Dine With Dos Hermanos - Bentley's

This post has been a while in the making. After the latest Dine With Dos Hermanos which took place well over a month ago, my poor laptop died a little death. One day it was working fine, the next - nothing. A few wails on Twitter spelled doom. Someone told me sometimes it was cheaper to buy a new laptop then to get this fixed. My heart almost stopped.

However my super-geek mate Adam managed to fix it. I fretted and worried as he removed the hard drive (with a screwdriver! Actually took the thing out!) and I asked lots of inane questions while he completely reinstalled my operating system, whatever that means. He gave up an entire Saturday afternoon to poke around my technology. It's taken me a while to find the photos - the lesson here is: Always. Back. Everything. Up.

Anyway. When Simon Majumdar first announced the event, to be held at Bentley's, the places were snapped up immediately. I was slow off the mark, having responded a whole hour after it was announced and was put on the waiting list. Talk of what the menu involved was torture; then, 3 days before the actual event, someone pulled out and I got a place. Hurrah!

On arrival, we were handed little half pints of Porterhouse oyster stout. Iced dishes of native and rock oysters were dived upon, making a great little snack while we mingled over our drinks. Having had a look around, the dining room at Bentley's was markedly different to the other two Dine With Dos Hermanos' I've attended - there were several large tables, and looked rather more formal. The table settings were beautifully autumnal and festive.

Little canapés of foie gras with apple chutney balanced rich and with a little sweetness. Trays heaving with chilli-fried prawns and mayo were passed around before we sat down. More huge platters came forth, laden with a variety of smoked fish; smoked eel was dense, meaty and gorgeous. Smoked salmon, mackerel, tuna, and even little dishes of dill-scented salmon tartare were accompanied by excellent soda bread and blinis. This could have been dinner itself.

A large, white pot complete with lid was then brought to the table. Our table of 9 looked at each other in anticipation, before I could bear it no longer and whipped the lid off. Beef cheeks glistened in a dark gravy. Mashed potato and roasted root vegetables accompanied it.

But that's not all - no, no, no. A fish pie was set before us, the golden crusty top giving off little puffs of inviting steam. I looked down at my all-but-eaten beef cheeks and winced a bit. I would have to just stuff some down. The fish within was perfectly cooked; flakes of salmon and haddock, nuggets of prawn and scallop in a rich, creamy sauce.

By this point I was fit to burst. I felt a bit sick.

A huge tray of sticky toffee pudding was laid before us, like a gauntlet. Not just that - a pot of clotted cream and a jug of toffee sauce. Oh my god.

Well, I'm glad I battled through as this was perhaps my favourite course. This is unusual for me, as I'm more the savoury sort. Rich, fudgy, sticky, lightened (ha!) by the clotted cream, I only wish I had more.

As we patted our bellies, Richard Corrigan and his head chef, Brendan came out to say hello to raptuous applause from all of us for a job brilliantly done.

Goody bags were stuffed to the brim and almost too heavy to lug home. In particular I can't get enough of the chili infused Nudo Extra Virgin Olive Oil. All in all, a great night out; well organised, a loud, convival atmosphere and fantastic food.

Bentley's Oyster Bar & Grill

11-15 Swallow Street
London
W1B 4DG

Tel: +44 (0)20 7734 4756

To hear about other events, join this Facebook group. Full Flickr set can be seen here.

Prawn & Squid Risotto

Recently, a friend came round with a whole cooked lobster. After I finished clapping my hands with glee, we munched away happily on it. Later, I smashed the shell up with a spanner, spraying my kitchen with tiny bits of shell, and it all went into the stockpot. Celery, shallots and carrot went in there with it and a couple hours of simmering later, it became a lobster broth. It was richly flavoured, beautifully coloured. I later found shell in my hair.

I don't often make risottos as they're so reliant on a decent stock base, so this immediately came to mind. A hint of saffron complements the deep lobster flavour, with prawns adding sweetness and squid, the texture. Sadly there was no lobster to add but what I did have made a decent substitute. Crab would also work well with this. Enriched with plenty of butter, the huge portion I managed to eat was creamy and luxurious.

