Manhattan In a Weekend

My trips to New York are becoming more and more audacious; everyone I told that I was going just for a weekend responded with incredulity. It's a touch longer than a weekend; we went over the bank holiday, leaving work at 1pm on the Friday, to arrive back in London on Monday evening. Obviously it isn't enough time in My Spiritual Home, but it would have to do.

Our last odyssey had us there at the beginning of January 2015, a frigid time filled with freezing winds, snow and a lot of woollens. This time, it couldn't have been more opposite, the balmy weather hitting the early 30s Celcius. Due to our shortened timescales, we decided to stay at Hotel Chandler, a lovely little hotel right in the middle of K-Town, to allow us good access to Newark Airport - definitely, definitely fly to Newark over JFK. It is dreamy, in comparison.

We dumped our bags and headed straight to Gramercy Tavern, which has been on my list for years. We slung a bucketful of martini down our necks, and were taken aback by the deliciousness of the cornbread with lamb sausage and green tomato. It's not the Deep South cornbread I thought it was going to be; the crisp flatbread was embedded with corn, topped with minced lamb patties, and the green tomatoes were apple-like in crisp sweetness. For days afterwards we still debated if this was the best thing we ate.

A tomato salad with stone fruits and basil was light and summery, refreshing and served to us in individual bowls, divided so we didn't have to fight, as they knew we were sharing. That is service. I don't think I really knew good (casual) service until going to New York.

Grilled corn, shrimp and dumplings in miso was richly flavoured, bursting with sweetness and seafood. We both zoned in on this one the minute we opened our menus, being the Asian-lovers we are, and it was everything I wanted out of a bowl.

Roasted tomatoes, macaroni and cheddar cheese was comforting goodness, without being too rich and sleep-inducing. We had just come off a nearly 8 hour flight and we were wary of cutting our evening short with a carb-hit to end all evenings, but we needn't have worried. Just the right portion size for two, the extra crunch of the breadcrumbs on top ensured each mouthful kept our attention till the end. We forewent dessert, and I regret not trying the wild blueberry pie, but cocktail bars required our attention. Of all the meals of the weekend, it wasn't the cheapest, at $170 total but it was worth each one of our hard-earned Brexit-fucked pennies. I can't talk about the exchange rate right now, it hurts too much.

The next day we bounded out of bed to meet a dear friend at Jack's Wife Freda, a restaurant that has branches in SoHo and the West Village. The latter is larger, so we only had a short wait for a table as my hangover kicked in with ferocity and I was only able to muster the orange blossom and honey pancakes. The green shakshuka and the Madame Freda, made with duck prosciutto were well received by my friends, though a little more care on the egg cooking may have been necessary to be rid of that dreaded egg white flob.

Root & Bone was the venue for lunch, where we met up with Rej of Gastro Geek fame, and reminisce about the good old days of food blogging in London. Well, I imagine we would have done more of that if we weren't so bewitched by her utterly gorgeous two little boys who ran us ragged with their cheekiness and boundless energy. Parenting is hard. Anyway, we bimbled around for a while until our table was ready and dang (to use a localism?) that place was packed, but you can book.

The waitresses were harried, but efficient and soon enough, a half bucket of the crispest fried chicken arrived, along with a watermelon salad dressed with jalapeno buttermilk. Around us, people were having fried chicken with waffles and eggs benedict, brunching hard and enjoying the shaded outdoor seating.

We stopped for a drink at The Frying Pan, a big boat off Chelsea, along with a lot of New York's younger revellers (top picture). I'll freely admit I felt a little old there, but the sun was shining and it's nice being on water. We plotted our course through the afternoon and decided to stop off at Momofuku Nishi in time for Happy Hour (5:30pm). When The Impossible Burger was on the menu, we had to try it.

Made entirely from plants and plant-based products, it's meant to mimic the flavour of a hamburger. It does, and I think it's largely down to the condiments. The burger comes with a McDonald's-esque burger sauce, strong in pickle flavour, and the lettuce, tomato and slappy cheese go along to help that. The bun is squishy and sweet, and there is a hint of a meaty char. It's a decent attempt and I think if I were a vegetarian I might enjoy it more, but it definitely doesn't have the same mouthfeel or satisfaction of a normal cheeseburger.

