Reflections on Communal Eating and Living

This weekend we hand the keys to our flat back to the landlord. This marks the end of my time as a student, and the end of my time living in flats where you get to argue about who left the bathroom in such a mess and who didn't pay their share of the gas bill.

One of the most stressful things I've found with communal living is the upkeep of the kitchen. I never thought I would find this as difficult as I have. Neither of my parents are massively in to cooking, and neither of them are particularly houseproud. I grew up in a house where tidying and cleaning were usually done in a massive hygiene binge the day before visitors were due. We were never candidates for "How Clean is Your House", but at the same time the mantelpiece could have used dusting.

However, the kitchen was always pretty clean. Surfaces were wiped down after dinner, and the washing up done and put away. The fridge was regularly checked for anything that had gone bad, and the bins taken out. My only memory of dirt in the kitchen was the floor, as the kitchen door led out to the back garden, so it would often have muddy footprints or bits of stray grass cuttings here and there. Given that I was quite happy with this approach to cleanliness (surfaces and equipment clean, floor less important), I thought I'd be ok in shared flats.

I was wrong. Over the past 4 years, I lived with people who thought the best place to make their toast was directly on the counter, and then left a pile of crumbs with a smear of butter and jam as a reminder. Or the person who insisted on lining every baking tray with tin foil to minimise washing up, but then tearing the foil and deciding they couldn't be bothered to clear up the layer of grease that stuck the foil to the pan. Even more extreme, there was one person who refused to even use baking trays, reheating their ready meals solely in a tin foil cradle. Which burst all over the floor on several occasions, once infuriating the aforementioned flatmate so much they headbutted the fridge. There are people who use 12 saucepans to make spaghetti bolognese, and those that use wire wool on the non-stick pans. People who leave all their washing up in the sink, and then act surprised that you didn't do it for them. Or wash up under running water, so that when you pull the frying pan out of the cupboard the next day, you notice that while the inside is clean, the outside has half a fried egg stuck to it.

Sometimes the spice rack looks likes this.

Note the broken glass and intended recycling

It's also common for the worktop to look like this.

So close to the sink, yet so far from clean.

I'm looking forward to living somewhere you only have to clean after dinner, not before as well.

I'm also pretty sad to move out. Although some of my past flatmates have been hilariously incompetent in the kitchen, having 3 or 4 other people under the same roof makes for great communal meals. This year alone we've had Thanksgiving, Christmas dinner, Anti-Valentines, a mexican night, a tapas night and a chilli cook off. We had a chocolate fondue party, and baked a 2 foot long custard cream. We celebrated Burn's Night with the biggest haggis you've ever seen. There's always willing mouths to tuck in to the latest thing I've baked, usually just because I felt like it.

I've lost count the number of times I've bought too much dinner and managed to offload the leftovers on to one of my flatmates. This year particularly, I've had several texts and calls offering me a communal dinner. There's something great about coming home to a roast dinner and a table populated by some of your best friends, when an hour ago your dinner plans involved a can of baked beans and a serious iPlayer session.

While I won't miss communal cleaning (I've spent the last two days trying to scrape a year's worth of grease out the oven) I will definitely miss the communal eating.

Eating at The Fringe Festival

For the last 20 days, Edinburgh has been busy with the various festivals that are held here during August. There's books, opera, dance, theatre, and a nightly RAF flyover at 9pm on the dot. The biggest of all the festivals is the Fringe, which tends to be mostly comedy with the odd hint of amateur theatricals.

Much of the Fringe takes place in the University Unions. It's very strange to see the bar where you'd go for a cheap drink after lectures packed full of "real" people. Weirder still is that Pleasance Sports Hall is a major venue. Normally, queuing outside Pleasance equals an exam. Queuing with a beer in hand to see stand up messes with my mind.

Most Fringe tickets are unreserved, so you have to stake your place in the queue 30 minutes or so before the show starts if you want a choice of seats - otherwise you can find yourself split up if you are in a big group, or sitting in centre front row for a comedian who likes to pick on the audience. This isn't really a major problem, but for those seeing several shows on the same day, it can mean that once you have traveled between venues, you have little or no time to eat. (Ok, I realise that this is probably only a problem for me, but it is a serious one! You try sitting through an hour of hip-hop theatre when you desperately need some food!)

Assembly Rooms on George Street has a pretty standard cafe on the premises, and the Pleasance complex has a small barbecue van that does ok burgers and sausages, and a small cafe. Pleasance Dome also has the guys from the Mosque Kitchen serving decent curries for bargain prices.

