Recipe corner: slow cooked sausage sauce (ideal for penne)

I hope that I'm not the only person out there that has an absolutely ridiculous amount of recipe bookmarks. I mean, more dishes than I could ever make in a lifetime if you count them up across all the different platforms. And still, they continue to accumulate.

There are some, though, that just lodge themselves in your head. And the fact that I recently cooked a recipe from a blog post that was originally written in 2010 just goes to show that...er, it may take 14 odd years but you might get there eventually. And, when you do, it will be splendifiourous! For this was a truly fantastic dish that I'm glad I finally roused myself to make, and will appear on our food plan again.

I believe that this is originally a River Cafe recipe, via Essex Eating, to ensure that the full credit is here in the post. It is rich and meaty and creamy and the absolute perfect pasta sauce to carry you through the autumn months. 

Ingredients

4 decent pork sausages

tbsp olive oil

Red onion, finely chopped

3 garlic cloves, crushed or grated

1/2 tsp chilli flakes

1/2 tsp fennel seeds

Bay leaf

150ml red wine

400g tin tomatoes

Pinch of sugar

1/4 nutmeg

60g Parmesan, finely grated (plus the rind if you have it)

75ml double cream

Serves 2-3 with 75g pasta pp (depending on level of greed)

Over a medium heat, warm the oil and then crumble in the sausage meat, removed from its skins. Cook gently, until more fat starts to render from the sausages.

Now add the onion, garlic and dried spices and, keeping the heat relatively low, cook for 30 mins or so until the onion is golden and soft.

Add the wine, whack the heat up a notch or two, and cook briskly until all the liquid has evaporated. Then add the tomatoes, seasoning with a pinch of sugar to take off the acidity, and add the Parmesan rind as well if you happen to have it. Turn down the heat and simmer for 45 minutes.

Season with the nutmeg, plus salt and pepper as required (you won't need much of either), and then stir through the grated cheese and the cream.

Serve with pasta (although I actually also think this would be lovely with a cloud of mash).

Kiln, London

There are very few times in life when I'm sorry to live in the North of England, despite having grown up on the London / Essex border. But there is no doubt that those people who live in London, or its environs, have access to a wondrous selection of eateries, far more varied than we have even in a decent sized city like Leeds. To Soho then, yesterday, and to Kiln, which is a D discovery. He has been a proper fanboy over it since eating there twice in two days earlier this year. 

Did I like Kiln? Yes, absolutely, and I’m only sorry that my friend J and I were relatively restrained with our menu choices (we needed to save room for an afternoon of cocktail consumption).

Speaking of cocktails, it would have been rude not to try Kiln’s offering. J went for dark rum with strawberry and cacao while I had gin with lime and something else which currently escapes me (probably because of all the brain cells I killed off in the proceeding hours). Gorgeous though, really bright and sherberty.

Food - we went for two of the smaller plates, the Northern Laap sausage and the slow cooked chicken and soy. I was expecting to love the sausage - and indeed it was rich and meaty and funky with dried shrimp. But I think the chicken was my favourite. Incredibly tender, the marriage of the sweet, melting meat with the umami hit of soy and the lick of flame from the grill, was utterly irresistible.

Stir fried greens in soy (we felt veg were required) were fresh and crunchy and a welcome foil to the meat. Dirty napkin included in the shot for, er, effect.

We weren’t going to try the glass noodles with belly pork and brown crab meat, but the server insisted that it was a Kiln classic. Enjoyable - there was a lovely kick of heat from the noodle dressing - but the crab meat was not readily discernible which was a little bit of a shame. Next time I’d definitely opt for rice and a curry instead.

This is Thai food the likes of which I haven’t seen before and really illustrates that it is a cuisine that is far more than fish cakes and green curry. Spicy and rich and exciting, it’s only a shame it’s not closer at hand. 

Happy Meals - the tastiest sausage

 

The second HM post and this one also contains a homemade sausage. But I make no apologies because sausages are wonderful things and homemade sausages are particularly wonderful (although Ginger Pig’s offerings come a close second).

