Happy Meals - Variations on a Sunday roast

Before the food - the pedantry. I have noticed that in some post titles I use a hyphen and in some I use a colon and it is irritating me. To the extent that I may spend all day tomorrow going back through hundreds and hundreds of blog posts to try and achieve uniformity. That is all.

Yesterday, D roasted a splendid piece of rolled pork belly, low and slow initially and then blasted with heat so that the meat was juicy and tender but the outer skin crunched loud enough to hear across the room when you bit into it. Just as it should be. The pork sat on a trivet above a tray of apples and onions and cider, and the resulting concoction was just as flavourful as you might imagine, full of bite. We spooned it over the meat where it clung, more a sauce than a gravy and none the worse for that.

I was in charge of sides but decided to do something a little different to a standard complement of roasted roots, and so made, for the first (but not the last) time, a dish of Lyonnaise potatoes and some kale, braised with pancetta, liberally seasoned with black pepper and nutmeg, and finished with just a lick of cream. My main complaint with regards this latter dish is that there was enough of it - the kale cooked down a little more than I was expecting. 

Sunday cooking is lovely - slow, considered...the house becoming steadily more fragrant with cooking smells as the afternoon wends its way into the evening. Sunday cooking is chopping vegetables while perched on a stool at the kitchen island, with a cup of tea to hand and the radio burbling in the background. A very pleasing memory to take into the working week.

A. Wong, Pimlico

At Restaurant A. Wong, they don't serve up courses they serve up collections. The evening menu consists of six collections in total - five savoury and one sweet. When the second collection arrived in front of us, I asked the server in all seriousness, "Are the kitchen trying to kill us?"

Because at Restaurant A. Wong they give you so. Much. Food. Apparently this is typical of the culture - the desire to feed, to feast, to banquet. And fortunately, the food is so, so delicious that you unbutton your trousers, take a deep breath and power on through as much as you can. This is Chinese food done properly, expunging the memories of years of lurid, greasy, sickly takeaways in just three hours and offering a fascinating glimpse into a food culture which is as exciting and challenging and varied as any in the world.

We had the best seats in the house; perched on bar stools overlooking the main kitchen. Prep was done downstairs, and pastry prepared in a cold room off to the side, but the majority of the action took place here in front of our eyes, in an atmosphere of almost preternatural calm. Halfway through service, the main man himself arrived which seemed to make everyone stand up just a shade straighter but otherwise it didn't feel as if anyone was missing a beat and the ballet of the kitchen, mysterious, fragrant and, above all, hot, continued to mesmerise us all evening.

All in all we ate 31 dishes; and with very, very few exceptions they were wonderful. I'll try and pick out a highlight or two from each collection.

Collection 1 was The Banquet - a sumptuous array of eight relatively small dishes. The cured scallop with stuffed crab claw was my favourite here, in terms of flavour and mouth feel it felt like a definite nod to a classic sesame prawn toast, albeit elevated.

Collection 2 was Dim Sum which were a joy from start to finish, although the soup dumpling - "Tangerine fish" with Chiu Chow beef broth and Caviar - was probably the most joyful mouthful. I defy you not to smile as that amazing broth floods your palate.

Collection 3 was Fish. Full disclosure, I wasn't terribly excited about the description of any of the dishes on here but I should have known better. I was surprised by how much I adored the braised abalone with shitake mushroom, sea cucumber and abalone butter; it had an almost smoky quality to it which was immensely pleasing.

Halfway through and we were presented with Collection 4 - Snacks. All excellent, but the soy chicken was generally acknowledged as the favourite - simple (relatively speaking) but classic.

We were both genuinely flagging now and grateful for a short break before the arrival of the ominously named main course (or Collection 5 - Five Flavours). But some of the mouthfuls here were lighter and designed to soothe (chrysanthemum tofu in lemongrass broth) or refresh the palate (Nashi pear with Sichuan pepper). For sheer nostalgia though, I can't not mention the sweet and sour chicken which was both reminiscent of the takeaway classic and yet strangely refined. The candied walnuts here were a wonderful addition, giving, alongside the crispy chicken, a pleasing crunch.

