[Restaurant - Japanese] Gateway to an Expensive Obsession; Umu of Mayfair

Location - Mayfair, London [UK]

In what has quickly started progressing into a completely enveloping obsession, not difficult with the complete dearth of other worldly thought occurring within my conscious, it was perhaps a matter of destiny that following the life-changing moment of my introduction to the Divine Sake that I would find myself at this establishment a day later. With its comprehensive Sake list. And one Michelin Star. My first Michelin Experience. On my birthday.

Baller status, achieved ^_^.


Not that I am glamour-struck, though my ballerness was immediately apparent to me [ok I'll stop], but in my unnervingly growing hunger to explore and devour everything I see in as wide a demographic or spectrum of establishments, this is surely a benchmark. Considering previous "Japanese" dining experiences - those latter three terms used very loosely - included...*Shivvers* Wagamama's, it would hopefully introduce me to a new level of cuisine. And wallet debilitation.

The decision to go to Umu was not particularly my own - unfortunately in this thoroughly "receptive" state of gastronomic discovery, I have been left with the decision making capabilities of a rock. Why a rock? Has a rock ever made a decision? There's your answer. So, when present with a list of restaurants to try out, I vaguely placed Umu above others like Hakkasan, Apsley's and such, perhaps with the subconscious desire to take my new found, utter noviceness of sake appreciation and subsequently pretend I know what I am ordering. I was also fooled into thinking that it would be a new experience for the both of us going, but I was cruelly duped into such a notion. Oh the travesty.

~ Starter ~

- Seared Scallop with Grated Apple & Cucumber

- Tuna Tartar Salad 

- Langoustine with Amber Tomato Jelly

Yes, three starters. The quintessence of excess, even when being shared between the two of us. Or so I thought, until what appeared to be dishes fit for pygmies arrived before us - each of the starters comprising of absolutely miniscule portions that would struggle to create an appetite by dint of not actually registering any mass once in the stomach by the hypothelamus. They were very pretty though. So we commenced, after rationing out the portions. 

I started with the Scallop, something I have never had until now as it lives in a shell and therefore I had vehemently avoided for being. Well. Something that belongs on a beach or a necklace, and not in my stomach. I have no other valid reason. It was fine, nothing much to it really, no stand out qualities. Cannot remember much else of it other than moving straight to the Langoustine. Which again was disappointingly rudimentary, though the clear tomato jelly supplemented it well, it's sharpness cutting through the sweet langoustine. And after one bite it was finished, so I just started eating some of the jelly. Moving onto the Tuna Tartar. It was a bit more substantial. Suited the trifecta of normality quite well, again not proving anything distinct. Obviously the most boring review ever, perhaps compounded by my Goldfish memory qualities, but sorely disappointing in quantity. Especially so. As it would mean I would need to throw money at quelling the hunger later on. Bah.

~ Main Course ~
- Sashimi - Langoustine, Eel, Tuna, Seabass

Making another giant leap for Me-kind and questioning my sanity of mind in ordering an increasingly Third World Emergency Supply amount of food, not only did I order some sashimi, but I also tried Eel for the first time. I need not have worried. Portions were, rather predictably at this point, small. I've had sashimi and sushi in the past so there were no real surprises to what I was eating, just never from such an establishment. And as usual I was perhaps the only defiant Philistine trying to use a fork with the sashimi. And failing. Miserably.


That being said, none of them really stood out, other than the Seabass for having a slight "less than fresh" aroma, but nothing transferred through into the flavour, and the eel was peculiar, if only for the texture. Chunky white meat like cod, but an odd skin between the chunks. It was harmless. But I need more. MOAR. Grilled eels and the like. Onwards!

- Lobster with Seven Pepper Shichimi & Miso Bisque
Big spender.
Or rather, just abusing my bank account and perpetually destroying my credit rating. Mind you, my story with lobster is peculiar - I am not fazed by the associated glamour of lobster having it in plentiful and cheap supply in Saudi Arabia, fishing it plenty of times [well, not personally, they were too spikey and hurt my delicate hands >_<], but I had never eaten it, despite the tonnage at home. I think much like with langoustine, and beach necklace shellfish, I just did not fancy eating something with a carapace. The one time I did try lobster several years ago was tarnished by the unfortunate sourness associated with unfresh lobster. Which would make sense as we brought it into a suitcase to Italy. And getting sidetracked. Essentially, I tried some more of our Saudi lobster in March, loved it, living happily ever after.






So. I ordered the lobster. As essentially it was the most interesting item on the menu. And obviously, I was served a baby lobster. Covered in the dreaded foam whose purpose I struggle to comprehend in haute cuisine. To me it just adds nothing. Apart from far too much sourness, and making my dish look like its taking a bath. The dish itself though was by far the richest one sampled - despite being a miso bisque, it was almost decadent, almost creamy. Suited the sweetness of the lobster well. The lobster was miniscule, but somehow I just kept pulling reasonable well cooked chunks out, seemingly out of a black hole sporadically spewing out lobster flesh. A nice dish overall, not terribly complex or flavourful, but nicely rich and sweet. And expensive. Baller, etc. But there was room for dessert. Obviously. As always.






~ Dessert ~
- Yuzu Cheesecake

I know, dessert is not a traditional part of a Japanese eating tradition. It is however my raison d'etre. Yes, I am, for desserts. So it would stand, that it would need to be ordered, quite obviously [the excess of this statement would serve to lead to two further dessert orders at another establishment shortly afterwards. Guilty? NEVAR].

As dreary and unimaginative as the choice was, it was also the most interesting item there. I shouldn't have to explain myself. Dessert. GOOD. And it arrived, with something seeming like a cotton candy bird's nest, typically seen worn as obscure "hats" on those awkwardly dressed Catwalk Models. Along with, more bubble bath flavouring. Joy. 


Hat removed, bitter, astringent foam lambasted, the cheesecake was otherwise not bad - very delicate despite the decadent cream cheese, but not much of the Yuzu flavour permeating. It was enjoyable though, but nothing more. I still do not know if the head apparel was edible though, and why this persistence with suds on food is allowed to continue. I brush my teeth to clean my mouth, rather than ingesting soap. Bah. The pain of going to such establishments, the travesty.


