[Dinner Parties]

We have service for 20, and I dread the thought of that ever happening.

I believe we're settling on 8. In a modern setting, that devolves to three on each side, and the host (and hostess or whatever) holding the heads of the table.

What we do is switch positions partway through the meal, allowing our guest equal access to us (who are generally off in the kitchen half the time) and each other.

That works for us.

I find that, when the crowd gets larger, I dont' get their company, and they don't get mine.

[Feast [Houston]]

Okay, marrow.

I need to do this.

[The WGF in Bangkok]

October 5 – dinner – Graham Elliot Bowles- Graham Elliot – Chicago, USA

(I need to mention the USA part in the title, so you don’t get it mixed up with the other Chicagos.)

Graham was one of the chefs that I’d been keen on from the start. He’s young, aggressive, and looked like he’d be a lot of fun.

We were dining in Biscotti tonight, opening night for the WGF, which is probably my favourite venue for this sort of meal , with it’s open kitchen providing good access to the chefs at work.

The intro on Graham, ably delivered by Malcolm Ormond, F&B for the Four Seasons, talked about his life as a Navy brat, and of his exposure to a wide (very wide) variety of foods from a young age. He took this to heart (and most of his other organs) and had, by the age of 27 in 2008 been “nominated for the prestigious James Beard title ‘Best Chef, Great Lakes’.”

Tonight he was here representing his own restaurant, opened in 2008, by the name of “Graham Elliot”, in, of course, Chicago, USA.

And he is very much a larger than life, in your face, Chicago boy.

So, I was expecting some fun.

(Actually, listening to him talk, I was really sorry I wasn’t in his cooking class, but one of the hardships of this week is choosing what you do, and what you miss…..so many meals, so little time….put that on my gravestone…..it’ll be wide enough.)

Our wine this evening was American. Kendall-Jackson. Supplied through the California Wine Company here in Thailand, they’ve been a very staunch supporter of the WGF over the years, and Jeff Cook, their rep, goes back even farther than that, having represented Mondavi over here in years gone by (I remember the night we did a vertical tasting, and having the news announced of the dissolution of Mondavi.)

Maybe I should write a book on the WGF?

Maybe not.

Our opening wine, from the lobby, through the mingling, and to the table, had been a Vintner’s Reserve, Chardonnay, 2007. A good opening, waking up our palate after a hard stint of cocktails and appetizers in the club (yes, I’ll get around to the food porn shots from the lounge soon enough).

Our first dish was one of our favourites.

A Deconstructed Caesar Salad

Baby Romaine, White Anchovy, Parmesan Fluff, Brioche Twinkie”.

This went with a Kendall Jackson Grand Reserve, Chardonnay 2006. A slighty more established wine, with more fruit coming through. You can compare the 2006 (on the right) with the crisper 2007 on the left.

The dish itself was a lot of fun. I like it when they rip things apart and put them back together. Sort of like Dr. Manhattan. (Full disclosure: yup, I like Scud's version of this best)

A lot of people were put off by the anchovy, but I loved the fishiness of it all. And the twinkie was a good way to do a crouton. When I have a caesar salad, my interest is taken by the anchovy and the croutons, and in this case Graham has brought these two up in your face. The effect is like having a caesar served to you as a bruscetta.

The next pour went sideways, a Vintner’s Reserve, Pinot Noir 2006. Good flavour, lots of fruit, and, while my nephew, Clark, comments on the “barnyard funk” of pinots, I didn’t have a problem with this. As Jeff was saying, K-J benefits from a long cool growing season, natural acidity, and smaller berries, with intense flavours.

Our next dish was the corn soup.

Sweet Corn Bisque

Garlic Marshmallow, Pepper Jam, Corn Nuts, Lime Crema

Now – full disclosure here – I didn’t do the cooking class (which everyone I know says was a lot of fun), but I do have the recipes, or at least the ingredients:

• Corn: 10 ears (whole, shucked)
  
• Bell Peppers: 4 ea.
  
• Chipotle Peppers: 1 ea. (dried)
  
• Garlic: 4.5 oz. (5 cloves, peeled)
  
• Egg Whites: .5 ea.
  
• Glucose: 14.5 g.
  
• Sugar: 115 g.
  
• Water: 29 g.
  
• Gelatin: 2.25 sheets
  
• Corn Nuts: .5 cup
  
• Crème Fraiche: .25 cup
  
• Lime: 2 ea.
  
• Salt: to taste
  

To put it all together, you’ll need to ask someone who was there (which means “not me”). Maybe Austin was there?

The result, for me, was enjoyable enough, but it did feel a bit overly sweet for this staghe of the evening. I mean, hey!, I like marshmellows for a morning snack, too, and I could see a plan of working this after the salt in the anchovy from the Caesar, but it felt, well, too good for this stage of the evening.

But that’s just me.

Following this was a course of mixed reviews.

Tomato Crusted Halibut

Zucchini Couscous, Smoked Eggplant, Caramelized Fennel, Basil Bubbles

Visually, this is a stunning dish. The blob-that-ate-Pittsburgh green of the basil foam; the clotted blood of the tomato over the pallid zombie-skin flesh of the halibut; and the organ-like vegetables peeking out from under the corpse…..okay, I should stop fixating on George E Romero.

Now I want to eat some brains.

It was a let-down, though. After staring at this dish, when I bit in I was overpowered by the tomato. I like halibut, and I’d been looking forward to the taste of the fish, but what I took away was the tomato, the fennel, the eggplant, and the basil. The couscous, which sounded neat, came over too salty.

The fish wasn’t there.

Having said all that, the tomato and other strong flavours went well with the wine, a Grand Reserve, Merlot 2005.

I don’t share Paul Giamatti’s views on merlot. I find it good company for a lot of meals, and this was one of them. A well balanced merlot, nothing really over the top, but the right meal for this dish.

Later on, Michael Ginor would give me stick in the swimming pool for not remembering what I ate, but, having solid memories (with a slight alcohol whitewashing) of this dish, and the class notes, I would stick with what I’ve got here.

One thing I want to do in this post, as I made a bad attempt at last year, is to give credit to the people that came with the headliners.

In the case of Graham, he brought with him Allison Mundell as his backup. As I said last year, I think these are people to track over the next decade.

Following the dawn of the dead, it was time to go for the guts.

Barbecued Pork Belly

Cole Slaw, Potato Salad, Fried Pickles, Root Beer

I will never argue with someone who serves me pork belly.

This was just right. Pull apart, no work to the eating. The cole slaw was just right, and the fried pickles were a delight.

I would love to reminisce over the root beer, but I honestly can’t remember it.

It was one of those nights.

Part of that night was our next pour was the Grand Reserve, Cabernet Sauvignon 2005 to go with the pig. A very solid cab that stood up well to the pork fat and the sauces on the dish. Good company for the dinner in question.

We came out of this into dessert.

Movie Theater Extravaganza

Popcorn Gelato, Malt Balls, Twizzler Puree, Cracker Jack

If you’re going to give a dessert a title like this, then you should be willing to go over the top. I think the alcoholic red twizzler drizzle is one of the most fun things I’ve don in a long time.

As mentioned before, here’re the ingredients:

• Microwave Popcorn: 1 bag
  
• Egg Yolks: 12 ea.
  
• Heavy Cream: 1 qt.
  
• Twizzler Candy: 4 oz.
  
• Malted Milk Balls Candy: 1 qt.
  
• Pop Rock Candy: 5 ea. (individual pkgs)
  

This is a good, beat-you-into-the-stuffing-of-your-sofa sort of dessert (can I coin that phrase?). We always like it when a dish brings back memories, and this does just that.

Sticky memories, but still……

With this we had the K-J Late Harvest, Chardonnay 2006. Not a bad finish. Sweet, a bit smooth, but not like some of the botrytis I’ve had, but still a good finish to the overpowering flavours in the dessert.

Graham is one of those people I could spend a lot of time talking with. Okay, we’d probably be drinking too (at least I would). I took him on one of our topics, the matter of tipping, and I liked his response.

The question is, “do you tip out your kitchen, or, as waitstaff, is your compensation the tip?”

Graham’s take is that “a waiter is a waiter. He’ll come, he’ll go. But a chef shouldn’t be driven by the tips, he should be driven by the desire to be the best he can be, and have his own place.”

You can take the quotation marks there with a grain of salt (how many wines was that) but the gist of it was that Graham felt that someone working directly with food should be motivated more by the calling of what he was doing, than by mere lucre.

Okay, at the end of the day, lucre is good, but it’s the end result, rather than an incremental motivator.

Having talked with a number of successful professionals over the years (a topic outside of food, in general) this is the right attitude.

[The WGF in Bangkok]

Just in the nick of time....

I'd wanted to put up these two shots, not because the quality is great, but it makes the class look more like the fun it was.