Thankfully Collection 6 - Fruits - was as light as it sounds. A coconut ice with mulberries and yoghurt, and some dainty fruit jellies rounded out the meal and provided a perfect, sweet full stop without overloading our already groaning stomachs. Anything heavier and I would probably have rolled out of there.

An altogether fabulous experience then, and one which I will remember fondly for a very long time. I think anyone with an interest in Chinese food and culture should make a point of coming here to sample the food as it really should be and give it the credit it deserves. Your Saturday night takeaway will never be the same again.

A. Wong

70 Wilton Road

Pimlico

London SW1V 1DE

0207 828 8931

Recent eats: an interminable January

I think January might have lasted forever. And even though we are, let's be honest, over a third of the way through February, February has just proved itself to be something of a January 2.0. Cold, wet, miserable and utterly ennui-inducing. D is only finally now shaking off a cough he's had since before Christmas, I've been feeling rundown and lurgy-ish and none of this has got 2025 off to a particularly dazzling start.

I decided to dust off the blog to do a recent eats post and went searching through my phone for pictures to share - needless to say, found very little. Little by way of food pictures, that is - if you want a picture of the cat asleep on the back of the sofa then I have several hundred iterations. We really haven't left the house very much, one exception being a lunchtime trip to White Cloth Hall, a relatively new Leeds venture which features a number of street food(ish) type vendors. We shared a Jamie Thiccston sandwich from Morty's Focacceria which was an absolute beast of a thing, but delicious for all of that. I would have liked slightly more burrata but, then, I think most things would benefit from more burrata. In general, the ratio of bread to filling was pretty good, there was plenty of salty, slippery mortadella and it wasn't so ridiculously huge you couldn't fit it in your mouth in one go to get the full benefit of the layers.

We've done some home cooking, of course,  and have enjoyed several dishes from Meera Sodha's latest book, Dinner which I commend to your attention, especially if you wish to up your vegetarian and vegan cooking game. Having said that, looking back over the archive meal plan, I think one of my top food moments from January was carnivorous; tucking into haggis, neeps and tatties on Burns night, smothered in a fabulous whisky sauce. Classics are classics for a reason. Oh, and I baked some blondies for my Dad's birthday which turned out rather nicely. 

But all in all not an awful lot to share from these first few weeks of the year. We plod on.

2024: a year in review

This is, above all things, a food blog and so the year in review has to primarily about food. But it is inescapable (for me, at least) that 2024 was the year I lost my Minx Cat. I miss her every single day. We have Millie now, of course, who has brought a great deal of joy, but Minx was a great love. D got me a photo book for Christmas of every single picture he had of her, and I must admit, I cried buckets as I looked through it. She was my girl and I will always, always feel the lack of her.

And now I've made myself cry again so let us all move on and talk about good eats in 2024. Looking back over our year - we went to Mull twice which was wonderful. Barcelona in June - now, that was a foodie trip - and a cheeky long weekend in Vienna. We've also had some fabulous ad hoc meals, including our first trip to L'Enclume since it gained its third Michelin star and fish in a shack on the beach in December.

I'm trying to remember highlights, and it is hard, especially since my memory is appalling. D fell in love with the food of Kiln in the summer, and, I have to admit, I still think about the soy glazed chicken thigh. Returning to Cail Bruich was a pleasure and a privilege; the Isle of Wight tomato with smoked crowdie, basil and elderflower was a blinder of a dish. I had possibly the best beef tartare of my life at The Hare in Scawton - and I've eaten a lot of tartares. And I definitely seem to have rediscovered my sweet tooth this year, although Brett's warm chocolate mousse did nearly finish me off.

Chocolate!

Tomato!