~ Drinks ~
- Bijofu Usunigori Aperitif Sake


Fresh - about a day - from my epiphany that was my introduction/obsession/factor of future life-ruin, that is sake, I saw it fit naturally to duly indulge. So to start the evening I ordered simply an "Aperitif Sake", having not been brought the menu yet at that point. Well, it certainly matched the description essentially being a Champagne-esque sake. So, thus, not to my liking. 


The sparkling nature combined with its very sharp nature and not much body just conspired to make it a bit of an uninterestingly single nature drink, nothing like the Basmati elixir I had drank but the day before. Bah, once more.


- Masumi Arabashiri Junmai Sake

On advising of the sommelier, me and my partner in ordering crime frenzy pined for the aforementioned sake, by dint of not actually knowing which of the plethora of sakes were, and fearing the breaching of the two hour dining limit if we were left to our own devices to select. So this was chosen, and recommended to sample at varying temperatures to suit the different stages of our microscopic portioned banquet feast. 


On first sampling I can recall it was a reasonable sake, quite lightly aromatic and tasting, but generally enjoyable when chilled. It certainly worked well with the fish based starters, I could sense some added "savouriness" occasionally. The wonder started on the second serving at slightly higher temperatures, were a distinct but not too significant change was noted in the flavour of the sake. I cannot actually remember how it differed, but the alteration was clear! This was further evident on the final serving with the mains, being just under room temperature, it suddenly seemed to take on extra body to perfectly suit my creamy lobster dish. It was such a peculiar concept how just temperature is one of so many contributing factors to the flavours obtained from sake. Quite delightful. And yet another fuel to my obsession. 

~~~~

In all, the Umu experience was a pleasant one, not defining in any particular way, other than to establish my, ahem, Ballerfication ^_^. 


*Cough*


What it has done however is provided a stark insight into a gateway of my fast growing obsession with sake. It will ruin and enthral me in equal measures. I'm ok with it. Whilst the food was certainly of a high standard, suffice it to say that portions were expectedly small, but well presented. If the world were just, the opposite would be true, as presentation doesn't satiate my perpetual hunger, but I digress. Michelin stars are won somehow. Not that it actually matters to me, as my enjoyment is derived from the food I ingest. And Sake. Lots of sake.


Sakesake.


If one faint criticism can be drawn, is that I was perhaps hoping for a more authentic experience, as I desire to tease my physique with the quest to sample the worlds gastronomies - time would not allow for the "Traditional" taster menu, which is a shame as at 10 courses it sounded delightfully filling. And would have probably made me refrain from ordering two further desserts later in the evening. The advice garnered from the sake sommelier was also helpful to our clueless sake musings, also being splendid and provided me with the [laminated!] label from the sake we drank, the other waiter less so in that he was incomprehensible and looked like a chipmunk, which rudely prevented me from not giggling in my head. Obviously on this birthday, great maturity was achieved. 

So, another tick on the list of places to go, and a further foot into an expensive obsession. Well, had I paid, naturally ^_^

Read more!

[Discovery - Sake] Unmeino-osake: Sake Tasting at Tombo Deli; South Kensington

In what can only be described as an epiphany culminated from an extraordinary series of events... Extraordinary only in the context of the relative lack of activity beyond breathing I usually find myself in, this evening truly was a discovery for me. Someone hold me. It was emotional.


Having been for a long time enamoured by the Japanese culture and society, primarily for the Automotive spectrum but not exclusively so, my recent obsession with Sake' drew rather curiously from an event that was due to occur in London in Mid-summer, brought to my attention by a friend. Whilst my interests are generally prohibitively limited to the gastronomic and automotive realms with everything else seemingly knocking me into a state of conscious coma - other and social exercises notwithstanding, I'm not a total recluse - the premise of the "Hyper Japan" exhibition seemed initially completely redundant and profusely boring to me. Until I caught site of the "Cuisine" Section. Attention sparked!


In amongst the reams of stalls I wished to indulge in a spot of fantasy face-to-food interaction, I came across one Sake' Stall description, and for some reason something clicked - I'm not sure what, why or how, but seeing the reams of Sake' varieties at a stall, then followed by the gargantuan listing on the company's website, I suddenly became awash with the notion of discovering more behind this "rice water", perhaps there was more to this scalding hot cup of Basmati Juice. Which I guess is my first real move towards this slightly contrived road to gastronomic discovery, and hence the very reason for this largely unread blog! Purpose, restored. 


So, research, ensues. Notion of being a perpetually ignorant Philistine confirmed. Sake' ISN'T a digestive? It tastes FRUITY?! It isn't generally meant to be served at the temperature of the sun?! Hold on. It doesn't taste of Basmati? The hell have I drunk that one time long ago so indistinct I cannot remember much or anything of the occasion o_o. This research eventually drew me to the Eat Japan website, wherein I read an article written by a Philip Harper, apparently the only foreigner "Toji" or Master Sake Brewer in Japan's history. So he may have some insight. And insight he gave. Further engorged, I read through the Sake Directory on the same page, discovering the regions, styles and some of the variants of Sake' in existence - non of what I read meant anything whatsoever to me, but this just motivated me further. Nowhere was there a mention of Eau de Rice, with wonderfully intricate descriptions sprinkled with more than a little Engrish to keep me tantalised and seek to end my ignorance. So. Google. Sake' Tasting. Yes, this is still the introduction. 


British Sake Society. Hmm, sounds interesting. Sake' Tasting at a restaurant for a reasonable price? Convinced. Email sent to a couple of Japan-enamoured friends, and the scene was set. Some further reading on the British Sake Society website further served to confound me, still rather blank-faced at the entire notion. In arriving at the rendezvous at Tombo, I at once felt comfortably out of place, being the only individual sporting the prepubescent facial foliage that tried its hardest to make me look below the legal drinking age. 


Sat in a corner with my two purveyors of Sake' Novicery, we were surrounded by all sorts in this tiny
 deli/cafe, none emitting the air of total ignorance as I did - either this meeting is going to have to cater for a broad spectrum of and last a decade, or details will slip through and I will completely miss the concept, splendid ^_^. As the main speaker announced himself, a lanky and slightly pompous - though befitting of the drinking club and Kensington surroundings I would imagine, all endearing - 4m tall individual, we quickly read through the notes, though being completely flummoxed at doing more than one activity at once, nothing actually stuck. So I carried on clueless. At a certain point, the speaker laid it on thickly how he remembers distinctly when he first sampled the "True" sake' many years ago and how it was a distinct moment in his life and bla. I giggled. In my head. Only to issue myself an imaginary facepalm but mere fractions of a second later as we sampled the first of the Sake's. 


