Showing posts with label Featured. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Featured. Show all posts

Borough Market – Love food, feed love

Borough Market Bread
Borough Market bread.
When writing about food I don't tend to be overtly political, unless there is something directly important to say that's relevant to the politics of food itself. Sometimes though, food, drink, and the enjoyment of these can be overtaken by events that are ‘political’ in the very broadest sense. Events that simply cannot be allowed to pass without comment.

On Saturday 3 June 2017, My partner JML and I spent a blissful few hours wandering around Borough Market.  It’s a place we almost invariably make time for whenever we travel from Scotland to visit London. I even remember it from when I worked in the metropolis in the late 1980s, when it was still one of the capital's main wholesale fruit and veg markets, but experiencing decline and under threat of closure and demolition. It remains important as a wholesale venue even now. Yet it has transformed itself so that many people – and especially those of us considered to be ‘foodies’ – would now certainly equate Borough Market as being one of the best places in the UK to sample an almost incomprehensibly wide range of fine food and ingredients drawn and inspired from across the globe.

That Saturday morning and afternoon, wandering Borough Market we encountered Spanish and Croatian delicatessen delights, charcuterie and cheese from France and Italy, casseroles from Ethiopia, Pakistani spiced lamb, and mezze from Turkey.  There was the best range of dried Mexican chilies – all beautifully described – that you could hope to encounter, well, outside Mexico. There was coffee so good that people were prepared to queue for over 20 minutes, just for a flat white.  And possibly somewhat unusually for London, whilst they were waiting folk were chatting; not just to those they knew, but to other random, fleeting acquaintances with a similar and shared passion for food and drink.

And that’s what food and drink does. It’s a universal leveller, a shared language. We all have to eat. The gastronomic dialect might vary a bit, but that is what makes it so joyous. As a child, I remember encountering the exoticism of lasagne for the first time, the acid unfamiliarity of limes, the alluring alieness of fresh chill. Effectively all new terms in my gastronomic vocabulary. And I now realise that what I was experiencing was a sort of culinary conversation, an exchange of food driven-passion and ideas. I think it's something practically everyone experiences one way or another, and it's a dialogue that reaches beyond single cultures and nations. Why else would we Brits be lovingly referred to as “Le Roast Beef” in France if it wasn’t for an understanding of, and passion for, food?

Borough Market has grown from its ancient, wholesale, origins to become something that superbly nourishes and facilitates this wider culinary conversation. It brings together Londoners of all types and backgrounds, draws in people from across the rest of the UK - frequently including we two lads from Scotland, and also attracts umpteenth visitors from across the world. At every stall, shop, bar and restaurant that now resides there, each enjoyed by a superbly diverse clientele, you can hear the flavoursome chatter, both actual and metaphoric, that constitutes this gastronomic conversation.

On Saturday 3 June, just a few hours after our visit, people with a dreadfully warped sense of humanity purposely chose to try and silence this culinary conversation, with horrific consequences. Understandably the stalls, shops, bars and restaurants of Borough Market have been forced to pause for breath. Rightly, there is a need to contemplate what has happened in this usually exuberant part of South London, and the reasons why anyone would seek to so brutally curtail, even to try to temporarily destroy, what folk across the planet have and do in common - they come together to bond over shared food and drink. Yet it is a pause.

For this joyous cacophony of gastronomic voices that are harmonised by Borough Market, and a multitude of similar venues globally, will never fall silent. The people who run and frequent the place have a common, passionate language when it comes to food. It is a universal tongue. Wandering around the railway arches of Southwark that Saturday, it could be heard everywhere, yet I didn’t need a translator to work out what was being said. I only needed to look at what everyone’s faces so clearly exhibited. The message they conveyed was clear:

‘Love food, feed love.’

Henderson's Vegan Restaurant, Edinburgh review – Delightful dining that ticks all the right (veg) boxes

Vegan caramel slice - Henderson's Edinburgh
Vegan caramel slice - oh yes please!