Prawn & Squid Risotto

Serves 1

110gr arborio rice
600ml lobster stock
A large slosh of white wine
1 stick of celery
1 small carrot
Half an onion
1 clove of garlic
A pinch of saffron
1 tbsp chopped parsley
1 small chilli
1 tsp capers
5 large raw prawns
2 small squid tubes with tentacles
50gr butter
Half a lemon

Put the lobster stock on to simmer. Add the saffron to a few tablespoons of hot water to infuse. Butterfly the prawns and slice the squid into rings.

Finely dice the onion, celery, carrot, garlic and chilli. Halve the butter and add it to the frying pan with a little bit of oil. Add the diced vegetables and cook slowly for at least 10 minutes. Add the rice and stir to coat all the grains with the butter. Add the large splosh of white wine and stir until the rice has soaked it up. Next, add the infused saffron water, straining out the strands. Add the stock, ladleful by ladleful, stirring constantly and not adding more until the previous ladleful has been soaked up. This will take about 15- 20 minutes, and once the rice turns creamy and has still a little bit of bite, it will be done. On the last ladleful of stock, add the squid and prawns. Once the stock has been absorbed and the prawns just pink, turn the heat off, add the parsley, capers, lemon juice and the rest of the butter. Give it a good stir and put the lid on, leaving it for 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, and serve.

Aubergine-Wrapped Ricotta Gnocchi

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I have a really big thing for aubergines. It's borderline obsessive; I can't walk past market stalls without buying some, and I've even been growing them (without much success...) myself. Trouble is, I don't have all that many recipes for them. I love them liberally coated in oil simply griddled, or in a couple of Chinese dishes. I also love moussaka or in a pasta sauce, but anything past this and I'm stumped.

I finally picked up my Ottolenghi cookbook. Many people have raved about it but when I first flicked through it, despite the pretty pictures, there was an overwhelming number of recipes for squashes and sweet potato - the arch nemeses of my food world. Still, this weekend I resolved I would try and get over this squash-a-phobia, but I was waylaid by an aubergine. The roots of evil would have to wait.

I was a bit dubious about the recipe in question. How would gnocchi, made with ricotta and Parmesan, not just melt into the water when it was simmering? But I trusted the cookbook and ploughed ahead with it. As I rolled the gnocchi out into fat sausage-like shapes, I then wondered how on earth they were going to fill two of us up. Little did I know, they were pretty rich and were just about sufficient.

Soaking aubergines in oil and grilling them makes them silky and soft. The gnocchi are dressed in sage butter making it a rich, decadent dish. The housemate could only finish two, but I scoffed four happily. One complaint I had about the cookbook was that many of the recipes don't say what to serve with that particular dish; I find it hard to believe that this dish is meant to be served as is, when it's a main course. Broccoli roasted with garlic, chilli and lemon suited it fine, but I imagine there are better alternatives.


Aubergine-Wrapped Ricotta Gnocchi

Adapted from Ottolenghi - Serves 2 as a main

1 small aubergine
Olive oil
30gr pine nuts, lightly toasted
250gr ricotta cheese
2 egg yolks
35gr plain flour
50gr Parmesan, grated
1 tbsp chopped flatleaf parsley
1 tbsp chopped basil
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
Black pepper
70gr butter
20 sage leaves
1/2 tbsp lemon juice

In a large bowl, mix together 40gr Parmesan, the flour, egg yolks, salt and ricotta. Add the parsley and basil, mix thoroughly and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, overnight if possible.

Trim off the top and the bottom of the aubergine and slice to the thickness of a pound coin lengthways. Brush liberally with olive oil and griddle until soft. Scoop a large tablespoon of the gnocchi mixture and using wet hands, shape into a barrel shape and set aside. I managed to make 6 out of this mixture. Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and simmer them, 3 at a time. They are done when they float to the surface. Fish them out - it's quite a delicate business - and leave todry on kitchen towel. Once the dumplings are cool, wrap the aubergine around them carefully. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees celcius. Place the aubergine-wrapped gnocchi in an oiled dish and bake for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a pan and simmer until light brown in colour. Turn off the heat, add the sage leaves and the lemon juice.

