Blaggers Banquet - prep talk

The blogosphere has been buzzing with Blaggers' Banquet talk lately.  In case you missed it, last Sunday 50 food and wine bloggers took over Hawksmoor restaurant in London in a huge charity blogging event.  We blagged and blagged til our slippery tongues could blag no more.  All the ingredients for the dinner, the wine, the goodie bags and a fantastic selection of auction prizes were blagged from our PR contacts.  We then sold tickets, all in aid of Action Against Hunger.



After a couple of weeks gathering support from our very generous contacts, the big day finally came.  I arrived bright and early at Hawksmoor, to find the place full - of food, bloggers and wine.  Vegetables and fruit needed sorting, the menu needed last minute tweaks to accommodate ingredients we thought we had, goody bags needed stuffing and auction prizes sorting.
The vegetable spread from Riverford was particularly impressive, if muddy, and I spent part of the morning dicing with death (or at least nicked fingers) making parsnip crisps on the mandoline.

Goody bags were very good indeed - absolutely packed with treats generously provided by our PR pals.

Lizzie (or @Hollowlegs) and I will be forever after known as the Greasy Gougeres Girls, after a slightly disturbing and slippery encounter with a choux-filled cheesy pastry bag.

Denise and Billy kept a close eye (or should that be nose?) on the wine.












I was gutted to have to go home before the event really kicked off, but from the photos (all taken by @Foodbymark), I can rest safe in the thought that the diners all had a great time.

The fun doesn't stop there though.  Our auction, with some truly fantastic prizes like tasting menus, chocolate tastings and more, is currently running on Ebay and more prizes will be drip-fed as the weeks go on.  The perfect place for a foodie friend's Christmas present, or maybe just a treat for yourself!

The Westerly, Reigate

The Westerly is a bit of a local favourite. With a bib gourmand under its belt since 2008, it is a modern British bistro run by husband and wife team Jon and Cynthia Coomb.

Praise has been heaped on the Westerly since it opened in 2007, with even Jay Rayner and Simon Majumdar trekking down from London to review it.

Jay described it as “stunning” while Simon pronounced it “almost flawless”.  And I am lucky enough to live just 5 minutes down the road from it.

Of course this wasn't the first time I had been to The Westerly. I'd just always been too lazy to blog about it, preferring to keep relaxed Surrey food to myself and leave the photo snapping and criticism for nights out at the big boys in London.

But, I decided, the time had come. Starting to feel a bit jaded with all the faddy, pop up, underground, “latest concept” new openings in the big smoke, it was quite a revelation to be tucking into honest, non-fancy but very, very good food.

It was a horrible rainy night outside, but as we entered the cosy dining room we felt immediately at home.

I sipped on my apertif of prosecco with pomegranate and perused the menu. There's always a variation of pig's head croquette, and tonight was no exception, but I decided to try something I wouldn't normally have. I went for mackerel with granny smith apple and curry oil. The presentation was simple, the mackerel smokey and rich, with the apple giving a tart sweetness and the curry oil adding some heat to this perfectly rounded dish.



The main course was more problematic, leaving me stumped as to whether to have duck or crisp belly of pork. On Cynthia's advice, I went for the duck confit and roast magret with potatoes and chorizo. I wasn't convinced about the chorizo-duck combination, but the chorizo was scarce enough for it not to be a worry. The confit leg was absolute perfection – golden crispy skin and succulent meat that fell off the bone at the mere thought of eating it. The magret was pink and tasty, and it was all served in an earthily savoury jus. The roast rump of lamb with pesto and gnocchi was also pronounced a success by my husband.



Pudding was the real climax of the evening though, and The Westerly will probably take prime position on the leaderboard in Pudding of the Year, so far. While my hubby went for the Westerly's old faithful, chocolate malt ice cream with a peanut butter cookie, I tried a new addition to the menu. The Pedro Ximenez and raisin jelly with burnt almond cream was true dessert genius. It came served with a buttery almond biscuit, wrapped up in waxed paper, which I greedily dipped into the topping. The jelly was studded with huge, plump, sherry-soaked raisins which tempered perfectly with the sweet foamy cream. Heaven.

