Tapas Y Mas, Rechtstraat 83, Maastricht, The Netherlands

Gosh, I love Maastricht! It’s my first time visiting this historic and compact Dutch city on the border with Belgium, and I’m really enjoying the feel of the place, with its pretty shops, restaurants and relative proximity of everywhere (it feels like a real luxury to be able to walk to and from the office)! We had the benefit of L’s local knowledge as we headed out to dinner. We tried to visit the local Indonesian restaurant, but alas, it was packed on a Wednesday night, so we opted instead for the nearby Tapas Y Mas.

It was a welcome escape from the wind and rain, with the warmth and cosy décor adding to the atmosphere. We took the opportunity to enjoy the delicious house white wine in an unconventional decanter.

The menu is extensive, and everything looked appealing to our hungry eyes.

We decided to sample one option from each section of the menu, and ended up with a diverse and delicious range. It started with the simple: bread with garlic mayonnaise and incredibly tasty mixed olives.

Then we moved to the vegetarian dishes, with the sweet and crispy fried eggplant with cheese and honey, and the roasted tomatoes with goats cheese.

As we tucked in the dishes got even more exciting with a rich and deeply flavoured lamb stew, a substantial tortilla with smoked salmon and shrimps in olive oil and garlic.

Outside of Spain I’ve often found tapas to be disappointing, but there was no compromise on all the flavours we tasted. Each dish was much enjoyed, we were very pleasantly surprised by how much food we had for really excellent value. Would very strongly recommend for an authentic and super-tasty tapas experience!

Mo-zam-bik, Brooklyn, Pretoria, Gauteng, South Africa

It was tricky as a solo business traveller to South Africa, to really sample authentic cuisine. Luckily for me though, one of my hospitable local colleagues took me to one of her favourite restaurants, Mo-zam-bik in Brooklyn.

The traditional theme was immediately obvious from outside, with the hut style building (‘baraca’), busy already in the early evening. This continued inside with rustic touches such as paper on the tables, glass soft-drink bottles for candle holders and condiments, and most excitingly, instead of bread on the tables, there were warm ‘monkey nuts’ wrapped in paper cones on the tables. The atmosphere was relaxed (the restaurant aims to transport you to the beaches of Mozambik), and the service as it was everywhere in South Africa, was amazingly friendly. Our servers – Elizabeth and Beauty, could not have been more hospitable.

 

I ordered a Grape Fanta, and perused the wide ranging menu which offers seafood, steak and chicken, and also some moments of comedy: the no- chilli option was referred to as a ‘girls sauce’. There was also ‘chicken for Girls’ which had no bones and was ‘easy to eat’ – one of my sisters in particular would approve! Comedy aside, there was so much to choose from, I needed advice, and was recommended the Zambeziana ‘baby’ roast chicken with coconut milk, chilli and lime with spinach and rice.

This was no baby chicken. A huge plate arrived soon after, and I was thankful that we’d skipped starters. The chicken was delicious – the sauce zingy and the coconut milk comforting. The chilli sauce was up to my standards! Hotter than you’d find in the UK and with a good flavour.

I polished off as much as I could of the huge dish, but sadly then could not even contemplate dessert. I hope I get an opportunity to go back to sample more of the delicious cuisine!

The Commonwealth Kitchen, 25 Northumberland Avenue, London, WC2N 5AP

It was a moment to savour – I had finally discovered an exceptional restaurant in the most touristy part of London! Minutes from Trafalgar Square, The Commonwealth Kitchen is the holy trinity of special, affordable and fantastically located. Part of the Commonwealth Club, K had the pleasure of having visited previously due to her Foreign Office connections. If you weren’t in the know, you’d walk right by, (perhaps reflected in the fact that we were the only guests in the restaurant on a Tuesday night). However, the restaurant is open to non-members, and a long running special offer on this website, or the alternative of a bargainous set menu, makes it incredibly good value.