To serve, place the gnocchi on the plate and drizzle the butter over it.

Pie Weather

Rain. There has been so much of it. Every morning I draw the blinds back to find the balcony deluged. My shoes are leaking, my hair is frizzing and the wind? Well the wind only serves to make me look (even more) like a banshee. It has been a trying few weeks. The only consolation in this is that the weather makes me thinks of hearty food. As the rain rolls down the windows and the wind howls around this corner of South East London, thoughts turn to curries, stews and pie.

I spotted ham hocks and immediately snapped them up. They were such great big meaty beasts they needed to be simmered in separate saucepans. Having been cooked for a few hours with some classic flavourings, the flabby skin was discarded and pink hunks of meat carved off the bone. Paired with some greenery in a lightly creamy sauce, the home-made rough puff pastry topped it and added some extra richness. I was surprised by how easy the pastry was to make; I've heard from several people that life is too short to make puff pastry. While it didn't have as many layers as shop-bought, it had enough to be light, flaky and buttery.

This isn't a recipe you can knock up after work - there aren't many ingredients but it requires advance planning. What you are rewarded with is pure comfort to dive into. I found it didn't need any potatoes; just a side of steamed greens to ease the conscience.

Ham, Leek & Pea Pie

Serves 4

2 ham hocks
5 sticks of celery
4 carrots
1 onion
1 clove of garlic
2 sprigs of thyme
1 leek
300gr peas
100ml milk
100gr butter
100gr plain flour

For the pastry

250gr unsalted butter at room temperature
125gr plain flour
125gr white bread flour
A pinch of salt
Cold water
1 egg

Soak the ham hocks in cold water overnight, changing the water if possible. This is to prevent the meat from being overly salty. Place the hocks in a pan of water and bring to the boil to remove impurities. Once it does so, discard the water and place in another pan of water, bringing to the boil. Add the onion, carrot and 4 sticks of celery, roughly chopped. Simmer for 3 hours.

Remove the hocks, reserving the liquid and leave to cool. Slice off the skin and hack the meat off the bone, discarding any big lumps of fat and gristle. Slice the remaining celery and leek finely and fry in a pan in a little oil. Add the clove of garlic, chopped finely, and the leaves of the thyme stripped off the stalk. Fry until softened. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a saucepan and then add the flour to make a roux. Add the milk bit by bit, whisking any lumps out as you go. When all the milk is added, take off the heat and set to one side.

Strain the liquid the ham hocks were simmering in. Add 800mls of this (depending on how big your pie dish is) to the pan with the vegetables in and slowly whisk in the milky roux. Bring to the simmer and simmer for 10 or 15 minutes until it thickens up nicely. Lastly, add 3/4's of the meat in along with the peas (they'll cook in the residual heat) and take off the heat. Taste, season with salt and pepper if needed, and then spoon it into your pie dish to cool.

To make the pastry, I modified this recipe, whacked it on my pie, glazed it with egg and baked it at 180 degrees for 40 minutes. It fed 3 of us until we felt sick; I think I even ate it cold (pastry and all) out of the fridge the next day.

The stock made from simmering the hocks makes a great soup - it does jellify but that's a good thing. I added red lentils and pearl barley and with the last quarter of ham in it and some wilted spinach, it made a really delicious dinner.

I am all hammed out... for now.

Snazz Sichuan

My love for Sichuan food continues. I started cooking it a long time ago, starting off with Ma Po Tofu, and later branching out to fish fragrant aubergines, cucumber salads and home-style beancurd amongst others. The heat of the chilli and the numbing effect of the Sichuan peppercorns was addictive. Later, we visited Chilli Cool and I was astounded by how tame my home efforts were in comparison. We sweated through the meal, eyes and noses streaming. We declared it a success.

Since then, we recently visited Gourmet San in Bethnal Green. Huge portions were daunting and we barely finished any of the 7 or 8 dishes we'd ordered, and I left feeling somewhat neither here nor there about the place. Last night was the turn of Snazz Sichuan, located in King's Cross. Six of us descended upon the place for a friend's birthday. Seated around a big table with the laziest of susans, the service was the best of the three places we've been to. Our waiter, Arthur, tried to explain to us that Sichuan food is spicy and oily and there "might be some strange things on the menu". We gazed back at him in glee.

