Steamed Aubergine Salad

I love aubergines - I love them deep fried, stewed, baked, stuffed, smoked, mashed. I love them curried, I love them in pasta, I love them moussaka'd. I even love them in salad which is what this recipe is for. 

This salad, with a combination of spicy, garlicky, savoury and sour is perfect spooned over rice or nests of rice noodles. It packs a punch - it's not a salad you can really eat on its own but it does make a light lunch or dinner. 

I especially like the ease of steaming aubergines and I use baby aubergines for this to aid cooking time; simply split into four at the stem (with the stem still holding them together), and 15 minutes is all you need to a quick dinner. 

You can also flame-char large aubergines on the gas hob or barbecue, or bake them until collapsed (prick the skin before baking) and scraping the insides out of the skins and having this as a smoky mashed salad; a Chinese babaganoush, if you will. 

Steamed Aubergine Salad

Serves 2 with other dishes, or 1 as a light dinner with rice / noodles

2 baby aubergines, split into four lengthways from the stem, stem still attached
2 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp sesame oil
2 tsp Chinkiang black vinegar
A pinch of sugar
3 red birds eye chillis (fewer if you're chilli intolerant), minced
3 cloves of garlic, mashed
1 tbsp vegetable oil 
A small handful of coriander; stems roughly separated and chopped finely, leaves chopped roughly
1 tsp sesame seeds, toasted

Place the aubergines in a steamer and steam for 15 minutes. 

Meanwhile, prepare the dressing. Whisk together the light soy sauce, sugar, black vinegar, and sesame oil. 

Heat the vegetable oil in a small saucepan on a medium heat. Add the chilli, garlic and coriander stems. Cook on a medium heat for a minute, stirring and making sure the garlic doesn't burn. Remove from the heat and spoon into the dressing mixture. 

Remove the aubergines from the steamer - they should be collapsing a bit by now. Leave to cool for a few minutes, then cut the stem off and then the quarters in half again. Arrange on a plate and drizzle with the dressing. I quite like this salad warm but you can also now cling film and refridgerate in advance - bring back to room temperature to serve it. Garnish with sesame seeds and coriander before you serve it. 

Kricket, Brixton

My first experience of Brixton was 15 years ago, when as a grungy teenager I went to Brixton Academy to see Korn and basically got beaten up in the mosh pit. It was the best night ever. On the way home, we saw a homeless man smoking a pipe and I thought "well that's quite old fashioned of him" until upon closer, hurried inspection it was actually a crack pipe. That sort of thing doesn't happen so much in the open in Brixton anymore, at least not that I've seen - Brixton has officially Up and Come. 

For better or for worse remains to be seen, but with it has brought Pop Brixton, a set of shipping containers built around a covered yard, complete with bouncer on the door, housing restaurants and bars. The idea was to provide a platform for local businesses and traders who couldn't afford the extortionate rent in town to be given a chance to make a go of it on the cheap. 

All timber and beams, walking around Pop you'd be forgiven for missing Kricket entirely, if it weren't for the giant red K painted on the wall to direct you upstairs. Inside, a long trestle table holds around 20 people, all crammed up, jostling for cutlery and jugs of water flavoured with mint. 

Then menu, made of up 'Indian small plates' is incredibly appealing, with no dishes above the £10 mark. So appealing in fact, that when my companion asked whether we should just order the whole menu, our server warned us it might be a bit much for two. We gave it a good go. 

Bhel Puri (£4) was a portion big enough to serve between four. Crunchy, herby rice puffs draped with yoghurt and tamarind was a flavoursome mouthful, and a joy in texture. Samphire pakoras were less successful for me, being that the flavour and juicy crunch of the samphire got rather lost in amongst the batter. 

Keralan fried chicken (£7 opening picture) was as fine an example of any fried chicken I've had. The curry leaf mayonnaise, sunshine-yellow and silken, was so good we asked for extra and then positively slathered it on. Pickled mooli, thinly shaven into ribbons, provided that palette cleanser often needed with fried chicken. 

Hyderabad baby aubergine and coconut (£6) was such a pretty dish. I loved all the crockery they use at Kricket; it makes such a difference to the presentation. Here, the baby aubergines were quartered still on the stem. The rich coconut sauce was mildly spiced, with a shower of toasted coconut on top. It was at this point that I wished for some a buttery, flaky paratha to scoop it all up with. 