I had to convince my friend to order the 'butter noodles - chickpea hozon, black pepper' - "but Lizzie, we were only coming for a snack!". Well, if it isn't the best bloody noodle dish I've had in a while. It's like cacio e pepe, except somehow richer in flavour, and lighter in feeling. It had intense savouriness from the hozon - a term invented by chef / owner Chang for making miso out of non-traditional ingredients (soybeans being the most common). The noodles were cooked to almost too al dente, but only almost. I know I'm a David Chang fan anyway, but seriously. (Also, for $19, I'd hope so too.)

We ate in Korea Town more often than we'd intended to, but that's no bad thing. After going to my friend's incredibly beautiful and fun wedding, we found ourselves hammered and hungry at 4am. K-Town was still up an at it, and we wobbled through the doorway of BCD Tofu House down to the basement for some late-night booze-soaker-upper-supper. It. Was. Rammed. At 4am, packed to the rafters. We were agog; truly, it is the city that never sleeps. They brought us banchan (Korean pickles) of kimchi, marinated beansprouts, pak choi, a strange mayonnaise-y potato salad, a freshly fried salted fish and various other bits before we'd even ordered. I think I had a soondoobu jjigae (spicy seafood and tofu stew) and I'm pretty sure my friend had the pork bulgogi but what I do know is we left stuffed and happy, $30 all told (though we were all boozed out by then, so that's just food). I love you, New York.

On our last night too, we went to Kang Ho Dong Baekjeong (say that after a few) for Korean barbecue; the place is open till 6am EVERY NIGHT. Two floors, and packed at 10pm on a Sunday night. Mental. We feasted on their beef combo of bulgogi, prime rib and other cuts, while omelette poofed and cooked on the right and corn cooked down with gooey cheese on the left. A vast array of pickles and lettuce and sauces accompanied the meal and they also brought us a fiery kimchi stew. A teeth-achingly sweet carafe of yuzu sochu cocktail made us giddy. I was in heaven.

I wanted to try some ramen in New York, so we headed to Ivan Ramen's Slurp Shop in Hell's Kitchen which is housed in a pretty helpful food court. It's a bit Westfield in feeling but as it has tacos, tapas and decent coffee, it would suit the most diverse of cravings amongst a group. The breakfast ramen, with cheesy dashi, ham and omelette (top) was pretty mega; too much for me to handle, but my friend went in with gusto. I opted for the Shio ramen with extra toppings of enoki mushrooms (weirdly plonked on raw), a soft egg and toasted nori. It was a decent bowl of noodles, but we do it better in London. Spicy miso-buttered corn on a stick was a nice touch, though the cabbage salad was uninspiring. It is not the crisp, crunchy sweetness of our very own Bone Daddies.

We walked 17 kilometres around New York on both days, enjoying the sunshine and avoiding the subway - as well as working up our appetites for more food. Harry & Ida's Meat Supply Co. was an oasis of calm, shaded and bedecked in wood, reminiscent of a film set though I'm not sure which. We'd squeezed in some cheeky dumplings from Tasty Dumpling (I wouldn't bother again; they were roughly hewn, and overly doughy) as well as crammed in some tofu and noodles from Xi'an Famous Foods, a must if ever I'm in the city - so this sandwich wasn't one I was hugely enthused about. I was positively lethargic. "Can we get Ida's?" I bleated. Ida's is the 'light' version of the pastrami sandwich. (Something something female stereotypes huff huff something). 

It is wonderful. The bread is light - no roof of the mouth scrapings here - and spongy, and the inside is smeared with wholegrain mustard that has a strong hint of the American about it (you know the type, French's). The meat is warm and fatty - and actually the American 'pastrami' is our salt beef - and full of fatty, juicy flavour. The cucumber pickles are crisp and sweet, though we plucked out some of the over-generous fronds of dill. If I lived in New York I'd buy that pastrami by the pound, which they sell there in bulk, along with smoked eel, bluefish salad, smoked chicken etc. 

We waddled off to get an ice cream at The Big Gay Ice Cream Shop, and went for the Salty Pimp; soft serve vanilla with salted caramel, dipped in chocolate. Holygod. 