The first to arrive was one of my favourite cold dishes. Ox tongue and tripe in chilli oil had a strong sesame favour. The texture of the two meats were contrasting, the former being smooth and the latter reminiscent of chewing on a bath mat. The crushed peanuts on top provided a welcome crunch. Cucumber salad had a healthy amount of crushed garlic adorning it. Marinated in rice vinegar, it was soothing to the heat of the other dishes and the garlic was surprisingly tame.

A dish we hadn't tried before was this, jelly fungus. A type of dried mushroom, they were slippery little buggers and there was much flinging around. They were delicious; once again flavoured with sesame and chilli, they were crunchy yet soft. 'Strange Flavoured Rabbit' wasn't particularly, but had a good balance of salty, sour and slightly sweet. Boiled pork belly slices in chilli completed the cold dishes and was the least memorable.

Dry & Spicy Pigs Intestines (above) were the birthday boy's favourite, and one of the better hot dishes. The slices of intestine were crispy in some places, gooey in others. The intense porky flavour was tempered by the millions of chillis and Sichuan peppercorns that were piled on the plate. It was the dish that started off the tingling in the mouth. Another favourite was the Hot & Numbing Pork (picutured top). Tender slices of pork, which I suspect had previously been velveted, swam in an pot of angry red chilli oil and Chinese cabbage, topped off with chilli flakes. I think it was declared the favourite of the night; I noted we all spooned the fiery oil over our bowls of rice. We must be masochists.

Zhongzi Crescent Dumplings are something I've made at home, though mine weren't bathed in chilli and garlic oil which is obviously where I went wrong. Soft skins with a bit of bite encased a juicy porky filling. I tried not to scoff them all.

The award for most disappointing dish of the night was the barbeque prawns. It came in a cute fish-shaped dish but under a mass of chips (?!), chillis and peanuts the prawns were strangely tasteless and overcooked.

We ended with a portion of deep-fried sesame balls filled with red bean paste, a dessert that reminded me of my childhood. It wasn't necessary at all really, I was so full it hurt every time I took a breath in.

The final bill ended up being £31 each, including beers and service. It was a little higher than I was expecting but then we had a behemoth amount of food (and we finished it all). The pricing seemed strange on some of the dishes - simply cooked pea shoots were £9 and whilst I appreciate pea shoots aren't the cheapest vegetable, this seemed quite high in comparison to the £8 rabbit dish which surely required more labour. We could have done away with a couple of dishes, such as the bbq prawns and a chicken and lotus root dish we were talked into having, which I found a bit bland. Of all the Sichuan restaurants we've visited, the decor was also of a higher standard and less utilitarian than Gourmet San, but I found the flavours to be more toned down and lacking the eye-twitching spiciness of Chilli Cool.

Full Flickr set here.

Snazz Sichuan

37 Chalton Street
London
NW1 1JD Tel: +44 (0)20 7388 0808

In a Drunken State

I was recently invited to a press and bloggers' brunch to preview Towards A Fluid State. It was organised by Angela Newell and Hayley Sudbury, the duo that make up The Tasting Sessions - "curators when it comes to social lubrication"- it promised to be a boozy and fun affair. Boozy and fun I like.

So one Saturday morning not so long ago, I made my way to Broadway Market. Hackney isn't an area I frequent very often, and anticipating getting lost, I was infact almost an hour early. No matter; Broadway Market was bustling in the crisp autumn sunshine, and I busied myself with a banh mi, a delicious Vietnamese baguette washed down with some rocket fuel coffee. When the time came, I headed for the venue. Upon entry, I was handed a test tube of clear liquid. I was warned not to shot it, and I wondered if my reputation preceeded me. The liquid was infact 80% proof and had a strong flavour of mustard. When mixed into the Bloody Mary I was given, it made for a great drink.

We whizzed through a few tastings; biodynamic Champagne paired a vegan canape, a couple of whiskeys paired with cheese. Gin cocktails came with a bit of molecular gastronomy - spheres of fruity cocktail dissolved in the mouth. A couple of 'geishas' arrived to herald the tasting of an earthy sake made from brown rice.