The hake in malai sauce was a little too similar in flavour profile to the aubergines for me, though such is the danger of ordering almost all of the menu. Had we ordered the venison with pumpkin pickle instead, I'm sure that gripe would be redundant. Malai means 'creamy' in Hindi, and the fish was crisp skinned and cooked perfectly, so the flakes of fish came away at the fork. I love their use of in-season ingredients, like monks beard here, to garnish the dishes. 

This 'kichri' (£8) is yellow moong lentils cooked with smoked haddock, pickled cauliflower and egg yolk. It's a real beauty; comfortingly spiced, with the just-sharp cauliflower giving a lovely crunchy contrast to what is essentially a reworked kedgeree. Wikipedia tells me Kichri originally inspired the kedgeree, and if it had been Kricket's version I'm not sure any kedgeree would be an improvement. I loved this, and would return in an instant to have it again. 

They have one dessert; gulab jamum, which is a sticky, incredibly sweet sponge with clotted ice cream and pistachios. They gave us an extra sponge ball - hurrah! - and it was the ideal sharing portion. The soft, soaked sponge had floral hints which worked beautifully with the carom seed crumble and nuts. 

Kricket has some properly brilliant cooking. I've seen much of their Sunday brunch Goan sausage roll, which I'll have to return for, with a side of that kichri too. The acoustics inside the container are terrible, and when it's really busy it can be a little uncomfortable, but given the high levels of cooking, I'll take it. Everyone is super friendly and didn't bat an eyelid for me being a whole hour late to meet my friend. It's great value, at around £25 a head for a lot of food without booze. Their cocktail list looks incredible too, though having had a teetotal lunch (I KNOW!) I can't tell you for sure. 

Kricket
Pop Brixton
49 Brixton Station Road
London SW9 8PQ

 

A Quick Look at Baiwei, Chinatown

If I had to pick a cookbook that I refer back to time and time again, it would be Sichuan Cookery by Fuchsia Dunlop. The pages of my copy are well-used, splattered with oil and various bits of debris, and while I also loved Every Grain of Rice, Sichuan Cookery is an altogether more serious tome. Less pictures and more in-depth, it encouraged me to explore Sichuan cuisine further. Dunlop herself has a fascinating background as the first Westerner to train as a chef at the Sichuan Institute of Higher Cuisine in Chengdu, China, so she knows her stuff. 

Baiwei is a new restaurant on Little Newport Street and Dunlop consulted on the menu. Originally, it was controversially named 'Big Leap Forward' (by its Chinese owner, Dunlop claimed) but they've now decided upon Baiwei - Chinese for 'a hundred flavours'. When we visited for lunch I was surprised by the interior - I had expected something sleeker like Dunlop's other consultations, Ba Shan and Bar Shu. Instead, the room was spartan save for some Maoist propaganda decorations. Our table on the ground floor faced the dumbwaiter, but the star table appears to be the one in this photo, looking out onto the street. Other diners were directed upstairs, though I didn't think to poke my head in to have a look around. 

The menu is lengthy, divided into cold dishes and hot. Pictures accompany descriptions to give a better idea of presentation and portion size. Once we'd ordered, the dishes came quickly; we kicked off with cold sliver salad. Surprisingly wide chewy noodles were mixed in with slivered vegetables and pork in a vinegary, sesame-spiked dressing. Incredibly garlicky, incredibly moreish, though I do wish it was a touch spicier. 

We couldn't resist the cold aubergine dish, mainly because it was served with preserved egg (century egg). This came mixed well into the dish, the grey/brown translucent egg whites appearing every other mouthful. Eaten with some hot rice, this dish was really great. 

Lamb with roasted rice (made by steaming the meat and ground rice together in a bowl) didn't look entirely appealing on the plate being the big brown cluster of meat it was. Looks aside, it packed some serious flavour and the meat was chop-stick tender, though again while we could see the chilli flecks, it was lacking in any spiciness. 

