Jonathan Day

I broadly agree with Jon -- this is an outstanding area for food shops. It's not so good for restaurants. Osteria Antica Bologna, once something of a "draw" for the area, seems to have dissolved into murky mediocrity. Ergens, a Turkish restaurant, just opened on Battersea Rise. We went there with high expectations, but found that the food was almost inedible. Nikson's, at the bottom of Northcote Road, started out with energy and ambition (they made all their own stocks) but seems to have slipped into conventional food. But the food shops are what make this area. Walking down Northcote Road, you'll find -- Independent wine shop, don't recall the name (specialist in Italian wines) Philglass and Swiggott, mentioned above -- one of the best independent wine shops in London Lighthouse Bakery (artisanal) Hamish Johnston -- cheese shop Organic grocery, don't recall the name Salumeria Napoli -- Italian deli Dove's -- the butcher with the queue mentioned above. Great meats, including superb house-made ham, meat pies, frozen stocks. The Hive -- honey specialist La Cuisiniere -- cookware shop Specialist tea shop (don't recall the name) Branch of Whittard's -- coffee and tea shop Dandelion -- natural food shop, but with lots of interesting flours, meals and other grains Stefano Cavallini -- more upscale Italian deli Northcote patisserie There are several other wine shops, another butcher, several general grocery stores, two fishmongers on Northcote Road. On many mornings the market stalls bring excellent vegetables, fruits, and some interesting breads. There's an outstanding fishmonger, Moxon's, at Clapham South, not far away. You can get on very well in the area without ever visiting a supermarket, though there are decent supermarkets nearby, e.g. a Waitrose that recently opened on Garratt Lane. Buy your meat, fish, fruit and veg from the independents and use a service like Ocado for "chemicals" -- washing up liquid, toilet rolls, etc. Restaurants we enjoy: Chez Bruce, Bellevue Road Pizza Metro (wood burning oven), Battersea Rise Gourmet Burger Kitchen Pizza by the slice (don't recall the name) Bar Meze, Northcote Road Village, Lebanese restaurant on the Queenstown Road There are new places opening every week. Mini Mundus, a new French restaurant, has recently opened on Trinity Road. We haven't tried it yet.

Does this mean that you simply whisk whole eggs? Or do you separate yolks and whites, whisk the whites into peaks and then fold in the yolks? Does this base make a rather light and "airy" ice cream? I have usually aimed for a denser mixture, but your method looks worth trying and I'm intrigued by the sesame paste idea. I use a Musso "Lussino" machine which has an integral freezer.

OC, when you say "plain ice cream base" do you mean a custard mixture? Equal proportions of milk and double cream? How sweet is your "plain ice cream base"?

I stayed and dined at Auberge de la Madone many years ago. It was excellent, and the rooms were very comfortable. They were brilliant with our son, who was perhaps 18 months old at the time -- he's now 15! He was hungry, it was too early for us to eat, so they brought him a steaming dish of nouilles au beurre et au parmesan; he scarfed this and went happily to sleep. We went out onto the terrace and had drinks and a delicious dinner. If you don't spend the night, it may be better to have lunch there -- the numerous "lacets" (hairpin turns) would be tough to drive after dinner and wine. Friends tell me that the food is still good, but I haven't got recent information. A few of the shops in Gourdon have genuinely interesting products. Most are tourist spots, though. I've since been to the museum and can confirm Robert's warm recommendation. If you enjoy hiking, Gourdon can be a starting point for a number of interesting walks, ranging from the easy to the challenging. Get a hiking guide (Guide de la Randonnée), free at any tourist office. If you take the chemin du paradis (path of heaven), though, be careful -- one wrong turn and you end up walking next to a rusty iron pipe and through damp caves: more like a chemin de l'enfer (path of hell).

