Come Dine with Amie: An Autumn Evening in Paris, 30th October 2010.

I have a terrible sense of direction, and a memory that is becoming as bad. I knocked on a door, and found myself being ushered into a party, and had to shout ‘I’m at the wrong house! Sorry!’ before running next door to Amie’s. It was the night before Halloween but our evening was going to be far more sophisticated; a French-themed fourth instalment of our Come Dine with Me competition.

The kitchen was warm and full of tempting aromas. The lovely hostess was gorgeously attired and incredibly calm. I was the first to arrive…or so I thought until surprise guest, (the seldom seen) Mish descended the stairs! With Amie’s two housemates also joining us, Amie was cooking for 10! I’d struggled to cook for 8 people, so I was astounded by her calm demeanour as she was cooking for the largest number of guests so far in the competition.

The table was of course beautiful, and contained what has become the CDWM staple - sparkly table confetti. But there was more than just sparkly stuff on the tables…olives and marinated artichokes too – I hoped the others would turn up soon! The promise of a feast was making me hungry!

Eventually the other guests arrived and we enjoyed our aperitifs (bubbly enhanced with crème de cassis) before taking our seats and taking part in the ritual of reading the menu.

Amie had created not one, but two menus! One entirely translated into French! We were invited to ‘Come Dine With (A)mi(e)’, and enjoy an ‘Autumn Evening in Paris’.

We had a selection of hors d’oeuvres to start – saucisson, pate (home made by Amie’s uncle in France), and towers of French toast, with a tomato salad, along with the yummy olives and artichokes which had marinated nicely.

So far so good, but I was somewhat filled with trepidation at reading the next item on the menu….

I’d never eaten snails before. If offered to me at a restaurant I’d politely but firmly decline. But hey, this was Come Dine With Me and everything had to be sampled for the good of the competition. Armed with only cocktail sticks, we tried our best to skewer the elusive snails inside the shells and very thankfully they tasted good! The garlic, parsley and butter sauce was actually quite heavenly – I love garlic, and was particularly good when mopped up with the crusty bread.

We were certainly in need of a palate cleanser after all the garlic and a lemon, lime, mint and gin sorbet did the trick. The serving was huge and left our mouths feeling lemony fresh, (leading to some awfully low quality humour about cleaning products).

But enough of that – it was time for mains! Chicken Chasseur in a mushroom and red wine sauce, with French beans and an absolutely indulgent creamy potato gratin. We were quietly told that this dish actually originated from Amie’s (welsh) grandmother, but it was most definitely sophisticated and accomplished enough to pass for French!

Photo by Jerome Taylor (of course!)

It wouldn’t be a French meal without a plateau de fromages though, and the even though we’d stuffed ourselves, we soon cleaned the cheese board. Amie had sourced a particularly lovely selection – the brie stands out in my memory, but I remember enjoying it all.

Somehow, we still had space for dessert – and I’m so glad we did as it was an extravagant one! Orange and ricotta cheesecake with a chocolate base, and I have to say the BEST meringues in the world! A last minute addition (they weren’t even on the menu), these were incredible – firm but slightly soft and squidgy on the inside – I’d never had any that good before!

Another photo from Jerome - many thanks!

All good things must come to an end, and very finally was home-made coffee ice-cream. I don’t drink actual coffee, but this was perfect – it was an intense hit of coffee flavour, but cold and milky and sweet and the ideal thing to end the feasting.

The evening, in true CDWM style, carried on until the early hours (we even utilised the extra hour that accompanied that night’s move back to GMT) with much noise and laughter. As I finally fell into bed (I’d been partially wearing my pyjamas for about 4 hours at this point), I was almost sad that we were nearly at the end of our competition, where we’d been treated to home cooked feasts that had all been put together with endless amounts of effort, attention to detail and innovation) but one final meal remains, (and very best of luck to them – the standard remains impeccably high!)