D’s Merguez sausages are extra-particularly wonderful. Lamb, rather than pork, and heavily spiced with a hint of chilli heat. We ate them with red pepper hummus (also homemade, using my basic template as a starting point and then throwing in roasted red peppers, paprika, chilli, oregano and extra garlic), flatbreads, stuffed vine leaves and herby falafels (not homemade - the shame!)

Excellent stuff.

Six by Nico, Leeds

August was supposed to be a quiet, relatively frugal month as September and October look set to be quite busy (and spendy). But it doesn't seem to have quite worked out that way. Last Saturday found us visiting somewhere that has been on the radar for a while - Six by Nico. 

There are quite a few of these now (I count fourteen on the website) but it's not your usual chain restaurant in that it offers a tasting menu. All the branches do the same six course menu designed by the head chef Nico Simeone. These menus, which change every six weeks, are all themed - "inspired by a different memory, place or idea". They also offer a matching wine pairing, and both food and wine are priced pretty reasonably, although apparently the prices do vary depending upon which city you are in. We, for example, paid £42 for the food and £33 for the wine pairing. 

Our theme was "Guilty Pleasures" and we had such high hopes for the menu. Included were takes on some of our favourite things - a breakfast muffin! Macaroni cheese! A fish finger sandwich! Fried chicken! The dishes read extremely well.

Not quite sure, then, what went wrong. Well, I say wrong and that is probably unfair. There was nothing wrong wrong with the food. It was just...underwhelming. The wine was...OK. We left feeling vaguely disappointed without quite being able to express why. Perhaps we had pitched our hopes slightly too high.

Every single dish was well presented, elegant and modern looking, with the requisite splodges and smears that denote fayne dayning. But also, in every single dish, the balance of flavours was just slightly off. Maybe there were just too many elements vying for attention. Maybe the seasoning wasn't quite on point. I'm just not sure.

Highlights - well, I enjoyed the macaroni cheese which came with cauliflower couscous, jalapeno gherkin ketchup and pickled golden raisins. Strip away the gubbins and the macaroni cheese itself was exactly what you want from a macaroni cheese - cheesy, a little stodgy and with some crispness on top for contrasting texture. 

We both also agreed that the crispy chicken thigh with NFC crumb was very tasty - here, the seasoning was just right and the crumb delivered a good punch of flavour. The accompaniments were fine, but really, just a bucket of the chicken would have probably perfectly acceptable!

The other thing we found was that the service felt...well, needy. All the staff were lovely and friendly and obviously wanted us to have a nice time, but we constantly felt required to reassure them that yes, we were enjoying the food and yes, the wine was lovely and no, we definitely didn't want any water. We were brought an iPad along with the bill to provide feedback (OK...) and then D was emailed a day or so later to provide more feedback. At which stage he pointed out that the constant need for validation came across as needy and then they emailed back to apologise! 

I can't say I'd rush back to SBN much as I actually like the concept a lot. The food is not quite as good as it thinks it is, and there are better places to eat in Leeds.  However, it would possibly be a good place to go with a larger group - it was bright and loud and buzzy and fun and seemed more set up for that kind of audience than a slightly grumpy middle aged couple who like to be left alone to eat their meal in peace. 

Happy Meals - a Thai inspired Saturday supper

Welcome to a new, probably infrequent, possibly one episode only series of quick posts talking about meals have cooked at home that we particularly enjoyed.

A little background to this one: D is currently a little obsessed with the London based Thai restaurant Kiln. He went there twice in two days when he was last down. They don’t have a recipe book but they do have a few recipes available on the Great British Chefs website and, yesterday evening we cooked two of them. 

Behold, with my usual appalling food photography skills on display (in fairness, I was hungry) - two Sai oua which is a type of Northern Thai sausage served with a mushroom salad with bitter herbs. On the side, Thai sticky rice, lightly fried then dressed with a sauce consisting of a tablespoon each of Sriracha chilli sauce, honey, fish sauce and sesame oil and finished with some shredded omelette (which had been seasoned with more fish sauce and white pepper). The whole dish was garnished with Thai basil and birds eye chillies. 