However, the most interesting eating at the Fringe is to be had in Bristo Square, in the courtyard of the Guilded Balloon (otherwise known as Teviot to the locals). With all the American blogs and food sites going mental over gourmet food trucks, it's good to see a few food vans that aren't just burger and chips here in the UK. They're great to grab a snack at in-between shows, and everything is portable should you need to queue and nosh simultaneously.

La Creperie - Not that exciting, but sometimes you *need* a pancake with Nutella.


Wee Hut - Serves several types of wurst, I am going to try the smoked wurst next.


La Favorita Pizza Oven - Features a real wood fired pizza oven (you can see the black chimney at the the top of the photo). Generally very tasty and stays open late. (Although they had a sign today proclaiming themselves "Athur (sic) Smith's Favourite Pizza")


Well Hung and Tender - Comedy name, but seriously good burgers. T was put off by the open air relish station, but I enjoyed using coffee stirrers to sample all the condiments before deciding that the mustard mayo should grace my burger.

Fish Mussels - Not quite in Bristo Square, but around the corner at Hullaballoo. Doesn't serve fish, but does serve mussels in a classic white wine and garlic type sauce.

It also serves these bad boys...


I wasn't sure whether I liked oysters or not. I can't remember ever eating a raw one, and when I can remember eating one, they've always been deep-fried. The oysters are freshly shucked as you order them, and garnished with a squeeze of lemon and a drop or two of Tabasco. However, since plucking up the courage to try one the other day, I've been back for more. Very delicious and a really unusual streetfood option!

The Dogs (revisited) and Philosophy

When I first started studying photography ten years ago, digital cameras were insanely expensive and only used by top professionals and early-adopting amateurs. Although film was fairly cheap, it still cost £4 or so to buy and develop a roll of pictures. This had the advantage of making people think twice about clicking the shutter.

Now, everyone has a digital. Even a basic mobile phone will have a camera with a decent number of megapixels on it. Although this has allowed people to capture moments they wouldn't have been able to afford to catch on film (such as action shots where 30 pictures are blurred but 1 is amazing), it also makes people quite unthinking with their cameras. I once went on holiday with a friend who obsessively documented the whole trip. While she got some nice snaps of the Sagrada Familia, I was less happy about being constantly photographed in the airport, on buses, eating my dinner and while trying to apply suntan lotion. Sometimes it's better to just put the lens down and experience what is happening first hand.

I've been following the recent chat on the WoM blog about modern etiquette, and I still think that taking pictures of your dinner in restaurants is generally bad form. The only blog I have ever deleted from my RSS reader was 90% pictures of restaurant meals, and as well as making me feel that the blogger would be the most irritating person to go for dinner with, it was just boring. Why do I care what a salad in a restaurant 2000 miles away looks like? I want to know what made the meal special, and in the case of far-flung restaurants, if there are unusual flavours or methods I can recreate at home. I can forgive photography on very striking looking dishes, but most of the time I am not a fan. Looking back over my past reviews, most of the ones with photos were taken either when I was on my own, or hastily snatched while dining companions visited the bathrooms.

So it is for these reasons that this article contains only one photograph, and one that was not taken by me.

Dining Room at The Dogs (from their website)

After raving about The Dogs all year, I finally dragged my flatmates along there for dinner. Things got off to a bad start, with us arriving late for our reservation and two people short. Just as we were about to give up and order for him, E arrived from his waiting job just around the corner. The waitress was very nice about the delay we caused, and gave E plenty of time to peruse the menu, while the rest of us worked our way through a bottle of house red and some very tasty warm bread.

For starters, E had the mushroom and vegetable pate, which was had a large dose of woody, mushroom flavour in it. The pate was deliciously rich and thick, although the portion of pate outweighed the slice of toast that accompanied it, forcing E to leave half his portion as he had nothing to spread it on! A had a whitebait salad, which was a small mound of leaves covered in a giant portion of tiny spicy fish. Again, the main complaint that it was a little too large as a starter, nonetheless A was very pleased to receive such a good amount of fish instead of the stingy toppings you sometimes get with salads. I ventured in to offal territory, and had lamb sweetbreads on toast. I've never tried them before, so have little to compare them to. They had the texture of the melting fat you get with pork crackling, but without the greasiness. My portion was well sized, but the drizzle of sherry sauce meant that some parts of the dish were a little bit dry and bland.

At this point, we also got a portion of chips cooked in dripping to share. While the chips on my last visit had been good, this portion was transcendental. The thick cut chips were perfectly crunchy on the outside, almost shattering when cut. Inside was creamy and smooth. They were possibly some of the most delicious chips I have ever eaten.

