Bengali yoghurt fish - Anjum Anand

Just back from a fabulous fortnight holiday in Madeira - perfect weather, lots of relaxing and far too much food. Madeira is perhaps not the greatest of foodie destinations but we ate very well whilst there and enjoyed the wonderfully fresh produce available to us.

More on Madeira at a later date, but for now I want to talk curries. My husband is a huge curry fan and, I have to say, that I'm pretty keen too. This was not always so. As a youngster I shunned anything with the remotest kick and steered well clear of all spicy food. It wasn't something we ate at home and it took some time before I changed my ways and started to experiment. It was some years before I began to understand that curry does not necessarily equal hot! The curries we enjoy eating at home are never 'hot'. They have outstanding flavour from the many different spices involved and sometimes a little heat from chilli, but rarely do we break a sweat.

I have a personal love of Thai curries and I can never resist a really good Thai green curry, ubiquitous though it may be. It was a staple of my university days and a dish I suspect I will always cook. I also tend to lean towards mild, creamy curries enriched with coconut milk or yoghurt. But this isn't to say that they are always unhealthy. When cooking curries, we try to choose lighter, less-fattening ingredients and add lots of vegetables.

Last Christmas, in order to be a little more 'authentic' in our curry-making, I bought my husband a lovely book by Anjum Anand. 'I love curry' is a modern mouthwatering collection of curries and accompaniments. Every dish is photographed and Anjum includes a nice introduction for each recipe explaining how each recipe evolved. Best of all, her recipes tend to the lighter side. They are not swimming in oil or ghee and are the majority of recipes are fragrant and delicately spiced though she had some more punchy powerful curries too. She also explains the different stages involved in creating an authentic curry and how to balance the final dish (how to add heat, 'tame the flame', add sweetness or acidity etc...).

We tend to cook mainly meat or vegetable-based curries but recently we tried our hand at one of the many fish-based curries. I used to live with someone with Indian roots who made the most fabulous fish curry (a family recipe handed down over the years) - somewhere she gave me the recipe and I must find it to re-create it. In the meantime though, this did very nicely. The flavours were delicate and aromatic and it made a lovely mid-week dish.

Here is the recipe, with a few tweaks (mainly using slightly less oil and our preferred amounts of chilli - Anjum always gives a choice so you can alter a recipe to taste.

Bengali yoghurt fish

Recipe adapted from 'I love curry' by Anjum Anand (p83)

Serves 4 but easily halved

Ingredients:

3 tbsp vegetable oil

1 small onion

10g peeled weight of fresh ginger

2 plump garlic cloves

1/4 tsp chilli powder

2 tsp ground coriander

2 green whole green chillis, stalks removed

2 small tomatoes

2 heaped tbsp Greek yoghurt (we used low-fat variety)

600g firm white fish fillets (we used cod)

Handful fresh coriander

1. Finely chop the onion, grate the ginger and garlic to a paste. Blend the tomatoes to a puree in a blender and set aside.

2. First, make the sauce. Heat the oil in a saucepan or casserole. Add the onion and cook until soft and golden. Add garlic and ginger pastes and cook for a few minutes, stirring often. Stir in the spices and whole green chillis and season with a little salt. Pour in the pureed tomatoes and 150ml water and cook until liquid has evaporated and sauce starts to take on a rich, dark red colour, stirring all the time. Stir in the yoghurt until well blended.

3. Pour in a further 200ml of water and bring to a gentle boil - simmer and stir for around 5 minutes until the sauce has the consistency of single cream. Taste and adjust seasoning with more salt or chilli powder.

4. Chop the fish into fairly large chunks and add to the sauce - shake until the fish is coated. Cover the pan and cook gently for around 3-5 minutes (depending on thickness of fish) until the fillets are cooked through. Sprinkle with chopped coriander and serve with rice.

I thoroughly recommend other recipes in this book and can't wait to try others. Next on the list are a tamarind duck curry, a hearty meatball and pea curry and aubergine in a creamy peanut sauce. The tarka dhal is one of the best I've tasted  and there are great ideas for accompaniments, chutneys and starters

Blackberry and almond tart

The end of summer has brought with it a host of new cook books to browse and devour and I've been lucky enough to receive several new titles to drool over. I'm thrilled in my new house to have all my cook books in one place and easily accessible. I have a fairly obscene number and should, no doubt, have some kind of amnesty, but I can't bring myself to part with a single tome. Browsing through the new titles (thank you Octopus Publishing and Innocent) led me to consider what it is that I really like in a cook book. And the things that I don't like.

What I do like?

1. Pictures, pictures and more pictures. I like to see a picture of the 'finished dish'. As much as I am an imaginative sort, it is usually the pictures that seduce me and lead me from reading to cooking. My one key caveat here is Nigel Slater with his Kitchen Diaries. His writing is so evocative that I'm prepared to forgo the pics and head for the kitchen regardless. But usually, I need pictures. And this, as I mentioned, means pictures of the food. Not pictures of the cook, her glamorous home or even the ingredients. But pictures of the food being cooked. Pictures of the finished dish. I want to see onions sweating in a pan. Fluffy meringue. Wobbly jellies. Crispy-skinned duck. Steaming bowls of stew. 

2. Recipes I can actually imagine cooking. For me this means recipes easily-achievable for the home cook. Things I might actually cook for supper rather than things I'd go to a fancy restaurant to eat. Much as I might enjoy foams, froths and liquid nitrogen in my local gastro-destination, I'm happy to stick with somewhat simpler techniques at home.