Our visiting chef from Bo.Lan, aka A.... was Adam. Another of the David Thompson crowd.

Now that I think on it, there's an interesting thought. As we've seen Fergus Henderson's people move out and open their own places, where else are David Thompson's protege's showing up? But that's material for another thread.

As another aside, I'm very happy to see this bo.lan thriving. One reason that I have to add these shots on is because, when I phoned the restaurant to ask for permission, I was told that everyone was too busy cooking to come to the phone. In my mind, that's a perfectly sound reason.

So, I give you the name of our mystery pounder (Adam, in case you missed it before), and these two shots, which show that we were having a lot of fun.

Rule #41 - never volunteer

Rule #42 - never let your mates volunteer you

Note: edited multiple times as I'm engaged in internecine war with my keyboard

[The WGF in Bangkok]

Quick note - Austin was at almost all of the classes and most of the other events I was. Austin is also a lot harder working than I am, so his stuff is all up there already.

Like with Chubby Hubby a couple of years ago, I'm trying really hard right now not to look at his blog (but the pictures are always excellent), so as not to bias me.

You all, of course, are free to your own devices. Just, please, don't ask me to account for any differences in what we report until I've finished posting all of my stuff.

Just assume that Austin's right and I'm wrong.

Next - Dinner with Graham

[The WGF in Bangkok]

October 5, 2009

Cooking with David Thompson, from Nahm, the Halkin Hotel, London

If you’re reading a thread like this related to Bangkok and Thailand, then you probably already know David Thompson. So I’ll keep this short as much will work back into the text later.

History. David is all about history, and so we should start there. I’ll lift parts of this from other conversations I had with David later on, so if you’re reading this after having attended with me, that’s why it might seem different.

So, let's get start.

For a leading light in Thai cuisine, I was surprised to hear that he’d actually hated the food when he first tasted it. Rather than the food, it was the Thai culture that lured him in (“The place just seduced me”). Soon enough he took an interest in the food, and settled down under the tutelage of Khun Sombat Janpehetchara, whose background was in the palace kitchens.

In 1991 he returned to Oz, and opened the Darley Street Thai, which pretty much owned the title of Best Thai in Sydney for the rest of the decade. Then, in 2001, he opened up Nahm at the Halkin Hotel, and took his Michelin star in 2002. In 2004 he put out the massive (it’s a big book) Thai Food, which collects his research and studies (and recipes) on Thai cooking. You’ll find it elsewhere in the threads as a standard reference when the topic of Thai cuisine comes up.

He has a new book coming out – Thai Street Food – which should be released in Australia in the next week or so (as I wrap up this post now). The North American-UK version won’t be out until early next year through some odd twist of antipodean reasoning (well, it may not be their fault) so I’ll have to wait a few months for that.

So, that’s the brief. How then did the class progress?

David Thompson was in a fine way, in classic morning (well, perhaps it was just past noon, but that’s close enough to morning for most of us) form.

“It’s a Monday morning, it’s the start of the WGF, and you’ve got me out of bed. You’re a damned nuisance, the lot of you.”

Yes, I'm up for this.

So, what are we doing for lunch today?

Noodles. Thai noodles. Kanom jin.

Kanom Jin with three sauces

Geng Yaa Baa – Smoked fish with bamboo and betel leaves

Nahm Yaa Gai – Chicken and wild ginger

Nahm Yaa Soi Gung Sap – Prawns with shredded herbs

The room was full, which provided a fine stalking ground for victims. From our table he picked out A.., who was celebrating his birthday. David has known him for some years, and as its an Australian tradition not to hesitate about embarrassing your mates.

And, heck, it was his birthday.

(A… was over from Bo.Lan, where he’s working in the kitchen with Khun Bo and Dylan. I checked with him, and they’re doing lunches on the weekends, so I must try and get things lined up for November so I can show Yoonhi the place).

The first task was to get A… pounding the chilies. David heavily recommends making Thai food in teams, as this allows you to get someone else to do the hard work.

Geng Yaa Baa – Smoked fish with bamboo and betel leaves

Ingredients

• 2 cups of stock, worked up with the bones of the fish and the off cuts. You can use water, or chicken stock, but if you have that carcrass there, then why not?
  
• a good pinch of salt
  
• another pinch, this time of white sugar
  
• a cup of the curry paste we’ll talk about below
  
• 2 tbsp of fish sauce (and they’re using megachef)
  
• about 1 tsp of palm sugar
  
• one cup of shredded, blanched bamboo, or yellow aubergines
  
• a few tablespoons sliced grateu – or a mixture of white tumeric, ginger, and grachai
  
• ½ cup shredded betel leaves
  

For the geng yaa curry paste:

• 14 large dried red chllies
  
• salt
  
• 4 small dried red chillies – and these can be, like me, toasted
  
• 2 tbsp lemongrass
  
• 2 tbsp galangal
  
• 5 tbsp grachai
  
• 3 tbsp thai garlic
  
• 1 rounded tsp gapi
  
• 1 small grilled plaa duk yang – about ½ cup meat
  
• 3 to 4 tbsp grilled plaa gulao meat
  

For condiments, and condiments are an important part of this dish:

• kanom jin (of course)
  
• steamed eggs
  
• plaa salit tort
  
• pickled gratin – an acacia like herb
  
• pickled banana blossoms, mustard greens or bean sprouts
  
• fresh bean sprouts
  
• sadtor beans (for a lingering pungency)
  
• lemon basil (the indispensable herb)
  
• banana blossoms
  

The class today we would be doing a trio of sauces, all set up to work with kanom jin. It’s a good, unified approach to a lunch, as kanom jin is a fine, mid day meal, best served at room temperature. Plus, it works well with different sauces, the flavours mixing together. Once I get back to my Spring Break, I’ll cover more of it.

Kanom jin, itself, is a Thai noodle, as opposed to the majority which is of Chinese origin. Well, we say “Thai”, but it seems to have been introduced through the Mon.

Our first dish was (arguably) the most interesting. This worked off of smoky, complex flavours from the fish used in the paste. Behind it were a number of specific items, the plaa insin being something I hadn’t worked with before. And then there was plaa raad, in all its fermented glory.

Working it up, they took the bones off of the smoked, salted fish they were using, and stocked those, with some of the off cuts of the herbs and other stuff that would be used (lemon grass, grachai, grateur (a relatively obscure Southern rhizome), galangal, and other stuff we’ll talk about soon).

David had a good thought, and one he’d failed to act upon earlier (it is a Monday morning, after all), which would have been to use the stock to wash out the paste from the mortar. Bo bpen nyang.

There was a lot of good material on pestle action, much of it at A’s expense (and others as we worked through). Chef Ann from the Spice Market stepped in to help with the pounding, and it was interesting watching the different techniques employed in holding the pestle.

For Chef Ann’s technique (from the Four Seasons Spice Market), her fingers were down on the shaft, the thumb gliding forward, the wrist supple.

For David, it was a manlier grip on the top of the pestle, but with that same smoothness in the wrist. It was a hit, and a rock forward (“Don’t mill it”). It’s like watching the Sichuan chefs practicing with their woks full of sand. It looks easy, but it’s a lot of work.

And, as David says, a Thai mother-in-law can tell a person’s nature from how they use a mortar and pestle.

We were working now with the chilies in the mortar. He’d soaked these in water. The idea here is that the water draws out some of the coarser heat from the peppers. It’s not that you want to lower the spice, but by removing the overburn, you can use more chilies in your paste and so deepen the flavour.

He added in some salt as he pounded. This breaks the peppers down more, and acts as a preservative.

To this, he adds in some fresh green chilies. These will add zest to the flavour, making up for the mellowness we’ve induced with the soak on the dried red peppers.

Then, once the chili is broken down (which takes him a few moments and the rest of us half an hour) he chops up some lemon grass and adds that to the pound.

Next, some galangal, and then the plaa in see – the stinky salted fish.

You want to get this down to a fine puree. Then you add garlic, and use your nose and underside of the lip to adjust the flavour.

There’s a comment, too, that arose later. Thai cooking is about adjusting and modifying on the fly. You never know exactly what the flavour of the chilies or herbs is going to be, so you need to test as you go.

An important point that he brought up is that with the curry pastes themselves, rely upon your sense of smell. In their initial form, the flavours are “too sharp and raw. You’ll get confused.”

The grateur we’re using gives a perfume smell to the dishes.

You take the stock worked up from the fish bones (but you could use chicken stock, or even just water) and then add the paste.

The sauce will need about five to six minutes over heat, but then you need to let it settle for an hour, giving the marriage time for a honeymoon. You’ll get that perfume from the grateur coming out – the smell of wild ginger.

Once you get to that olfactory happy time, you can start to season and adjust, using palm sugar and nam plaa. The smell is wild ginger, and the taste is from the fish. You can balance against these with powdered chili pepper.