Given E's current experience working in the restaurant industry, we also spent a lot of the meal discussing the ethos of The Dogs. On some levels, the informality is almost off-putting. The cutlery arrives in your water glass, and a jug of tap water is given to every table as soon as they sit down. Instead of the restaurant staple of cracked pepper, each table sports a salt and pepper shaker, in the same glass cone style beloved of the greasy spoon. Yet the food is far more adventurous than restaurants of a similar price range, and often far better cooked. My humanities degree lead me to suggest that The Dogs is in some way a deconstruction of what makes a good restaurant, with some accepted conventions deliberately ignored and challenged. This is perhaps taking it all far too seriously.

Moving on to the main course, L (who had skipped the starter) opted for the tomato barley risotto. The plate was filled with fat grains of barley, and large chunks of tomato. The barley added a layer of nuttiness to the tomato sauce, and was very tasty indeed. It was also very filling, and anyone without an enormous appetite is probably best sticking to the small portion.

A ordered the vegetable and pulse bake, which came with a goat's cheese mash topping. This was also declared delicious, although rather stodgy and heavy. Again, not an option for the light appetite.

E ordered the tomato seafood stew, which came with a large hunk of soda bread. I found this rather sour tasting, and E complained that the mussels had overwhelmed the other ingredients. This potentially could be a great dish, but it just didn't seem to come together the way it should on this occasion.

I had a the grilled trout with green salad broth. I did not have any food envy at all! The trout skin was crispy, while the flesh underneath was tender and flaky. The green salad broth was heavy with the scent of mussels, and tasted like a salad that had seafood dressing. It was quite a strange sensation to eat! There were also a couple of fat mussels hiding in the broth, which also featured chunky celery, cucumber and potatoes. Unfortunately one of my mussels was a bit gritty, but apart from that it was a stand out dish.

We finished up with a bowl of ice cream, raspberry rice pudding and lemon thyme posset. I am officially in love with posset, and I couldn't fault the creamy texture with the zing of lemon. The dish was topped with crystallised strands of lemon zest, which gave a crunchy contrast to the posset, which was studded with chopped thyme. E's rice pudding was also a hit, with A proclaiming that the taste took him back to childhood in the same way that Anton Ego's ratatouille did in the eponymous film.

Overall, I would describe a visit to The Dogs as similar to visiting an eccentric aunt and uncle, who happen to be channelling Nigella Lawson and Nigel Slater to various degrees. The food will be delicious, with the occasional major triumph and minor slip, and the atmosphere quirky but friendly. It is a very strong contender for my all time favourite restaurant, and I dare you to find a better chip!

Graze - Plus a Free Box!

I heard about Graze from Jess, and signed up to look round the site. As usual, I got distracted and totally forgot about it. The other week, I got a reminder email from Graze, pointing out that although I'd signed up, I'd never actually ordered anything. To tempt me back, they also included a code for a free box.

Graze is basically a healthy snack box, with a large portion of fresh fruit, and two smaller portions of dried fruit, nuts or olives. You can select a nutritional "theme" for your box, such as immunity boosting (I picked this one as I still feel a bit run down and sickly after having pneumonia a few months ago), pre or post-workout*, and energy boosting.

Graze Box

My first box was meant to turn up last week, but I think it got lost in the post (or the postman stole it. A suspiciously large amount of our mail never turns up...) so this was my debut box. When I noted on the Graze website that my box hadn't arrived, I was immediately given the next box for free to make up for it. I was so excited when the postman rang the bell this morning! The box contained: a large punnet of crunchy apples (I can confirm they were indeed crunchy), a punnet of "fire nuts" (chilli almonds, cashews and wasabi peas) and a small punnet of raisins. I wasn't keen on the chilli almonds, but the cashews were amazing! Wasabi peas were a little too hot, but I still happily munched my way through the box. The raisins were also good, being some of the fattest and juiciest I have had in a while.

Fire Nut Selection - chilli cashews, almonds and wasabi peas

Although a Graze box isn't cheap (£2.99 a go) it is very convenient. I don't tend to buy things like dried fruit as I don't eat it often enough, and it just sits in the cupboard. Having a nutritionally controlled portion (1 of the 5-a-day) was good, as normally I would eat about 2 raisins and then wonder if it counted!

Graze are promoting themselves quite heavily at the moment, and seem to be very generous with the free boxes. If you'd like to try them yourself, this code gets you a free box, and £1 will be donated to the Rainforest Alliance.

Enter 5CCT231G at GRAZE.COM

*I have also recently returned to the gym after knackering my old running shoes, messing up my feet and having to get a new pair that was gait analysed! I like that I could get an immunity box one week and then a workout box the next. I am so healthy it hurts.

Lemon Thyme Shortbread - A Bake Swap

A while ago, I sent a complete stranger a mix CD of my favourite music. The stranger sent me a CD back. I liked some of the music, and thought some of it was weird. I loved getting a random CD in the post though. Welcome to the world of internet swaps!