3. Options. I love recipes with options and ideas. When it says 'if you don't fancy chicken, why not try this with rabbit'. 'If you've forgotten to buy the cider, you can use apple juice/white wine/stock'. If you've some leftover, add some cream and make a pasta sauce/chop it up and use as a base for trifle/add potato and fry to make a rustic hash'.

4. Tips. Along with options come tips. Particularly ones about which bits to make in advance. So useful. Freezing tips also welcome. Tips for peeling butternut squash also invaluable.

What do I dislike?

1. Recipes which haven't been properly tested in a home kitchen. Celebrity chefs are the main culprits here. I find all too often that their recipes simply don't work well. I find recipes created, developed or tested by home economists or home cooks do work well.

2. Poor proof reading. Don't get me started. This is one of little 'things'. Totally excusable in a speedy blog post but in a book that has taken months to prepare? No excuse at all. I'm sorry. As I say, it is one of my 'things'!

3. Too many photos of the chef and/or his/her home/children/friends/pets/lifestyle. Just show me the food please!

4. Faddy books that are too specialist and fly-by-night. I prefer my cook books to be more of the timeless sort that I'll return to again and again over the years.

So. I must admit that it was with a touch of cynicism that I picked up Tana Ramsay's new book 'I love to bake'. The front features a combination of admittedly tempting shots of the sort of food I like to eat and slightly nauseating photos of Tana herself posing in the kitchen looking serene and domestic-goddess-like. I must confess that I've not taken much interest in Tana's other books and have perhaps dismissed them assuming that she is simply cashing in on her husband's fame.

I was very pleasantly surprised. As I flicked through the book I found recipe after recipe that I really fancied trying and plenty of food photos to inspire me (albeit interspersed with a few too many of the author herself and her photogenic family!). The book is about baking in the widest sense. Yes there are cakes, pies and breads. But Tana's baking also extends to lamb hotpot, baked tomatoes, mackerel fishcakes and a stunning-looking salmon en croute with minted pea and bean puree. Lots of great family dishes and recipes that kids can get involved in creating.

For those with a sweeter tooth (me included), there is plenty to tempt. From classic favourites (custard creams and baked apples) to more original offerings (hot apricot and pistachio souffles and mulled wine, plum and blackberry pie), there are dozens of appealing recipes. Despite her fondness for dessicated coconut (something I cannot abide) I'm taken in by Tana's relaxed, simple, wholesome style of cooking.

The day after receiving the book, I had my sister and her two boys for lunch. Perfect excuse to cook up a blackberry and almond tart. This tart combines a crisp dessert pastry shell with squidgy frangipane and autumnal blackberries. A winning combination but oddly one that I've not tried before. I must confess that for speed I used a good quality ready-made pastry but otherwise followed the recipe to the letter. It worked brilliantly - I was particularly impressed with the idea of brushing the pastry shell with beaten egg after blind baking and returning to the oven for 5 minutes to crisp up the pastry. Worked a treat! I would add that the tart is very versatile and would be great with raspberries, plums or other reasonably tart fruit.

This recipe is truly delicious and I urge you to try it. Tana's book has surprised me and I can see myself trialling quite a few of the recipes of the next few months.

Almond and Blackberry Tart

In my own words. For exact recipe, please see Tana Ramsey's 'I love to bake' published by Octopus Books.

Ingredients

350g dessert pastry (recipe can be found in the book)

200g blackberries

175g unsalted butter

150g caster sugar

200g ground almonds

2 large free range eggs, lightly beaten

1 unwaxed lemon

1. Lightly grease an 8.5 inch loose-bottomed tart tin and line the base.

2. Roll out the pastry on a floured surface until the thickness of a £1 coin. . Line the tart tin, pushing into the corners. Prick all over with a fork and pop in the fridge to chill for at least 45 minutes.

3. Pre-heat the oven to 180C. When chilled, line with baking paper and fill with baking beans. Bake blind for 15 minutes and then take out of oven and remove the beans and baking paper. Brush the case with a little of the beaten egg and return to the oven for a further 5 minutes, until slightly golden.

4. Whilst the case if cooking away, get started on the frangipane. Pop the butter and sugar in a food processor or mixer and beat until pale and fluffy (use a paddle attachment if you have one). Mix in ground almonds and then add the beaten eggs and lemon zest, a little at a time.

5. Pour the frangipane into the tart case and then arrange the blackberries in the mixture - pushing down into the the gloop. Make a pretty pattern, if you can!

6. Bake in the oven for 35-40 minutes until the frangipane is firm to the touch and springs back slightly. Remove and cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes or so. Serve warm with vanilla ice-cream or cream.

Dundee Cake: Baked and Delicious

I'm a total sucker for a foodie magazine. My house is over-run with back copies of most of the major food magazines available and I refer to them constantly for inspiration. Despite having numerous handy recipe files, I am hopeless at sorting through the magazines and cutting out the recipes that interest me.

I was excited to hear of a new magazine which has recently hit the shelves of our newsagents. Baked and Delicious is a part-series collection-type magazine dedicated to the art of delicious baking. Each issue is packed with inspiring recipes for traditional cakes, savoury bakes and tarts, breads, celebration cakes, scrumptious desserts, biscuits and patisserie. Each recipe is clearly illustrated and certain more complex techniques are covered in details with step-by-step guides. But most excitingly, each issue comes with an item of silicone bakeware. Collect each issue and soon you'll have a set of cupcake cases, a loaf pan, tart tin, heart-shaped mould and handy accessories such as a silicone spatula and pastry brush.