Come Dine with Sofia and Jerome: A Taste of the Orient. August 14, 2010

This rather great photo was taken by our lovely hosts,

Uncharacteristically late, flustered and still clutching an umbrella despite the sweltering humidity, I found myself swept into a circle of champagne clinking, as I arrived at the third instalment of our Come Dine with Me competition. The bubbly presented in neon pink flutes, perfectly matched our hostess’ dress, and immediately set the tone of what was to be an evening filled with fantastical food, frivolous drink and frequent posing for the camera.

Fia and J, exuded nothing but calm as we took our seats at the beautifully decorated table and examined our elaborate menus with joy, (well…those of us who’d already taken our turns to host the competition were gleeful. The others felt competitive fear. Extreme competitive fear). Being one of the former group, I was astounded by the variety and culinary confidence promised by the 7 course oriental extravaganza promised by the menu. As well as being extensive, the menu was decorated with Chinese symbols, that literally translated into ‘food, glorious, food’ (well, ‘food’, ‘glory’,’ food’ - but you get the idea).

My stomach was rumbling, so thankfully there wasn’t long at all to wait for the first of our three (!!) starters; Vietnamese prawn summer rolls (goi cuon nuoc chan), served with chilli dipping sauce. These entirely reworked my preconception of ‘spring rolls’ and their deep-fried oily nature, as these ‘summer rolls’ were made of rice paper so thin it was almost translucent and didn’t require any cooking (therefore served at room temperature making them an ideally refreshing dish in the unexpectedly warm weather). Cool and crunchy as they were, the flavour was spot on, and accentuated by the kick of a glorious chill sauce (which was also very artistically presented).

 

Our appetites whet, we were soon ready for the second starter of a hot and sour thai soup (tom yam aed), with large chunks of oyster mushroom. These mushrooms were amazing - intensely velvety, soaking up the strong flavours – real lip smacking goodness. The ingredients had been sourced from authentic asian supermarkets, and it showed as each dish was truly singing with flavour. This continued into the third and perhaps my favourite starter (if I had to choose a favourite – I’d loved everything so far), the ‘yum wun sen sai mu’ (a Thai glass noodle salad with pork), served with ‘Bejing Bellini’! I’d worried that post-soup my appetite might not be ready for a third starter but the delicacy of the glass noodles, combined with the meaty juicyness of the minced pork, was heavenly, and we couldn’t help but devour it all.

We were certainly ready for our palate cleanser by this point. But this was no -neutral-and-not-all-that-exciting-sign-of-slight –pretension-palate-cleanser... Oh no: this was a sorbet. A GIN AND TONIC SORBET! What an utterly genius idea (and surely the only way to make a G&T even better)! Served daintily in shot glasses, we raucously demanded more of this heavenly creation! Made with an ice-cream maker this was a wonderfully boozy but refreshing and tangy slush-puppy of a drink. We consumed copious amounts increasing merriment, hilarity and hangovers the next morning.

After some silliness, posing and rapping, it was time for the main course – a Sumatran lamb curry had been promised. Being Indian, my idea of a curry is a distinctly sauce-y affair. But this was entirely different! The lamb had been slow roasted to melt-in-the-mouth perfection and served shredded, without sauce but still juicy. A wondrous concoction when served with pretty mounds of jasmine rice with a star-anise daintily placed on top. Once again, our plates were soon empty as we marvelled at the deliciousness of all we’d eaten so far.

Yet, still there was more! Dessert – Sofia’s speciality – was spectacular! Individual spongy chocolate spongy fondants were served hot, oozing with melting chocolate so intense that the cooling (home made) green tea ice-cream was a real pleasure to eat with it (who doesn’t love the hot/cold dessert combination)? If possible - it tasted even better than it looked.