In terms of home cooking, I think that the focaccia that I made for our Easter Sunday feast was one of my proudest achievements of the year - and the credit lies entirely with the recipe. We cooked a Murakami inspired menu for my brother - I am now officially obsessed with Japanese rolled omelettes - and introduced our good friends A&K to the wonder that is D's mussel and saffron soup. Scrolling back through our meal planning spreadsheet, I suspect that the most consumed dish was D's mushroom sauce - served with chicken and pork respectively, always to great acclaim. 

And now onwards to 2025. As I write this, snow lies thick on the ground, the sky is entirely devoid of colour and I could very much do with a nap despite it being only 11am. January, as a month, is a shocker. But I am full of positivity and optimism for the year ahead, once this initial hump has been - well, humped. Happy New Year to everyone.

Restaurant Myse, Hovingham

Myse is the latest project from chef Josh Overington and his partner, who up until a couple of years ago, ran a fine dining restaurant in York called Le Cochon Aveugle. We loved LCA and we loved Josh’s food so we’ve been excited to go to Myse for some time now. 

It was certainly an atmospheric journey, the way passing as it does through the grounds of Castle Howard. As soon as we turned off the A-road, or so it seemed, a fog descended. Rising up ahead, looming into the sky, a great obelisk (which I subsequently discovered was a monument to the 7th Earl of Carlisle). It was just the sort of thing to get you in the mood for a cosy snug and a crackling fire, which, happily, Myse provided as soon as we got through the front door. Then it was off to the large, beautifully appointed room for a quick rest before dinner.

Before I go any further, I must say that there was a lot to like about Myse. Despite a small brigade, and an even smaller front of house team, service throughout dinner ran like a well choreographed ballet (all tables are served the same meal more or less simultaneously). Some of the food was very nice indeed. And let's start with some highlights shall we? For example, serving the fabulous sourdough bread, made every day onsite, with a bowl of chicken dripping (as well as a seeded butter) was a stroke of delicious genius.

A "snack" of braised ox cheek, dipped in Yorkshire pudding batter and then deep fried and served with fermented cucumber gel was as wonderful as it sounds: soft, sticky, rich and then with a last minute sparkle of pickle across the tongue.

Three different dishes of mallard made up the main course proper, all of which were lovely, but the star was undoubtedly a sourdough crumpet topped with liver parfait and mallard ham. Crumpets appear to be having a moment (at the moment) and I am all for it. We should be putting more things on crumpet. And eating more mallard which is all that is good about duck with an extra shot of iron-rich oomph.

A small cup of apple juice, made from fruit from the Harewood estate, was served before the dessert courses. Reader, this has ruined all apple juice for me forever. Crisp, sharp-sweet, it was sensational.

So yes, much to like. But, elsewhere, D and I found ourselves referring to some of the food as "clever" or "interesting" rather than delicious. And while there is nothing wrong with clever and interesting, if it isn't quite hitting the delicious mark as well, then I think that's a shame. The team here are obviously very, very interested in foraging for local and unusual ingredients and in preserving them in innovative ways, and also in being creative in the way in which they employ different cooking techniques, but some of what was served just didn't quite come off - purely for our tastes. 

Also worth noting again that the front of house staff is tiny - and this meant that bar service either side of the meal was not as smooth or slick as it could have been. It's a small detail but, of course, when you're paying a substantial sum of money for an experience, such small details do niggle. Again, though, throughout the meal, the staff were wonderful and that they managed all those covers with the limited number of hands without issue and remaining calm and friendly and engaged was a true testament to their professionalism.

The trouble is, there are so many great restaurants with rooms in Yorkshire and the North East now that if you asked me for a recommendation, Myse would not be the first, or even the second or third that would spring to mind. But I'd be fascinated to go back, maybe for the lunch tasting (which I think is slightly shorter) at a different time of year to see how the cooking style shifts with the seasons - I have a feeling that come the height of summer you'd be experiencing an extremely different type of food.

Restaurant Myse

Main Street

Hovingham

York

YO26 4LF