I was fortunate enough to receive a copy of the first issue for review. I liked the layout of the magazine and the variety of recipes. I also appreciated the tips for variations on certain recipes  and the detail about the origin of some of the bakes. This issue comes with a set of silicone cupcake cases but rather than try the cupcake recipe, I thought I'd try something I hadn't made before. My husband loves fruit cakes and so the Dundee cake was the ideal choice. The recipe was easy to follow and the cake turned out beautifully. I particularly appreciated the tip of making a slight dip in the cake mixture to prevent the cake rising to a point in the middle. Why haven't I thought of that before?! I was initially a little disappointed by the number of recipes in the magazine but, on reflection, I think there are enough. Importantly, the recipes are all very different (Mediterranean tarts, fougasse, macarons, chocolate fondant puddings, lebkuchen, choux pastry) and I am sure I will try a few of the others in the weeks to come.

This would be a great magazine for novice bakers who are keen to collect a great set of bakeware whilst learning a variety of techniques. But it is also suitable for keen cooks, looking to expand their repertoire and try some new bakes.

You can find all the details about this magazine collection on the Baked and Delicious website.

Heston's Christmas Pudding

What a month! There has been vitrtually no time for blogging (or cooking for that matter). I've been hard at work assisting with the organisation of the Cirencester Christmas Market, a spectuacular German-style Christmas market which took place in my home town. Hours have been long and I have been completely exhausted upon returning home each day having spent nine hours each day outside in the freezing conditions.

I'm so pleased to finally be 'on holiday' and am looking forward to sharing all the festive treats that I'll be cooking over the next few days. Like many, we have vast amounts of snow preventing us from getting out and about - the perfect excuse to spend time in the kitchen.

Before I get onto the things that I've been cooking recently, I must post a very overdue review of the spectacular Christmas pudding sent to me by the kind people at Waitrose. I'm a huge fan of Waitrose in general and, as it is my local supermarket, am seen there fairly regularly. The partnership with Heston Blumenthal is one I've been following with interest. To be honest, Heston's style of cooking isn't one that I'm naturally drawn in. I adored a meal at his pub the Hinds Head in Bray I have to admit, but The Fat Duck wizardry just doesn't appeal to me. I do enjoy watching his culinary experiments on television too but I prefer to view cooking as art rather than science.

However, I was intrigued by the sound of the Christmas pudding he has developed for Waitrose. Being Heston, this is no ordinary pudding. It looks like one from the outside, but it hides a little secret! In the centre of the pud is a whole, candied orange. The notion reminds me somewhat of a Sussex Pond pudding which houses a whole lemon and wonder if perhaps this is where he got his inspiration.

Anyway, I did consider buying one of these myself out of curiosity. But, as always, I have made my own pudding so there was really no need. Imagine my delight to be sent one to review. The pudding is smartly packaged and cooking instructions suggest steaming the pud for best results or microwaving if time is short. At first I was unsure with whom to share this treat - my husband does not like orange and the pudding is large enough for at least eight hungry people. In the end I served it for dinner when my parents came to visit - a pre-Christmas celebration seeing as I won't see them over the next few weeks.

We all looked at the pud with a critical eye - it certainly looked and smelt fantastic. We couldn't wait to dive in and sample Heston's work. We were not disappointed. The pudding was absolutely divine. It was fantastically moist and juicy - I imagine juices from the orange seep out into the pud whilst it is cooking. The candied orange looked very festive in the centre and tasted good too. Even my husband enjoyed the pud although he wasn't a fan of the actual orange, unsurprisingly. The flavour was excellent - a nice balance between fruit and booze with the orange flavour more subtle than you might expect. It is quite a nutty pudding, something that I wasn't so keen on (I prefer nuts chopped very small rather than in big chunks) but others enjoyed. Heston suggests serving with Cointreau butter but I stuck to traditional brandy butter which worked very well too. Leftovers heated up well in the microwave over the next few days and were very much enjoyed too. 

All in all, a thoroughly glorious pudding. My mother found it so good that she raced out and bought one for Christmas Day, despite having already made her own! I might well have considered doing the same but our Waitrose (along with many others) has sold out. I was amused to see that they have managed to secure 5 further puddings and have decided to raffle these off to customers, such is the popularity of Heston's twist on the traditional favourite. This pudding worked for me as it remained true to its roots whilst also being innovative and different. It won't dissappoint the traditionalists but will please those looking for something new. If only I could get hold of another!

Fifteen, Cornwall

Phew! What a busy couple of weeks.

In the past fortnight, I have been in Bordeaux, Cornwall, Yeovil, Dorchester, Henley-upon-Thames, Stevenage and finally home. To London. It has been pretty tiring and I'm slightly sick of eating out.

That actually sounds really spoilt, I know. It is just that I travel a lot for work and occasionally, after meal after meal of rich food, all you want is a simple bowl of soup at home!


But I'm not complaining too much. Along the way, there have been some pretty fabulous meals. The highlight was the opportunity to go to Jamie Oliver's Cornwall branch of his restaurant Fifteen.


The restaurant is suspended above the glorious sweep of sand and sea that is Watergate Bay. As you pad expectantly towards the entrance, you have to squeeze past sun-kissed surfers and their rippling six-packs. It was certainly enough to stir my appetite into action (!)




Once seated at our table, we gazed out to sea at the glorious view and then turned our attention to the mouth-watering menu.