I had the same reaction -- indeed if a client hadn't chosen this place I would have scanned the menu and walked right by. I was positively surprised. The leeks on the haddock tart, for example, are cut fine and deep fried, giving the tart a lightness and lift that the usual preparation wouldn't have had. They seem to have a few bottles "off list" -- Marina -- when did you review Nathalie? I got the impression that they had problems when they first opened, a couple of years ago, and I think I found one negative review from 2002 or 2003. Do you ever revisit places where you have had bad or indifferent meals? (Note that, as I said above, we were the only two people in the restaurant for lunch! So perhaps this success was a case of extreme non-pressure on the part of the restaurant. But I don't think so -- the cooking was confident and good, and I'm betting that Eric can do well with a fuller house.)

How in the world I missed this place, I don't know, especially because it's only a few blocks from where I work. But at least I'm not the only eGulleter who failed to discover Nathalie. So, apparently, have many of the dailies. "Nathalie" is a tiny restaurant in South Ken. It's run by a couple: Eric Chatroux is the chef, Anne looks after the business side. There's one front-of-house/waiter. That's it. The lunch I had today was, simply, outstanding: fresh ingredients, thoughtfully prepared. We drank an interesting white Graves. Vanilla and chocolate pots-de-creme were beautifully flavoured. The cheese plate had a large selection, and every piece was in good condition. They offer, though we didn't try, a curious "French bento box", where you can choose 2 starters, 2 mains, a vegetable (we had lovely French beans today) and 1 dessert, all presented in small portions -- ₤14.50 at lunch. Eric said that they are swamped some evenings, quiet others. Lunch today was one of those quiet times -- the two of us were the only customers. If our lunch was typical, it can't have been because of the food, which was outstanding in quality and value. I asked whether Nathalie had just opened. No -- it had been there for two years. This kind of place is becoming rare, even in France. It's almost unheard of in London. Well worth a visit. It's at 3 Milner Street, London, SW3 2QA -- look it up using one of those mapping website, because it's in an odd part of the road.

I haven't been overwhelmed by any restaurant in Menton itself. There are some nice places in the villages near Menton, ranging from the Hostellerie Jerome in La Turbie to some small but good places in nearby towns. Not knowing the names of any of the places you refer to, I can't say. But how would these restaurants compare to Balzi Rossi, for example, or Baia Benjamin, or any of the smaller places across the border in Italy? If my experience of "Italianesque" food in the area is indicative, not very well. Well, here we get into the old arguments about whether there is a definitive category called "Italian" food (or "Provencal" food, for that matter); is Italian-American food a true variant of Italian food, etc.? And if that isn't enough, we could resurrect the Ingredients vs Technique debate...but let's not. I will say that most of the dishes I've eaten in Provence and on the Riviera, even in places that specialise in "cuisine du soleil" and the like, seem more "French" than "Italian" to me. Deep frying doesn't seem to be used as often in France, and sauces seem to be cooked longer and pushed into deeper and more "cooked" flavours. Fish and vegetables are often fresh in France but not shockingly so, as is more often the case in Italy. Risotti and pastas in France tend to be good but not wonderful. French presentations tend to be slightly more complex. Sometimes the French cuisine is very good, sometimes more enjoyable than the Italian, but the two aren't the same, even near the border.

Menton/Ventimiglia is a great test for theories of culinary diffusion, since the border is open and the climate virtually identical. People in Ventimiglia seem perfectly comfortable in French, and I would guess most of the Mentonnais can get on in Italian. Yet, as John observes, Italian cuisine in Menton is forgettable and French cuisine across the Italian border is scarce. Take a few steps and everything changes!

Crillon-le-Brave is right on the edge of the Mont Ventoux, so you'll find lots of producers of cote de Ventoux nearby. We visited when the place first opened; I remember a very pleasant day driving from one vineyard to another, tasting, buying...