Better than any Thai takeaway I have EVER had, I enjoyed every mouthful. And if the food in Kiln is even half as good then D is really on to something and I need to get my arse there as soon as possible. 

Millie

Just over a fortnight ago, we welcomed a new friend into our home. 

Since Minx died the house has felt weirdly empty. Although we will never be able to replace her, we just didn’t feel like a proper family without a cat. 

And so, Millie.

She is probably 14 - some of her paperwork suggests slightly younger. Either way, she is a venerable lady in cat years and we did think long and hard before we went to see her as, from the outset, we have to accept that we probably won't have her for very long. But the idea of this beauty having to finish out her days in a tiny pen hurt us both. And when we met her, the friendliest, sweetest girl, we knew that we had to make sure that she had a good retirement with us,

So there we go. The WWF blog has another feline in residence! Welcome, Millie!

Recent eats (Leeds edition)

I couldn’t bear to have that last post sitting there at the top of the blog for ever. Even though Minx’s absence is still felt every day. 

Back to food! And we’ve been to a couple of new Leeds venues recently that are well worth a mention.

First up, I think this ricotta and tomato on toast from Eat Your Greens is one of the prettiest lunches that I have had in a while.

I’m not sure that I quite understand the concept of the place - if, indeed, it has such a thing (and perhaps the question is, why does it need one?) There is a light lunch menu which was predominantly veggie when we were there; dinner is more substantial and with a few more options for the carnivores, although still definitely somewhere you could quite comfortably go with a vegetarian friend. There is also a small grocery area, selling some fresh produce and some interesting looking pantry items. Service was friendly, but leisurely. 

Then the other week we got to Empire Cafe which attracted quite a lot of local attention when it got a glowing write up from renowned food critic (and Masterchef stalwart) Jay Rayner. Reader, we loved it so much we are already booked to go back. If you like rotisserie chicken then you must make a pilgrimage - these birds, lathered and crumbed and cooked on a wall of flame, produced some of the most delicious, tender chicken that either of us have ever eaten. 

NB: in addition, an intriguing array of starters or small plates listed, so be sure and go hungry enough that you can squeeze in a few nibbles. D was most taken with his duck parfait éclair (although it was rich - one between two would have been fine). 

Leeds has popped up on the tellybox as well. Rick Stein paid a visit to the very wonderful Bundobust while recently doing a food tour of Britain - so far, so predictable (with the number of travelogues Stein has done over the years he must surely have been to pretty much everywhere by now?) But somewhat more intriguingly, Adam Richman of Man vs Food fame, visited Leeds as part of a show in which he drives around eating traditional British dishes in the places from whence they take their name. So, in Leeds, he was in YORKSHIRE so he ate a YORKSHIRE pudding, he had a SCONE in SCONE. You get the drift. He seemed genuinely interested in the food culture of the city and genuinely appreciative of the dishes he got to try in venues that varied from the market food hall to the somewhat-posher-than-a-market The Owl.* Which was nice as sometimes it is easy to take the place that you live for granted, especially Leeds which can be a bit grey and appears to have been entirely subsumed under scaffolding for the last ten thousand years.

(*Although it should be noted that The Owl's very first iteration was actually based in Kirkgate Market.)

On grief

We lost our beloved Minx Cat last week. 

When I say lost, obviously I don't mean misplaced. She wasn't the kind of cat to blend into the surroundings. Nor was she very good at hiding (always a tail or a paw poking out to give her away).

And I suppose the phrase is, we had her put to sleep. Or Put to Sleep, with respectful capitalisation. But I'm not sure I like that either because, however hard I keep wishing, she isn't going to wake up and come wandering down the stairs for a cuddle and some treats.

She featured a lot in this blog over the years, so I felt it only right that she got one final post. I wish I could come up with something more profound to say. I miss her so much and I will always have a Minx shaped hole in my heart.