I now have to confess that I am not Jamie Oliver's biggest fan. Don't get me wrong - I watch his shows, I have all his cookbooks. I just find myself squirming ever-so-slightly each time he mentions the word 'pukka', or starts talking about 'bashing' up potatoes with 'loadsa' herbs. I'm just a stick-in-the-mud for the Queen's English.

Anyway, I was initially concerned to find that the menu read in exactly the same way. The idea of 'Fifteen's amazing potato salad with Buttervilla funky leaves' just annoyed me slightly...

Luckily I got over this very quickly. A large glass of A Mano Fiano-Greco, 2007 with its 'amazingly floral' nose with 'heaps of lovely elderflower (...) and plenty of honeyed fruit in the mix' helped enormously. As did our very chirpy waitress who knew everything about each aspect and ingredient on the menu.

Three of us decided to share a most incredible platter of antipasti. It took pride of place in the centre of the table and groaned with melt-in-the-mouth meats, cheeses and marinated vegetables. And the best olives I think I've ever eaten.



Oh. And melon. And the best slow-roasted tomatoes ever. And 'loadsa' lovely bread. I was getting into the swing of it all.

Next up, I decided to go fishy. And boy was I glad I did. My pan fried Cornish pollock with cannellini beans, Zucca Farm sweetcorn, smoked haddock and oregano was truly scrumptious. The flavours were perfectly balanced and complimentary. Happy days.

One of the best things about the menu was that it wasn't too long. I don't like too much choice as I'm a terrible decision-maker. A choice of four desserts was all I needed. I plunked for the least photogenic but most delicious: Amber's Mum's amazing rhubarb and cinnamon cake with vanilla bean custard. It was heaven...


...and it didn't last long...

Good food, great service and rather pleasing rosemary-scented soap in the loo - what more could you ask for?

Don't forget, there is still time to enter the British Food Fortnight Challenge. I've had some great entries so far but there is always room for more! In case you are stuck for ideas, here are a few I haven't had so far... A traditional roast. Treacle tart. Shepherd's Pie. Scotch eggs. Fish pie. Welsh rarebit. Fish and chips. Jam roly poly. The possibilities are endless!

One Perfect Ingredient: rocket and cashew pesto

Along with many food bloggers, I was lucky enough to get my hands on a copy of the new book by Marcus Wareing: 'One Perfect Ingredient'. In this book, Marcs uses everyday ingredients to create 120 dishes aimed at the home cook. It is organised by ingredient, so, for example filed under 'peas' you find pea and broad bean salad with Manchego cheese, gratin dauphinoise with peas and leeks and pea and bacon velouté. He pushes the idea of 'everyday ingredients' somewhat in my mind - how often do you just happen to have a pot of brown shrimps sitting forlorn in the fridge? Ditto mangoes. But on the whole I like the idea.

I'm always wary of cookery books written by chefs. All too often they are full of overly cheffy recipes that are hard to reproduce at home in a domestic kitchen without a brigade of sous-chefs chopping and clearing up after you. On the whole though, I was impressed with this book. There are the occasional signs that this is a man who probably doesn't do his own washing up (a tasty sounding recipe for Savoy cabbage with nut butter sounds simple but in fact uses a whopping four different pans). But most of the recipes seem fairly simple, well-explained and wholly achievable. And most of them are enormously tempting; an initial read-through found me eagerly grabbing the post-it notes to start bookmarking recipes to try soon. Amongst those that caught my eye were sea bass with a pine nut crust and red wine vinaigrette, carrot and coriander galette and orange syrup cakes. Photos in the book are simply and beautifully shot and are refreshingly short of cheffy flourishes. I would have liked to see more though personally - I'm a very visual person and am probably over 50% more likely to try a recipe if it is accompanied by a photo.

I decided to start with one of the books simplest recipes: linguine with rocket and cashew pesto. I'm pleased to say that it was a resounding success and I'm sure it will become a regular addition to my weeknight suppers. Everything is whizzed together in a food processor and the flavour makes a good change from basil pesto.

For four people, you'll need around 100g rocket, 100g cashew nuts which should be toasted in a dry pan, 40g freshly grated Parmesan and 100 ml extra virgin olive oil. Add the oil slowly - you may not need to use it all.

The pesto was great with the suggested linguine but I found some other used for the leftovers - I also found the flavour better the next day, once the flavours had had time to mingle. Spread on crostini and topped with a slice of cherry tomato (or sundried tomato), the pesto made for pretty and delicious little canapés...



Mixed with natural yoghurt, the pesto was also delicious along with cold sliced lamb stuffed into pitta breads, following last week's Sunday lunch.


I'll definitely be trying other recipes from the book. As far as chef-written (as opposed to cook-written) books go, Marcus Wareing has succeeded on coming up with a selection of interesting and exciting recipes which on the whole use simple ingredients and basic techniques. As such, the book had a fairly broad appeal - there is enough to interest the experienced cook and yet the recipes are clear enough for the less confident.

Breakfast at La Fromagerie and mushroomy pasta

Every now and then in life, one is lucky enough to enjoy a really good boiled egg. I really enjoy a boiled egg for breakfast, especially at the weekend, yet I make them all too rarely. And I virtually never order them when breakfasting away from home. The reason being that I am usually disappointed. In fact, there is only one person I trust enough to cook me a boiled egg and that is one of my sisters. She likes hers exactly the same as I do and she understands the horror that is 'white bogeys'. I'm very particular, you see. I like a really runny yolk but if there is even so much as a hint of uncooked white, then I am quite upset. There is nothing worse than 'white bogeys' in your egg first thing in the morning. In my book, anyway.