I hadn't done a swap in ages, when I stumbled across a bake swap. I like baking and I like random stuff. I signed up straight away.

Once I'd sent the email, I began to dread the swap. What if I got someone who is vegan? Or gluten free? Or some other weird allergy/dietary requirement that I can't bothered to work around. (Part of me thinks that if you are seriously limited about what you can eat, you should stick to the mix CDs instead.)

When I received my swap partner's details I was shocked. I googled the details in the email. Woah.

Luckily, she was not on some crazy diet, but living in a flat 5 minutes away from the house I spent the first 18 years of my life in. The randomness just got even better!

She said that she liked citrus flavours, and I've been thinking a lot lately about using herbs in sweet foods. I made an awesome orange and rosemary cake once, so I wanted to do something along those lines. I eventually settled on lemon shortbread with thyme.

This recipe was a bit experimental, and was inspired by several other recipes, with this one by Sophistimom being really helpful. I've changed a few of the quantities, and presented them differently. The biscuits are very crisp and crumbly, with an immediate lemon zing, followed by an aftertaste of refreshing herbs. I would prefer a bit more of an "upfront" herb flavour, but I didn't want to go too overboard on the thyme on this occasion.

Box of Lemon Shortbread with Thyme Glaze

Lemon Shortbread with Thyme

225g unsalted butter, softened
150g granulated sugar
zest of 1.5 lemons (save the other half a lemon for the glaze)
1 tsp salt
2 tsps finely chopped thyme
1 egg
275g plain flour
2 tbsps lemon juice

GLAZE
Turbinado sugar (can use demerara)
4 tbsps icing sugar
juice of 1 lemon
zest 0.5 lemons
1 tsp finely chopped thyme

• Cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
• Add in the lemon zest, salt and thyme, combine thoroughly.
• Separate the egg, saving the white for glazing. Add the yolk into the biscuit dough mix.
• Add the flour and lemon juice. Once a dough starts forming, knead gently on a floured surface. If the dough is sticky at this point, add more flour, a sprinkle at a time.
• Wrap the dough in clingfilm, and chill for at least an hour.
• Preheat the oven to 180C, and line a baking sheet with greaseproof paper.
• Roll the dough out to 5mm thick, and cut circles out (I used a 2 inch diameter cutter). Keep gathering the scraps and re-rolling until you have about 40 biscuits.
• Brush half the biscuits with egg white, and then sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Other half of the batch stay plain for the moment!
  
• Bake for 15-18 minutes, until the biscuits are just turning golden brown at the edges.
• Cool on the tray for 1 minute, then move to a wire rack to finish cooling.
• Once cool, mix the icing sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest and thyme to make a glaze.
• Put half a teaspoon of glaze on each of the plain biscuits, spreading it out with the back of the spoon.
• Once the glaze is dry, serve with tea.

Lemon Thyme Shortbreads

I am excited to see what I get back in return!

Food Adventures in Florence: Part III

Fruit and Vegetable Stall in the Central Market

One day we checked out the Central Market in Florence, and bought some goodies for a picnic later in the day. We got bread, ham, cheese, olives and strawberries, and stole some butter from the hotel breakfast buffet to make sandwiches. We tried to eat our picnic in the Boboli Gardens, but they wouldn't let us in with food. This meant we went on a 8 mile hike around southern Florence looking for a good picnic spot. We eventually found a rose garden on the way up to San Miniato al Monte, only to find later that the back gate to the Boboli wasn't guarded with x-ray scanners and security staff, but a rather bored man in a hut who barely checked our tickets. So, if you want to picnic with the Medicis, the Belvedere entrance is the answer.

Tripe and other unidentified body parts

The market was excellent, a real paradise for foodies! I wish there was somewhere like that near here. Practically every meat stall had tripe for sale, which is apparently a Florentine speciality. There was also a pork stall selling ears, tongues, heads, tails and trotters, and another stall selling horse meat. I think if you are going to eat meat you shouldn't be precious about what you eat. There is no difference between killing a cow or pig and eating it than eating a cat, or horse, or dog. Plus if you are going to go to all that trouble, you might as well get your money's worth and eat the offal. Yum. (Although it was far too early in the morning for me to be brave enough to try a tripe burger.)

Miniature tartlette in Dolcissima

While wandering around the Oltrarno artisan district, we found a old fashioned bakery called Dolcissima. We'd just eaten, so weren't in the mood for anything too big. Instead I got a miniature tart of custard and baby raspberries. It was small but perfectly formed, and made me wish I lived nearby so I could buy boxes of these for parties.