It was sweet. Fruity, very delicate. Rigorously didn't taste of Essence of Basmati. How. Very. Odd. It was primarily like a wine, but one that did not effectively replace all flavours in your mouth with its own, emasculating what sense of taste you previously had. Then. It was combined with the first "dish". Oh my. One nanosecond all my preconceptions are altered, the next, I am experiencing quite frankly a discovery of epic proportions. Yes, EPIC. It was only a poached egg in Dashi, but how the hell is the Sake' altering this morsel to quite this extent?!


It was a very peculiar sensation - whereas with a wine you actively combine the flavours of food and drink in a hopeful splendiferous amalgamation, when the food is combined with the Sake' you get a very different effect. At once the sake' almost falls to the background [though still apparent] and seems to lift the flavour of the food to the forefront, with little notes of the sake' coming through. As cliche'd as it is to just follow on from what experts say - and well, as an utter newb, I have ample grounding for such - it really was the case. It is not a pairing like with a wine, it's difficult to describe. The sake' just amplifies what is there. This phenomenon would only repeat itself several more times, though particular attention will be reserved for the last..

As previously mentioned, the first sake was a very delicate and fruity one, apparently marketed to the women folk of a town that wanted a sake' to bring "tears of joy" to their eyes. Oh mercy me. I must be a woman then. Judge me when you sample it. Heathen. Unfortunately, I was perhaps the only individual that had to resort to normal cutlery, for which I was lambasted. I've grown to be accustomed to my chopstick-dementia, not that it bothered me. Equally refreshing was how this seemed to be a very much informal tasting, with the members seemingly not waiting for the speaker to catch pace and scoffing down their food [yeah I saw you..]. So I followed suit. Grunting included. The next sake' then slapped me with another surprise. This one too brought to tongue no semblance of Basmati Tonic!

Ok, I'll cease with the Basmati-based insights ^_^.

I cannot remember specifically what I was tasting at that moment in time, such was the mentally debilitating experience I was being succumbed to at the time, I believe this one had front notes of aniseed of all things - another light sake', with more fruity notes. I just did not understand! Then came the next sampling which was moved in a completely different spectrum - immediately to the nose this one was different, altogether more savoury, confirmed by the tasting. Then it was combined with the grilled eggplant dish, which on its own was sublime. Jeebus. Whilst the concept of "Umami" or "Savouriness" is quite nonexistent in my repertoire, having only heard it in the past, only assuming it was some higher state of mind or spirituality as I default for most enticingly sounding Japanese words. Which suits perfectly the situation. Win! Broken train of thought - essentially, this sake' seemed to bring forth some of this savouriness quite well. I was quite unimpressed with the Kate Moss-esque sized portions, but seemingly I misunderstood the notion of "Included Dinner". Blatantly O_o. No matter, sake' and flavours redefining my life, I will supplement this transgression later on.

Then came the special one.

This one apparently was alive. True story. It was a "Namazake", which is to say a young sake which has not been pasteurised, thus meaning that the yeast fermentation was continuing. Means absolutely nothing to me, but, apparently makes it a delightful sake. And delightful it was. The fruitiest of them all. Hello Sailor and everything! This one immediately captivated all three of us outcasts, and from the groans and "rarr"ing from the connoisseurs' table, I would think them as well. It was astounding just what sort of differences were emanating from just these 4 samples of sake, not differentiating much in their brewing characteristics [the milling ratios went 50, 65, 70 & 60 respectively, so not too different in grade]. Again, my face exploded when this sake was combined with the delicate chicken meatballs, obviously infused with ginger and all the more delectable for it. Which also came with some little cubes of fried tofu which have completely altered my perception on what were always previously gummy cubes of profound nothingness. These, were, lovely. This sake' immediately had us planning how to elbow our ways to get to purchase the bottles before the others. However, then the coup de gras came.

What was served next was not a sake', but rather an Umeshu, which to you infedels would be a plum wine - and it was served with a sort of Salmon rice-cake confection. Odd - this is basically a dessert wine in description, the speaker proclaimed how another noted drink for combining such a concentration of citric acids and sugar were sports drink, and lead on to exclaiming how it is humorously referred to as a perfect pre-exercise refresher. HAH. -_o

So, bite of salmon, sip of umeshu. Imploded face. Moment of deliberative coma. This. Was. Argh. Yes. Argh. It is the only adjective that can captivate the oddly perfect combination just experienced by my mouth. If I am seemingly preaching all praises, I can only fault you for not partaking. It simply was, amazing, and perplexing. How is such a sweet drink combining so well with SALMON?! Yet another difficult to describe phenomenon, so I shall not bother. This drew up the precarious situation of deciding which bottle to buy - regardless, we quickly made for the counter. However, decision was largely settled when I inquired as to how the living sake' would fare, as I do not drink on my lonesome. As it goes, it should ideally be drunk within 3-4 months, but once opened, within the week. Ah. The umeshu was also cheaper. DONE. 3 bottles bought. My wallet cried. I cried. They were all however tears of joy. And then onto Boisdale to actually eat.

So, my first real discovery. How did it move me? Well, I actually asked more questions [2] than I ever did during my time in University during the talk. I constantly find myself deliberating on where to research in order to further deepen this discovery. I have already introduced one other friend to it's awesome combination with food, and we are both pending to join the club. Especially so as it is cheap. Again, score. It really is an amazing drink, it cannot be highlighted just how enlightened I was during the course of the evening, and all I sampled were a very small number of sake's, without even diverging into the different filtration grades, aged sakes, or even serving of sakes at different temperatures [that would take place a day later]. How such a broad spectrum of characteristics can be drawn from a simple grain that, at least by my perception of rice, is a rather monotonous grain, has me completely befuddled. It's ability to lift and display the flavours of the food are at once even more of a mindfluff.