Henderson's Vegan Restaurant, Edinburgh review - "Two courses in, and everyone around the table agreed that this had been a splendid meal thus far. Yet surely the weak point of a vegan menu had to be pudding, bereft as it would be of such 'vital' ingredients as eggs, cream, cream cheese and butter?"


Hello.  My name is Chris. I, I recently went out for an entirely vegan meal.  And... erm… I very much enjoyed it.  There, I've admitted it!  You're possibly wondering how someone who purports to love dining, and writing about the experience, could seemingly be so jokingly reticent about a dinner that happens to feature no animal-derived produce?  I shall try to explain.

Back in my youth I was vegetarian for several years and, because of an inaccurate assessment that I might have an intolerance to dairy products, vegan for several months.  This was a time when the range of vegan ingredients, and recipes that guided how best to utilise what was available, seemed much more limited than today. And consequently, I did struggle with a vegan diet.
 
Fast forward to the present, and the currently vogueish movement described as ‘clean eating’ has gained substantial interest, as well as some not insignificant criticism.  And whilst not exclusively focused on veganism, the diet does feature in several books and websites that enthusiastically promote the eating of ‘clean’ food.

However, all this being said, when JML and I arranged to dine with a couple of friends, one of whom is a vegan, Henderson's Vegan Restaurant, on Edinburgh’s Thistle Street, seemed like the obvious choice.  Yet still little doubts crept into my mind. Would the food be sufficiently appetising?  Might the venue be a veritable temple where beautiful types who wished to eat themselves ‘clean’ came to worship?  I need not have been concerned on either count.

Cauliflower "steaks" and mushroom and peppercorn sauce - Henderson's Edinburgh.
Tasty cauliflower 'steaks' with mushroom & pepper sauce.
Formerly a bistro forming part of the larger Henderson’s warren-like restaurant/deli/takeaway premises, this particular part of the establishment has been exclusively vegan since 2015. Walking through the door, ‘veganist’ preconception number one was immediately shattered, as the cosy restaurant displayed no trace of being perfumed by incense, scattered with organic bean bags, or sound tracked by whale song. Instead, we were greeted by a casually-trendy, Scandi-Scottish space featuring Nordic-inspired furniture, funky tweed-upholstered banquets, and ‘crazy-paving’ parquet.

So, the restaurant may have achieved a big tick for style, but might that be concealing a menu that was as dull as the vegan cooking of my student days? I shall let what we were served answer that particular clichéd, veganist question.  JML and our friend JW both started with the soup of the day, which happened to be roast red pepper and butternut squash, accompanied by sourdough bread. Rich, smooth and hearty this was really flavoursome, with the sweetness of the roast veg being highlighted by the addition of an earthy hint derived from delicate spices. The sourdough was very good too, whether baked on the premises or bought in.

Vegan haggis - Henderson's Edinburgh
Tasty haggis - meat free.
As our dining conversation centred on music, I shall refer to the fourth member of our group as Siouxsie, who began with a dish of oblongs of crispy grilled polenta – nicely seasoned and possibly enhanced with a pinch of paprika – accompanied by a generous serving of garlic-tastic tofu aioli, which was as creamy and flavoursome as any equivalent made from non-vegan ingredients.  If the soup and polenta were good, I think the real star of our entrées was my freekeh (a cracked and roasted young green wheat for those not in the know) salad, with kale, butternut squash, pear, grapes, and almond flakes, all doused in a cumin-maple dressing.  This dish – which Siouxsie also chose as bathtub-sized main – was a superb take on the Middle Eastern culinary art of contrasting sweet, savoury, and multitudinous textures.  I would gladly make a return visit for this dish alone.

So we were clearly off to a very promising start with – appropriately enough – our starters, but would our meat-free mains be equally impressive?  JW and JML were again in synchrony with their choice of haggis and root mash with red wine gravy and chantenay carrots.  This was a dish that both looked and tasted terrific. Rather than using some non-descript vegetable protein that tried to be a facsimile of flesh, the haggis was pulse-based, which gave it a pleasant texture whilst still retaining the spicy flavour base to be found in 'normal' haggis, and it was an approach that really worked.  The root mash combined with a deeply flavoursome wine-based sauce were the perfect accompaniments to the haggis, with the sweet carrots providing further, tasteful gilding.

