The Ethicurean, near Bristol

I'll admit, I raised an eyebrow at the wankily worded website and I'm glad I swept my cynicism aside, because The Ethicurean is a lovely place. We lucked out with a sunny Sunday lunch booking and took full advantage of the walled gardens the restaurant is set in, where they grow vegetables and herbs for the kitchen. We sat outside, basking in April sunshine, occasionally batting a wasp or two away, while the rest of the picnic benches slowly filled up.

The menu is, to my mind, modern British with a twist. Most dishes seem to have some sort of pickled element, and although I was drawn to 'Variations of garlic soup: cultivated, wild & fermented', the idea of goat bacon was too tempting to pass up. Especially 'goat bacon, burnt chicory, pickled root, apple balsamic, coriander crackling, jerk oil & parsley ferment'. This was not a pithy menu, but rather ingredient-heavy, a listing of parts.

My dish arrived on an enormous plate, a pretty pile of vegetables centre stage. Goat bacon tasted of lamb, slightly salty and tender. Bitter slivers of chicory blushed pink on the plate, tempered by a sweet onion jam. Sharp bursts of a pickled root (I'm not sure what) completed the sweet, bitter and savoury balances, though I couldn't taste much jerk in the oil. I'm not sure I missed it much.

Ham hock broth with a poached egg was perfectly clear and poured table-side. Any notion that perhaps soup wasn't fitting for the weather was put to one side; with the rainbow chard, lovage 'crackling' and parsley, it was Spring in a bowl.

Then, we waited. We waited and waited and waited. Perhaps if we had a bottle of wine to while away the time over, and we didn't have anywhere to be, we might have been ok. But we sipped on our fizzy elderflowers and was tapped our feet impatiently, glancing furtively at the door to the garden. Almost 45 minutes later, our mains arrived.

My 'butter-poached pollack with nettle, fondant potato, purple sprouting broccoli, pickled samphire, squid ink & fondant potato' was another pretty dish. The poached fish was firm and pearlescent, the meat flaking away densely. I had expected it to be very rich due to its poaching liquor, but instead the dish was light and bright. The vibrant green nettle sauce and the black squid ink gave the (again enormous) plate some drama, while incredibly brittle fish skin shards, the best kind of fishy crisps, gave a little texture contrast. The potato was sweet and fudgy, crisp on the outside, and I wished for more. I loved this dish very much. A side dish of sauerkraut (have I mentioned I love pickles?) had the tang of lactic fermentation, a method of pickling that uses the natural bacteria in the vegetable to preserve, rather than the quick-fix of vinegar. 

Somerset goat came in the form of meatballs and a cylinder of slow-cooked meat. The spheres were shot through with herbs, fork-tender yet sturdy. Rainbow chard, pickled pear and artichoke crisps made up the vegetable components, while burnt onion and apple balsamic sauced the dish. We neglected any carby sides and this was the perfect size for lunch in the sunshine. 

So obviously we wanted dessert. The Montezuma brownie with salt and pepper ganache was as decadent as it sounds. A crisp, sugary crust gave way to an almost-liquid inside of obviously high-quality chocolate. The scoop of malted barley ice cream we ordered seperately suited it so perfectly I wondered why they weren't served together. Though I couldn't taste any pepper in the ganache, its saltiness was just the right foil against the sweetness of the brownie. I fail to remember what the orange blobs are. 

After having spent just under 2.5 hours having lunch, we were keen to get going so we paid the not insubstantial (£70 for 2, booze-less) bill inside, where we could get someone's attention. The waiting staff were nice enough when they were around, but the restaurant was full and they were hard to find. No real harm done, but had the service been on top form, it would have been a damn near perfect lunch.  

The Ethicurean
Barley Wood Walled Garden
Long Lane
Wrington
Bristol
BS40 5SA

01934 863713
info@theethicurean.com

Bubbas, Tulse Hill

I really wanted Bubbas in Tulse Hill, styled as a fine dining Caribbean restaurant, to blow me away but warning bells rang on the approach. There was a lot of blue neon shining out of those windows. For the most part, I did like it - the food was well spiced and had flavour so there was obviously some talent in the kitchen in the form of their Michelin-trained chef. But it was all the fripperies that made me cringe; things served in kilner jars are cute to a certain extent, but when everyone round the table (of 5) has one, it becomes a bit of a cheesy gimmick.