Dan dan noodles with beef was the only dish that had any chilli-heat to speak of, with a slight tingle of Sichuan peppercorns on the tongue. The noodles were appropriately chewy. Once mixed together, the spicy sesame dressing made this a rich and delicious bowl of noodles definitely made for sharing.

The beef and coriander wontons 'in a rich beef broth' was the only dish that disappointed and I wouldn't order it again. Though the beef and coriander filling was nice enough, the broth was a bit unpleasant, a bit too reminiscent of dishwater for my liking. 

Baiwei had some really interesting dishes on the menu that I'd love to go back to try - indeed, the table next to us ordered a big dish served with flat-bread-like pancakes that looked pretty special. I'm slightly confused by the tameness of the dishes; at least two of the things we ordered had a big red chilli next the to menu listing, but it all seemed very mild to us. One can only hope it's not the oft-typical dumbing down of dishes for the Westerners. 

Their pricing seems a little off too - potstickers were listed on the menu at £6.90, while the dan dan noodles at their considerable size were £4.90. Similarly our lamb dish was at £6.90, though the gong bao tofu £8.90 - same with the 'pressed tofu and vegetable stir-fry' - it seems odd to me that vegetarian / vegetable dishes are more expensive. As it was, we paid £20 a head with (very good and polite) service for 5 dishes, 1 shared rice and a soft drink each. Pretty good value for the standard of food we had, though definitely at the higher end of what one would usually pay in Chinatown. 

Baiwei

8 Little Newport Street
London
WC2H 7JJ

Gold Mine, Bayswater

When one thinks of Chinatown in London, you're automatically directed to Gerrard Street just off Leicester Square. Not famed for the high quality of the food, those who know better go to Bayswater instead. I never bothered heading West to this concentrated strip of restaurants until a couple of weeks ago. In a city where more obscure Chinese cuisines are being embraced (Sichuan, Hunanese, Xinjiang), the poor old Cantonese staples, food that I grew up with, have been neglected by me quite heartily. 

Gold Mine has a reputation for duck, specifically Cantonese-style roasted duck. I've heard myths of Singaporean students buying them ready vac-packed and flying them back to Singapore with them for their families. You can reserve tables, and we went en masse for a Chinese New Year dinner. It's not big inside and they pack you in, but the staff were friendly and welcoming.

Roast duck comes in various portion sizes, either on the bone or off. I was worried that I'd built this duck up in my head quite substantially; I'd spent a long afternoon thinking about that laquered skin and glistening fat (it was a small lunch day...). I needn't have worried as it was pretty much glorious. 10 pairs of chopsticks came flying in as we tried to stay polite but really, we (I) failed. I preferred meat on the bone - there's just something about chewing around little bones that I enjoy, and it seemed slightly more succulent. The main competitor on the roast duck front is Four Seasons, but having tried that a few days ago I preferred Gold Mine's; the sauce drizzled over it was more savoury, Four Seasons' more sweet, and the meat less flabby than Four Seasons' version. 

Steamed egg with century egg and salted egg yolks was eggy heaven. Steamed until it is just set like a custard, this savoury dish is delicately flavoured. Each wobbly spoonful I had a little century egg or salted egg yolk hidden within it, and eaten with some steamed rice, it was comforting and creamy. They also do a prawn and scallop version which I'm keen to try. 

Siu yuk (crispy belly pork) was decent, though overshadowed by the duck that had arrived at the same time. Golden sand prawns disappeared in the blink of an eye; the prawns are coated in a salted egg yolk batter and fried, then mixed with chilli and garlic. I'd order a double portion next time. Aubergines with minced pork claypot was strangely flavourless and largely unremarkable, but the Japanese tofu with minced pork (pictured above) was another story. Discs of this soft tofu were fried so that they had a crisp outer coating, and then braised with the pork. 

Most of the table weren't keen on the pork spare ribs with bitter melon, which I sort of suspected might happen when I ordered it. Bitter melon is properly bitter, which I like but I've not found many who agree with me. Pea shoots fried with garlic made up the vegetal component, and although cooked a little past the point I'd have liked, they were tasty and fresh enough. 

Desserts were classic Cantonese restaurant style; banana and apple fritters I gave a wide berth and instead concentrated on a nice, grease-free fried red bean pancake, bafflingly garnished with parsley. 

