[Event - Sake Tasting] Kanpa-i Hasegawa Saketen Sake Tasting

Location - Piccadilly, London [UK]

With each passing week my relative passion for Sake, through learning and research, not outright drinking - too many empty calories you see - builds steam, obviously not helped by the relative strides I've made in research. Which include the unfathomable purchasing of reading materials such as books, eBooks and personal tastings. Which leads me to this latest tasting event, a mere twelve days after the last one, which itself occurred more than two months lull after the original event that sparked this intense infatuation. Emphasis on the fat, as that is all these empty calories will achieve. As well as some hopeful enlightenment. Yeah, Kanpai >_>.

This latest event was held yet again at the Japanese Embassy, a fitting place naturellement! Hosted this time by Hasegawa Saketen, which I would think it is safe saying, the culprits/divine beings largely responsible for instilling this obsession of sake in me. Much to reiterate, repeat and so on till death do us part, it all started back way back when before I was turned a quarter of a century of age [o_o] - a friend, who was similarly enthralled by many things Japan had emailed about an upcoming Japanese exposition, taunting me that in my typical show of absolute useless commitment of will, that I would not attend. So obviously I checked out the event details to contradict his rather truthful statement. Therein, I inherently headed straight for the Cuisine section whereby I found the stall details of a Sake Vendor. I was intrigued. Why is the man at the stall smiling? Why are there so many bottles, of such variety of colour, size, labelling, of Basmati Water? Is it such a proud drink to warrant bringing it to an exposition that would presumably be filled predominantly by Pokemon-clad individuals that should really be old enough to know better? This titillates me. What an amusing word. Titillates.

Research begun, interest well and truly piqued, first Sake Tasting event experienced, seed of obsession planted. That stall, was hosted by Hasegawa Saketen. Further enabling my obsession wherein I entrapped one of their employees at said stand at the aforementioned event, he brought to my attention a Trade Sake Tasting Event occurring in mid-September, and that I would be welcome to attend, perhaps in a move to relinquish my unfaltering grip of newbie-information gathering, and after the exchange of a few emails, it was to be so. The preceding tasting at the Japanese Embassy had left me in a bit of a quandary; whilst I was able to sample a whole 24 different examples of sake, I was barely left enlightened. I was left more confused than ever. Despite the rather obvious variances and differences between the brews, I was left cataclysmic-ally unable to express just what it was I was experiencing. Perhaps it was the forsaking of dinner at the event, or the complete lack of lifeforms within the vast empty expanse that is my cranium, but I was completely unable to explain just what was occurring with each new found drink. Which left me, elated. Elated, because suddenly, all the advice I had received that had previously frustrated, all the research that had left me unenlightened, suddenly, started to make sense.

Concentrating so hard on attempting to comprehend the intricacies of sake by enterprising on the unique and niche variants of sake, and the wildly differing characteristics thereof, I was essentially denying myself a proper grounding of the understanding of the core sake drink. There is more than Basmati to this water, and I had rushed to comprehend that. I had also attended the previous event completely unprepared, and thus understandably, rather dumbstruck. A factor only worsened by the adding of empty stomach to copious sake. This event would be different however. For there is promise of food. Lots of food. I also brought notes.

~ It Begins ~

I arrived early, prohibitively so, possibly overeager at the prospect of building up my repertoire furthermore, intent on not missing out on any of the variants available. My arrival coincided as well with the arrival of the gentleman that stoked this fire of obsession [I would say fuelled by sake, but I doubt it is alcoholic enough to literally keep it aflame], which with a restrained greeting, was let in, and was gone. What, no generous guest pass for the times we shared?! Maybe that vocal imprisonment was still fresh in his mind. Or my numerous emails kept him awake at night. It seems to be an effect I have on people. Regardless, I waited. And waited. And waited some more... The guards occasionally checking to see if petrification had settled in yet. I would suppose turning up over half an hour early to an Embassy Event would not have its benefits if you did not have the means, shattering all notions for a head start before the masses would swarm. My eventual release could not happen too soon, and I gradually made my way to the Ball Room, a scene of pleasantly intense confusion but twelve days before. Immediately I was struck with familiar faces, the waiters from the La Fromagerie Tasting greeting me with the evening itineraries. Then another, as Natsuki Something, Sake Sommelier at Roka, and serving at the Tohoku table at the last Sake tasting event, recognising me. This was slightly concerning that I had become somewhat recognisable - was I that hideously easy to remember/drunk/foreign? It could easily be an asset. Or my greatest enemy. 

~ The Sake ~

Nevertheless, clueless and vacant minded as always, I awaited further instruction, overhearing that we had to  be seated for the Flower Arrangement Display later. Super Cereal. I noticed mere platters of food upon the tables, perhaps hopeful in lieu of the purported 200 plus guests. It would seem, it what is rapidly becoming a recurring theme of mine, that I severely overestimated the food situation. In the meanwhile, I wrote out my generous donation to put me in good steed of the Sake Divinities, and the waiting recommenced. In the midst of this though, I started sighting, and overhearing of the giving out of what I thought would be the later serving of sake. I understandably bolted out, flabbergasted at the thought of having let valuable tasting time while away - I had a tight schedule if I misread this Programme correctly [half an hour of tasting/eating - sacre bleu!]. Happening towards the closest table, I was poured my first glass - the Asamasan Vento Seco [Gunma], a rather peculiar sounding Sake. Swirl, sniff, and sample, and I consulted my notes, trying to break up the individual characteristics of the sake. This would last but mere seconds, as I was comprehensively devoid of a starting point, and my former haunting of lack of a clue returned. I noted a very faint Muscat fragrance to the nose, and a low acidity. Maybe there was weight to this noticing, as the flavour did not spread much on the palate. That is all. That was my lot. BAH! Though not surprising, as in the twelve days I had barely expected to miraculously hone my blunt senses. Trying to capitalise on the time before the demonstration, I sidestepped to the next vendor, this time an English speaker. His face was familiar somehow, and he seemed to recognise me too. Cutting the romance short, he served me an Otokoyama Junmai Gingo [Yamagata] sake. It had a short finish. What steep learning curve?


Sat down, through the most excruciatingly mind-numbing demonstration ever, with the most misplaced dramatic soundtrack. EVAR. The flautist oscillated from calm, to intense to mellifluous, to the demonstrators placing and trimming of flowers in a pot. Its eventual conclusion more the exarcebated the desire for sake, and I was immediately back at the table of the mutual quasi-conoscienti. He was the sake Sommelier at Umu, and with that his mind too came flooding back, thanking me for filling in that blank. A few words were shared, obviously an individual passionate for sake, and I asked for advice on where to start, the chaos well and truly enveloping the tables. Away I departed, heading for the Azumaichi table on the suggestion of the Sommelier, where I was promptly served the Azumaichi Low Alcohol [Saga] sake. Obviously I had been mistaken for one of the plethora of novices at the event, heathen. Though in many respects, I was, as beyond noting that the flavour filled out at the recesses of the mouth, I noticed not much else. Other than being particularly light-bodied as I would think Low Alcohol sakes tend to in their bid to gently introduce people to this blossoming drink. Whilst writing down my deeply enlightening notes, I recognised the purveyor of my obsession for sake, the man indirectly but directly responsible - Mr. Hasegawa himself, who was also hosting the event tonight. I bombarded him with appraisal, asked a few questions that were left wanting with replies, and was handed a business card. He spoke later at the front, with Natsuki Whatsherface translating. Face, meet palm. 
I continued around. What food I saw at the beginning of the evening was comprehensively mobbed by exaggerated queues, obviously portraying the predominant interest of attendees. Granted, free food is free food, but this was ridiculous. In my hope in vain for a quicker moving queue, I also bumped into and was recognised by another familiar face, a random gentleman I queried with at the previous tasting event as he questioned the effectiveness of ageing sake - I this time brought up my rebuttal. Only twelve days late. Not wishing to waste more time, more sake was sought, this time heading to a sake brewery that was advised to me by both the Hasegawa employee, and by the British Sake Association. I was poured out a glass of Toyo Bijin Junmai Daiginjo [Yamaguchi] sake, wherein I commenced again with my futile proceedings. This one garnered a bit more than the wise musings of the previous sake, adding to its description a nose of strawberry combined with a short finish, again. Maybe my strawberry based breakfasts' were compromising my ability here, as I doubt that all sakes smell of strawberry, or so my notes infer. The sake staff seemed rather intrigued by my seriousness in the tasting of the sakes, perhaps as everyone else was just sampling their wares for the alcohol content. Philistines. Whilst there, I recognised yet someone else - either the sake entourage is small in London, or incestuous it would seem - I would return to him later. More sake as the food queues showed no sign of subsiding. Another suggested sake, this time a Tokubetsu Junmai by Isojiman [Shizuoka]. This sake was made with Omachi Rice, and not that my inspiring notes revealed such, stating that the aroma was ricey [REALLY?!], but this sake immediately struck a chord with me. I remember it being rather well bodied and maybe earthy. It would seem Tokubetsu Junmai's are garnering some sort of preference in my limited and thoroughly unprofound repertoire.