Siouxsie agreed with my assessment that the ‘freaky’ salad was just as delicious served as a main, even if her portion could have easily fed a small family.  My choice of principal dish may have subconsciously resulted from the only overt mention of something meaty on the menu.  The cauliflower 'steaks' – though in no way carnivorous – were delicious, consisting of a couple of slabs of perfectly roast brassica that were further enhanced through subtle addition of spice, either cumin or fennel in this case. Accompanied by a mushroom and peppercorn sauce that was so tastily creamy it was hard to believe there was no dairy involved in its production, and freshly pickled red cabbage, which provided a lovely fresh acidity, this was a great dish.

Avocado and lime cheese cake - Henderson's Edinburgh.
Avocado and lime 'cheese' cake - who'd have thought?
Two courses in, and everyone around the table agreed that this had been a splendid meal thus far. Yet surely the weak point of a vegan menu had to be pudding, bereft as it would be of such 'vital' ingredients as eggs, cream, cream cheese and butter? Well that would be another veganist cliché busted, as the three sweets we ordered proved this certainly was not the case. Chocolate nut cake – as the name might suggest – was moist, nutty and packed a cocoa-laden punch, made all the more lovely by the accompanying vanilla ice 'cream' (which I assume might have been soya based).  The caramel slice had a nicely crisp – possibly oatie – base, topped by a gooey wedge of toffee-flavoured fondant. Possibly a wee bit denser than a 'school-dinner classic' version, but not diminished by that fact at all.  Avocado and lime 'cheese' cake was a revelation. Silky smooth, but again with an oatie base crunch, the balance of spiky lime and the grassy creaminess of the avocado was as satisfyingly rich as any traditional cheesecake I have encountered, and nicely complemented by a tangy fruit coulis.

Finishing our meal by supping some excellent espressos, we mulled over how enjoyable our food had been, as well as the very palatable glasses of Rioja, and excellent organic cider and perry we had variously chosen to accompany our meal.  And mention was also made of the friendly and efficient service, too. 

I must confess that in places this review has pandered to stereotypes on what it means to eat vegan. Purposely so.  All too often, those of us who choose to eat animals or their products view those who don’t with ignorant curiosity, dismissiveness, or a mixture of both. Yet the politics behind abstaining from consuming animals – in whatever form – cannot be ignored. At the very least there must be an acceptance that, with a changing global climate, and an ever-expanding global population, deriving nutrition substantially from animal sources is utterly unsustainable.  Those eating vegan are usually more than aware of this. Maybe it's time those of us who aren't vegan put aside our prejudices, and gave such issues more consideration.

Whatever the politics, judging by our experience, a vegan meal at Henderson’s is as memorable as it is delicious.  The place most definitely holds its own amongst non-vegan equivalents. So much so that I hope to be a regular visitor.

Food  8/10
Drink 8/10
Service 7.5/10
Value 7.5/10

Ambience – Expect a trendily relaxed bistro.  

Henderson's Vegan Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Henrick’s Bar & Bistro, Edinburgh – Pre-theatre dining that misses the final act

(Not so) cripsy pork belly, ginger glaze, spring greens, Henrick's Edinburgh.
Henrick's Edinburgh: ginger glazed pork belly - no crackling...

Henrick's, Edinburgh review - "My peppered mackerel mousse consisted of a couple of quenelles of creamy fishy pâté, atop dollops of grapefruit salsa, with 'rustic' oatcakes. It was nice enough, but I would maybe expect a little more citrus zing from the salsa as a counterpoint to the rich, smoked-peppery fish flavour from the mousse."