For roughly £25 a head with beers and service, it was no Michelin-angling HKK, but decent Cantonese food done well. Probably the best roast duck I've had in London too, though I haven't yet done a duck tour. My arteries wouldn't approve. 

Gold Mine

102 Bayswater
London W2 3RR

Tel: 020 7792 8331

Grilled Aubergines in Nuoc Cham

When I'm feeling particularly poorly or over-indulged, it's usually this dish I want to make. Served lukewarm or at room temperature, the aubergines are cooked twice and then covered in a sweet, spicy, sour dressing, tinged with fish sauce and smashed through with garlic - basically, nuoc cham. 

Originally, the recipe came to me with the aubergine grilled whole until collapsed, the insides scraped out and mashed through with the dressing. I experimented with this version by flame-roasting it against a gas burner before peeling, creating a smoky result. Too smoky, even, and too rich for my tastebuds that cried out for something lighter. So I took it back to basics; for me, aubergines get their best texture when you give them a good double cooking. Slim Asian aubergines were split into four lengthways, their flesh held together by the stem at the top. Fried for a few minutes in hot oil so that their skins are blistered and curling, they are then transferred to a oven dish and placed under the grill to ensure the insides are soft and silky. 

Coriander is fairly essential for this, with perhaps mint being of less importance - I've made it without, but it is better with.

Grilled Aubergines with Nuoc Cham

Serves 2 with other dishes

3 Asian aubergines or use a normal aubergine cut into fingers
4 tbsp vegetable oil
A handful of coriander
Half the amount of mint

Slice the aubergines lengthways into 4, keeping the stem intact so it holds the aubergine together. Heat the oil in a wok until almost smoking, turn the heat down to medium and fry the aubergines well, turning occasionally. Do not burn. Set aside, laying the aubergines in an oven dish. Cook under a medium grill for 20 minutes, turning the aubergines half way through. 

Chop the mint finely, and the coriander roughly. Set to one side. If you have roots on your coriander stalks, wash them well, chop them finely, and add them to the pestle and mortar to be ground into the nuoc cham sauce.

For the Nuoc Cham: 

Essentially, this sauce should be made as you like it. Keep tasting and adding as some will prefer it more sour, some sweeter, some more or less spicy. This is how I like mine. 

1 bird's eye chilli (use more if you like it really hot, less if you don't)
1 fat clove of garlic
2 tsp brown sugar
1 lime
2 tbsp fish sauce
2 tbsp water 

In a pestle and mortar, crush the clove of garlic with the sugar until it is a smooth paste. Deseed the chilli and chop it roughly, then add to the mortar and give it a good pestling. Add the lime juice, mix well. Add 1 tbsp of fish sauce, taste. Add 1 tbsp water, taste. Keep doing this until you have the desired piquancy or pungency that you like. Remember you can always add but you can't take away. 

To assemble, place the aubergines in a dish while warm and pour the dressing over. Garnish with the chopped mint and the coriander, and serve with rice. 

Eating in Toronto, Canada

I spent just over a week in Canada - mainly Toronto, with a countryside jaunt to Penetanguishene. Yes, I can't pronounce that either. Toronto was perfect for sightseeing (EATING) with 25 degrees and sunshine every day. We wandered around happily, devouring bags of pickle-flavoured Doritos and bacon chipotle popcorn, willing our digestive systems to do its thing so that we could stuff another meal in. Here's some of the things that made me fat. 

Upon our arrival we headed for Chinatown where we witnessed a spring roll eating competition. Two of the three competitors managed a pitiful 4 in 6 minutes. We heckled, and then headed for Mother's Dumplings. Well-flavoured with thin skins and decent crisp bottoms, the pork and prawn potstickers came as 10 priced at around £5 (top picture). Siu long bao, those broth-filled dumplings that are so hard to get good were listed as 'juicy pork buns' on the menu. Left to cool down for as long as we could bear, I caved in and delicately grabbed one, with only mild burnage from the exploding dumpling. It's a real skill, judging and being able to wait until the dumplings are of temperate heat. The dumpling skins were just the right thickness to hold their contents, and the broth was appropriately porky and full of ginger flavour. 

