Kings Cross With A Wok

I found myself wandering around the back streets near Kings Cross a little unnerved. In the stifling heat of the evening, I felt like a sitting target, "What's in the bag pal?" some boss eyed scouser hocked. I was not going to tell him I had a copy of Jo Pratt's latest book, In The Mood For Entertaining in there. I doubt he would have wanted it, if indeed he could even read, but I thought it best to something that made me sound tough, like boxing gloves, or better yet, ignore him and keep on walking. "'Ere mate, don' be likgh tha', come backgh". My pace quickened as I could see the entrance to the train station at the top of the road. They had armed me with a weapon of sorts, so as to give me a sporting chance, a wok which I was beginning to wish wasn't jammed in the bottom of the aforementioned bag. As I turned into the station I looked round to notice the unsavory gentleman from Liverpool had found someone else to bother, I believe it was a pound he was after, or perhaps a cigarette, either way his manners were appalling.

Tilda were the ones who had armed me with the wok, along with some samples of their new stir fry rice. A straight to wok product already seasoned and flavoured in four styles. I had been fed and handsomely watered with prosseco, which may or may not have added to my slightly paranoid state in the Kings Cross area that fateful Wednesday evening. Inside a beautiful Georgian townhouse at the cookery school, Food at 52, ten of us had been given a demonstration of recipes by the graceful Jo Pratt who has such a calming presence in a kitchen. Well I was calm until we were told it was our turn to cook. We paired up and set about the woks, I teamed with Mimi and in between reciting Flight of the Conchords songs we managed to pull together a fiery prawn and chilli dish with the Thai red rice. I did spend most of the time trying to get the lid off a bottle of rice wine, but thanks to Mimi, and a shared love for chilli, we had a fantastic plate of food. There were some really interesting dishes made using the new rice and the one that I recall in particular was a lamb stir fry where the lamb had been briefly marinated in sweet chilli sauce and soy I think, correct me if I am wrong. Over dinner, sat in the cute courtyard, we joked around, laughed a bit and drank ginger cordial, how very Enid Blyton.

Thanks to Food at 52, Tilda, Wildcard , Jo Pratt and all the lovely people who I shared the evening with.

Mimi is also hosting a Burmese pop-up at Matt Follas' Wild Garlic in Beaminster, Dorset on 1st October. Book now on 01308 861446. It will be a fantastic night I am sure.

Blokes Eat Beef

John Cadieux - Goodmans

With an average of 1.5kg of beef per person, Blokes Eat Beef was always going to have to be addressed on a thoroughly empty stomach. A few of us met for cocktails at HIX for pre-dinner drinks. Note to self - not for the thin-walleted drink enthusiast. After introductions, some stimulating conversation and two fantastic Plymouth Martini's, I suddenly became far more wide-eyed in fascination with the world of cocktails. Simon has an infectious excitement in his voice when talking about cocktails and the history that encapsulates them and I found myself taking mental notes of the fascinating facts to bring up at a later date. I live in Bournemouth where I find most things quite modestly priced but London quickly kicked me awake when the kind barman handed over my bill for £28! I think cocktails could be an area I may have to dip into sparingly at the moment.

We wandered over to Goodmans for 7pm to be ushered into a large private dining room where Chardonnay and Rose was offered to the congregating males. Rose and Chardonnay doesn't sound too blokey though does it, looking back at the thought of it has me conjouring up images in my mind of dainty men with man-bags and chinking their glasses of white wine. But let me intervene right there and state that it was a room where you could smell the testosterone in the air. The cavemanesque look in the men's eyes were of blood and dead cows. Does that sound more fitting? I sat myself down between Foodurchin and Essexeating and tried to calm the nerves in my already butterfly-filled stomach. Frank Hederman had flown in with some of his acclaimed smoked salmon and prior to our not one, but two starters he gave a talk on his processes to the macho mob of hungry listeners. The smoked salmon was the best I have ever tasted. Thick and silky, Frank Hederman smokes the salmon with beech wood chips rather than oak which makes for a much smoother smokiness without being too overpowering.

John Cadieux also took to the centre stage as did David Strauss who captivated their audience between courses explaining the lives the breeds of cow live before they are led to slaughter. Trays of the beef were brought into the room for us all to stare at, which made me feel like I was in the Flintstones due to the sheer volume and size of the cuts. A plate of Belted Galloway was passed around the room for us to smell. "It smells like a corpse." was probably the quote of the evening and what is more disturbing though is the fact we all loved the aroma from the offending meat relishing in it's fragrance. The delivering of beef was continuous all charred beautifully from the charcoal grill downstairs. I struggled to keep up with exactly which meat I was being fed partly due to the wine and it's affect on my body and partly due to the animalistic instinct taking over as I gorged on the slices of steak and gnawed on bones. The sides of creamed spinach, thick cut chips, mushrooms and béarnaise sauce could almost have been described as a distraction to the main event but creamed spinach and béarnaise are hands down my favourite accompaniment to smear over steak.

The whole time our glasses were filled, topped up and replaced continuously with a fantastic Argentinian Malbec by Catena. Some seriously pongy Stinking Bishop featured on the cheeseboard before our table took our turn at being shown the bounties of the meat room and the charcoal grill downstairs in the kitchen. I had a fantastic evening, thank you to everyone, especially Simon, for organising such a great night. The wine got the better of me which resulted in a brief rest of my eyes whilst my digestive system screamed for more blood to cope with breaking down so much meat. As I wandered off into the night pleasantly pissed, my coat saturated in the stench of smoked salmon and meat, I felt a little like Champagne Charlie as I made my way home at least 1.5kg heavier.