Diet time. 

Miso Polenta Bowl

Sometimes, an idea can be so bonkers it might just work. It was a Saturday morning and I'd risen from my hovel a bit groggy and absolutely ravenous. There was nothing in the fridge; well, besides half a courgette, an avocado ready to turn and some leftover spring onion and ginger magic sauce that is literally the best thing ever if you can be bothered to chop three whole bunches of spring onion. A lone egg rolled around on the counter-top, bumping together with three pitiful cherry tomatoes. There was no way I could face going outside. What's a girl to do? Improvise.

The nice folk over at The Wasabi Company sent me some of their sauces to try, and I've been actively addicted to the Champonzu (red top) ever since. At £12.20 for a 300ml bottle, it's going to be an expensive addiction but you don't need much of it to bring out the five different Japanese citrus fruits. It has a very savoury base, with zesty orange and yuzu notes. I wanted this in my brunch. A ferret around the cupboard revealed the only carby base available to me was polenta. An idea was born.

Typically I'd look for cheese to enrich the polenta with and give it some flavour, but... no cheese. So instead, miso for a little umaminess to pep that polenta up. It worked an absolute treat, especially once you factor in the molten gold of that soft-boiled egg.

Miso Polenta Bowl

Serves 2

150gr instant polenta
2 heaped tsp light miso
A knob of butter
Half a courgette, sliced into thick matchsticks
Half an avocado, slivered at the last minute to prevent browning
A handful of cherry tomatoes, halved
2 soft boiled eggs, peeled
2 tbsp magic spring onion and ginger sauce
1 tbsp + 1 tsp champonzu (you could use a mixture of 60% light soy, 20% mirin, 10% sake and 10% lemon and lime juice at a real push...)
1 tbsp cooking oil
1 tsp chilli oil

Bring enough water to boil (as per the packet of polenta instructions) and whisk the polenta in. Add a lid half cocked and turn the heat low, and let it cook till you hear soft plop-plopping sounds. Then stir vigorously and place the lid on fully to cook for up to 10 minutes. Keep stirring so it doesn't stick to the bottom.

Meanwhile, heat the cooking oil in a non-stick pan on a medium heat. Fry the courgette sticks until they've softened, then add the cherry tomatoes and cook further until they're starting to collapse. Add the tsp of champonzu and remove from the heat.

Check on the polenta - add a large pinch of salt and keep stirring. It should be cooked at this point. Stir in the butter and miso until it has fully incorporated. Check the seasoning.

Assemble the bowls with half the polenta in each, then top with a halved soft boiled egg, the courgette and tomato mixture, the avocado, the spring onion and ginger sauce, and drizzle with chilli oil. Use the remaining tbsp of champonzu sauce to drizzle over the avocado in each.

(Got loads of miso leftover? Not sure what to do with the rest? My book, Chinatown Kitchen, has several recipes for it.)

Raw Duck, Hackney

Raw Duck is the sister to Duck Soup in Soho, which I loved - it's a great date venue, though the bill can rack up pretty easily. This one has a bit of a history - when it first opened it was located on Amhurst Road in Hackney; however, the building they were housed in had to go through an emergency demolition in November of last year. Devastating news for the owners, but they bounced back and re-opened a few months later on Richmond Road. 

Google Maps doesn't know this though, and when you type Raw Duck into the app it will direct your very flustered friend to Amhurst Road. We arrived for brunch in dribs and drabs in varying states. It was one of the hottest days of the year, and I was baffled as to how anyone could sit in the courtyard with the sun beating down on them, but they did. The inside is large and airy, tables topped with white stone towards the back, while the middle is occupied with Scandinavian-style wooden tables and chairs. A far cry from the cramped bar seat nature of its' original, the menu is also very different. Some of it we didn't understand - tropea onion? Burlat cherries? - but the drinks list intriguingly listed 'drinking vinegars' and 'morning ferments'. Unfortunately many weren't available on the day we visited, but judging by their pickle shelf (above), fermentation is very much their thing. 

'Broken eggs' (£8) turned out to be a lightly scrambled omelette, served in a cast iron skillet. Flavoured with anchovy and sage, the ingredients were of good quality and it was an inspired pairing. I couldn't stop stealing tastes of it, spooned on top of sourdough bread. 