A few days in Scotland

We've had a spate of holidays recently, which has been lovely, although the diary now stretches empty ahead of us until the back end of October. Sigh. Still, my digestion, liver and credit card all definitely need a bit of a rest, so I am hoping for some decent weather over the next few months so I can take up residence on our new outdoor decking and dedicate myself wholeheartedly to drinking tea and catching up with my Goodreads Reading Challenge.

The two "big" meals I will cover in a separate post, but in between the Michelin star, high-end deliciousness we still managed some excellent eating.

Firstly, we spent a quiet few days on the shores of Loch Fyne and, of course, we had to eat oysters at every given opportunity:

I also made it a personal goal to get thoroughly stuck in to the local venison; putting away both a loin, cooked to absolute blush-pink perfection:

And haunch shredded into a tender heap and piled into fabulously messy tacos:

Then to Glasgow, and my first lunch in the city found me sampling my first ever vegan burger - do you know, I really enjoyed it. It didn't have quite the mouthfeel of meat but the taste was rich and savoury. I will never be other than a carnivore, but I certainly wouldn't argue if someone served me up one of these in future. The beetroot bun wasn't quite up to the task of containing everything though, so I did end up eating it with a knife and fork. The shame.

We were primarily in Glasgow to go the TRNSMT festival and we were primarily at the TRNSMT festival to see Pulp play. What we learned while we were there: we are old. Festivals are not for the likes of us, even if we were of an age where we remembered the headline act being in the charts (as opposed to the majority of the audience who WEREN'T EVEN BORN IN THE 90s). The food and drink at the festival itself was not great, which, when you consider the amazing boom in street food vendors over the last few years was rather disappointing. Still, we consoled ourselves the following day with a meal at Glasgow stalwart, The Ubiquitous Chip. More venison, this time in the form of haggis (here hidden under a veil of swede and gravy):

And, of particular note, a couple of excellent desserts. D's peanut butter parfait with milk chocolate and yoghurt sorbet:

And my mango and passionfruit Rum Baba (not quite enough rum for my tastes, but forgiven since it was bursting with zingy tropical flavours):

Recipe corner: maritozzi (Roman cream buns)

It's been a good few weeks since we got back from Rome and we still find ourselves talking frequently about the trip, which is probably a sign that a) it was a good holiday and b) we need to get ourselves back there as soon as ever we can. Which, unless someone wins the lottery, is unlikely to be this year. So, in the meantime, we console ourselves with glorious Italian food.

This weekend, I made maritozzi, which are light, sweet buns split and filled with whipped cream. One restaurant we went to also served a savoury version wherein the buns were split and filled with whipped anchovy butter. As rich as it sounds. For mine, I made two versions - one where the sweetened cream was rippled through with raspberry puree and another where it was combined with the sweet pistachio paste that I brought home from Rome. But, really, the world is absolutely your oyster here. 

The buns themselves are a lovely texture managing to be both light and robust, and while they are sweet they are not overly so; I split one and had it toasted with butter and jam and that was also delicious. I suppose they are tending towards the brioche, but slightly less rich.

Chef's note one: I baked a test batch for 20 minutes and they were beginning to dry out, 18 was perfect. But, it's always worth starting to test slightly early. For an enriched dough like this one, you want the internal temperature to be between about 90 and 93 degrees to ensure they're cooked.

Chef's note two: I never have whole milk in, we are skimmed all the way in this house. So, after a bit of research online, I discovered that I could combine 290ml of skimmed milk with 2 tsp of double cream which should achieve around the same fat content as whole milk.

Chef's note three: you could make these the night before and leave to prove in the fridge. Ensure that they come to room temperature before baking. Having said that, they seem to last extremely well in a sealed container.

Ingredients

300ml whole milk (see note above)

530g strong white bread flour

1 tbsp fast action dried yeast

1/2 tsp salt

1 medium egg yolk

70g runny honey

60ml olive oil (plus extra for greasing)

Makes 10 buns

Pour the milk into a small saucepan. Whisk together the honey and the olive oil. Place the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook and break in the egg yolk.