For a nam plaa, David is recommending Megachef, which we can get over at Paragon. He’s importing this into London for his restaurant. It’s a beautiful brown colour, a deeper, murkier shade than what I’m usually working with off the shelf here.

Now things get interesting. Coarsely shred and blanch the bamboo. We say blanch, but work this up from a cold start. This will leech out the bitterness of the bamboo.

Add the bamboo to the sauce.

Add some grateur to get the aroma.

Then add the shredded betel leaf (bpai cham poo). This, he felt, was a surprise in the recipe

“Old fashioned Thai food is full of surprises”.

What you get, once it’s all together, is a thick, pungent smoky sauce. You need to let this sit for at least half an hour to marry, but honestly, the longer you give it, the better it will get.

David tastes the mix for the proper saltiness, and then adds in some more chili powder for “sheer vindictive revenge”.

I do admire the Australians.

David has kept the noodles covered with bamboo leaf to keep them moist. Now he puts them to the plate, with an egg on the side, sets the condiments, and explains how then you should pull apart your herbs, spoon the sauce onto the noodles, use your spoon and fork to break up the noodles, and then mix it all into a mess.

As you stir it all about the basil opens up, and you have a very nice lunch.

I asked David what he would look for in a wine to go with this?

“Alcohol.”

I told you I liked the Australians, didn’t I?

For this he would look to a rose, perhaps, or a light shiraz, perhaps a German Riesling.

But most important – alcohol.

NAHM YAA SOI GUNG SAP- prawns with shredded herbs

Ingredients

• 500 g medium small prawns
  
• 1 cups coconut cream
  
• a few tablespoons stock or water
  
• pinch of salt
  
• 1 – 2 tablespoons fish sauce
  
• pinch palm sugar
  
• 2 tablespoons sliced red shallots
  
• 1 heaped tablespoon sliced Thai garlic
  
• 2 tablespoons sliced lemongrass
  
• ½ teaspoon sliced galangal
  
• 4 tablespoons shredded grachai
  
• several sliced scuds – optional
  
• a little additional fish sauce – to taste
  
• 3 – 4 shredded kaffir lime leaves
  
• additional ½ cup coconut cream
  

Served accompanied by

• kanom jin
  
• lemon basil
  
• white turmeric
  
• sliced cucumbers
  
• trimmed bean sprouts
  

When they talk here about “shredded herbs” really they’re talking about a very fine chop. The finer you can chop the ingredients, the more elegant this dish is.

First we peel the prawns and reserve the tomalley. From this volume we’re looking for about three tablespoons.

Then we boil the coconut cream, and add in the tomalley, touching this up with the palm sugar. Then, for salt, we hit it with the nam plaa.

At this point we drop the boil down, and then add the prawns.

The result at this point is quite rich and creamy, on the sweet side.

Then the rest of the ingredients are introduced, and stirred and shaken in.

This is allowed to simmer for a minute or two.

It’s a simple sauce, which is what makes it elegant. You’ll adjust the sweetness by adding salt via the nam plaa, and a little bit of chili to pepper it up, and some of the wild ginger for the nose.

“Good Thai food is about tasting the dish for the ingredients. Always feel free to add more stuff.” Som saa – that key ingredient for mee krob – would be a very good addition here, giving a wonderful smell. Assuming, of course, that you could find it. Som saa has, according my friend CL at my shoulder, become harder and harder to find. The latest source she’d found was going to Uthai Thani and talking to the growers there directly.

Wanting more salt, he adds sea salt rather than nam plaa to avoid making the dish too wet.

The result is a gentle, slightly sweet sauce, giving us relief from the more aggressive flavours of the other toppings.

To plate, we arrange banana blossoms, cucumber, white turmeric (for an earthy pungency) and then make a mess of it all again.

Next kanom jin nahm yaa gai – chicken and wild ginger.

Ingredients

• 150 g chicken breast, skinless
  
• pinch salt
  
• 3 cups coconut milk
  
• 2 cups stock
  
• nahm yaa gai curry paste – see below
  
• 1 – 1½ tablespoons fish sauce – to taste
  
• pinch white sugar
  
• good pinch chilli powder
  
• 1 cup coconut cream
  

nahm yaa gai paste

yields 100 g or about ½ cup

• 10 dried large red chillies 20 g
  
• salt
  
• 2 or 3 scuds
  
• 2 tablespoons galangal 20 g
  
• 3 tablespoons sliced lemongrass 25 g
  
• 3 tablespoons chopped grachai 60 g
  
• 2 tablespoons chopped red shallots 25 g
  
• 1½ tablespoons garlic 50 g
  
• ½ tablespoon gapi 20 g
  
• about 1 tablespoons or 10 g
  
• salted plaa insiri or plaa gulao, grilled or toasted until fragrant
  

Served with,

• sprigs of lemon basil
  
• bean sprouts
  
• coriander
  
• shredded banana blossoms
  
• boiled eggs
  
• pickled mustard green or bean sprouts or siamese watercress
  
• snake beans
  
• chopped green beans
  

This sauce was more of a standard for kanom jin. You start by poaching the chicken in salted coconut milk and stock (at least, you’re supposed to “It would’ve been clever if I’d poached it in the coconut milk as I should’ve”). As before, toss in any of the bits and pieces hanging about after you’ve prepped for the paste. Once it’s cooked, remove the meat, let it cool, and then shred it. You’re looking to have about a half a cup (heaped) of chcken once you’re done. It’ll go into the paste.

Start with the chillis, as before, pulling them out from the water they’ve been soaking in.

For the pounding this time, David gave A… a rest, and called up young Somchai (aka Austin Bush, familiar to a lot of us from his posts on eGullet, and his own website).

Once you have the dried chillis worked down to a paste, add the next ingredient – the “scuds”, which are the small rat turd peppers, to give some zest – and then get that down to a paste.

Now add the grachai, and follow the flavour with your nose, as we’d said before, rather than by tasting. Pound that down. David didn’t follow the order of the recipe book, but the method is to break each ingredient down into the paste separately, working up a fine paste. Finish with the fish, in this case the fragrant plaa insin.

Once the paste is ready, David then pitched shreds of the meat into the mortar as Austin kept on pounding (for the record, Austin’s pounding was seen as showing a “constant and reliable” nature). The chicken was broken down to the desired smooth consistency, and then we were ready for the sauce.

Pour four cups of the coconut stock we (should’ve) poached the chicken with into a pot, and bring that to a boil. Now stir in our paste and let it simmer gently for a few minutes, keeping a slow stir going so it doesn’t catch. Use that last bit of stock to adjust so it doesn’t get too thick as it reduces.

This you can taste, and it’s a bit raw now. Like the earlier sauce, this needs a bit of time for things to come together.

The reduction is going to concentrate flavours, so hold off on the final seasoning until you’re ready, and then adjust with the namplaa, white sugar, and chili powder. This sauce comes out rich, salty, hot, sharp from the grachai and galangal; and creamy and smoky from the fish.

This was plated with the condiments and noodles - the crisp banana blossoms and sprouts, the give of the chopped green beans, the give of the egg, and smell of the snake beans and basil.

We were eating the dishes as we went, and, of course, drinking as we went, too. George Duboeuf’s Puilly Fuisse 2007 to start. A good French Chardonnay, but it was struggling with the strong flavours of the geng yaa. I made a point of drinking a lot of this before digging into the noodles. Once we got to the gentler flavours of the prawns, this wasn’t a bad choice.

George Duboeuf Moulin A Vent 2007 (Gamay). This went better with the geng yaa and the chicken sauces. I drank more of this.

Dessert brought back fond memories. Surprises wrapped in fresh leaves.

Inside was a bit of a mess, but the flavours of sticky rice, sweet coconut cream, and the caramelized peanuts was just fine. I could have been back on the banks of Sisowah Quay watching the Bassac go by in flood.

My friend, CL, had a similar reaction. She’d been commenting through the meal that many of the ingredients and methods were things she recognized from her youth, but that you never saw them anymore.

At the very end, another bit of the old days, a peanut brittle on banana chips with flecks of gold. (Yes, I’m a shoddy photographer).

It’s worth mentioning that the class was a pretty good mix of Thai and Westerners, with the preponderance more Thai. While David may have been slightly frustrated at the difficulty in engaging the audience, I did get the impression from CL and my other friends there that his studies on Thai cooking and history were well appreciated. There’s always the worry of “who are you to tell us how to cook” in a situation like this, but I didn’t get that impression here.

There is a current running through Thai society these last few years that a lot of tradition is being lost as life becomes faster and more demanding. David Thompson is trying to save what he can of those traditions, so more power to him.

[Travelogue: Spring Break 2009 -- Back in Bangkok]

Farang baan nowk, that's me

I'll be catching up here soon. I just want to get the WGF out of the way fast, before I leave for Houston. There's a lot of good material in there from the cooking classes that I'd hate to lose.