~ The "Food" ~

I believe it was at this point where I made the formal decision to grind through the prospect of waiting in a queue and headed for some nourishment of the solid kind - as my increasingly ragged handwriting was insinuating, the sake's effect on me was becoming rather apparent. The dead crawl of the queue was startling, did everyone ignore the section of the programme that hinted at the predominant Sake theme of the evening? Were they all out to sabotage my notions of an ample "dinner" available for this evening? Bah, too much thinking. Eventually reaching the tables, I was filled with dismay. What remained were a mere couple of trays of assorted skewers, meagre vegetables, and little else. I blinked, and the food was essentially gone. It what happens when you prioritise.

Edamame, assorted fritters, chicken yakitori and breaded skewers

So I snatched what I could, amounting from the one row of tables to a few edamame pods, a couple of miscellaneous fritters, a chicken yakitori skewer covered in barbecue sauce, and a couple of breaded skewers. They were tepid. Temperature, interest, everything. The fritters were not discernible, not actually knowing what they were, perhaps chicken. The yakitori was as exciting as grilled chicken can be, though the barbecue sauce was pleasantly not too sweet and commercial tasting. The other two skewers were peculiar - these were formed of an alternating assortment of meat and onion, then completely breaded over. Other than that, they were still uninteresting and struggled to feed the pooling sake in my stomach. This scene had instantly become familiar.

Not wishing to lose steam, I persisted in the queue, following round the other side of the ballroom to other assorted treats. There I found the Hasegawa employee of destiny furiously preparing away the little treats, obviously struggling to keep pace with the voracious appetite of the masses. He quipped that same notion. Not wishing to imprison him yet again by dint of having his boss mere metres away - who am I kidding, I was just hungry - I took hold of one of the treats and waited in line for the next.

Tofu Block with [devoured] Fried Lotus Stem

The peculiarly ornate combination of a petite seasoned tofu blocked topped with a fried disc of Lotus root captured my eye when I first entered the ballroom. I was less captivated when devouring it however. The lotus root basically was a very dry potato crisp, though perhaps starchier in nature, though the tofu block had an interesting seasoning. A rather predominant infusion of juniper came through, surprising me as I did not think juniper were a spice typically used in Japanese cuisine. That was its only highlight however. And by the time I had completed it, the Wagyu beef rolls being prepared next to them had gone extinct. Damnations. Some skewers and a block of tofu?! These, would not suffice. Not that I was left with a choice, as I had essentially exhausted what remained of items of sustenance. So I returned to the original mission, embracing the modicum of sustenance I had just consumed to assist me with further tasting..Ignorance. Bliss. Et cetera.

~ Moar Sake ~

I ventured around, trying to locate tables I had not neared as of yet, in a bid to spread out the assortment of sakes tasted as much as I could. Nearing the Ugo no Tsuki [Hiroshima] stand, I was poured yet again a Low Alcohol Sake, this time a Junmai. Yet another assumptive vendor, and yet another appropriately useless note by me - it had a short finish. Proud of my indepth analysis, I entertained the vendor next door, or table, that had the welcome benefit of speaking English, and thus allowing me to exclaim certain words that would avoid me being pigeon-holed with yet more Low Alcohol Basmati Water. I was started out with the Yonetsuru Junmai Daiginjo Dewa Sansan [Yamagata] sake, a sake I purported as having a funky aroma, with aeons passing by trying to determine just what nuance I could suss out on the palace. Liquorish? That will have to do. I motioned for the next, this one a Junmai Dewa no Sato - I apparently detected an earthy aroma, which gave way to a drink with a light impact and finish. So essentially it was what a Junmai sake is typically purported to be, rich in fragrance but delicate of nature. It would seem I'm learning perhaps. I concluded with the last of the available Yonetsuru sakes, this one a Junmai Gingo Dewa no Sato. It was rich. And I was poor. Very much so in descriptive powers, and in literal terms. 

With the time ticking down, and notions of ever reaching more food seeming distant, I started making my last few rounds to make a last ditch attempt at some semblance of sustenance, as well as make the most of the available sakes to taste. The chaos was a serious hindrance, but I was determined. I joined the queue for food again, on observing the return of the formerly exhausted Wagyu rolls, patiently watching as the thin slices and preparations continued. With the rolls disappearing at a formidable rate, despite the thinning audiences. Fortunately, with only a couple to spare, I was granted retribution, and the treat was mine, to serve as a further modicum of solids in my sake storage vessel of a stomach. Sadly, that is all the roll served - comprising of a raw Wagyu slice encompassing a smattering of julienned vegetables, overwhelmingly flavourful it was not. With that, I was content enough to continue for a while longer, vying to try the remaining sakes available. 

I approached the Zaku [Mie] table which served me their Nakadori Yamadanishiki Junmai Ginjo sake. Obviously what little food I had consumed had not brought about any enlightening sobriety, as the "richness" of this drink was all I could muster. Splendid. Much was the same at the Jokigen [Yamagata] table after sampling their Daiginjo Misato Nishiki, noting its light aroma. This obviously went hand in hand with the aerated light head of mine. I returned to the Azumaichi table as the commentator announced the looming closing time of the event, in the aim to build upon the heinously misappropriated novice Low Alcohol sake thrust upon me and sample something more representative, following the suggestions from the Hasegawa employee and others. This time I was given a sampling of their Junmai Ginjo Yamadanishiki sake. Slightly more effort or awareness this time, but as always, I noted a light aroma, but a rich palate. The finish was apparently restrained, my scribbles denoting it as "witheld". I am not entirely sure what I was insinuating. The event was well into the closing time now, a lot of bottles completely empty, and the Shochu I had been wanting to try long having been dried out. I encountered Chris Hughes once again, a stifled greeting giving way to some shared words. Advice was asked for, not much was offered or gleaned, some tentative announcements made. 

I left it there, making a bid for some last minute bid for food, or any bottom of the bottle sakes. I joined the line for the Sashimi, having only just remembered of its existence. Despite the emptying of the hoards, the queue was still healthy, so with its proximity to the Umu Sommelier, I engaged in some lively conversation, sharing what we had tasted and so forth. It was pleasing, his enthusiasm captivating and enlightening, only serving to worsen my own. I exclaimed how I found my favourite thus far in the Isojiman Tokubetsu Junmai sake, one of the ones he had suggested following on from my recalling of the sake he chose at my birthday meal at Umu. On this statement, he suggested me another sake to try which should appeal, pulling out and serving me a sampling of Biden Junmai Yamahai Yamadanishiki Sake [Fukoka]. It was appealing. A funky aroma yet again, obviously a word of a thousand uses in my case, it had a soft impact on the palate, and was rather smooth. Beyond that I could not determine more, but it was certainly interesting. With the queue progressing, I temporarily saluted him in order to not miss out on yet another meagre morsel of food by way of the ravenous remaining free food seizers. Arriving, I was met with the rhythmic procession of human sashimi machine preparation, churning out roll after roll. 

Salmon Sashimi courtesy of Zuma/Roka

Two were taken, devoured, and moderately enjoyed. Perhaps the subtle pleasures of sashimi and the like are best enjoyed away from such chaotic proceedings, and before the copious ingestion of sake, as they were otherwise bland, but generously sized morsels. Most of the tables now had cleared their wares, and the ballroom was quickly emptying out - obviously the supply of food was slowing and losing the interest of the attendees, who would presumably be raging through the streets of London for more sustenance. I returned to the Sommelier, expressed my thanks and saluted him, with him inviting me back to Umu. I then chased out the Hasegawa employee, to likewise express my thanks, for...something, not that he was particularly present or available during the evening. With that, the second of my tastings at the Embassy of Japan was done.

Tastings that were completely different in nature and scope than what I had expected. The serenity, focus of purpose of the first fateful event on June 30th giving way to a series of chaotic congregations of attendees of myriad intentions. These events, unlike I was expecting, were geared more towards introducing, promoting and encouraging the wonderfully culturally-intensive drink upon the masses, rather than further education, enlighten and inform those already aware. Which is what I desperately sought. Once again, I emerged thoroughly unenlightened. In essence at an event with such a broad mission as a charity event, that draws persons of all familiarisations with sake, it would be a hard task to cater for all, and perhaps would distract from the main scope of the evening. Bah to that. Though I did contribute to the cause, a whole 0.64% of the total amount raised [perhaps more, as the exchange rate ever plunges]. Yeayer. Crucially though, I did come away with more literal experience, if not figurative, having added a further 13 sakes to my repertoire, for a grand total of 50 sampled thus far [and four umeshus]. My ability to articulate the samplings however, remains as catastrophically inept as always. 

