Vienna - cake for breakfast

We have just had the briefest of sojourns in Vienna - three nights, two and a half days, and it wasn't nearly long enough. Usually after a holiday, I am ready to come home but this time...I would quite happily have stayed, even if just for another day or so. What a city! The architecture in the first district is, I think, the most beautiful and spectacular that I have seen anywhere in the world with a new delight around every single corner. 

Of course, being us, greedy as sin, our top priorities nearly all involved consumption of some sort or another. And yes, we did indeed have cake for breakfast. Twice.

The first - at Cafe Demel. This is one of two places that claims to have invented the famous Sachertorte and there is a permanent queue outside for both the cafe and the shop. It's just like you imagine a Viennese coffee shop to be though; ornate and twee at the same time. We breakfasted like kings (or emperors) on the aforementioned Sachertorte, apple strudel and a speciality of the house: Kaiserschmarrn. This last dish was our favourite - fluffy pancakes, torn up into scraps and dusted with sugar, served with apples, raisins and a side of stewed plums. So delicious! I'm going to try and make this at home (there are recipes online although I've not seen one yet that tucks spiced apple in amongst the pancake pieces).

The Sachertorte was...ok. The flavour combination of chocolate and apricot jam is lovely. The rich, chocolate icing was...well, rich and chocolatey although not as shiny as we were expecting (D clearly has absorbed some Bake Off lingo as he wondered out loud where the "mirror glaze" was to be found). And the cake was ever so slightly on the dry side - perhaps deliberately so, as it is served with cream and the moisture was provided by this, the jam and the coating. But, still, onwards.

The Hotel Sacher was just as gloriously Disney-esque inside as Demel, with be-suited waiters and a sweep of red carpeted stairs up to the dining room. Here we breakfasted slightly more sensibly - in that we had actual Viennese breakfast food rather than just cake. But, even so, along with a delicious bread, cheese and meat platter, the Viennese breakfast comes with a Sacher cube (Sachertorte in miniature form). D rather confused the waiter by asking for a slice of torte as well. He didn't feel that the cube would offer true like for like comparison.

Do you know - again it was only ok, and for the exact same reasons. In fact, there seemed to be practically no difference between the two although obviously impossible to fully tell without a side by side taste test. 

Regard that glorious meat and cheese plate, though! The truffled ham, in particular, was fantastic. 

So - Sachertorte ticked off the list - underwhelming, but only slightly so. Kaiserschmarrn introduced to the repertoire - happy days. Ridiculous practice of eating cake for breakfast - not to be encouraged in the normal run of things. 

The world opens...Foodie in Paris

I celebrated a big birthday during the first December of the pandemic. One of those big ones that end with a zero and mean, unless you're a better man than me, you feel like spending the day in bed drinking wine and weeping at the passing of time and general futility of existence. It was not a good time to celebrate a birthday although I have to say that my lovely husband and Mum and Dad pulled out a number of stops to make sure that the day was well marked. Still, we had originally planned to celebrate with a trip to Paris. And D was determined to make sure that we made it, even if a bit late. So it was, he colluded with the parentals, and arranged a surprise trip to take place in late January 22. When it came to it, it was a close run thing as to whether or not we'd be able to go given that the French borders didn't open until a couple of weeks before, but go we did and, just like that, the world (or, rather, my world) seemed to be a little more open again.

The Eiffel Tower...as seen from the Pont des Arts

I adore Paris and think it lays claim to being the most beautiful city in the world (although I am easily swayed). And, it goes without saying, that if you enjoy good food and wine it is an absolute embarrassment of riches - although always worth doing your research since, as with every major city, it is easy to fall into over priced and underwhelming tourist traps. D takes his holiday research very seriously, and we had a detailed itinerary which mainly consisted of restaurants and places to buy food.

