I have just had my second free coffee in two days. If only this were the start of a beautiful trend! Yesterday I benefitted from a latte surplus to requirements, and today I was apparently recognised as a regular who hasn't been seen in a while and this was a ploy to lure me back. Either that or I was being chatted up: I'm not very good at spotting the difference.

There's no reason for me to be impartial so.... Pret: the coffee shop that keeps on giving.

Come dine with Katie!

Before we even started there was a strong gin, served with my very favourite thing in all the world: devils on horseback. The beautiful little smoked salmon blinis were just lovely, but nothing can beat a sweet-salty prune and bacon combination.

On to the menu...
Smoked mackerel pate with oat biscuits












Chicken breast stuffed with mozzarella and chorizo served with crushed new potatoes with herb butter, and vegetables. The herb butter on the potatoes were really delicious, I could eat a whole pile of potatoes dressed like this. The chorizo was just a little overpowering for the chicken and mozarella, but entirely delicious all the same.

Pink chamapgne and rhubarb jelly with ice cream. This was awaited with curiosity by everyone... would you be able to taste the champagne? Warmed on the tongue, the jelly fizzed a little, as if a dab of sherbert was hidden in there. The rhubarb lent a clean, sour note, and the clotted cream ice cream was definitely needed to counterbalance this with its sweetness. The two together were amazing.

Coffee and chocolates.
And what chocolates they were. Handshaped dark chocolate with nuts: no after eights for this lady!

Katie also entertained us royally throughout, but I don't need to elaborate on that. Let's just say I was better at conducting with a chopstick than I thought... and Andy looks really cute in a white bear suit.

andy's brekkie

Putting the cart before the horse, here is the breakfast Andy made for us all, the night after Katie's meal:

I don't often crave a fry up, but if I know Andy is in front of the oven then I know it's going to be good.

pheasant, not peasant!

Having mortally offended my male parent by forgetting to take my brace of pheasants at Christmas, I had to accept the penalty of a 50% reduction in his affection... and was given one, naked pheasant last weekend.

Lucky me! And twice lucky that I didn't have to pluck and singe it, either. Having a constraint can be much easier sometimes. The constraint was time, the solution was casserole.

I chunked up the bird, taking off the leggy bits and breasts, and chopped the rest of the carcass in two. I browned it all in oil then removed to a plate, then flash-fried some diced pancetta in the pan and set aside with the pheasant.

Next, two small onions chopped finely and two cloves of garlic, sweated down.

Pheasant back in the pan, a glug of marsala, half a diced up squash and a few choice carrots... some marigold stock and a random 250 ml or so of beef stock from the freezer, which I was sick of seeing in there. Finally, some mushrooms from our veggie box were cleaned and added whole. It cooked for an hour then sat and mellowed until the next day.

After some wonderfully awkward, quiff and two-left footed dancing, dinner was dead quick. The casserole re-heated quickly with a dash of cream, and served with date cous cous* and toasted flaked almonds.

The gent chose wine from the very tiny Tesco selection. The label tells me it is 'Caves Saint-Pierre' and a 2007 Cotes du Rhone. The gent told me it is a mixture of grapes and not just from one grape. Or the other way round, and this is good because it avoids the flower bomb effect. Or, fruit bomb. Of cherry flavour, was it -? Perhaps I should have asked *before* we drunk it :/

*cous cous aside: it happened to be wholewheat cous cous, to which I added cinnamon, turmuric, chopped dates and marigold stock

baby it's cold outside

Ah, the winter illness of choice: colds.

First port of call is drinks of hot honey and lemon, with ginger syrup and brandy or whiskey. As a second line of defence (and comfort) I follow Bert's rule of 'red wine and something schpicey' - and indeed Mel's spicy Malaysian chicken curry on Monday momentarily let me breathe.  Last night though, I needed a bit of comfort with the spice and didn't have the energy to take any time over it, so fell back on the old faithful of chicken and chorizo stew.

