Thailand, New Cross

I've walked past it many times, but a couple of Fridays ago I finally made it to Thailand, a restaurant on an ugly strip in New Cross. Decent Thai food is hard to come by in London; I've had thick, sickly sweet 'green curry' at such places like the chain, Thai Square. At other places, the dishes felt dumbed down for the Western palate with none of that hot, sour and sweet balance, and bereft of the chilli zip I would like. Patara came close, but it's fancy and has prices to match.

When we arrived at Thailand, we were the only diners at 7pm on a Friday night, and it was to remain that way. An extensive menu featured a page of Laotian specials as well as a £10 set menu to include a starter, main and a glass of wine. To supplement our set menus, we ordered a dish of Thai sausages (above). Sweet, intensely porky and eaten with a little coriander and red onion, the skins burst juicily with a prod of the fork.

Chicken tom yum soup was deliciously deceptive. Slowly but surely, a nose-running, eye-streaming heat built up as I carried on slurping at it. Just the right balance of sour and spicy, tender pieces of chicken bobbed in the broth.

The laab style main I ordered came with raw cabbage which I thought rather odd; I'd have rather lettuce leaves to scoop the minced pork up with. Studded throughout with Thai basil, the crunch of the ground toasted rice was pleasing.

'Angry Lamb' looked suitably menacing and the tender, slightly pink chunks of lamb languished in a fire-packed sauce. Red peppers and onions bulked it out, and I was grateful of the steamed rice to cool the flames.

Thailand has its faults but I felt the food there to be a cut above the London chains and perfect when you're in need of a spice hit. I'm looking forward to going back for the curries; absurdly, they operate a 'happy hour' during which they offer a starter and main with rice to eat in for £3.95. It would cost me more than that if I attempted to make it at home.

Thailand

15 Lewisham Way
London SE14 6PP

Tel: 020 8691 4040

Hog Roast at The Red Lion & Sun

I first met Heath Ball, owner of The Red Lion & Sun, at The Ship in Wandsworth. He told me about his pub which is located in Highgate - so far north of the river it's nosebleed-inducing. I knew it was unlikely that I would visit his pub any time in the near future.

However, dangle a carrot in front of a pony and the pony will eventually knock you clean out of the way, wrenching that sweet carrot from your grasp. That is what Heath did to me; the offer of a hog roast. A whole pig on a spit. I gathered 30 of my friends and we made the mission. Immunisations all up to date, we headed to leafy Highgate.

We walked into the garden to be greeted by cute jam jars of Four Roses bourbon, kindly donated by them. I'm not usually a fan of whiskey, but this concoction, full of sweetness and lime, was addictive and thirst quenching. A tray of puffy, crispy crackling dipped in apple sauce kept the hunger pangs at bay while the wafts of pork on the spit wafted over tantalisingly.

The poor piggy had his head chopped off to fit in the spit. A whopping 75kg Gloucester Old Spot, it was basted regularly with bourbon.

Salads were laid out and they were not your usual buffet affair. A multi-coloured tomato salad with plenty of basil featured actually ripe tomatoes that tasted of something. Potato salad had bite and no clag, while the leaves had ribbons of carrots and half moon slivers of red onion. We were never going to make even a dent in the most enormous bowl of white bean salad.

"The foccacia smells like real foccacia!" squealed one Italian lady. I didn't get a bite of it (why eat bread when it could be room for meat?) but everyone that did raved about it.

Photo above by Emma Dickinson

The pork was served to the masses. It was absolutely delicious. I haven't been to a hog roast where I didn't encounter a dry piece of meat, usually from the loin as it's lean and it dries out the quickest. Not here; all of it was juicy and tender. I had 2 platefuls before I had to take a break.

I casually walked past the spit again, and Heath got my attention. "Here, have some belly" - he ripped it straight off the pig with his hands. Oh. My. Silky, fatty, porky, all those adjectives. I shared a bit with a friend and the only noises we could make were "ahhhuhhmmuuuuhhhhhh". It was slightly obscene. Later on, I was accosted with some tenderloin; still pink, it felt like biting into butter.

Claire from D'Arenberg Wines, an Australian winemaker from Adelaide, kindly supplied us with copious amounts of booze. I liked how they all had odd names; my favourite was The Last Ditch. It was a delicious Viognier from 2008 and it matched the food well (if you believe in that kind of thing) - fuzzy fruits and slightly nutty.