Pizza with Capers and Anchovies

We couldn't go to Italy without trying some pizza, so we headed to Gusta pizza. The poor €:£ rate meant we were keen for a cheap meal, and we'd seen the wood buning oven in Gusta pizza while wandering around earlier in the day, as well as a good write up in the guide book. The place was basic, with orders being taken at the till and dispensed by order number. Eat in pizzas were served on a cardboard platter with plastic cutlery. Seating was on bar stools around empty wine casks, and drinks were self-served from a fridge. However, the pizza had a crispy base, with rich doughy crusts, and the toppings were simple but generous. Probably one of the cheapest meals we had, but also one of the tastiest too.

Random Graffitti

This graffiti was everywhere. I have no idea what the significance is.

Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants.

While frantically trying to find a book on Middle Eastern trade regulations in the uni library for an essay a couple of months back, I spied Michael Pollan's "In Defense of Food" on a nearby shelf. I was way too busy to read it then, but I made a mental note to come back to it once exams and essays were over.

As I checked the book out last week, a note flashed up on screen saying that my library card expired soon. So soon, that instead of having the book for a month, I could only have it for 6 days. Is it a little ironic that the first time I ever find a book in the library that I actually want to read, my library card decides to die?

Anyway, I became determined that I would read all 200-odd pages in those 6 days. I know it took me the best part of a year to read "The God Delusion", but I was feeling optimistic. In the end, it only took me about 3 days to read the book. It's the stuff of undergraduate dreams: interesting, informative and well written. (The version I was reading also had a really sexy typeface. Oh yeh!)

Pollan sums up his argument as "Eat food, not too much, mostly plants". He questions the idea that we can be more healthy just by eating more nutrients, saying that fortified cereals and omega 3 diet bars are actually worse for us than just eating simple ingredients containing naturally occurring vitamins and minerals. We also eat too much because we stop when our plate is clean, not when we feel full, and lack a traditional food culture. Lastly, although animal products contain unique nutrients, like B12, we can obtain most of our dietary requirements more efficiently, cheaply and greenly in the form of vegetation.

For a long time, I have being trying to eat more healthily. I have chosen cereal bars over a piece of chocolate, and tried to resist the overwhelming desire to bake stuff. However, in the last year of so, my views have changed. Instead, I have shunned processed goods. I can't remember the last time I ate in McDonalds or Burger King, and don't think I have eaten a ready meal since first year. T recently made me a spaghetti bolognese using a ready made sauce, and it was so bland I wondered what the point was. Why spend £1.50 on Ragu/Dolmio/etc when you could buy a tin of tomatoes and some dried herbs for under a quid? Although I won't touch a ready meal, I'll happily have a big slice of homemade cake and some pork crackling. If the French can eat fatty, delicious food, why can't I?

Reading Pollan's work further convinced me. I had never questioned the idea of nutrition, and had taken vitamin supplements in the past. The idea that processed products are less nutritional makes sense, and going round a supermarket since, I was shocked at how little on the shelves was "food" in the purest form. While I cook most of my meals from scratch anyway, I have since started checking packets to see how processed things like mayonnaise and bread are. After all, the human race has survived for years without vitamin supplements, omega 3 milk and iron enriched water.

Sometimes I wish I could just stand in the supermarket and be evangelical. Tell people picking up ready meals that they are damaging their health, their wallet and the planet by buying it. Bin all the sugary chemical sweets in favour of some really good chocolates and toffees. I would love to turn back the clock and have an independent grocer, fishmonger, butcher and general store nearby. I think the food culture in Britain is burgeoning, but maybe I have a biased view as I actively seek information about food quality and origin?

Pollan's book is not without flaws. Many of his sources are quoted repeatedly, suggesting that some of his ideas don't yet have the diverse range of proof they need. He recommends a traditional diet, but doesn't specify what this means. Do you have to pick the traditional diet of one region and stick to it? Or can I have a roast dinner one night, then a curry, then a stir fry? Although there were a few passages that didn't entirely convince, on the whole I found that Pollan's theories fitted well with common sense. We should enjoy food as a pleasure, not as a fuel to be consumed quickly, alone with the television.

If I had the space, I would plant my own vegetable patch after reading this book. As I don't, I think I'll probably sign up for a vegetable box instead. I'm sick of going to the supermarket and seeing Thai asparagus for sale, when the grocers two doors down has British stuff in fresh.

Most of all, I'd recommend this book to everyone who is suffering at the hands of the Western diet. Anyone who is obese, diabetic, with high cholesterol and blood pressure, or on the brink of heart disease or stroke. I'd also recommend it to those of you who buy the diet range of ready meals, or who eat a special K bar for lunch in the hope that it will help you stay thin. It won't. Enjoy a nice ham and cheese salad and be happy instead.

