Muffuletta - the Ultimate Picnic Sandwich

Muffuletta. Hur hur. Muffuletta is a round loaf, the lid sliced off, innards removed and layered with ingredients. The whole thing is then squished overnight, so that it's nice and compact to slice into. It's the perfect picnic lunch, as it's easily transported, and leaved nothing behind. 

It's traditionally from Sicily apparently, though they also use sesame bread, and  other such things such as olive salad to season it. I used a combination of cured meats, cheese, herbs and grilled vegetables. The key, really, is to make sure everything is good and dry before you start layering up, otherwise you're going to get a really soggy bread. 

You need a round loaf, with crisp outsides and soft innards. Slice that lid off, and pull out the insides. You can reserve and blitz that for breadcrumbs. 

Smear the inside with pesto, and then layer with sliced cured meat. I used chorizo and salami, you could use ham, serrano ham, etc. 

Add some grilled red peppers; I used the jarred version you can buy in supermarkets. BLOT WITH KITCHEN PAPER FIRST. No sogginess. Add some basil, perhaps.

Carry on with grilled aubergines, sliced mozzarella, sliced salami, perhaps pickled mushrooms or artichokes, until you get to the top. All blotted first. Make sure you can get the lid on. 

Wrap it tightly in cling film, then in foil, and weigh it down with something heavy, placed on a plate to even out the weight. Leave somewhere cool (but not the fridge) overnight.

Slice to serve. This is quite a sandwich; it'll serve 6 easily as a snack / with other bits, but that really depends on the size of your bread. For ease, I sliced it up pre-park outing, wrapped them all in cling film, put it back together again, and re-wrapped in the foil. I didn't want to wander around Victoria Park with a bread knife. You might be a bigger risk taker than me, though. (DON'T). 

Delancey & Co., Goodge Street

I'll confess - I never once went to Katz's Deli in New York in all of the 5 or 6 times I've visited the city. I know, it's an institution, but have you seen the sandwiches that come out of there? They are enormous. Behemoth. I couldn't face satiating my hunger quite so roundly. That would put me down for at least an entire meal time.

Delancey & Co. on Goodge Street is a New York deli-style kind of place. 'Modernising New York tradition', they call it. Smoked salmon, salt beef and the mystery that is smoked turkey - I'll never understand what is so special about smoked turkey - offered in bagels or various type of bread. When I first visited, challah bread took my fancy and it came totally wodged with salt beef.

That green goo? That's wasabi horseradish mustard and it doesn't seem to be on the menu anymore; all the better really, because that greenness gave me the wibbles. Nothing is wrong with normal mustard. In fact, please stick to normal mustard. The cheese, blow-torched onto the bread is entirely superfluous and I'm going to go out on a limb and say for once, this sandwich is better cheese-less. Yep. The unadulterated salt beef is really that good.

They're not buggering about with their smoked salmon, either. That shit is generous. Too generous for a 9am breakfast bagel. But perfect once the sun has passed the midday point.

It's not cheap - it's definitely not Brick Lane Beigel Bake cheap - at £7.95 for a standard salt beef sandwich. The meat is plentiful and moist, laced with fat and just the right side of salty, and the smoked salmon is obviously well made. Skip the chopped salad - it has the office canteen slop feel to it - and opt for the sweet n' sour pickles instead, to fill your vegetable quota. They are GOOD.

Delancey & Co.
34 Goodge Street
London W1T 2QL

Propping Up the Bar: Merchant's Tavern

Merchant's Tavern has, for a wee while now, been the talk of the town. Angela Hartnett's put her name behind the place, and none other than the indomitable Thomas Blythe looks after the front of house. If ever there was a more snazzily dressed manager, I'm yet to meet them. 

We visited on a Sunday afternoon, that awkward time in between lunch and dinner. I wouldn't describe the space as what one might traditionally call a tavern - that, for me, brings to mind a lot of gloomily lit room decorated in dark wood panelling, tankards of mead on offer - but instead an airy, banquette-lined spacious bar, opening to a dining room lit by skylights. 