We were staying in Koreatown so a lunch there was inevitable. It was a particularly hot day which prompted me to order the Naengmyeon in an empty Korea House - buckwheat noodles, served in an icy cold noodle soup. The soup even had ice floating in it, so cold it was. The noodles had a great chewiness to them and I was pleased the waitress had come with scissors to cut them into manageable lengths as I was victim of the noodle flap. Garnished with half a boiled egg and a seriously chewy, dry piece of beef, this was a vinegary dish; the slices of radish are pickled, and it was served with a bottle of vinegar on the side so that you can add more to your taste. Refreshing, though I found the one-flavourness of it all a bit dull by the end of it. But no matter, as little dishes (provided FREE, as it should be - you hear, London?) of banchan - two types of kimchi, some seasoned bean sprouts, seasoned seaweed and a totally awesome potato marinated in something salty and sweet - broke up the monotony. I have no idea whether this is the best place to eat in K-Town, but my friend's stew and a noodle dish were pretty good too. 

Banh Mi Boys was recommended to me by the lovely Shayma and happily it turned out to be almost next door to where we had arranged to go boozing that evening. It was meant to be. Inside, you park a friend at one of 10 or so seats while you go and place your order and wait for the food. The menu reads well, with a selection of banh mi, Korean-style tacos and steamed baos. I went for a classic lemongrass-grilled pork banh mi - a bargain at £3.50ish - with a side of kimchi fries. The banh mi was excellent, properly airy and light baguette with intenselyporky pork that was juicy from its marinade. Pickled carrot and daikon was in abundance and provided a crunchy contrast to the meat. Kimchi fries were thin skin-on chips topped with pulled pork, kimchi, spring onion and mayo; despite its name, the kimchi seemed an ingredient too far but they were still hoovered up quick smart.

Speaking of chips, we couldn't very well go to Canada without trying poutine, could we? Chips topped with gravy and cheese curds was never going to sound massively appealing, but they were awesome drunk food, and I imagine it would also be awesome hangover food. Poutini's House of Poutine serves only that, with standing room to enjoy your gravy-drenched chips interspersed with squeaky curds. We went for the classic, while my friend went for 'the works' - topped with bacon, sour cream and chives. I'm surprised he didn't die of a heart attack then and there. Compared to another poutine we had (at Holy Chuck), the gravy was more peppery but had decent beef flavour. 

It was at Holy Chuck that we had awesomely beefy burgers. The only day it rained, we took shelter by stuffing our faces with them, poutine and bacon panko-crusted deep fried pickles. The menu (PDF alert!) is massive and daunting as well as slightly terrifying (check out the Go Chuck Yourself) but I finally decided on the Big Bad Wolf. At around £6, it was two patties fried in 'ball park mustard' and topped with caramelised onions and cheese. Cooked medium as standard, it was so juicy and beefy the juices ran down my hands almost to the elbow. The deep fried pickles, thick cut and served with a spicy mayo were glorious. The poutine was addictive. I'm drooling a little, recalling this meal actually. 

La Carnita was recommended to us and we popped by for a taco snack before our dinner plans. Once a street van and now a permanent fixture, La Carnita was opened by a couple of chaps from a digital design agency. We sat outside so I can't comment much about the decor, but the tacos were far from authentic Mexican street food; instead they were presented prettily, with modern takes on them such as using apple and mango as part of the toppings. We were big fans of the ox tongue tostada (back left) and the battered fish taco was greaseless and light. I wish we'd gone back for a more thorough work out of the menu. For a more traditional take on tacos, we liked El Trompo on Kensington Market. Good margaritas too.

A trip to St Lawrence Market saw us eating three lunches. We started off with a Canadian speciality; peameal bacon. More like a ham steak these were half an inch thick and crusted with corneal. It was like an awesome ham sandwich. 

Downstairs, we couldn't resist the meatball godfather. Holy god. In a soft bun, firstly breaded and deep fried aubergine slices covered the base of the bun. 3 meatballs, sliced in half and topped with red sauce went on top of that. Another slice of aubergine followed, with hot peppers (which were really freaking hot) softened with onions and mushrooms. More red sauce. Then the lid. It was bigger than my face. 

