February 5, 2010

Sandwiches, Scandi-style

Variety over bulk is the name of the game here. Eat lots of small things, attain satiety, and relax into a pool of flavours.

You order either three or five sandwiches (£5.95 or £8.95, respectively), from which you can choose from varieties as lovely and basic as egg and tomato, through liver paté with bacon and on to three different pickled herrings with rye bread.

The food is solid, simple, a little adventurous, and beautiful. It’s a deli counter which is unfortunately held up by the variety on offer– the sandwich selection changes regularly so you may have to queue while the people ahead of you aren’t yet waited on as they gaze and drool at the glass display case.

I had a spiced herring, a double portion of a smoked salmon wrap-like thing, liver and bacon, and smoked salmon on rye. I must highly recommend the liver paté and bacon. Coffees were solid– and came in beautiful and functional scandi-style cups with slightly sexualised protuberances for handles.

Staff were friendly and patient in the rush that’s come to them with increased popularity (we arrived at 1400 and the place was still heaving) The place was perhaps a bit on the noisy/clattery side, but it fits with the simplicity and the deli style.

61 Great Titchfield Street
London W1W 7PP

020 7580 7161

www.scandikitchen.co.uk

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Back in the saddle, with some fab cooked breakfast

Guzel
I often go and do research at the British Library, and on one recent chilly-but-sunny January morning I chose to walk rather than Tube from Fenchurch Street up to Saint Pancras, and man, am I glad I did.

I’d skipped breakfast and figured I’d pick up a Pret or Marks & Spencer sandwich and get going, but I was ruminating as I walked and thought I could have a sit down breakfast– as I wouldn’t be able to take my sandwich into the reading rooms anyway.

Guzel puts out a £5.95 Full English. Now, you can’t really go completely wrong with a Full cooked breakfast, but you can go awfully right. Mushrooms were done & seasoned right, not overcooked. Beans had taste. Tomatoes not mushy. 2 eggs, runny yellows, no “snot” as Seventeen says of the uncooked white. The sausages were done under the grill, and had been sliced open in several spots– I’m not normally a fan of this as the fat runs out and leaves the flavour out, but these sausages were so flavourful, crisp, and wonderful that I really want to watch the next time and see a) where the sausages came from and b) how exactly he does them.

The staff were super as well. This is basic food, done well. I wouldn’t be surprised to see chefs in here.

Now I’m looking forward to going back for hangover breakfast of liver, egg, bacon, & chips…

293 Gray’s Inn Rd, WC1, London

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October 29, 2009

Smollensky’s, The Strand, London

The service:
We were (this seems to be an ongoing theme with us– but it’s not our fault, this time! The theatre was half an hour late in starting. And we called!) late. We’d called ahead, but someone didn’t take the message– we’d been told on the phone that the kitchen would close at 10:30, and when we arrived at 10:20, they said it was closed, but “they’d see what they could make for us”.

In the end, it turned out all right– the head chef hadn’t left, the grill had just started to be cleaned, and they were willing to serve us everything they still had left, which included:

The Food:
Our first starter was beef carpaccio, one of my old tried and true favourites. The beef was a little thick, so you didn’t have that lovely flavour of a whispering moo– there was COW in your mouth. And not in a bad way, either. Although it was a bit on the cold side– which was too bad as it was rather fresh and the flavour was good.

The second starter shone through, though– three scallops of increasing size which were so fresh I thought they might cling to the plate. They were grilled to perfection: buttery smooth texture and full of flavour, and capped with American style streaky bacon, which was a nice touch, although it reminded me of the own-brand supermarket bacon I grew up with.

Mains included a 300g steak of beef tenderloin which, remarkably for a British restaurant, came rare as it was ordered– and it stood up well to it. It came with stunningly lovely mash on the side which was creamy, with some chunks, and delicious, if a bit on the scalding side– I suspect the mash had been put in the cooler and then brought back to temperature in the microwave but, then, we were nearly 25 minutes late.

My main was half a roast chicken. This is my test dish, and it was done right: The dark meat was cooked all the way through and the breast was moist and juicy. Delicious and– thankfully– unsalted frites on the side along with a slightly too moist (for me) cole slaw (although when in Rome, have your cabbage swimming in mayonnaise).