Of the four main meals, we had one disappointment. Benoit, a one Michelin starred outpost of the Alain Ducasse empire, serves up proper, high end, classical bistro fare, of that there is no doubt. But it is expensive. The wine list is eye watering. And the service was lacking throughout to the extent that after a 90 minute wait, we cancelled desserts and demanded the bill (and had to do so three times before the message got through). Perhaps we caught them on a bad night (although we clocked that the tables around us did not seem to be having any issues) but we won't be returning. There are plenty other of places to visit.

Like Frenchie, which I think was probably my favourite new find of the trip and one I would urge you to seek out if you find yourself there. It's tiny - maybe twenty or so covers crammed into a limited space - and, historically, quite difficult to book. It's one of those places where you get what you're given but, as soon as the first dishes arrive, you don't care because you know you're in the safest of safe hands. 

We weren't even given a copy of the menu at the end, so I have to rely on my phone notes which mainly consist of exclamation marks and yummy words. I do know that our top dish was one of butternut squash gnocchi, sitting on a butternut squash puree and topped with a crisp crumb and a lardo emulsion. There were plenty of familiar flavours - squash, bacon, sage, garlic but it was the contrast of textures that really made the dish. The gnocchi had, I think, been pan fried after steaming so that, while soft and yielding in the middle, were almost toffee like on the outside. There was crunch and velvet, all in one mouthful. A really fine example of modern cooking, with a seasonal vegetable taking centre stage.

Squash!

The dessert also made for a very happy pair of gluttons - peanut sable, chocolate ganache, cocoa crisps, peanut ice cream and a touch of salted caramel. Yes, it was a high end Snickers. But again, it was the playfully contrasting textures that really elevated this classic combinations of flavours. We ate it mostly in silence and then D, surveying his empty plate, declared that a chocolate and peanut dessert is probably his favourite sort of dessert. Bold words. We seldom commit to favourites in our household.

Chocolate and peanut!

We also revisited a favourite venue from our last trip - the gorgeous Cinq Mars, which is located very close to the Musee D'Orsay, tucked away down a quiet, unassuming street. Another classic bistro but without an offensive price tag. Unfortunately, I can't find the website to link at the moment but a quick Google search will find it. The terrine starter is worth the trip alone (they bring along the serving bowl and allow you to help yourself. Suffice to say that D got through an entire basket of bread taking full advantage of this). 

Terrine!

The service was charming and the wine list comprehensive. It's really the kind of thing you (or rather I) imagine when I close my eyes and think about dining in the fictional Paris where the moon is always full and a plaintive accordion is always playing a few streets away.

A brief escape

Usually, D and I manage to mistime everything but the gods were obviously smiling on us last week as we sneaked in a few glorious days in Scotland before the country heads back into lockdown. 

We've really toed the line this year, and have barely left the house, let alone ventured abroad. We had one night in Whitby back in September, and one lunch at our beloved Reliance a few weeks ago, and that's been pretty much it. Both of us are cautious by nature anyway, and given that we've been able to work fulltime from home, it seemed foolish to tempt fate in other ways. But, increasingly, we were getting cabin fever, and the opportunity to escape for a few days, in celebration of D's birthday, was just too good to pass up.

On Friday night, we dined at the wonderful restaurant, Inver. We first went last year and I can't see that I ever blogged about it - so I think it only fair to let it have its own post.

For the rest of the time, we mainly contented ourselves with eating glorious seafood. We were staying in a cottage on the shores of Loch Fyne, which is a name that may well be familiar to you from the restaurant chain. We went to the original Loch Fyne oyster bar and, well, you see for yourselves...

D loves a seafood platter and this one was incredibly good value, featuring a vast array of mussels, clams, langoustine, oysters, crab and lobster for £60. Me, I don't tend to go in for platters so much, but I couldn't resist sampling some oysters and it turns out that if you add a bit of smoked cheese and chilli sauce and whack them under the grill they are just as delicious, in their own way, as if you go for the naked-but-for-a-slick-of-shallot-vinaigrette version.

We spent a good few hours mooching round the little town on Inveraray which boasts not only a castle but an extremely interesting and well preserved jail and courtroom experience as well. In between learning about prisoners, and buying old fashioned sweets on the tiny high street, we repaired to the Brambles Cafe & Bistro, which did an excellent line in breakfasts and cake. In fact, D celebrated the day of his birth with a vast slab of apple and bramble pie, and wore an expression of unashamed glee throughout the consumption of the same.