A couple of weekends ago, a friend took me for breakfast in Marylebone. It was a good chance to take in the farmers' market and mooch round the various foodie shops in the area. But best of all, it was a chance to visit La Fromagerie. This wonderful cheese shop is apparantly one of the best in Britain - the selection is stunning with many of the cheeses made and matured by the owner. But it is not just a cheese shop. Oh no. The Marylebone branch is a gourmet paradise, stuffed to the gills with homemade cakes and bakes, oversized meringues, French goodies (rillettes, foie gras, celeriac remoulade), specialist ingredients, homemade jams and chutneys and much more besides. Perhaps best of all is the small café area at the back where you can enjoy wonderful light meals in a convivial atmosphere (think shared benches and an opportunity to get friendly with those dining to your left and right).

I had a sudden overwhelming urge to order a boiled egg. I just sensed that it would be perfect. Fresh as a daisy, organic and oh-so-tasty. It tasted like eggs used to taste in the olden days. At least I imagine it did (!). My breakfasting companion went down the more appropriate route and ordered the Alpine breakfast - an array of cheeses, live yoghurt, wonderful bread and cold meats. There was plenty for me too, so that was fortunate. The parma (I think) ham was the meltiest I have ever eaten and the cheeses were divine. As one would expect. What was unexpected though, was the wonderful marmalade that accompanied our bread. It was truly superb - so good that I'd make a return visit just for the pleasure of slathering it on some bread accompanied (of course) but the really wonderful Normandy butter that arrived as a natural partner to our feast.

This weekend, I have my two-year-old nephew staying. He arrived at 4pm today and I hand him back on Sunday afternoon. I love having him to stay as he is pretty much the cutest little boy that ever existed (...but then I guess I would say that...) and it gives me a great excuse to do all sorts of fun things like going to London Zoo. So far, so good. He is tucked up in bed and fast asleep. Hurrah!

It does mean that I won't be spending much time in the kitchen this weekend. Having said that, I have just finished making two shepherd's pies - one packed with herbs and flavours and one far plainer. This is the first time I have cooked for him as my sister usually brings food for him with her - I hope he will like it as I found it quite difficult holding back on the strong flavours in his version! We've both got delicious potato and parsnip mash on top though - yum!

Working from home on Fridays, I'm always looking for new ideas for speedy lunches that are really tasty and satisfying yet don''t take me away from the desk for too long. This has become a bit of a staple...

Mustardy mushroom pasta

Take you preferred pasta shape (I used tagliatelle) and cook according to pack instructions. Chop a large handful of mushrooms and half an onion (red or white). Finely chop a clove of garlic. Heat olive oil in a non-stick pan, add the onion and garlic and soften. Throw in the mushrooms and fry until soft. Stir in one heaped teaspoon of wholegrain mustard. Drain the pasta and add to the pan with the mushroom mixture. Add one heaped tablespoon of low-fat creme fraiche. Stir to combine and heat gently. Stir in a handful of chopped parsley and serve with plenty of pepper and salt plus some grated cheese.

A serious blow-out at Chez Bruce

I begin with an apology. Two restaurant reviews in a row. Usually I would try to intersperse with a recipe but I am just too excited about last night to wait. I promise to hit the stove later today!

But then why am I apologising? It would be wrong of me not to share the joy that is Chez Bruce. I imagine that any London-based food bloggers will have already sampled the aforementioned joy. It is hardly a secret. This one Michelin starred restaurant in unpretentious Wandsworth has been voted favourite London restaurant by all the important guides at some point or another. Think Hardens, Zagat, Square Meal and so on. It is so easy to see why. Let me enlighten you...

First, I think I should set the scene. I have a great friend who, like me, enjoys life's finer pleasures. For our birthdays we have a cunning arrangement involving a great night out in each others' company. I take her to the theatre. She takes me out for dinner afterwards. So, shortly after 5pm yesterday we took our seats in the Aldwych theatre to begin what turned out to be one of my all-time best ever evenings. Now when I say theatre, I have to confess I am not talking of high-brow theatre (which I do love too), I am talking about feel-good, musical entertainment. The sort that makes you want to leap out of you seat and dance in the ailes. This year a serious treat was in store.

We both knew every word. We both knew every move. We had the 'time of our lives'. Yes. You guessed it...

It was sheer brilliance. So difficult to re-create such a well-known film on the stage but it translated well. The casting was - with a couple of exceptions - spot on. My only criticism would be that they 'added' some scenes not in the film. Big mistake in my view. Just no point. Anyway, this is a food blog, not a theatre blog. I will try now to get a move on and tell you about the restaurant...

We arrived early for our 9.30pm slot but our table was already ready. (A quick aside on booking worth mentioning - you should book exactly one month in advance if you want to be sure of getting a particular date.) We were greeted with a warm welcome. Coats were taken and we were shown to our strangely small table, tucked into a corner in the back of the restaurant. There was a nice buzz coming from the young-ish crowd. I surveyed the room. The pleasing symphony of neutral tones, carefully-chosen art and strategically-placed mirrors housed a few intimate couples, several groups of thirty-something friends, family birthdays. I sensed everyone was really rather pleased to be there. It was definitely special occasion territory but not 'best behaviour' territory, if you know what I mean. Everyone seemed... so relaxed. And so content.

