Honey and Co

An unexpectedly early finish at work meant that not only did I get to spend some time in the sunshine, but also pay a visit to Honey & Co, Fitzrovia lunchtime wonder by ex-Ottolenghi chefs Itamar Srulovich and Sarit Packer.

Sitting down in the small, bright and beautiful room I am offered a fantastic apricot and Jasmine ice tea by the smiliest, loveliest waitress I’ve met in long. The menu offers ten or so dishes, all fantastic-sounding. After some thought I end up with these:


Jaffa Gate style falafel and tahini, £4.5: lush! If there is better falafel in London I certainly haven’t come across it.


Sabich – roasted violet aubergine, legbar egg, tahini, chilli and parsley, £6: soft, grilled, ultra delicious, with the orangest egg yolk and sweet bread


Lamb shawarma, crisp pitta, yoghurt and mint, £9.5: warm spiced slow cooked lamb, gorgeous pitta, crunch from slaw and pomegranate seeds; a real beauty of a dish and one that I hope always stays on the menu.


For pudding, I had warm marzipan and plum cake with yoghurt, and cardamom coffee, after struggling with the many very tempting cakes. Excellent choice (as I am sure the others would be, too)!

I can’t recommend Honey & Co enough. I can’t wait to go back again and again, trying breakfast next, and soon (I hope – at the moment open until 7pm) dinner.

Honey & Co
25a Warren Street

Burger and Lobster

Lately, whenever I’ve finished work early, my first thought have been ‘Lobster!!!’ Arrive any time after 6pm at massively popular Burger & Lobster, and face a wait of at least an hour (I’ve heard ‘3 hours’ in reply to how long the wait is, no raised eyebrows).

When seated, you are given a drinks list but no menu – there’s a choice between whole steamed/grilled lobster, lobster roll or burger. All with fries and a side salad. All £20. I am so thankful to the (surprisingly many?) people who order burger – surely that is how they manage to serve the rest of us a whole ultra delicious lobster?

Order, get your drink, tie your bib, watch in awe as big silver plate approaches. Drown yourself and lobster in butter. Try to think of anything more delicious in this world. Take a bite of the lobster roll in its buttery briochy bun and think again. How are you supposed to choose?!? (Burger and) Lobster I love you forever and ever.

Lardo

Name your restaurant Lardo and I’ll be hanging on the lock. Serve no lardo (WHERE IS IT?) and I’ll be sad. Prosecco om tap? Burrata? N’duja arancini? Vitello tonnato? I’m happy again. I love you. I will be back again and again. But please give me my lardo mmm ahh!


Venison chorizo, £4.20. Vitello tonnato (poached veal with tuna sauce – strange but very enjoyable) £6. Burrata (how could I ever say no?) £5.20


Cured loin with fennel, £4.20. Simple, delicious. N’duja arancini (a star! Perfect) £6.20


Courgette flower, mozzarella and curd pizza, £9.50


Hazelnut ice cream with biscotti, £4. Perfect end to perfect meal.

Tonkotsu, Soho

The search is over?! Aptly named Tonkotsu serves a solid bowl of, surprise surprise, tonkotsu ramen (pork bone broth), in convenient Soho location and with my favourite beer on the menu. I went as soon as the doors opened and had a let down of a meal, especially “starters” were a bit meh, but have been going back weekly, ordered tonkotsu ramen with extra egg, beer and nothing else, sat at one of the outside tables and slurped away in bliss. Noodle perfection!

Bento Ramen, Camden – tonkotsu ramen in London

I am currently on a mission to find London’s best ramen, so when meeting a friend in Camden a while ago we decided on trying Bento Ramen on Parkway.

Opening up the very large menu, an ocean of ramen appeared. While several made me drool (miso chashu ramen and kakuni ramen in particular), there was no way I was leaving without having tonkotsu ramen. Tonkotsu ramen, made from simmering pork bones for about half a year (slight exaggeration), is the most delicious, porky, UNCTUOUS (new word for me, learnt during early morning tonkotsu Googling) thing on earth.