Set the saucepan of milk over a low heat and bring it up to a low heat (the best way to test this is with a clean finger. It should not feel too hot to the touch). When the milk is warm, whisk in the honey and oil mix. Turn the stand mixer on to a low speed, and, when the egg is incorporated, start to pour in the liquid.

Once everything is added, and the dough is coming together, whack the speed up a couple of notches and knead for 7 mins (note: if you're doing this by hand it may well take longer. Be aware that this is quite a soft, sticky dough and a mixer is preferable if at all possible).

Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl, cover and leave to prove for 60 - 90 minutes, or overnight in the fridge.

When making the buns, divide the dough into 10 equal pieces, shape into balls and place on two lined baking trays. Prove for a further 30 minutes, switching the oven on to 180 around 10 minutes before you are ready to bake to ensure it is up to temperature. Bake these for around 18 - 20 minutes, turning the trays round halfway through if the temperature distribution in your oven is uneven.

Once cooled, these can be split and served with any sweetened, flavoured cream filling of your choice. 

Fresh from the oven

Scruffily filled with raspberry cream

Recipe corner: labneh with roasted tenderstem broccoli

Of COURSE it was the case that on one of the hottest days of the year I should have planned an evening meal that required a lot of time spent cooking. Just as on a similarly warm day a few weeks ago, I went to a pastry making class (at Betty’s Cookery School and it was tremendous fun, albeit attempting flaky pastry in 20 degree plus heat is rather messy). My sense of timing has always been admirable. 

Anyway, last Saturday night we had sort-of mezze. I say sort of because the dishes and flavours were taken from a range of cuisines and thrown together in what I would like to think was a fusion (rather than confusion) of gastronomic experiences. But I fully concede I might be deluded on that point; never let it be said I achieve authenticity in my cooking. 

We had D’s amazing Merguez sausages, roasted and served with a simple houmous and a few whole chickpeas for texture. We had Ottolenghi’s iman bayaldi, a stewed aubergine dish that I’ve been meaning to make for ages. We had za’tar flatbreads. And we had roasted broccoli on labneh. 

So, this latter dish was inspired by two things; a perusal of the original Moro cookbook, and a starter I ate at the late, lamented Reliance sometime last year. (For those not au fait with the Leeds pub scene, The Reliance was a fantastic gastropub and Leeds institution, and the menu was magic for interesting vegetable based dishes).

Even if you don’t try this particular combination, I’d urge you to give labneh a go - so easy and SO delicious. It found it to be similar in taste and texture to Boursin cheese; my next batch I am going to combine with cracked black pepper and smear all over a baguette. 

Ingredients

For the labneh (first stage):

300g full fat Greek yoghurt

Generous pinch of salt

(Second stage):

Small clove of garlic

Spring onion, finely chopped

Salt and plenty of black pepper

For the garnish:

100g trimmed tenderstem broccoli spears

Tbsp olive oil (plus extra for garnish)

Tbsp flaked almonds

1-2 tbsp pickled jalapeño chillis, roughly chopped (optional)

Serves 2 as part of a mezze spread or side dish

Making labneh is incredibly easy but you will need a large bowl, a muslin cloth, a wooden spoon and room in the fridge.

Line the bowl with the cloth and spoon in your yoghurt. Add salt and stir through. Then, gather up the sides of the cloth and tie round the handle of the wooden spoon (other kitchen implements will work too), which you have laid across the top of the bowl, so that you end up with a little money bag of yoghurt, suspended over the bowl. The bag should not touch the bottom of the bowl. 

I feel like I have repeated the word bowl too often in that paragraph.

Leave overnight in the fridge. Mine was suspended for about 22 hours in total and I thought the consistency was perfect but the longer it stays in there, the firmer it will be.

When you come to make the dish, preheat the oven to 180 degrees and toss the broccoli in olive oil and seasoning. Once the oven has come to temperature, you will roast for around 20 mins.

Drain any liquid from the bottom of the labneh bowl and remove the cheese from the muslin cloth. Beat lightly to loosen and then you can add any flavouring you wish. I kept this relatively simple by stirring through a little garlic, a spring onion and lots of seasoning. Spread the labneh on a serving plate.