We finished up in a far more uncivilised fashion. Oh, those Jägerbombs.

We paid a measly £10 each for all that grub, though we got lucky on the booze front as Four Roses and D'Arenberg catered for us. Poor Heath has gone well and truly off lamb and pork after having roasted hundreds of the beasts in two years, so you should make the most of it and book your next celebration there. Or you don't even have to be celebrating. We had a truly cracking night, to be followed by 3 hours sleep and a dog-rank hangover the next day. Jägermeister for you, I suppose.

Red Lion & Sun

25 North Road
Highgate Village
N6 4BE

Tel: 020 8340 1780

Buttermilk Fried Chicken & Creamed Corn

I have a deep love for sweetcorn. I often boil a couple handfuls of the frozen stuff and eat it with a spoon, a sprinkle of salt over it. Corn on the cob, steamed and then slathered with butter to then be drizzled with lime juice, chilli flakes and salt is a common snack in my house. Corn, freshly popped and drizzled with salty butter, or sprinkled with spices and then deep fried till crunchy, the list goes on and on.

I've never had creamed corn. Having never been to America, there aren't a great deal of places otherwise that serve it. However, I saw this recipe and knew I had to have it. Immediately. But it is considered a side dish, and I could do nothing but go the whole hog and cook me up some fried chicken. Marinated in buttermilk, spices and aromatics, the chicken is deep fried until it had a crunchy coating revealing juicy moist flesh within the crust. The buttermilk tenderises and moistens the meat, while the double flour buttermilk combination ensures perfect crispness.

If you have high cholesterol, look away now.

Buttermilk Fried Chicken

Serves 4

4 chicken thighs
3 cloves of garlic
2 tsp salt
1 tsp paprika
1 onion
1 tsp Sichuan peppercorns
6 peppercorns
284ml tub of buttermilk
Flour
Vegetable oil for deep frying

Pound the Sichuan & normal peppercorns in a pestle and mortar until it is a fine powder. Mince the onion finely and add to a pestle and mortar. Add the garlic cloves and the salt and pestle into a fine paste. Add the paprika and incorporate well. Add to a bowl, mix in the buttermilk. Toss the chicken in the buttermilk, fit snugly and marinate overnight.

Next, preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Put some flour on a plate and season with salt and pepper. Wipe the marinade off the chicken (reserving the buttermilk). Dredge well in flour and put to one side. Once they are all dredged, dip back into the buttermilk and dredge again. Leave to sit for 1 hour - this means the flour soaks up all moisture making it crispier.

Heat up 3 inches of the oil in a wok until almost smoking. Add the chicken pieces, two at a time, and fry on a medium heat for 10 minutes on each side. Remove and place on a wire baking rack and put in the oven for 10 - 15 minutes.

Creamed Corn

Serves 4

4 ears of corn
2 shallots
2 rashers of streaky bacon
2 sprigs of rosemary
150ml cream
Water

Remove the corn from their husks and using a sharp knife, remove the kernels, reserving any milky liquid. In a frying pan, soften the shallots in a little oil. Add the bacon chopped up. Remove the rosemary needles and mince finely, adding it to the oil. Add the corn kernels in and add a mugful of water. Bring to the simmer and then add the cream. Simmer for 10 - 15 minutes. Remove a large ladleful and liquidise in a blender to add some consistency to the corn. Add back to the pan, bring back to the simmer and then take off the heat. Season with salt and pepper. Serve with the chicken. And some greens to make you feel a bit better about it all.

Polpetti, Polpette, Polpetto

It's no secret that Polpo is one of my favourite restaurants in London. I've been to this Venetian-style baraco four times since it opened in October 2009, and there really are only a handful of places that I can say I return to regularly; there are so many restaurants to be tried, after all. Polpo always promises me good wine, excellent food and an atmosphere parallel to none, hence my repeat visits. I was more than a little bit excited when they announced the opening of their second branch, Polpetto. I was positively beside myself when I managed to get a booking at the soft opening. (Remember? I LOVE a bargain.)

I eschewed breakfast in favour of the splurge that was inevitable. I arrived ravenous, and my companion and I got to work on the dishes. We joked with the waitress that it might have been easier to tell her what we didn't want off the menu, and this turned out to be true.