Robert did return to Da Vittorio, and my wife and I had the pleasure of dining with the Browns there. What a wonderful place this is. We had the trionfo di crustacei e molluschi -- a giant platter of lobsters, langoustines, scallops, prawns, clams, etc., all steamed in a flavourful broth. Then a plate of seafood fritto misto, of astounding lightness, and a risotto of tiny calamari and fava beans. Everything was, simply, perfect: each item of seafood cooked exactly right, the risotto of perfect texture and balance. Bergamo, where Da Vittorio is located, is slightly off the main path of Italian tourist cities, but is well worth a visit. The area around Bergamo is flat, industrial and not very interesting, but the town itself is wonderful. The upper city is old and beautiful; two funicular railways connect it with the somewhat more commercial lower city. But even the lower city has some magnificent villas, and a large art museum, the Accademia Carrara, with some interesting old masters. Bergamo as a whole is large enough that it would reward several days of exploration. For those travelling from London, Ryanair fly from both Stansted and Luton to what they term "Milan" (Orio al Serio airport) but which is actually the local Bergamo airport, 3 km from the centre. In the upper city, stop at the Pasticceria Cavour, run by one of Vittorio's daughters -- another daughter works in the restaurant. Bergamo is in easy striking distance of Milan and of Lake Como, but the motorways are crowded, and these journeys may be better tackled by train. As noted in Robert's post, the restaurant is moving, but the staff were vague as to when, and even about where it would be. "It will be not far from here," said one. "Some time soon, maybe September", said another. Go to Bergamo and to Da Vittorio ... quickly, before things change. This is truly an exceptional restaurant, run by a warm and generous staff.

I would define 'molecular gastronomy' methods as cooking with direct and deliberate attention to the physical and chemical processes that are being used. As an example, here is a short article by Heston Blumenthal explaining not just how to make good mashed potatoes, but why it's done this way, and prescribing very specific temperatures at each step. He goes into more detail in his book. This, for me, would qualify as the use of MG. Jack is closer to the ongoing MG debate and may want to weigh in here. I don't know precisely what it means to say that 'it's not a concept, it's the application of technology'. In shorter words, MG is more about how you prepare foods than about what foods you prepare, or how you organise a menu. But, like many new technologies, MG opens up possibilities that weren't there before. I have generally heard 'avant garde cuisine' used to refer to unusual combinations or transformations, unexpected turns in menus or in the use of flavours or ingredients: mustard ice cream, snail porridge, etc. And I think it's fair to say that the influential London restaurants -- e.g. those in the Ramsay empire, or the Roux group, or the Ivy/Sheekey's/Wolseley group, or the River Cafe, or Mossiman's, or ... -- have been fairly traditional in their menus and dishes.

As ever, we're confusing avant garde with molecular gastronomy. It's possible to prepare perfectly "normal" food (fish & chips, blanquette de veau, etc.) using MG methods. Tom Aikens does all sorts of crazy things on a plate, but my impression is that his techniques aren't particularly influenced by MG. A few avant garde chefs (Blumenthal, Adria, Gagnaire) have been heavily influenced by MG, particularly via Herve This. The two aren't the same. Some chefs have found inspiration in using chemistry to change the appearance of foods -- see, e.g., the recent posts in the El Bulli thread. On location in London: my guess is that it's no accident that Grant Achatz didn't start in the centre of Chicago until he had established a reputation in the suburbs. On the back of that, and the acclaim that Trio brought him, it must have been easier for his backers to stump up the money for Alinea. The avant garde idea seems to have caught on in Chicago, which on its way to becoming something of a "cluster" for this kind of restaurant. Ultimately there will be staff moving from one restaurant to another, customers coming to Chicago to try several avant garde restaurants -- this is already happening. Think of Silicon Valley. I'll bet that the next avant garde restaurant would find it easier to get backing in Chicago. London restaurants, as pointed out above, bear heavy costs, and they have to cater to hungry tourists. And, the beginnings of a "cluster" haven't yet formed. So there are lots of Aberdeen Angus steakhouses here; but if you want avant garde food, you go to a place like Leeds or Bray.

A business dinner at Pearl last night, in a private room just off the bar. The food was surprisingly good -- I had that tomato consomme/cucumber sorbet starter described upthread, then the sauteed foie gras, then a pan-fried seabass, then a pre-dessert of yoghurt with a cassis granita, then cheeses. The cheeses came pre-selected -- there were 10 of us, several had the cheese, and it would have been disruptive and clumsy to wheel a cheese trolley into the fairly small private room. But the food, overall, was good -- the tomato consomme fresh and clean, the foie nicely sauteed, the seabass very flavourful, though a tad overdone. Even the cheeses were OK. Service was fine, except for a visit by a rather officious maitre-d (think Mr Bean with a French accent) who loudly interrupted a discussion to ask whether we approved of the food. The rest of the place looked deserted when I left. But it was 1030 pm on a Monday night, so this may be an inaccurate read. I hope so. Food and service this good deserve custom. Well worth a revisit.