This truly was a pleasant discovery - I typically do not like to drink alcoholics, my dint of its empty calories you see - one that has introduced me to a diverse culture, and even altered my own to some degree. As in now I prefer sake' with food, rather than wine. Hence. Affected. Much. So. Sake' of destiny, or Unmeino-osake. Hyper Japan, an exhibition of all things Japan astonishingly enough, will host a Sake' seminar on the day I go, along with a couple of stalls. Together with the Club, and the purchasing of some material, research and otherwise, I aim. To enjoy this discovery. Plenty. It's amazing what is discovered when I take the infrequent decision to exit my room ^_^.

Read more!

Delicious Excess after the Drought

So.. For the spam bots and 1 other lonely individual that read this - me - the lack of any life is sure to indicate the obvious waning sense of purpose for this blog. However, I should really follow it through. I am also abhorrently bored.

More of the same on the front of creating food out of what would have been wasted, which will suddenly come to use in the next couple of weeks as I find myself in an empty household. Really pulling together obscure ingredients, I shall sustain myself with the inclusion of the following dishes:
- Smoked Mackerel Quiche [Not bad - oddly sweet]
- Smoked Mackerel Tart
- Lentil Shepherd's Pie
- Torta Amalfitana [Disaster]
- Baked Cheesecake [Greasy]
- Apple Charlotte [Baked in a flower pot]
- Bread & Butter Putting [Forgot to actually include anything other than Bread and butter]

I will probably give quick indications in a separate post. Maybe from a hospital bed. Or the dead. Onwards. In the latest news, I also ventured out of the security of my room and had dinner out. So yes, I did go to Boisdale, but only for desserts, also sampling the culinary eccentricities/delicacies/non-distinct healthiness of Umu, Tombo and Jak's respectively. However, one of these events issued an absolutely delightful discovery.

At said restaurant I was partaking in a Tasting Event, to which I had invited a couple of friends so as to not appear completely out of place, though my pre-pubescent facial foliage certainly tried hard to nullify that effort. At this event, I was introduced to an item, that has completely altered my admittedly, but unashamedly utter ignorant streak on certain topics, and, actually changed my life. Not to any actual degree worth measuring mind - I liked it, basically, and it now occupies a lot of my mindframe. Ironically, I poopoo'd [teehee] the speaker when he declared the same phenomena of when  he first sampled a true tasting of this same item and how it was a distinct moment he will forever remember. Only to issue myself a facepalm a nanosecond later as soon as I sampled it.

What on earth am I on about?

RICE!

Steamed white rice. IT. Was. AMAZING.









Ok, not quite. And I couldn't actually think of any cleverer segue. However, this item does involve rice. And steaming. I'll leave you on that.





Ok, it was Sake'. What I initially thought was a warm cup of rice water digestive, has completely altered my perception on this drink within the occurrence of the this tasting event. However, more on this epiphany in its own dedicated post kkthx.

Read more!

Damn you Ekmek, and such

So. It Continues. The excuse this time was to use up some leftover Tahini.

One has been eaten. It is supposed to be Tahinli Ekmek, a Turkish Sweet Tahini Pastry. It was delectable, and my first attempt at baking. It was enjoyable. However, so. Much. Badness. Not even the fact that I used less than half the stated amount of sugar, and about 2/3 of the butter requested can stop this rather girlish carbs-are-bad-mkay guilt I'm experiencing.

But it was nice.




BAH!

Read more!

Devil Makes idle Hands Chubby [>_<]

Suffice it to say.. That I had lost a lot of will to keep adding posts. Primarily as I rarely venture forth from my room in these penny-pinching days of non-expenditure for other commitments, that and, I hate thinking about food. As it makes me hungry. And also, water is wet.

This past month has added negatively in that intense spurts of boredom have caused me to unfortunately meander towards the kitchen, whereby in a mission to salvage a small portion of epic food waste that occurs in the household, decided to make some dishes. However, these have obviously taken their toll on me, compounded by the recent amassing of desserts and other foods of questionable health benefit, though obviously noms. So, what have I made/whining about having made?

- Ricotta Polenta Cake; to get rid of a year old tub of Ricotta in the freezer
- Quinoa Pudding; the intention was to use up some very old nectarines, which were almost all made of mould
- Butternut Squash cake & Jack Sabayon; used up an old butternut squash
- Zucchini Souffle'; some very unlovely smelling zucchini formed these
- Watermelon Souffle; yet to be made, but the ingredients have been prepared for a while
- Pineapple Ice-cream; used up some old pineapple slices, blended with some cream, stuck in freezer, done.
- Melon Sorbet; as above, but to use melon. Tasted. Funky.

After which, I will now refrain. As I have gained a startling amount of flab, not compounded by the Tiramisu' that I solely seem to be consuming, and Muhallabia, that were both made for Easter. Argh.

Addendum: Just made Sutlac. Ish. Kind of just winged it on measurements. And I made it too dry. Again. This time to use up some white rice in the fridge, and Jersey milk.

Read more!

Part Deux: Zonzomnomnom

Ugh, whatever. Take two of the Zonzo - it is astounding what a difference just a little added seasoning can make. And a whole Mozzarella ball. Whilst I hesitate to add salt to anything nowadays, formerly being a Salt Water creature in a previous life, it has brought out a creaminess from the butter and cheese.

I also made sure the puree was a lot finer this time round, and added more parmesan, and. Well. I've banned myself from looking at it, as I know I'll find it hard to stop eating. It's not mind-blowing by any means, and certainly no credit of culinary skill - it's just mashed cassava - but, Jeebus is it more-ish...

Proof shown by the fact I couldn't refrain myself for the sake of an unspoiled photograph ^_^

Addendum: Microwaved a small slice the other day for that bit too long, so it got crunchy. Um. Wow. Amazing? I would think that is why its predominantly barbequed, as it comes alive when the cheese has melted through. ARGH.

Read more!

Zonzobar!

Well, actually, more of a Zonzodish. HAH!

I know, weak.

Anyway I got bored, there was a plate of leftover boiled Cassava in the fridge - which relentlessly mocked me as it knew I cannot resist it when finished in the tempura my mother so casually happened to have made in her attempts to fatten me up - so, I figured, may as well do something with it, that's ever so slightly healthier.

Still haven't a clue what I'm on about? Wait, that's redundant, no-one does. Anyway:

I made some Zonzo. Which is basically a Bolivian Mashed Cassava [Basically Mashed Potato, except, its Cassava] dish - usually on a stick, but, I did it the idiot-proof way. And I don't have any sticks. Mine lacked enough mozzarella as I couldn't be bothered to defrost some more, and I probably should have seasoned it a smidge more. However. It is very addictive. Dangerously so. A bit bland, but this newly introduced root/tuber/vegetableofpwn owns me quite so.

I also tried making some Kheer a month or so ago. I'll just say, with one having bits of ceramic in it, and the other having an industrial amount of Saffron in it, they could've been worse. Far worse. No, I didn't poop out a yellow vase.

Read more!

Best Of:

No, I am not writing a post to compile a list of my own favourite posts, that would be incredibly conceited and pretentious of such an amateur outfit.