There will be a lot of words written about Polpetto in coming weeks, that much I am sure. I'm also sure that this tiny 28-seater room will be packed out to the rafters, and deservedly so. I'll try not to waffle on too much.

Of the cicheti, duck and porcini polpette (that's meatball) was light yet rich and flavoursome. Melanzane Parmigiana had to be ordered - I've never passed up on an aubergine - but we were completely, utterly blown away by the smoked swordfish and dill ricotta. It was such a stunning combination. Polpetti (baby octopus) we've had before at Polpo. Expertly cooked and in beautiful olive oil flavoured with garlic, sage and shallots. "I like eating things that actually look like the beast", said my friend. He echoed my thoughts.

Chickpea and anchovy crostini was flavoured with tahini, fishy little bites of creamy chickpea on crunchy wafer-thin bread.

Piedmontese pepper with marinated white anchovies were a gift from Russell Norman, the brains behind Polpo and Polpetto. He exudes excitement about his restaurants and he told us that barely anyone had ordered this dish, possibly due to a uncompelling menu description. On first taste it seemed just a sum of its parts - anchovies tick, pepper tick. After a couple of mouthfuls though, the appeal shone through. Fresh, juicy and complementary flavours.

Cochetino and pickled raddichio on grilled bruschetta was visually dazzling. The sharp, bitter bite of the raddichio balanced the rich, fatty velvety pork.

I couldn't detect the parmesan in the batter of the soft-shell crab, but it was light and greaseless. The body was split in half between us and orange goo oozed seductively from it. Fennel salad with a creamy lemon dressing lifted the flavours skyward.

Zucchini fries were exactly what the said they were. Although delicious when dipped in the leftover oil from the polpetti, they could be seen as a little boring.

When the pigeon saltimbocca was set before us, I wanted to steal the crockery immediately - it's gorgeous. Cooked till rare on the inside, I managed a bite before the gaminess of the bird got too much for my hungover self. The white polenta was comforting though, and my friend informs me the pigeon was excellent and I had no one to blame but myself for not being able to eat it all.

One of my favourite dishes of the meal turned up, Osso Bucco. Look at that risotto! A full whack of saffron, tender, slightly gelantinous veal on top. We greedily scooped out the marrow.

Chilli and garlic prawns were properly spicy and nicely garlicky. Fingers got messy and we were starting to get full.

Ham terrine was the dish that broke us. It was the only one we physically could not finish. Mustardy egg mayonnaise was with a gorgeously dense, parsley flecked terrine and I am still kicking myself that I didn't ask for the half we left to take away.

There's always room for dessert though. Oddly I never tried any desserts at Polpo, but we decided to go for the lightest, fruitiest-sounding desserts on the menu. Blackberry pannacotta with almond biscotti stole my heart. No face-puckering tartness I often get with blackberries, the pannacotta was wibbly and smooth. Biscotti was standout and we littered the table with crumbs. Lemon and strawberry sgroppino was a boozy milkshake; made of lemon and strawberry sorbets all mixed up with a bit of milk and Prosecco. Sounds a bit rank, but it tasted lovely.

We ate a gluttonly15 items on the menu between us, and our bill would have been about £55 a head including a couple carafes of wine and the spritzes had it not been for the 50% soft opening discount. Outstanding value, and we really did eat double than what is decent and seemly.

So there you are. Go. They don't take bookings at dinner (they do at lunch) - still, I can't think of a better Friday night, after a long week slogging away, than to prop up the nearest bar until a table becomes free. I predict half of London will be doing this and I don't blame them.

Polpetto

Upstairs at The French House

49 Dean Street
Soho
London, W1D 5BG

Tel: 020 7734 1969

Goodman City

For over a year now I've been wanging on about how Hawksmoor is THE BEST steak restaurant in London. But I am a big fat fraud. How was I supposed to know what was the best when I haven't visited all of them, or even their strongest competitor?

There have been so many posts about Goodman, so I'm sure you know all there is to know about it. If not, it's simple. They do steak; USDA corn-fed meat as well as grass-fed Irish and Scottish beef.

