Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts

Saturday, 23 October 2010

Blanc-ity Blanc: A taste of Le Manoir aux Quat'Saison

Sometimes my job takes me to some pretty nice places. I'm not going to go on about it, so I'll just leave you with the photos of a trip to heaven and back, to Raymond Blanc's famous Le Manoir. If I die this is where I want to go... As we swept through the gate in my old Clio, me a bit hungover clutching an empty coffee cup and ham and cheese panini wrapper from the service station (it revived me), everything else melted away. It was like we were entering a different world where everything moved just a little more leisurely, everyone was just a little more polite and everything was just a little more perfect. The grass, the house, the staff; all had that soft, understated yet exclusive cashmere finish. And as soon as I stepped blinking out of the car (mid-tweeting), was greeted, handed over my car keys and whisked straight to our room (that's right no check-in) it was like I was being wrapped up in the softest, warmest, most fragrant cashmere blanket. And I never wanted to come out of this cocoon.

A sweet introduction....

And to kick off the main event: Garden beetroot terrine, dill cream and horseradish sauce (served with Pouilly-Fuisse Clos Varambon 2007 Chateau des Rontets) Fresh, light and palette clensing to set the scene.


Risotto of wild mushrooms, mascarpone, truffle cream. I must be dreaming, Rich, flavours on amplified, smooth, this is what heaven tastes like...


Braised fillet of wild gill-netted brill, cornish assured oyster, cucumber and wasabi beurre blanc (served with Riesling 2008 Domaine Trimbach). A hint of Asia wooshed through this dish with the wasabi bringing out the fresh flavours.


Roasted breast and confit of Goosnargh duck, turnip gratin, yuzu curd; jasmine tea and ginger sauce - continuing the Asian theme. Although I have to admit that I had trouble concentrating on this dish as the man himself had joined our journo table for a chat and was sitting right next to me. Oh why, oh why had I not cribbed up on his biography first... maybe I would have asked some sensible questions then.


Coeur de Guanaja chocolate gelee, star anis and pear sorbet. I have to admit I wasn't the hugest fan of this it tasted like watered down chocolate and the flavour of the sorbet was just lost in the wash-out. Sorry Raym..


But the dessert wine (Muscat de Lunel 2007 Cuvee Vieilles Vignes, Clos Bellevue) and make you melt petit fours more than made up for it. As well as grilling the editor of Restaurant magazine on his favourite restaurants... it was (unsurprisingly after their top 100 restaurants were announced) The Ledbury. Another reason to get myself there. So I went to bed to dream of food.

Althought there was still room the next morning for more. Oh it was a breakfast-buffet lovers dream. Cheese... Meats... Breads... Fruits... all of about ten varieties with little chalked on mini slate pieces name tags. I could have stayed all morning.




But there was just enough time to walk off breakfast and the food in the almost as famous gardens. My favourite: the Japanese tea garden.


And one hell of a vegetable patch...


Goodbye Le Manoir... Goodbye Raym. Thanks for the taste of the good life.

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

Eat, pray... nah, stuff that, just EAT: Bali

In my travelling tummy experience often the best meal you’ll eat in a country is the simplest. Goo-y creamy mozzerella and you-can-still-taste-the-green-of-the-vine tomatoes in Rome, a bowl of steaming fresh mussels in white wine and skinny just-crisp-enough frites in Bruges, a so buttery-it’s-almost-melting warm croissant fresh from the boulangerie in Paris (not forgetting the Malboro Red on the side – there’s a reason why those French women are so skinny). Well, in Bali it was noodles, fried noodles. I was obsessed.

My new obsession ‘mie goreng’ literally means ‘fried noodles’- that’s it. Although, like its closely related counterpart ‘nasi goreng’ aka, you guessed it, ‘fried rice’, it was rather more than that. My Lonely Planet Bali and Lombok described it as ‘fried noodles with mixed goodies’ but like all the best recipes it depends on the chef. At the core is noodles fried in a piping hot wok with vegetables and a sweet soy spicy sauce, some warungs (roadside food stall-cum-restaurant) would add a fried egg or omelette on top and a variety of crackers – prawn, peanut, vegetable – on the side. Sometimes it’d be with pork, sometimes with chicken, sometimes just plain and simple but always great, and even better, less than £2. I’m sure there is usually shit-loads of MSG in it... uhum, sorry yes we’re calling it umami now. But who cares I was hooked.


We arrived in Bali at night after a long, long, long flight, thrust blinking into the humid darkness and then the bustle of the airport immigration hall. There was a small smiling Balinese man holding a sign with my and Choux Boy’s names, confused looking queues for visas and huge signs about the death penalty for drug dealers everywhere. Not that that was really an issue... I was there ‘officially’ to review some hotels and write about Eat, Pray, Love; unofficially, as always, I was there to eat, eat, eat.