Pudding, on the other hand, while nice, was a bit of a disapointment. Blueberry pie was on offer with ice cream (they offered us our choice of chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry– really? Does anyone want anything other than vanilla ice cream with pie?). The ice cream was quite good, and the pie, which tasty, came in a bit on the lacking side– the filling had loads of flour in it and was almost like a thick blueberry cake. Not bad, just not what either of us were expecting, at all.

The Wine
Chateau Naudon Bordeaux Superieur 2005. Classic, old-world style Bordeaux, at £23. Nice, drinkable, went well with both chicken and beef. Pretty much what you look for with a mid-priced wine. The list overall looked pretty OK– a decent mixture of wine at decent prices– the most expensive thing on it was like £35, although the low end was filled with new world style buzzwords like “jammy” and “fruit-forward”, which put me off a bit (though it did get an extra £8 out of me for the wine).

October 28, 2009

Sevendials, Brighton: Solid food AND the extra mile.

We booked in here at Sevendials via TT, expecting quite a lot. Unfortunately, we ran 30 minutes late, so we rushed over, knowing the kitchen would soon close. We were greeted with “no, sorry, the kitchen’s closed”, but after a couple of questions and explanation, they went back, thinking they could do *something* for us after all.

Apparently the chef had just shut down the grill, and they decided to re-open it for us! Awesome.

Then out came a procession of:
Smoked duck breast: Lovely duck, smoked to perfection, not too cold, not too warm– and they’d run out of figs, so they replaced it with citrus which cut and complemented the duck all too well.
Aubergine, Red pepper, Goat’s cheese roulade: which sat under a pile of fresh lovely roquette which gave a peppery twist to the combination of lovely baked-together flavours underneath.
Braised Pig’s Cheeks: buttery, creamy, porky, and fantastic– an all-too-often overlooked lovely bit of the pig (not to mention cow!) Fully approved of by the Fellowship of the Pig.
Roast Partridge with partridge crumble: Which was an odd thought, as it’s partridge with a partridge side, but it worked– and worked well.
Monkfish with parmentier potatoes: I know, I know, I’m not meant to order Monkfish, but this place is known for its sustainable food, and I figure once a year… In any case, the Monkfish did not leave this plane of existence without good reason– it was brilliant. About 200g of monkfish in a round fillet, grilled to perfection, where it didn’t flake, didn’t go rough, but just poured flavour out into your mouth.

Wine: I thought the wine deserved its own space. El Muro Carineña Garnacha/Tempranillo, ‘08. I have no idea what 2008 looked like in Spanish wine, but this wine punched way above its weight. Eminently drinkable, like a middling reserve Tempranillo that’d been laid down for five years. Obviously it’d been done with some new world techniuqes, but at £14 a bottle (the cheapest on the list– I picked it ‘cos I figured you can’t go wrong with a Garnacha/Tempranillo blend), it drank like a £25 bottle of wine, and tasted reassuringly old world. It reminded me exactly why I love Spanish wine so much. I am desperate to drink more of this.

Looking forward to heading to Brighton again where you can get what would in London be a £100 meal for £40…

October 17, 2009

Yalla Yalla, Soho

Down Green Ct, one of Soho’s attractive sex streets, there’s a beacon of shining… yellow and orange and red. In this place is Yalla Yalla, which means “fast fast”.

The food is simple Lebanese street food, and done fairly well. There’s a whole array of takeaway as well as a few tables.

The Good
The food is simple and, actually, top quality. The baba ghannoush was silky, buttery, flavourful, and loaded. The hummous, while I prefer it thick, was creamy and delicious. Kibbeh was spiced enough to bring out the lamb, not the spice. Prawns were cooked the right amount– and the shell came away cleanly. Fattoush was not overwhelming, crisp, fresh vegetables and not too acidic.

The bright, clean decor was a pleasure to eat and drink in. The tables were really cool looking, if perhaps the stools were a bit short, and the curious arrangement of logs as legs meant that you had a really awkward leg positioning to get in and out, and you couldn’t shuffle around on those too-short stools. My bum was aching, even the next day.

I would recommend the lebanese wine. The most expensive one, at £23, was eminently drinkable with hints of subtle flavours, though not overpowering the food in the least– pleasurable, fruit-forward flavours without being jammy, with a hint of old-world spice hovering underneath.