I've just been to a cooking class at the Moulin de Mougins. This one was "autour d'agneau", things to do with lamb, and the instructor made a jus d'agneau. The technique was not unlike what Moby describes, but there were differences. He used lamb bones and lots of meat scraps, plus garlic and herbs. Once they had browned quite a bit, he added butter -- lots of butter, more butter than I could have imagined. He then browned the mixture in this butter until the meat was beautifully coloured. The aroma was heavenly. Then, he strained the whole thing, saving the butter, which had turned a light brown (noisette) colour. The meat, bones and vegetables went back into the pan, and he added fond blanc (white stock) and fond de veau (veal stock). He simmered this for a long time, then strained it thoroughly. The colour of the jus, by this time, was rich and brown, but he reduced it heavily. Then, at the last minute, he corrected the salt, and added back some of the butter, which he said held a lot of the flavour from the original browning. The resulting jus was rich, dark brown, and well flavoured but not heavy. I tried this later on, and it worked well. The flavour was good before the final butter went in, but the butter rounded it out and gave it depth. And because the butter had been removed from the original browning, it was easy to control the amount that went in, so that the jus wasn't overly fatty. A promising approach, I think.

I think Daniel's comment beautifully captures both the spirit and the detail of Isak Dinesen's story. This is about care, about levels of attention to detail in preparation and ingredients, setting, wines, etc., that made the dinner in the story transforming or sacramental. So for me, the notion from the websites that Melissa pointed to, that "caviar is too expensive, let's substitute beets and carrots"; "can't do quails, let's do chicken and mushrooms" somehow flies in the face of the spirit of the story. If quails are too hard to work with, caviar too expensive, and the neighbours would object to a turtle hanging outside your house, then make something else entirely -- consomme and a poached sole, perhaps -- but do it with the very finest ingredients and with care. That's more important than anything else in recreating the spirit of the story.

John Thorne, in Pot on the Fire, writes Thorne has it exactly right, as far as I am concerned: good toast is crisp, cooked all the way through without being burnt; for me this is more important than it being hot. Soggy toast, no matter how warm, isn't worth much. Crisp toast is a different substance to bread.If you toast over a fire, using a toasting fork, the product you get is crisp. Electric toasters don't do this well; most seem to brown the toast a bit and steam it. I find that the best approximation I can get to proper toast with a toaster is made by putting in the bread at a low setting and running it through several times until it is crisp all the way through. The toasting gadget on an Aga cooker (which holds the bread in a kind of cage) works reasonably well, though not as well as an open fire. So the point of British toast racks is to hold the bread while it crisps. You can also use toast racks to hold unpaid bills, while they crisp up and become even more unpaid.

My read, after a few lunches and dinners (and the odd breakfast and afternoon tea/coffee) at the Wolseley, is that it's a missed opportunity. The concept is a good one -- a bistro/cafe, open from breakfast to dinner, with a wide-ranging menu and a flexible style. The execution, especially in the kitchen but also front of house, doesn't quite match up. Some dishes have been very good -- I have enjoyed the tartare more than once. Grouse couldn't hold a candle to St John's. Afternoon coffee and tea service has been pleasant and generous. This place could be outstanding, but it isn't. I hope The Wolseley will keep trying, because it's a real plus to have a place like this in central London.

Exactly. My guess is that for many French cooks and diners, endives braised in beef or veal stock would count amongst dishes in the cuisine maigre or cuisine equilibrée (lighter foods) or cuisine de soleil (sunny, lighter, Mediterranean foods). They might even count as "vegetarian". Apart from specifically "bio" or "healthfood" restaurants I can't imagine what the French would do with the idea of "vegan" foods.