So without further ado..





*Ahem*

Anyway, no, I was wondering, in the perpetual state of gastronomic infatuation I find myself in, just some of the best and diverse dishes I have ever sampled, ever, that I can still remember of, no matter how mundane - tastes that remain distinct for their intensity, or just experience. And I figured I should compile it, if only to serve as back-up for my relentlessly poor memory, and as means to keep on - at least mentally - savouring the past event. For the sake of keeping the list within the confines of infinity, I will forego the meals sampled within the home. So, without further ado, again:

- Best Tiramisú;
This was in a restaurant in Paestum, in the Campagna Region of Italy, near Salerno - details are sparse as this was a rather distant 10+ years ago, yet, I still remember the immense delight I found in that Tiramisú, down to its appearance. Served in a glass, it was more of the creamy-parfait type rather than a thick lady-finger slice, but I distinctly remember the perfectly light yet rich creaminess of the dessert, highlighted by little notes of chocolate with some chocolate chips. It was intense. If I had hit puberty by then, it would've been a mess.

- Interesting Regional Speciality - Panigacci;
Basically an Italian "Chapati" of sorts from the Liguria region, though I shudder to call it that, this flatbread is unique in that an entire 10 or so course meal is entirely based on this flatbread. Mindless indulgence?! Ofcourse, it's Italian! However, also perfect of sense! In order of topping, this bread perfectly suited the cured meats, stracchino cheese, pesto, and Nutella toppings to create a diverse meal. Of Bread.

- Best Glass of Orange Juice;

Paris, Charles-de-Gaulles Airport, Spring 2000. I remember it vividly, it actually blew my mind. Que? Orange Juice?! Ya, rly! And it was on the bottom floor using one of those presser machines, peel and all, and it was delectable - very crisp, and a distinct highlight from the bitter peel. Lovely

- Best Ice Cream:

Royal Jelly, together with Tiramisú flavour, sampled at Sarzana in the summer of 2008. Wow, the Royal Jelly Ice Cream was, wow. My life. It needs it. As far as explanation goes, I cannot put "Drooling" into words, so that should do.

- Most Memorable Lamb Dish:

First sampled in 2006 I think, I think maybe even way back in the Mid-90's as well, though I don't remember much from then, but essentially on camping journeys in Saudi Arabia, typically around New Years, it has now become customary to do a traditional Arab/Bedouin style of cooking of lamb that entails stuffing a lamb leg or shoulder, and cooking it for several hours. Underground. What comes out is delightfully fragrant, actually melts in the mouth, and is just exquisite. It may even be Kharoof Mahsin, which is one of my "To Try's".

- Most Memorable Childhood Nom Moments - Pizza:
Note, this is the most memorable pizza, not necessarily the best. Especially not the best, as it's in Saudi. And was in a fairground. However, despite it shutting down in the early 1990's, I can still remember the look, and even the TASTE of the Pizza Al-Azizza [I think that's what it was called] deliciousness. I just remember an unbelievable amount of cheese/hardened arteries, and. Well. That's it. I was in single-digit age then. It was however, immense. And cheesy. Very cheesy.


Cheese is good. 


Then they replaced it with a Burger King. Now that whole complex has been torn down for office blocks. :'(

- Most Memorable Childhood Nom Moments - Roasted Peanuts:

I'm not talking of your run of the mill KP Tin Peanuts. As disgustingly addictive as they are [I once finished a full tin of Honey Roasted Peanuts. In a day. I think I died], I am talking of the natural pan roasted ones with salt. Oh hooray, I crave a bar snack. Yes, not quite so rudimentary though. Well, actually yes. For I remember sampling these peanuts from when I was a mere child in the Old City Market of Old Jeddah, roasted on street corners on top of giant tin pots. More than anything, its the smell that brings me back to my childhood days, whenever I see the vendors around, and so it remains a constant reminder.


That, and To this day I still occasionally pine for them, whenever I have the courage to stray into the ghetto/eat such highly calorific nuts, so its not like its a forgotten taste.

Yes. I am a girl. 

NB: I will gradually keep adding more as of when my sporadic memory has fits of recollection

Read more!

[Restaurant - Eritrean] Hand's-off, MAI Zigni! MINE!; Mosob of Maida Vale

Location - Maida Vale, London [UK]

Torture; the forcing of actions on an individual against their will to inflict as much physical and/or psychological damage in order to obtain a certain goal. Suffice to say, I applied a lot of said torture in my incessant obsession for Zigni of late, and after tonight, I can certainly say. It was worth it. Nevermind the sobbing shells of my friend's former selves that resulted. I. Got. My. Zigni.

All is now right with the world. That is all.

It is actually very difficult to remember where my actual obsession with Zigni started out - I think it was last summer where when in Saudi Arabia I had Zigni for leftovers for lunch, made by a Colleague of my Father's, who is Ethiopian, and at once, I was dumbstruck. I was literally left in a state of clinical, brain-dead, Zigni-induced Coma. It was, amazing. Oh, I guess that wasn't so hard then. However, that was not enough, and on returning to England, I forget how the obsession was reignited, but I vaguely remember Googling something, and finding the results for Injera, and on reading on I had one of those peculiar moments where I was adamant that I could recall the taste of the food. It was very strange as I could not for the life of me remember WHERE I tasted it, but I know I had had it, and what it tasted of. Suffice to say, there would only be one way to satiate this - if I could recall a taste by simple reading of a name, it would haunt me till I were to replace half my bodyweight with said food item.

I can safely say that the above was perhaps a motivating factor for the entire notion of wanting to travel the world and try out new ways of creating myself epic constipation through excessive face-stuffing - mind you, I always loved to eat, but just remembering the epicity [Copyright, mine] of Injera and Zigni, made me sought to find such an outlet in the UK, to at least tide me over till I returned to Saudi Arabia. And save me from the fatal mediocrity of Edgware Road. Surprisingly, Zigni seems to be a fairly recognisable dish here, perhaps glorified by the idiotic, Covent Garden-trolling "Trendy" Hippy ethnic-loving students like the ones sat next to us last night, and as such, it was not hard to find an outlet. What was difficult was finding one in a Reasonable area [i.e. as Huzaifah will concur, above the River] - my only motivating factor for Mosob was that it had garnered largely unanimous reviews from the likes of UrbanSpoon and London Eating, as well as...well. The website was pretty. I had initially wanted to go to Zigni House, but that was a bit too far East. We are a very open-minded group you see - we concentrate outings above the river, more towards the West. Blatently because, err. We have ample valid reasoning for such.

*Cough*