The Bad
The aforementioned tables and stools were rather uncomfortable– especially if you were lingering over a last few glasses of wine on a date. The service, while competent, was to be honest, just barely so, considering our meal, no pudding, with wine was about £60– although we did probably overdo it a bit.

The biggest problem, however, was the takeaway counter– it’s not really separate, in fact, it’s just the counter where the local punters used to buy their porn over, and it sits right by about 1/3 of the diner’s heads. Combine this with the fact that it’s creakingly overloaded with Lavash wrapped around succulent food, right at my head height, and it felt like I was being watched during my whole meal by Falafel-in-lavash and filo dough. The counter is, unfortunately, just too narrow for these trays filled with their takeaway, and I was afraid that I was going to rub the side of my head on them.

So?
I’d go back, though. The food was really rather special. I’d be more likely to stumble in after a few pints than to take a date, however– unless it was my new date from the few pints.

Ultimately, I think Yalla Yalla can’t decide if it’s upscale or downscale– Yes, YY, there is profit in downscale, but you could raise the prices by 50p and have a proper lovely hole in the wall special place for those “in the know”…

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July 8, 2009

Uganda: Where to eat, what to drink, what not to drink

Uganda
The nightclub capital of East Africa– and the alcohol consumption capital of the world. It’s hard to come here and not have a good time. You might consult a couple of resources for help with some of the more colourful expressions, but it’s pretty easy to get along, pretty safe (except for taking Boda bodas at night or, indeed, even during the day).

Wine is South African and heavily overpriced. Go for it if you must, but the locals drink gin/waragi, whiskey, or beer.

Warning: You may have to specify that you want your beer cold. And “cold” may end up being a bit of a relative term.

What to drink

Waragi
The local (Ugandan) equivalent of gin. It’s not bad– especially with tonic– although apparently gives a massive headache to some. Conveniently sold in bottles or in 200ml sachets. Awesome for sneaking into clubs. Take some home with you and impress your friends.

There’s also a gold version…

Club
Cool Ladies Understand Brothers, apparently. This is your bog-standard lager. All the beers in Uganda come in 500ml bottles. Club’s 5% or so, and pretty decent, though without huge flavour.

Moonberg Lager
AKA Moonbaga Laga (in the local dialect). This is a new brew made according to the German Beer Purity Law. I don’t know what the style is but it’s not my personal favourite, but it’s definitely one of the better beers. If you’re into that sort of thing. It just has a certain arse flavour that I don’t particularly like.

OK but not preferred

Bell
Named for Port Bell, where the rail barges load to cross Lake Victoria. This is an old local brew, and very similar to Club. Safe to drink, if nothing special.

Castle
Blah blah, available all over Africa, they do have a milk stout as well, kind of expensive but OK and comes in cans so there’s no hassle about bottle returns if it’s a home party. Made in and imported from South Africa at god knows what carbon footprint…

Pilsner
Exclusively in cans, looks kind of sketchy, tastes a little worse. It won’t kill you but I never really liked it.

What not to drink… ever

Nile Special
I personally believe this beer is made with poison and methanol and, maybe, antifreeze. It has this flavour that reminds me of the worst warmed over Colt .45 I ever drank, but worse. Kind of what I imagine licking a sweaty man’s genitals would taste like. It is strong, though, at 6.5% or stronger, but I wouldn’t drink it.

Plus, the hangover from it (hey, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do) is eminently miserable.

Tusker Malt Liquor
This is not your tasty Kenyan Tusker lager which is OK, this is some odd malt liquor. also a strong beer, with some strange additives, not quite as foul as Nile Special, but you do get the sense that they’ve put something really cheap in it. Best avoided.

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Resurrection (a shift in tone)

Hello all (who may or may not give shit about this blog, but what the hell, eh? It’s running, and I’m feeling dehabilitated, so what the hell.)

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve left San Francisco, gotten more education, and am now bouncing between London, Kampala, Lusaka, Cape Town, and, potentially, Harare. My goal is a new career in alcoholism and to spend fewer than a month at any one time. It saves on the overheads. And I couchsurf, until I ruin it by drinking all the wine.

Shift in focus
So what this is going to be is a “what to drink and/or eat, where” type of thing. I’m traveling enough and I’m opinionated, so, hell. Let’s do it.