The 'dirty bird' (£7) was a massive sandwich, stuffed full of cold roast chicken and - joy! - a sheet of perfectly crisp chicken skin. My only gripe was that the advertised 'jalapeno mayo' was actually just mayo with jalapenos on the side for you to add in yourself. I wanted them incorporated, dammit. 

The 'Reuben', also £7, suffered from sauerkraut that wasn't tart enough to cut through the richness of the pastrami and cheese. Strange for somewhere that posits fermentation as a thing. The advertised wasabi mayo was indistinguishable. 

Trombetta courgette (that's a long, thin skinny one) was served with broad beans, peas, dill, pomegranate and tahini yoghurt (£10). We had wondered if it would be a flavour explosion but our resident vegetarian enjoyed it very much, making a nice change from the usual

mushrooms / aubergine sole vegetarian offering. 

The drinks list is as interesting as Duck Soup's - unfortunately our waiter was a little short on information, and couldn't tell us what 'On ya Bicyclette' consisted of, so when we ordered it on a whim, it clashed rather horribly with our hangovers. White wine and Campari doesn't slide down easily. But an orange wine available by the glass was cider-like and refreshing, and got us back on track. On the whole, service was a bit haphazard and we had to physically flag people down and the restaurant wasn't full, but it was a minor inconvenience rather than anything major. 

If I'm in the area, I'd return for dinner as the menu evolves to include exciting things that you don't often see, like salted coconut yoghurt, Sicilian red prawns and salt cod & pea fritters - not all together, mind. It strikes me as a worthy local restaurant, though perhaps not quite special enough to be somewhere I'd undertake a two hour round trip journey from home for. 

Raw Duck

197 Richmond Road
Hackney E8 3NJ

Tel: 020 8986 6534  

Special Report: Brunching in Amsterdam

I can't say I spent much time in Amsterdam exploring all the best restaurants - I was there for King's Day. The first of its kind, previously Queen's Day, the day is to celebrate the Monarch's birthday. The people of Amsterdam take to the streets, dressed in orange. Sound systems pump out techno, others strange Dutch folk music and all day and all night the party goes on, so the following day, as you might expect, we were feeling pretty ropey. 

A refreshing 20 minute walk got us to an absolutely rammed Staring at Jacob. The waitress told us we'd be better off coming back around an hour later to seat us, which we were only happy to do; after having been told tales of the fried chicken and waffles, and now having glimpsed them wafting past on a plate, nothing else would do. We went round the corner for beers. Upon our return, I went to ask about a table and was told they were closing, having been very busy previously. My Rage Face went on. I protested, I stomped out. My rather more charming friends sidled in to try their luck, flaunting a birthday and we were seated shortly after, and told only certain items were available. 

The chef, an American guy complete with baseball cap came to take our orders and to tell us what we couldn't have. He promised to rustle me up some fried chicken. The situation was diffused. We got stuck into some prosecco cocktails. The chicken was crisply fried, the insides tender and juicy. Waffles were a little stiffer than I'd have hoped for, but I couldn't really complain. A perfectly poached egg nestled in between, and though you might think the maple syrup drizzled over it would be odd, I disagree and asked for extra syrup. It was everything I had hoped for, that I'd spent the morning tormenting my hungry self over thoughts of. 

My friend, ever the sugar fiend, ordered the french toast with bacon, and a side of pancakes. The bacon was flung to one side, discarded onto someone else's brunch and the pancakes slapped on top. A sugar lover's dream. 

All thoughts of nearly losing my shit over severe hunger-anger had dissipated, and I loved Staring at Jacob. Great staff, an excellent playlist and delicious food nursed us through our delicate time.

Staring at Jacob

Jacob van Lennepkade 215
1054 ZP Amsterdam

New York - December Edition - On the Cheap

I'm a bit of a lucky cow really; I've just spent five days in New York, my third visit of the year. This time the focus was heavily on cheap and casual with a couple of blow-outs sprinkled here and there. We brunched more too; breakfast is entirely out of the question due to being an extremely lazy person, but 11am is a manageable time.

