchment paper and flatten dough out
You want the biscuits about 2-3 inches wide so find a glass that has a similar diameter and use that to cut the dough in circles (it should make about 7-10 and they should be about 3/4 inch thick)
Space them out on the baking sheet and bake them for about 15 minutes or until they are lightly browned on the bottom
Cool. (You can reheat if you want when it's time to serve)


To make the lemon whipped cream:

1 cup double cream (heavy or whipping cream)
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1/4-1/3 cup sugar
Dash vanilla extract

Beat all ingredients with an electric mixer until whipped cream consistency forms

To make muddled balsamic berries:

1 pint fresh blueberries
1 pint fresh strawberries
1 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsps sugar
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

Mix all 5 ingredients together.
Remove half of berry mixture to another bowl and muddle with the back of a spoon releasing the juices from the berries...don't release too much anger on them - keep them slightly intact!
Combine berries back into one bowl again and let sit for 20-30 minutes

Assemble!
Cut shortcake in half, cut side up
Add a big dollop of the lemon cream on top
Add a big scoop of berries and juice on top of cream
Top with top-half of shortcake

Yankee Doodle

I don’t feel one lick of guilt about admitting to the fact that the best thing about today’s BBQ adventure was the imported Sam Adams I had with my lunch. Since the 4th of July is on a Wednesday and I’ll be working away in the dark and rainy Work-ington, I “forced” RL to celebrate the 4th with me on Sunday, July 1st. The day entailed BBQ at a place called “Arkansas”, followed by a home-made American summer-time dessert at Chez Dana’s (see next entry).

Arkansas BBQ is a little joint located inside Spitalfields market. Complete with sticky bbq sauce bottles and plastic menus and cutlery, they don’t stand on any pretence.

The owner is an America guy named Bubba, who I am convinced made up the name to ham up (no pun intended) the whole Yankee in London thing. He must have picked the most honky-tonk name he could find to give Arkansas an “authentic” feel, whereas I’ll betcha anything his real name is Norman or something similar.

Bubba’s feet stuck to the linoleum and the floor seemed to sag just a little too much as he strolled our way to make some small talk. Straight away, he started telling us he’d only just found out he was distantly related to George Dubbya! And, low and behold, could we believe that his family had come over on the Mayflower? RL was doing most of the talking (I was doing the eye-rolling) so when I finally started speaking and he realised I was a fellow Yank he sort of did a double-take like he’d just been found with his hand in the cookie jar. He asked where I was from, and I told him Boston. Apparently, not the right answer. Bubba responded with “well why are you so nice then?”

I’m sure he was just joking around, but something about him was just a teensy bit annoying. Still, since he meant no harm, and seeing that Arkansas is closing for good and going kaput on the 4th of July this year – I let the Boston bashing slide.

On to the main event! I ordered the pork rib and RL ordered the beef rib. Both dishes were served with an assortment of quite unsavoury sides (no selection process, you get a bit of everything). There were a couple different coleslaws, a potato salad, and a bean, corn and pea salad. RL inquisitively asked if the bean, corn, and peas were “baked beans”? “Um, not quite” I said. I explained that nothing on that plate resembled any sort of “side dish” I typically enjoy when I go for some good BBQ. Where was the MacNCheese? The Sweet Potatahs? The Baked Beans? A TASTY coleslaw? I mean, for the love… England is a country that prides itself on it’s infatuation with baked beans. They put them on their toast and baked potatoes – Bubba couldn’t even find some Heinz to serve up??

OK, now to be fair I didn’t go to Arkansas for the sides, I went for the BBQ – so I was still willing to forgive the lack of tastiness surrounding my plate in exchange for some good meat. My pork rib (no, not ribs – uno rib) was actually quite tasty. The meat was tender and not too fatty and the sauce was actually quite good, a nice balance of sweet and vinegar. I wish there’d been at least 1 more! RL’s beef rib on the other hand was so-so. The flavour was pretty good, but the meat was a bit dry and fatty. It just didn't do it for me.

I think Bubba was trying to capitalise on the Brits lack of knowledge about what really good American BBQ is. Unfortunately at the end of the day – Arkansas just isn’t that good, isn’t that tasty, and isn’t that enjoyable of a venue. It’s sort of fitting and ironic that it’s closing for good on the 4th of July this year.

I’m sure it won’t be too big of a deal though, Norman probably has plans with this cousin, George Dubbya.

Note: There is totally a great market for some seriously good American BBQ here in London – there’s only one other place I know of…and it’s owned and run by a guy from Belgium. Any takers??