Khushi's Diner

Many years ago, when I first moved to Edinburgh, T and I went to see March of the Penguins (it was my birthday and I demanded the cuteness). On the way back we stopped at Khushi's by uni for a curry. We had a nice evening and made a note to go back again some day. A few weeks later while on my way to class, I noticed it was boarded up.

Later that term, we went out on Victoria Street and saw that Khushi's had relocated. T was very excited as he loves a good curry. We hurried along to try out the new Khushi's. The back of the menu explained the history, with each incarnation of the restaurant (Victoria Street was the 5th location) the business had adapted and grown.

The interior of the Victoria Street restaurant was almost palatial, with huge chandeliers and glass staircases. It was far more upmarket than your average Indian restaurant, with no flocked wallpaper or dodgy sitar music. Although it was a bit pricier than your average Indian, it was smart enough to impress visitors without totally breaking the bank. Virtually every relative, friend and randomer that turned up to visit us got dragged along to Khushi's.

Last Christmas, I saw on the news that there had been a massive fire in central Edinburgh. I'm always curious to see if it is somewhere I know, but usually it's a warehouse in some random suburb. This time, it was Khushi's.

When T and I returned to Edinburgh after Christmas, we walked past the shell of what remained of Khushi's. It was completely burnt out and didn't look like opening any time soon.

We'd heard rumours that Khushi's were planning to move on and open in a new premises, and while scouting for lunch near uni one day, I saw that Belgian themed Centraal had become Khushi's Diner.

Unlike Victoria Street, the Diner is more cramped, and without luxurious chandeliers and plush banquettes. It's based around the principle "jaldi jaldi" (or "quickly quickly") with cheap and cheerful decor in a clash of bright colours. While Victoria Street sometimes seemed styled by a subcontinental Bond villain, the Diner is more along the quirky Indian style portrayed by the Darjeeling Limited poster in our hallway. The menu is slightly smaller than before, but all our favourites were there. The smaller space also meant we had to wait around 10 minutes for a table, but we were directed to a neighbouring pub to pass the time. The waiter came and found us in the pub when our table was ready!

We started with complimentary poppadoms, and we ordered a selection of chutneys to go with them. The poppadoms were dryly crisp, and the mango chutney nicely chunky. The spicy onions were potent, but tasty in small doses. It's still BYOB, and the beers we had brought with us had been kept refrigerated while we waited for our table.

Tandoori Fish with Raita

T browsed the menu, but it was pointless as he ordered his favourite dish anyway; tandoori mushrooms. When it arrived a few minutes later, he tucked in eagerly, proclaiming it was as good as he'd remembered and that he'd missed it! I went for tandoori fish which had a lovely charcoal crispy crust, and juicy flesh inside. The only downside was that the fish was a little mushy (rather than flaky) in places. It came with a cooling raita and some moreish shredded cabbage.

Next up we shared some plain rice and a garlic naan to accompany our main courses. The naan had a crisp "crust" with a doughy inside, with just a hint of garlic. T had a lamb jalfrezi, while I went for Methi Palak Gosht. Everything came in little bowls, so it made sharing easy, although I found that my second helping was a bit cold by the time I got round to scooping it on to my plate. The lamb was so tender you could cut it with a spoon, and the sauce had enough spinach in it to pretend that it was healthy, but the spices were a bit lost at times.

Methi Palak Gosht, Garlic Naan and Boiled Rice

I have never been much in to Indian desserts, but decided to give them another try. I ordered Gajar Ka Halwa, a carrot pudding with cream, cherries and nuts. The carrot element was promising, but I was put off by the lumps of cooked cream spread throughout the dish. The cherries and almonds went well, although they were quite sparse. I preferred the baklava style pastry T got with his coffee, but next time we go I will try buttermilk dumplings instead.

Gajar Ka Halwa

They also do a lunch menu, with Indian style sandwiches made with puri. It's a shame I've finished uni now, otherwise this would be a regular lunch time stop off, especially when it's to rainy and cold for the Mosque Kitchen.

London Food Adventures Part I

I came back from London on Thursday, and should have posted this ages ago, but I am lazy and easily distracted by shiny things.

I had a day out with Jess, and we went on a bit of a culinary odyssey.

The Spice Shop

First stop was the Spice Shop in Portobello. They had fresh Kafir lime leaves, which I've never seen before, and every spice blend imaginable. The pure spices came in cute little yellow tins, while the blends seemed to come in bags. I bought some sumac, and noticed that they had beet powder on special offer. I asked if they had any raspberry powder too, and the woman behind the counter seemed shocked.

"What do you want that for!?"
"It's a flavouring and colouring, I wanted to make raspberry meringue"
"I've never heard of it. Could you not just make it at home with a coffee grinder?"

Well, yes, but as mentioned before I am lazy.