I was rather surprised with the acquaintances building. It is a given that the presence of Sake in the London society is still a fledgling one, but the proliferation of familiar faces and recognitions still struck fear bewildered me, meaning I was far too identifiable. Obviously a hindrance should I cause any transgressions in the future. Nevertheless, there is a benefit - a lot of the familiar faces being well grounded and versed in the Sake circles would mean I have relative access to information and assistance. Certainly with building on these, I can hope to one day overcome my atrocious lack of a clue when it comes to ascertaining and describing such intricacies as the ones apparent in the drinking of sake. The event however, remained a pleasant experience. Despite the abhorrent chaotic mess of people making movement a figurative notion, and decimating food [and shochu] supplies, and the resultant lack of more focussed proceedings, I still managed to broaden my repertoire, if only by volume. Having been so comprehensively redirected by the former tasting nearly a couple of weeks prior, giving a sense of direction at least to my over-enthused proceedings in the bid to build a solid grounding of knowledge upon which to build upon, I found some solace despite the fact that I had not actually learnt much in the twelve days. So how do I progress from here? 

Well.

If I had the answer, I would not ask. However, I can only continue on, and build on experience. Build on the research. Build on the advice asking. Build on my fame in search of new resources ^_^. And whilst the attempt to bring flavour charts to better understand what I was tasting was thwarted by the fact that a) there was far too much going on to be bothered with using the chart, b) I had no baseline to use the chart from and c) I still don't have a clue, and thus it overly complicated matters, I can only keep on keeping on in order to understand. It is just a matter of hammering in this quality into my particularly thick skull. 

More importantly of this point in time, it was also imperative to hammer down some more items of substance into my system, for "peace of mind". Dinnar calls. 

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[Restaurant - Corsican] Short Take - The Frenchman makes Pizza? Cors-i-can!; Sandy's of Paddington

Location - Marylebone, London [UK]

Barring the transgression of the infeasibly corny title, an explanation is due. In my quest to ever explore the world's culinary scene, starting from the rather skewed outlook of sampling via restaurants, I always strive to seek out the more eclectic of cuisines. Naturally, I thought, the more unique the cuisine on offer, perhaps a truer interpretation can be expected as there would not likely be a dilution of the cuisine. Or similarly without the competition, standards could falter and the eccentric qualities could be sacrificed due to a lack of pressure. Killing my point. Regardless, when I came across a Pizzeria, no less a Corsican Pizzeria, my interest was more than piqued. Especially as despite its inclusion in France, the Italian influence remains obvious. 

I actually happened across this restaurant completely and utterly randomly. Searching for a restaurant to subsist my slight inebriation and subsequent need to quell the alcohol following a Sake tasting event, I casually e-strolled onto Google Maps to figure out walking distances to a predetermined location. In doing so, a nearby restaurant was indicated - Corsiwhat? A Corsican restaurant?! Seriously? Yes, super cereal. I however, had already chosen my dinner plans, making my indecisive streak revel. It was duly short-listed, but its temptation was imminently stronger than I. I certainly was not going to have a pizza, not any time soon at least, as I am still on my "recovery" phase of extinguishing the flame of guilt of gorgings just passed. The desserts however, are rather more enticing than the blank menu displayed on my predetermined dinner plans'  menu. Compromise perhaps?

Intriguing prospect. So, the day before the planned occurrence I visited both establishments, located but within a few footsteps of one another - confirmed for places for one at the one place, and confirmed I can have my "just desserts" at the second. Done. I have thus lined up a new option for a backup dessert location.

And as desserts at the dinner place proved profusely uninteresting, it was time for the backup. 

~ Dessert ~ 

- U Fiadone

I had already decided in advance what I was going to have, and despite being the failsafe choice of a cheesecake, it had the intrigue of being so much more. It was a national cheesecake. With a decidedly rustic sounding name. And there is also no possible detractor from a cheesecake. The rather artfully, almost too much so, displayed dessert comprised of the cheesecake, along with a quenelle of what I presume to have been whipped cream [natural] and a scoop of what I did not know was honey & rosemary ice-cream. 

Struggling to contain myself, I lunged at the dessert, obviously first attacking the cheesecake. Regional cheesecakes are always intriguing, as the permutations vary widely, from the cheese used to the baking technique and so forth. This one was baked, and not overly sweet like the ubiquitous cream cheese -based ones, and also very milky. This would become obvious once a quick Google check revealed that the cheese used is Brocciu', which is similar to Italian Ricotta. French island, pshh. As such, it was incredibly light, with similarly natured pastry, being crumbly and not too heavily buttered. The whipped cream was most certainly of the natural variety, tasting rather creamy, with a hint of greasiness, and it quite naturally worked wonderfully with the Fiadone, throwing back in some richness. The ice-cream, was intriguing though at the time I did not know why. It did not taste of vanilla, but it was similar, though I did not interpret anything as audacious as rosemary, otherwise I would have screamed in delight and amazement. Suffice it to say, again this paired up well with the cake, diffusing its richness and slight sweetness into the cake. 

All this conspired to making the dessert disappear rather quickly. The green tuille was also devoured. Most definitely satisfactorily. 