It rained pretty much continuously, which, given the unremittingly gloomy news coming through, began to feel like pathetic fallacy. But then, on our last day there, the sun fought back and the most glorious rainbow appeared in the sky, soaring up over the grey expanse of loch. Which I take as a timely reminder of the Dolly Parton quotation - if you want that rainbow, you do have to put up with the rain. My goodness, but we've had some rain this year, haven't we? But there is still loveliness and beauty out there and I hope that all of us can hold onto that as we move into the darkest days of winter. 

Meat, then seven veg

Greetings Earthlings! The year is disappearing so fast and it has been the quietest ever on my little blog so my end of year report is likely to say must do better. Sigh.

We are not (that) long back from Berlin and we had a wonderful time - there’s definitely a post in that. And WW have, apparently, changed their plan again and I sort of want to find out how and then do a post on THAT but then...I suspect the WW ship has long since sailed for me. Perhaps I need to rename the blog - any bright ideas? Cooking with Cats quite appeals; then I would have a legitimate reason to stick up pictures of my beloved Minx for no particular reason. But as a name it doesn’t make any sense. Why would someone be cooking with cats? Are the cats actually helping out in the kitchen or just looking on reproachfully and bemoaning the lack of attention? Is it possible that the name would be open to misinterpretation and people would assume that I was making dishes out of cats? I mean, the Internet has its Dark Corners and I would hate to attract someone who would make that kind of assumption but...

Anyway, the meat in the blog post title refers to the food we ate in Berlin. Which was fab - I loved it! But wow, not a cuisine for vegetarians. To make up for it, we have just planned out seven days of entirely vegetarian meals. At this time of year, some of the veggie dishes that I am drawn towards are certainly too full of cheese and butter to count as strictly health food but that isn’t really the point of the exercise. I adore vegetarian food (although, for me, vegan will always be a bit too far) but I want to eat food that isn’t trying to pretend it’s something that it’s not if you see what I mean? Dishes that are glorious in their own right. Here’s what we’re doing:

Monday: roast root veg and pearl barley soup

Tuesday: pasta alla Norma - a gorgeous dish which combines a rich tomato sauce with aubergine, roasted until it just starts to melt through with a smoky flourish

Wednesday: “Arabbiata” pizza - basically, cheese and tomato but the tomato element is spicy with chilli as garlic. I’ll be topping this with lightly wilted rocket

Thursday: Ottolenghi’s ultimate winter couscous. Well, there had to be an Ottolenghi dish on there. And this is one of our favourites. The recipe is here if you don’t have a copy of “Plenty” on your bookshelves

Friday: Vegetarian dirty rice (another Ottolenghi dish) with corn maque choux (basically, sweet corn cooked in cream and spice).

Saturday: Mushroom curry, creamy chickpea and spinach curry, pilau rice, flatbread and Strictly on the telly. Bliss.

Sunday: Cauli cheese pie with mashed potatoes and Parmesan roasted parsnips. A cheese fest to end the week!

Back soon with...well, an account of Berlin (alternatively titled Pictures of Pork).

Hello from Mull

So I promise to blog more regularly, leave you with the recipe for a truly excellent curry that FAILS TO LIST ONE OF THE KEY INGREDIENTS (thanks, Beth) and then disappear again in a puff of smoke.

The good news is a) the medication that I’m taking gives me a NORMAL DIGESTIVE SYSTEM. I cannot possibly convey to you how exciting that is after over a year of being nervous whenever I had to eat curry in public. And b) I am currently on holiday which is lovely. I write this from the flat we always take in Tobermory. There is a view across the harbour from the window. There is crappy television on the set. It is not long after seven and we are in PJs and drinking wine. We consumed rather a lot of seafood at lunchtime. Bliss.