A pomegranate gin cocktail was followed by yet more G&T sorbet as the evening took a decidedly more hazy boozy turn, complete with much photo-posing, uber-competitive ‘Articulate’, and just as competitive ‘Singstar’. Somewhere amongst the late night singing we took time to record our video diaries and score our hosts on their evening. Whilst I can’t reveal my score just yet, I really truly was astounded at how every single dish was beautifully presented, inventive and most importantly bursting with flavour. I’m really really hoping that they cook for me again…

The Bathhouse, 7-8 Bishopsgate Churchyard, London, EC2M 3TJ

Sometimes it’s easy to miss things so incongruous that they should stand out a mile away. At least, that’s how justify my managing to complete a full circuit round Old Broad Street, Liverpool Street Station and Bishopsgate without spotting the compact Victorian Turkish bathhouse building in the centre of a courtyard of high rise offices. Filled with City workers enjoying the last of the Friday evening sunshine, the pretty, mosaic covered exterior of The Bathhouse looked worryingly tiny. However, once down a spiral staircase where the gorgeously ornate dining room was surprisingly expansive. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden lack of light, I could appreciate the room sumptuously decked out in dark flocked wallpaper, with dramatic red velvet drapes and tables filled with candlesticks. The polished marble floors and almost secret underground location made for a welcome escape from the heat and crowds outside.

A club and venue (music, DJ Sets, burlesque shows) on various other nights of the week, during our Friday night visit The Bathhouse was in dedicated restaurant mode, although we admired the ‘Golden Birdcage’ DJ booth behind our table. Classical music and candlelight made for a romantic atmosphere, (although I did feel the prettiness of the surroundings would have been lost on a boy).

As I’m fairly easily excited by quirks and attention to detail, I was quite delighted to find our menus were folded and sealed with candlewax, and our wine list was found within the pages of an aged encyclopaedia (sharing pages with medical diagrams and pictures of weapons – cool huh?).

The menu looked exciting, with organic produce from British suppliers, which was impressive – especially for a place where there was a risk that they’d be more focused on the entertainment side of things rather than the food. Service was also notably friendly, which might not be expected as such a trendy venue.

Starters of ‘Crab & smoked haddock cakes with baby watercress and a quenelle of tartar cream’ and ‘Breaded Camembert with dressed baby leaves and raspberry conserve’, were flavoursome, of a good size, and particularly notable for the quality of the extremely posh tartar sauce (although I’m still not sure exactly what a quenelle is).

Kathleen’s main course ‘Confit of Middle White pork belly, served with a veal bone marrow risotto & crackling’ sounded brilliant (although, as someone who’s not meant to eat beef, I though veal bone marrow was more guilt than I would be able to handle), so I opted for the ‘Coq au Riesling, free range British chicken cooked in a Riesling white wine sauce with baby onions & smoked pancetta, served with sourdough’.

 

The slow-cooked chicken bathing in the boozy sauces with the salty pancetta made for a satisfyingly comforting main course. Kathleen revelled in the meatiness of her risotto and the crispness of the crackling. Portions were large, and we were perhaps wondering whether these were the most suitable dishes for a hot summer evening.

Thankfully, although we were feeling well fed, neither of us believed that would justify skipping dessert. Eton Mess (with popping candy), chocolate pot with home made shortbread, Elderflower and prosecco martini jelly, were all worthy contenders. However, filled with delusions that Earl Grey panacotta with Kendal Mint cake would be a light and palate cleansing dessert option, we both chose it. Whilst sadly there was very little bergamot flavour coming through, the creamy panacotta was well accompanied by the silvers of the mint cake, although light it certainly was not, and I was defeated even by the innocuously small looking portion.

 

Fairly pricey under normal circumstances, my Gourmet Society card gave us 50% off the food making it really quite reasonable. The waitress apologised that service hadn’t been super speedy, but we’d actually found it to be a perfect pace. The toilets were decorated in a slightly risqué manner (not a bad thing), and the ambience was great – plenty of diners without it feeling frantic or feeling like we were packed in too closely together.

A definite success and a definite recommendation. I imagine it’s difficult to get in when it is in club/gig mode (the bouncers on the door as we left indicated that), but for Friday evening dinner, it felt like a beautiful and successfully quirky place quite different to what you might expect in the City.