[The WGF in Bangkok]

October 4 – 2009 – The preWGF intro

Twas the night before the WGF, and all through the house, everyone was heading for brunch.

My idea of a good trip is to be tossed off some awful flight from somewhere, shake myself off, perhaps shower, and then go to brunch at the Four Seasons in Bangkok.

As I’ve said elsewhere, I’m a simple man of common tastes.

We’ve done this so many times, so I won’t go into details, we’ll just make do with the food porn shots.

There were some new items, as always. For me, the highlight was the khao soy, that rich dish of Chiang Mai, crisp noodles and warm broth. Plenty of chilli, and a good depth of flavour in the broth.

My theory of timing is working well. I do recommend taking the heavier meat cuts (like this prime rib with green peppercorns) early in the meal

Foie gras soufflé is always a good filler, able to round things out when called upon.

And some may consider it passé, but I still like my slabs of foie gras for breakfast with champagne and martinis.

I did go for an egg fest this time. Too often I forget about that island of ice out there in the goldfish pound. But this dish really called for Korean rice, and a mix of al bap.

Another bit of Thailand were the pork balls – lathered in a sweet sauce 0 and the gilled pork with a nice, brutal chili sauce.

Lobster claws are back. We almost missed these, as they were brought out later in the morning. Probably for the best. The oysters, as I’ve said, will invigorate you and send you back into the fray, but the lobster (and crab) will lead you along innocently, and then slam your appetite into a wall.

I wonder if there’s a job available somewhere as a brunch coach?

Yoonhi and M disappeared for a 4 p.m. spa appointment. Yoonhi’s plan is to spend as much time being massaged as I spend doing classes.

Tall order.

In the lounge, there was the usual fine collection of dishes. One of my favourites is green mango with a good nam praa wan (fish sauce and chili dip) – the burrn and then the tang and cool of the mango, the mango itself bringing a tartness.

Some little bits of fried pork accompanied by crisp basil (which is something I need to learn. I never get the basil crispy enough).

And we don’t talk about it often enough, but the fruits of Thailand are a joy. Fresh papaya (with a squeeze of lime to perk it up). And the pineapple is another story altogether.

I’ve always got another story.

But these simple pleasures were pushed aside with the return of Yoonhi na M. We were heading out into the hard, cruel, Hello Kitty of the night.

Our first stop was Niu. As you’d say it’s name, it was new, recently opened up down Silom across from Silom Shpping Village and near the Holiday Inn.

There are two floors. Upstairs is a quiet, elegant dining room. The menu is Italian, chef Marco having come here from Rossini’s in the Sheraton Grande Sukhumvit.

Downstairs was a comfortable looking jazz club, with heavy leather chairs clustered around a small stage.

But this wasn’t what we were looking for tonight. In typical fashion, we piled out and drove off to the next place. (Niu has had some very good recommendations, though, so I have to bookmark it for a return).

M drove to Lebua at the Dome.

“We’re not eating here, are we?”

“No, we’re just going to park.”

Oh, well, that’s a relief.

Sure enough, we ditched the car and grabbed a taxi. Knowing where to strategically leave your vehicle is a fine skill in this town.

We were off for a long drive, up Charoen Krung and through China Town to the far riverside of the Rama VIII bridge.

Chinlom Chom Sapan

As expected, my leaky memory had this mixed up with Baan Rabiang Nam, which Stupid American had recommended. I trust his judgement, so I was a little disappointed when it was the place. But hey, bo bpen nyang.

Still, we were off to a good start. Just over the railing a skiff pulled up with phlaa muk yang – dried squid grilled and then rolled out to soften it.

A cold beer (or three) and a piece of this to rip to shreds and gnaw upon is always an elegant beginning.

Next was M’s favourite here – mieng kham with another sweet and spicey sauce. This was packed with little dried and reconstituted shrimp. You could make out the eyes and face of each one (if I had a better camera).

This was an interesting dish, not what we’d expected. The menu had it as clam in a sizzling pot, and my interest had been in the clams, but what arrived were the reconstituted dried scallops in there, the big chewy ones. It was an interesting contrast of textures, which is a nice way of saying it was “really chewy”. Not my favourite dish, I must say, but still better than anything I’m going to make.

I always like the fish mousse. Here it had been curried, then braised in banana leaf, to be opened and dressed with coconut cream and herbs and chilis.

Above the fish you’ll see the chicken knuckles – little tidbits to through back with fresh peanuts, ginger, and chilis.

And then there was the omelet of oysters – hoi tod. If I can’t have oysters fresh and raw, I want them in a Thai omelet. Everything pulls away fluffy, and then the beansprouts crunch it out, and the herbs lift your nose from the oily egg smell.

Near the exit I did note that they made a point that Chinlom Chom Sapan was not using msg in any of their cooking anymore – in deference to the health of their customers. Things are changing.

Like a lot of the big places, they also keep their kitchen open to view, in part to facilitate serving, but also to give people confidence in what’s being done.

Me, I just like spying in kitchens.

From here, by the magic of metered taxis, we werer whisked back across the night of Bangkok, picking out occasional landmarks like the train station at Hualamphong.

One of the factors in tactical parking is that you have to be willing to pay the piper. We were up to the top of Lebua, under the Dome, for martinis and mojitos.

Like Vertigo at the Banyan Tree, you’re here for the view.

And it is a great view. The river is down there, as are the freeways and byways.

For me, though, I would probably take Vertigo. The effect of being on the edge is better at Vertigo, perched way out there without any higher supports. Okay, if you’re planning on staying coiffed, that may not work that well for you, but I like that edge. Here the Dome itself tends to settle your qualms more as it looms over you in the sky. And the bar is flanked by lower levels, so you don’t get that “drop off the edge” feeling. It’s a more secure feeling, but that’s not what you come to this sort of place for.

As for drinks – no complaints. However, as this place gets a lot more of the tourist crowd, the service was more rushed, and you got the feeling that they had to deal with a lot of people just coming for a look around.

It must be something of an issue for them, as they do post a warning on the dress code.

Now, in comparison to the Skybar, which felt more like an outing to the Grand Canyon observatory, I did like Distil.

This is a solid, comfortable bar. Good service, and the outdoor area, with it’s wide bench around the edge, provides a feeling of….chill. There’s a bit of a view, but they’re not emphasizing that. This is a good thing, as there are notably fewer tourists on this side, and the folks here are enjoying this place in line with its purpose.

The night was drawing to a close, and jetlag had its ugly claws well fastened into our eyeballs. It was relatively early, but we figured we’d done enough here to justify the parking.

Tomorrow was a busy day.

Next – David Thompson

[The WGF in Bangkok]

Patience, little bunny, patience. We've had the usual internet bandwidth problems. But I have pictures uploading now.

But will they be done before we have to leave for foie gras and champagne? (Ginor in 45 minutes)..

[The WGF in Bangkok]

As we say, life is a string of coincidences. (if we don't say that, we should)

When I found out about the chef, I was excited. When I found out about the sakes, I was over the top.

I'm really looking forward to the lunch/cooking class on Saturday, and the finish in Shintaro with the full dinner on Sunday.

Okay, the early plain ride on Monday is another matter........

[The WGF in Bangkok]

Tonight was very good. Luke Dale-Roberts from La Colomba. A stunning fish dish.

And, I may change my mind on South African wines.

[The WGF in Bangkok]

Mmmmmm....roti sai mai is something I haven't had (outside of home) for a long time.

The South African chef tonight! Gotta go get tarted up now.

[The WGF in Bangkok]

It's coming into the last half of day two, and I've barely put a dent in the David Thompson write-up.

But, I strive to catch up, accompanied by a cab sauvignon and some very nicely spiced rolls from Shintaro (the restaurants take terms providing the appetizers for the exec club here). Rona, you would be particularly happy with the tempura'd tuna rolls (yes fry=good). Plus, when the Thai call something spicey, it is spicey.

I jump ahead a bit here, but I wanted to mention that I'll be doing a tour of Or Tor Kor market tomorrow morning with David Thompson. This is a good opportunity if anyone has questions they would like to pose. Let me know by tomorrow morning, and I'll try to get us some answers.

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

Correct. The impressive partner is the most important factor.

[Stocking the Freezer: Dos and Don'ts]

Well, my opinion is that the second best thing is to have sauces frozen. Even husbands like me can make rice or pasta or polenta to go with a good sauce.

The best thing for those new baby times (but it depends on the community) is for someone to take up the reins and organize meals for the family (at least for the first two weeks). We've done a number of sessions of delivering fresh cooked meals (or cooking them for them) at peoples' homes.

Yeah, it seems like a bother, but not once you see the smiles. Plus, it's either a payback for things done for you in the past, or good karma for the future.