The restaurant is modern and sleek, but retains character with its artwork and eye-catching features, including a huge clock elevated over the dining room. We may have been the only diners in a large space, but it didn’t matter – the nicely designed circular booth counteracted the vastness of the room, and the friendliness of the staff ensured the atmosphere was relaxed.

We chose from the a la carte (which changes monthly), although the set price menu would also have been absolutely fine. Even though the menu was short, it offered many exciting options, even for me, the temporary (and somewhat reluctant) vegetarian.

We’d barely received our excellent glasses of Chardonnay, and Slovenian Quercus Pinot Bianco, when we were treated to complementary nibbles of parmesan palmiers, and a tasty hand-made crisps. This nice touch was followed by another, when we chose from a selection of beautifully presented bread. Far more exciting than your usual selection, I had a chilli option, and K some pain de campagne (country bread). The excitement didn’t end there; as we were then presented with an amuse bouche of a cherry tomato stuffed with mozzarella, which was simple but special.

Finally, we got onto mains proper. My chilled cucumber and mint soup was good for the warm evening, and presented like a drink! The richness of Westcombe cheddar scones (which were three cute little squares of sesame seed topped cheesy goodness) were a scrumptious contrast to the cool minty flavour.

K’s Soya barbeque Rhug estate pork belly, with pickled Norfolk radish, green tea and apple puree, was prettily presented with bite sized pieces of pork, topped with delicate slivers of radish.

We’d both opted for vegetarian main courses. K’s bubble and squeak, with glazed shallot, caramelised English chicory and butternut squash, had a brilliantly home-cooked flavour, but my main course won the prize for the best presentation!

This is NOT dessert

 

Looking like a sweet cheesecake with a raspberry coulis, my tastebuds were confounded by the deeply savory St Tola goats cheese cake, with beetroot, toasted pine nut hollandaise and swiss chard. Truly, this had top marks for presentation, and was a huge portion size, especially considering the richness of the creamy cheese, which was tempered by the beetroot.

Utterly stuffed, we didn’t have room for a dessert, but our curiosity got the better of us. We’d both been eyeing up the suitably summery strawberries gratin, blondie, champagne sabayon and balsamic ice cream, and finally decided that sharing one between us wouldn’t hurt (we convinced ourselves that portions would be small).

We were of course wrong, as a very generous portion of dessert (which looked like a main course), arrived. It was just too tasty to be concerned about being full. The sweetness of a blondie (a sugar version of a brownie of course), a foamy sabayon and coolness of the ice-cream was utterly divine with the strawberry pieces. It was a fantastic dessert – far more exciting than options found on most menus.

All in all, this really was one of the best meals I’d had in a long time. Being vegetarian hadn’t been an issue at all, and the entire experience was lovely from start to end. The staff were exemplary and all the food had been exciting and extremely tasty. I will certainly be coming here again!

Moro, 34-36 Exmouth Market, London, EC1R 4QE

I love food and eating out, but have a tendency to be completely oblivious of famous and fashionable places to dine.

Moro in Exmouth Market has been hugely popular since it opened in 1997, and it continues to be, demonstrated by the fact that we had to book around two weeks in advance.  Nigel Slater is a big fan (as he writes in this review), and in 2009 it was named 'Best Restaurant' by the Observer Food Monthly.  Despite all this, until K told me she had been wanting to eat here for years, I'd not heard of Moro, which specialises in Spanish and North African cuisine, and was created by chef couple Sam(uel) and Sam(antha) Clark.

Located in Exmouth Market, there was a buzzing atmosphere in the area, even on a tuesday.  It looked like a great location, full of exciting looking places to eat with diners and drinkers enjoying the late summer evening from outdoor tables. I spotted Moro's new sister tapas bar 'Morito', before I spotted Moro proper.

Spotting K was more difficult, given how busy the restaurant was (but luckily she found me).  Tables were packed in close together, however, this didn't seem to matter, given the buzzy vibrancy of the place.  The decor gave the place an exotic air, and the menu was a single page, changing on a weekly basis. 