~ Drinks ~

- Muscat du Cap Corse

Ignoring the suggested dessert wine in the interests of remaining to the traditional products of Corsica - I know, my sense of adventure knows no bounds - I opted for the aforementioned glass of Muscat Dessert wine. And whilst it did not throw any surprises, it did delight. A rather light wine for a muscat, not being overly sweet and honeyed, but instead particularly fresh and fruity in nature. It worked well enough with the cheesecake, its slight sweetness not interfering too much with the lightness of the Fiadone, and the fruitiness adding a lovely hint of freshness to the milkiness of the cheese. Ness pas?

~~~~

Sandy's most definitely came to the rescue. What would be a trifecta of eclectic experiences of the evening, starting with a sampling of 24 Sake's at the tasting taking place at the Japanese Embassy, through to a Mauritian dinner, culminated with a delightful Corsican dessert. Coming on a whim, I entered a delightfully light natured and very much quaint restaurant for dessert. From the chirpy members of staff, to the rustic decor, beyond the fact that a Corsican restaurant is rather quite diverse, the ambience inside did much to reinforce the fact. The walls covered in shutters, the subtle lighting of the hanging lamps, and the ceiling fans, really did create an atmospheric ambience, dare I say, a slight world removed from the usual hustle and bustle, and the typical tacky additions of some. It almost created a Mediterranean aura, but I hesitate to feel romanced. 

What did woo me however was the simple and delicate dessert, my saving grace from a rather disappointing dinner, and lovely cap the evening. Even the act of paying the bill, usually an occasion of frivolous escape planning, was wrought with quirky details, the receipt being presented within an ornate wooden trinket box. Whilst tempted to leave a note saying "I owe you" and thanking them for the memory, I digressed. As a backup plan, Sandy's more than delivered. It shall no longer be reduced to a backup, for the Fiadone deserves more than that, and back onto the short-list it goes.

However, the evening continued ever so slightly afterwards. Despite my pleasure groaning on the way to the Underground station, and obviously influenced by the still present sake in the light-headed party, I stopped by a shop. And purchased more desserts. Oh willflower, how I loathe thee.

Osmalieh & Qatayef

For the sake of reference, they were bland - due to the, fortunate, omission of simple syrup - with a slight pleasing crunchy toastiness, and much the same, but tasting of orange blossoms respectively. Bah -_-

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[Restaurant - Mauritian] Matriotic Duties; Seaport of Marylebone

Location - Marylebone, London [UK]

Decisions, decisions. How I dislike decisions. As much in recent times, I have slowly opened my mind, climbing out of my slight narrow-minded reluctance to stray too far from the norm on certain topics, leading myself to be more receptive to life's choices. This has come however, at a total sacrifice of my ability to decide, as now any decision is wrought with the provisional acceptance of any of a number of presented possibilities. I am not a teenage girl, I just am that indecisive. 

This was a scenario that repeated itself in my country of upbringing in Saudi Arabia, predominantly when the decision to be made was for the choice of dinner. Having an eclectic mix of possibilities, and eager to stray out of the normal succession of typical restaurants, choice was plentiful. However, the starting point was hideously difficult to choose. Particularly when the co-diners were equally as indecisive. Or rather, unwilling to relent the norm, and struggling for decisions therein. It was a ruthlessly irritating occurrence, resulting in plenty of aimless ambling on the streets, burning the petrol away. At 6p a litre however, it was barely a consideration. The growing hunger, was. There is no such luxury in London, a town many times larger than Jeddah, with a delirious number of establishments, and everything being priced to be within the touch of a Sovereign Prince. And no one else. This, a situation that plagues many a weekly decision for outings. However, with the veritable choice available, and some "must tries" short-listed, there are usually circumstances were potluck can be employed.  

With an upcoming Sake Tasting event on the horizon, and no sign of a provided dinner, I would have to seek an establishment to douse the alcohol and give it something to dissolve, other than myself. So, naturally, consult the short-list? Except the short-list is several hundred restaurants long. Ah. How the hell, to narrow down such a considered "short" list. Well, I had decided, with the absolutely preposterous couple of months of gorging barely subsiding, perhaps a locale within a decent walking range would be ideal. One criteria down. Since I walked the length of Park Lane the day before this previewed dinner, that only left me with a choice of still several hundred restaurants. Perhaps somewhere reasonably priced. Near the Japanese Embassy, surrounded by Park Lane, Knightsbridge and Piccadilly? Not even the force could help me there, lest I aim for...*shivers* Edgware Road. Or perhaps not one of the restaurants that I had envisioned would be George-safe, thus meaning more unique restaurants can be sampled rather than returning to a scene. 

These criterion accomplished nothing, though out of the blue, I had fallen on one of the short-listed. Ever having found a Mauritian restaurant, which actually met several of these facetious criteria, I had wondered. Just what is Mauritian cuisine?! Sure, I've been several times, and certainly my mother has made several examples. Nothing seemed distinctly national though, and the online menu did not release that notion either. However, perhaps I owed it to discovering the cuisine of one half of my nationality or some other weak argument, but it was decided. Seaport would feed me. Though with a missing Dessert menu, I would need a backup plan. Just for dessert. The evening beforehand I ensured places would be available, and checked up on a nearby outlet for emergency desserts. The scene was set. 

~ Starters ~

Aubergine de Monsieur George

Having studied the online menu religiously, as I do with all the eateries I sample, I arrived to find the object of my desire was missing. With all the availabilities on the menu looking largely identical, my indecisive streak revelled. With the sake demanding its supply of food, I made haste, and rather than make much exploratory gains, went for an item that appealed, and also had a bonus of vegetables. It also had goat's cheese. Decision consolidated. The dish from memory, was composed of aubergines topped with goat's cheese and grilled scallops, in a yoghurt and honey sauce. Sounded intriguing and different enough I thought. Not much of a sense of adventure I suppose but with fish not generally being my trait [though of late that would not seem the case], and the number of times I have eaten scallops amounting to less than the digits of a hand, I generally feel contented with a mission statement satisfied. 

Certainly it would seem it was an exotic dish, with the aeons required to get the waiters' attention translating into similar aeons to receive the food. Bored of staring at a mirror wall and the disgusting sight within, it did eventually arrive. The entire geological feature that it was. Portions are certainly not meagre, maybe a Mauritian thing, as the food amounts there at least, trouble the islands' floatation. I sampled the sauce first, the idea of a yoghurt and honey base seeming tantalising, but in execution. Not living up to my hopes and dreams of a breakfast sauce, being curiously bland. Straight for the goat's cheese and no qualms there, its splendid, and displayed in industrial amounts on the plate. I could have just subsisted on that but there were other components unfortunately, so onto the scallops. Which again, were rather inoffensive - beyond a slight taste of the char, there was not much suffused flavour. Perhaps a combination of everything would improve matters, it did, but only to a degree. The goat's cheese added its saltiness and acidic tang, which duly perked up the aubergine and scallops, but it was the sauce that continued to disappoint. It was slightly creamy, but beyond that, it did not provide the decadence I had expected. There was also a curious series of temperature anomalies on the plate, with the sauce being fresh from a nearby magma flow whereas the scallops were lukewarm, and the aubergines tepid. Odd. 

Not that it stopped me as the concoction was swiftly devoured. Saving the goat's cheese for last.

~ Mains ~

- La Croute de Pecheur

Much in repetition of the starters, the trawling of the menu on the restaurant website threw up a similar dilemma, of everything appearing largely the same, differing only in name. Again, in a denouncing of originality I went for what appealed. It was contained in a Puff-pastry. So it certainly appealed. Despite pastries being bad. On arrival, I was confronted by yet another gargantuan serving, offsetting the gravitational balance of the earth, or at least the imbalanced table would lead to believe. This dish was rather rudimentary in that it contained several types of fish, a shrimp, scallops, "contained" in a puff-pastry and all doused with a lobster sauce. 

So as per previously, I started with the sauce. Which again curiously, was almost devoid of taste, beyond slightly creamy. Which was really most disappointing, as it would have added a great deal of substance. I feared the fish would be as with the last dish, lacking a supporting base sauce to infuse flavour, and sadly it is what turned out again. Whilst the fish, solitary shrimp and scallop were all pleasant in their own right, they were just rather bland, tasting nothing more than of their essence, and even in that case, not overtly aromatically so. The puff-pastry was as would be expected, and in being a pastry, it was thus awesome. Also rather easily the most interesting part of the dish, absorbing what little flavour was in the sauce and making for a comforting bit as only a saturated pastry can. As such, the pastry was rather hurriedly also destroyed, choosing to leave some fish behind despite possibly being able to finish it. I did still have dessert to go. Though I was unsure at this point. For a lobster sauce, what was provided was completely devoid of the sweet and light aroma of what is expected of a rich lobster-based sauce; it was also curiously rather a pale yellow, rather than the usual light pink. Perhaps it was omitted, which is a shame, as without this foundation the fish portion of the dish were left with minimal chance to absorb or promote their flavour. 

~ Drinks ~

- Mauritian Twist

Initially denied the drink for some reason - I think waiters struggle to disguise their profound laziness when stating that a cocktail "is not available". Of course it isn't, it needs to be made - it was later provided. And whilst I had only seen the price at a glance, its arrival was slightly amusing. The cocktail was more fruit than drink, by a long shot - perhaps a sign of economising, but I prefer to be a realist. The way I see it, I got my dessert, as there was enough fruit there to count as one. Though back to actual reality, the drink was not worth the cost, beyond the obvious restricted provision of actual drink. Tasting no more than a lightly alcoholic coconut-flavoured rum with a hint of "bubble gum", I am not sure why I ordered it. 

At least the fruit would give me some sustenance in the perpetual wait for the starter. 

~~~~

Dinner was done, disappointments were had, and I was no clearer on the identity of Mauritian cuisine. For all its bare-boned simplicity of the restaurant, with its straightforward aesthetics and menus, it was an unfortunate cause that this trait should have passed on down to the food. Perhaps ingredients were economised, or perhaps not, but I was left generally unmoved by the dishes I had ordered. What promised to be rich, decadent swaddles of fish supported by a rich creamy base of a sauce, taking on its aroma, provided little of such, beyond some token creamy hints. The fish in the cases of each were also disappointingly anodyne, not offending, yet not inspiring either. This despite an overzealous patron at the table next door rather over-emphatically expressing his undying love of this restaurant to his partner. They were certainly also getting far more prompt service than I, perhaps due to the fact that they seemed to be ordering every one of the dishes coming out of the kitchen.

Disappointment was also to be had with the diversity of the menu, providing rather generic dishes to the exotic defining dishes I was somehow expecting of my Indian Ocean country of [half] provenance. Yet, I do not actually have a clue beyond the ubiquitous Indian/Chinese/French -influenced dishes that constitute to Mauritian cuisine. There was solace though, in the fact that the portions were beyond generous. They were intimidating. Yet despite that fact, and ignoring the inclusion of the goat's cheese in the first dish, the portions unfortunately did stop me from consuming them in their entirety. Wait, no dessert?! No, no dessert. Yet again I was met with a choice that did not inspire, with the usual list of "defaults" forming the availabilities, and with their "special" being a Creme Brulee. That is not special, and no dessert was to be had. Not here at least, and time was of the essence with the relaxed service and time ticking away from my backup plan. 

So I departed, unmoved, but satisfied by volume, if not by quality [or price - silly cocktail], and not enlightened on Mauritian cuisine. What I did achieve though was a decision. To go have dessert a couple doors down. You win some. 