We attempted to go to well-known brunch spot on a Saturday morning and we were greeted with about 25 people milling about outside. Waiting times can be up to 2 hours so we sacked it off and headed instead for Diner, over the river in Williamsburg. In what looked like a disused train carriage the place was packed to the rafters with cool kids sipping on bloody marys. Within 10 minutes we were seated and a delicious dish of scrambled eggs with a biscuit (aka. a savoury scone) topped with pork gravy (aka. white sauce with bits of sausage in it) ($12) kept me going till dinnertime.


We didn't give up on Clinton Street Baking Company though and came back on a weekday, as several people had proclaimed theirs to be The Best pancakes in New York. We patiently waited outside for half an hour, while my still-damp hair turned crispy with frost. We were seated snugly inside and a mountain of sugar-cured bacon, eggs with fried green tomatoes and cheesy grits ($13) warmed me up. The show stopper was indeed the wild Maine blueberry pancakes, served with a warm maple butter ($12). Sweet mother of God these were good, and worth the freezing wait we endured. Warm and fluffy inside, slightly crisp edges, punctuated with blueberries within and a mound of them on top, the maple butter drenching into the pancakes was... just... uuuunnngggg. I have no words. I need a moment alone with this memory.



Seemingly my beloved can exist on merely two meals a day - the horror - so one evening I went foraging for a snack on my own. Just a block away I came across a branch of Xi'an Famous Foods, heartily recommended by many. On St Marks Place, it was tiny; two benches faced the wall, which was plastered with the laminated menu and pictures of the dishes. As I was merely snacking, I went for Chang-an Spicy Tofu ($2) and Liang Pi Cold Skin Noodles ($4.50). Within 5 minutes I was out of there, clutching my takeaway bag.

It was pretty huge for my supposed snack and goddamn it was delicious. Slippery soft, delicate tofu was bathed in a savoury, sour broth tinged with ginger and garlic and with a slick of fiery red chilli oil. Cold skin noodles (here's an interesting Wikipedia article on how they're made) made your lips go numb with Sichuan peppercorns, while the soft pliable noodles stained all and sundry with the dressing they were doused in. I absolutely honked of garlic afterwards but I immediately wanted to go back to try everything else with another serving of tofu on the side. Alas, I ran out of time.



Later that evening, we hit Corner Bistro, reputedly New York's best burger. Famed for its queues, we arrived late and got lucky; seated in 5 minutes. The burger, loosely packed and cooked as requested, came with rashers of crispy bacon and perhaps a touch more raw onion in a huge hoop than I'd have liked, but was really very good. Pickles on the side and fries that were just like McDonalds' - which is a good thing - made me a fan. At $8-ish for the Bistro burger it was insanely good value. Value aside though, Minetta Tavern's effort pips it to the post for me.



Revelation of the trip goes to Otafuku, purveyors of takoyaki. Takoyaki are balls of batter studded with cooked octopus. I'll admit it doesn't sound particularly appealing, but when I went there to yet again another hole-in-the-wall place with barely standing room for more than 3 people and no seating, I was transfixed by a huge metal pan with spherical molds, takoyaki cooking merrily inside. You'll have the excuse the photo. I am resolutely right handed and trying to wield chopsticks and take a picture while supressing the urge to stuff them in my gob was just too much.

These reminded me of a Japanese version of Jose's ham croquetas. Crisp on the outside and light and moussey inside, these are drizzled with takoyaki sauce (whatever that might be), mayonnaise and topped with a dusting of seaweed and shavings of dried bonito. $5 for 5 I think, and after I'd finished, I only wanted more and more.



Often regarded as one of the best makers of ramen, Ippudo has a legendary reputation for enormous queues and long waiting times, all for a bowl of noodles in broth. People get seriously passionate about ramen, and while I'm only just delving into this world I am fully in love with the stuff. Which might explain why I was outside Ippudo on a Tuesday morning at 10:45am, 7th in the queue, waiting for the 11am opening time. Once inside, the space reminds me of a Busaba Eathai. Seated communally, the din is incredible. Every time someone walks in, all the staff shout a greeting in Japanese to the mostly young Asian crowd. I was in and out in 30 minutes and by the time I left, pop music was pumping and the poor hapless sod opposite me was still trying to shout business down his mobile phone, with laptop out.