Fried prawn and okra balls were served with a pretty orange smear and presented on an awkwardly shaped plate. The sliminess of the okra shone through - I am a huge fan of slime - and it was served with a delicious sweet and sour sauce, once you can dig it out of its jar.

Elsewhere on the table, huge prawns made us all gasp and were meatily delicious, coated in a rum glaze and having a hint of the scotch bonnet fruitiness. Jerk chicken lollipops were decently spiced (top photo) and the jerk ketchup it was served with had some serious kick. We scooped the remnants of the sauce jar with our fingers.

Onto mains, and I shunned menu items like Red Stripe battered fish with sweet potato chips for a more traditional stewed oxtail. This was served with a potato galette and dumpling. Without much sauce with the deboned oxtail meat, this was a little dry but the potato, meat and earthiness of the beetroot smear worked well together and I finished it without much effort.

Goat curry was served in a 'rose tuile', essentially a basket made of thin pastry that was all about presentation rather than flavour. My friend awkwardly smashed it apart, revealing well spiced but otherwise unremarkable curry. The blue neon light really did a number with that photo; the rest were rescuable with the genius of Lightroom, but there was no saving that one.

We declined desserts opting instead for the pub. I found the experience (bar the company) oddly joyless, something I don't associate with Caribbean food. Usually a splash of colour and flavour, the lighting within the restaurant didn't do much to help it. At around £10 - £15 per main course, the food isn't likely to bankrupt you but I've taken more delight from eating jerk pork out of a silver takeaway box on a plastic-topped table in a cafe for half the price. Still, it is refreshing to see a Caribbean restaurant go beyond your usual brown stew chicken, curry goat and jerk options.

While the waiting staff were sweet and helpful, they seemed uncomfortable with their starched whites and formal uniform, and the food somehow seemed that way too. Although flavoursome and ultimately satisfying, the styling was overdone and fussy. We were invited to the restaurant on only its' second day of opening, so hopefully the presentation of the dishes will relax as it beds in. But seriously. Lose the neon.

Bubbas

7A Station Rise

Tulse Hill

London SE27 9BW

We were guests of the restaurant.

Quo Vadis, Soho

Jeremy Lee's new position as head chef at the newly refurbished Quo Vadis has been all the talk recently. Previously at Blueprint Cafe, he moved just after Christmas. Reports came in with rapt admiration of his simple, pared down cooking in plusher surroundings.

I received an invitation to dinner there with Wine Chap and others to celebrate the new chef appointment, an offer you'd be mad to refuse. I've only been to Quo Vadis in casual circumstances - a drink in the bar, or a plate of oysters before moving on - so I don't really have any point of comparison. They make a mean martini though, and snacks of salsify baked and sprinkled with a strong, sharp cheese (£3.50) reinforced my thoughts that salsify is a vehicle, not much of a flavour in its own right but a great texture nonetheless for delivering delicious cheese into my face.

Most talked about on the new menu is the smoked eel and horseradish sandwich (£6.50). Plump juicy rounds of dense meat is served in between toasted slices of bread, spread liberally with creamy horseradish.

Vibrantly pink pickled onions had just the right sharpness to counteract the delicately smoked, richly flavoured flesh. The horseradish packed such a nose-clearing punch that I got a momentary mustard head - you know, when your sinuses burn and sting and you're rendered speechless. It's quite addictive, that. Anyway, it was an absolutely smashing sandwich. I was only sad that I had to share it.

Bloater paste (£4) was rather too strongly flavoured for me, but I absolutely loved the smooth anchovy paste, more like a mayonnaise and served with a sweet brioche bun for dunking.

Salted mallard (£6) salad was really gamey. I'm not usually a fan of game and my nose wrinkled, but when paired with the peppery watercress and the prune compote it was far mellower with the sweetness of the fruit balancing out the strong flavour.