Back at ground floor level, Buster's Sea Cove offers various fish in sandwich format or to serve it with salad, fries or rice, mostly under a tenner depending on what type of fish you  choose. We opted for a sandwich - beautifully fried fish with tartare sauce and a little salad in thin, crisp bread. We also got grilled calamari that was dressed in a garlicky, lemon and parsley sauce. The squid took on the flavours of the charcoal grill, and was tender and smoky. The slaw was thankfully mayonnaise-free, and I was only sad we couldn't fit in a portion of fries as they looked like the skin-on, crispy, curly version. Who doesn't love curly fries? (Don't say you. Then we couldn't be friends.) Be warned; the market isn't open on Sundays or Mondays.

And finally, I had to indulge in my guilty pleasure. McDonald's fillet o' fish. But in Toronto they have DOUBLE fillet o' fish! Double deliciousness. Don't judge me. 

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Have I ever mentioned how much I love aubergines? It's borderline obsessive really. They're big meaty things with fantastic texture and they absorb flavours like a sponge, what's not to love? This curry is fairly similar to the aubergine, coconut and lime dhal in that they both contain aubergines, coconut - this time though, with a Thai twist and a sour tang that comes from tamarind.

A vivid orange curry was packed full of iron-rich cavolo nero and a head of pak choi that I had spare in the fridge; you can really use any green vegetable you like. Lots of dried red chillis were minced together with galangal, lemon grass and garlic to make a curry paste but it's the lime leaves thrown in while cooking that really gives it that fragrance the Thais do so well.

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Serves 2

For the spice paste:

A large handful of dried red chillis, rehydrated in boiling water
2 inches of galangal
6 cloves of garlic
1 stalk of lemongrass, inner soft part only
Half an onion
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp shrimp paste
2 tbsp vegetable oil

Deseed the chillis and blitz all of the above with a little of the water from soaking the chillis.

1 medium aubergine
3 stalks of cavolo nero, or other dark leafy greens
4 lime leaves, torn roughly
1 can of coconut milk
A few seeds of tamarind - put these in a little boiling water and work the tamarind paste away from the seeds. Drain, reserving the tamarind paste. Alternatively, use 1.5 tbsp ready made tamarind paste
1 tbsp sugar, to taste
2 tbsp fish sauce (or to taste)
1 tbsp each of chopped basil and coriander

Slic the aubergines into fingers and fry in a little oil until coloured on both sides. Set aside. Heat some oil in a wok and add 2 tbsp of the curry paste. Stir fry until fragrant, then add the aubergines back in. Add the leafy greens and stir to coat. Add the coconut milk with the lime leaves and cook gently for 15 - 20 minutes.

Add the tamarind, the fish sauce tbsp by tbsp and the sugar; taste as you go. Add more of whatever you think it needs but keep tasting; it should be perfectly balanced.

Scatter with the chopped basil and coriander and serve with rice.

Aubergine, Coconut & Lime Dhal

One year when 7 of my friends and I took a jaunt down to Cornwall, I cooked up a vat of dhal (very Cornish, yes?) flavoured with gentle spices, coconut and lime to feed the masses and accompany a spicy dry lamb curry. Watching your friends devour something you've made is pretty damn satisfying and since then the recipe has been requested. I couldn't quite think of why it wasn't on the blog until I made it recently; it's quite ugly. Nevertheless, it's delicious and it feels like an enormous hug in a bowl, so here it is anyway. It's fairly adaptable; I've in the past thickened it with slimy okra, or loosened it with stock to make soup but my favourite form is as a dhal, to be scooped up with roti.

The coconut milk cooked with velvety aubergines can be quite rich, so a cooling red onion and cucumber salad freshens it all up a bit and adds a bit of punch.


Aubergine, Coconut & Lime Dhal

Serves 4 as a side or 2 as a main

200gr red lentils
1 can of coconut milk + 2 canfuls of water or stock
1 tsp salt
1 large onion
6 garlic cloves
2" of ginger
A large pinch of asafoetida - not essential, but it keeps the uhm, wind away
1 tsp turmeric
1.5 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp (or to taste) chilli powder
1 heaped tsp cumin seeds
2 green cardamom pods
1 tsp garam masala
1 large aubergine
3 tbsp oil
Chopped coriander, to serve
1 lime

Chop the onion, garlic and ginger finely, or whack it in a food processor. Heat 1 tbsp of oil in a pan and add the cumin seeds. Cook until they become aromatic, then add in the onion, garlic and ginger mixture. Cook this on a low heat until a deep brown but not burnt; this takes about 20 mins.