We perched on stools by the bar, facing a fridge full of cured meats, dangling tantalisingly. One of us sipped on an absinthe-laced cocktail, while the other nursed a 'Dr. Henderson the Younger', heady with Fernet Branca and gin. My eyes widened a touch at the pricing on the main menu, and instead we decided to graze on the bar menu. 

Pigs head and veal kremeski (sic) - a well posh croquette yes? - were plump fingers of perfectly crisp, liberally seasoned slow-cooked meat dribbled with a tarragon mayonnaise. Served in a little copper pot, they were just the thing I can imagine were deceptively time-consuming to make.

We further tested the skills of the fryer with blisteringly hot cauliflower spheres, the cheese-stuffed middles eager to ooze from its carapace. They were how I'd like all my cauliflower cheese from now on - intense creamy brassica flavour. Haddock fish fingers came with a tartare sauce so deliciously tangy it was hard not to just eat it all up with your fingers... as you can see.

We took a well needed vegetable break, and the Little Gem lettuce, braised and dressed with brown shrimp and pickled cucumber was the ideal foil for all the richness we'd indulged in. The pickled cucumber took the thinly shaved ribbon form and was unexpectedly but pleasantly sweet. Fat, amber prawns (top pic) whiffed of freshly fried garlic, spiked through with chilli. Their bodies, de-shelled were eagerly swiped through the aioli, though the juices sucked from their heads were a little on the bitter side.

Then, the main show/heart stopper arrived. Ogleshield and ham toasted sandwich might, on paper, sound rather dull. But we knew that to charge £8 for a toasted sandwich it had to be something special, right? So we ordered it, and it was amazing. Thick, soft bread fried until crisp in what I suspect was butter was stuffed with cheese that surely must've been mixed with bechemel, it was so rich and luxurious. The ham was substantial; thickly cut, proper ham. The sweet-sour pickles were a palate-cleansing necessity, the Picpoul de Pinet helping it along a bit. It's the best toasted sandwich I've ever had. We rounded off our indulgence with a perfectly wobbly vanilla-flecked custard, topped with boozy prunes. 

Avoiding the so-perceived costly dining room menu in favour of the bar turned out to be a vain attempt, as we faced a £50-a-head bill. 

Merchant's Tavern

36 Charlotte Road
London EC2A 3PG

020 7060 5335

Dunne Frankowski at Sharp's

Dunne what? At where? I kept seeing Instagram photos popping up on my feed of a trendy coffee shop tagged at this location and I didn't take much notice as really, I don't take much notice of coffee. Then my friend Ed wrote about it here and I realised it wasn't just about coffee, but toasted sandwiches too. Who doesn't love a toasted sandwich? Show me them and I'll shun them appropriately. 

So, what with it being a 5 minute walk from my office, I strong-armed Ed into meeting me there for lunch. There's a barber shop out back and a cavernous, rather dark space with a simple bar. Huge chrome coffee machines and a few grills for toasting sandwiches is the sum of its parts. I ordered a meatball, cheese and pickled fennel toastie (£4.50) and we went outside to sit on their bench. 10 minutes later (for they are made and toasted from scratch) our sandwiches arrived and though my meatball number was flavoursome, cheesy goodness, the sharp tang of pickled fennel saying "HELLO! I'm here!" and working rather beautifully with the pork, I'd set eyes on Ed's Stilton and kimchi version (opening photo) and was immediately jealous. I lightly cajoled him into swapping his other half with me and I'm glad my bullying tactics worked because it was a winner. Kimchi and Stilton on paper sounds like a flavour sensation, perhaps overwhelming, but it wasn't - it was perfect. 

We finished up with a greengage and custard tart that actually I bullied Ed into making for me, and only got a little disheveled in its bike ride. So really I'm just teasing with that photo as they don't sell them at Dunne Whatchamacallit. 

It's just dawned on me that I wasn't very nice to poor Ed. But at Dunne's, the bread is sourdough, the cheese is posh, and these guys sure as shit know their pickles. They are really very good. 

