A new-ish Jew-ish deli

I went to Katz's deli in New York many moons ago. My trusty guidebook informed me the sandwiches featured in 'that moment' in the film When Harry Met Sally, a film I hadn't seen. Tucking into the thick stuffed pastrami sandwich, it didn't take long to figure out what 'that moment' entailed. Pastrami wasn't something I'd given much thought to before that moment, but after that I've been looking for preserved meat hits to satisfy my cravings.

Mishkins, the newish opening in Covent Garden from Russell Norman of Sputino/Polpo etc fame, really hit the mark with it's pastrami. Wow. It describes itself as a "kind of Jewish deli" and the décor is believable, and the vibe isn't as scene-y and showy as its Soho stable mates. The menu is classic Jewish comfort food - combined with sour gin cocktails, perfect for the drab weather we've been having.

I'd been snacking heavily at work (poor form) so we had to do comfort food-lite. We kicked off by sharing a plate of latkes (grated potato pancake), smoked trout, thinly sliced tangy beetroot and fiery horseradish cream. An absolutely perfect combination of flavours - what more can you say? The beetroot was a great texture, slightly chewy and I can't get enough of smoked trout.



For mains we both shared the Reuben sandwich and mac'n'cheese. Mac'n'cheese is one of those dishes I'm generally not inclined to eat out; it's a dish I can do quite well myself and there's something silly about paying £9 for pasta and white sauce. But it was worth it - totally buttery, not too cheesy (no heaps of dyed orange mild cheddar) but rich, and a lovely crispy, crumbly topping. We were circling our fingers round the skillet soaking up every last bit of juice.



And the Reuben, it was really excellent. Juicy juicy pastrami (my dining partner texted a week later saying she was still thinking about it), thickly sliced and generously stuffed between two pieces of lightly toasted rye bread, topped with swiss chesse and a layer of sauerkraut-y Russian dressing. Again, the flavours worked perfectly together.

The cocktails were great - short and strong. Mine, a Negroni, lovely and bitter with all the Campari. Our dessert, a warm cookie and ice cream was unremarkable, but nice.



Overall, it's a thumbs up from me. I'll be back, mostly to eat endless Reuben sandwiches, and to explore more of their menu (Hello lamb and pistachio meatballs!). And more gin cocktails.

Can't get enough ribs

So I told you I love ribs, right? I'm still salivating over the thought of that meal at Pitt Cue Co. But I needed another fix, and it turns out you don't have to hang around Soho at 6pm on a weekday evening and hang around 45 minutes for a table if you want tasty rib meat with sweet and sticky sauce. Not when the rib man is stationed just a couple of miles from work and home.

So rib man is Mark Gevaux, a butcher of many years, and a man passionate about good quality meat, cooked to perfection. He has his stall at eat.st (round the back of Kings Cross near the big new developments) on Thursdays and one on Brick Lane on Sundays. A food day will start in the early hours of the morning, getting the ribs cooking in a barbecue for hours and hours to the point that the meat is melt-in-your-mouth tender.

I was lucky enough to catch rib man on a sunny Saturday when eat.st was open for business to coincide with the Guardian's Open Weekend. It was pretty early and quiet, so no wait for the food. The options were simple - rib meat in a roll - with either/both rib man's homemade Holy Fuck (i.e. very spicy) and BBQ sauces. I went for both - knowing that as much as I like it hot, I also like it sweet, sticky and smoky.



I cycled home in record time, clambered up the stairs, onto the roof terrace and unveiled the beautiful rib roll onto a plate, grabbed a couple of kitchen towels, poured myself a glass of water. It was delicious; succulent, smoky meat, mouthwateringly tender and moist, complimented beautifully by the mixture of the BBQ and mega spicy sauces.



I guzzled up every last scrap of meat, soaking the stray bits of sauce up with the last bits of roll. £5 well spent. And in a warm food coma for the next hour or so.

The rib trend continues developing - and even closer to home - Duke's has opened in De Beauvoir Town, just down the road, and dishing up ribs and home-brewed beer. It's unrelenting, this gentrification meets ribification/gastrofication. I'd be exhausted, obese and penniless if I made it my quest to in all the exciting new openings just in Hackney. But I'll do my best and keep reporting back.

Burgers: down south

The search for London's best burger continued, and took me to the South. To Brixton, where a Victorian arcade has seen a new lease of life after years of decline. A community management company has started looking after the arcade, and leasing out the dinky units to small, independenty food outlets.