February 10, 2007

Daily wonder wine!

2005 Bordeaux Cabs, Beverages and More, $8.99

Picked this one up at Beverages and More for $8.99, I think.

It’s quite nice. It’s a French negociant wine and it’s half Cabernet Sauvignon and half Cabernet Franc. This is the best daily wine that I’ve had since… well, since all those under-two Euro wines in Spain. This is just what you want for a cold February night with your roommate over lamb shawerma.

This wine is dry and weighty, not terribly complex, but not a fruit-bomb. The tannins aren’t overpowering, but add depth over the minimal cherry and eucalyptus notes.

Check it out. You won’t be disappointed. This is one to buy a case of and keep around for anything. It would go well with lamb, roast chicken, Indian food, or just about anything. Enjoy it.

February 6, 2007

This is why I review $10 wines.

Spencer Robinson Lodi “Sueno Vineyard” Syrah, 2001. Bevmo, $25

Editor’s note: Several things, including family emergencies and graduate school applications have kept me from wine for a while. I’m getting back on track… and on my boozing, now.

Jam.

Like cheap port. Without oak. Without acid. Full-flavored, but not much flavor in that full.

Even worse? This isn’t a $10 corner store wine. It was 2 for 1 (Guess why? Maybe because it’s terrible?) so I “only” paid like $12 for each one. And I have to drink another one.

I left a glass of it to sit overnight. Above are my notes from last night (I wasn’t drunk, and it was paired with some really tasty roasted parsnips & carrots, tri-tip, and baby bok choy sautéed in butter with salt and pepper. Simple. Except for the tri-tip, and that was just… well, just simple, too.)

My nose says: Fruit! A bit alcoholic! Nothing really enticing. 15% alcohol, which is not terribly high but neither is that doing anything for the flavor.

My mouth says: Initially, hot. Too much alcohol. A little eucalyptus followed by a giant wall of jammy cheap watered down port. It’s thicker than Syrah but thinner than port, and it doesn’t have much of the joy of each one.

Save yourself twenty-five bucks and go get some Cline Zin.

July 22, 2006

Rose rose my day away

Vega Sindoa 2005 Rose Wine, Bi-Rite, $11.99

I got sucked into the world of Rose. And it’s really not a bad thing. Forget that sweet and sticky White Zinfandel from the early 90s, the one that your white-trash aunt drank to look sophisticated. The aunt that had the bad bleach job and the enamel earrings that dripped down her shoulders.

I don’t remember what it was that I drank to start the obsession. I suspect I was buying a bunch of wine and ran across something with a shelf-talker that told me to buy it. It sat around for a while. I must’ve been out of Sauvignon Blanc, or maybe was going out to a picnic with Trailsy and thought “Variety. That’d be nice.” So it came out. I don’t remember what it was, but I remember thinking “Jesus god that’s good.” Bone dry and a little tanniny but crisp. It was like white wine made out of red wine. I wanted to eat Tri-Tip with it. I don’t remember what it was.

I must’ve broken down and bought several more, ‘cause Trails (she’s the only one that puts up with the obsession) and I drank 2 bottles of it at the World Cup. Which led to much drunken dancing in Dolores Park. And another bottle one last weekend. Sometimes they’re a little thin, but I have hopes for this stuff.

I thought that first bottle was something like half Tempranillo and half Garnacha (Grenache, to you who only speak the language of the World Cup Losers). This one’s half Garnacha and half Cabernet. I have high hopes.

It’s a little sweet. The nose has faint notes of cheap ‘70s Gallo jugs, but a nice finish. A nice long finish on it, with notes of honeydew and kiwi. A tiny bit of tannins (not nearly enough in my opinion, but…). It goes much better with food. This is an easy-to-drink rose, but it’s (unfortunately) hearkening a bit too closely for my taste back to the el cheapos of the early 90s.

It went better with food. I made up my home-version of Zantes using a prebaked corn crust (thanks, Viccolo’s), a tasty bite, and some cheese. A little spicy, a little warm, a little crunchy, and the rose handled it well for a balmy night.

So this wasn’t the rose to talk about in my new obsession. It’s not bad, but neither is it anything to get excited about. There are better ones out there.