I’ll be back soon, especially because I want to fill you all in on the most wonderful meal we had on the way up here, at a restaurant that sits right on the shore of Loch Fyne. In the meantime, Tobermory Cat (Ledaig to his friends) sends greetings.

Foodie abroad: Il Ridotto, Venice

For D's 50th birthday we hoped that we would find somewhere pretty special to eat, but given that we were in an unknown city we had to choose somewhere on spec and hope for the best.  Fortunately, Il Ridotto turned out to be one of the most memorable meals that we've ever had, numbering right up there with our experiences at Eleven Madison Park in New York and Five Senses in Barcelona.

It is not, however, a restaurant that I would recommend unreservedly to everyone and in trying to explain why I will probably come across as unbearably patronising.  But the thing is, different people want different things when they eat out, especially when they are paying several hundred pounds to do so.  Some of the dishes at Il Ridotto were extremely challenging - if straightforward, classically executed deliciousness is your bag then I might tentatively suggest you go elsewhere.

Perhaps if I describe a couple of the more out there dishes, you'll see what I mean.  The first thing that was brought out to us, for example.  A smoked mussel served in its shell with...creme brulee.  Not some sort of savoury take on a creme brulee but an actually, vanilla flecked custard with a crispy layer of sugar.  When it arrived, I laughed rather nervously.  When I had eaten it the laugh was one of genuine delight.  It was smoky and sweet and salty and strange.  I have never had anything like it.

Or there was the first dessert which was topped off with black truffle cream.  Not a subtle waft of truffle either but a full on, thwack you around the face, black truffle ice cream.  It sounds odd.  It tasted odd.  The first mouthful was confusing.  But gradually, as all the flavours came together the earthy funk of the truffle just worked with the sweetness of candied pumpkin and fire of ginger ice cream.

Some combinations were less controversial and just beautiful food done well.  A tangle of raw slivers of sea bass, lightly dressed with a touch of black garlic and studded with tiny caper berries (pictured). A risotto, again flavored with garlic but this time more vibrant, rendered a vivid green by the inclusion of sea vegetables then topped with a great flurry of black truffle. A perfectly cooked piece of hare.

As with many of the other great restaurants we have been lucky enough to visit, Il Ridotto is very strongly rooted in local traditions and dishes and much of what was served was a nod to the Venetian food heritage.  It was emphatically not classical though.  It was provocative and interesting and, sometimes, I was unsure whether I actually liked what I was eating (before deciding that I probably did).  We loved it and would not hesitate to return but, as I said, not for everyone and that's perfectly OK.  I must admit, if I could only ever visit one restaurant for the rest of my life, it's probably not the one that I would choose because, for me, challenging is great but traditional is what I crave in my quieter moments.  D might well think otherwise.

It was, though, a really wonderful place to celebrate such a special birthday and certainly a meal that we will not soon forget.

Foodie abroad: Venice (part 2)

I think the best thing to do in Venice is just to wander the streets and soak up the atmosphere. It’s a bit like being on a film set; at times it doesn’t feel real.

On the Wednesday, we struck out with the intention of tracking down Venice’s best cicchetti. Cicchetti is the Venetian answer to tapas: small dishes designed to be eaten with a drink. In the majority of cases we found this tended to be something-on-toast.

Our favourite was a simple whipped salt cod on toasted brown bread which we enjoyed with glasses of Soave seated next to one of Venice’s many canals (pictured top right). It’s not elaborate food, I don’t think that it is supposed to be.

D’s birthday meal aside (which I will get to shortly) Venetian food, in general, was characterised by its simplicity for me. We went to a lovely little wine bar cum bistro for dinner on the last evening and I had the most beautiful piece of grilled bream served with nothing more than a drizzle of olive oil and some simply cooked vegetables. It was perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned and a wonderful celebration of a lovely piece of fish without any bells and whistles.

I liked Venice very much and the dinner at Il Ridotto will number as one of our best ever. But I did not find it to be a foodie destination in the same way as Paris or even Barcelona. It’s all about simple dishes served with bags of convivial charm in a location that feels slightly out of time.