Over the last year or so, a number of them have had the Jay Rayner treatment – a glowing review from their locally residing national restaurant critic at large. Walking around the arcade on a chilly winter Friday evening, it was clear that his is the golden touch. Kaosan thai restaurant, and Honest Burger, where we were headed, both reviewed by Jay, were completely packed, with clusters of young urbanites gathered outside, waiting for a table to come up. Many of the other restaurants were empty or had just a few diners - but this may rectified now that Jay has done his greatest hits!

The early bird catches the worm, and my friend turning up at 6.20 was enough to bag us a table at Honest Burger. We kept our coats on and didn't drink too much to allow for the lack of heating and toilets. The menu was simple and limited – a couple of regular burger combinations, a special, and a small selection of sides. We both opted for the special – that week, a burger with chorizo and manchego and a spicy salsa of chili, garlic and parsley. They came with a side of rosemary salt hand cut fries, and we ordered a red cabbage and apple slaw to accompany.

The burgers were small, but perfectly formed. They came in a fantastic brioche bun, a good, thick slab of top quality manchego and a thick piece of meaty, smoky chorizo. The patty itself was small compared to the likes of Lucky Chip and MeatLiquor, and not as greasy – a good or bad thing depending on your perspective. It tasted more wholesome, and the references on the walls were about the sourcing of the beef. Quality and er...honesty dominate.  

I think I was most impressed by the fries – the rosemary worked brilliantly, and you could tell that the potatoes were good'uns. The slaw was tasty, but again, more on the wholesome side than the badass greasy diner side. So it's a question of what you want fom yout burger. If you're looking for an honest, wholesome, fancy burger, this is as good as it gets. If you are after the greasy American experience, you're better off with Lucky Chip, Meat Liquor and possibly Byron.

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While we're on the subject of burgers, I've blogged about Meat Liquor before, but went again with a big group of friends recently. We went off peak, knowing that a table for ten in such a popular eaterie could be hard to come by. We didn't have to wait long for a table, and were well accommodated, and went all out on sides and starters.

The chili cheese fries were beyond amazing, in their entirety, although the regular fries we had as a side didn't compare with those from Honest Burger. The slaw was closer to my ideal – creamier and fattier, and deep fried pickles were a revelation – I even managed to eat blue cheese in the form of the dip that came with them.

I need to square the circle again and visit Lucky Chip before too long. Burgers or bust.

Food/house hunting

The prospect of moving house is always exciting for me. It brings new foodie horizons, new grocery stores, cafes, brunch spots, hidden gems. It's almost exactly two years since we started looking to move to Newington Green, all excited about moving a bit east. We love it here, but we're keen to buy and can't afford the crazy prices around here, so we're looking further east into Hackney. My dream is Lower Clapton, around Chatsworth Road ,and we've been spending more and more time over there, trying out local cafes and shops, cycling the streets and picturing myself living there full time.

Chatsworth Road is an interesting street, higgledy-piggledy Victorian buildings, a mixture of African, Caribbean, Turkish, working class and artsy cafes, shops and take-aways, part run down, part polished up,  views of Canary Wharf at one end and slopes down to the luscious Hackney Marshes at the other. In the Victorian times right through to the mid 90s it held a regular street market, which has been reinvigorated in the last year. I've been a number of times over the past few months, and it promises many delicious eating options - dickensian classics! Japanese street food! Cakes! Artisan cheese and bread!

But the first up I tried out the Moroccan stall outside Epicerie 56, a lovely well-stocked and fairly priced deli. Meat and pastries were sizzling away, and it was a beautiful winter day.



I ordered a chicken bastilla - a thin filo patty, with the most perfumed, aromatic filling you can imagine. Brown chicken meat was mixed with almonds, cinammon, orange blossom and other spices. Just the most exotic and otherworldly taste, but so warm and comforting on a cold day.



We sat on little stools on the street corner and watched families stopping to chat, hipster strumming guitars, kids playing down the side rode. I could definitely live here.

Finger lickin' happiness

I always find it strange when people who know me quite well assume I'm a vegetarian. I mean, I do live close to Stoke Newington, and I am very nice. But have you never heard me rave about meat? I was eating ribs for the second time this week, this time at my desk in the office, and a colleague suggested I might not be keen on them. Obviously they didn't hear me gushing about my trip to Pitt Cue Co on Monday. It was so good that I am going to rave about it here again, and there it is, immortalised on the interwebs.

Pitt Cue Co is the latest in a series of street food type outlets that have been so successful on the streets that they have made it onto permanent premises. MeatLiquor, of course, recently opened in the West End after building up a dedicated following in SE London and elsewhere. Lucky Chip, my personal favourite burger joint, is straddling the gap with a residency in the newly rejuvenated Sebright Arms. And now Pitt Cue Co has opened a dinky little place in a Soho backwater. As with all the best hyped places, demand massively outstrips supply and so getting there early and queueing is absolutely necessary.

