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ussians are big on fish roe. If you go to any Russian supermarket, you will see tens of various sorts of it ranging from lowly pike's to princely sturgeon's. Smoked capelin roe is my favourite. In Japan it is called masago and used in its plain form but Russians like everything mayonnaise-looking, so here we go.
It is very affordable, just under two euros a jar, and makes a wonderful bread spread. I like to top such a sandwich with cucumber slices for the extra crunch and fresh aroma.
ust when I thought there is no way to improve a classic, there we go I did just that!
Moules à la marinière is perhaps the most popular way to cook mussels: after all, who knows how to do it better than the fishermen (les marinières )! The basic recipe guarantees best results and seems wanting no improvement.
However, after years of sticking to the authentic recipe, I have discovered the added twist of fresh Florence fennel. It gives the molluscs a warm, faintly anisey aroma. And the fragrant broth at the bottom of the pot is to die for!
- Wash 2 kg mussels in running water. Remove the remaining beards, if necessary.
- Melt 50 g unsalted butter in a mussels pot (you can use any other type of pot but then it would be like drinking wine out of a tea mug!).
- I give it a generous dash of freshly ground black pepper at this point for the sake of intensity but this is optional. It's just that my pleasure threshold is somewhat high, I need more stimulation.
- As mussels are naturally salty, you will need not add any salt.
- Sweat one stalk of leek, thinly sliced and half a Florence fennel, thinly sliced, with (optional) one carrot, peeled and thinly sliced .
- Add the mussels and cook them on medium heat, stirring periodically.
- When the mussels start opening add a cup of white wine.
- Once all mussels are open it's time to serve!
Pommes frites are the traditional side dish for mussles but I never used those. It is the 21st century and we should know better than deep-fried food! I make low-fat oven-baked potato chips myself. The delish brown colour comes from a wee dab of French Caribbean liquid cane sugar, normally used for rhum-based cocktails. A sprinkle of herbes de Provence gives a herby tone, while a piece of charcoal in the oven ensures an appetizing smoky scent.
As it goes, moules frites are best accompanied by good friends and a bottle of white.
hai food can be a huge hit-or-miss. The tricky thing is that sometimes Thai restaurants are run by people who became cooks because they couldn't find any other job, just like Russian police. Another trap is eateries where the grub is watered down to suit the local punters' tastes. In such establishments, tom kha tends to lean towards the taste properties of leek soup. In a very popular Thai takeaway in Amsterdam's Jordaan, coconut milk was completely abandoned in favour of cow's milk. Every dish there featured chopped bell peppers and bean sprouts, the essential ingredient of "Oriental veg mix" in every Dutch supermarket.
When Barry recommended me a great pub with Thai food in Holborn, my reaction was more along the "Duh?" lines. Sure he knows a great chippie in the area but to buy kaeng khiao waan on a white-haired Englishman's advice? I sure know better than that!
The only reason why I ended up there was because Jen, Patricia and Ian dragged me there. See, we had an assignment to work out a cross-cultural awareness training in the course of lunch, so I simply had no choice but to succumb to the majority of my team.
And, boy, weren't I glad! It turned out to be the best green curry since Thailand. Rich and unctuous coconut broth sweet from burapha (Thai holy basil) and flavourful from kaffir lime leaves coupled with jasmine rice cooked to perfection. As it is after all a pub, you need to order at the bar, so don't sit around waiting for your order to be taken, it won't happen.
Pro's: As authentic tasting Thai food as it gets in London.
Con's: Can get drafty if you sit next to the back door, which the waiters use to bring food from the kitchen.
In a nutshell: A great place to have Thai lunch in Holborn.
Brown Sugar Pub, 146 High Holborn, Holborn, London, WC1
++++++
Thai language school and translation agency in Bangkok, Thailand offering Thai, Chinese, English, Japanese, Russian and Laotian (Lao, Isarn, Isaan) language courses.
ot bean sauce" just does not cut it for me. It sounds bland and unimaginative. Toubanjan is the name. It tastes just like its name: "Thud-bang-shhhaaa!!!" Your mouth stays widely gaping at this very open "a", while you are dashing around looking for some water to douse the fire.
I came across it in my student years in Japan and I call it by its Japanese name. However, this mighty sensual assault on your taste buds was invented in China's Southwest, Szechuan, as dou-ban-jiang (豆瓣酱).
There are two types of it: plain and spicy. I am no big fan of the plain version (it is just smelly and salty), but the spicy one la-dou-ban-jiang (辣豆瓣酱) is one of my favourite condiments. It is indispensable in mapo dofu (麻婆豆腐), the Szechuan numbingly hot toufu, mince and aubergine stew, as well as dandan noodles (擔擔麵). I also like to top steamed rice with it when I am going through a cook's block. It works superbly plain as dressing for avocado.
Korean gochujang looks and tastes somewhat similar to it but had a different flavour because in Korea they use ground sticky rice instead of beans and the fermenting process is different.
nown in the past as Jew's ear, these days it is safer to call it kikurage (キクラゲ) by its Japanese name. Its alternative name, jelly ear, is not very widely recognised, while the Latin name, Auricularia auricula-judae, is too cumbersome. The Chinese name hei mu er (黑木耳) will hardly ever catch on, will it?