First stop: Jimbaran Bay in South Bali and fortunately, given we hadn’t seen a bed in over 24 hours, only 15 minutes from the airport. Jimbaran Bay, I’d cribbed up from the Lonely Planet, which came to be known as ‘the bible’, is famous with locals and tourists alike for its string of seafood warungs that run the length of its golden arc. From lunchtime you can smell the smoky, salty smell of barbequing fish hauled from the colourful wooden fishing boats that dot the sea if you are up early enough to the ramshackle fish market at the north end of the bay. After sunset the tables stretch down the sand to replace the lapping waves as the tide retreats and candles ripple through the smoke.

The Boy turns from Choux Boy to Action Man on holidays. And he was a man with a plan for Bali – surfing, bodyboarding, sailing, snorkelling, scuba diving were all on our activity agenda. I was a little bit afraid. So day two and cooking school was perfect – an activity and I didn’t even need to get wet. Plus I get to ask a million questions about Balinese food, double win. This was the discovery of mie goreng, this was the start of the trip’s obsession. We start at 8am with a trip to the fish and produce market. The average Balinese day starts well before sunrise at around 4 or 5am with a trip to the market (which opens at 2am!) to get food for the day – no fridges equals daily trips. There was everything crabs, sardines, sharks, mullet all from the bay. Woven baskets full were bought and strung onto thick bamboo poles between two men to be run along the bay to a warung.

Most of Balinese cooking, we’re told, revolves around the key roots: galangal, turmeric and ginger which are on sale everywhere in the produce market along with chillis, Balinese limes (smaller and sweeter), bunches of Thai basil...

But on to the Mie Goreng...


Mie Goreng
courtesy of Wayan Suratha head chef of Warung Mie at Four Seasons Jimbaran Bay (and the Four Seasons Cooking School – hence the rather precise measurements and obsession with julienning)

100g boiled fresh noodles
5g chopped garlic cloves
10g red chilli – julienned
25g carrot – julienned
10g spring onions – julienned
40g chopped onion
10g Napa cabbage
8g sliced leeks
1 tsp fish sauce
1 tsp light soy sauce
1 tsp sweet soya sauce
3 tsp oyster sauce
1 tsp Chinese wine
½ tsp sesame oil
1 tsp chilli sauce
1 tsp white pepper

To garnish
25g of sliced omelette
5g fried shallots

Heat up the wok and pour in oil. Add garlic and fry for 3 seconds before adding onions, napa cabbage, leek, red chilli, carrot, spring onions. Pour in fish sauce, soy sauce, sweet soya sauce, oyster sauce, Chinese wine, chilli sauce and seasame oil. Add noodles and toss well. Check seasoning. Serve topped with omelette and shallots with crackers.

After Jimbaran Bay we travel round the coast and away from the crowd to East Bali and Amankila. And my second Balinese obsession ‘salak’ fruit (don’t worry I was acquiring, not cheating on my food obsessions, I was still having mie goreng for lunch almost every day). I was immediately drawn to it because of its skin. It looks and feel exactly like snakeskin (how long would it last fashioned into a bracelet before I started smelling of rotting fruit I wondered...) The skin is thin and easily peeled away in satisfying strips to reveal the knobbles of the three of four segments of fruit beneath. Good ones were sweet, not juicy but crunched a bit like an apple. The best one I eat was off the basket on the head of a Balinese woman during a hike near the small village of Wates. Our guide Kawit said they were the best in all of Bali...


Goodbye to the mountainous jungle of East Bali, a speedboat and it is replaced by the flat, sand-circled tiny paradise isles of the Gili Islands. Gili Meno, Gili Air and Gili Trawangen, our home in an unairconditioned beach shack for the next five days – which in turn was home to some of the best banana pancakes I have ever eaten, but maybe everything tastes better in the sunshine.

In an island that you can walk around in two hours it will come as no surprise that on this leg the obsession was fish. Fresh, simple, barbequed fish. Sat cross-legged in a thatched-roofed, cushioned balĂ©, large Bintang beer, grilled snapper – there’s not much else I could have asked for, well air-con in the beach shack...


Speedboat, minibus, Ubud. The cultural heart of Bali, but I was still thinking with my stomach. Across from our haven of a hotel, Uma Ubud, a smoking, tin shack with Nuri’s painted in huge white letters on the corregated roof.


(Inside Nuri's: Eat, Pray, Love - Tongue, in, cheek)

It looks slightly like it belongs in a war zone. The infamous Naughty Nuri’s. You’ve got to try the BBQ ribs, and lethal martinis.

Of course, we did. But they never quite beat...