[Cambodian/Khmer Cooking]

It might be more Viet, but I like a quick stir fry of "water spinach" with my dishes. No heavy sauce, maybe just a bit of nam plaa for salt.

Another way to do it is to set up a salad alongside the dish (with rice, of course).

Man, I'm getting hungry again.

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

Guilty, I freely admit. Those are all things I can't normally indulge in.

I do admire the chains of England, no matter if they rattle multinationally. Just as I enjoy Shinseggae, Lotte, Sogo, and Takashimaya. They give you a glimpse into the dining rooms and kitchens of the country you're visiting.

And perhaps that's the point. To do a trip to England that's just a gentle sojourn, rather than the full frontal of most of my trips. There'll be time enough for that this next week. This was just relaxation, an attempt to capture John Major's speech of years ago, if you would.

I'm just a simple man with common tastes.

Or is that common man, with simple tastes? I can never keep these things straight.

[Michael Wignall at The Latymer]

We had dinner the other night at Latymer. I have the pictures and blow by blow over here.

As comments on what's been written, I would agree. The attention to detail, and the work ethic that Michael shows is admirable. The plates are beautifully turned out, and I can picture him (having seen other chefs I admire doing it) bent over each plate doing the arrangement.

Having enjoyed the room to ourselves, it's bemusing to read of people being turned away. But they did say that they were full up the night before, so it may just be that they are, unfortunately, really busy most of the time.

The sommelier was pushing the more expensive wines, but, when we weakened and gave in on one, it was well worth it (mind you, Ean paid for the wine).

Cheers,

Peter

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

September 24 – Training complete

Home, sweet home.

So, after a four day intensive training in the UK (we had to get ready for the WGF) what did we buy?

[

Peppercorns, to tide us over to Bangkok. Beautiful leeks, that cost a fortune over here (I’ll be making duck pie and doing stocks with those). Big porcini mushrooms to bake, and smaller chestnut mushrooms to work into other dishes. Purple flowering broccoli to steam and have alongside a galena a la Mexican later in the week (trust me), birthday stuff, and some fresh rosemary and thyme (my bushes have died).

Yoonhi had picked up a big bag of muesli, and I stocked up on Cadbury milk chocolate (we all have our weeknesses). Plus, we had the charcouterie from the butcher in Smelly Alley – pepperoni and chorizo (to use in some of Rodriguez’s dishes). And there were still 8 packages of M&S’ crispy smokeless bacon over there.

And I shouldn’t forget the Tomberries. Three packages of those to parse out in Greek salads and other fresh green offerings.

I don’t see them, but somewhere in this we’ve got some hemp seeds, too. Maybe I should do a Happy Herb’s pizza for a Cambodian night?

There. I’ve finished a trip with just a week to spare (take that, Rona! ☺ )

Next -

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

Dinner was at the Latymer, located in the Penny Hill Hotel in Surrey. The chef, Michael Wignall, earned the Penny Hill their first Michelin star last year, having done the same at the Burlington Restaurant in North Yorkshire’s Devonshire Arms.

The good Mr. Goodfellow has already been here , so I’ll leave the rest of the pedigree and details for you to read there. He's far better at this. Let me concentrate on this meal.

First, it’s a beautiful hotel to walk through, I must say. And we ended up walking quite a ways through it from the car park. Luckily, there were staff about that could get us in the right direction, as we were getting lost.

We were shepherded in past a display of champagne (always a good sign), and shown through to our table, a beautiful round thing of inlaid woods, set with charger plates of a design looking like spun gold in the form of Saturn’s rings.

Dark woods, white linen, brown leather, and super saturated red roses gave the room a feel of deep elegance. Happily we voiced our approval.

And we could voice said approval without a twinge of concern, as the room was empty.

We asked the maitre d’ about this, and he conceded that the recession was having its way, with erratic booking patterns creating havoc. The night before, a Tuesday, they had been almost full.

But none of us minded that particularly. When you have a chef that can produce stars on regular basis, you know they’ll deliver.

Plus, when you’re in the company of friends, there’s a certain joy you can take in having, effectively, a private room, and not being constrained in how you voice your approval.

We hardly bothered to look at the carte, just told them that we’d have the tasting menu.

We had asked the chef to play around, seeing as there wasn’t too much of a load this evening, so the menu was not quite in line with the printed version. I’ll do my best to keep up with the changes, but we were hampered by our waitress’ accent, and the metamorphosis of my handwriting after a large number of pints.

Our first amuse was an interesting plate. A collection of tastes, one plate for each couple.

The gold dumpling contained a bloody mary, which I absconded with under Yoonhi’s nose. The pretty white dish was goat cheese topped with red pepper tapioca. Our other bowl contained fried balls of gruyere cheese and butternut squash rsotto. Aubergine caviar in the spoon. Two rolled things called, I believe, duchesa feuille, which were crisp, and we belive filled with duck liver. There were pastries of anchovy. And huddled in the back were two fried bricks of sesame prawn paste.

Our first wine was a Ginolfo Viognier, Baglio di Pianetto, Sicily 2005. I’ll give the wine notes here over to Ean, as he knows more about wine than I ever will:

” we need to remember that these are two atypical Italian wines, the Ginolfo is a good wine, not great, better on the palate than on the nose, with good fruit, dark berries, and a full palate with a subtle finish, this of course can be said of 90% of the wines one sees in good restaurants….”

We’ll get to that second Italian white soon.

The second dish was another amuse, a small thing of fennel froth, radish, cucumber, more faux caviar, lentils, and I believe a bit of foie under there. It was sharp points that, with the fennel froth, hit all of the parts of the palate.

This was followed by the first course proper. A small seared foie gras down in the lower right – a pretty little thing, quivering before our gase; caramelized pear, sour dough crisp (with a strong flavour of parmesan) astride another bit of foie gras; camomile espuma beside a tube of the liver, and a dollop of butternut squash sorbet with a tidbit of tapioca of some sort atop a bacon look alike formed from foie (I believe).

This was a nice fit in the meal, as it carried the theme of tapioca pearls forward from the appetizers. It also set another theme of concentrating flavours, everything on the plate standing up well.

An exercise, but a fun one. As you’d expect, I was enjoying this meal. Common threads carrying from dish to dish, and linking flavours carrying us through.

Our breads came packaged tidily like some parcel from afar. The selection of four pairs was well received, although we were a little hesitant about indulging too much, given the journey ahead.

I generally agree with Steingarten (but, who doesn’t) in that a restaurant’s bread says a lot about them. These were good breads. Pully, a joy of gluten. And there was plenty of variety in the seeds used. Sue, however, felt that the seeds – the caraway in particular – were a distraction, too overpowering.

Lest I forget, the butter was excellent. Thick, cloying, and everything else you would hope for from churned mammary fluid.

Seared tuna in five spice and cumin, rings of squid countered by two small mounds of ikura, and atop the tuna an oyster paste and osetra caviar. The fish was braced by a tube of what we think was kelp. Some squares of beet root fill anchor the ends of the swabs, providing colour, sweetness, and a morning’s fear of colon cancer (actually, there wasn’t enough to be evident….am I in the TMI zone here?).

Again, a very good progression, moving from the faux caviar to the real, the saltiness of the brined roe working against the thin, lean flavour of this tuna.

Next was one of my (many) favourites, roast calves sweetbreads, These cowering under a flake of crisp chicken skin. There was a foam that I can’t quite recall, and a comte fondu beneath that. The Hereford snails, those two black lumps, stood out on the ring of glaze like moons in orbit, circling through an obstacle course of black eyed peas an roast onion. These were agreeably chewy once bitten into, taking me back to that dish of snails I did at Gary Rhodes W1 Brasserie a few months ago. Beneath was a butternut squash puree continuing the butternut tradition from the foie grass course two dishes earlier.

That reminds me….somewhere Rona (Prasantrin) talked about a place in Bangkok that specializes in deep fried chicken skin. I’ve got to get there, as this is good.

We moved on a bottle of Klin, Primosic, Fiuli Venezia 2006. This had a very nice nose, and the flavour went to a good dry mineral feel after a few moments. That’s what I thought. Here are Ean’s comments:

” ….the Klin however goes to another place, the initial tasting was of a complex wine served too cold and so it was broken, the nose was full but on the palate it reached half way and then finished with a quite nasty taste, left for about 5 minutes and although the nose, full round with a comfortable finish, stayed the same the taste on the palate changed radically, now the blend worked, I failed to ask the celler master’s ….. name but he is to be worshipped. One of the truly great whites shifting slightly to allow for the food but never over powering it, and we were dealing with some delicate flavours in the food. Very few wines stretch from Sweatbread through eel and scallop to delicate butternut squash froths. As usual the greatness of the wine was reflected in the price.”

I did think it tasted rather nice.