Here's another interesting excerpt from Helie's treatise. Unfortunately the e-book that this comes from (available on Gutenberg and many other online sources) has eliminated all of the accent marks. Menu double, gras et maigre Il y a un Angleterre, une Societe dont les membres ne mangent ni viande, ni poisson. Le president de cette Societe (Vegetarian Society) est tres riche et possede de grandes proprietes dans le Comte de Surrey, a six milles de Guildford, West Horsley. Il est le roi de la contree et se nomme Lord Lovelace. Maintes fois j'ai eu ce noble comte a diner au chateau, ce qui me permet de donner ici un specimen de ses repas. J'avais vingt-cinq couverts ... J'ai du servir son diner complet compose seulement de legumes, pendant que les autres convives mangeaient le leur, ainsi qu'on le verra par les menus annexes ci-contre. (Loose translation: There is a society in England whose members eat neither meat nor fish. The president of this Vegetarian Society is very rich and has a large property in Surrey. He's the king of the countryside and is called Lord Lovelace. I've several times invited this noble count to dinner at my chateau, so I can give you some idea of how he eats. I had 25 guests for dinner ... I had to serve Lord Lovelace his "full dinner" made up only of vegetables, while the other guests ate meat and fish dishes, as shown in the following menu.) MENU DOUBLE, GRAS ET MAIGRE Maigre (for one guest, served by a dedicated waiter) Puree de Crecy aux croutons Cepes de Bordeaux gratinees au Beurre Petites bouchees Creme d'Asperges Fonds d'Artichauts printaniers Souffle a la Parmentier au Beurre noisette Cardons a la Bechamel Punch a la Sultane Truffes a la Serviette Asperges a la Creme Salade a l'Italienne Timbale Pompadour Caroline de Fraises glacees Petits Souffles au Parmesan Complet (for the other 25 guests) Consomme aux Perles du Bresil Puree Saint-Germain Saumon sauce Genevoise Filets du Sole Norvegienne Blanchailles friture Creme de Volaille, Pointes d'Asperges Noisette d'agneau, puree de Champignons Filet de Boeuf Richelieu Poulardes soufflees a la Orloff Punch a la Sultane Cailles de vigne sur canape Aspic de foie gras a l'Isabelle Asperges a la Creme Timbale Pompadour Caroline de Fraises glacees Huitres soufflees Petites Tartelettes creme de Homard

I wonder whether all of this has something to do with different approaches to the "cuisine of abstinence" (cuisine maigre) -- the foods that a devout Catholic would serve and eat during the penitential seasons of Lent and Advent. The opposite of maigre is gras, hence "Mardi Gras", the Tuesday before Lent begins. Cuisine maigre, in France, includes fish and shellfish. Here are a few maigre menus from Auguste Helie's Traité General de la Cuisine Maigre (1897): (1) Potage Julienne Soles au beurre Vol-au-Vent de Gnochis Queues de Homard au Gratin Pommes meringuees a la Turque Sardines a la Diable (2) Sole au Vin blanc Timbale de Gnochis a la Creme Oeufs brouilles aux Champignons Langouste a la Parisienne Haricots verts sautes au Beurre Croutes aux Peches a la Ninon (3) Bisque de Homard au riz Fritures de Goujon de Seine Pain de Brochet a la Mariniere Pommes de terre a la Crapaudine Mousse de Violette voilee a la Suzon Petits bateaux d'Huitres souffles Notice the prevalence of fish and shellfish throughout. It's also interesting that menus (1) and (3) close with a "savoury" -- sardines or souffleed oysters -- something that I thought was unusual in French menu construction. I would think that a vegetarian who ate fish (pisco-vegetarian?) could dine very happily anywhere in France. None of these menus struck me as particularly penitential, though all are technically for use during "fasting" periods.

Bravo to your grandson -- I always eat an entire socca! Right -- the batter is similar but thinner to the one used for panisses. In both cases it's important to avoid lumps (grumeaux). The chickpea flour must be fresh, or the socca will be bitter, and the flavour of the olive oil comes though, so it's as well to choose a good one. Cooking in a wood fired oven gives the Socca a pleasantly crisp and slightly charred quality. But there are also Socca vendors on the roadside and in the Nice flower market who make a very good socca over a charcoal fire -- a large pan of thin metal heated over coals, without an oven. Franck Cerruti (now the chef at the ultrafancy Louis XV in Monaco) used to be in charge at Don Camillo, which was once a lovely little restaurant in Nice. Some of his dishes at Don C. featured socca -- a bit like serving crisps (potato chips) with some 3-star haute cuisine dish, but tasty nonetheless.