Once settled we were handed the wine list and offered an aperitif. My hostess kindly ordered two glasses of Champagne. I handed over two bottles of wine. 'What?'. 'Isn't that the wrong way round?', I hear you ask. 'Doesn't the sommelier usually bring you the wine?'. Well readers, this is where the joy begins. Despite having one of the best and most interesting wine lists I've come across (not-too-long, plenty of interesting and unusual choices, reasonable mark-ups), Chez Bruce does corkage. Yes. Really. A Michelin-starred restaurant that lets you bring your own wine. The fee of £15 per bottle is remarkably reasonable when you think about it. I took Kumeu River Chardonnay, 2004 from New Zealand and Lemelson Stermer Vineyard Pinot Noir, 2003 from Oregon priced at £14.95 and £22 respectively. Add £15 to each of those and you are still paying considerably less than you would be if they were featured on your average restaurant list. Plus it is great to be able to bring special bottles with you to special meals.

What was so great though was that the sommellière was equally attentive to our own wines as if we had bought from the list. We were in no way made to feel guilty about not ordering from their selection. We discussed temperature and decanting/not decanting - she clearly wanted us to get the best from our own wines.

Bread and excellent butter followed. Rather good sourdough bread actually. And then we had the hard part. Making a decision. It all sounded divine. We decided to share two starters. We begun with Buffalo Mozzarella with vichyssoise dressing, dressed mushrooms and truffle oil. As it was placed in front of us, our nostrils were filled with an aroma of decadence. There was no doubt about it. They hadn't skimped on the truffle oil! It was an intriguing combination. Neither of us would have ever thought to pair the gorgeously textured Mozzarella with such strong flavours. I think I enjoyed it more than my companion who thought the truffle and mushrooms overpowered the cheese. The Chardonnay worked brilliantly with this - it is drinking beautifully with mineral edge reminiscent of fine white Burgundy. The smokiness that comes with careful use of French oak matched surprisingly well with the truffley notes. Our second starter was more classic. Foie Gras parfait with salad of green beans, iberico ham, fresh figs and walnuts. All served with a god wedge of brioche. An assembly job done to perfection. The flavours worked together perfectly like Simon and Garfunkel orFrench and Saunders, and the presentation (foie gras in a pretty little pot) spot on. No photos I'm afraid as it was very dark and I don't like using flash in restaurants as it can be distracting for other diners. You'll see that I got a little braver later when it started to empty...

My main course carried a supplement charge but I was urged by my generous hostess to go 'all out'. So, grouse it was. Roast grouse with fondant potato, blackberries, savoy cabbage and bread sauce. Classic pairings here. I'm not sure that I'd ever eaten grouse before but I am a big fan of game and I'd heard that this year was particularly good for grouse (though not sure whether this means in terms of numbers or in terms of flavour). This was not a dish for the faint hearted. It was seriously gamey and would be too much for some, I think. But I loved it and thought it worked superbly well with the blackberries - the sharpness cutting expertly through the rich meat. The savoy cabbage was divine and the bread sauce I could have eaten straight from the pot on its own. The smell made me think instantly of Christmas. It had been beautifully infused with bay, cloves and onion. The pinot (which on tasting we did decant as it was quite young and a little 'tight' at first) was a great match. My friend's halibut was similarly delicious, if less good with the pinot (which she enjoyed afterwards).

Next stop puddings. For a remarkably reasonable £37.50, you are entitled to three courses (with supplements for certain items such as the grouse and the cheese). You can pay an extra £10 for four courses to include a cheese course. We didn't think we could manage both. My friend is a major cheese fanatic and when she caught sight of the cheese board I thought I might have to physically restrain her from diving straight in before the starters even arrived. Here I did get a picture. Feast on this...

A basket of assorted biscuits arrived with enough biscuits for around 10 people. Slightly baffling. The charming cheese man then helped her select. I think she had about 15 different cheeses, but I could be imagining it. We had indulged on a fair bit of wine by this stage! Quince jelly and a fig and almond slice were delicious accompaniments. I am a pudding person so I had a divine fondant au chocolat with fleur de lait ice cream and honeycomb. It was sheer heaven. The honeycomb a revelation. Rather cruelly, I gobbled it all up leaving not a morsel for my dining companion who had so kindly shared some of her cheese.
The wonderful sommellière suggested an interesting cherry-scented sweet Spanish Mataro to accompany my pud, chocolate being fiendishly hard to match. It worked well and it was good to try something new. It was great to see a young English female in charge of all things vinous on the night. The wine trade is too full of men (I should know, I work in it). It was a refreshing and very welcome change. In fact, the whole experience at Chez Bruce was refreshing. Seriously good food. Faultless service. But completely unpretentious and very relaxed.

Coffee, tea, chocolate truffles and mini palmiers later, we finally left. We weren't quite last. But very nearly.

An epic post for an epic meal. I'm sorry if you feel I've gone on a little long. But hopefully you've got the message. If you haven't been to Chez Bruce. Go.

To sum it up in more concise manner - absolutely brilliant! Thank you, Laura!

Chez Bruce, 2 Bellevue Road, Wandsworth

www.chezbruce.co.uk

The Harrow, Compton

Work took me to Guildford this week. To Loseley Park to be precise. The Surrey countryside was looking at its autumnal best - so close to the bustle of London and yet so far in terms of surroundings. Lunch called and I remembered a rather good little pub nearby that we'd enjoyed so much the previous year that we had lunch AND supper there during our travels.

My colleagues looked slightly dismayed as I rumbled our large van through the country lanes insisting 'it'll just be round the next corner'! Fortunately, eventually it did appear around a corner in the rather pretty, very English village of Compton. I was initially somewhat concerned by the freshly painted sign hanging outside. It claimed that The Harrow was a 'bar and restaurant'. I had remembered it as a very traditional pub that did really good food. Definitely not a 'bar' or even a 'restaurant'. I was in the countryside, I wanted a country pub.