The Pineapple, Lake End Road, Dorney, Bucks, SL4 6QS

Beautiful weather and many weeks of hard work, called for a well deserved lunch-time escape to the village of Dorney.   Although Dorney is home to a manor house, a rowing lake (a venue for the 2012 Olympics), and the first pineapple grown in England, in the eyes of the hungry folk who work round this way, it is most importantly home to sandwiches of IMMENSE proportions at The Pineapple pub.

Immense isn't a word I'm using lightly... it applies to the gigantic size of the sandwiches, the generosity and quality of the fillings, and perhaps most of all, the choice.  Lunch here is such a ritual for anyone working in the area, just about every person in our office has a menu saved somewhere on their desktop.  And for good reason.  Each trip is preceded by much deliberation pouring over the menu (sometimes for hours, or even sleeping on it before making a final decision), as the menu is extensive.  The imaginative menu  of almost 80 selections, extends into around 400 different options as each can be served on "crusty white bloomer, wholegrain brown, toasted bagel, tortilla wrap or french baguette" and then technically into over different 1000 variations as each can be served with chunky chips, soup or salad.  Always generously filled (for example with substantial slices of just-roasted meats), it's a fine art to construct an option that won't be so huge it defeats you (although, if it does, they will obligingly pack it up for you to take away).

(C) The Pineapple

Understandably, there is a downside.   Options inevitably lead to much time between ordering and eating.  But this is ok, as whether it's a group of 12 or a group of 2, you can phone in orders before 11am, and spare the lengthy wait.

My love of beer gardens is well documented on these pages, and The Pineapple has an enviable one (which appears to be recently revamped).  A bit of a sun trap, it's quite a delight even when one considers the proximity of the main road.  With plenty of tables it is always a far better option than sitting indoors during a busy lunch service, as although the pub has character, it often feels cramped rather than cosy.

We enjoyed some beautiful sunshine out on the decked area of the garden today.  Being experts at dining at The Pineapple we were there early to beat the crowds, and we'd of course pre-ordered.  Some dishes, such as The Screaming Banger (sausages and chilli relish) or The Christmas Dinner, are best enjoyed on hugely thick slabs of bread.  However, a bagel or a wrap, whilst perhaps seen as a bit of a cop-out, are good for The BBC (Bacon, brie, cranberry), or the Smokey Blue Mountain (bacon, blue cheese and leafy salad).  The advantage of wraps, are that they leave space to enjoy the satisfyingly chunky chips, so even though Sharon was fondly remembering the Fisherman's Friend (fishfingers and tartar sauce), wraps were quite literally the order of the day.

'By the Bayou' was a previously untried choice for me, and I was  pleasantly surprised.  'Blackened' chicken was thankfully not charred, but had a Cajun seasoning that wasn't overpowering, but with a good kick, tempered by a honey mustard dressing, which wasn't too sweet on account of the leafy salad and the spicy chicken, but was a little too much in Sharon's Chicken Licken (but she reported the avocado to be a good addition).

We had in summation, a really lovely lunch (and even though we split a portion of chips and a portion of salad between us, we didn't manage to finish either - with a fixed price of about £7 for a main course this is pretty great value if you go for the giant sandwich option).  Despite it only being a Thursday the indoors and outdoors soon filled up, so it is worth noting that arriving early can dramatically improve your dining experience.  The car park is always overflowing, but parking can always be found on the road, or in the small (free) car park by the Jubilee River, just about 100 yards down the road from the pub.  The toilets could definitely do with a revamp, and this isn't always a great place to visit in winter in a large group, but for a relaxed summer afternoon, it is pretty great and definitely worth a visit.

(To preorder or reserve a table, call The Pineapple on 01628 662353.  Lake End Road, Dorney, Bucks, SL4 6QS)

Cake Glorious Cake! (The Beeches Cafe, Burnham Beeches).

I love cake perhaps more than I love anything else...