I have always found panisses somewhat easier to make than socca, since a proper socca is cooked over wood or charcoal on a thin metal tray, and it needs a bit of technique to get it right. There are socca vendors who come to local markets here in the South, with wood burning ovens on wheels; the socca they make is slightly charred and delicious. Socca are also very good with finely chopped green onions incorporated into the batter; I have not tried this with panisses, though it sounds good. You don't have to deep-fry panisses -- a bit of olive oil in a pan works fairly well. The peanut/chickpea recipe for panisses above looks completely bogus to me ... but perhaps this is a side of Nicois cookery that I have yet to discover. You can often buy chickpea flour in stores catering to Indian customers, but be careful because it becomes rancid if stored too long. Most traiteurs (delicatessens) here have panisses, which you can take home and fry up or grill. They are usually moulded in a round shape. Even if you do figure out how to make panisses and socca, get on that plane! It's worth the trip...

If you're invited to someone's house for dinner, do you worry about "dish duplication"? A dinner at a restaurant isn't quite the same thing, but some of the most pleasant restaurant meals come close -- especially when you let the restaurant choose for you. Here are links to notes on two of the most rewarding restaurant meals I can recall, at both ends of the cost spectrum: one at L'Ambroisie in Paris, and the other at Chef Haourari's little restaurant and pizzeria in Tunisia. In both cases, the restaurant chose most of the dishes for us. In both cases, we all had the same dishes. At both restaurants, there was joy in sharing the experience of the same foods. And no worries about "dish duplication"!

I think it's fair to say that the French and the Italians both have a stronger sense of "correct" food than is true in the US. E.g. in Italy it isn't "correct" to drink cappucino after mid-morning; French diners are generally more upset about serving red wine with chicken (no matter how light or suitable the red); cheese comes before the sweet, not after, as in Britain; and so on. There are strong notions of "gastronomic correctness" that are not to be violated. And of course children usually have stronger views than adults about what's acceptable and what's not. We get some of this from British children -- e.g. a neighbour's 5 year old child, visiting when my wife served the children quesadillas (you can now buy soft tortillas in London) asked , "Don't you have any proper food?" -- with proper said in a high, cut-glass voice expressing deep annoyance at the intrusion of a "foreign" dish.

The issue about profitability of the restaurant is relevant, since apparently it was behind M. Senderens's decision to change. I think we have a case of conflicting data here, and it may be tough to resolve. On the one hand, the Figaro article that kicked off this thread noted that That is, in loose translation, The journalist here supports the conventional wisdom cited by chef Zadi: these top-end restaurants don't make large profits. When we interviewed Ferran Adria in London, he insisted (as he has in other interviews) that El Bulli just broke even; he needed his other, more profitable ventures in order to keep the restaurant operating. On the other, the Societe.com data that Mikael quoted does suggest that Lucas-Carton has been profitable, and there would be no reason to overstate the profitability of the business -- in fact, quite the opposite, in order to reduce taxes. Nonetheless the "EBE" figure (close, though not exactly the same as, EBITDA, earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortisation) isn't enormous given the roughly 5m Euro revenues of the business, and we don't know whether M. Senderens or other family members invlolved have been paid a salary or are living off the cash flow of the business. Hence it's not clear that the restaurant is "a goldmine". The Guardian report cited by John Whiting contains M. Senderens's insistance that Lucas Carton remains profitable. It also notes that the loss of a star would, according to Paris conventional wisdom, cost the restaurant 25% in turnover. A rough calculation of fixed costs suggests that such a drop would push the restaurant into the red, by roughly the same magnitude that it now makes a profit. So unless the owner can be sure that the star is "sticky", there could be real economic pressure in operating at this level.