Foodie abroad: Venice (part 1)

I actually wrote this post on Tuesday morning sitting outside the Doge’s palace but never got around to publishing it! Back home now and more travelling tales to follow.

It cannot be said that our introduction to Venice was an auspicious one. The night we arrived, the city was experiencing the worst flooding that it had seen in twenty years. Having made it successfully from the airport to the closest vaporetto stop to our hotel we then had to wade through several feet of water with our cases held up at waist height. For about ten minutes. In trainers. And then, once checked in, we had to wade down the road to get to a local restaurant. And sit there with water up to our ankles.

Luckily today, Tuesday, the flood waters have receded and things are back to normal but the scars, and the damp trainers, remain. So my first piece of travel advice is: if you happen to travel to Venice in a flood, be sure and pack galoshes in your hand luggage.

And my second is: if you fly from Leeds Bradford airport do NOT consider having lunch in the cafe bar there. Go and get a sandwich from somewhere else and repair to the bar for wine. Otherwise you end up paying nearly £15 for this:

The world’s most indifferent fish finger sandwich.

Luckily, dinner made up for it (wet feet aside). D went for a seafood spaghetti to start:

Delicious but not quite as delicious as my ravioli al giorno. I wish I knew what went into this - some sort of blue cheese, I think, but so light and creamy with a hint of acidity from the (presumably) beetroot dressing.

I followed this with fegato all Veneziana - Venetian liver and onions - with polenta. It seemed appropriate and it was lovely. The liver was perfectly cooked, the onions sweet and soft. I am not the biggest fan of soft polenta but it seems that it is the most traditional accompaniment so went with the flow and actually quite enjoyed it (although the Brit in me thinks mash would have been better!)

We hit a Michelin starred joint for D’s birthday meal tonight so hopefully will be back with more foodie tales soon.

Revisits - Ruby Hunt and The Star Inn the Harbour

On Monday, D and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. And of course we did so by spending an entire weekend indulging our appetite for delicious food. We are consistent, at least, in our greed. It’s a shared obsession that is probably one of the primary reasons that we have managed to (more or less) stay together.

On Saturday night, we returned to our favourite restaurant of last year, Raby Hunt which is just outside Darlington. Holder of two Michelin stars it was a fantastic experience first time around (which you can read about here) and just as wonderful now. The only...I hesitate to use the word problem because it wasn’t the least bit problematic...was that many of the dishes on the set tasting menu were either the same or similar. As before, the signature razor clam with celeriac and almonds was a highlight:

And the kitchen’s pastry game is strong, especially when it comes to producing a chocolate and olive oil mousse which combines ethereal lightness with rich, cocoa filth:

But we both agreed that one of the nicest things we ate was, in fact, one of the few brand new dishes - a wagyu beef nigiri topped with sea urchin. Teapot, that was fabulous. The Japanese influence was, I think, a new direction for the kitchen and one I liked very much indeed:

It was a fantastic privilege to eat these amazing plates again but, given the plethora of other places out there which we are keen to try, and our limited funds, I would not be inclined to return for a good few years to allow time for a bit more variation to creep in. We discussed, as we drove away, whether one should prioritise the known and glorious or the unknown and potentially not-so glorious and reluctantly came down on the side of the latter. Although D intends to win the £110 million Euromillions Super Draw this week, at which stage it will become a moot point.

We then high tailed it across to Whitby, and Sunday found us on another revisit: The Star Inn the Harbour which I wrote about here.

Well, what a revelation. I don’t think it had been long open when we visited in April and the kitchen has really flourished since then. We liked it well enough last time round but this time a couple of dishes blew us away. A lobster and summer truffle mac and cheese was superlatively good:

And D was in raptures over his coley with a light curry sauce, declaring said sauce one of the nicest things he has eaten all year:

We will whisk a veil over a slightly over chilled dessert (we did feed back to the kitchen via our absolutely charming waiter) and say, rather, that overall we were seriously impressed and pleased to see that the wonderful produce from this corner of the Yorkshire coast finally has a restaurant that can do it proper credit.