This interest stems perhaps from my student days in Durham, where truly awe-inspiring mammoth cakes of infinite variety were served up in giant slabs at Cafe Continental, and where cosy Wednesday afternoons disappeared a haze of tea and cakes in Vennel's.  Cake always succeeded in soothing our (constantly hungry) souls when faced with night after night of seriously disappointing College Food.

There's no time I crave tea and cake more than Sunday late afternoons (almost exactly from the point at which all shops close, making cake difficult to procure, especially when my baking skills leave a great deal to be desired).

But, I no longer need to worry!  I have found a place!  A place that can give me a glorious cake fix, as late as 6pm on a Sunday!

It's hard not to like Burnham Beeches (especially when you live as close to it as I do).  Despite being owned by the ominous sounding 'Corporation of London' it's really lovely woodland area.  Visiting late on a sunny Sunday afternoon, you can have the place mostly to yourself (and a few squirrels and the odd bunny rabbit in clearings that would make amazing picnic spots). 

But really, the main reason to visit, is for the Beeches Cafe.  Whilst Sharon's extolled the pleasures to be found in their flapjack, on each visit, I've been unable to pay any attention to anything but the small variety of ever changing, wonderful looking home made cakes!  On the last visit Coffee and Walnut cake ruled supreme - this visit the choice was between an elegant iced cake, a sumptuously sticky looking tower of zesty lemon cakes, or, the choice I finally made of the carrot cake beauty below.

It was everything you could desire from a cake.  Moist and light.  Lovely nutty texture.  Icing that was the perfect balance between sweet and tangy.  Blissful, and bargainous at only £1.90 for each generous slice.

The cafe itself serves from a hut in the centre of an open grassy area with outdoor seating - perfect for catching the late afternoon sun.

Highly recommended!

Come Dine With Me 2010: Part 2. Ushi's Sloughdog Millionaire Dinner

Photos by Jerome Taylor

I’d been putting it off for weeks. I’d delayed on setting a date, being somewhat intimidated by the prowess of the first hosts during the first instalment of our Come Dine With Me competition, and I was rather distracted by the looming deadline of my 15,000 word dissertation (hence the lack of blog posts in April and most of May 2010). I had a vague idea of the menu – it had been established early on that I’d be cooking Indian food, being the only type of food I could possibly cook more impressively than my talented friends, but I had no theme or plans for entertainment.

I had a vaguely advantageous situation as I’d convinced everyone to stay over at mine after the meal, hence could utilise the ‘get everyone too hammered to criticize’ game plan! I sought inspiration in the Pornstar Martinis discovered in Rotterdam, although I decided to re-invent them as martinis of the ‘Bollywood Star’ variety.

Inspiration along these lines, came only four days before the event itself. A recent visit to Slough Museum, combined with a re-watching of The Office had left me feeling much pride in the town I’d been living in for the last 9 months. So a Slough theme appealed, but I couldn’t think of a way to combine it with the Indian Menu, until inspiration hit…’Sloughdog Millionaire.’ A theme that was partly Bollywood, partly rejoicing in Slough (by virtue of being held there), and with some ‘Millionaire’ game show entertainment. Sorted. I sent out email invitations with mocked up Slumdog Millionaire posters which were received with some amusement (rather than ‘bemusement’ I hope) - no one even noticed I’d missed the ‘g’ out of ‘Slough’.

My main course and dessert I’d been testing on a number of guests over the previous few months, so I felt pretty confident with my chicken curry and vegetable rice with cucumber raita. My dessert – individual Baileys tiramisu wasn’t bad, but previous incarnations hadn’t been quite right in terms of cream and liquid and biscuit ratio. I had however sourced better receptacles for the individual desserts, and taken on board Sharon’s advice on soaking the biscuit fingers until they were oversaturated with liquid, and thinned out the layer of mascarpone and Baileys infused cream, so I was hopeful that these would turn out well. Previously I’d made them without any drama, but making eight of the things the night before, proved to be far more fiddly and tricky than I’d anticipated…a job I expected to take an hour at most, turned into three…

Cooking the chicken curry involved having to use my parents’ kitchen, a 7am start and the biggest steel pot and spoon I’ve ever seen (my mother never ceases to amaze me when she produces ridiculously gargantuan cooking implements out of nowhere). It was a great help though, and ensured good mixing of all the spices (fresh chilli, ginger and garlic green paste is the secret, as well as cloves and cinnamon sticks when you start cooking).