I’ve often maintained that eating is as much a cultural experience as it is about sustenance.  After all, few things can be as social as sharing a meal with friends or family.  Likewise, a particular regional, or national cuisine can be highly representative of the culture from whence it originates.  Given the cultural resonance of food, it’s probably unsurprising then that JML and I quite often like to combine going out for a meal with a visit to a comedy show, the cinema, or the theatre.

This was recently the case when we decided to travel across town to take in Anita and Me at Edinburgh’s King’s Theatre.  If only JML had realised the production wasn’t in fact a play but a musical before he booked the tickets.  Somewhat surprisingly, he can’t abide musicals…

So, before taking our seats in the stalls, we decided to also take in an early dinner.  Now there is no shortage of eateries in the Tollcross / Bruntsfield districts of Edinburgh – quite the reverse in fact – but having read a favourable write up in the press, JML suggested we try Henrick’s Bar and Bistro, not least because it was a couple of minutes’ walk from the venue, and therefore well used to catering for the pre-theatre dining crowd. With recollections of having had a decent meal there years ago, I agreed this seemed like a good call.

Occupying double fronted premises on the ground floor of a Victorian tenement, the interior of Henrick's is quite architecturally impressive, sporting high, corniced ceilings, a handsomely imposing bar, and dark, wood-panelled walls. All nicely balanced by neutral paint shades, complimentary dark leather furniture, and stripped wooden floors. Welcomingly alluring.  "But enough with the World of Interiors, what's the scran and swallie like?", I hear you ask.

Brocolli and goats' cheese tart - Henrick's Edinburgh.
Tasty broccoli and goats' cheese tart.
Now, whilst the venue offers a two-course pre-theatre menu - pretty good value at £12.50 - we decided to go for the new, Spring al a carte option. First course arrived in quick time, just after bottles of sparkling water and very quaffable Rioja found their way to our table.  I was sorely tempted by the goats’ cheese tart, but was pipped to that post by JML.  It transpired to be a solid choice, with the (just) crisp pastry base being filled with an appealing combination of greenery in the form of tender broccoli and spring onion, and a richly flavoured caramelised onion and chilli jam. The fresh, yet savoury, goat's cheese that wasn't too overpowering, and the dish came dressed with a pleasant Balsamic glaze. ­ A decent curtain-up effort.

My peppered mackerel mousse consisted of a couple of quenelles of creamy fishy pâté, atop dollops of grapefruit salsa, with 'rustic' oatcakes. It was nice enough, but I would maybe expect a little more citrus zing from the salsa as a counterpoint to the rich, smoked-peppery fish flavour from the mousse.  Plus, fine as the oatcakes were - and I stand to be corrected here - they seemed to be more mass-produced than rustic.  And I am not sure that the limp rocket garnish brought much to the dish.

Peppered mackerel mousse and oat cakes - Henrick's, Edinburgh.
Peppered mackerel mousse.
Now much as I love hake - pan fried with an oriental twist on Henrick's Spring menu - I adore pork belly in equal measure.  There is something utterly irresistible about a slab of slow cooked porcine loveliness, all crisp on top and meltingly unctuous beneath. So I was salivating with anticipation at the arrival of a main course of slow cooked pork belly in a ginger glaze.  Did my eager anticipation turn out to be well placed?


The accompanying mashed potato was smooth-ish and creamy, and the spring greens - though I don’t think mange tout is locally seasonal - were cooked just to point with a nice basting of salty soy sauce. The pork belly was "fine", to coin an adjective again. The meat was tender enough but, where there should have been a layer of crackling, there was no crispness present whatsoever.  The sticky ginger glaze, whilst flavoursome, was maybe a little too sweet and lacking in astringency to properly balance the richness of the meat. Rightly or wrongly, memories of my father's pressure-cooked pork belly in Homepride Cook-in-Sauce sprang to mind - Dad, if you're reading this, it was pretty cutting edge for 1976, honest...