Apart from the great food there are several other lovely things about The Westerly. They serve a good selection of wines in carafes of 350ml and 500ml, plus lovely dessert wines by the glass. They also do an excellent line in hot cocktails (also known as boozy coffee / hot chocolate). I finished my evening off with a hot chocolate with cognac, which set me up for a great night's sleep.

The bill came to just under £100 for two, excluding service but including two apertifs, one 500ml carafe of pinot noir, two glasses of dessert wine, one coffee and one hot chocolate with cognac.

The Westerly
2-4 London Road, Regiate, Surrey RH2 9AN
01737 222733

Fernandez & Leluu

Underground restaurants are definitely the latest big thing, although the trend actually hit British shores over 9 months ago when the mysterious MsMarmiteLover started her supper club in Kilburn. The scene seems to have really captured the media's imagination recently. Whether it be incompetent restauranteurs making a meal of it in their own homes or in front of Raymond Blanc, duff amateur cooking seems to be too good a TV opportunity to pass up. But what would be the reality of underground dining - great food at bargain prices in a relaxed environment or incompetent fame-seekers jumping on the latest bandwagon?

Deciding we had gone long enough without trying this new craze, and with some trepidation after watching last week's The Restaurant, we set off on the journey from rural Surrey to trendy Hackney.

Fernandez & Leluu is run by Uyen and Simon from a secret location about a mile from Bethnal Green tube. As we arrived at 7.30, our coats were taken by the smiley Uyen, we were plied with wine and shown to our table. There were twenty of us in the room, which was decked out beautifully with twinkly little tealights, charmingly mismatched crockery and flowers.

At 8pm we started our 6 courses with a hot and sour soup of catfish, tomato and pineapple. Uyen warned us to watch the bones, which was certainly good advice. The soup was fragrant and light, with lashings of coriander.  We settled in, feeling relieved that Simon obviously could cook.

Terriyaki frogs legs came with a shot of basil seed in sugar water (frog spawn). The meat was perfectly tender and lightly marinaded in a sticky umami-rich coating. The frog spawn was all looks and no flavour, but we appreciated the halloweeny touch.
 

It was now 9.30, and we were served with beautifully presented spring rolls, which were quite simply the best I have ever had. Apparently the virtuous Simon and Uyen had been up til 1.30am the previous night making them, and their efforts had clearly paid off. The wrappings were crisp and the interior was absolutely stuffed with sweet prawns, pork, black fungus and glass noodles.

 


Next was tuna sashimi, served with chips in a witty take on the British classic. The fish was fantastic quality, served in juicy cubes with a light soy marinade. The chips were Hind's Head worthy, well seasoned and perfectly crispy.



Sashimi swallowed, and we were served with some delicious seared beef and sugarsnap peas.  The meat was top quality and melted in the mouth.


By 11pm we were tucking into red chicken & squash curry with rice - this was less spectacular but still very tasty. So tasty in fact, that I forgot to take a photo until I had almost finished!





We finally finished course number six, green tea ice cream with a crunchy ginger shortbread, at 12.20am, 5 hours after we had arrived. Fernandez & Leluu is by no means fast food, so be prepared to take your time (and plan your transport accordingly). The quality of cooking is fantastic though, and as they say, good things come to those who wait.

As it was we hailed a cab to Victoria, ran for the 1am train and were safely back to the 'burbs and tucked up in bed by 2am. Fernandez & Leluu has certainly won me over to underground dining, and if only I lived a little closer I would definitely be a regular.

Fernandez & Leluu
Somewhere in Hackney

Suggested donation £30

Gourmet San

Gourmet San is the stuff of foodie legend. World class szechuan cuisine? Check. Gritty East London location? Check. Huge portions? Check. Rock bottom prices? Check.

After a disappointing time at Polpo, it was a relief to find that budget food in London can be tasty and great value. Gourmet San is clean and simple, with service swift and as friendly as could be expected with little language in common. But the food, oh the food!

The highlight had to be the heap of crab studded with chillies and szechuan peppercorns. It was a messy business (and seemingly impossible with chopsticks), but the spicy white meat that we chewed, sucked and slurped out of the shells was worth the effort.





















Old Place Sauteed Crab in Hot Spicy Sauce £12

The sauteed shredded beef was a star anise infused delight, generously sized and bursting with tongue-tingling chunks of hot green chilli.