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[Event - Sake Tasting] Enlightenment, through the Sake-os: IWC Sake Tasting at the Embassy of Japan, Piccadilly

Location - Piccadilly, London [UK]

After my life-altering introduction to Sake that occurred on the eve of my Quarter Century of "living" [ugh], the structure of my entire universe was irrevocably changed. Such was the crystallising clarity of realisation brought on by the interest in Sake and its diverse, profound and characterful culture, that it has gone so far to restructuring my daily routine. For now, the hours spent on a daily basis on my laptop, were predominantly spent attempting to demystify and broaden the spectrum of sake. I also purchased books. With my own money. BOOKS! Sake has achieved, officially, the unthinkable.

Such was my thirst for knowledge - and within reason Sake, but not too much, too many calories - that I had immediately sought to learn more, constantly, striving to create a path out of the bedlam of novicehood to attempt to give direction in this journey of Basmati Water Enlightenment. After the first sampling at the Sake Tasting event, I needed more, a notion only further bolstered by the bottle of sake ordered the following day on my birthday. Plans were hatched, a rough direction was set, with the internet providing my initial outlet for research, but it was not enough. Intentions were set to join the British Sake Association, as knowingly such an officially recognised outlet could bring with it its insight. I held off joining just for a while so that at least I could bring a friend to join in on the return from his holiday. He however, sneakily decided to join without letting me know, the fiend, pushing for the immediate signing up a day later - in his dastardly move though, a series of kerfuffles that have culminated in him not officially being signed up as of yet, serves him. The day of the signing up also brought along with it a visit to Hyper Japan, wherein I entrapped an employee of Hasegawa Saketen for a seeming eternity, attempting to draw out his life-force ever more knowledge. A pivotal moment.

More was sought - receiving the Membership documentation, I devoured all media in an instant, and yet I was not satisfied. eBooks were puchased and read, some rued as they contained basic information I had already grasped, some depicting quirks, intricacies and history that further drew me in. The defining book however was one by a Philip Harper, "The Book of Sake: A Connoisseur's Guide". A book written by the only foreign Master Brewer in any Japanese Sake Brewery. Suffice it to say, there was insight provided, but out of all this research, I was left curiously wanting. I suddenly became enthralled, feeling that a career in the industry was a sure-fire way to garner indepth knowledge and retribution in this desire for understanding, but surely there must be an easier, interim way. Despite the purchases, despite contacting key figures like the aural torture I submitted an employee at Hyper Japan to, and the infamous John Gauntner, the only foreign Sake Tasting Official in Japan, and despite the reams of information gleaned, one thing was lacking. Which was substantiated by the words depicted in every source. How can I further progress in my understanding of sake, with its simply oceanic possibilities, variances, possibilities? Practical experience. Yes, thank you. This obviously was a notion I had not considered, and whilst initially disappointed in such an obvious response, I figured there was method to this madness. Reading an article of John Gauntner's, he made a statement the created some clarity:

Accessibility is key when it comes to learning about sake. You can read about it until you're blue in the face, but if you can't access it and sample various types, there's not much point.

Despite my initial frustration, in creating research notes on factors affecting tastes of sakes, and approaches to take, trying a variety of extreme permutations was not going to achieve anything if I did not form a solid foundation of sake. This is why I got frustratingly little solace in the responses from the aforementioned when asking for specific directions and brews. Discovering sake is a path that is based, on preferences - certainly there are guidelines and common opinions on what can constitute to a superior example from a lesser one, but in the end, you have to base off of your own conceptions. And the very slight experiences of Umeshu sampled at the friends' house would be far too slow. So. To learn more, I had to drink more. Great. There's only 1700 or so brewers in Japan at the moment, and as much as I would like to play "Eenie Meanie Minie Mo" until time cedes to exist, I need a solution. Not event a conceited notion to try exclusively Sake's from the Japan Prestige Sake Association found much ground in my clueless quest, as primarily I could not find a list of the brewers. The Hasegawa employee also discredited them. As well as my clueless notion. Solace was found in the British Sake Association - £25 well spent. A Sake tasting event was to be held, and armed with my substantially greater understanding/still relatively null repertoire of sake, this would be a perfect opportunity to start in my quest to learn more. I also had around  8 Brewers to select from, and whilst I did not know it at the time, they would be from several diverse locations around Japan. Regionality, score.

So the date was set, the place booked, and the journey made. I should have gone prepared. I didn't. No particular reasoning, though perhaps the best way to affront a first occasion like this is completely blindly to afford my own opinions, rather than getting entrenched in the mellifluous Aramaic quips of an individual in the know. I largely confronted this event as well with a stark inability to distinguish nuances and subtleties in flavours. Obvious I can do, I can describe the obvious quite well. Which would not serve me well. I arrived a bit early but was pleasantly allowed in several minutes before the General Disarray Public would follow suit, and from there I was immediately thrust forth to a quiet stand, shortly after picking up the Breweries Spreadsheet and desperately trying to implement some sort of structure of method to the proceeding. Therein I met with a quietly spoken Japanese man, who spoke relatively fluent English - one of the only I would find. Little did I know at the time as well, but the man also happened to be the actual Owner of the Brewery. The namesake.

Saura Co. Ltd [Miyagi]

Commencing with the tasting, he duly supplied me with a measure of the first bottle, which I duly swirled, sniffed and sampled. Delightful aromas, and a very soft feeling in the mouth. That was about as much as I could infer from the sampling. Try as I might, I could not distinguish just what the aromas were, or what the taste was reminiscent of. This even after my tepid attempt at employing some of the rather particular sounding tasting techniques some of the more "serious" attendees were using, slurping and swishing. Nada. Trying the next glass I was met with a similar concoction, with slight differences in the strength of the aroma and flavour, but generally following a trend. What trend, I could not say. It was not obvious enough to me, despite asking rather precariously what I was supposed to be experiencing in the taste. The third of the samples was quite different in its nature, proving to be less aromatic and slightly more savoury, with a funkier earthiness. Other than that I was stumped as to what any of it meant. After discussing the status of his company after the Earthquake, having been located in vicinity of one of the affected areas, and expressing rather emphatically my passion for sake, I bid adieu and continued on. Though I will return, as I need to further my quest for understanding of sake, and I need to seek further solace through education and possible career opportunities. Maybe my complete lack of Japanese, money, and degrees will help.

I approached the table next door, which contained a collection of four sakes from the Tohoku region, in proximity of the Tsunami devastation zone, and surprisingly, like the company beforehand, there were names I recognised, including one of a brewery I was researching in the morning. 

Daishichi [Fukushima], Suehiro [Fukushima], Niizawa [Miyagi] & Tsukinowa [Iwate]

Much like previously, any noting of distinguishing flavours were null and void, and this despite the variety of display, which span through Ginjo, Honjozo, and even a Yamahai sake, which are known to be particularly distinctive. It was, this one being the Suehiro, but all I could infer was a "Caramel nose, slight umami". Great. Much was the same for the others, noting either a clean, short finish with not much aroma [Daishichi] to much the same but with a fuller body [Niizawa]. The Tsukinowa sake did offer a little differentiation - this is a brewery headed by a female Toji, and before blurting "the hell they know", it was rather clear the influence was in the sake. Not that my note revealed much, detecting a little spice and some rice and floral notes and not too much aroma. Essentially, useless blitherings. Whilst expressing the blankness of my mind on my face, I was also rather at a discomfort with the proliferation of the spittoons everywhere, and the gratuitous use of them. Despite my being on an empty stomach, I did not similarly indulge, I figure I should enjoy the sake as well. Which did not take long to have its effect. It was a bit unnerving, the nonchalant spitting, swishing and slurping, it felt more like being in a souk in Saudi than in a Japanese Embassy, but I suppose its a method, and to them, it may not be the madness it appears to me. I migrated my way, aimlessly, as the crowds steadily grew with the influx of the public at large. It soon became a chaos, which made the act of jotting down my rudimentary, usually one worded demented scribblings a rather more precarious act.

A stand then caught my eye, as it displayed a familiar name. Approaching, I was presented by the first of the "Koshu's" or aged sakes, and I was slightly eased - what minute semblance of experience I have, is with koshu, having bought the bottle of Katsuyama Genroku 5 year old Sake at Hyper Japan, and that was as bold as a bold thing, surely this would help drawing out some conclusions. Except it did not.