So, when Goodman opened their second restaurant in the city, I jumped at the chance of 50% off food in their soft opening. I am enormously skint, so I had to make the most of the situation. One lunchtime, I jumped on the tube and ran my sweaty arse over to Bank. The room is cavernous, and very manly indeed, with exposed lights and banquettes in deep shades. There is an aging room for the meat which is on full display, though I managed to miss this entirely in my own oblivious way. The tables were populated by besuited men.

My starter of Frank Henderman's Irish smoked salmon was beautiful. Firm, densely textured salmon was permeated throughout with the flavour of smoke. Discs of raw beetroot were topped with a dill cream, and a slightly cheesy brioche-style bread was rich. On their own, all the elements were delicious but I was unconvinced about how they sat together on the plate.

400gr of USDA rib eye, cooked to medium turned up. The meat was tender and my heavy, Goodman-embossed steak knife slid through with ease. I found an extra grind of salt at the table brought out the flavour of the meat more. Chips were crunchy, fluffy but slightly too thick a cut for my liking (seriously - can someone PLEASE reintroduce curly fries back into the spectrum?) and sugarsnap peas, bathed in butter were crisp and perfectly cooked. I hoovered most of these up.

When all was done and I managed to be back at my desk in 1.5 hours, I was relieved to discover I am still a Hawksmoor girl at heart. Perhaps it's unfair to make comparisons given that Hawksmoor don't do USDA meat, but I found my steak to be underseasoned and the meat, while tender, was lacking in flavour somewhat. My companion's Wagyu rib eye (of which I finished off for him - lightweight) tasted more like the steak I'm used to. The service was charming though, with genuine enthusiasm glowing from our waitress.

Goodman do an extremely reasonable lunch menu; I'll be sure to go back for the burger. Meanwhile, with the Shoreditch branch 20 minutes from house and the new Covent Garden site, opening in November, 20 minutes from my office my steaky loyalties will lie with Hawksmoor.

Goodman City

11 Old Jewry
London
EC2R 8DU

Tel: 020 7600 8220

Mayfair branch here

Thai Rice Soup

A common brunch when I was growing up was Thai rice soup. Made with cold cooked leftover rice, it was a bracing meal. Handfuls of coriander would be lobbed in and spoonfuls of fish sauce, studs of raw garlic and chopped birds eye chillis bobbing around, would splash into our bowls. It was guaranteed to make you whiff a bit for the rest of the day. Limes would squirt with abandon as we seasoned and tasted our dishes, adding bits of this and that as we went along, to suit our tastes.I would eat bowlful after bowlful of it, the delicately flavoured stock filling me up nicely. The pictures don't really do it justice, given it looks like murky dishwater with bits of greenery floating atop.

Prawns are a luxury-around-payday treat, but commonly balls of minced pork, seasoned with white pepper and salt are be dropped into the broth to cook instead. You could be ultra decadent and do both.


Thai Rice Soup

Serves 2

150gr (uncooked weight) rice, cooked and cooled preferably overnight
350ml water
A couple of handfuls of raw prawns, shell and heads on
1 stick of lemongrass
1/2 inch piece of galangal
3 kaffir lime leaves
4 tbsp fish sauce
1 fat clove of garlic
2 red birds eye chillis
2 limes
2 tbsp Tianjin preserved vegetable (not very Thai, but I like it)
A handful of coriander
A few cherry tomatoes, halved

Deshell the prawns and place the shells and the heads in the water with the lemongrass, galangal and kaffir lime leaves, roughly chopped. Bring to the simmer and simmer very gently for 20 minutes. Strain and reserve.

Meanwhile, crush the garlic roughly and add to the fish sauce in a bowl with the juice of half a lime. Chop the chillis up and add them too, giving it a good stir. Chop the coriander and add to another bowl. Rinse the preserved vegetable.

Bring the stock up to the simmer and add the rice, breaking it up with your hands as you add it in. Simmer for 2 minutes. Add the prawns and as soon as they turn pink, take off the heat and add the cherry tomatoes. Ladle the soup into bowls, scatter the preserved veg in equally and serve with the coriander, fish sauce mixture and the rest of the lime cut into wedges to add as you please.

Eggs Florentine

If there's anything that'll get my perpetually lazy arse out of bed, it's Eggs Florentine. Toasted muffin, spinach, topped with a poached egg and covered in eggy buttery Hollandaise sauce? Yes please. You can't go wrong with such a fat-fuelled breakfast.