Sauteed Shredded Beef Fillet with Hot Pepper £7
Fried Spinach in Garlic Sauce £7 (in background)

Pig tendons (a random choice) were more problematic, although what meat I could detach from the sticky lumps of bone was savoury and gelatinous. Don't attempt these with chopsticks either, especially if you're wearing a white shirt.


Pig's Tendon with Spicy Salt £7

The vegetarian dishes were also successful. We tried the tofu with chives and bean sprouts, not as spicy as some of the other dishes but very moreish. Spinach was served in the sort of pungent sauce that leaves you still garlicky 48 hours later.


Sauteed Hotbed Chives & Bean Sprouts with Dried Tofu £7

Rice never arrived, but to be honest we didn't care and left feeling well fed and looking forward to our next visit. The whole lot came in at £55 for four, including 4 beers and a pot of green tea.

Gourmet San
261 Bethnal Green Road, London E2 6AH
020 7729 8388

London Restaurant Festival - Gourmet Odyssey

After the recent excesses of London Restaurant Festival, the blogosphere has been buzzing with reviews of Koffman’s pop-up restaurant on the roof at Selfridges. However, your faithful correspondent here at Princess Towers decided to investigate the Gourmet Odyssey instead (or rather, couldn't get a table at Koffman's).

The Odyssey consisted of a huge blow-out Michelin starred lunch, with each course at a different restaurant and intra-course transfer by jolly red double-decker. A great opportunity to try some new places and some oldies-but-goodies. Maybe it would even help to satisfy my purse-intensive restaurant obsession by dining at three in one day? It was worth a try.

We started with champagne at the Met Bar, that somewhat underwhelming nightspot beloved of the Gallaghers et al in the brit-pop era. It was interesting mix of people, mostly well-to-do flash types, a few younger couples and a chap in shorts and trainers who seemed blissfully unaware of his level of underdress. We were tagged, in pink naturally, by our host/nanny/herder Caz, so as not to get confused with one of the other groups and miss our bus. The poor girl looked a bit harassed, and I don’t blame her as the free-flowing Mumm top-ups meant that I for one was pretty tipsy before we even started.



Champagne duly quaffed, we tripped upstairs to Nobu, the first European offshoot in this forever growing Japanese restaurant group. The swish Nobu lunching regulars looked slightly disturbed to see such a motley crew of foodies traipsing in, but soon got back to their sashimi as we were safely tucked away in the canteen, ahem, I mean private dining room.



The room was a bit sparse, maybe minimalist is the term, but it was certainly large. Our group of eighty or so was seated at two long tables where we tried a trio of Nobu’s best-selling dishes - Lobster Ceviche, Salmon Sashimi Salad with Matsuhisa dressing and Yellowtail Sashimi with Jalapeno. I can see why celebs like to dine here - it tastes healthy and it is genuinely delicious, albeit in a light, fresh and subtle way. Friendly on the palate and friendly on the waistline. My favourite dish was the salmon, tender, luscious and served in a gorgeous sesame sludge that was infuriatingly difficult to mop up with chopsticks. No wonder these girls stay thin.



And then we were off, herded from our seats and downstairs to the bus, with some big grins from the lovely staff on the way. A quick trundle through Mayfair and we were at our main course destination.

The Square couldn’t have been more different from Nobu. We had been there before (and loved it) but wondered whether the private dining would be big enough. It obviously wasn’t, as the fabulous staff seamlessly wafted us into tables of twos or fours, depending on how many tickets had been booked together. This was nice, a true 2* experience (I have never been hugely into sharing a table with strangers), and quite an achievement under the circumstances too.

Seated in prime position, we pounced on the bread like wolves, the hunger really kicking in now after our fishy sliver of a starter. It didn’t disappoint. White was crisp and pointy with a fluffy interior. Brown was hefty and hearty. Butter was perfect.



Fay Maschler of the Evening Standard was our host for this course, a rich, decadent and autumnal French dish of wild mallard served two ways - pan fried breast and a pie (or should that be a pastie?) of rich, dark, slow cooked leg with port and raisins, all served with pumpkin and chestnuts.