So, outing organised, frantic over excited booking made ["I'm Italian, I love Zigni! I lived in Saudi, we can take our spices, don't hold back!], reasonable group invited, done. The group consisted of myself, Huzaifah - who's father was born in Asmara, and who frequently has Zigni at home, my Sister - who ate the Zigni from which I had the leftovers in Saudi, Vera - a family friend who is so enamoured with Zigni, that she has legally included it as her middle name [Not really, but until last week, I had actually believed such was the case], and her friend. Who was a vegetarian. And therefore, a blasphemer. Unfortunately, I was not able to relegate her to a desolate corner, or to voice this opinion.

On arriving at the venue, pleasant, superficial surprises abound - Huzaifah's fear of straying into "the Ghetto" were suitably cast aside when we walked into a cosy, unpretentious outlet [the website led me to believe we'd be met with TGI Eritrea Dungarees], with plenty of locals sitting around. My over zealous booking obviously rang a note with the restaurant as I was greeted as "The Zigni Man". After an hour waiting for the remaining guests, our patience/resolve had disappeared, and so me and Huzaifah dived straight in...quite literally...

~ Starter ~
- Qategna

...That's what waiting for an hour will do. I had finished my Qategna rolls before remembering to take a picture. Which took around 0.54ms. I devoured them. And. Epinoms. I chose Qategna for one reason. Well. Other than the fact that it was spicy, and deep-fried. in Ghee. I chose it because it is almost pronounced the same as my surname. Destiny? You try convincing me otherwise. You'll end up like them.

Immediately, the taste of Injera was met with a matching of the taste I could remember - whilst by no means a light dish, it was absolutely delectable; the sourness of the Injera worked with the Harissa-ish spices to create an awesome amalgamation of flavours. Whilst not spicy enough for me, adding some Awaze spice dip only added to this. It was over so quickly. I needed moar. MOAR. And we should have as we waited ANOTHER hour before the others had arrived. I don't think me and Huzaifah could have shown more restraint to be brutally Honest. I would've deep fried my arm in Ghee..

~ Main Course ~
- Mixed Platter [Zigni, Derho Qulwa, Bamia Mis Siga, Hamli Mis Ajibo, Mosob Special]

Whilst I was ready to consume my weight in Zigni, mainly due to the one hour we were forced to wait after starters for the remainder of the party to arrive, I was assured that there would be enough Zigni if we shared a platter to at least feed a developing African nation, and hopefully satiate me as well. It had better.

I was not disappointed.

Again, I almost struggled to maintain restraint, nearly eating the camera in a flurry to take a picture before the platter was consumed. This was, a platter of which no greatness of such calibre had ever met before. It was the "Expendables" of wins, you know, in promise, without being a complete failure. Like the film. The Zigni was delicious, though, I think the reams written in the introduction would somewhat serve to set a tone on my ability to leave bias out of a review - however, spices were distinct, and supporting in flavours, rather than overpowering, leaving the meat to shine through. Difficulty was met in the lack of cutlery - the injera bread is essentially an Eritrean Pocket Knife of dining, for not only is it a bread, but it also doubles up as cutlery. Ok, a two trick pony. However, as my experience at Mirch Massala made obvious, I'm somewhat lambasted for wanting cutlery, as, you know, that's so wrong. Though. Attempting to keep everyone's hands off without getting mine on would have proved counter productive in its irony, hence the title. Perhaps I should have licked my hands and plastered them all over the Zigni. Hmm.

Anyway, the rest of the platter was equally amazing - the lentils extraordinarily so, being incredibly hearty and buttery, which were served with the Lamb Chops and equally buttery smooth/flavoured Spinach [Mosob Special]. The lamb chops, wow, they looked like charcoal briquettes but tasted amazing, with a slightly sweet tinge to the flavour. The Chicken [Derho Qulwa] and Okra Stew [Bamia Mis Siga] were also delectable, the Okra stew especially so, combining some earthy flavours with the sharpness of the Okra. If there were one qualm however it was for a slightly shattered expectation, brought on from my rather forthcoming announcement on the phone - nothing was especially spicy for me, despite having rattled off my Saudi Arabian upbringing. Others didn't agree but they're infedels to spice.

~ Dessert ~
- Bigusto Nonna

Obviously, with the sheer quantity of epicity [Again, Copyright] experienced until now, something had to fall clear of the standard, for otherwise the universe would implode from the intense unbalancing of the forces of nature. And as such, this balance was redistributed by the mediocrity of the pre-packaged dessert. Huzaifah's Tiramisu' was an Ice-cream and my pie obviously came in a box - the only highlight were the toasted pine nuts which gave a satisfying crunch, otherwise, it only served to provide a pallet cleansing sweet note. And thus. Forgiven.

Actually, not quite. Well, it wasn't terrible, though on next visit I would probably do without.

~ Drinks ~
- Miés [Eritrean Honey Wine]

Another intriguing indigenous part of the Zigni experience was apparently the combination of the Eritrean/Ethiopian Honey Wine, which I thought I must try. It was described to have a slight bitterness to taste with the inherent sweetness that served to freshen the spice of the food yet not weigh down. Unfortunately, the amount you see above was all that was left, or maybe there was more left but I ignorantly asked for "Tej" only to be corrected that the Eritreans called it "Mies", and so I was punished for this transgression. And it could not be fully enjoyed with the food as I had to wait two and a half hours before it arrived with the arrival of the guests.

What was of note though was that it was a very interesting drink - bittersweet, yet a strange absence of after-taste. Quite palette cleansing. Though why anyone would want to cleanse their palette of heavenly Zigni, I do not know. Hell. Dip me in Berbere and I will GLADLY smell of Zigni for the rest of my days too. Or until I eat myself.

- Bunne

Considering it was nearing the 4th hour of our dining experience, I was a bit tentative about going through a "Ceremony" for my coffee, but I insisted. I need not have worried again, for using the word Ceremony is probably a bit overwrought.

It is probably something aimed more at newcomers, or those idiot students. It's basically just drinking coffee in Arabic-style finjals, combined with popcorn and the ambience set with the incense, but having already been there for a few millennia it probably didn't suit, especially as only 3 of us had the coffee. Correction, two people had a couple of cups each, and I had the remaining gallon. Not too much heartache I suppose - I needed some means of dissolving the Zigni-flavoured awesomeness in my belly, and something to keep me awake on the 80mi return journey home. So perse', the ceremony was wasted on us, as if the entire ordeal were to take place within 4 hours it would have been fine, but adding another 2 hours for coffee as would probably would have suited, was not in the cards. Not when we arrived at 7:30 and it was already 11:30.

The coffee by the way was excellent - not as strong or as bitter as an Italian Roast espresso, but very smooth to drink, a lovely coffee. Shame we couldn't enjoy it to its intent for the aforementioned reasoning - Huzaifah probably held back as espresso tends to have the uncanny ability of liquidating his bowel movements in the blink of an eye, quite an astounding phenomena.