Transitioning from a mix of marine (snails) and land (calves) we went into deeper water and had seared hand dived scallops and poached langoustine; and then went back ashore with char grilled leeks, caramelized peanuts (a very nice touch), sesame emulsion, and shavings of black truffle, both on top, and beneath, the earthiness working with the meat of the scallops and grounding the dish.

Following this, and completely off the menu, was a beautiful plate of salt cod and eel, with crisp ‘skin’, worked up – we believe – from squid ink and tapioca (which further extends the connections). This dish again concentrated the flavours, and Yoonhi pointed out the smell of truffles in the egg yolk, all elements working to bridge the dishes.

We opened a red at this point. A cabernet sauvignon from Santa Croce, in Puglia, a vigneti real from 2005. Ean says “the Santa Croce was interesting, not a huge nose but pleasant on the palate, an acceptable red, but I did notice that I tended to drink it to clear the palate rather than compliment the food. Hints of apricot which is never good for me.”

Poached chateaubriand of Limousin veal, young parsnip puree, haggis won ton (peaking out at the back there, and extremely intense in flavour), a stunning mushroom tortellini, and cos lettuce heart, with juniper jus. The beans are Italian coco beans, nice and starchy, and there were also roasted cepe mushrooms in there, king oyster mushrooms, purple brocolli, and cream of truffle.

As usual, I became too enthusiastic and had to miss something. In this case it was the cheese dish. My notes indicate that it was “a pretty thing” with the “jelly of the cheese and the crunch of the walnut”. Sue, in looking back, also mentioned a green tube with a creamy filling, the green being cucumber jelly. You’ll have to make do with that.

Pre dessert was a bowl of Earl Grey panna cotta, an Earl Grey ice cream, a jelly of tart berries, tonka bean shortbread, and meringue sticks.

Next was the dessert they labeled ‘continental breakfast’, with lemon crepes, a streak of coffee down the middle, ‘bacon and eggs’ of a tart strip of berry and a yoghurt ice cream and grapefruit jelly. And a “bowl of chocolate” up there. Meusli parfait and a piece of brioche toast to fill out your morning meal.

Yoonhi never makes me breakfasts like this.

For a dessert wine, we decided on a botrytis – the Recioto Della Valpolicella, Tezza, Venetia 2004. Here’s Ean, again: “The desert wine was so-so; not a significant noble rot compared to some I have had. Maybe as with the red with a single dish would have been better.”

We finished with a moelleux of dark chocolate, malted milk sabayon, lavender, honey ice cream and jelly. For someone who’s not a “dessert person” I sure eat a lot of very good desserts.

Well, almost finished. Sue had a pot of Earl Grey tea, and Yoonhi a decaf latte.

This with a parting shot of chocolates and candied fruits. I’m always partial to candied fruits.

From the looks around the table, we had had a successful dinner. Speaking only for myself, I appreciated how Michael Wignall had tied his dishes together. There was a consistency of style, and a handover in common flavours and themes as we’d worked through.

And we definitely didn’t leave hungry.

(or sober, except for our trusted driver).

This was an excellent finish to the trip (overlooking the dawn departure the next day. I do appreciate a chef - and a staff - that don't just blow off an empty house, but, rather, look on it as a chance to have some fun. And this meal had been a lot of fun.

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

Being our last day, I did feel there was a need for more beer, and so I picked up a few bottles for the afternoon.

At home, stretched in the tub, I tried another of the Badgers. This was their Dandelion. As opposed to the others from their brewery, and in contrast to Zero Degree’s Elderflower, this was disappointing. You couldn’t really pick out the dandelion in it, and if you can’t do that, well then, what’s the point? Yoonhi – who brought me the beer – had poured some for Ean as well, and he later agreed on this.

Next up was a bottle of Long Days, Badger’s summer solstice brew. As Ean put it “that’s more like it”. This was a satisfying ale, some fruit in there like the Tanglefoot, and a good nose. I drank this as the light fell about us.

Following that, it seemed like a good idea to open the Meantime. This had taken the IPA 2008 Brewer of the Year award for Alastair Hook. 7.5 % and champagne corked like a Belgian.

The bottle advises me that the hops are Fuggles and Golding. I don’t know enough to comment on that, other than to say that this had a great nose, with the flower of the hops evident against a strong cloud of citrus, and an overall balance in the mouth that’s quite admirable. It gives itself to neither the sweet nor the bitter, but teases both.

Following such a great performance, the Leffe blond was a disappointment. But that really is just in it’s place in the order of things. If I’d had the Leffe after the Bitter & Twisted of the other day, I’d have been extolling its virtues. It’s a good, general purpose Belgian, but if you’re the sort of person that’s reading this, then you already know the beer.

Daniel returned from work, and he and talked about compute gear and other restaurants. From Oxford he spoke first of Posh Fish and their all day breakfast, but then he recalled a kebab shop with an interesting burger. Two quarter pound patties, topped with donair meat, cheese, and salad, and forced closed with rubber bands. Daniel had thought it wasn’t that much, and ordered cheesy chips to go with it, but ended up leaving the chips untouched, just barely finishing the burger.

For dinner, we were going out for our last night. So, the proper thing to do is pop some champagne first.

Champagne is always a good start to an ending.

Next - The Latymer

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

September 23- Hounded from bed

It’s a hard thing waking up with the dawn. Or at least within a couple of hours of it. We took refuge in mugs of Sumatran coffee, and exercised our lifting arms to the national past time of pillorying the BBC and the UK government.

We took the dogs to the woods, and spent an hour or more walking through the greenery. The woods are royal, but permission is given for walkers. The rangers don’t mind the dogs (at least not if they’re trained). I will miss the greenery when we leave here.

That stroll in the light rain woke our appetites from their slumber, and so our thoughts turned to breakfast.

This was a splendid thing of sausages, blood pudding, tomatos, and mushrooms. The eggs and toast were in there as well, but I always consider them a supporting role.

The blood pudding, unwrapped, looked rather….well, you know.

But once it was sliced up I had no qualms.

Our sausages were pork and herbs, properly packed in gut.

As I watched the pork fest under the grill, I was impressed by the fountains and guysers that would erupt. There was one spurt from the pork and herb sausages that was like a fire boat in the harbour (Sue advised that they’d already had to replace one of the grilling elements in the oven, when they’d seen it about to go supernova).

The mushrooms were allowed to slowly cook in butter while the grilling was underway, that soft smell of the forest developing as we tended the oven.

The sausages retrieved we put the pudding in. This sizzled and sputtered, and soon the skin was crawling away from the heat like a dying insect of some sort. The fat bubbled and boiled out of the bloody matrix, and spattered onto the slab of bacon in the middle.

It’s all quite Mephistophelian.

Ean had Australian advice on the eating of eggs. He said that the best option was to shovel the egg onto the toast, then eat away the white, and then, in a climax, allow the yolk to spend itself onanisticly into the toast.

Sue shuddered.

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

Home again, dusk settling upon us, I opened the third seal and poured the Bitter and Twisted. This had carried the usual postings on the shelf of being a “best beer of the year” and suchlike, but I was sadly disappointed. This blond, sporting a defiant rodent against ears of wheat, looks good on the pour, but is lacking in substantiality.

Unfortunately, rather than the a rapture of rodents, it was just a slightly thin, unremarkable beer. Some people have written of the hops in this, but it lacked the edge I was hoping for from the name.

Pity.

Our evening was a short trip to Windsor to take in the theatre. The title had promise – Lunch with Marlene and Noel – and the first half was fair enough, with good dialogue and some things I didn’t know about the stars of the silver screen. But the second half was targeted more to people who had been there when the screen was untarnished, and it didn’t do as much for me. I’d much rather have seen their staging of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, or the evening with Roy Hudd they had coming up.

Still, it’s pleasant being in a theatre, with a live performance. And there’s also the bonus of the intermission. Sue and I had popped downstairs to book our drinks in advance.

This means not only that you maximized drinking vs waiting time, but that our three white wine spritzers and the Old Speckled Hen (another coincidental memory of Tokyo) would keep our seats safe until our arrival.

Outside, in the dark, we took in the Thames, a flock of English swans (I was told that all swans are the property of the Queen) resting by the bridge in the company of two stray Canadian geese.

The “Windsor Eye”, or whatever they call it, loomed out of the darkness an alien blue, jarring in this setting of Tudor structures and stone bridges. We thought of a curry or some fish and chips, but everything was closing about us.

Home we fell upon the remains of the seafood, cheese, and antipasto from the nights before.

It’s a routine I could grow used to.

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

[September 22

Breakfast this morning was a fine English tradition – the Baky Sandwich. Two slices of good, toasted bread, a mound of bacon, and mayonnaise.

To go with this, I cleaned up the blueberries I bought the other day, and we dug into those like peanuts.

Compared to Vancouver the berries were quite a bit more bitter, not as sugar laden as I’m used to. But still, a blueberry is a blueberry, and well worth consuming.