Our high expectations of The Square were fully met, resulting in an impromptu (and somewhat alcohol fuelled) dash to the front desk by me to make a dinner reservation for December. Phil Howard worked the tables, although he didn’t get round to us (maybe next time?). He obviously had huge passion for the food and quite right too as it was sheer perfection in duck form.

Main course over and visions of Phil's glorious raspberry souffle came to mind. We really didn’t want to leave, but leave we had to. Back on the bus, next stop The Greenhouse.

The Greenhouse is tucked away in a Mayfair mews that was too tight for our bus. It’s one of those places like Roussillon that I had heard of but never got round to visiting. It really was like a greenhouse, all subterranean, moist and leafy. And, well, green.

The dish was described as “Carré Dubuffet” Chocolate Biscuit and Vanilla Ice Cream. Not the most exciting of desserts we thought, but that was until we saw the plates.



The “biscuit” was a triumph - a sort of brownie, mousse, tuile combination that managed to be rich and chocolatey and moist and gooey and crisp all at the same time. Here we were seated at a table of four, more civilised than Nobu but more sociable than The Square. We were paired with a lovely couple from Cambridge who obviously knew their restaurants and made great foodie dinner companions.

And so we came to the end, back on the bus to the Met Bar for a final bellini and some Stone Roses nostalgia. Then we teetered home, feeling slightly disorientated by the large amount of alcohol and food consumed in broad daylight and hoping that we wouldn't fall asleep on the train home.

The Gourmet Odyssey was a fabulous experience and, although expensive at £130 for lunch, it gave us a great introduction to some restaurants that we otherwise might not have tried. It wasn't a typical Michelin star experience due to the logistics of herding such a huge group around, but all things considered, it was a pretty slick operation and we left with our tummies full, our palates titillated and our minds brimming with new ideas.

And as for kicking my restaurant habit? Not a chance. We now have reservations at Nobu, The Square and The Greenhouse to look forward to later in the year…

Nobu, 19 Old Park Lane, Mayfair, London W1K 1LB
The Square, 6-10 Bruton Street, Mayfair, London W1J 6PU
The Greenhouse, 27a Hays Mews, Mayfair, London W1J 5NX

Polpo, Soho - a bit of a no-no

The occasion: the award ceremony to distribute prizes from a disastrous food quiz way back in February; the attendees: Helen of Food Stories, Chris of Cheese and Biscuits, Su Lin of Tamarind & Thyme and yours truly; the venue: Polpo, the latest hot "Venetian tapas" restaurant opening in Soho.

While Venice isn't exactly known for its food, our expectations of Polpo were high after its comprehensive media coverage and significant twitter-hype. The restaurant had already achieved 4/5 in Time Out and 3/5 in the Metro, always a good sign. Restaurant magazine recently featured two pages on this new venture, where I learnt that the co-owner, Russell Norman, was previously operations director of Caprice Holdings and the head chef had "a brief stint" at Bocca di Lupo. So far so good.

We eager four arrived at the restaurant, tucked away in a Soho side street almost opposite Bob Bob Ricard. It was dimly candle-lit (hence the lack of photos), absolutely packed and had quite a buzz. While checking in with the waitress, people walking in off the street were being turned away, so busy was the restaurant that night. The stripped down brickwork and brown paper menus developed the rustic theme Russell was clearly looking for. Service was youthful and friendly and the menu looked delicious. A different take on tapas. Our mouths were watering.

So we ordered a selection of plates - 3 or 4 per person seemed to be the done thing although no advice was offered by our waitress. We were intrigued by the pricing - some dishes seeming pretty reasonable but the turnip tops in particular stuck out as being very expensive at £5.80, the same price as the slow roast duck. We decided to order them, thinking they must be cooked in some spectacular, decadent fashion. We also ordered a selection of breads, seafood, meat and veg.

After quaffing a bit of reasonably priced Venetian wine, our waitress arrived with the pizzetta bianca. It was ok. The dough was thin and crisp, and the cheese and onion topping was, well, cheese and oniony. Not spectacular, but not horrendous either. An ok bar snack.

Next to arrive were the arancini, crisped golf balls of risotto stuffed with courgette and stringy cheese. I love risotto, I love cheese and I love crispy fried stuff. It doesn't seem like a difficult thing to get right. But these had absolutely no seasoning whatsoever. Faces were starting to fall around the table. Su Lin got out the salt shaker. We tried to keep our spirits up and held out hope for the next dishes.