As I was hosting on my own, I’d been granted special dispensation from the group to enlist some help in the cooking. Whilst I’d been faffing around with the tiramisu for hours on the previous evening, my mum had made the samosas to accompany my Bollywood Star Martini starter. I was massively thankful as I battled with a vegetable curry – Aloo Gobi (potato and cauliflower curry), as well as an apple and coriander chutney for the samosas and the cucumber raita. Rice would be made after the starters were served.

Another challenge was seating – given I can normally only seat three. I was counting on borrowing a folding table from my parents that, was until the morning of the meal, as good as mythical. I’d never actually seen it before and there were mutterings from my dad and sister that it was broken. I finally saw it just a few hours before the guests arrived - massively relieved that it was fairly study and of a good size, (and there’s nothing like some heavy duty tape to stick a slightly broken table back together).

The food was mostly cooked by early afternoon, and I quickly prepared my menus – on individual red crepe paper scrolls tied with silver ribbon. Not as hand drawn or as beautiful as the previous dinner, but not bad for a last minute job.

Then to decorate the table – my tour de force was my Bollywoodised Place Names – Greg Rukh Khan, Salman Khan Foley, Kajol Jayasinghe, Aishwarya Aldred, Amitabh Taylor Buchan, Sofia Mitra Mukerjee, Preity Amie Zinta would be joining me, Madushi Dixit, for dinner. Flowers, menus, candle sticks, tea lights, sparkly table confetti and a little pot of bubbles each, made for a fairly crowded table, (and a slightly drunken, but luckily not too destructive table fire later on in the evening).

The full menu (complete with Bollywood film style Acts and Intervals) was presented as follows:

Act 1

Pink champagne on the Veranda

Bollywood Star Martini with Samosas

Act 2

Chicken Curry with Vegetable Rice

Aloo Gobi

Cucumber Raita

Chapattis & Naan Bread

Interval

Act 3

Individual Baileys Tiramisu

Chai

I’d covered the walls in saris, put songs from the emotion-fest that is bollywood film Khabbie Kushie Khabbie Gham on the DVD player, and I’d prepared Who want to be a Millionaire style multiple choice questions about my guests. Literally an hour before the guests arrived, I’d spotted a ‘Millionaire’ board game in the charity shop across the road, for a princely sum of £2. Theme sorted!

The guests arrived and pink champagne was calmly served (champagne flutes began the great use every type of glass possible mission). Guests took their seats, blowing bubbles and comparing whose Bollywood names whilst I got the Bollywood Star Martinis ready.

Passion fruit and mango juice, much vodka and gin, sugar, ice and passion fruit seeds, served with a separate shot of cava. I had lovely martini glasses for the girls and manly tumblers for the boys (made slightly less manly by neon squiggly straws), and shot glasses all the way from Uzbekistan. Samosas accompanied the drink along with an individual serving of the chutney. Much topping up of drinks, quickly bought with it a genial and slightly burry atmosphere. As a result, cooking vegetable rice and some token chapattis for the main course, was a challenge too far, so I went for straightforward plain rice instead and naan bread (and hoped no one would notice).

Serving up the main course with rice in little mounds, chicken curry in small bowls and individual ramekins of cucumber raita, didn’t leave much room for the Aloo Gobi, and left me thinking I’d taken the ‘individual’ thing a step too far.