I can see why Nigel Slater gave such high praise to the bread.  It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before, with a tangy (almost lemony) sourdough taste, and a dense, heavy texture.  It was utterly divine and simple all at once, and perfect with olive oil.

Everything on the menu looked delicious, but the prices were on the high side, so we decided to share a starter of Morrocan bread salad with argon oil, grilled peppers, olives and tomatoes.  It was a light, summery dish with heavily flavoured with the punchiness of coriander, red onion and harissa.  The bread element of the salad took the form of uber-crunchy croutons, and there was even the odd pomegranate seed.

Our appetites whet, expectations were high for the main course.  Given how busy it was in the restaurant, we knew there would be a bit of a wait.  I sipped a fiery and refreshing Fever Tree ginger beer.  (I'm a huge fan of ginger beer, and this one definitely met my approval).

Our mains arrived, looking even more appetising than we could have imagined.  Portion sizes were good, and I loved how each plate was full of exciting looking accompaniments to the perfectly cooked meat.  The dishes, even though they were very well presented, looked more like home-cooked cuisine, rather than the cheffy, overwrought, small portions you expect at trendy restaurants. 

I was delighted with my charcoal grilled lamb, with caramelised marrow, lemon, lentil pilav and yoghurt.  The warmth of the flavours and heartiness of the dish, again reminded me of home-cooking.  The lamb was juicy and tender.  The marrow melting and perfect.  The lentil rice was delicious, particularly with the thick and tangy yoghurt.  Everything tasted perfect.

K's dish, was also fantastic;  wood roasted pork with chanterelle and oyster mushrooms 'a la plancha', white beans and alioli.  Again, there was a slight heat to the flavours, and the variety of the elements and textures that made up the meal, (from juicy mushrooms to crunchy crackling) worked perfectly together. 

We ate so well, that sadly there was no room for dessert.  Instead we ended the meal with fresh mint tea, served from a glass teapot.  The mint leaf flavour was more delicate and refreshing than the stronger flavour of peppermint tea, and ended the meal fantastically.

On a final note, we loved the toilets.  The presence of l'Occitane toileteries and a huge map, (two of K's most favourite things), was a nice touch. 

I was so enamoured with Moro that as soon as I got home, I ordered one of their books.  I can't wait to visit again, and would implore you to visit as soon as you can, because this is a place that is even better than the hype.

The Hinds Head, High Street, Bray, Berkshire SL6 2AB

It's exciting to go somewhere that you recognise from the telly!  It was a special occasion, and neither of us had ever been to Heston Blumenthal's Hinds Head in Bray, despite living so nearby.  Billed as his more accessible restaurant (ie, we only had two book around 10 days in advance, and hopefully the experience wasn't going to bankrupt us),  my parents and sister had already visited, and had given it rave reviews (my sister particularly raving about triple fried chips and the best pie she had ever tasted). 

Rated as Michelin Pub of the Year in 2011, I wasn't sure whether it would be more like a pub, or a restaurant.   Our booking was at 8.45pm on a Friday, but it was very busy as we arrived, and it certainly did seem like any busy pub at upon first appearances.  We were a little early, but we were immediately shown to our table in the much more tranquil restaurant upstairs.  A cosy, low-timbered room, with a warm atmosphere, the majority of the tables were full, but we'd been given an optimal large table in the corner of the room, so we had plenty of space.  It reminded me of a brilliant place I'd eaten at in Germany, in a watermill. 

Everything exuded quality and attention to detail, from the service, to the super-light, shapely water glasses (lovely, the waitress agreed, but a nightmare to clean).    The dinner menu looked great but eye-wateringly pricey (steak and chips for £26 - although nothing compared to The Fat Duck's offerings at £180 per head), but the three course set menu, with two options for each course was bargainous in comparison, at just £27.50 each.

Naturally, we took great pleasure in ordering "everything from the set menu," as it all looked appealing, and we intended to each try a bit of everything.  Having heard so much about the triple-friend chips, we ordered one of those too. 