There are many versions of the dish; Benedict uses a slice of ham, Blackstone uses streaky bacon and a slice of tomato. Wikipedia tells me there is a Country Benedict, or Eggs Beauregard; the muffin is replaced with biscuits, the meat with a sausage patty with country gravy, a béchamel-type sauce with the roux made from meat drippings with black pepper and mild sausage added. Ooof.

The only Hollandaise I've ever made is Delia's foaming version. The base of it is made from the egg yolks, while the whites are whisked to stiff peaks and then folded in, to create a lighter, fluffier sauce. It may be slightly time consuming, but it's well worth it. Often when I have Eggs Benedict or Florentine in restaurants or caffs I leave feeling mildly sick, the richness of it all sitting uncomfortably in my belly.

Eggs Florentine

Serves 2

4 fresh free range eggs
200gr frozen whole-leaf spinach
110gr butter
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp white wine or cider vinegar
2 English muffins
Salt & pepper

Separate 2 of the eggs. Place the yolks in a warmed bowl. Place the lemon juice and the vinegar in a saucepan and heat until it bubbles. Whisking the egg yolks, pour this into them in a steady stream.

Set a pan of water on to boil and add the spinach. Simmer for a couple of minutes until it has all defrosted and then drain, squeezing all the water out. Melt the butter in the same saucepan and again, drizzling it in a steady stream into the egg yolks, whisk like hell. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Whisk the egg whites to form stiff peaks. Slice the muffins in half, toast each side. Poach two eggs. To serve, place a mound of spinach on each half of the muffins and place one poached egg on a half. Fold the egg white into the Hollandaise sauce, and drizzle it on top of the egg and spinach. You can have two poached eggs, one to go on each half of the muffin, but I find this too much.

Any leftover Hollandaise sauce can, according to Delia, be frozen.

The London Particular, New Cross

Is New Cross, my 'hood, finally becoming trendy? Along a stretch of shabby looking houses, rough-looking pubs and of course our favourite nightclub, The Venue, outside of which there is a booze-fuelled chavtastic fight every weekend, a little coffee shop popped up. I gawped at it on its day of opening when I hurried past, my sights set on a bubble tea but I vowed to return to check it out. Billed as a 'bowl food cafe', it's so named after the blend of coffee they use.

On a Saturday afternoon at 1pm, it was busy; all the seats outside were taken, and the solo large communal table indoors had a spare couple of places for me and my friends. Delicious-looking cakes line the windows, and the weekend brunch menu proudly declares all its food as home made, aside from the bread. Coffee, though it took half an hour to arrive, was smooth, rich and well made.

After huge deliberation, I decided upon a bacon, halloumi and fresh tomato sandwich, with roasted garlic mayonnaise, and a side salad. This beast turned up, without the salad which appeared a few minutes later when I enquired after it. I was worried the bacon and halloumi combination would be too salty, but the tang of the tomato balanced it nicely. The mayonnaise gave a wimpish hint of garlic. Salad was of the chickpea, squash, rocket and cauliflower variety, nicely dressed with lemon.

All in all, a very good lunch. I was confused by their pricing though; the sandwich came in at a very reasonable £5, but because the sausage sandwich came with a side salad (priced altogether at £6), I assumed the bacon and halloumi would too. I was wrong, and I was charged an extra £3 for it. I ended up spending a tenner on my lunch, which caused me to raise (alright, arch) my eyebrow.

The service may be slow, but I'll forgive them that as they have only just opened. With more careful ordering, I will definitely be back; it's high time New Cross had a decent cafe.

The London Particular

339 New Cross Road
London SE14 6LA

Spicy Prawns with Octopus & Lentils

It comes to the end of the week and I find my vegetable drawer full of odds and sods. A forlorn pepper, a lonely carrot, a shrivelled onion and handful of this and that. Cooking for yourself, trying to buy cheaply and not wanting anything to go to waste, often I find myself munching through a stir fried medley of vegetables, wishing I'd been more creative with it.

Sometimes though, I'll actually bother to rummage through my cupboard and have a root around my freezer, fingertips going slowly numb. I gave a hoot of surprise when I pulled out a bag of baby octopus and a few frozen prawns.