I was upset that Books for Cooks across the road was shut, but that was poor planning on my part, as I had totally failed to see the big sign on their website that says they are closed on Mondays.

Black Bottom Cupcake

While meandering back to Notting Hill Gate, we passed the Hummingbird Bakery. We weren't planning on going there, but it was a happy accident. The cupcakes looked very pretty, but I am still suspicious of them. I was impressed that they also had a couple of loaf cakes without icing, as this suggested they actually made good cakes rather than rubbish cakes with shedloads of frosting on. I was tempted by the ginger cupcakes, but went for black bottom instead. I saw this the other week online, but had never heard of it in the UK. It's basically chocolate cake with a dollop of cheesecake thrown in. When it came to the tasting, I was impressed. The chocolate cake was moist, with a light texture, and the dense cheesecake made a nice contrast. These are going on my "bake at home" list.

Jess went for red velvet. While we were queuing up, some other people in the shop were going on about how red velvet is their favourite flavour.

Me: "It's not a flavour! It's just chocolate with red in it!"
Man Behind Counter: "Yes, it is our best seller"
M: "Why is it red?"
MBC: "So it looks nice"
M: "But why?"
MBC: "Just because it looks fun with the white icing"
M: "I don't get it. Why put colouring it when you don't need to?"
MBC: "So it looks pretty, and it's traditional"
M: "I guess I'm just a total killjoy..."
MBC: *silence*

Jess enjoyed the cake, which was very red and pretty looking, although I think she was also a bit baffled as to why it is coloured red. Or maybe I just lectured her into submission. Moving on...

We then went on to Bond Street, where we checked out Laduree and Fortnum and Mason, although Jess has the pictures from then so that will have to be part II of this post.

After all the food porn, we were tired and *hungry*, so we wandered into Soho to check out Fernandez and Wells. Jess had an empanada, which was one of my favourite snacks when I went to South America many years ago. I especially liked the mini deep fried ones, which you usually found at truck stops in the middle of nowhere. This one was baked, but still tasty.

Empanada with chili sauce

South American cuisine is not well represented in the UK, and I still dream of the ceviche I had in Peru and Chile. I had a pastel de nata, which is Portuguese, although I'm sure I had stuff like this in Brazil, so I guess it was imported along with the language.

Pastel De Nata

It was one of those dishes that tastes much better than it looked. I loved the custardy filling, and the pastry was crisp and flaky, which was surprising as for some reason I was expected more of a shortcrust style case. I had a cappuccino, although in hindsight I should have gone for a cafe cortado.

Being back in London made me realise how much I missed the buzz of the big city, and also how poor the Edinburgh food scene can be at times. I guess it is better here than a lot of places, but you don't get the variety and choice that you get in London. Having grown up there, I am used to the noise, crowds and know the tube almost off by heart. While I like the villagey feel of Edinburgh, I sometimes feel like it has all the downsides of city living, but with few of the perks.

Real Food Festival

I am in London this weekend, partly to catch up with friends, but partly because I fancied a trip to the Real Food Festival at Earl's Court.

I booked tickets for the Sunday, and planned to go with my mum. However, she had to work on Sunday, so we decided to sneak in to the trade show on Friday. We had a deli-based cover story, but part of me thinks being a blogger now counts as "trade", especially when you see how many blogs get sent free samples as a promotion tactic. Anyway, enough of my views on whether exploitation of new media as free promotion is ethical or not.

A very extensive tea stall

It was an enjoyable day, and I learnt some interesting stuff about tea, and saw mozzarella being made. I also saw Willie Hardcourt-Cooze being filmed manning his chocolate stall, which was quite exciting. Sadly we missed Fergus Henderson doing a cookery demonstration, but we were too cheap to buy a programme and didn't realise he was on.

Mozzarella curds

Given my "expert" knowledge in food lies mostly within baking, I was particularly interested in the bakeries at the show. There were a couple of bread stalls that looked good, and some great Italian biscuits. The cake stall were generally disappointing, with cupcakes being a major theme. I like making these at home, but I think commercial cupcakes usually suffer from style over substance. On top of that, I even saw one stall that had such poorly iced examples on display that I would have rejected them if I had made them myself.

The real star find was PT's biscuits. Not only were his biscuits delicious, but they used proper ingredients like butter (rather than margarine or oil). The flavours were not particularly revolutionary, but it was great to look at the label and see the same list of ingredients as I'd use at home. No additives, preservatives, weird chemicals - home baked biscuits without the hassle! I also chatted with him for a while and he gave me loads of free samples. I truly believe good baker is a generous one! I hope Paul succeeds.