Upon entering the pub/bar/restaurant it became clear that the pub had undergone something of a makeover. I later learnt that it had been taken over my new owners just two weeks prior to our visit. New paint. New tables and chairs. New menus. On initial inspection, The Harrow seemed to be having something of an identity crisis - whilst the bar area and large screen TV (please, no!) screamed pub, the swanky menu, paint-job and oversized tables did not. I was nervous...

The clientele were a mixed bag. Chiefly a sprinkling of retirees enjoying a mid-week treat and smart-suited business folk from Guildford entertaining clients. A slight lack of 'locals' I would hazard.

On return from the ladies (think nice-without -being-too-upmarket soap and handcream plus a complimentary tray of women's 'essentials'), my colleague said that he needed to 'explain' the menu to me. I am always wary of a menu that requires explanation. It turns out that half of the menu is not available at lunchtime - why not print a separate lunchtime menu, I wondered? Perhaps they will in due course.

Anyway, my spirits lifted when I read the menu. All the 'pub lunch' boxes ticked - a pie, bangers and mash, variations on steak, fish and chips, substantial sandwiches. Some of the dishes were favourites from a bygone era and I couldn't decide whether I thought this was inspired or ridiculous. Examples include spam fritters and corned beef hash. Out of nostalgia, I almost ordered the fish finger sandwich with iceberg lettuce and mayo. But I thought better of it. As for spam fritters, I am in the school of thought that there is never a good reason to eat spam. Not ever. Not even when it is the only thing left in the cupboard. My parents though would no doubt revel in this wartime relic.

As I toyed between fish and chips and a rather delicious-sounding chicken burger I saw a plate of 'ham, egg and chips' go by. It looked divine in an ironic, retro kind-of-way. Beautiful-looking ham, stunning chips and bright-as-a-buttercup egg yolks just screaming to be dipped into with one of those glorious chips.

I went for the Whitby cod fish and chips with homemade crème fraîche tartare sauce and crushed peas. It arrived fairly promptly and it was close to perfection. In fact, it would have been perfection had the peas not been forgotten and then arrived un-crushed. The beer batter was crisp and light, the cod beautifully fresh and the tartare sauce perfectly balanced.

As for the chips - divine. I have yet to understand how so many establishments can get chips so terribly wrong. These were just right - crisp on the outside and fabulously fluffy on the inside. And perfectly salted.
But I haven't yet told you about the condiments. When asking for the ketchup (yes, I'm afraid I simply must) I was pointed to the adjoining table of sauces. There were five different styles of mustard. English, French, Wholegrain, Dijon and American. Now that really is impressive for a pub.

We were working so didn't sample any of the more interesting beverages on offer. I took a look at the winelist though and it was good. Not especially exciting but a good, sensibly-priced selection of decent wines with a good choice of four of each colour by the glass. Bravo!

Service was efficient. But the staff and management were clearly feeling the strain of a busy lunch. Clearly word has spread quickly about the excellent fodder and almost all tables were occupied. Staff were certainly kept on their toes but this didn't detract from an overall excellent lunch. I would definitely return. In fact I'd advise taking a detour to come here. Not for the 'country pub experience' which The Harrow does not quite deliver, but quite simply for the excellent, hearty food.

The Harrow, Compton, Near Guildford

01483 810379

Mustardy Mushroom Chicken

I feel like I have been away for ages. Since Monday night I have been to Bradford, Knutsford, Northern France and Stevenage. All for work. During this time, I have eaten some great curry, enjoyed a fabulous dinner at a Loch Fyne restaurant, discovered a new type of potato (ratte du Touquet), eaten an unidentifiable piece of meat (could have been pork, could just have easily been veal), devoured one of the best apple tarts EVER, caught a hideous cold and cooked.... absolutely nothing.
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Yes, I have definitely been having withdrawal symptoms from my beloved kitchen. I intend to make up for this tonight (despite the hideous cold). Firstly, I must just rave briefly about the impressive meal I enjoyed at the newly opened branch of Loch Fyne restaurant in Knutsford, Cheshire. I am a bit funny about 'chain' restaurants. Even though the Loch Fyne brand is clearly one with which I associate excellent fish and produce, I was sceptical. I had recently eaten in a local branch of a restaurant chain with a similar concept (I'll name no names) and despite the exorbitant prices and dazzling array of beautiful fishes I was very disappointed.
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Not so at Loch Fyne. I ordered poached smoked haddock with mash, peas, spinach and wholegrain mustard sauce. It was cooked to perfection with a divine flavour and gloriously comforting feel to it. My mother deemed her scallops to be 'the best she'd ever eaten' and my father devoured his crabcakes with similar enthusiasm. Fabulous.

Did I mention the wholegrain mustard sauce? Yes? Well that brings me oh-so-neatly onto the chicken dish in the picture. Not particularly photogenic, I'll agree, but so so very good. Comforting and autumnal, this hit the spot last week when I needed something fast(ish), tasty and filling.