The pescetarian on the table got a dish that made us all laugh at its sparsity. What we originally thought was celery turned out to be sea kale (£8.50), cooked to just tender and bathed in a gloriously lemon-yellow butter sauce. It may not look like much but the delicate flavours were perfectly balanced, the sauce decadent.

The main event arrived to gasps around the table. A roasted shoulder of kid was large and resplendent. Meat was pulled off the bones and dished onto plates along with creamy tender white beans in a green herby sauce. The meat was tender and not dissimilar in flavour to lamb. Courgettes were roasted with whole onions, their moisture releasing and creating its' own juice. These were no fancy plates, but decent, hearty stuff of which Lee is well known for. He came out to our table to greet us and others in the room, oozing enthusiasm and charm that was already evident from his twitter stream.

A cheese course arrived but I was too stuffed to attack it with much fervour, and just a nibble of Stichelton on an oatcake did me. Desserts were numerous and plenty, ranging from rhubarb compote to a fudgy chocolate cake. Pick of the bunch was this fruity number. I'm afraid that even the day after I've forgotten what it is. Rather than a reflection on the dish, I suspect the cocktails must've caught up with me.

We hauled ourselves back up to the bar and smashed back a few more martinis. I called it a night after we'd sang a rousing number of Hey Jude while one of our party tinkled it on the resident piano; it was home time.

I left Quo Vadis feeling like I'd had a big hug. The food was a mixture of eye popping (that eel sandwich) and comforting (those herby beans). We did a fair bit of gawping too, at not only Ralph Fiennes dining there but also Fergus Henderson. At prices that are completely reasonable, not something I'd previously associate Quo Vadis with, I will be back there soon.

Quo Vadis

26 - 29 Dean Street

London W1D 3LL

Tel: 020 7437 9585

More photos from the night are HERE. I dined as a guest of Quo Vadis and Wine Chap.

Goat & Spinach Curry

I like to keep myself busy. After having cooked most of the Christmas food for the family, I invited 10 friends round for dinner just before New Year. I decided that after all the roasted meats, potatoes and vegetables associated with Christmas, a selection of curries would be fitting to waken up those tastebuds a bit. And so, there commenced 2 days of chopping onions, mincing garlic and ginger, pestle and mortaring spices. I swear I have biceps like Madonna now after all that.

One of the favourite dishes of the night was this goat and spinach curry. I adapted it from a Rick Stein recipe and although I was suspicious of the amount of spices used, it worked a treat. I made it the day before (but didn't add the spinach puree until just before serving) for all the flavours to amalgamate overnight.

The finished result looks a bit like sludge, but is rich, gamey, and full of flavour. The meat was tender and fell off the bone. I added some cubed lamb neck fillet to bulk it out, but this isn't necessary if you have particularly meaty goat pieces.

Goat & Spinach Curry

Serves 6 (or 11 as part of a 5 dish spread)

1 kg of bone-in goat shoulder chopped in chunks
500gr lamb neck fillet (optional)
1/2 a head of garlic
50gr ginger
6 medium onions
2 tsp salt
1 tbsp tumeric
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tsp red chilli powder (optional)
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp garam masala
1 can of chopped tomatoes
4 green chillis
2 large bunches of spinach
200ml water
2 tbsp chopped fresh coriander
3 tbsp oil

Slice the onions and cook in a pan with the oil slowly, until light brown for about 20 minutes. Put the tomatoes, chilli powder if using, onions, garlic and ginger in a blender and blend until smooth. Add the fried onions and blend again. Return the puree into a large saucepan and add the goat and the salt. Simmer for 40 minutes, then add all the spices except the garam masala. Split the green chillis in half, deseed them and throw them in. Simmer slowly for at least 2 hours. If you're using the lamb neck fillet, add it in at this point and simmer for another hour. If the sauce is looking too thick, add a little water. Skim any fat floating on the surface off.

Meanwhile, steam the spinach until just cooked. Blend into a puree with a little water. When the goat is cooked, stir the spinach into the curry with the garam masala, simmer for a minute and serve, sprinkling the fresh coriander on top.

I served this with this red onion and pomegranate salad, rice and cucumber raita.