The small napkin/candle table fire was luckily moved from table to sink without catching fire to the saris on the wall. Post meal silliness involved my personalised ‘millionaire’ questions, more bubble blowing and a new game…Face Table.  All you need to play is sparkly table confetti, a slightly moist face, and a table!

Photos by Jerome Taylor
 Dessert went down well – the tiramisu turned out far better on this occasion than ever before to my delight!  Chai (Indian tea) which I’d only really made once before that morning (my parents were guinea pigs), had been greeted with enthusiasm when the guests first saw the menu, and I was relieved that I hadn’t offered a choice of various post dinner hot beverages, as by this point in the evening, simplicity was by far the best plan.

The evening continued for many more hours in a similarly entertaining fashion. I’d surprisingly stopped caring about winning quite early on the evening, as just having pulled off the evening without any disasters, and with appreciative guests, seemed like a brilliant thing to have accomplished. I recorded a witty and erudite video diary entry on my view of the evening, to find at 2am when I was in my pyjamas and far worse for wear, that none of the recording had actually worked, and that we’d need to re-record all our thoughts. So the actual video (when we finally see them all after the last meal we have), will consist of my drunken incoherent mumblings about how I’m now too old to not be in pyjamas at 2am. Fitting I think.

(Many thanks to Jerome Taylor for his beautiful photos).

The White Horse, Village Road, Hedgerley, SL2 3UY

I'm amazed I'd not written about The White Horse until now. Originally a Beer in the Evening find, it's my most favourite (relatively local) drinkery, and the place where I take all my distinguished visitors, in order to counteract the smokestacks and trading estate view from my flat. True to form, I whisked Laura from Slough Rail Station to the gorgeously rural village of Hedgerley.

From the moment we headed up 'One Pin Lane', and took delight at 'Christmas Lane', Laura expressed incredulous shock at the opulent houses and lush greenery - Toto I have a feeling we're not in Slough anymore...

Village Road itself is exactly how you'd imagine it - flanked by fields and a tiny church - we parked a short walk away, and found we weren't the only ones walking the final few yards to The White Horse (it's always busy- I've never attempted to squeeze into the car park). The timber-thatched building dates back to 1679, with nothing incongruously modern in the decor. Always busy, this is everyone's favourite pub. Two bar areas (one so tiny, I've frequently had to sit in the fireplace cubbyhole -see picture below courtesy of Lee on a previous visit), and a wonderful rambly garden, makes this place a delight.


The winner of many a Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) award, it boasts an immensely wide ranging selection of booze - from the aforementioned real ale, to properly potent cider, to a selection of Belgian Bottled Beers so large it's presented to those who ask, in a ring-binder.

 But my visit with Laura, was no normal day. The sun was shining to herald not only the start of the Bank Holiday Weekend, but also the 18th Annual White Horse May Bank Holiday Beer Festival, as we discovered with delight as we walked into the beer garden.


Although not yet 6pm on Friday, the large garden was full of relaxed drinkers, taking advantage of the huge bar tent serving 100s of beers - the atmosphere very much like we were in the garden of a friend. We found a quiet spot upon the steps of the children's playhouse, got ourselves a suitably frivolous raspberry beer and basked in the sun... Fruitily, frothily, delicious we marvelled at our good luck.

The Cricketers, Coronation Road, Littlewick Green, Maidenhead, SL6 3RA

It was dark. Whilst we could see a distant glimmer of a pub upon a village green, finding the road by which to reach it was a little more challenging. Once parked outside, I was pleasantly surprised by the bustle of people inside. As much as I love the Beer in the Evening website, the last Sunday night pub it led us to managed to be simultaneously hostile and empty. The Cricketers looked pretty from the outset (I imagined even more lovely in the summer when the green wasn't just a dark expanse), and once inside we were met with one of the friendliest and most chatty landlords experienced in a while, (how many times have you been entertained by an Alexander the Meerkat impression, by the person serving your drinks? And introduced to the selection of meerkat memorabilia behind the bar).