Ask any bear.

Our mission today was a drive to Bray.

Don’t get your hopes up too much. We’d been trying for reservations at the Fat Duck for quite some time, but they weren’t going to happen (”Recession? What recessions?”).

However, Heston Blumenthal also owns the Hinds Head, just next door. The menu is quite different, the focus being on traditional foods and cooking methods, with several of the dishes items that have been recovered from the past as Blumenthal has worked with the Tudor Kitchens people from Hampton Court Palace (and we’ll get to some of those dishes in a bit). Clive Dixon from the Champignon Sauvage and Lords of the Manor is doing the cooking here, coming to the task with a love for traditional cooking.

So, how is any of this different from a standard pub menu, you ask? (Where’s the red curry?)

Deciding on lunch took ages. That meant we needed beers while we thought things over.

I had Al Goode’s Fresh, they’re guest ale; and Ean went for the Bath Ale – which came brown, nutty, and smooth.

The real decision lay between the lunch specials and the menu. In the end Ean went with the three course, and the rest of us tore apart the menu.

The specials all looked very good. To start, a choice of rabbit brawn with potato salad, or tea smoked mackerel salad with gooseberry dressing. Ean chose the rabbit brawn.

The main was either slow cooked pork collar with cauliflower macaroni cheese, or fish pie. Ean, carnivore that he is, went for the pork collar. And this is what had been luring me in as well.

And for dessert, Banbury cakes with potted stilton, or Sussex Pond pudding. And, to Ean’s everlasting satisfaction, he had the Banbury cakes.

For our part, we began with some of the snacks.

We had the Devils on Horseback – prunes injected with a mango chutney and then wrapped in bacon. These were chewy, with salt from the bacon, the mix of flavours almost that of a fig. Small and good, they did what an appetizer should, which is to get you salivating.

For a wine, Ean had spotted a Washington State Pinot Gris on the menu, from Chateau Ste Michelle. This was very fresh, kicking up and to the sides of the roof of your mouth. The ash from Mt. St. Helen must still be doing some good.

Sue and I both homed in on the duck and smoked guinea fowl terrine with spiced apples as our starter. This was, as you’d expect, rich. Very rich and satisfying, and the flower of spiced green apple sheets interleaved with beets went well with the richness in the terrine (ah, that layer of fat from the duck liver).

Ean’s brawn, in contrast, wasn’t brawny enough to stand up to these flavours, and so he was content not to share in ours (although we fell upon his). But, while his brawn was delicate, the potato salad had strength enough for both, and was an excellent complement.

Yoonhi, across the table, had ordered the roast onion tart with goats cheese, taking her back to happy meals in Luang Prabang at the Apsara. This came camouflaged ‘neath a shroud of watercress. A good tart

We ordered the triple cooked chips for the table. Boiled and cooled, then fried and cooled, and then finally finished in a fry, they were, as advertised, fluffy on the inside and crisp on the outside.

Sue had ordered the whole plaice, shrimps, capers and parsley as her main course. The fish was unremarkable, the flesh of the plaice being relatively neutral, just there to carry the sauce.

Yoonhi was having the white bait with lemon mayonnaise, having decided to make up her meal of appetizers. These small herring (I think they’re herring) are cooked and eaten whole as bar snacks. The breading and frying taking away too much of the fishiness for my tastes.

Another interesting side was the brocolli with anchovies. The salt in the anchovies worked very well with the gentleness of the brocolli.

And her other dish was the potted shrimps with watercress salad, a tasty little thing packed with tiny shrimps.

Ean’s pork was quite good, and the cheese macaroni very pleasant, but he was unhappy with the portioning, feeling that another slice (and these were thin cuts) would have been appropriate. But I tried a taste, and the richness of the meat and the gravy it was served with were both excellent.

Myself, I’d been torn. As I’d said, I’d had my eye upon that pork. There was also the Balmoral venison cheeseburger, and, most attractive of all, whole roast grouse with braised savoy cabbage, bread sauce, and bacon. That grouse was very tempting.

But I decided in the end on that staunch traditionalist, the shepherds pie with lamb shoulder, breast and sweetbreads.

I’m a sucker for sweetbreads.

The pie was served with a good selection of the ingredients on top of the potato, where they’d crisped nicely, countering the gravy goodness of the meats and veg underneath the blanketing.

This left us on the doorstep of dessert.

It seems the more and more that I claim to not be a dessert person, the more often I indulge.

As noted, Ean’s Banbury cakes with potted stilton were remarkable. This was one of the dishes where Heston Blumenthal had been making use of the lab equipment at Reading’s university, breaking down the smells to get the right combination. The cake, on its own, is very much a savoury rather than a dessert. The potted stilton, on its own, is rather just there. But, put together, the flavours of the currant filled cake and the cheese hang richly in your mouth. Ean took wine, water, and coffee, and still he enjoyed the taste.

Sue had the treacle tart with milk ice cream, for which she substituted full cream. This was, as the name would suggest, treacly, well matched with the dairy product.

For myself, I had to try the chocolate wine ‘slush’ with millionaire shortbread. This (and Yoonhi’s, still to come) were old traditional recipes that have been resurrected, and came with a brief note on the history of the dish. In my case, chocolate wine went back to the 1660s, hot (or cold) on the heels of the first chocolate deliveries from the New World. They would blend a strong wine (claret or port) with the sugar and chocolate, whisking them together. I have to add in their quote from William Salmon who had a version of this in 1710:

“If made with Wine, Eggs &c. it provokes Lust much, increases Seed, and adds to the Vigour of Procreation.” This comes thanks to Ivan Day

Yoonhi went for the quaking pudding. This was a thing of cream, sugar and cinnamon, cooked three times and finished on a steaming. The texture comes out much like a panna cotta. The result is hard to get across with a still photo, so I’ve fallen back upon YouTube to get the right idea.

This pudding came about when, in the 17th century, cooks found that they could use cloth bags and bowls for setting dishes, rather than in gut, as with black pudding and sausages. This opened up the opportunity for making a lot more pudding, and there was an explosion on this front. The quaking pudding was a popular dish, mild in flavour, and entertaining in its undulations, and was found in cookbooks up through the early 19th century.

A still shot really doesn't do credit to this dessert..

The flavour, as described, was gentle, the cinnamon coming through nicely. I wonder why it fell out of favour two hundred years ago?

Lunch done, we set out for a stroll through the village.

Next door, of course, is the Fat Duck itself. We arrived to pay homage at least to the menu in the window, and then Heston Blumenthal came out with a party of diners.

When they were done, we did take the opportunity to pass our compliments on the meal. When Ean mentioned the Banbury Cakes, Heston’s face lit up. It must be one of his favourites, as his reaction was a lot of fun to see.

After that we wandered through the lanes, and found ourselves by the Thames soon enough, outside of Alain Roux’s The Wateside Inn. And from there we were through the churchyard and its cemetery, returning the back way to our car.

This could be a nice village to retire in.

[Home, Sweet Home Counties]

Enough nigh-rurality. This was to be our day out in Reading. Out and about in the big city. Talk of breweries had stirred me to action.

Plus, we’d need to find some lunch.

We took the train up, enjoying the view of the embankment as we sped Westwards (“I thought there was more of a view?”).

In Reading – minding our pockets ‘gainst pickers – we came out through the station to a day of blue skies and red brick.

Ambling through the streets, we admired the restored brickwork of this Roman city. It’s all been cleaned up, giving a roseate hue to the old university town. Reading does get some nods as a research university, and Heston Blumenthal has made some use of their equipment in establishing what could work with what. If that’s not a claim to fame for a university, what is?

We wandered through Marks & Spencer’s and admired their food selection. I enjoy a market and the goods they profer just about anywhere. There may not be blood in gutters and fish guts on the counter, but the lure of food is always there.

One specialty item that Ean brought to our attention was M&S’ crispy unsmoked bacon strips. We weren’t to leave without buying some of this.

We found Charles, and he gave us directions to Zero Degrees, the microbrew he’d recommended the day earlier. In particular, he’d spoken of a Watermelon Lager that they’d been making.

To get there, we walked back up the street until we found a lane across from Smelly Alley (more later). This took us out to St. Mary’s and a walk diagonally across its graveyard.

And then we were stuck. There was a choice of two directions to take.

Lost, we resorted to our cell phones.

You’d know it would be right in front of us, wouldn’t you?

After the restored tradition of the Belvedere, this was a slap in the face to wake you up. Slick, modern, the rooms designed as a backdrop to the gleam of the stainless steel of the brewery. Last year they took the CAMRA (CAMpaign for Real Ale) award for best pub design.

There are four of these about the country – here, Bristol, Cardiff, and Blackheath.

The pub stretches through the block, with plenty of seating inside, an upstairs patio out past the tanks, and a few tables streetside out back.

