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Toast!
Breville, now there’s a name you don’t really hear much of anymore. It’s not like Ronco, gone to the great brand graveyard, and yet there was a time when it strode the world like a colossus whilst now it merely wanders about like a lost kid in a mall.
They were famous for their sandwich toaster; it may even have been the product that made the company’s name and fortune. My family had one, every family had one, and after initial manic use they either ended up under the sink along with the Ronco button master and with their plugs removed by a dad too indolent to go to Woolworths, or they were solemnly bequeathed to a child about to go to University.
That’s how I got mine, my mother feeling that I would otherwise starve. In fact I had already mastered the art of making spaghetti Bolognese as well as curry/stew (one contained curry powder, one didn’t) so I was quite safe. All I recall about using the Breville at university are clouds of acrid cheesy smoke on the staircase by my rooms and the college porter giving me a lecture on fire drill. Read more…
Bacon buddies. Two Americans have created a Bacon Salt that is even kosher
Addiction ahoy
Are you old enough to remember when crisps only came ready salted? The vast range of flavours now available were but a gleam in Gary Linneker’s eye, we were just grateful we didn’t have to search for those cute little blue bags of salt anymore.
Sometimes you got more than one, sometimes you got none, it all depended on the whim of the packing machine or possibly Doris on the production line ‘oop north.
When flavours did arrive one of the first was Smoky Bacon. To a young boy’s taste buds it was quite delicious and the best bit was tipping up the bag to fill your mouth with salty bacony dust after you’d eaten all the crisps. I tell you, we really had to make our own amusements back then.
Second best, for me at least, was the dust from Salt n Vinegar crisps, so a box arriving on my desk containing virtuously Natural Malt Salt, as well as proudly artificially flavoured Bacon Salt, made my day. Off with the lids and in with the tasting spatula, well ok a biro. Created by two friends, Justin and Dave, with the help of $5000 loaned by Dave’s 3 year old son (long story) these salts have savour. Read more…
London Oyster Guide by Colin Pressdee
Go buy the book
‘We’re all going to die!’ screamed the Daily Mail headline warning us of the dangers of eating oysters. Well okay it didn’t quite say that but their general gist was that oysters were very bad for you indeed.
Piffle, balderdash and a fluffy finger up to that, as Stephen Fry might say. Oysters are lovely and oysters from reputable suppliers are as safe as safe can be, having been purified before they get to us.
So forget the scare stories and cuddle up to an oyster or six, it’s one of life’s greatest eating pleasures and an example of how simple can so often be the very best. Lift the lid on a briny bivalve and tip it into your mouth, bite gently to release the flavour and then swallow. No, Stephen Fry did not say that, although he might.
Colin Pressdee is an oyster aficionado as well as a fine foodie. He was born in the town of Oystermouth, an oyster fishing village dating back to the Romans, so it was perhaps inevitable he’d be a mollusc muncher all his life. Indeed he once opened a restaurant called the Oyster Perches.
This book, created together with the Shellfish Association of Great Britain, looks at over 150 restaurants, bars, markets, merchants, retailers and producers to be a definitive guide to getting your oyster fix in London. From an intro that explains the difference between Native and Pacific, the seasons for oysters, how to open them (easier than you think) it goes all the way on to how to present them. But why bother when so many restaurants will serve up a glistening plate for you?
Shell out
And so Colin is off, exploring all areas of London for the best of the briniest. Clear address details, nearest tube station and brief description of the restaurant make the guide easy to use. Each restaurant entry also carries a price guide and suggestion for wine.
As you eat your oyster, pull the book out of your pocket and mug up on the author’s guide to the different styles and tastes offered by the various UK oyster producers; they are all very unique and terroir shines through. And if you do buy a bag to take home, there are recipes in the book to make the most of them. While any oyster eater will tell you raw is best, simply slipped from the shell, there are cooked oyster recipes in the book that offer unusual and interesting pleasures.
If you are already an oyster eater, then this book sells itself. If you are still, as some people amazingly are, horrified by the thought of oysters then perhaps Colin’s infectious enthusiasm will encourage you to give an oyster a go. Packed with goodness, undoubtedly good for you and very much a UK product to be proud of, oysters open up a whole new world of taste and pleasure.
{ISBN:1905582560}
Breakfast at The Arts Club, London
The Arts Club 40 Dover Street London W1S 4NP
Pretty as a picture
I am not an artist, never been one, although the lifestyle certainly appeals; the birds, the booze, the brawls, the South Bank shows and the lovely cottage in the Dordogne, what’s not to like? And if I was an artist I could then become a member of the Arts Club in Mayfair and enjoy a breakfast like this every day.
Founded in 1863 by, amongst others Charles Dickens and Anthony Trollope, the Georgian townhouse is unremarkable from the outside, as is right and proper. In fact all you really see is your reflection in the gloss black of the door. Inside is a subtle reception, stylish people man (men?) the desk and the latest iMac, surely not actually needed not just for reception, has its imperious designer back to you. It looks good of course, this is not a place to have a Dell on display after all. What artist ever used a PC? Read more…
The Bratwurst, Soho
38 Berwick Street, Soho, London W1F 8RT www.the-bratwurst.com
Wurst pic ever?