Summer in the city - a weekend round-up

I didn’t want to go down to London last weekend, I’ll be totally honest. I was nervous about being away from home – from D, from the cat, from familiar surroundings - and, bluntly, from my bathroom. I also did not want to have to spend a weekend guestimating points just a few days in to my newest and shiniest WW attempt.

I had more or less made up my mind not to go but D wasn’t having any of it. I don’t envy him much of the time; living with someone who is very anxious must be exhausting. You constantly have to be strong for them, to push them to overcome their entirely irrational fears. So I was effectively frogmarched on to the bus on Saturday morning – but, in the end, all was well and I had a lovely time and have come back with that new sense of confidence which comes from venturing outside the comfort zone. Thank you, D.

Of course, the fact remains that I have two days where my tracker may be way, way off. Well, actually, I think that I am fine for Sunday since we ate in and I was able to find all food items in the catalogue. I winced a bit that the innocent looking honey and seed rolls that we had for lunch turned out to be 9 Smart Points, but heigh-ho, that’s what weeklies are for.

Saturday night required a lot more guesswork, but whether I’m under or over, the meal itself was worth it. We went to a restaurant called Ember Yard in Fitzrovia and it was LOVELY - especially gratifying given that I suggested it. It’s a menu of small plates with a Spanish and Italian slant – some of the dishes are recognisable from the typical tapas repertoire, others not so much. Highlights included (surprisingly) chargrilled flatbread with thyme and smoked butter (so good we immediately ordered another) and a lovely special of sea bass with ajo blanco.

Seabass!

Bread!

I tried a little bit of everything, but stuck to water rather than indulging in wine or cocktails and then, in lieu of a dessert (tough going – the churros looked amazing) I ordered a double espresso and a single dark chocolate and Pedro Ximenez truffle (which item I thought was a really clever addition to the dessert menu). A divine full stop to the meal.

Truffle!

Also – if you’ll forgive me ditching the food talk for a minute – we went to the open air theatre in Regent’s Park, to see a production of “As You Like It” which was brilliant! Such a funny, sweet, silly rendering of the play, which I hitherto hadn’t considered one my favourite of Shakespeare’s comedies. The musical settings were a little bit cheesy but the cast carried them off with aplomb and the whole thing was an absolute joy. I’ve never seen a bad production there – and it’s a lovely venue if the weather holds out. If you’re London based and find yourself at a loose end, get thee hence.

After returning in such a good mood, I am not exactly sure what misguided impulse compelled me to jump on the bathroom scales yesterday morning. I haven’t weighed myself on them for a while, so I have no idea how my weight today relates to my official WI last Wednesday. If I was expecting to see a large drop after a whole four days of counting, I was doomed to disappointment. Not for nothing does lovely Peridot call them the Scales of Doom, because I immediately felt sulky and annoyed and resentful. The answer is clear – official weigh ins ONLY from now on and a focus on progress rather than perfection.

Chips, cheese, chips and cheese

Heavy snow at the end of last week meant that we were slightly worried about the journey up to Mull. Luckily, the roads were clear but we were treated to stunning views like this:

It's been grey skies and rain for most of our time here; fortunately we don't come to Scotland for the weather. And, at last, this morning we have been treated to the clearest of blue skies and an island awash with winter sunshine.

As I mentioned in my last post, not much is open here. And the places that are open are offering somewhat limited menus. Which means for the last week we have basically been eating things accompanied by chips or covered with cheese.

On one occasion I ordered a macaroni cheese and it came WITH CHIPS. Just...why? Actually, the real question is why did I eat most of them...

I think it's safe to say that the 2.4 lbs I lost during the first two weeks of the year will be back on Monday and they may be bringing a couple of friends with them. Ah well. It's been a lovely, relaxing break but I am well and truly stodged out which means that I am positively looking forward to a couple of days of fasting next week (remind me of that when I'm drooping and moaning on Monday!)

Home and Away

Hurrah for the weekend!  Especially hurrah for this coming weekend which will see D and I head for the beautiful Lake District to celebrate our sixth wedding anniversary.