Lightly toast the almonds in a dry frying pan over a low heat.

When the broccoli is roasted and the ends beginning to look a little charred, remove from the oven and place on the labneh. Drizzle over a little olive oil and sprinkle on the almonds and jalapeño chillies (if using).

Note: if you’re not a fan of crunchy broccoli, you may wish to blanche the spears in advance of roasting.

All'Oro, Rome

Although every meal we had in Rome was memorable, our dinner at All'Oro will linger in the memory for a long time to come, and is quite possible that, come the end of the year, one of our best dishes will have been taken here. 

Whenever we go to a new place, we always want to eat as locally and typically as possible, and the trouble is that a lot of high end restaurants, particularly when situated within hotels, tend to be the kind of mishmash "modern European" cuisine which, no doubt, is fabulously delicious, but not of its place. Which is why we were delighted that All'Oro offered a "Classics" tasting menu. 

It looked deceptively short and simple, for which we were grateful after a few days of quite intense consumption courtesy of our friend A. However, what we had failed to account for was the fact that All'Oro take their appetisers EXTREMELY seriously. There were twelve in total - all bite size, yes, but twelve of the richest most delicious bites known to greedy man. Having reached the end, we already felt like we had had a substantial meal. A couple of highlights:

This was the restaurant's "take" on a Caesar salad. A Caesar salad biscuit. So pretty, but so intense with umami flavour (I like the fact that you can see my notebook creeping into the back of the shot here. Also, you can't see it from this angle, but the dish in which these biscuits were served was actually the hollowed head of a Roman emperor. So clever!)

The Panzanella sphere - ohhhh. This needed to be eaten in a single bite as the centre was liquid essence of tomato. Again, as beautiful to look at as it was to eat. D and I couldn't stop grinning for a good couple of minutes after this one.

The meal proper kicked off with a "savoury tiramisu". I will admit to being slightly wary - I enjoy a good tiramisu but can sometimes find them to be lacking in texture. Here, crispy pork cheek was used to bring that much needed textural variety to a light as air potato foam and meltingly soft cod. The gentle bitterness of the cocoa powder was also welcome. 

All'Oro's take on a carbonara is probably one of the most delicious things I have eaten in a while. Again, crispy bacon was used to bring texture to cloud like layers of pecorino and parmesan cream, and the bite of the black pepper ensured that the dish was not too cloying. The egg shell presentation was whimsical without being twee.

Of two pasta dishes proper, it was the second that was our favourite - a cappelletti filled with a delicious savoury consommé which popped in the mouth, flooding it with flavour. 

There may have been flagging at this point, and the oxtail rocher, while delicious, was incredibly rich and the accompanying celery gelee failed to offer the relief of any acidity to cut through it.  Still, I thought, just dessert to come but...no. While All'Oro's take on a classic tiramisu was as fantastic as you might it expect, it did not signal the end of the meal. Instead...petits fours. And, like the appetisers, these were taken very seriously indeed. I can't resist sharing a picture of the doll with candyfloss hair, even if I was almost on the point of either weeping or swearing off food for life.

So, All'Oro. Amazing. Next time (and I can't imagine going to Rome and not making a return trip here) we plan to try the other tasting menu which appears to be slightly less rooted in Roman tradition, which, judging by some of the dishes mentioned on the a la carte, could prove extremely interesting. I cannot recommend it highly enough in terms not just of food but exemplary, fabulous service. I just beseech you - make sure that, when you go, you are EXTREMELY hungry.

When in Rome (eat as the Romans do)

Pretty much every main meal we ate in Rome, we tried to seek out restaurants doing Roman food - sometimes traditional and sometimes a more modern spin but always rooted in the rich culinary tradition of the city.