Mustardy Mushroom Chicken


Ingredients (serves 2)


2 chicken breasts
1 large red or white onion or 4 shallots
1 clove garlic, crushed
2 handfuls of mushrooms (mine were fairly ordinary, but you could go for something more exotic)
2 glasses white wine
2 heaped teaspoons smooth Dijon mustard
2 heaped teaspoons wholegrain mustard
4 tablespoons double cream
Olive oil


1. Heat a little oil in a non-stick pan/casserole with a lid. Add onions and garlic and soften.
2. Add mushrooms and fry until just soft. Tip onion/mushroom mixture into a bowl and set to one side.
3. Return pan to heat and add chicken breasts. Seal the chicken, adding a touch more oil if necessary.
4. Pour wine over the chicken breasts and season well. Cover with lid and simmer for approx 14 minutes, or until chicken is cooked through. Chicken should be almost covered in the liquid - if not, you may like to add a little boiling water or stock.
5. Remove chicken from pan, cover and keep warm.
6. Turn up heat under pan and let liquid reduce by one third. Add mushroom and onion mixture back to pan. Then add mustards and finally the cream.
7. Allow sauce to bubble gently until it coats the back of a wooden spoon. Taste and season accordingly. Pour over chicken breasts.


Notes - I served this with comforting mash and runner beans. The beans were sliced using my favourite kitchen gadget - my runner bean slicer! No doubt everyone has one of these and I am the last to discover it, but I think it is brilliant. It simply takes off the stringy bits at the sides and cuts the beans into perfect strips. Just how I like them....!



Wine Notes - I enjoyed this with a Pinot Noir from Burgundy. A St Aubin, to be precise.

The Lamb Inn, Hindon

It is wedding season. I've reached that age where I am entirely able to identify with Hugh Grant in 'Four Weddings and a Funeral'. Everyone I know (with the notable exception of yours truly) seems to be heading down the aisle. Fortunately, I love a good wedding. Everything from the mad dash to some far flung corner of the muddy countryside to the uncertainty about the selected B&B. I love a good rendition of 'Bread of Heaven' in the church, admiring the dashing men (all married, of course) in their morning suits, shedding a tear at the arrival of the bride, the endless Champagne, the speeches, the hopefulness of the table plan (perhaps it'll be the man of my dreams...? ''Oh, Great Uncle Geoffrey. How lovely to meet you.'') and the dancing. Oh. I love the dancing.

One of the great attractions of weddings is the chance to spend a weekend in some part of the country previously unexplored. It is terrible that one should need an 'excuse' for a mini-break in one's own fair nation, but this sadly seems to be the case these busy days. So, this weekend, I headed through the floods to the Dorset/Wiltshire border for the wedding of a very dear friend (super wedding, by the way, in case she is reading). I stayed at a rather dodgy B&B nearby (think lots of lace doilies and strange ornaments). I was hoping that following this trip I would be reporting on a wonderful meal at The Museum Inn near Blandford Forum. Sadly not. We tried. We failed. The chef stormed off in a huff and refused to cook our meal due to the late hour (despite being promised it would be fine and the orders taken!). To be fair, the staff couldn't have been more apologetic and produced a good 'cold plate' and lots of free wine. I shall be back for a second attempt.

However, I can be very complimentary about the excellent Lamb Inn in Hindon. Sunday was unsurprisingly a somewhat hungover affair. The sort of day where everything is hysterically funny. Kicked out of the B&B at 10.30am, we headed off in search of amusement and sustenance. First stop: 'Home Farm Shop', a cracking farm shop selling all sorts of culinary deliciousness from organic meats and vegetables to wonderful chutneys, cakes, spices and freshly-laid eggs.

We stocked up on various goodies, had a chat with the resident Bantams...

...and managed to resist the cute little tea-room, 'Abigail's Kitchen'...

...and headed onwards, towards Longleat Safari Park (yes, we really were in quite a silly mood).

Driving in convoy, I was slightly alarmed when the leading car veered off the Longleat road to some village called Hindon. Why were we going there? As we pulled up in the very charming high street, it all became clear. The Lamb Inn. Of course. The Lamb, according to the blurb, began trading as a public house as early as the 12th century. Today it is owned and run by the Boisdale group, responsible for the two excellent Scottish-style restaurants in Belgravia and The City. The Belgravia establishment renowned for its jazz and cigars.

The Lamb is dark and heavy to tartan. A glance at the bar reveals that this is a place that takes its whisky seriously. Hair of dog, anyone? Pale faces take on a definite green tinge. Lime and sodas, all round then. Lots of fireplaces - this is definitely more of a winter place rather than summer.

Our request to sit outside is met with some surprise. It is a rather chilly day for July, but we are clearly in need of fresh air and are prepared to brave it. The menu arrives. Such joy. It all sounds delicious in a comforting, undemanding sort of way. Roasts dominate the Sunday menu - we just know that the meat will be a serious cut above the average.

My loin of pork arrives - one smell and my mouth is watering. The meat is sliced thinly and fairly well-cooked (some might say over-cooked, but it was still moist and the flavour was superb). Mustardy mash was perfectly flavoured and the accompanying cabbage came with bits of smoky bacon. The wonderful gravy was divine.

Roast beef had great flavour too and came with the most enormous Yorkshire puddings ever.


This was great, delicious British food at its very best. Cooked simply, the quality ingredients sung out. No need to fancy presentation or artistry. It simply smelt and tasted divine.

The best surprise was the bill. Admittedly, we stuck to those lime and sodas and we didn't have any extras. But the bill was £30 for three. Just the ticket. Those accompanying me will be disappointed if I don't say this one more time: 'it was great value for money'.

We headed to Longleat fully satisfied. Hangovers long forgotten.

The Lamb Inn, Hindon, Wiltshire SP36DP
Tel - 01747b 820 573

http://www.lambathindon.co.uk/

Home Farm Shop, Tarrant Gunville, Near Blandford Forum, Dorset
http://www.homefarmshop.co.uk/