Next up, a troop of black caped people came in, carrying black balloons and gave us pins. I could see what the end point was going to be, but I was nervous. I am not a fan of needles and everywhere I looked people were brandishing them. On the count of three we were ordered to puncture the balloons, and a sweet, vanilla-scented aroma filled the room, one apparently found in Couvoisier. After a tasting of this and a quick munch of some Bompas & Parr Courvoisier flavoured jellies, we were then given a breakdown of what we had consumed and promptly told to eat it. Rice paper menus.

We ended the two hour stint with a tasting of a very exclusive Courvoisier, poured by an impossibly glamourous, white-gloved representative of the company.

We stumbled out into the blinding daylight, headed for the pub across the road to digest our brunch over a few pints. I didn't really know what to expect from the afternoon, but if this preview is anything to go by then I would suggest getting tickets to the actual event at a Dalston warehouse on the 5th December quick snap. Slightly surreal, informative and lots of fun.

http://towardsafluidstate.com/
Tickets from £16.50.

Just in case you think I've suddenly acquired some snazzy camera skills, sadly this is not true. Photos are from The Tasting Sessions and the full set can be viewed here.

The Blaggers' Banquet

You may have read about The Blaggers' Banquet on other blogs, there was a lot of us involved. The brainchild of Niamh of Eat Like a Girl, The Blaggers' Banquet was conceived after she attended an Action Against Hunger fundraiser, and this was the charity the Banquet was supporting.

The premise was for us bloggers to blag as much free food, wine and beer from suppliers and PRs to serve to 50 people at Hawksmoor, who generously donated their restaurant and kitchen for a day and night's use. Two weeks before the actual event, I sent out a few emails to PR people and was overwhelmed with the response. I was given a pear-coloured KitchenAid (which is being auctioned online right now), 50 bottles each of Marston's Pedigree, London Pride and Innis & Gunn beers, as well as Badger Applewood cider. Not a bad haul at all.

When the actual day came, I found myself outside Hawksmoor on a Sunday at 11am. 11am! That's dedication. I was to be doing prep work and when we went inside we got straight to work sorting out the veg boxes, deciding who did what job. Alex and I were to make gougères, which we flavoured with thyme and chives. Niamh and Sig were on hand to pull us together, organise the chaos and generally run things smoothly. The afternoon plodded along and then suddenly 4pm came around as did a flurry of activity. Canapes were made; Alex and I took it in turns to kill our biceps making the choux pastry and squeezing a greasy piping bag much to our hilarity. Other canapes were crispbreads smeared with a dollop of goats cheese topped with pomegranate seeds, chives and vanilla salt. There were also skewers of tomato, mozarella and basil with a pesto dip.

Photography by Mark N - http://www.foodbymark.com/

The starter, made by Charlie of Eat My Nels, was monkfish and beetroot tartare with a tomato salsa. Fish For Thought drove it from Cornwall that very day, a mammoth 10 hour return journey, ensuring us the freshest fish possible.

The mains were buffalo steaks from Laverstoke Park with Bearnaise sauce. A lamb hotpot and a spiced winter stew, with meat from Donald Russell was made by Neil of The War On Cookbooks.

A gold-dusted chocolate fondant was made by Signe of Scandelicious, with Trish Deseine's chocolate. Topped with a quenelle of creme fraiche it was rich, fudgy and decadent. To finish off the desserts, wobbling jelly boobs from Bompas and Parr tickled us all. Lastly, cheese from Brockhill Farm, Trethowan's Dairy, Pong and Barbers 1833 made up the cheeseboard.

The bar staff did a great job of mixing up cocktails to go with the canapes. Freely flowing wines were matched with the dishes by Douglas and Denise, some of which came from the Tejo. After dinner, an auction was held for some brilliantly blagged items, like a hamper from Harrods. I think we'll all agree that the night was a complete success, pulled off amazingly well by Niamh and Sig, as well as everyone else.

The online auction is still going on, so check back on this page to get bidding on the items.