Add the chilli powder, asafoetida salt, ground coriander, the cardamom pods (split) and turmeric - stir well to combine. Wash the lentils and add to the pan, coating with the spices and finally add the coconut milk and water / stock. Bring to the boil and simmer merrily for 40 mins, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, slice the aubergine into fingers. Heat the rest of the oil in a nonstick pan and fry until browned on both sides. Add the aubergine into the simmering dhal - they need a good 20 mins in there so don't dilly dally.

5 minutes before the dhal is ready, add the garam masala. To serve, squeeze the juice of the lime over the dhal and sprinkle with coriander, chopped.

For your salad:


Red Onion & Cucumber Salad

1 red onion
1 red chilli
1/2 a cucumber
1 clove of garlic
1 stalk of spring onion
1/2 tsp black onion seeds
1 lemon
1.5 tbsp vegetable oil

Slice the red onion finely into half moons and using the juice of half a lemon, soak for 1/2 an hour. Drain, rinse and return to a bowl. Peel and deseed the cucumber, then add to the onion. Add the chilli, chopped finely. Mince the garlic and the spring onion and toss though the onion and cucumber. Finally, add the onion seeds.

Heat up the oil until almost smoking, then carefully pour over the onions and cucumber mix - it should sizzle. The idea is this brings out the aromatics. Leave to cool, and serve with the dhal.

Golden Day, Soho

It was always going to be tricky visiting a Hunanese restaurant with someone who didn't eat spicy food; the flavours typical of the cuisine are said to be chillis, smoke and garlic. Said to be a dry heat, Hunanese food is less numbing than its Sichuan neighbour, and involves a lot more smoked and cured meats. We thumbed through the enormous menu at Golden Day, and my eyes grew wide as all the pictures of the dishes depicted chillis. Lots and lots of chillis. I secretly cursed our intolerant companion. Kelp salad started us off, slivers of slimy seaweed doused with oil and chilli though served a bit too cold.

Chairman Mao braised pork was probably the only dish I could find that didn't look like a fire-bomb. Wibbly wobbly chunks of pork belly braised in a soy sauce were tender and flavoursome, chunks of spring onion freshening the dish. We could have done with the rice we ordered at this point to soak up all the sauces, but unfortunately the five of us were given one dish at a time, painfully slowly.

Dry pot tender chicken was a dish I remembered from Jay Rayner's review; chunks of chicken doused in chillis slowly bubbling under a little flame, sauce intensifying more and more as time goes on. This was rejected by half our group as the chicken was bone-in and quite fiddly - the fools! It was delicious.

Hunan-style aubergines were silky but slightly lacking in flavour. It, like most vegetable dishes, would have benefitted with the addition of some pork.

Strangest dish of the night goes to the sweetcorn cakes. I thought they would be much like the ones I make, but they appeared to be made with glutinous rice flour; they were sticky and intensely gooey. They lacked a certain something, but were quite addictive when dipped into the braised pork belly juices.

Smoked pork with home-pickled radishes was excellent. The slices of pork tasted like bacon, and the pickled radish was at once crunchy and sour. It was a salty dish which needed rice, but one unlike I've had before in Chinese cuisine.

A tofu dish with pork and cloud ear mushrooms was equally good, the spongy tofu making a great texture contrast with the slimy mushroom. There were far more dishes I wanted to try, such as steamed fish head with home-made chilli sauce and plain noodles, and steamed potato balls with chilli sauce which needs revisiting with more adventurous diners. We were disappointed with the service though; it took us ages to get anyone's attention, and when we asked for tap water we were told firmly 'still or sparkling only', which when charged at £2.40 a glass seems cruel and greedy, especially with the level of chillis applied. Still, until I can find another decent Hunanese restaurant, I'll go back.

Golden Day

118 - 120 Shaftesbury Avenue
London W1D 5EP

Tel: 020 7494 2381