Dunne Frankowski at Sharp's  

9 Windmill Street, 
W1T 2JF

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. 

Slider Bar, Soho

I couldn't help it. I am completely obsessed with the burgers from Lucky Chip and I'm not the only one. My friends now get burger cravings, and we wind each other up with just a mention of their Daryl Hannah (a fillet-o'-fish version) and the chilli cheese fries. As soon as Slider Bar, Lucky Chip's new Soho outpost, was mentioned, we had to go. To me, sliders are mini burgers so that means I get to eat lots of different flavoured burgers right? Good. So I apologise, this is based all on Slider Bar's opening night, something I'm still debating about whether it's a fair thing to do or not as surely they're still settling in? But hey, if they're taking my money...

Just like at The Sebright Arms, they've collaborated with an existing space to serve the food there, and in this instance it's The Player Bar. A nondescript door just off Wardour Street, the main vein of Soho, blink and you'll miss the little sign proclaiming its presence. Downstairs, the room is big and blue-lit - it was a cocktail bar after all. 

The menu is split off into starters, sliders with chips and desserts. We zoned straight in to the chicken bucket for two (£9). Fried chicken, cheese croquettes, creamed corn and chicken gravy. It was too much for me to move on from. A tray arrived with a small tub of well fried, juicy chicken. The coating was nicely crunchy, the chicken beneath juicy and flavoursome. We squirted the chicken gravy over pieces and scoffed them quick smart. The cheese croquettes were vehicles for the creamed sweetcorn - and oh, that creamed sweetcorn. It was smooth, sweet, corny glory in a pot. I frantically flagged down a waitress for a fork, a spoon - anything, now that I was out of cheese vehicles. 

That chicken starter made me only hungrier for my sliders. The menu format offers two sliders with chips for £12.50, but our waiter conspiratorially told us we could add an extra slider for £4 or so, so we got 3 sliders to share between us. Our favourite, the fillet o' fish (top background slider) was a perfect mini version of the Daryl Hannah. The double cheeseburger had two patties fused with melted cheese; cooked perfectly to medium - impressive given it's diminutive size - and these were messily good. Our last, the Club was also a two pattied beast with lettuce, onion and tomato; much like a mini Big Mac I suppose. I was in a slider heaven. A moment of confusion occured when I dipped a chip into a little pot of white stuff, thinking it was mayonnaise. I was slightly startled to find that it was some sort of fizzy lemon sherbet foam. Okay, perhaps it's that McDonald's fries dipped in vanilla ice cream kind of thing? (Come on - we've all done it.) I carried on dipping confidently until when asked, one of the servers told us it was a palate cleanser. That would explain the popping candy. I felt quite silly. 

Having shared our sliders though, we figured that meant we could fit one last dish in, and we went back to the starters and ordered the fish n' chips (£7.50). It was the lure of the 'fish skin crisps' in the description. The dish was made up of a log of hake, enclosed in a delicate greaseless batter arrived, perfectly fried and crispy. A seared scallop was perched atop crushed peas, flavoured well with a mint oil. The fish skin crisps looked alarmingly salted, but a dab of that salt revealed it was in fact powdered malt vinegar. We gazed at each other in wonderment, pleased as punch that we'd decided to order it. It was excellent, and so refined and clever that it actually seemed incongruous for the burger place I thought it was. Still, there is a very smart person in the kitchen - and someone incredibly good at deep-frying too. 

We skipped dessert (ice cream burgers), something I won't be doing next time. A small part of me wished the menu format wasn't so rigid - for example it would be nice if you could go and order 5 sliders and skip the (admittedly good) chips or something, but there doesn't seem to be that option. Still, I can't wait to go back already. 

The Slider Bar at The Player 
8 Broadwick Street 
London W1F 8HN

Blackened Mackerel & Miso Sandwich

I was in two minds about whether to write about this sandwich. Goddamn it was hard work. It was a labour of love, something that I've pursued doggedly for the past two months. It cost me a lot of money and a lot of effort and yet when making it, I still had no idea how it would taste until I first sunk my teeth into it.