Bento Ramen’s tonkotsu didn’t disappoint: I found it very satisfying; the broth not quite rich enough but still very good – better than Nagomi‘s version. The egg had a perfectly gooey yolk, the pork was tender and delicious. Cheap (£7.90 for a bowl), tasty and satisfying dinner – I will be back for more.

The loveliest tapas – Paco Meralgo, Barcelona

Visiting my best buddy in Barcelona, I was on my last night taken to Paco Meralgo for goodbye tapas. And what an exceptional goodbye it was!

We started off with chicken & ham croquetas and seafood croquetas – both lovely.

A montadito bikini – glorious toastie with Iberico ham and cheese.

For me, the best dish of the evening was the squid a la llauna, simple but absolutely amazing.

Baked baby scallops were delicious (are you sensing a theme…?)

Our last savoury plate, fried rabbit cutlets, was special: TINY cutlets (with bones small and brittle enough to eat) of bunny. Nothing makes me happier than gnawing on bones and this dish really satisfied me.

On to dessert: we ordered the three most delicious-sounding ones. The Catalan “French toast” was delicious – strangely spongy non-bready texture and liberal amounts of cinnamon and sugar. The Crema Catalana was perfect, but with the first spoonful one of the nicest things I’ve ever tasted in my life arrived at the table and I got distracted.

Recuit de drap. The freshest, most amazing goat’s curd, drizzled with top honey at the table.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A very memorable meal

 

Nagomi – tonkotsu ramen in London

There are days which start with a mention of noodles somewhere; a morning paper, a blog, a cookbook over breakfast. And then I’m gone, lost in daydreaming, obsessive noodle googling, hazy bone collecting for stock making. The only way to stop it and return to normal is to EAT: a convenient bowl of pho or bun bo Hue around the corner on Kingsland Road, queue up outside Koya, or dedicate my day to simmering bones until my flat smells like a noodle joint. But this time I was craving ramen.

And not just any ramen, I wanted tonkotsu ramen! The rich and amazing pork bone broth is for some reason hard to come by in London; I decided to try Nagomi off Bond Street after some googling. Nagomi is small, filled with Japanese businessmen (we were the only non-Japanese), and service is quick and attentive.

Before the main event, the ramen, I had some really quite nice gyoza, and an incredibly fun plate of MOVING squid balls. I watched with great fascination as the bonito flakes on top wriggled and danced over the squid balls for a good five minutes – I guess it was because of the heat but still very creepy and fun.

After gobbling up the squid balls (delicious!), my ramen arrived. Topped with spring onion, VERY tender slices of pork, sesame and an (unfortunately overcooked – not gooey) egg, it was a satisfying bowl but I am convinced that there must be better tonkotsu in London. The broth was not full-on enough for me, a bit measly, lacking depth. The toppings didn’t convince: while the pork was delicious, the egg left me a little bit sad. Tasty, but far from perfection. The hunt continues!

I want help! Where can I find good ramen in London? Why is it so HARD?

Cooking poor Easter bunny, Thomas Keller’s 7 yolk dough and pasta lessons learnt

Spending all my childhood cuddling one rodent or another, it has never occurred to me to eat bunny rabbit. With parents over for Easter, I was stuck for ideas, not wanting to cook a traditional Swedish Easter meal, not wanting to roast lamb, but still wanting to stick to the theme somehow. Egg and Easter bunny! Rabbit and Keller’s 7 yolk pasta?

Two wild rabbits were purchased from Borough Market. I am not squeamish at all but gutting bunny was too much for me so I stayed at a safe distance while boyfriend prepared the rabbits for braising. My idea was to brown the rabbit pieces and slow cook them for a few hours in white wine, fat, herbs and spices, shred and make rabbit rillette.