The lunch deal includes any ramen plus a rice with topping and side salad for merely $3 extra. I chose the grilled eel with rice, a surprisingly generous portion. The fish was soft and tender, the rice well cooked.

The curious side of me wanted to choose their 'special' which included Parmesan cheese but I knew I'd cry if I didn't like it, so I stuck to Akamaru Modern ($14). The Tonkotsu broth is topped with miso paste, pork chashu (which is simmered pork belly, unlike the Chinese char siu), scallions and fragrant garlic oil. A soy marinated soft boiled egg (nitamago) as an extra ($2) completed the bowl. The broth was deeply porky with a hint of sweetness from the reddish miso being stirred in. This was a seriously satisfying bowl, though I'd have liked the ramen noodles a bit thicker, a bit springier. Can we have an Ippudo in London please?



New York is famous for their bagels and one morning - fine, fine, afternoon - we headed up to David's Bagels. As we joined the queue we were greeted with a stunning array of bagel types so it only made sense to go for the Everything bagel. Studded with poppy seeds, sesame, onion flavourings and the like, it was served warm filled with lox and cream cheese ($8.50). It was stunning, really, like no other bagel I've had. Soft but not pappy, it held the filling well and was a far cry from those hard dry things we get in London. Pastrami and pickle-filled bagel ($6) was equally good. I suspect it's not even the best ever, but then I don't know much about them; we were nearby, hungry and it made me happy.

273 First Avenue (1st Ave. between E 15th St. & E 16th St.)

Since my first visit when I went to Torrisi Italian Specialities, things have changed and they have opened Parm, a more casual sandwich shop next door, devoting the main place to a more restaurant-like environment. I propped myself up at the bar and had an eggplant parm, served in a sweet semolina roll. I was still reeling from my ramen brunch, otherwise I'd have gone fully for the hero, a far larger affair. With slices of soft, juicy aubergine coated in gooey cheese, tomatoey sauce and sandwiched with basil leaves, the roll was perhaps a little oversweet to my liking but otherwise it was excellent, particularly for an aubergine obsessive. The Boy, a New York resident, has been addicted to the meatball parm for many weeks now and expressed disbelief at my choice. I am beginning to wonder about it myself. At $8 its not a cheap every day lunch but it makes a happy lunch.



So there ends the cheap eats. Are you still with me?

A Mexican-Style Brunch

Lately I've been somewhat addicted to eggy brunches. Fried potatoes topped with a poached egg, flecks of chorizo littering the plate and staining the potatoes often feature. Other times it will be a mildly spiced kedgeree with a fried egg, it's yolk spilling itself, coating rice grains.

A favourite is a spicy Mexican-style brunch. Spicy tomato sauce (which, I'll confess is more often than not a leftover pasta sauce tarted up with a bit of hot smoked paprika) softens toasted corn tortillas, while creamy smoky black beans tempered the palate. A zingy guacamole was, in hindsight, an element too far. Surprisingly, it was the black beans that stole the show so here they are.

Refried Beans

Serves 2

390gr cooked black beans with the water (I used Sainsburys Organic tetrapak)
1 tsp chopped thyme
2 rashers of smoked streaky bacon
1 tsp chopped stalks of coriander
1 small white onion
3 cloves of garlic
1 chipotle chilli, or chipotle chilli flakes
1/2 tsp salt
Coriander and a wedge of lime, to garnish

In a saucepan with a little oil, add the bacon rashers, chopped finely. Fry until the fat is released and the meat takes on some colour. Dice the onion and mince the garlic and fry slowly until softened. Add the thyme and coriander stalks. Meanwhile, add the chipotle chilli flakes, or soften the chipotle chilli in hot water - if the latter, whizz in a processor and add to the pan. Add the beans with the water in the pack and then add the salt. Simmer for 40 minutes, adding more water if they're a little dry. Stir it often - it has the tendency to stick to the bottom of the pan very easily. Take off the heat and garnish with a little chopped coriander and a wedge of lime.

It freezes well in individual portions to whip out of the freezer for a quick brunch.

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.