~~~~

Overall, the experience was tempered with awesomeness, more awesomeness, and wins of epic proportions. And I could keep adding internet-geek 'leet speak but it wouldn't adequately convey the awesomeness. Whilst service was a bit slow - obviously, us making a 19:30 Appointment, and having guests arrive upto 2 hours late perhaps did not necessitate a brevity of response - it was almost as amazing as the food. All it needed was to be deep-fried in Ghee.

At once we were almost involved as regulars, as if we were trying to be made to feel as part of "the family", as cheesy as it sounds - perhaps something those infernal students convinced themselves of - with the waiters explaining their origins, showing us books of Asmara, and introducing us some interactive games to stave off our hunger/boredom whilst waiting for the guests. Granted, I/we did feel heart-broken when the same treatment was reserved for all the other customers, but I guess love must be shared. Hmph. And this is nothing to say of the food - it all added to an amazing experience.

I'm only talking about the food here, that was the core of my life-affirming event, but the rest was nice too. Drawing from the title, not only was, and Eritrean dining is, a hand's on experience, short of elbowing everyone in the jaw and running away with the platter, I was forced to scream out the title influence in my head for it was hard to keep hand's off. I need not have worried yet again though, as the torture is due to begin all over, as I very much doubt I will be able to restrain myself when it comes to annihilating the leftovers for lunch.

If you hear an explosion from the South Greater London Area, with a resultant spicy aroma and shards of injera flying everywhere, you'll know the score.

[I has no shame]

Read more!

[Restaurant - Italian] Daphnetely Meh; Daphne's of South Kensington

Location - South Kensington, London [UK]

Oh dear, it would seem as with my other blogs, I sometimes endeavour [Yes, it is an actual accomplishment!] too hard with creating a unique title, ending up with a rather contrived result. Which is essentially how I would describe the aforementioned restaurant in a nutshell. Hmm, that about works! Win! I hope this would set a subtle tone for the experience, though let it be said that it was not terrible.

Rather, fitting for the location I would think. There is no real story of how we came to dine here - I just came into town with Huzaifah and the place was pre-booked by our Chelsea Apartment living Russian Friend. Hint. Stereotypes. Me? Never ^-^. One thing that struck me immediately though, was that my rather inept brain couldn't quite come to terms with a rather trivial fact - an Italian restaurant, called Dafini? Delfini??

Then the taxi pulls up - DAPHNE'S?! Erm, whut? Hmm. Prejudicial mode on.

~ Starter ~
- Insalata di Barbabietola e Caprino

Spurred by my exceedingly daring streak and want, no, NEED to try out dishes of a different slant, I pined for the aforementioned, which in this case, was a Beetroot and Goat's Cheese salad. Heavens! Essentially, I have never eaten Beetroot, and I love Goat's Cheese. Hitherto, my two main motivating factors. That, and it would make me feel less guilty about the inevitable dessert.