The service was spot on: very friendly and incredibly professional.  (Although perhaps re-folding my napkin when I was away from the table was a bit too much!)  We admitted that our plan was to share, and we were immediately bought enough cutlery to be able to share each of the six dishes we'd ordered between us. We were assured that "anything is possible at The Hinds Head" and it certainly seemed that was true.

Although there was no mention of beer on the drinks menu, when we passed the downstairs bar, D had spotted locally brewed (in my home town of Marlow) Rebellion's Smuggler, which was in very good condition.  I went for pink and fizzy Rose de'Salici Brut Col de'Salici  - a delightful fruity prosecco.

There was bread to nibble on, but it wasn't long before the starters arrived.  These were truly excellent.  The Pea and Ham Soup was the ultimate comfort food.  Very green (and served in something was was not dissimilar to to a mini-cauldron), it was full of very fresh whole peas, and delicious chunks of ham.  The flavour, texture and quality of ingredients were astounding. 

It was so good, I wasn't very keen to share it, but I'm glad I did, as I got to sample the other starter - the Tea-Smoked Salmon with Soda Bread, which was exquisite.  D described it as the best smoked salmon he'd ever tasted, and I could see why.  It had a complex, delicate flavour and almost melt-in-the-mouth consistency.  It was quite brilliant.  (We also very much liked how the wedge of lemon was ingeniously covered in a little 'jacket' to catch the pips as you squeezed it). 

With truly top-notch starters, the bar had been set very high.  When mains arrived, we were perhaps a little concerned that pie looked a little... petite.  The macaroni dish looked impressive - not at all cheesy, but beautifully gratinated with tiny pasta, so that it almost looked like rice, with a poached egg delicately balanced on top.

The fears of the pie being too small were completely unfounded, given the richness of the dish.  Lovely pastry packed with the chicken and ham - there was very little sauce, just really good quality ingredients.  The macaroni was in a different universe to the tinned macaroni cheese of my childhood (which holds a special place in my heart as comfort food).  The tiny pasta shapes, were bound with such flavoursome wild mushrooms, that they almost tasted fruity.  The dish sung with flavour, but was very rich, so again, I was glad we were sharing, as a full portion would have been difficult to eat single-handedly. 

The triple fried chips were chunky, salty and very very crunchy.

Utterly stuffed, we asked for a little break before dessert time.  We enjoyed the ambience and relaxed feel of the restaurant, and marvelled at how close it was to Maidenhead Rail station.  We commented on how the toilets were the second best D had ever seen (he said they lost a point for not having real fluffy handtowels), but we both agreed the cool 50s style made for very nice bathrooms.

In preparation for dessert, we were handed this introductory note for the 'Quaking Pudding':

I still wasn't entirely sure whether a 17th Century pudding was going to be tasty, but I knew there was always going to be the fallback option of the blackberry fool (and in normal circumstances, I was too full for dessert anyway).

The desserts then made their grand entrance.  The pudding was as promised 'quaking' and wobbling away, as if it had a life of it's own (whilst the blackberry fool looked more conventional), but had the unexpected added bonus of pistachios. 

Forgetting how full I was, I dug into the Quaking Pudding, and was almost taken aback by how familiar the taste was.  The warm flavours of cardamom, cinammon, a hint of ginger, in a milky base, meant it tasted exactly like 'chai' (indian tea, just like my mum makes).  It was quite disorientating to taste something that was so reminiscent of home in such a restaurant, but it was absolutely delicious.  Ingeniously, it was served with what looked like cucumber, but was actually delicate slivers of sweet and tangy sugared apple. 

The blackberry fool was very creamy, but well punctuated by the blackberries, pistachios, meringue pieces and a hint of aniseed - delightful.

We'd come to the end of our food extravaganza.  Expectations had been high but the food, service and atmosphere were absolutely perfect, and I couldn't recommend The Hinds Head highly enough.   