Six years!  Yes, I know, I'm surprised too.  Of course, a year of that we spent apart so perhaps it doesn't really count (although given that we were the least separated separated couple ever I think there's probably an argument to be had either way).  But still, it's a good run and very deserving of a bit of a bash.

We're actually going to be having dinner on the day at the Lake Road Kitchen and I can't wait to report back to you on that.  The reviews have been glowing, everything I've read or seen about the food there has got me salivating - I think that we are in for a real treat.

Not only that, but we are staying at The Drunken Duck which I'm sure that I have written about before.  It's a fabulous place and also happens to serve fabulous food so I'm going to be ensuring that I save room for an excellent breakfast.  We might need to get out and do some brisk walking to work up a bit of an appetite, but given the part of the world in which we will find ourselves, that will be no particular hardship.

Closer to home, we went for a meal at one of our local gems the other week.  Zucco serves kind of Italian tapas stuff - very much in the vein of Russell Norman's Polpo chain, and we are so lucky to have it on our doorstep.  The pictures are of two of our favourite dishes - a salt cod ravioli which came strewn with sage and glistening with buttery, winey juices and a whole baby Dover sole, cooked to perfection and drenched in a gorgeous caper butter.  It's not pushing any culinary boundaries but it is the kind of food that makes you grin broadly and use your finger to wipe the plate.

Have a gorgeous weekend, folks, and I look forward to providing a full account of our adventures next week.

Further foodie notes on Brighton

We decided to visit Brighton on something of a whim. Despite growing up in deepest, darkest Essex I don’t really know the South coast that well at all – my family always headed North for holidays, and that remains my instinct even as an adult. But Stewart Lee was playing a few dates down there and we fancied doing something a bit different, so off we went. It’s good to expand your horizons.

Brighton is actually a city - it was granted city status by the Queen during her jubilee - and, it seemed to me, a rather affluent one.  It smelled like it had been on the receiving end of time, care and money, in stark contrast to some of the Northern seaside towns that I have visited in recent years that are dying on their arse.  In addition, Brighton has benefited from the influx of students from not one but two universities.  There was a definite buzz to the place and the juxtaposition of the beautifully elegant Georgian architecture and the messy vibrancy of youth culture made for a fascinating melting pot of a place. 

As I mentioned in my previous post, it turns out that Brighton is quite the foodie destination which is not something that factored into our initial considerations. Although like any UK city it had its fair share of chain yawnfests, there was a pleasing spread of independents as well offering a range of foodstuffs at a range of price points.

First off, we have Bincho Yakitori does not have the most user friendly website in the world, but if you’re interested in Japanese bar food (and who isn’t?) then definitely one to check out. The chicken heart yakitori skewers were one of D’s favourite dishes of the trip.

I had heard good things about the vegetarian scene (if such a word can be used in the context) and we ended up having lunch in one of Brighton's oldest vegetarian restaurants, Food For Friends.  It was fun.  Nothing earth shatteringly amazing perhaps but an interesting menu that resisted tumbling into standard fare or cliché and hearty portions of tasty food.  I would quite like to recreate my halloumi, mango, avocado and cashew nut salad at home. 

Given our proximity to the sea, we were determined to make as much as we could of the local seafood and it didn’t disappoint. At Riddle and Finns, D, a crustacea afficionado, was presented with his biggest shellfish platter to date, all for a ridiculously reasonable £30 - the picture below does not do it any sort of justice, but it turns out that it is hard to photograph something so huge without getting one or other of us in shot.  And, as you know, this blog is a mug free zone.  Anyway, he reports that the whelks were a little bit on the chewy side but that everything else was perfect and he was particularly taken with the dinky little winkle picker that was provided alongside the cutlery  In general, the fish cookery here was exemplary and the menu boasted a good range of dishes albeit all variations on a theme of classic. The service was friendly but haphazard – nothing, however, that an unexpected glass of limoncello from the restaurant manager couldn’t fix.