We arrived at 6.30 on a Monday and waited about 45 minutes for a table (we could have had a stool after 25). But happily, we were in the cosy bar at ground level and cocktails and craft beers were on the menu. I opted for a delicious New York Sours, expertly mixed. Downstairs there can't be more than 20 seats, all intimately arranged, but enough room to get those elbows out and pick up some sticky ribs.

The menu is simple - there are St Louis ribs, beef ribs, pulled pork and a couple of daily specials. You can have them on a plate with pickles, chipotle slaw, and a side. Or you can have your meat in a roll. And there are other sides, such as spicy chicken wings, or duck hearts with pomegranate. I opted for the St Louis ribs with a side of mash with burnt ends - my dining parnter had a pulled pork roll, and we shared a side of the spicy chicken wings with pickled celery.

My main was just delicious - the ribs were lightly smoky from their long, slow, pitt-smoked cook, and came in a sticky, smoky sauce. The meat was unbelievably tender, and just a little pungent, as ribs should be. The chipotle in the slaw was subtle, but the mash was king of the sides, so so buttery and the burnt ends (the fatty, crispy ends of a smoked brisket) were so so sweet, salty and sticky. Just wonderful.





The wings too were nice - also slightly smoky (hey, they're not cooked on a smoke pit for nothing!) and in a warm, tomato sauce. The pickled celery went well with it.



So you might be thinking we'd be full by this point? I mean, we really ought to be. But you don't wait 45 minutes for a table just for one course. There were two desserts on that day - a snickers mess, and bourbon soaked sticky toffee pudding, with salted caramel sauce and amaretto ice cream. Of course we went for one of each.

The snickers mess was just the ultimate in excess. At the bottom a gooey chocolatey peanut meringue, then with lots of chocolate sauce, cream, caramel sauce, peanut brittle, ice cream. The combined effect was utter artery clogging pleasure. The sticky toffee pudding, more conventional, was equally delicious. The bourbon soaking gave the sponge a nice aromatic richness, perfectly complemented by the salted caramel sauce and the dreamy amaretto ice cream. I'd tell my vegetarian friends to queue up just for desserts. That good.



So Pitt Cue is truly the best meal I've had in 2012 so far. Oh, and did I mention it was about £26 per person all in, with all that food and a cocktail each? I'll be going back for sure. And I recommend you get there early with an empty stomach to make the most of it.

A little slice of Moro

In general trend terms, I reckon I'm about 8 – 12 months behind the zeitgeist chasers, and probably an equal timescale ahead of the average joe. I didn't make it to #meateasy until its closing week, I still haven't been to Polpo or Hawksmoor. I loved the sound of Morito, but it had been glowingly reviewed in Metro, Time Out and the Guardian and the prospect of a 2 hour wait didn't quite appeal.

Now, Morito, as its diminutive name suggests is the little sibling of Moro - the Exmouth Market classic that has been bringing us the most delicious Spanish/North African/Middle Eastern inspired food for many years. I went there a few years ago and still salivate at the thought of that meal. But, unlike big sis, you can only walk-in in the evenings to Morito - no reservations or nuffin.

So I waited about a year and finally got to go to Morito a few weeks back with some chums from work. Chums who appreciate damn good food and sherry. Waiting a year has the benefits of not having to wait 2 hours for a table on the night - we waltzed in at 7 and took a neat table for four.

We kicked off with a glass of fino each - I had a crisp Manzanilla, reminiscing about my recent trip to Andalucia and tasting those salty sea breezes off it. Our first round consisted of jamon croquettes (so moist and flavoursome inside, perfectly crisp outside), a zingy chickpea salad, aubergine purée topped with dry aromatic lamb and pomegranate seeds (oh.my.god - this was amazing - one to recreate at home).

Next up we ordered a deep Portuguese red, accompanied by chickpea stew with chorizo and morcilla (tender and nicely pungent), cured cuttlefish roe (very delicate, fresh and tasting like a mouthful of sea), pimentos padron (nobody I know has ever been served a mega spicy one - is it urban legend?), and molten cheese with quince and walnuts (perfect combination - earthy walnuts, greasy and salty warm cheese and sweet and tangy quince - I could have eaten this forever).

The atmosphere was buzzy, clientelle were quite Clerkenwell (thick rimmed glasses ahoy, but hey, who am I to talk), and the service efficient but warm, with no sense of us being hurried despite it being quite a busy night later on. 

So the wait paid off, but I'm already kicking myself for how many times I could have visited if I'd tried and loved early on. Numerous publications inform me that Peruvian food is so 2012, and that March will see two Peruvian joints opening in London. This time I'll be reporting from the frontline - no more missing out!