Sauterelle, Royal Exchange, City of London, Greater London EC3V 3LR

After a tough week and an afternoon working in the City, myself and A were ready for a classy Friday night dinner and a chance to catch up. I’d often walked straight past the Royal Exchange just outside Bank Station, entirely unaware that a high-end shopping centre and an extremely posh café, was housed inside. I was even less aware that it was the home of French restaurant ‘Sauterelle’ (or Grasshopper if translated), even after stepping inside the grand building. Eventually I spotted a menu and small staircase leading to the mezzanine level restaurant.

My expectations were fairly low. I’d booked a special offer set menu through a popular dining website, and given that we were being offered a bargainous three courses for £23.50, I expected either to be rushed through the meal, presented with miniscule portions or sitting in an awkwardly silent restaurant lacking diners or atmosphere.

It looked like it might be the latter situation as we arrived in time for our 7.30pm booking, to find the restaurant area quiet. The friendly and very professional staff however stowed away our bags and asked if we’d like a drink at the decidedly more busy bar before our meal. It seemed like a good plan, so we propped up the bar surrounded by a good number of Friday night drinkers, sipping our wonderfully chilled white wine (from an extensive drinks menu) entirely relaxed and unhurried as we enjoyed the ambience of the busy bar.

Before too long, our tummies rumbling, we were ready for food. The courteous staff gave us a fantastic table overlooking the Grand Café below. The glass ceilinged building was bathed in the evening sunshine, becoming more atmospheric as dusk descended upon us.

The set menu was pleasingly varied, with four options for each course covering a wide variety of dishes, all of which sounded appealing. There was no overlap in our final choices and our expectations were now far higher than when we’d arrived.

The attentive waitress presented us with a array of exciting breads. I was tempted by the walnut and raisin bread just before the beautifully presented starters arrived. My fear of small portions was entirely unfounded and our first gleeful mouthfuls, we were delighted with our choices. A had opted for Galician octopus and chorizo with potato salad, basil, watercress and capers (pictured below), whilst mine was a more traditional Braised pork, with apple, Alsace bacon and celeriac puree but presented in a stylishly innovative fashion. The succulent morsel of pork was perfectly matched with the sweetness of the apple and the saltiness of the bacon.

The size of the dish was ideal and had whet my appetite, as I took more bread – this time a dark, strongly flavoured Guiness concoction.

It wasn’t long to wait for mains though. I’d opted for a simple seasonal risotto with fresh peas, broad beans, wild garlic, English foraged mushrooms. Whilst without meat, the flavour was strong and the texture rich and creamy.

As filling as my main had been, we were both craving for a sweet finish to the sumptuous meal, but again very different options appealed. A went for a fruity Iced Orange Parfait, with pistachio, mascarpone, ginger biscuit, and a blood orange salad (pictured below), whilst chocolate is my weakness so I couldn’t resist the Madagascan chocolate, balsamic macerated Muscat grapes, and almond ice cream.

Again presented brilliantly the rich chocolate dessert was an absolute dream. Intensely dark chocolate had a nutmeg like warmth and spiciness, and was perfectly coupled with sweet of (cherry like) grapes and coolness of the almond ice cream.

It had been a dream of a meal. Each dish tasted wonderful and the service, location and atmosphere had been impeccable, the sheer good value of the set menu making it even better. A gem of a find!

The White Horse Inn, Compton Bassett, Wiltshire, SN11 8RG

There are some places which absolutely tick all my boxes.  I had a good feeling about The White Horse Inn from the very start. 

D had entrusted me with his latest copy of The Good Beer Guide, which he had painstakingly annotated using a unique rating system, marking places he thought I'd like with a little 'u' and places he thought I'd LOVE with a BIG 'U' (he is exceedingly thoughtful like that).   I'd fired off dozens of emails to various little and big 'U' places in an attempt to find a last minute countryside getaway to banish those recently-back-from-holiday-blues, and I wasn't expecting much luck.