I would normally have cooked this with rice, but alas I was down to the last of the bag. Instead, some green lentils worked out well for this; nutty little grains that didn't sit too heavy on the stomach. Some fiesty spices, a bit of Meditteranean flavours and I had myself a dinner that you'd never known was scavenged from a near empty fridge. You can use whatever you've got leftover, but here's what I did.


Spicy Prawns with Octopus & Lentils (snazzy title, right?)

Feeds two (though I ate it all myself. Burp.)

50gr rice
50gr green lentils
3 baby octopus, defrosted
8 raw prawns, defrosted
1 onion
3 large cloves of garlic
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1 heaped tsp tomato puree
2 birds eye chillis (or to taste)
1 green pepper
1 carrot
A handful of frozen sweetcorn
A handful of cherry tomatoes
100ml chicken stock
A handful each of coriander and parsley
Large knob of butter and a drizzle of oil
1/2 a lemon

Heat up a small pan of water and when its boiling, add the lentils. Dice the onion finely. Heat up a pan and add the butter and oil. Fry the onion slowly until softened. Dice the carrot, mince the garlic and finely chop the chillis and lob them in. Cook until the onions are golden brown.

Slice the green pepper finely. Rinse the rice and add to the pan along with the octopus, chopped roughly. Drain the lentils, put them in the pan with the paprika and the tomato puree. Stir to coat. Add the stock and bring up to the simmer. Add the green pepper and simmer on a medium heat for about 12 - 15 minutes. By this time the liquid should have absorbed or evaporated away. Chop the herbs finely, add half to the pan and stir in the sweetcorn. Halve the cherry tomatoes and scatter them around the lentils. Place the prawns on top and on a low heat, put the lid on the saucepan and cook for 5 to 10 minutes, or until the prawns are completely pink. Throw the rest of the herbs on top, season with salt and pepper, add the halved lemon in wedges, and serve.

Zucca

The problem with a really great, affordable restaurant opening is that it's difficult to get a table on a Friday night on a whim. Even though I called up to book Zucca on the Tuesday previous, 9pm was the only table for two available. I don't know about you, but that's pretty late to be having dinner, especially when there are post work beers involved. We turned up tipsy to a crowded and nicely noisy restaurant.

It's easy to order at Zucca as there aren't many menu options - perfect for the indecisive of us. We went all out with starters, pasta, mains and dessert. Flagging a waiter down, he apologetically told us we couldn't order for the moment as the kitchen was inundated. We got right stuck into a bottle of delicious Barolo, decanted into a huge vase-like contraption. Gorgeous salty foccacia kept the hunger pangs at bay. 20 minutes later, chilli-flecked, oil drizzled sea bass carpaccio arrived and it was was generous with thin slivers fanned over the plate.

I can never resist clams when they are on the menu, and these didn't disappoint. At around £4 for the dish, these were stupidly good value. We slurped up the buttery, winey sauce using empty shells.

There were only two pasta options; pappardelle with peas, lemon and Parmesan had rather too much pea and not enough pasta. What there was of the noodle was toothsome and well made.

Taglierini with courgettes and brown shrimp was subtly flavoured and utterly gorgeous. Again, I wished for more of the pasta which might be testament for how good what we had of it was. I'm an absolute pasta fiend though, and my companion thought it adequate.

I was disappointed to find that they had run out of the lamb main course, but as it was such a balmy night it was probably a good idea I had the grilled prawns with a rocket salad. It was messy business extracting the meat from the shells and I got good and properly in there with my hands. The veal chop, huge and with a strip of glistening fat, was tender and well cooked to pink.

Almond and cherry tart was moist and not overly sweet. Cannoli stuffed with cream and served with raspberries was crumbly and light, the tart fruit cutting through the richness of the cream. We finished late in the evening, by now a bit more than tipsy. We left with smiles on our faces, but not without illiciting some gasps of horror; we tried to open the front door which was a bit stuck and I bent over to see if there was a latch to turn just as my friend yanked it open smashing it into my head. Peals of laughter could be heard all the way down Bermondsey Street as we waddled off to the train station. I woke up the next day with both an internal and external headache.

Zucca

184 Bermondsey Street,
London SE1 3TQ

Tel: 020 7378 6809



My photos are all really odd. It was dark, I was drunk. For some better ones, have a look here, here and here.