Fujii Shuzo Co. Ltd [Tottori]

Quite unlike my bottle of funky, bold Katsuyama, these koshus were rather delicate and subtle - damning in the face of a critic who claimed that ageing did nothing for sake, in this case not being able to counter him, and the rapidly jovial warmth of the sake slightly obfuscating my ability to make coherent thoughts possible. I could sense a slight caramel note on both - whether this was true, or insinuated from my own koshu, I am a bit uncertain. These were far more delicate, despite having been aged for 8-10 years longer than my one. The 1996 I quipped I could sense a slight yoghurt flavour, very little aroma, and a bit of mushrooms and cocoa on the tail? Obviously the sake was doing my writing, though it was as such still legible. Their non-koshu I noted as having a strawberry hint to the aroma. As well as being very soft. Something which I wrote for a large majority of my notes. As opposed to it being hard. Raff raff. Another familiarity at the stand was the woman pictured - Satomi Okubo, sommelier of Zuma - who gave an introductory Sake speech to the most inept crowd at Hyper Japan. Complete with Pokemon costumes. Shortly after the samplings, the proceedings were halted for the Ambassador's speech, whereby I found out the identity of the man I talked to at the beginning of the event. Once the barrel of sake was broken up, cordial wishes expressed, the chaos was resumed.

Trawling through my notes, I continued through the procession of stands, largely noting nothing of much relevance and persevering with my clueless parade. A face was recognised, some sakes were sampled, and I continued along, with the presence of the sake clouds of judgement slowly filling my empty cranium. In the midst of the sporadic chaos, I started to notice the presence of a few serves walking around with trays of assorted food items. I promptly lunged myself at them and gathered what I could, just to give something the sake to dissolve, other than my internals. I then continued. The chaos was in full effect now, with movement becoming rather laboured, and Brewery stands all but mobbed. Another face was recognised, and this time with it came hope. It was the director of the British Sake Association and Shirley surely she'd be of assistance. She was not though as she had other much more important junctures, and I was deposited at the foot of another stand after a quick talk, again left at the whims of my inability to, well at this point, remember my name.  

Dewazakura Sake Brewery Co. Ltd [Yamagata]

No surprises here - one sake had been finished, and the two I did manage to sample only gathered a note of middling acidity and a ricey note. I merely put an asterisk for the second one, not being able even to generate a single word to articulate what was going on in my mouth. Is sake really this subtle and a matter of minute nuances, or am I this incapable of comparison? No matter, all the more reason to entertain the training courses that had so enamoured me, the power they would instil me with once I actually knew how to define this elixir that had captivated me so. I did return however in an attempt to quantify the asterisk, as no amount of convincing made me believe it was a reasonable descriptive. So I noted a hint of strawberry to the nose, and of it being rather mellow. Profound observations. With time also being of the essence, I chased up the round of the remaining promoters, managing once again to be economical with my words. Not by choice. 

Shata Shuzo Co. Ltd [Ishikawa]

This stand had one of the familiar faces, a man whom had provided me with sake in the past and who I would hope would provide me with insight in this rather daunting event. However, he was struggling just to pour to the hoards of the invading general public, so I chose not to submit him to such a monumental task. What I could notice was the first of the samples of being savoury and full of body, with a tailing acidity. At least, what I believed was acidity. The second merely got a "soft" from me, every other character far too complicated for me to categorise, and the final one managing to squeeze in notes of a savoury note and of being well bodied from me. As well as being soft.

Kikuisami Co. Ltd [Yamagata]

Moving onwards, I crested another table, after embattling with the surrounding crowd for a prime spot. The words soft crept up in my note a further couple of times. The first sake however did draw up a few more words, a whole seven of them! I believe I noted a hint of strawberry to the nose, though, it is the only fruit I could pick to the nose out of all the sakes I had samples. I could also state the obvious and note the presence of alcohol, as well as what I interpreted as notes of watermelon on the palate, with an extended finish. The other two sakes merely garnered a soft impact and a soft nose, both followed by commas, in a vain attempt to expand with further scribbled sweet nothings. More food was spotted, I skedaddled. 

Ichishima Sake Brewery Inc [Niigata]

Continuing round to the last few tables, I came across the above table, with a foreign man distracting a couple of customers and allowing me to evaluate the selection. A term I use only in false hope. Not much was noted, a shame as the way I had read about it, the sake's of Niigata, when following the regional notions of defining characteristics, I believe broadly follow the "Karakuchi" school, which is to say being a very dry drink. All I could note were a mild sake with little aroma, another that took two tries to conclude it was slightly sweet, and the third receiving the definition of being middling in aroma.

Fukuchiyo Shuzo Co. Ltd [Saga]

This was one of the final Brewery tables I visited before Godzilla crashed the party I had culminated my round of all the available sakes. This one also garnered the laziest, or rather, most irrelevant of notes, comprising of two words in total. As well as an asterisk. I noted the first sake as being fruity, for which I congratulated myself, as it is a typical nature of Daiginjo sakes [or can be], and a sweetness for the final Honjozo. I could only define the Tokubetsu Junmai with an asterisk. With that however, the self-created pressure of taking notes and attempting to comprehend how to taste apparently, were now over and I could reflect on what transpired. Up until now, such were the subtleties, though much more importantly, the numbers of sakes sampled that I had no recollection as such of any that had really enamoured me. Thus almost defeating the purpose of this "trial by fire" exploration experiment. However, one such sake did just that. It earned an asterisk, by its number this time, and not as a description.

Tsuchiya Brewery Co. Ltd [Nagano]

Mind you, I cannot say why it was my favourite, but it remained distinctly such in my mind. Perhaps it was eminently drinkable [as opposed to being an impenetrable block], perhaps there was a defining note. I don't know, all I wrote was that with subtle aroma, a medium impact, and a short finish, it somehow captivated me. This was the Tsuchiya Akanesasu Tokubetsu Junmai. The new object of my immediate desire. I did manage to exclaim a "Subarashii" to the jovial lady, which I hope means "Splendid" - I did not get a katana to the gut so hopefully the message was delivered. I was however disappointed at the denial of their other examples, having finished before I arrived; not that it is a definitive factor, but who knows what those two higher grades of sake held in their regards, if only the Junmai had managed to slightly invigorate me in this haze. With the rather persistent announcer now making plenty clear that our presence was no longer appreciated, the event started to close down. Making the most of the limited time, I returned to Saura-san to thank him for his words and in an effort to get some last minute further progress and "career" advice, after waiting for a couple of free-loaders to gulp down their generous closing out servings. Now that I had the contact details of an actual Brewery owner at my whim, I had found yet another outlet for my obsessive quest. As well as a hopeful means for further enterprising, once I can find scope and reasoning for extortion. Bidding my adieus to the Director of the British Sake Association, I then departed, calling end to this most chaotic of tastings.

I left, just as confused as ever. It was not an entirely lost cause however - in all, I sampled 24 sakes, ranging in variety from all sorts of gradings, to a varying brewing techniques, and even to a couple of aged examples. Despite this veritable cornucopia of distinctive of characteristics abound, I was none the clearer on interpreting just what I was experiencing. Nada. Zilch. My vacant mind certainly partakes the majority of this occurrence, but yet again, the words of the people whose helped I had sought, and the research had done were ringing ever true. From the first tasting I had experienced, already four substantially different variants of sake were sampled, one of which even included a Kimoto brew, though at the point it was just another deliriously awesome sounding Japanese word with no meaning. Ever since, I had strived on achieving enlightenment through the experiencing of the diverse and bespoke drinks, seeking to buy an Genmaishu "unpolished rice" Sake, purchasing an aged sake, and predominantly subsisting on delicious umeshus. In doing so however, I was not building a grounding of the staple drinks. I was not building a standard from which to compare with - this point became especially clear in reading another of John Gauntners' pieces where he states something along the lines of aged, nama- and other sakes as being nice on occasions, but distractions from the core drink, or something to that effect.

And despite my compulsive need to explore, heading in random directions with no real sense of continuity, perhaps they are right. Well. Of course they are right, the preceding sentence more than amply clarifies my lack of a clue. So whilst my heroically abysmal efforts at articulating the nuances and characteristics of the 24  served to achieve little beyond some gratuitous doodling, I did come away from the event, encouraged. And slightly tipsy. This experience, however informal and unstructured as it was, has taught me that sake, is particularly a drink of subtleties, and from these subtleties the true joy of drinking them is drawn. Such subtleties take dexterity to note, yet alone describe, yet that is perhaps one of the pleasures. Whilst the niche and eclectic variations abound may appeal in their respects, at this stage of being a fledgling appreciator, they can only serve to be as distractions. Distractions which only serve to add to the plethora of subtleties and characteristics of the core drink, and hence obscuring a means of comparison. So I intend to keep tasting, though with altered prioritisation towards the original drinks. Build myself up a repertoire and an understanding. Which I intend to do so in just twelve days, on the attendance of a second Tasting, again at the Embassy of Japan. It is a tough life.