(Nuri's Mie Goreng - me liking)

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

Plenty of Otto love

Hello my name is Filo and I'm a cookbook addict. I can't help myself. The pretty pictures, the promise of new and exciting meals, heading to the shops little scribbled list in hand to hunt out new spices and ingredients... I've run out of space for new ones. I had to buy a new bookcase. Some are, I hate to admit, hardly cooked from. Others well splattered and pretty much cooked out: Gordon Ramsay Cooking for Friends, and my favourite.... Ottolenghi: The Cookbook. Ok, so the baking section is pretty much prisine but the meat, the fish and, sigh, the salads have seen me from lunchbox to dinner party.

So, how excited was I when The Guardian (they know that Otto readers are their prime market) ran an extract from his new book Plenty this weekend? I admit, I gave a little squeal in the newsagent. Choux Boy looked at me oddly. The newsagent looked at me even more oddly. I dropped my change. I was hopping with excitement, hopping right into the kitchen. So first up on a sunny Sunday night:

We didn't have quite enough tumeric/saffron to get that intense sunny yellowy glow, but washed down with a couple of bottles of Waitrose English cider it just tasted of pure undiluted summer. Otto that wasn't Plenty at all: must shop, must Amazon, must... buy... new... cook...book.

Wednesday, 7 April 2010

Out of Africa

In this old cultural-melting pot that is London, even in this yummy mummy corner of South West London, you can eat the world without even leaving your postcode. I mean within walking distance on my flat you have French, Indian, Morrocan, Thai, Vietnamese, Spanish, Caribbean, Italian, er... Spur Native American Steak and Grill. Some world cuisines are always going to get the star billing (ol' Michelin fav French) or the mass vote (anything with batter or MSG) but what about the more obscure? Hello South Africa.

As I've mentioned before I love a trip I do. But usually it is my stomach that leads me. This time however the draw of animals, and not just the ones on my plate, was to strong to resist: safari.

Don't worry this isn't going to be a checklist of which animals I saw. I was quickly back to the game plan: food. South African and African food in general, sidestepping the North African tagine-fest, is oft overlooked, hitting the news more often for the lack of, rather than the quality of the produce. You might argue that there are bigger concerns. My hosts &Beyond at Phinda has a policy of conserving the people, the wildlife and the land. So during our time there we visited the work of the &Beyond Foundation - the school, where some children walk two hours each way to attend; the clinic treating a population where around a third of the population is infected with HIV - you can see how gastronomy isn't top of the list. But that doesn't mean there isn't a passion for food. Good, simple, local food. Pineapples sold at the side of the road by the people who picked them. Local game. Juicy avocados. There's nothing quite like eating fresh food outside.

Our lodge The Homestead was readily homely with its 'interactive kitchen' (aka walk in help yourself or nosy around) and chef, the lovely and local, Faith Gina.

The lodge itself was insanely beautiful.




However, the thing they don't tell you about safari is that you have to get up at 5.30 in the morning. After 12 hours on a full overnight flight from London with only THIS for company...


... I was going to need some convincing. First up perfect Faith steak for dinner (she told me it was marinated  for three hours in soy sauce, wholegrain mustard, worcester sauce and red wine) and me and my fellow journos were packed off to bed happy tummed. Mornings, if you can call 5.30am morning, started with African coffee, 'crunchies' (oaty flapjacky biscuits) and South African rusks. A few animals later and it was time for a bush breakfast picnic. Now this was almost worth the 5.30 start. Animals? Oh yeah those too...

Give that boy a pineapple.

But, you're thinking, what about the South African food? Apart from biltong (for those not familar - it's a dried meat snack kind of like beef jerky to Americans) I was after some local flavour and Faith agreed to rustle me up some things to try. Unfortunately this was the precise point I started to feel ill, very ill. Thank you Malarone (my not so friendly anti-malarials).
Now I'm not one to let a little vomiting to stand in the way of gastronomic discovery. I'm made of sterner, and greedier, stock than that. Oh no, throwing up in the bush behind a landrover, oh yes, that classy, was a mere temporary setback. However, my stomach had also shrunk to about the size of a crum of biltong... and it was a South African feast.

Morogo - a kind of South African spinach, fried with onion, chunky peanut butter and tomato

Pap - a starchy blend of cornmeal which is pretty tastless but served with everything and especially...
Tomato and onion sauce...
and roasted butternut squash

                             
Oh and meat, lots of meat...

                             
                              
                              
All together now... yum.

Plus the apparently ubiquitous South African dessert: malva pudding

                             
My biltong-crum tum wasn't quite up to pud but my keen tasters pinpointed it as kind of like sticky toffee pudding.

Biltong crum or no I couldn't leave without a market and, although I decided customs might not appreciate my efforts to transport a bag full of South African chillis back off a 12 hour flight into Heathrow, it was a feast... though just for the eyes this time. They were definitely bigger than my stomach still.

                            
                                                                                                                                             

So I had to make do with some salad tossers and my own &Beyond African recipe book... watch out Wandsworth.