Cyrus Todiwala

Despite having a great day pretending to run a deli, I still had tickets for Sunday. So I went again with my friend C! We watched Cyrus Todiwala make an Indian meal, before wandering around the stalls. I had a nice hazelnut ice cream, and a pear and cardamom cupcake from one of the more professional looking stalls. The pear filling added moistness, but the icing had dried out a little. The cardamom flavour was also too weak, and the cake mainly tasted of sugar. C had an espresso cupcake that was a bit more successful.

Pear and Cardamom cupcake

Espresso cupcake

We also managed to get a spot at the Bordeaux Quay cookery school stand. We made a fennel and courgette salad, and a cheese omelette. Our omelette was a bit runny, but the salad, which also featured garlic, pine nuts, sultanas, coriander, mint and lemon was delicious. Raw fennel and courgette didn't excite me at all, but the end result was very tasty.

C showing off her chopping skills

The finished salad

My other top find was a Welsh chocolate maker called Hipo Hyfryd. They are nominally vegan, but really in the case of chocolate this just means plain chocolate rather than milk. I got a box of the salt and pepper flavour, which was really unusual and much more interesting than some of the other chocolates on offer on other stalls. I think it might be trumped by lime chocolate in terms of weirdness, but lime chocolate didn't work while salt and pepper most definitely did. Again, they seemed like nice guys and I hope they do well!

I had a really good day on both my visits, but I felt that the show would have benefitted from something a bit more "showy". Most of the festival was a glorified farmer's market, with some of the stands being quite big names, rather than smaller "real food" producers. Although it was great to meet the people who made the food, some stalls had employed temps, notably Rococco chocolate, were most of the girls behind the counter were unable to even speak English, let alone tell you about the chocolate you were tasting. I really enjoyed the cookery school, and the demonstration kitchen, so I think the focus should shift from being about market style stalls to more interactive/instructive elements.

I am such a nerd.

10 dinners

This article on BBC News reveals that the average Briton knows ten recipes off by heart. I found this quite surprising, as I didn't think I knew ten recipes!

Here are the top ten:

Spaghetti bolognese

Roast dinner

Chilli con carne

Lasagne

Cottage or shepherd's pie

Meat or fish stir fry

Beef casserole

Macaroni cheese

Toad in the hole

Meat, fish or vegetable curry

Part of me thinks this isn't exactly 10 recipes, as chilli, bolognese and cottage pie are essentially the same recipe (and lasagne to some extent) but with varying carbohydrate accompaniments, although I guess there are components that need different knowledge areas, such as making mashed potato topping or bechemel sauce.

For me, most of the recipes I know come from growing up. As a child and teenager, I wouldn't mind eating the same things over again. My brother and sister were also quite fussy eaters, so there was a limited repertoire of dishes in our household. Shepherd's pie was probably the first dinner I learnt to cook, followed by bolognese and curry. I have only learnt casseroles, stir fry and roasts in the past few years at uni, as I've extended my repertoire to consist of what I want to eat, rather than what my brother and sister can handle.

Out of the top ten, I can't make macaroni cheese or toad in the hole without a recipe. The macaroni is because despite years of trying, I still don't really like cheese. I don't really eat toad in the hole often enough to have memorised the recipe, although I do cook it very occasionally.

My top ten would replace the macaroni cheese with a sponge cake. I have been making a basic sponge since I was 9 years old. For some reason, I became fascinated with victoria sponge, and would make it almost weekly. Although I know the recipe off by heart, I'm not sure I could make it now as I only know it in imperial measurements! 4oz of butter, 4oz of sugar, 2 eggs, 4oz of flour, some salt, baking powder and vanilla essence. Gas mark 4 for 30 minutes. I had the recipe memorised by the time I was 11 or 12, so that is quite weird that it is still in my head after so many years! I haven't had an oven with gas marks for at least 6 years, so that makes it even stranger that I only know the imperial measurements.

I would also include chicken fajitas. Every Saturday night, I would make fajitas for my mum, brother and sister. I think I must have eaten them in a restaurant somewhere and tried to copy them at home, as I don't remember ever following a recipe. They were originally made with pre-cooked, flavoured chicken (the type you put in sandwiches and salads) but over the years I refined the recipe to use fresh chicken. I still make them sometimes for my flatmates.

While I follow a recipe for the majority of the time, I am now confident enough to branch out a bit. I might just take the ingredients and make my own process, or follow the process but sub in my own ingredients. Since I like to experiment and try new dishes, it is quite rare that I will make something weekly, hence why I don't have a bigger list of known recipes. I think I could give a lot of dishes a good attempt without a recipe, since I have a good knowledge of cookery techniques and how different ingredients are used, but given that I usually have to eat what I'm cooking, I don't want to go too crazy and make something inedible!

What recipes do you know off by heart? Do you have an interesting story behind how you know it?