The four days of Christmas gluttony

As a lover of food I look forward to the Christmas period for months, ancticipating all the delicious food I get to eat at all the separate celebrations with different family and friends. Speak to me around 29 December and it's a very different picture, when all I want is some raw spinach and some steamed rice. Just please don't show me another roast potato.


As I write this, I am sat on the train from Edinburgh to London and I am enjoying the experience of not eating. I have set myself the challenge of not eating for the entire journey. This is how people end up on the 'detox' in January – a binge/abstain pattern that a moderate like me just can't sign up to and claims for health benefits have been roundly discredited. Nevertheless, I shall draw the feasting season to a close with a round-up of my best festive meals.


Christmas day
Celebrated at my mum's, and documented well last year, this is, on paper, the most traditional of the dinners. But my mum is an intuitive and imaginative cook and Christmas dinner has become an increasingly ambitious affair. Last year we were proud to have 12 dishes on the table – this year, 14. And with a few new twists and innovations. Brussel sprouts this year were fried up with chorizo and chestnuts, last year's pear and parsnip croquettes recipe was refined – drier cooking helped preserve their structure, as did mixing in pureed walnut and garlic, a little bit of ginger was mixed into the carrot and orange, which was a bit more salad-y.


This year we started with quite un-Christmassy dishes – sauteed frogs legs, just butter, garlic and a bit of parsley. And then some 'sunshine soup' – all peppers, butternut squash, paprika, tomato.



Our bronze feathered organic free range turkey was delicious and juicy, and our small plates approach looks particularly awesome on my brother's OCD plate.







The twists continued into pudding – not one for convention, my mum made her own spin on a trifle, with a base of amaretto soaked apricots, topped with amaretto soaked amaretti biscuits (v sweet!), custard and grated chocolate. The classic chestnut whip (sweetened chestnut puree, whipped up with cream) was also served.





Boxing day
To my dad's, where his partner was doing most of the cooking. She prepared a starter of Stornoway black pudding, which was so soft, smooth and nicely spiced. Stornoway has a reputation for the best black pudding – I can confirm that it lives up to the hype.





The main course was beef wellington – a classic, and more and more popular. As a pastry, pate and beef lover, I couldn't hope for more. Marilyn cooked it nicely, the meat was perfectly pink in the middle, and the combination of flavours and textures was great.



In the evening my dad took us out for Thai food at a restaurant near his work. It was a little quiet a first and we got a royal treatment. The food was excellent and great value – I particularly enjoyed my duck in a spicy, tangy tamarind sauce.


The 27th
It's tradition among friends is to celebrate Christmas together on 27th December. This has always taken place at Afsi's family home, where they've always had a huge amount of leftovers (usually from three separate roasts) needing gobbled up by helpful and hungry young'uns. Major changes this year as Afsi now has her own flat. Taking a star-turn as hostess, Afsi had friends and family all round for a slap up meal, sitting around in her immacutely retro furnished flat, weighing up our homemade crackers, supping on G&Ts.


After a starter or chilli fried haloumi and tofu, we enjoyed a turkey wellington and a massive roast ham. Both were delicious, but special commendation goes to the turkey wellington, which was perfectly presented and no end of effort had gone into making it as delicious as it was. The pate was a home-made with porcini mushrooms and marsala wine, and the cranberry stuffing sinside the turkey was also home-made and delicious.





To top it all off, Afsi had made three puddings – a fruit bomb (very retro, one of my granny's classics), a chocolate torte and a Christmas cake. Impressive stuff.





The 28th
And on the fourth day of continuous eating we headed down to the Borders to my grandparents' house for a wider family meal. As a child, Christmas was always at their house – the only house big enough to host four generations of family, different in-laws, partners, and other family and friends. At its largest, there must have been upwards of 20 people in and out their doors on the day, with two meals to accommodate everyone. As some get older (I still have a living great grandmother!), other units break up, others expand and new families form, they've found themselves visiting other dinners and doing less of the hosting.


I love the trusty familiarity of my grandparents' cooking – it's simple and accomplished, with recipes and techniques fine-tuned over the years, and a few new influences and ingredients making their way into the mix. This year they cooked an Aberdeen Angus beef, with all the trimmings. It was a nice beef, well-cooked, simply seasoned and served with yorkshire puddings, potatoes, parsnip and carrots.





Pudding is my granny's particular forte, I think, and her lemon meringue roulade was just spot on. Perfectly light, flawless rolled. Everyone agred it was the best pudding they'd had over the Christmas period. A testament to years of making and refining delicious puddings.




So that was Christmas 2011, then. Time to eat a bit more healthily now.