After browning the bunny, I put the pieces in my biggest pot together with thyme, bay leaves, garlic, cloves and star anise. I rendered as much fat as I could be bothered to from a big chunk of pork fat I keep in the fridge, and used a can of Iberico lard and a few glasses of white wine as well to cover the rabbit. I put the rabbit in the oven with the lid on for about 4 hours on low, low heat (120 degrees C or so) until it was falling off the bones and could easily be shredded.

After shredding all the rabbit meat, I sieved the braising liquid and put it in the fridge to cool. The fat, which solidified on top, was scooped off until all was left was the rabbit/wine/herb liquid. This amazing-tasting liquid I mixed in with the shredded rabbit. The difference before – after braising liquid was mind blowing! I tasted the rabbit on its own, just shredded without its braising juices, and thought it incredible dull, a massive fail, but then I added the juices and all of a sudden the rabbit CAME ALIVE, gamey and interesting and unlike any other meat.

With the bones left over after braising + a few scrap bits of rabbit I cooked a simple stock which was left to reduce to a few tablespoons of concentrated, thick glaze.
href=”https://nordinaryuk.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/011.jpg”>After preparing the rabbit, I started the pasta dough. I have wanted to make Thomas Keller’s 7 yolk pasta dough for a while, and very suitably received my father’s very old and very beautiful pasta machine as a Christmas present. Making Keller’s dough, I made a flour “nest” and added 6 yolks and 1 whole egg along with some milk and olive oil. I incorporated the flour into the eggs little by little and when a loose dough formed, I kneaded and kneaded and kneaded for about half an hour, scared of not kneading enough. When I was finished, the dough was a perfect-looking, elastic ball which when poked at snapped back at me. I then wrapped it in plastic film and let it rest for an hour.

Then the “fun” started. Using my pasta machine, I rolled it through a few times until it was on the thinnest setting. In hindsight, here I became over enthusiastic because it was so smooth and elastic and rolled it out too thin. I shouldn’t have rolled it out this thin but kept it a tiny bit thicker.

On my long, thin pasta sheets I carefully arranged blobs of rabbit rillette topped with a tiny piece of buffalo mozzarella and some thyme leaves. I brushed the edges with egg, folded the sheets in half, and cut out the pasta with a cookie cutter (I didn’t have a ravioli cutter lying around). The ravioli were beautiful, but hard to handle. While the ultra thin pasta sheets made for pretty, see-through pasta, the relatively heavy (and wet) filling made boiling impossible. In the end, I ended up steaming the ravioli in my bamboo dumpling steamer, breaking enough of them to end up with a modest two ravioli per person, and serving the remaining bunny rillette with cornichons and bread on the side. Still, the pasta was wicked! I kept it very simple, using a few drops of the reduced rabbit stock cooked with a bit of cream as sauce and serving it was steamed asparagus tops and thyme.

I will soon make pasta again using what I believe to be the perfect pasta dough recipe. A few lessons I learned:

  • Be CAREFUL with the eggs in your flour nest. Try to mix it together too quickly and the flour walls will collapse and once the eggs start flowing out your kitchen will be a royal mess. Wasting 7 eggs is painful and cleaning gluey flour/egg mix is not fun – just go slow.
  • Knead and knead and knead. Put some pumpin’ music on, your gym clothes, whatever. You can’t knead too much.
  • Don’t roll out the dough on the thinnest setting on the pasta machine. It is tempting because this dough is so elastic and fun but makes it almost impossible to fill and boil the pasta without breaking it.
  • While I’m sure a slightly thicker dough must make this less of a problem, if you’re opting for delicate, transparent ravioli, make sure your filling isn’t WET (mozzarella – too wet; good fresh ricotta – too wet; moist rabbit rillette – too wet)
  • Don’t boil your precious pasta; lower it into simmering water to prevent bursting.