Arbutus, Soho

There have been mixed reviews of Arbutus over the past few years, so on a cold mid December afternoon my wife and I went for lunch to make our own minds up. We arrived prompt for two o'clock only to wait nearly ten minutes nestled next to the display cabinet of cheeses. We were brought menus and a carafe of water which was perched precariously in the small space at the end of the bar. Being handed my menu before I've sat down is something I would associate more with a chinese takeaway than an acclaimed restaurant with a michelin star. Once we were seated we were brought the trademark chunk of butter on a slate tile and a selection of fresh bread. From here on in the service was astounding.
The wife ordered the slow cooked rib of beef, potato gnocchi and greens whilst I wanted to taste the dishes I'd read so much about. I ordered the squid and mackerel 'burger' with parsley and razorclams to start and the braised pig's head, potato puree with ravioli of caramelised onions for my main. My starter arrived and lacked a little in presentation seeming rather sloppily plated. The marriage of the squid and mackerel was beautiful, a great combination accentuated by the more robust texture of razor clams. The parsley juice was a little underwhelming and went almost unnoticed, just seemed rather pointless alongside the rest of the dish.


The mains arrived and the first one I tried was the wife's. The beef was tremendously tender and just fell apart when tackled with the side of a fork, leaving pinkish strands of meat collapsing across the plate. Gorgeous. The greens perked up with a healthy hit of parmessan was a lovely contrast alongside the gnocchi and what I think was a salsa verde smeared across the top of the beef. I only tasted a few bites but the wife did say that all together as a dish she felt that the flavours were competing against one another.


The pig's head was plated much more carefully than the squid and mackerel burger and the combination of flavours was pleasant. In particular the french andouille sausage which was used as the package to contain the caramelised onions. The sausage adds those extra offally tastes that run alongside the pork so well and make this dish shine. If you posses a weak constitution, or have not yet discovered a penchant for offal then you may not appreciate the power of the french andouille sausage, for those of you, be warned. A very lovely dish.


The service, after the initial wait by the cheese, was flawless. The timing of the arrival of dishes, the clearing of the table and the pouring of wine were what you would expect from a restaurant with a michelin star and rightly so. I was told, upon checking by telephone, that the dress code was, "whatever you feel most comfortable in." Exactly what I want to hear in this day and age. I remember having to suit up to eat at Le Bernardin and, whilst I don't mind being respectful and certainly not so when eating at such establishments, I find it much more convenient to be made welcome and relaxed in my usual jeans and t-shirt attire. Not all of us work in the city, donning collar and tie everyday. Arbutus covered this admirably which made for a very relaxed lunch.

It does seem a little cramped inside by loosing just one table and sharing the gained room would do wonders to the place. We both really enjoyed Arbutus and our lunch including a carafe of malbec and 12.5% service charge was just £49.50.
I will go again and I would recommend it to anyone. Not the atmosphere some might have preconceptions of when thinking of michelin starred restaurants. Arbutus has a very relaxed and comfortable air about the place and the menu is reasonably priced too.
The squid and mackerel burger and the braised pig's head are probably considered Anthony Demetre's signature dishes. Could either of them become as revered as Pierre Koffman's pig trotters, Marco Pierre White's taglietelle of oysters or Fergus Henderson's bone marrow and parsley salad? I'm not sure. What do you think?

The Gun, Docklands

I've been crazy busy this last week and after working nights in Cardiff for a few days fitting carpet tiles in a call center, I came home and drove my wife and sister up to The O2 arena for them to go see Beyonce. Rather than pay £25 for the parking and have nothing to do but pay for overpriced coffees and internet I opted for a drive through the tunnel and into Canary Wharf and to a pub overlooking the Thames called The Gun. The Pub has been there for nearly 250 years and was a local meeting place for Lord Nelson before he died at the battle of Trafalgar. I managed to park right outside on the cobbled streets and for free too, I grabbed my rucksack with my computer hoping to do some work over a pint. The Gun is a very masculine old pub and I don't mean I had to step over fighting men on the way to the toilet but that it just has a rugged and warm feel to the place despite the high winds and chill of Autumn. I got a pint of Pride in and took a table bar-side right next to the log fire. Sadly the internet wasn't working and after lots of attempts the manager came over and told me that she uses a mac too and that she can never seem to get online using the pubs router, was a shame but I was impressed that the manager herself had come by to tell the scruffy, bearded twentysomething in a t-shirt that she apologised for the inconvenience. I wasn't planning on having anything to eat but the menu was stooped in game. I was still full from my lamb and roast potato lunch round mums but I knew I could fit in a cheeky salad, especially if it involved pigeon. I also noted the footnote to the menu which said all game may contain shot, which In my mind only added to the romanticism of this old rugged pub by the docks. I settled for the 'Salad of warm pigeon, spiced pear, parsnip crisps and hazelnuts,'
I asked for it bar-side and the waiter came and laid out my cutlery and brought me a selection of warm breads. My salad arrived and sat on the plate very well. The pigeon breasts were cooked perfectly, just seared but still warm to the middle, It came in a hazelnut oil and red onion dressing and the slices of poached spiced pear complimented the depth of the pigeon successfully. For my salad and a pint of London Pride the bill was only £10.20 plus tip, not even half the price for the O2 car parking. I left and tried to make my way to St. John Bread and Wine for a drink and maybe a starter or something small to eat, however forgetting it was Sunday and St. John having more traditional opening hours it was twenty past ten by the time I arrived and was closing. Next time I guess. After a little cruise around the city I doubled back to the O2 and sat down by the water to read and have some coffee before I drove home with two very excitable girls.