We devoured plates of mussels & clams, slow roast duck with green peppercorns, black olives and tomatoes, pork belly with radicchio and hazelnuts, anchovy and chick pea crostini, cuttlefish in its ink, octopus salad, fennel with bobby beans and cobnuts. The duck was bland. The octopus was too salty. The mussels were not all open. The pork belly was just ok.

None of it was delicious, or even tasty for that matter, save the cuttlefish cooked in its own ink which was good. It was as if no-one in the kitchen was tasting the food, no love or care had gone into it. We were truly upset, Helen looked like she was going to cry. We wondered, charitably, if were choosing the wrong dishes, or if they were just having a bad night, but then half the menu can't be wrong - can it?

And then came the turnip tops. It's a real shame that the place was so dark that my pictures didn't come out, but try to imagine this: a small dish of bedraggled spinach. For £5.80. "Aren't turnip tops what you feed to sheep?", asked Su Lin. "Yes", we all agreed, "and they probably get more than one between four". It was truly shameful. The night will forever afterwards be known as Turnip-Top-Gate, if we can ever bear to speak of it.

So we got to the end of this mediocre spread and felt deeply disappointed and also pretty hungry.

Re-reading the Restaurant article today, I discovered that Polpo means Octopus. "The name has no significance at all", says Norman in his Restaurant interview, "it's just a very friendly word that you can't mispronounce." Sadly, the lack of substance seems to goes for the restaurant too - it's a great concept, superficially it's well executed - it looks good and it sounds good, the service is pleasant. But the food just doesn't match up.

Such a shame, we really wanted to love it but instead we ended up skipping dessert and topping up on ribs & wings at Bodeans. So Polpo, if you're listening, it's an easy fix - put some love into the food, season it and taste the blooming stuff before you serve it. All style and no substance does not a successful restaurant make.

UPDATE: Since we visited, the turnip tops have been reduced in price to £3.80
Polpo, 41 Beak St, London W1F 9SB
http://www.polpo.co.uk/

Breakfast at Hunstrete House, nr Bath

After a hearty lunch at the Hind's Head in Bray, we continued our drive down the M4.  Well, he drove and I slept - I was full of grouse and treacle tart after all.

Our destination for the weekend was Hunstrete House Hotel, a beautiful country pile with a 2 rosette restaurant, hidden away south-west of Bath.



No dinner here for us, as we were off to a wedding for the evening, but I couldn't help noticing some interesting puddings like "deconstructed pimms" on the menu.

On our return late that evening we cosied up in the bar with a Baileys (me) and a Laphroaig (him).  It felt very Mitfordesque and grand, like staying with an ageing rich relation rather than at a hotel. 

Next day, we awoke bleary eyed and slightly hungover to the sight of herds of deer galloping past the window.  We eased ourselves from the four poster bed and dragged our weary limbs and throbbing heads down to breakfast. 





It was a grand affair with the usual fruit/cereal buffet and an impressive selction of cooked options, all based on local ingredients.  Service was high class, slightly on the slow side, but we were in no rush.

Hubby went for the full English, which went down very nicely.  In particular the "Saxon Splendour" pork sausage was firm and meaty, full of herby, porky goodness and not too much rusk.

I've had bacon, eggs, pancakes, maple syrup and blueberries in many combinations, but never all at once on the same plate.  It was glorious.  Rich egg, salty bacon, toothachingly sweet maply syrup and zingy blueberries with a crepe style pancake to mop it all up with. 



If that's not a hangover cure, then I don't know what is! 

Hunstrete House, Pensford, Nr. Bath BS39 4NS
01761 490 490
http://www.hunstretehouse.co.uk/

The Hind's Head

We had a long and dull drive down the M4 to Bristol on Saturday, and what better way to break the journey than by stopping for lunch in Bray?

The Hind's Head is a pub. Heston Blumenthal's pub to be precise. An expensive pub, but still just a pub. It is charming and quaint, with beams and smiley waitresses and awkward family gatherings and Japanese tourists and screaming babies. We were seated upstairs where we had a great view of the Range Rovers pulling up outside, the smart people coming inside and the slightly smarter people heading down the road to the Fat Duck.