7 Yolk Pasta Dough (adapted from French Laundry Cookbook)

6 large egg yolks
1 large egg
8 ounces (414 ml) flour (I used Italian 00 flour, but the recipe doesn’t specify)
1 1/2 tsp olive oil
1 tbs milk

Mound flour on a board or other surface and create a well in the center, pushing the flour to all sides to make a ring with sides about 1-inch wide. Make sure that the well is wide enough to hold all the eggs without spilling.

Pour the egg yolks, egg, oil and milk into the well. Use your fingers to break the eggs up. Still using your fingers, begin turning the eggs in a circular motion, keeping them within the well and not allowing them to spill over the sides. This circular motion allows the eggs to gradually pull in flour from the sides of the well; it is important that the flour not be incorporated too rapidly, or dough will be lumpy. Keep moving the eggs while slowly incorporating the flour. Using a pastry scraper, occasionally push the flour toward the eggs; the flour should be moved only enough to maintain the gradual incorporation of the flour, and the eggs should continue to be contained within the well. The mixture will thicken and eventually get too tight to keep turning with your fingers.

When the dough begins thickening and starts lifting itself from the board, begin incorporating the remaining flour with the pastry scraper by lifting the flour up and over the dough that’s beginning to form and cutting it into the dough. When the remaining flour from the sides of the well has been cut into the dough, the dough will still look shaggy. Bring the dough together with the palms of your hands and form it into a ball. It will look flaky but will hold together.

Knead the dough by pressing it, bit by bit, in a forward motion with the heels of your hands rather than folding it over on itself as you would with a bread dough. Re-form the dough into a ball and repeat the process several times. The dough should feel moist but not sticky. Let the dough rest for a few minutes while you clean the work surface.

Dust the clean work surface with a little flour. Knead the dough by pushing against it in a forward motion with the heels of your hands. Form the dough into a ball again and knead it again. Keep kneading in this forward motion until the dough becomes silky smooth. The dough is ready when you can pull your finger through it and the dough wants to snap back into place. The kneading process can take from 10 to 15 minutes.

Even if you think you are finished kneading, knead it for an extra 10 minutes; you cannot overknead this dough. It is important to work the dough long enough to pass the pull test; otherwise, when it rests, it will collapse.

Double-wrap the dough in plastic wrap to ensure that it does not dry out. Let the dough rest for at least 30 minutes and up to 1 hour before rolling it through a pasta machine. The dough can be made a day ahead, wrapped and refrigerated; bring to room temperature before proceeding.

Vinoteca, Farringdon

I arrive just after 6pm, ask for a table for two, get a quick ‘no-all-tables-full’, throw a few longing glances at an empty corner table, get a thumbs up from another waiter, and am lead to the last free space. Prosecco to celebrate! Excellent bubbly on tap = awesome.

I’ve arrived early and spend a good half hour reading the wine list. Not because I know anything but because it is THICK and really quite an interesting read, with wines from literally everywhere and long descriptions of each. Party!

After taking advantage of the cheap and cheerful Prosecco we order: salad of figs and burrata with walnuts and a rather nice honey. It is delicious, yes it is.

More nibbles: chipirones with sorrel mayo. I like them because they are the tiniest and cutest baby squid I’ve ever laid eyes on, I want to adopt them and see them grow big, no really, I want to eat them. My handsome dinner companion who’s spent a lot more time in Spain than I thinks they are average but gobbles them up anyway.

For main I want MEAT so order the bavette steak, served with chorizo butter, chips and smoked ketchup. Bavette, which I’ve never had before, is flank, a fairly tough cut with lots of flavour. It is PERFECT for me who love to chew my meat and falls asleep over fillet. A very satisfying dish which I’d go back for.

For dessert we share a creme brulee with caramelised pear; the cream is textbook perfect but the pears too hard. Still, a nice end. We leave happy but not overwhelmed; I would go back for food if I was in the area but not travel to go. I don’t know if you’re allowed to just drink; that would certainly be a very nice night out.