Always one for a nice steak, JML struck lucky when he spied an 8oz fillet of prime Scottish beef on the menu.  "Cooked to your preference" - which in JML's case is medium rare.  A suitably enticing-looking slab of meat was served, together with nicely crispy/fluffy chips, juicy roast tomatoes, and a creamily rich sauce laden with citrusy-spicy pink peppercorns.  It scored a tick as decent pub grub, except for the fact that the steak wasn't quite as JML preferred. It was much more medium than medium rare.

To draw the review of our pre-theatre dining to a close, I'd love to tell you about our pudding choices of JML’s chocolate brownie and - one of my particular favourites - rhubarb and apple crumble.  Alas, this isn't possible. Despite the fact we ordered our desserts 35 minutes before curtain up, we had to leave empty mouthed after half an hour, or risk missing the start of the first act.  To be fair our splendid glasses of tawny Port did arrive promptly, and the very amenable front of house staff were effusively apologetic and knocked the puds off the bill as soon as we said we needed to pay.

Fillet steak and chips, Henrick's, Edinburgh.
Nice fillet steak - more medium than m-rare.
So, to draw on the theatrical theme, the plot summary for Henrick's:  Despite the flash bar, its more cosy than cutting edge.  It's a venue that is obviously popular - by 6.45pm on a Friday every cover was taken, which is maybe why the kitchen had a bit of a (lack of) pudding moment to itself.  It serves decent enough pub grub, though by our experience I think the inclusion of "bistro" in its title might be pushing it a wee bit.  And whilst I recognise that every restaurant can have a bit of an off night, if one of your key customer bases is the pre-theatre crowd, you must be able to get your - certainly not cooked to order from scratch - puds out to punters before the curtain goes up.







Food – 6.5/10
Atmosphere –7/10
Service – 6/10 (N.B. generally very good service, bar the missing puddings)
Value – 7/10

Ambience - expect a pleasant bar/restaurant serving decent pub grub fare. 


Henricks Bar Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Hake, tomato & anchovy-stuffed olive roast – happy recipe & ingredient tinkering!

Hake, cherry tomato, & anchovy-stuffed green olive roast
Tomato and anchovy olive hake-bake.

Hake, tomato & anchovy-stuffed olive roast recipe - "The pimentón imparts a lovely wood-fired spiciness.  Rather than Nocellara olives, my version of the recipe uses Spanish green Manzanilla olives stuffed with anchovy puree.  This brings a wonderful, subtle seafood umami flavour to the dish but doesn't overpower the flavour balance at all."


When it comes to recipes, and cook books for that matter, I've always been a bit of a magpie. I love perusing and using them to discover how other enthusiastic cooks and foodies have combined familiar, and not so familiar, ingredients to make an enticing dish.  I remember as a child thumbing through the volumes of my parents' Supercook magazine collection, reading in wonderment the instructions on how to prepare, what seemed in the 1970s, seemingly exotic meals.  As a student, I used to snip recipes from the Sunday supplements and save them in scrapbooks for future reference. Nowadays, I can just as easily do such snipping online, of course. Yet I still love turning and gazing at the pages of cookbooks both new and old.

Now I'm not sure if it's down to my scientific background, but much as I savour a good recipe, it's not often I don't think about having a wee tinker with it.  The thought "I wonder what it would taste like if..." frequently pops into my head.  Usually my experimentation is subtle; I might substitute Rosemary with Thyme, or add a further - hopefully complimentary - spice or vegetable to the mix of ingredients.  Sometimes things go well, sometimes they are not so successful, but I like to think my tinkering never produces any total disasters.  And truth be known, I suppose it's through exactly this process that the multitude of variations in such standards as, say, pasta Bolognese, or fish pie, come into existence.

A successful example – at least to my taste buds – of my ‘freestyling’ involves a super, yet straightforward, recipe I happened across in this year’s Olive magazine calendar.  It’s for a tray roast involving cod wrapped in Parma ham, and cooked with cherry tomatoes and Nocellara green olives. A cinch to cook and, as both JML and I agreed, delicious and quite healthy to boot.  But when I thought about cooking it again a few days later, that little voice inside my head piped up “I wonder what it would taste like if it the emphasis was a bit more Spanish than Italian?”…