There was much in the way of Badger ales and slight touches of quirkiness in the knick-knacks dotted around the pub. Deep in conversation I didn't realise for a while that the crowd had disappated by about 9.30pm, and we were the only ones left (well, us and a couple of chubby birds...I'm sure they had lovely personalities):

I am quite a fan of slightly weird pubs (the appearance of the tiniest dogs in the world firmly put this pub in that category), particularly when they are friendly, old-fashioned and cosy as The Cricketers is. The toilets did let the side down somewhat- the Ladies are in definite need of a refurb, and I have it on good authority that there is a very unconventional colour scheme going on in the Gents. But hey, all good conversation topics! Didn't sample any food, but I hope to visit again and can highly recommend a visit.

Chez Marianne, 2 Rue des Hospitalières Saint-Gervais, 75004 Paris

As a child I was frequently told off for being impatient. I still struggle with it. Waiting for a table isn't something I do well, particularly as was the case at Chez Marianne, when faced (quite literally) with an array of pastries (pictured below), just inches from my nose, on one side of the queue, and a counter of take-away falafel on the other.

We looked enviously onto those lucky enough to have tables in the tiny dining room, the walls filled from from floor to ceiling with wine bottles (is there a better way to decorate a room?), trying to spot the people nearing the end of their meal, mentally urging them to leave.

My resolve weakened a number of times, as I debated internally on the likelihood of whether the queue would operate in a fair and proper manner. About 15 minutes into our wait, I even suggested that maybe myself and Pam should cut our losses, and opt for takeaway falalel instead (we'd sampled the best takeaway falalels I'd ever had, just round the corner on a previous visit to the Jewish Quarter a couple of years ago). Pam assured me that I wouldn't want to miss the delights on offer at Chez Marianne, so stomach rumbling (my hunger slightly surprising given the huge freshly-baked crossiant (avec extra beurre) I'd had for breakfast just a couple of hours previously) I took a quick walk round the block in a hunt for a cash machine, in the gorgeously cold but sunny weather, in the hopes that we'd have a table by the time I returned.

A short while later, we were intriguingly tapped on the shoulder by a waiter who gestured that we should follow him outside. "Great" I thought. "We're being forcibly ejected for being too hungry looking."

But all was well! We followed him outside and were led to an entirely separate dining room a little further down the street - how wonderful! Busy but feeling more roomy. No wine bottles decorating the walls, but mandolins (not bad). The food is Middle Eastern/Jewish/Kosher and mezze seemed to be a fantastic plan for lunchtime.

The system was for a plate of 4, 5 or 6 mezze choices each (or 10 for two people sharing) from a list where everything sounded delicious.

Sadly they were out of mushrooms, but I was still very utterly delighted with my plate when it arrived. My choices: falafel (just fried, so wonderfully hot and crispy), hummous and tzatziki (a joy to eat with the hot flatbread) and heavenly aubergines. Pam's plate varied from mine slightly with her pastrami and feta options.

The huge portions meant that we struggled to finish the misleadingly named 'petit' plates, but also resulted in really very good value for money. There was no space at all for any desserts (especially as we knew we had an afternoon at a spa ahead of us), but my day had already been made, and I was most definitely in agreement that this had been well worth the wait.

Pornstar Martinis and other delightfuls - Level, Pannekoekstraat 76-A, Rotterdam

Preparation...

The infamous 'Pornstar Martini' - gorgeous vanilla infused vodka, with passionfruit sours and vanilla syrup, served with a shot of prosecco. We had six.

Caipirinha (we had 5)

The 'Cookie Monster' - don't be fooled - it was very potent

Boozy blog post for you tonight...

Far too stylish for us, we soon scared off the few other Monday night drinkers with our noisy demands for Pina Coladas. Almost luckily, the lack of our usual team drink meant that we were able to sample a wide range of other boozy delights. Full cocktail menu here. Shulaika may not be able to return for a while, but I can highly recommend!

www.levelrotterdam.nl

Pannekoekstraat 76

A3011 LK Rotterdam,

Netherlands