We were there in the springtime, so it was the season of the carciofi (artichoke); a troublesome vegetable that I've never really bothered with at home. But, partly due to the variety grown over there, and partly due to the time, trouble and copious amounts of oil employed in cooking them, these were a genuine delight, rendered almost creamy in flavour and texture. They seem to like to put them in a lot of things: sandwiches, pasta and even tossed through a plate of simply cut and shredded meat to make a surprisingly rich main course.

The classic pasta dishes of Rome, the mainstays of every menu, appear to be carbonara (cheese, guanciale, egg), cacio e pepe (cheese and pepper) and gricia (cheese and guanciale). The pasta that we ate was definitely firmer than we tend to have it in Britain - not crunchy but definitely exhibiting that classic, if elusive, description of "al dente". And the dishes were a bit saucier than I tend to cook them which was interesting to note. 

Offal also plays a big part in Roman cuisine. Oxtail popped up on most menus - including the most beautiful, rich, sticky bowl of oxtail risotto which is definitely one to recreate at home. On our final evening, we tried the local delicaies of Roman style tripe and pork tendons. I try not to be squeamish about food but, I must admit, I had struggled with the idea of trip when our good friend A had proposed it earlier in the trip, but when it turned up on a tasting menu it was only right to try it. And reader, although it probably won't make my top ten dishes of the year, it was very tasty indeed (although I think that is mainly down to the delicious sauce it was tossed through; that quiveringly pallid Yorkshire dish of tripe and onions still carries no appeal whatsoever). The tendons, to the right of the picture, were lightly pickled and, although the texture was slightly odd, were very interesting to eat.

La bella vita - a sojourn in Rome

We've just got back from a lovely few days in Rome. Despite forecasts to the contrary, we basked in glorious sunshine, walked our feet off and ate. Oh my word, how we ate. We ate so much that for two days after we got back we consumed little more than toast which we nibbled at like Victorian consumptives. Roman food is RICH.

We went with an Italian friend, A, who lived in the city for five years while studying. We asked him to show us "typical" Roman food and he did us absolutely proud, taking his mission extremely seriously. And so as well as an abundance of typically Roman restaurant dishes (highlights to follow in a future post) we also sampled the wares of a local market, had three cone gelato, enjoyed the deep fried delights of Roman "suppli" and learned that Romans take their biscuits extremely seriously.

This is a selection of the wares from La Biscottificio Artigiano Innocenti, a noted local bakery. To describe these as biscuits is selling them somewhat short. 

Here we see an example of a typical Roman street food, a suppli. This particular one consisted of rice in a rich tomato sauce with a generous amount of mozzarella at the centre. Gorgeous. Elsewhere, we also tried a cacio e pepe version; deep fried cheesy pasta is just as dirty and delicious as you might expect.

Testaccio market is a must visit for a foodie in the city. We spent a very pleasant hour or so drinking wine and eating cheese at one particular stall, and also bought a few bits to take home including a fabulous deli meat called Ciauscolo, which is best described as a sort of spreadable Mortadella. 

This gelato is from a shop called Torce. It has been awarded three cones, which is the ice cream equivalent of three Michelin Stars and it was absolutely divine. Our only sadness was that we didn't have time to try more than a few flavours (but definitely one to seek out and revisit in the future). On A's advice I tried the vanilla (the benchmark of the true gelato master), paired with a beautifully sharp and vivid scoop of raspberry. D went pistachio, strawberry and, in a stroke of maverick genius, cream of habanero chilli (some of the flavours were a little...eccentric). Magnifico. 

Weekend eats (and kitchen talk) - April 2023

As I mentioned in my last but one post, we recently had some major construction work done on the back of our house, which included completely reinventing our formerly tiny kitchen. Previously, we had a fairly large (for a bog-standard 1930s semi) dining room which had a LOT of dead space, partly due to a very small and rather pointless back extension. At the same time, the kitchen was a small galley, with limited storage and limited surface space. It certainly wasn't comfortable for two people to cook in at the same time. The oven was ancient, and one of the five gas hobs hadn't worked in a decade (let's gently gloss over the reason why neither of us ever thought to get it repaired or, indeed, why the oven itself with many year's worth of baked on grime never found itself at the receiving end of a deep clean.) The surfaces themselves were appalling, the decor that peculiar shade of pale, sickly yellowish beige that seemed to be so popular back in the seventies. In short, a bit of a nightmare, especially for people who enjoy cooking and want the kitchen to be at the centre of the home.