We skipped starters as we had accidentally gone out for an impromptu tasting menu at the Dining Room the night before. Instead we dived straight in to mains of grouse (me) and blade of Scotch beef (him). We also ordered sides of the legendary triple cooked chips and the broccoli with anchovies and almonds.



The chips were divinely crunchy on the outside and velvety on the inside. I could have happily eaten the whole bowlful, but was forced to share. The broccoli was more bog standard, but being an anchovy freak, I still enjoyed it. My grouse was savoury and pink. I was particularly excited to find myself chewing on some real shot, proving that my bird was indeed a wild beast who had been gunned down in his prime.



Puddings were equally top notch pub fare. I tucked into treacle tart with a silky milk ice cream, while hubby tried his luck with quaking pudding, a quivering jelly/custard hybrid speckled with nutmeg and cinnamon.



It's not the Fat Duck, but that's not really the point. It's great pub grub, service with a smile and well worth a detour if you're on the M4.

The Hind's Head, High Street, Bray SL6 2AB
Telephone: 01628 626151

A Taste of McClements, Kew

A Taste of McClements is a little bit off the beaten track, but I'm never one to resist a tasting menu. There are no difficult decisions to be made, no finding that you've chosen the wrong thing and really need to eat you partner's meal instead of (or as well as) your own. Everything's simple with a tasting menu, just pay up and tuck in. And at John McClements' eponymously named restaurant there is no A La Carte menu anyway, just 18 tiny courses of absolutely everything.

We set off on our journey across South London.

2 hours and 3 trains later, we arrived to find a tiny 20 seat restaurant tucked away near Kew Gardens station. Tiny, intimate and candlelit, with two friendly waiters, we were immediately at ease and looking forward to getting started.



We began with an amuse bouche of foie gras "snow" with crisped fingers of brioche. The "snow" was frozen and shaved foie which melted on the tongue. It might have looked like the sort of snow you get by the side of the road, but it certainly tasted good!

Course 1 was a mouthful of smooth chicken mousse served with a Roquefort sauce. We thought it was all over, but once finished our waiter knocked open our dishes to reveal a tasty tarragon-infused chicken soup hiding underneath.



The second course consisted of three tasting plates - a crab soup served with crab croquette, a lobster thermidor and a langoustine ravioli. The ravioli was the real stand-out dish, with deeply savoury (as Greg the Egg would say) flavours leaving us wanting more.



Course three, and we were served with the next two dishes, a smooth Jerusalem artichoke veloute and a quail egg ravioli. Both hit the spot, with just the right hint of truffle in the veloute and the quail egg cooked to gooey perfection.



The scallop royal, a strange scallopy mousse (right in the photo), was more of a disappointment. It just seemed wrong to mash up a scallop so unceremoniously. However, the sauteed scallop (on the left), served with squid ink, parsnip puree and a parmesan crisp, made up for it. The scallop was perfectly cooked, thick and meaty, and set off perfectly by the creamy parsnip, the deep sea tang of the squid ink and the salty parmesan crisp.



The duck landaise went down very nicely, although I am never one to complain about two lots of foie in a meal.



Tuna cubes were again a little disappointing, I thought that they didn't have much flavour, but they certainly looked pretty.





The Dover sole and the Dublin bay prawn with champagne sauce were both spot on.



The Pyrenees lamb was also delicious, perfectly pink and tasty and served up with some yummy dauphinoise potatoes.



Finally, we were up to the ninth course and still not flagging. It was just as well too, as the desserts were not to be missed. We started with Calvados souffle, snaffling it up before it sagged, then a chocolate praline "Louis xv" with scented violet ice cream, finishing off with a refreshing confit rhubarb.

It had been a marathon, but we were at the end and surprisingly not stuffed to the gills due to the well-judged portions. Even better, the full menu only set us back £70 a head including 7 glasses of wine. If you go alco-free it's only £35 for the food.

Overall, a hassle to get to, and some misses alongside the hits, but well worth the journey. We will be going back to A Taste of McClements. Or perhaps moving to Kew...

A Taste of McClements 8 Station Approach Kew TW9 3QB Tel: 020 8940 6617