The result of a dish my sister Katie cooks, crossed with a Nigel Slater recipe I chanced upon, it is now dear to my tastebuds.  I made a note about this stew only in September, and the little tinkering changes I made this time were only for the convenience of using up the rest of a swede, and because I found the right pulses this time and used chickpeas... and also a couple of handfuls of red lentils.  I cooked it for longer too, (guessing at the gas mark and timing which I lost from the Nigel receipe) two hours and another 30 mins sans lid. My only note to self - and one I make rather firmly - is that I really have to buy the hot paprika.  The sweet is lovely and smoky, but not quite the wake up that I was looking for.

I am also going to stick to my guns and only use the butchers from now on too: half a dozen chicken thighs and the same of cooking chorizo only came to about 6 pounds. Between the butcher and the return of our veg box this week, we will have everything we need.

Looking back to September made me tidy the blog a bit, publishing a neglected item and deleting notes.  Now last year is tied up it is time to look forward to the new year... just keep away from the 'flu if you can!

The List

I keep mentioning The List, but can't find it written down anywhere. So, for posterity...

The Fat Duck
Arbutus
El Bulli
River cafe
Locanda Locatelli
St. John

I don't care how obvious they sound, or that they might have closed before I find the money to visit them. Or that my 'top five' appears to be six. Dreaming is three quarters of any pleasure.


Moro has been moved to 'The List of Places to Re-visit'. As has Salt Yard. As has 'bills' in Sydney - only, with bills, I already have my next visit there pencilled in for March. Bring on the ricotta pancakes and sunrise juice! Good times!

The Other List: suggestions and recommendations from friends, of places nearer to home... and budget. And the ones that didn't fit into the top five.


Del Parc (167 Junction road, N19)
Obviously, J. Sheekey
Hoxton Apprentice. Similar to Jamie Oliver's Fifteen, but with a Prue Leith menu and aiming to apprentice not just chefs but also waiting staff etc.

All things dim sum, recommended by both Melly bo and Giles Coren:
Yauatcha, Hakkasan, Royal China.

There should also be a subsection of 'very cheap and possibly dodgy' for those skuzzy places near where I live. To be added.

Salaam-namaste Indian, and Busaba for lunchtime proximity:
http://www.salaam-namaste.co.uk/

http://www.busaba.com/
[yum. i want the duck massuman curry with coconut rice... or sticky rice... and thai calamari, and jasmin cha and if someone else could order the pad thai jay that would be great, because I want to try that too. if i liked crab then the crab version of pad thai looks good. but i don't, so you can keep it. also, we might as well get some hot sake, right?]

beef, beautiful beef

What a week.

Even if I put Christmas aside for a moment, there has been quite some memorable eating. My first taste of foie gras, with the perfect accompaniments of crusty bread, maldon salt and 5 year old tokay - courtesy of Mr J. A beautifully-wrapped rectangle of foie gras, topped with a thick layer of butter (-?) it was something more exquisite than, but of course similar to, a liver pate; melting on the tongue it was soft, delicate. The sweet wine cut across the salty offal in the perfect act of companionship. I felt the extravagance and sense of occasion somehow contributed to the taste - certainly the experience.

I know I absolutely can't do justice to this word-wise, but if there was a photograph of my face as I ate, it would show something short of bliss and that is the way I will remember it.

Then there was champagne at the Tempus bar in Hotel Russell. I'm not sure how it isn't everyone's favourite place but it is now mine. Old fashioned, nooks and corners and the most elegant staff to ever take an order for two drinks from a companion-less girl in trainers, without flinching.

But the beef. The reason I have motivated myself away from the brand name cheap after eight mints, and TV 'special' drama, is to make a note of today's roast beef. A topside of Aberdeen Angus which my mother roasted to a point where it looked cooked outside - but was delightfully bloody inside. Ridiculously good. Hot horseradish, goose fat-roasted potatoes... etc. You get the picture. Whilst washing up, Rose and I snuck a couple of lukewarm slices, trailed through the blood and dripped in our mouths.

Supper was the completion of the meat: cold, over-pink slices flopping, velvet, next to jacket potato, coleslaw and pickles. I just had to get that off my chest.


Other good things:
The Pret Christmas Sandwich; Katie's Christmas pudding (made in February each year); every last sprout; smoked salmon on Christmas eve; blue Stilton, white Stilton with apricots and Stilton with ginger (repeat on rotation); sneaky slices from the turkey under pretence of making sandwiches; stealing a sausage-in-bacon from the fridge to kick-start breakfast.