Circumstances at last allowed for us to rip it all out and start again. It has been a long, painful and ludicrously expensive process but we are now there, bar a little bit of final painting, and to say that I am delighted is an understatement.

From this...

To this:

Isn't it lovely?

I'll admit, though, I've found it a tiny bit difficult to get into the swing of cooking in the new space. It doesn't really feel completely mine yet and I'm a bit nervous about making a mess. So D has done most of the heavy lifting, cookery speaking, so far. This weekend was the first time I really started to relax and enjoy it a little bit more. I made floury buns and coleslaw to accompany some excellent hotdog sausages on Saturday evening, and on Sunday we had a joyous Welsh rarebit for breakfast and bacon chops with mustard mash, smoky creamed spinach and roasted asparagus for supper and it was all very, very nice indeed. 

Inver in springtime

A quick trip up to Scotland to blow out some cobwebs this weekend. A brief sojourn in Carlisle (not a place I would recommend as a foodie destination, but it does boast the most splendiforous secondhand bookshop) on the way to a night at our beloved Inver, a fabulous restaurant with rooms cum sanctuary that looks out over Loch Fyne. I'm sure I've written about it before, and if I haven't then mea culpa indeed because it is one of our very favourite places to eat.

The chef there has done stages in all manner of high-end places, including a (practically obligatory nowadays) stint at Noma. And the kind of food she cooks is very much of the same sort of sensibility - this is food that is seasonal and local and ingredient-centric but with the odd little twist or flourish that makes you go "Hmmmm" and then, more often than not, "Yum." It can be challenging sometimes, the combinations are unusual, but we have never been disappointed by the food in the five years that we have been making the trip.

This, I think, was the first time that we have been to Inver in the spring and the menu was heaving with glorious shellfish which very much floated our boats.

Snacks to start - oysters in sea buckthorn oil, cured mackerel, cockles in a pickled gel, crab on barley bannock. Fresh and lip smacking, and slipped down very easily with a glass of chilled fizz.

The garden plate - literally, greens from the garden (here, kale and goosefoot) which had just been shown the grill to give a hint of char and then served with a miso mayonnaise which rich sweetness. Makes one see the point of vegetables when they're served like this.

The Scallop and langoustine were so fresh and sweet that they required no intervention from the kitchen - served raw, they melted in the mouth, while the accompanying salad of young broccoli added crunch and a slight bitterness.

The dish of the night - brown crab meat on a buttery celeriac terrine, a salad of apple and white crab and then a creamy fermented celeriac sauce of dreams. It looks so modest in the photo; it tasted absolutely heavenly. Balanced to perfection - and I often find brown crab dishes to be too rich and sickly for my palate.

A feast of pig - loin, head, glazed belly and garlicky sausage with a zingy pickled celery and fennel salad to wake up the palate in between glorious, fatty mouthfuls.

Lanark blue cheese with chicory, chicory jam and gingerbread. I love it when restaurants only serve one cheese for the cheese course, especially when the treatment is so thoughtful and surprisingly delicious. 

A quick palate cleanser of blood orange and beeswax. I loved this, by turns bitter and sweet; D found the texture of the candied blood orange a little challenging.

Poached pear with walnut ice cream and walnut streusel and a sauce of pear juice shot through with the warmth of ginger and pepper. Another very unassuming looking dish that delivered fabulous alternating layers of succulence and spice.

Petits fours: chocolate cream on sea lettuce (frankly, challenging) and beautifully warm madeleines dusted with bay sugar (not in the least challenging; could have inhaled a bucketful even after a full meal).

Of all the meals we have had at Inver, this may have been the best yet. We are already plotting the next trip.

Inver Restaurant

Strathlachan

Strachur

Argyll & Bute

PA27 8BU

01369 860537