When I was a kid, my dad and I once watched a group of Frenchmen swim out to a rock, pull teaspoons from their scandalously skimpy swim trunks, and proceed to eat sea urchins fresh off the rocks. An elderly German gent watching, the same age as my dad and so also a war veteran, shook his head and turned to him and said ‘Ve should nevair haff fought!’
If we had one thing in common with the Germans back then it was a suspicion of ‘foreign food’ and a glum delight in our own. Since then we’ve seen a revival of our country’s food fortunes but Germany still languishes under a perception of meat, suet and sauerkraut as the only food available. Read more…
South Lodge Hotel, Horsham, East Sussex
Lord of all it surveys
I have a soft spot for country house hotels, one fuelled by being glued to Downton Abbey every Sunday. Yes I know it’s only Upstairs Downstairs for 2000 but I like to sigh wistfully and imagine what I would do in the Earl of Grantham’s brogues faced with all his posh problems.
One of them, not mentioned, must be the fact that’s he’s trying to run a house the size of Kent with apparently no more than twelve indoor staff. We never see the poor man who has to run the Flymo over the hundreds of acres outside, presumably he is confined to a small hut.
Turning into the drive of South Lodge Hotel from the old Brighton Road, you get the sweep of driveway and suddenly the view of the house itself. Massively enlarged since being turned into a hotel it has been done with sympathy and only the newness of the bricks really gives away where new wings have been grafted on.
Meet me in the drawing room
This means my head movie, where I am greeted by genuflecting loyal staff, is retained all the way up to the front desk. They have built a whole new reception area in front of what was once the original front door, which is a bit odd, but it works if you don’t wonder why there are exterior windows between internal rooms. It has a big old fireplace and must be particularly welcoming in winter. Read more…
The Rosendale, West Dulwich
65 Rosendale Road, West Dulwich, London, SE21 8EZ www.therosendale.co.uk
A big old boozer in sarf lundun
I once heard a food writer say ‘Oh we don’t like chain restaurants’. I assumed he was using the royal ‘we’ but no. Apparently he was referring to some mysterious cabal, the admission criteria being snobbery.
He might have liked it at The Rosendale though, as the clientele has upper middle class written all over it. Close enough to Dulwich to draw in the local wealth, The Rosendale on our night was packed with thick-haired young men and beautiful blonde girls all drawn from the same gene pool and already firmly set on their Life Cruise Control.
Saved from ruin some years ago this lovely old boozer has real character and could well be in Highgate or Islington instead of, technically I think, West Norwood. Renaissance Pubs has done it out nicely in Gastro Pub, the new paint from Farrow and Ball, and it has a decent outside area for smoking, a garden and plenty of space to park prams. One of which is quite important to me. Read more…
Ducksoup, Soho
No expense spared
Is it a good idea to grill lemons? Is it a good idea to incinerate artichokes? Is it a good idea to open a minimalist bar restaurant in Soho?
I like simple griling, frying and roasting but an artichoke subjected to intense heat resembles something saved from a bonfire with a lot of burnt leaves and a subsequent vicious struggle for the tender centre. Grilling lemons adds a pleasant caramilisation but makes the seeds even more bitter in the mouth than usual. The Fritto Misto at Ducksoup, a new London restaurant, might be better named a Fritto Mysterioso, as in ‘why would they do that?’ Read more…
Tea time treats from the London Tea Company
These delicious teas have been sweetening the foetid air of the Foodepedia offices, staffed as they are by people who eat for a living and thus suffer from alimentary gusts and breezes, for a week or so now. It is suddenly like being in a boudoir, or the offices of The Lady perhaps. Even served in our hilarious tea mugs ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps’, the tea’s delicate nature remains undisturbed.
Green tea, it has been recently claimed, may ward off cancer, which is something we should all be trying to do obviously. Not least as there may well be no public health service to wash and bathe us in our autumnal years and green tea is cheaper than selling the house over the children’s heads to afford private care.
It’s the antioxidants that do it of course. Green tea is loaded with them but all too often, for me at least, it actually tastes medicinal. Nanny’s edict that if tastes horrible it is doing you good, never struck a chord with me.
London Tea’s Green Tea is very delicate and one of the few green teas I can actually drink without effort.
Favourite though is the White Tea with elderflower, lemongrass and a hint of apricot. Not only does it taste rather wonderful and smell even better, it has all the benefits of White Tea which is made from the youngest buds of the tea plant.
These teas are part of a large range from a rather cool company. www.londontea.co.uk
Bedruthan Steps. Charlie don’t surf, but we can at least walk
Let the train take the strain
There’s a magic moment as the First Great Western train leaves Exeter when you finally know that you’ve quit London. Suddenly the monotonous banks of earth and fields of green give way onto what seems like an endless expanse of water. The wet sand is reflecting a late September sun and small boats lean drunkenly in all directions, patiently waiting the return of the tide to float them back to sober and dignified bobbing.
It’s enough to make even the most tired and jaded Londoner perk up and look forward to the upcoming weekend break. With no car to worry about the only pressure is getting through the wodge of Saturday papers sprawled across the table. Our destination, Bedruthan Steps is 200 or so miles away and it’s good to let someone else do the driving for once. Read more…
Nick Harman 