We sat down outside on Gun Street to people watch and enjoy the air….okay, mainly to people watch. Our first three beers were to be an Elderflower Lager, a Mango Lager, and a Vienna Dark.

The Watermelon Lager, it seems, had come and gone. This just goes to show the transience of life.

Yoonhi had already cracked open the bacon strips. I see what Ean means about the addictive nature of these things. They’re not so much crispy as jerky, pulling a little as your teeth bite through them. The combination of salt and pork, matched with a cloudy beer and vanishing sunset isn’t a bad thing at all.

The mango (4.2%), while different, was too sweet and overly fruity for our tastes. The Elderflower (4.2%) – already familiar from yesterday’s cordial – was a success, that smell of an old woman’s knickers tied in with the related floweriness of the hops. Contrast that with the aggressive bitterness of the Vienna dark (4.8%), and it was a hard decision as to which would be the favourite.

Which meant we had to drink some more.

Next was a repeat of the elderflower (for Yoonhi) and the pale ale and weissbeer. The pale ale (4.8%) woke me right up, with a flavour of brown woods and nuts.

The weissbeer (4.6%), for its part, while looking like a dangerous hospital sample, was amazingly fresh and clear in taste. I’m used to these being more cloying in the palate, but this one washed through. When finished, it left a delightful scum on the bottom of the glass.

At this point, general consensus placed the Elderberry in the lead, with the Weissbeer and the bitter Austrian (don’t mention the war) next. But that is mainly as I felt they were both good beers. Ean didn’t share my admiration for the pale ale, but I would still drink it in favour of the others.

We’d ordered some bar snacks to keep hunger at bay. A bowl of chips seemed like a necessity, and these came thin and crisp, with a ying yang of ketsup and mayonnaise.

Yoonhi ordered olives, one of my favourite nibbling snacks. When I was young they were something you only had twice a year – at Thanksgiving and Christmas. As I get older and older, I don’t snack as much anymore. But I’ll always make room for an olive or two (especially if its in a chilled glass with gin and vermouth).

Sue arrived to find us in the best of moods. Ean was explaining the ancient Australian custom of playing Colonel Pouf, tapping the bottom and top of the table while attaining a state of higher consciousness, when she arrived. The weather had lost its luster, and rain was almost upon us, so we retreated across the pub to the front of the house, taking a window table looking out onto the church tower.

We’d planned originally for Forbury’s for lunch, but you know how these things go. Given a choice of walking somewhere, or having another pint……..

The menu here was very much that of a pub – given over to a Mediterranean styling (at least they weren’t doing gaeng keaw with everything). Nothing special, but not bad (with one exception). The big disappointment for me was that it had been the mussels that had drawn me to the menu, but, being a Monday, they weren’t on.

Obviously we ordered more beers (with the exception of Sue, who much prefers grape to grain). Ean returned to the Weiss, while I found they had a black lager (4.6%). This was full of chocolate malt, much more of a stout than a lager, but not quite as creamy as a Guinness, while much fresher than a Guiness.

Ean had the prawns in spiced tomato sauce. The prawns themselves were plump, and juicy, fuller than what I’m used to. The sauce was lightly spiced (by my standards) and overall not a bad dish.

Following that as a starter, next was a ceasar salad with chicken.

Yoonhi started with some bruschetta topped with mozzarella and caramelized garlic, tomatoes and olives, alongside a salad of fresh greens and corn.

As a main for her, it was a sample dish of penne gorgonzola, with a thick cheese sauce and walnuts back in there somewhere.

Sue had the jarring note, a starter of stuffed mushroom. The problem with this wasn’t in the flavour, but rather in the portioning. While a porcini is a good size, it does seem a bit much to be charging one mushroom out at 4 pounds something.

For me, it was a pizza. Thin crust and centre-pieced by a mound of greens with some squeeze action mayonnaise. The pleasant surprise to this was in the walnuts sitting about like brains on the top. When I eat a walnut, especially a warm one like these, I just have pleasant Italian thoughts in my head.

Honestly, we should’ve gone to Forbury’s. I found out later that Reading was doing a Local Flavours Festival, and that Forbury’s was doing special menus as part of it. What we had was fair enough, but it was very much the sort of meal you put on at a large modern pub. Nothing wrong, but nothing special.

However, you have to balance that against the weight of a few pints in our stomachs. I don’t know about you, but my stomach weighs in quite formidably.

After another round of beers, it was time to wander out. The clouds were breaking up, and the sun was back.

On my list of things to see in Reading was the Sweeney & Todd Pie Shop. As this was just across the way from Zero Degrees on Castle Street (we’d been staring at it from our earlier seating on Gun), it seemed sensible to take it in.

It was a fine assortment that they had, with at least twenty two standards on the menu, and a few specials about – such as cheese and vegetable, chicken and leek, five nations, ham and cherry, and “Sweeneys”.

The pies are on sale up front, but a trip up the stairs and there’s comfortable seating for a couple of dozen.

And they have beer.

Well, you knew we weren’t going to just pass by, didn’t you?

On tap were MaltnHops and 6X from Wadsworth, Adnamsbitter, and Tangle Foot, my favourite breakfast beverage.

I decided on an Adnam’s, while Yoonhi had a half of the MaltnHops.

For pies I had the venison and boar; Sue had the Sweeney’s, I believe, which contained lamb and pork and vegetables; and Ean…..after that many pints, you’ll forgive me if I don’t quite remember what Ean had.

While they do proclaim that no products contain artificial flavouring or additives, they do warn you with “Please note – all game pies may contain lead shot”.

Yoonhi was getting close to the end of her capabilities, and so refused the pie and settled on a rhubarb crumble with custard. And that darned near finished her.

Sue mentioned an interesting item as we slowly fed down on the pastry and filling. In Cumbria, on the M6 there lies the Westmoreland Services, the only privately held motorway service in the country. Sue spoke fondly of the farm produce and prepared goods to be had there.

I have to get out of London more. There's way too much fun out here to be missing.

I quite enjoyed my pie, filling me out as it did for the afternoon. But I’m a sucker for game of any sort.

Coming out of the restroom, I spied the pastry machine across the way. I wonder if Yoonhi would let me have one?

The service was cheerful and bright, and just reminded me that I was getting older and older – both in that my memory couldn’t keep up with the pies she’d called from the front of the list, and the fact that young people can be so continuously happy.

Talking with the proprietor, they do some 400 pies a day, around 3000 a week, a production rate that goes up to 5000 at Christmas time. The pies are sold here, and make their way into many of the pubs from here to London.

Much of the material comes from his uncle the butcher, who has a shop selling a lot of game just up the street. It’s a handy relationship, I can see.

Content, and with a few restaurant recommendations from the owner (he spoke very well of the wine cellars at the Vineyard), we staggered out onto the street.

We were heading for Smelly Alley.

Smelly Alley took its name ages ago when it was lined with fishmongers and butchers. Now there seemed to only the one place left for fish, some grocers, the lone butcher, and a Philipino market. The rest of the street seemed given over to pedicures and such.

We were too late for the fish, as they were just closing out. But the butcher was open. I admired the cuts in the window, and then, peeping around, saw the sign up for the offal selection. This would make Bourdain weep in happiness.

I turned around from the signs and was faced with beautiful hangings of chorizo, pepperoni, and biltong. I couldn’t help it, the wallet was out. I loaded up, thanked him, and we headed back towards the car.

On the way, we passed by Perfect Chicken & Ribs. Above the door was a sign – Halal. I can see the donair and the chicken and the kebabs, but how do you do pork ribs “halal”?

I made one lone, sad attempt to get everyone to stop in for some Cornish pasties and then a final pint at Hobgoblins. I was wondering if they’d have the same ale they had in Roppngi , the Dog’s Bollocks, but my compatriots, groaning under pies and ale, weren’t having any of it.

Wedged into the car, Sue drove the three of us home, me hanging out the window like a dog on an outing seeing what I could see.

Back home in the late afternoon, I felt it was a reasonable time for a wee pint and some writing.

I was drinking the second of the trio from Sainsbury’s, a Bath Ales Barnstormer, a rich dark bitter, with a bit of fruit in there. From the lable it’s a mix of marisotter, chocolate, and crystal malts, together with Bramling Cross hops. Fine filtered.” I settled into this, and tried to accomplish something useful in the run up to dinner.

Dinner was later in the evening (I accomplished little), as the boys were both at work today. They came home hungry. Sue was ready for them.

Dinner tonight was a selection of seafood. Lobster, crab farci, shrimp, smoked salmon and smoked trout, and smoked mackerel.

Alongside of this was a salad of avacados and those fine little tomberries. They just pop in your mouth, with almost the perfect ratio of skin to meat.

We’d move back to pinot grigio again, which did a remarkable job of reviving our appetites in order to let us keep up with Daniel and Charles.

Everyone done in for the day, the muse of sleep overtook us.