But suddenly, in one afternoon I suddenly found my inbox filled with a number of potential places to visit.  The email from proprietors Tara and Danny Adams somehow seemed the most friendly.  The White Horse Inn was described in the beer guide as a 'real gem' (hence a big 'U'), and best of all, as I explained to D, it shared it's name with this pub (our favourite pub in the world, not least because it was where we met).   Our minds were quickly made up, and we looked forward to a weekend of adventures with Wiltshire White Horses.

Compton Bassett is a tiny village, but  we found it without any problems at all.  The sun was shining as we got our first view of the beautiful countryside, the idyllic beer garden and the lovely characterful building.  There were geese and even a couple of very cute pigs behind the pub, and a separate building for the accommodation (8 rooms in total).  We received a very very warm welcome at the bar, and Tara showed us to our light and airy room.  Newly refurbished to a very high standard, everything was perfect - lovely shower, lots of attention to detail, tea making facilities and yummy biscuits!  The sheer peace and quiet of the location felt good.

We headed off to Avebury (very close by - and we passed the first of three chalk White Horses on our way), and enjoyed watching the antics of a group of energetic lambs, scrambling back and forth across a steep hillside as if in training for a lamb marathon. 

 Lots of fresh air meant we'd built up quite an appetite as we returned in the evening for dinner.  It transpired that one of the other buildings at The White Horse, was a skittle alley, hosting a group of twenty!  The restaurant was fully booked (a good sign), but we had a great table in the smaller pub area.  One of the last free-houses in Wiltshire, there were three real ales on and a magnificent pear-cider (or more correctly, a perry), called Bee Sting.   Sweet and very pale and entirely clear, it was dangerously drinkable for a 7.5% beverage (I happily drank it all evening -  the intriguingly named Black Rat Cider is only on in the summer, being a scrumpy).    D thought the 'Tunnel Vision' was a nice malty bitter in very good condition.  He later moved onto 'Innocent' which was a pale, heavily hopped offering, and then his favourite, the 'Bath Ale Gem', which boasted some caramel flavours.

The frequently changing menu made the most of locally sourced produce.  There was a good range of dishes (all of which sounded delicious), so myself and D made the decision to share everything we ordered (fairly and equally), so as to sample as much as possible.

Starters arrived in perfect time for our hungry stomachs.  I started with the beautifully presented mushrooms on toast with garlic cream sauce. 

 The juicy mushrooms were decadently rich and perfectly paired with the rustic bread.  (We ate the flowers too - they tasted good!)  True to our word, halfway through we swapped plates, and I sampled the tasty strong-flavours of the breaded Camembert (crunchy on the outside, and fantastically gooey on the inside) with cranberry syrup,   We were delighted and hoped this was a sign of great things to come.

We were not wrong.  The main course I started on were thin sliced of juicy pan-seared duck breast, with scrumptiously salty roasted salsify, crispy saute potatoes, Jerusalem artichoke puree and some very tangy red berries.   As great as this was, this actually couldn't prepare us for the sheer divine nature of the other main meal, which D somewhat reluctantly shared with me.  It was pork belly, that had been slow-roasted for 12 hours, and sourced very locally from Bishops Cannings (a mere 10 minutes away).  It was utterly incredible.  Incredibly soft and flavoursome, served with amazingly crispy (but not-teeth-breakingly so), crackling, crunchy greens (savoy cabbage) and sage mash, a mouthful of these components combined was heaven on a fork.  I can't remember the last time I'd tasted anything that worked so well together.  Once again our plates were soon completely clean.

Somehow, we still had space for dessert, and stuck to our sharing policy (mostly).  My Chocolate Crunch dessert was paired with D's choice of Plum and Sloe Gin Sorbet.  (Both good, but I preferred mine, as it was more indulgent.

It had been an absolutely wonderful dinner - every single thing we sampled had been delicious and we hadn't left a thing.  We had been so well looked after, even though the restaurant and pub was at full capacity, that it had been a very chilled out experience (particularly as we knew our beds were in stumbling distance). 