In a bid to not remain utterly dumbstruck by a lack of any worthwhile cerebral activity when sampling the drinks, I will also aim to use some flavour charts from the likes of John Gauntner and co, which should at least breakdown the myriad hints and intricacies into more manageable categories. That is all I have so far, though with the presence of the Hasegawa Saketen employee that I imprisoned at this event, I may also resort to a second assaulting. A pleasant event by all accounts, opening my eyes to an ever grander range of sakes and its constitution, and whilst not completely enlightened, at least ever more driven. I was also rather surprised with the variety of people in attendance, from the connoisseurs to the beginners, and even to those that had nary a clue, to the ones that just enjoy alcohol, a truly eclectic range. Much like the sake. The evening had yet to cease though - despite the assorted miniscule shrimp cocktail, Chicken Kara-age, Sushi Roll and other miscellanea I had devoured, striking fear in the eyes of the serves, I still had to provide something to the bounty of sake to devour. Onto dinnar!

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[Restaurant/Event - Cheese Tasting] Death by Chocolate. And Dessert. And More Desserts; Cheese & Dessert Tasting at La Fromagerie of Marylebone

Location - Marylebone, London [UK]

Culture be damned, this was not about culture, this transcends that. It's motive was indulgence. Pure, delicious indulgence. With a thinly veiled excuse of garnering knowledge and the aforementioned culture fooling nobody. Beyond myself perhaps. What am I half-heartedly huffing and puffing about this time? The reasoning behind the nth tasting event I voraciously seized opportunity of. In a bid for the continuation of recent bouts of deeply-seated guilt ridden gorgings before the lull of a couple weeks, which will then lead into further bouts of...deeply-seated guilt ridden gorgings, I attended my first Cheese Tasting event. I don't need any formative reason - there's cheese, and more cheese. There is also dessert. Multiple desserts. If there is a detractor to be found, it is not here.

And what an apt establishment for my first cheese tasting, its name generally consolidating its speciality. I had actually been meaning to go to a La Fromagerie event for a while now, and to a cheese tasting far before that, and whilst the timing and occasion was essentially on an impulse basis rather than any specific reason, the attendance was by no means a random quest. I shall explain. I have in all my life, always been an avid appreciator of the cheese in many of its forms, guises and quirks. Perhaps it is because I am part Italian, and thus part made of cheese, but suffice it to say, I have been imbued with a passion for cheese since birth. As I grew up, so did further experiences comes with cheese, with the ubiquitous selections sampled in Italy as part of meals, and even visits to artisanal producers serving to stoke an ever broadening repertoire. In Italy, as well as several other countries, cheese is almost a defining identity of its culture, much like its wines, its rich history and such, and no more is this clearer in the pride taken in the producing, and enjoyment of its crafts. Progressing in the years, so did my preferences, and receptiveness to cheeses, diverging into stronger flavours, and understanding a bit more. 

A crux was reached however in 2008, a particularly event in which dining at a Wine Bar in Sorrento for a family friends' casual pre-wedding dine-out, where a cheese platter was sampled. Now, I've had sample plates many times, i.e. with any meal in Italy, however this was immediately different in its scope by providing a grand selection. None of which I knew. Going through them though I was simply romanced by the delectable samples, and the sheer variety - goat, sheep, blues and so on. This experience was perhaps one of the few that started on my more receptive approach to much in life, though predominantly in food, and as such, has created appreciation where there was once hate. For example, only in the last few months, whereas I used to vehemently despise even the notion of blue cheese, I am now a lovestruck fool for them. What I have never done however is attempt to find depth behind what I was tasting, what varieties there were, just what was possible. An important by-product of this want to explore, was to also help clarify selections for the weekly indulgences of cheese I entertain with a friend, leaving us always slightly guilty, as I pick up crumbs of cheese from the floor, but ever satisfied. Know thy enemy, and also help to select new ones. So that is where La Fromagerie came in. Essentially, looking for "Cheese tasting", chord struck, event booked. 

This first of events was slightly different in scope in that it celebrated the release of David Lebovitz' book, and hence concentrated on several of his dessert dishes. I'm not complaining. 

Thus I arrived, made a bee-line for a room known as "heaven", shortly after which the event began.

~ Starters - Canapes ~

- Radishes with Seasalt & Anchoiade

The evening started out with a series of Canapes, the first of which comprised of this rather too healthy looking mound of radishes with a dip of anchoiade and sea salt. I did not quite see the purpose of the sea salt as the anchoiade was certainly salty enough, but as David Lebovitz would mention later, apparently salt is "in vogue" now. Right. So, firstly trying a radish on its own just to set a base, I was met with..not much, rather devoid of any taste. Dipping into the anchoiade however, and thankfully, that was rather quite pleasant. A deeply savoury, delicate dip, exquisitely creamy yet somehow was not obvious in its being made of ground anchovies. If anything it had a faint hint of oil-jarred mushrooms. Really was delectable, if a bit salty, though the relative blandness of the radish helped to offset that to an extent. Was rather annoying however as a collection of radish sprout "hats" had accumulated in my back pocket.

- Gougeres

Trying to stave off of the gougeres in all of my lacking-manhood in an attempt to not "overdo" the pastries before the main meals, these were rather special. I am surprised they were not floating off of the plate, as they almost tasted of air - they were exceedingly light. Really such a delicate little pastry, with a faint hint of cheese permeating through, which tied in rather nicely with the rather more prominent egg taste. Infact, the gougeres essentially tasted like miniature omelette pockets. This is not to discredit them, as omelette is awesome, and the flavour just contradicted what I thought they would taste like, and what they were composed of. 

- Aubergine Caviar

A particular morsel I have been meaning to sample for a while now, having seen it explode onto menus everywhere, and not quite comprehending the reasoning of it earning the "caviar" title to its name. Google did not help either, as last I remember, caviar was not a mush. Served on a petite rush slice, and overhearing a waitress stating its close relationship to Baba Ghanoush, the connection was made. Not to the naming, that still perplexes me, but now I know that it is just a less foreign entitling of a Baba Ghanoush, or Moutabbal. At once, Saudi Arabia was brought up to mind - a rather delightful, yet not overpowering hint of smokiness combined with the sweetness of the aubergine, in a creamy paste. Not overly salty, a slight pleasing tartness and the hint of bread of the aubergine were very subtle, the crunch of the rusk slice adding some satisfying crunch. 

- Pissaladiere

Pilfering a bite before the tray was brought out to the masses, the Pissaladiere is usually described as a sort of French "pizza" -style pastry in its nature. I don't see it, being that it was based on a flaky pastry, but it was absolutely exquisite. Despite the rather generous amount of sardine or anchovy fillets on display on each square, the result was anything but salty. The predominance was of a warm buttery infusion, the soft pastry really being quite decadently so. This worked in harmony with the profound sweetness of the tomatoes, with the herbs serving to make the little bites slightly reminiscent of pizza, if only in the similarity of the herb and tomato amalgamation, with the buttery notes of the pastry throwing that notion slightly off. It was particularly delectable, the anchovy/sardine did not even figure, perhaps adding a slight salty hint, but generally the sweetness drew up comparison to a quiche or a tart. I had to walk away several times. 

~ Main Course ~

- Salad Lyonnaise

Sitting down for the main part of the tasting event, I was rather startled/endeared by the seeming complete lack of savoury dishes, the salad seemingly the only token example of such. I cannot complain really, other than hoping it would be substantial enough. I need not have worried, as the veritable mountain in the picture ably demonstrates. A generous serving of green beans and and frisee on top of several new potatoes and a scattering of lardons and what I initially thought was smoked salmon, culminating with a rather larger boiled egg on top. As far as salads go, this was rather subtly amazing. Avoiding the potatoes, naturally, in all their loathsome starchiness [the hips, jeebus], the beans were quite nicely sweet, being afforded a richness and some body when combined with the boiled egg. The lardons worked particularly well, not being overtly salty, and when combined with the egg, served to remind of breakfast. And breakfast is awesome any time of the day. The highlight though was the "smoked salmon". Or Foie Gras. The slithers of slightly salty, greasiness just dragged the salad up from the ordinary, imbuing further substance into the salad, with what I presumed as well, a slight smoky hint to add interest.

With the token amount of health out of the way, made all the more decadent by generous helpings of grilled pig belly bits and fattened goose liver, I was thus prepared for the main meals. Which is to say a course of desserts. Followed by dessert. After which, coffee. With some dessert ^_^

~ Desserts ~

- Ossau and Zelu Koloria Cheeses with Fig Jam & Oat Crackers

Finally, I would arrive to the crux of the location, the zenith of its purpose, its namesake, and I rather emphatically wanted to be floored. Then two tiny fingers of cheese and a couple of measly squares of rye biscuits and a dot of jam arrived.