The following evening we headed to the Tempest Bar for some rather up market pub grub - check out the stunning langoustines in the picture; these tasted even better than they look.  On a Saturday night, this was predominantly a venue for younger and trendier people than ourselves, but we were quite content in our little booth with our seafood and several decent bottles of white.  I really liked it here: the bar staff were young and cute and charming and the food was delicious (in addition to the langoustines we indulged in popcorn mussels and fire kraken squid - bar snacks to put pork scratchings and packet of peanuts to shame). 

You always know that you've had a good trip when you start talking about "next time".  "Next time we'll try this...go there...do that..." We were next timing Brighton before we had even left and writing up this post has made me start it again.  Good times.

Bincho Yakitori: 63 Preston Street, Brighton, 01273 779021
Food For Friends: 17-18 Prince Albert Street, Brighton, 01273 202310
Riddle and Finns: 139 Kings Road Arches, Brighton, 01273 721667
The Tempest Inn: 159-161 Kings Road Arches, Brighton, 01273 770505

64 Degrees, Brighton

We were told, while on a walking tour of Brighton, that the seaside city has more restaurants than anywhere else in the country outside of London. Whether this is in actual terms or just per capita, it is undoubtedly true that Brightonians take their food pretty seriously and I would definitely recommend it as a destination for people who like to eat.

In fact, an early contender for Meal of the Year emerged while we were there and let me tell you – whichever other restaurants I happen to visit in 2017 have an awful lot to live up to. Were it Leeds based, 64 Degrees would have reduced D and I to penury. I am almost glad that it is so far away. The restaurant is a tiny, casual space dominated by the open kitchen. You eat at close quarters to your neighbours; the layout is such that litheness is a prerequisite of the waiting staff. It verges on the claustrophobic which can make this anxious diner a little uncomfortable. But the moment that the first plate arrived at the table all such considerations were entirely forgotten.

The menu consists of twelve dishes: four meat, four vegetarian, four fish, all priced between £7.50 and £14. The recommendation is up to six plates between a couple, which allows each partner to make one choice from each category; to be honest, I reckon that we could have managed one or two more as the portion sizes were not large. It is worth noting that the menu really does change daily – we glanced at it the day prior to dining there and a number of the dishes changed or disappeared. So if something catches your eye, order it. You may not get a second chance.

We started with octopus croquettes, rich and sweet accompanied by a Srirachia yoghurt and a spritz of lime to add fire and tang. The bar was set high and things only got better from there. Tagliatelle came doused in butter and truffle, draped with the golden ooze of an egg yolk. Squid, perfectly cooked served on the dreamiest, creamiest celeriac puree that you can imagine. Butternut squash, its sweetness balanced by the lactic cloud of accompanying goats cheese. All of these had us licking the plates.

Croquettes

Then came the meat, and the bar disappeared up into the ether. Firstly, a pork dish served with kimchi, sour and hot, and charred chunks of chilli infused pineapple. D declared this the winner. But my favourite was a cube of lamb shoulder that disintegrated into a heap of tender strands as soon as the fork hovered over it, the meat then rolled up in blanched spinach leaves with spring onions and gochujang.

Pork with kimchi and pineapple

Lamb with spring onion and gochujang

If I’m being strictly, strictly honest, dessert, while delicious and very pretty (you go a long way to beat a combination of lemon and rhubarb) did not quite match the dizzy heights of the savoury courses.

Lemon and rhubarb

And, what is interesting as I write about this a week or so after the meal itself is that the flavour combinations, when written down, sound slightly…pedestrian, perhaps? Flat? Which couldn’t be further from the reality of the food itself which was, to a bite, superlative. I particularly enjoyed the use of Asian flavours to punctuate dishes without feeling gimmicky or trendy or detracting from not only the quality of the ingredients, but also the precision with which they had been prepared. When the bill arrived, I was astonished at the value of the meal. Then I discovered that they’d missed off some of the drinks. Even so, this was still pretty decent value for food of this calibre and we are already trying to figure out if we can fit in another trip to Brighton later this year to experience more of this glorious little kitchen.