The next morning, any normal person would have still been full.  I don't seem to be a normal person when it comes to good food (and thankfully neither is D).  Full english breakfasts are one of our most guilty-pleasures, and we thought we may as well continue to indulge.

Tara was amazing looking after us yet again, (even though she was about to help with a charity fun run before dashing back to serve what would be a fully booked lunch service!)  We weren't in a rush so we took it easy, eagerly anticipating another fine meal.

And what a meal it was!  All the ingredients were of the best quality.  A hugely chunky sausage (such a good flavour), two thick slices of bacon (D's favourite component), rustic bread toast, Stornoway black pudding (the best black pudding I'd ever had), beans (an essential binding ingredient), and a wonderfully soft-friend free-range egg (as good as the ones from my chickens, and with a yolk that was just as orange).  A blissful end to a visit full of gastronomic delights and exceptionally wonderful hospitality.   I'd strongly recommend a visit and hope I can return!

The White Horse Inn
Compton Bassett,
Nr Calne,
Wiltshire
SN11 8RGTel: 01249 813118
thewhitehorseinn@comptonbassett.com

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.

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).

Cornucopia Bistro, 6 High Street, Windsor

As previously mentioned on these pages, Windsor is full of restaurants of the chain variety, and of the touristy-and-therefore-dubious-quality variety. Yes, there is an excellent seafood restaurant and there's the reliable but far too often-visited Bel and the Dragon, but I was keen to find somewhere new. A chance recommendation from a stranger on a train led to the discovery of Cornucopia Bistro - a fairly new addition to (the far end of - and therefore slightly less touristy part of) Windsor High Street.

Initial impressions were good. However things weren't looking so good when our group of seven was led to a cramped table next to a blazing hot radiator. I suggested we ask if we could sit elsewhere, and we were swiftly relocated to a far roomier table at the back of the restaurant, (as Leandri succinctly put it: 'have you got a bigger table? We've all had to sit really close to each other all day...)'

Space issues sorted, it was time to order wine and peruse the menu. The menu was pleasingly only confined to one page, but it took an age to decide between the 6 equally sumptuous sounding starters. Between us, we ordered them all.

The goats cheese with pear, red onion and rosemary looked quite beautiful.

When the smoked salmon with courgette and lemon blinis arrived, I definitely began to doubt whether my choice of mushrooms had been the right one.

But it transpired that there was nothing to fear! My starter of wild mushrooms in garlic and brandy cream (served on toast), was a heavenly concoction. Juicy mushrooms, intense garlic and a silky cream sauce. It could not have been any better.

Each starter was a good size, full of flavour and cooked perfectly (the other starters were a parma ham, fig and rocket salad, and a crab, avocado and spring onion salad). The mains therefore had a tough act to follow. Mostly steak / meat based (the vegetarian special of the day which no one had opted for, was stuffed aubergine with rattatioue, there was also the 'Cornucopia Chilli,' which won the accolade of being as good as Sharon's home made variety (and innovatively included chorizo).

My lamb shank (pictured) was slow roasted in a red currant and red wine sauce. The meat came off the bone beautifully and the flavours were rich and deep.

Soon it was time for dessert, and once again it was almost impossible to decide between the equally amazing sounding options (the fruit salad was no longer available, but that was no great loss!)

The concept of 'Eton Mess' intrigued our Dutch colleagues, but they were impressed when it arrived in a tall glass. The bread and butter pudding looked mouth watering - once again I wondered whether I'd made the right decision, but yet again, I was not disappointed by my white chocolate and lemon pannacotta. It was creamy but quite light - it tasted a little like a zesty lemon cheesecake, softened by the hint of white chocolate. Quite delightful!

Overall

Atmosphere: A fair number of other diners for a tuesday evening, but luckily giving us a larger table at the back allowed us to be a noisy group without (hopefully) too much disturbance to everyone else.

Service: Endlessly friendly despite our noisy group.

Food quality: Very good with truly excellent starters and desserts.

Overall: Delicious food - would certainly recommend to anyone visiting Windsor. 8/10