I know, living on the edge. And. Well, my inner Bear Gryll's died a little. And in a future foretold, you will see a similar response shortly. It would seem the Beetroot was poached of all flavour, almost in its entirety, as was what I presumed to be slices of papaya..well, it had the look and consistency of papaya at least. The goat's cheese however was plentiful and delicious - the sharp, tangy nature of the "crust" soon gave way to a lovely creamy cheese and all was forgotten. Again, as said of a previous Goat's cheese salad I sampled, I would have happily been contented with just a big slab of goat's cheese, but perhaps to expect so was disingenuous. Other than the lack of depth from the Beetroot, the sour leaves were not to my liking, but combined very well with the cheese, and the dressing was well suited - sweet, yet not overtly so, and very light.

A liked salad, mainly for the cheese though.


~ Main Course ~
- Spalla d'Agnello con Lenticchie, Cotechino e Cavolo

Already from the title you can tell the sheer sophistication of this dish, the depth of intricate flavours. No? Actually, no, this is a simple Venetian [I think] dish, commonly consumed on New Year's Eve, composed of Roast lamb, lentils, boiled pig's foot meat, and in this case served with some wilted greens. See, sophisticated!

Actually, I chose this as, well, it was the most interesting thing available, and something I've never had in a restaurant [but have had essentially every New Year's, minus the lamb]. And. Well. You shouldn't be surprised by the forthcoming description, as it was foretold. These semantics help me with the stresses of boredom. And essentially that's what this dish was. Boring. It was well presented, naturally, however, maybe disingenuously yet again, I was surprised by the proportioning of quantities - a huge serving of lamb [good!], but, a meagre splash of lentils [there goes hopes of digesting the meat], and, where's the Cotechino!? I ordered this FOR the cotechino! Oh, wait, there's a little pinkish cube. And another. And that's it. Not. Impressed. BAH! Mind you, it is a specialist meat, and maybe I shouldn't expect the hockey puck-sized discs usually served at home. Imagine the reactions restaurants would get though if they breeched expectations!

Otherwise, this was a very forgettable dish - there were too small a smattering of lentils to add to the meatiness of the lamb, there was too little cotechino to flavour the lentils. As for the lamb, it was quite. Dry. For it to be roasted? I had to double check. I mean that dry as in almost crisp - inside it wasn't spectacularly moist, but it wasn't carbonised. However, with a dearth of residual moisture in the dish, it left an essentially single-track dish, a bit rudimentary. Disappointing. Good quality lentils though - in Italy the size of the lentils are essentially related to quality, the smaller being the most revered, and these were tiny. However as previously mentioned, the execution probably didn't serve them to their potential.

~ Dessert ~
- Torta allo Zenzero Speziata con Mascarpone

That's Ginger Cake with Mascarpone, heathens, learn some Italian! It is also, the saving grace. Far too much religious terminology, but mascarpone this rich certainly cannot be anything other than divine!

Ok, I'll stop with this overwrought description now, for I fear the hand of..

Bah! It was epic. Reasoning for the choice is that it is something I wouldn't usually go for, surrounded by the usual Tiramisu's and Pannacotta's and....Crumble. And as such, it was a conventional grainy cake, pardon my complete lack of knowledge, and delightfully moist at that. The hint of spice permeating was delectable as well, which suited perfectly the richness of the mascorpone, at once giving it a highlight, and combining with the sweetness of the cake. I was actually struggling to pace myself and may have eaten part of the dessert spoon. No matter. Another unexpected delight was how well I paired the dessert wine!

[No, I'm not leaving you hanging, but for the sake of categorising, my extraordinary wine selection effort is relegated below ^_^]

~ Drinks ~
- Vin Santo Dessert Wine

The Vin Santo, I know is a well renowned dessert wine in Italy, Tuscany region. And. Not much else. And I don't pretend to know much else about its preferred combinations. However, something told me, almost beckoned me to convince myself it would suit a "Spice" cake well.

When it arrived, replete with a plate of cantuccini sweets, I figured I could be onto something. Something struck me as familiar but I am largely ignorant and had no idea how the wine/biscuits were to be combined, but combine they did. Well. A very rich wine, quite honeyed, which when paired with the almond biscuit just lightened up. This effect was exemplified when combined with the ginger cake, what with its spicy note, combining to great effect. I have no idea what I have just attempted to describe, but I somehow understand the Aramaic ramblings, or rather the motive for such gloriously elaborate descriptions, of appreciators of spirits, wines and so on!

~~~~

Overall it was a mixed but sedate experience, not combining any real expectations with any particular disappointment. Especially as any Italian "Daphne's" would probably be found on the Border with France. Probably more so in France. The service was quite slow, and obviously appalled with my spoken Italian. Despite being Italian. I know, I should be ashamed.

For what my narrow-mind can fathom, this was a restaurant that perhaps combined itself with a smattering of pretension considering the area it is in; nothing in the menu was particularly creative, traditional - or rather, regional - and in execution, I was left wanting more. Other than the Dessert, though as I've made it plenty clear in other posts, I find it hard to criticise desserts. Though that remains to be seen when I try out an infamous South-East Asian Red Bean Paste-based Dessert. Mmm. Delectable.

Even dishes which perhaps sound eccentric, such as Pappardelle with Wild Boar Ragu' seem to be becoming a tad de rigeur of late with Italian Eateries, as an aforementioned trip to Chiswick and the observing for 5-6 nearly identical French Eatery menu's revealed similar trends for the French. In the end, perhaps I feel this restaurant has to project a certain class and execution to its food to cater for a certain clientelle - evidenced by the fact we were by and large so underdressed as to be naked in relative comparison - and I perhaps keep getting self-facepalmed by the disingenuous notion that I expect farmer food to taste like farmer food, despite the location. If you're counting, that's the nth time I said disingenuous. And disingenuous again. Pumpkin Smile Tangerine [?].

Bah.

Dessert made me happy though, so, that obviously means I wub Daphne. Just for desserts. And the Vin Santo. And Dessert again.

That is all.

Read more!