The recipe was from the 2nd edition of Lucky Peach, a food quarterly written by David Chang and Peter Meehan. Call me a Momofuku fan girl and it's true; I am a huge fan. My first stumbling block was in the blackening spice. It called for Grains of Paradise (below); what? Aframomum melegueta, a spice of the ginger family. Fine, there are shops online that sell it. Pure tomato powder? Also tricky, but not impossible. Chang's recommended shop sells both but ships to the US only, so I managed to combine this with my New Year New York trip.

But what's this, KONBU POWDER? Good lord. A spice grinder was purchased. It was no easy feat, the toasting and grinding of 6 different spices, and then dry roasting a piece of konbu seaweed too, before grinding it into oblivion. At one point I cursed the day I set eyes on the recipe.

Bluefish. What is bluefish? Not something I'd seen before at the fishmongers. I wearily swapped in mackerel instead, beautiful shiny fillets glimmering with freshness.

Finally I could set about making my sandwich. The only thing left to do was to make the miso mayonnaise. It was described as 'one of the standout parts of the dish' so, you know, it was quite essential. Of course when I got to making the mayonnaise the bloody thing split and I, arm limp from constant whisking, had to chuck it all away and start again. Even an extra egg yolk wouldn't save this demonic sauce. I gritted my teeth and got to it.

Bread toasted, miso mayo smeared, gherkins balanced carefully atop the shredded lettuce and mackerel slid on top, AT LAST. I took a glorious bite and then it was all worth it. The fish was spicy and crispy and moist, the grains of paradise giving it a little lemony tartness. The miso mayo was nutty, rich and luxurious. The pillowy ciabatta held it's bounty well, pickles snapping under the teeth and the lettuce cooling the mouth. Thank Christ.

I watched my housemates devour theirs, all beady-eyed like a hawk for their reactions. This was my baby. I was too attached to make an informed decision.

"That was freaking delicious."

And then I realised I'd forgotten about the potato chips, also dredged in blackening spice and layered into the middle of the sandwich. !*&%!

For the sandwich

Serves 4

1 loaf of ciabatta
4 mackerel fillets
A couple handfuls of shredded Iceberg lettuce
Butter
4 pickled cucumbers (I bought these, dill pickles. Chang includes a recipe to make them. No way man.)

Slice the loaf into 4 sandwich sizes. Split in half, smear with butter and grill inside up to toast. Meanwhile dredge the mackerel fillets in the spice mix and fry on both sides for 2 - 3 mins in hot oil.

Smear the toasted bread with the miso mayo. Add shredded lettuce, then the gherkin and the fish fillets. Place the other side of bread on top and slice in half to serve. The recipe also recommends making crisps and then sprinkling them in the blackening spice. I forgot and it was still awesome.

Blackening Spice

Enough to make this recipe a couple of times

This is in teaspoons, tablespoons and cups. Sorry. I know we don't use cups but I forgot to convert them.

3 tbsp grains of paradise
2 tsp black peppercorns
1 tsp coriander seed
4 tbsp mustard seeds (the yellow kind)
1 tsp cumin seed
1 tsp whole allspice
1/4 cup of ground konbu - cut a sheet of konbu up into small pieces and then toast in a dry frying pan. You'll need more seaweed than you think. Grind to a fine powder once cooled.
3 tbsp onion powder
6 tbsp cayenne powder
1/4 cup of tomato powder
1/2 cup sweet Spanish smoked paprika

Toast and grind the whole spices, then mix with everything else.

Miso Mayo

1 egg yolk
250ml neutral oil
2 tbsp white miso
1 tbsp cider vinegar
A pinch of salt

Use your best mayonnaise making technique and add the miso. I won't tell you mine because it failed once. Chang recommends a food processor, pureeing the egg yolk while adding the oil in a slow steady stream. Add the miso and vinegar and pulse to combine.