Bah.

Nevertheless, I would have to content myself with the diabetes fix I would receive with the remaining dishes. The cheese however, was divine. This despite not being in the barrel-sized quantities I had desired. The Zelu Koloria was the first one I tried, naturally, as it was a blue cheese. At once, I was disarmed by its creamy texture and relative sweetness, with none of the overpowering saltiness of some blue cheeses. The blue veins were particular in that they were not "spicy" at all, rather they added some savouriness to the palate - it was all rather delicate, especially so for a blue cheese. There was almost a herb quality, like a faint parsley note, it was addictive. The Ossau was rather enticing as well - it was reminiscent of a parmesan, but with a softer texture, and a soft buttery hint throughout. Not as interesting as the blue cheese but still moreish. Both cheeses worked quite well with the rye cakes, and the Zelu Koloria especially so with the fig jam, which served to highlight the savoury notes of the blue.

However, the matching of the wine was, heck, fabulous. Again, especially so with the blue cheese - its slight sweetness not overwhelming the cheeses, but rather softly cutting through with its acidity, leaving the gently savoury notes of the blue cheese to shine through, whilst highlighting the subtle nuttiness of the Ossau.

- Ricotta Cheesecake made with Orange & Aniseed
- Champagne Gelee with Summer Fruits

- Peach Amaretti Crisp

- Chocolate Orbit Cake

Listed clockwise, obviously, a small plate of David Lebovitz' wares - or rather what was made by La Fromagerie according to his recipes, were demonstrated, observed, and looking frankly delicious. I started with the champagne gelee, as I figured it being a jelly and of a champagne persuasion, I would thus like it the least. It was however, surprising. It did not pummel my face with a champagne blow, but rather suffused it delicately in a rather elegant gelatine. The two fruits included were more decorative than anything, as summer does not exist in this country, and were rather sour, their tartness not adding much other than, tartness. Moving on, the ricotta cheesecake differed rightly so to the typical style of cheesecake in using ricotta cheese, which lends a grainier, crumblier type of texture, much as by dint of the cake being baked as well. Not unpleasant but I was perhaps hoping to experience the delightful milky notes of the ricotta, but what was experienced was orange. A lot of orange. Almost overwhelmingly so, but not displeasing, adding as such a freshness and lightness to the cheesecake. I did not sense any aniseed however, perhaps a blessing as I loathe it and its mother, but perhaps a shame as it may have broken up the citrus narrow-mindedness of the cake.

The chocolate cake was sampled next, and, Jeebus. This was absolutely divine. Every spoonful brought on deception - a decadently rich chocolate, not overtly sweet, dark but not bitter, with just a hint of a burnt note, which just lingered on. And on. And further more. It was the taste that would never end, and frankly, I did not want it too. Despite a rather generous slice of the cake, this did not get tiring at all, as somehow its restrained yet gloriously rich character just created a yearning for more. One diner quipped that it was too "chocolately", though, I presume they were British and would complain about water being too "wet". Almost heartbroken at the demise of the cake, I finished off with the Peach Amaretti crisp, which in essence was a crispier Peach crumble, and did not offer any more surprises than such. A light peach note perhaps, with not much of the almond flavouring of the amaretti permeating through, but, pleasant nonetheless. The sugar influx was obviously doing my talking at this point.

The supplied Moscato wine also worked rather well with the variety of desserts, especially with the orbit cake strangely, not being drowned out by the tsunami of creamy chocolate, and suffusing its light yet distinct flavour through. This however, was not yet the end the end of desserts. Word.

- Blackberry Brown Butter Financiers

- Almond Ding

Despite having just essentially turned myself into a Gingerbread man with the glucose infusion of this particular dinner, there was still more. I am never going to say no to more dessert, nevar! These were to be served with Coffee & Tea, so, a Obese Fours then, as they were certainly not petite. The Almond Ding [che?] were made by David himself in a "demonstration" at the beginning of the evening - it was in essence an almond brittle. It was also rather fabulous, being rather buttery yet not too richly so, and oddly, having more than a hint of popcorn. Alas, I could not further savour the Ding as they were rather abhorrently devoured by a Canadian man, but I took solace in the Financiers.

Completely misguided by my notion of what a financier was, these cupcakes, were, amazing. It would seem that butter was a running theme of the evening, as yet again, it also defined this cupcake. A buttery note was supported by a nicely moist cake, and rather dry-breeze blackberries, with a gentle sweetness that managed to preserve the attachment of my limbs. Despite the rich note, it was not cloying or heavy handed, with the crumbliness of the cupcake lightening up the texture. It also did its job for adding sweetness and excitement to the blasphemy that was the coffee. The less said about the filter coffee, the better. The heathens. 

~ Drinks ~

- Vin d'Orange

Starting the evening with this rather peculiar cocktail it was composed, amongst other things, of wine, orange, and..vinegar?! Yes, vinegar. It was also, delightful. Not really tasting of any of the mentioned proponents, it was a mildly sweet and very orange-laden drink, with a slight bitter note. Despite the inclusion of vodka, I also found it to be rather light, though the quickly warming body signified otherwise. It was not unlike a slightly sweeter and  less bold Campari, being effortlessly and tireless to drink. So I had two. 

- Prosecco

Breaking up the two first drinks on an empty stomach, I was offered this prosecco. No idea what it was, but it was rather delicate and light-hearted about it. Ever so slightly sweet, with a light effervescence, it was rather demure but in such rather quietly pleasing. So I then returned to the Vin d'Orange after this quiet delight with its more outlandish levels of awesome. 

- Chateau le Roc: Cotes de Frontonnais Red Wine

A moderate glass of wine, chosen primarily on the basis that the stronger acidity of a red wine would perhaps work better with the foie gras and lardons of the salad. Yes, the wine was chosen for a salad, as this dinner would not compose of the de rigeur savoury courses, not that you will hear me complaining. Well, until I shed a leg or some other limb. From what I remember, it was a medium bodied wine, not overtly dry or astringent, and a slight spicy note. It was not terribly bold, yet not bland either, but rather it was very much gentle natured. It did break up the saltiness of the salad to a nice degree as well. 

- Jurancon Costat Darrer': Camin Larredya Dessert Wine

Cannot recall too much about this wine, other than it was lightly sweet, delicately so, and rather light in body. It was slightly fruity, but not exceedingly so, and it worked amazingly with the provided cheeses. Especially with the Zelu Koloria, the moderate sweetness tied in with the cheese's creamy texture and slight sweetness, with the blue veins being highlighted with the wine. 

- Solatio: Moscato D'Asti Dessert wine

A rather splendid Moscato, noticeable mostly for its lightness of character. Not overly sweet like some moscato wines can be, and not too aggressively effervescent either. The distinct muscat note was present, but it was fresh, and light, with a slight floral note as well. The moscato worked well with the desserts, in particular with the Chocolate cake of destiny, freshening the everlasting torrent of chocolate with the delicate muscat infusion. 

- Le Piantagioni Filter Coffee

The title says more than I need to. Coffee-ish flavoured water.

~~~~

In an effort to break out of the grasp of the moreish Financiers left on the table, and not wishing to engage in small talk with strangers, the event had thus culminated. With disappointingly little cheese, but in retribution, a monumental number of delectable treats. This was in general a delightful experience, if not one wrought in enlightenment. This could be most probably attenuated to the fact that the scope of the evening had diversified slightly from the usual Cheese Tasting in the promotion of David Lebovitz' new book, who I had only vaguely heard about, likewise his Chez Panisse employment. Not to rue this though, as despite only the salads' presence being the only moderately health-oriented dish to the remaining coronary attacks in waiting, particular as this dinner was, it was also all rather elegantly prepared, flavoured, and devoured. Starting with the delightfully light and endearing apertif drinks to the..delightfully light and endearing canapes and on to the remaining dishes. Which were also rather subtly pleasing in their own right. If anything, that was the recurrent theme of the evening - most facets in execution were endearing and delightful in their light-heartedness.

The tasting was far from a formal event, taking in more of a social aura, with people of all sorts of backgrounds and motives attending - my table for example comprising half of media stooges involved in this David Lebovitz' book release, and the others just casually there. Then me, the cheesephile. From the intriguing Vin d'Orange to the light yet exquisite canapes, from the slightly decadent salad to the plethora of sublime desserts, and the supporting act of the well chosen drinks. Not to forget the delicate yet exquisite cheeses as well. No attention to be brought to the coffee. The event as a result, was more of a taster of a tasting evening, with not much in general much being learnt, not that much rigour was expected of the experience anyway. This can only mean that further events will serve to continue my desire to explore this world of cheese, amongst the many others. Starting from the end of this month.