Once I had to ask Floyd to buy it for me in a Chinese shop. None of the names seemed to work although hei mu er proved outside Floyd's linguistic abilities. Finally, he gave up on seeking help from the shop's people and, after quite an effort, managed to locate it himself. The bag said "Black Fungus".
Kikurage is sold dry in most Asian stores. It expands a lot when soaked in water (takes about 30 minutes). The pictures below is the same mushroom as above before soaking! It has a faint earthy flavour and gently crunchy, agaric texture for which it is mostly prized. I don't know what kind of coincidence it is, but kikurage is only popular in the traditionally Confucian countries - Japan, Korea, China, Taiwan and Vietnam. It is not particularly click with the rest of Asia.
In traditional Chinese medicine hei mu er is believed to possess anti-thrombosis properties, that is, it de-clogs your arteries and veins. By extension, it is believed to promote longevity. Polysaccharides that it contains have a tumour-preventive effect.
I use it in a variety of dishes: from sashimi (it is one of the few mushrooms you can eat raw) to noodles and sweet-and-sour chicken. It does not need much cooking and can be added just a couple of minutes before the dish is ready.
he dining rooms at the Victoria & Albert Museum were the first of the kind in the world. Nobody before had come up with the idea of having refreshments in a museum. To that end, there were designed three spaces: Elizabethan Green, Renaissance Centre and tiled Grill. They managed to survive the Blitz bombardments so what you get to see there is all original. Pay heed to the intricate stained glass windows exhaling the virtues of arts and crafts.
In the Victorian times, one would make do with sipping daintily on lemonade but these days you can get a full-blown meal here. And not shabby at that, as it turned out.
There are a few food stations in the airy hallway outside the rooms: sandwiches & salads, Italian, dessert, drinks and what is normally called "international", i.e., bastardised variations of French classics. We decided not to bother with lightweights from the Apennines or breads with fillings and went beeline straight for goldie oldies.
As we were in for a long day of meandering through the never-ending halls of the museum, we went for two legs: lamb's for Floyd and duck's for me. Floyd's order was oven-roasted and rosemary and garlic flavoured, and so was mine was. The difference was that the lamb was accompanied by a blob of mint sauce (far too sharp to my liking and a tad sourish on top of that), the duck was served with a piece of lovely sage stuffing. Both were served with the only choice of sides: roasted potatoes and English boiled veg. That's how you make French food "international", by stripping the finer extras.
As always, we shared our plates to be able to exchange opinions. Even Floyd, who notoriously does not usually have a good word for restaurant cooking, this time appeared content. Simplified editions as they were, both dishes tasted the way they should. No less, no more. The lamb has some fat chunks (the assistant at the counter refused to change it for a leaner piece), but well at least that is a proof the animal had been fed well.
Pro's: The atmosphere of "period" dining.
Con's: Smells like a school canteen. (Did Victorians know of air fresheners?)
In a nutshell: Robust quality classics in authentic Victorian interiors.
all it a commercial concoction, I don't care! This Caribbean infusion is made by Lipton and, as it goes, I have never seen it on sale outside France. It has a corruptingly sweet, tropical smell yet there is not a wee dram o' sugar in it.
They brand it as "hibiscus and papaya flavoured" but it also contains orange blossoms, lemon grass, orange rind, licorice and rose petals. Quite a mix, innit?
If I have any left over (hardly ever, truth be told), I add liquid cane sugar and cool it in the fridge. Served with ice on a hot day, it is superbly delectable.
oo much sweet can be too much. That's why the French invented the assiette de fromages. It is a grown-up way to finish dinners: not with some puerile sugar-laden confection but something decadently smelly, as if showing that pleasure still could be found somewhere close to repulsion.
It is also one of the few classy, luxury pleasures that vegetarians can indulge in. In my vegetarian days, I would have rewarded myself for my well-intentioned suffering through soya steaks, Tofurkey and fishless sushi with a glass of nice wine and a cheese platter.
Tonight cheeses from three different regions had a nice get-together on my plate: Burgundian Chaource, Bleu d'Auvergne, and Tommette de Savoie. They all are very different.
Chaource tastes like Brie made from goat's milk although with just a hint of sharpness as it is, in fact, made from cow's milk. It is pristinely white and could be very well from the Loire Valley. But it isn't.
Bleu d'Auvergne is, perhaps, the least aggressive of all blue cheeses. It tastes as if it didn't want to be one. Its mild, creamy and not at all as salty as, say, Rocquefort.
Tommette de Savoie is hard and nutty. You would be if you came from the mountains too. It smells funny because water is scarce in the Alps but it makes good for that in the taste department. I have never seen it on sale outside France. The hardy montagnard just won't take to travelling!
ruly, truly, one man's food, another man's poison. I remember how I scared my Moscow friends when I brought a bag of bean sprouts to fix some Chinese food for them. They decided they were in for a feast of creepy Asian worms.
Bean sprouts are widely used in Pacific Asian cuisines. They are known as moyashi (もやし) in Japan, dou ya (豆芽) in China, kongnamul (콩나물
) in Korea, tauge in Indonesia (and Holland), thua ngok (ถั่วงอก) in Thailand. In Iran, they are traditionally prepared for the New Year's festival Navrooz. There they symbolize the power of new life.
In Thailand, folk wisdom has it that bean sprouts, when consumed raw, increase sexual drive. It come as no surprise if you consider all the life energy of enzymes and vitamines of freshly sprouting seeds!
I use them for a number of dishes: from Indonesian gado-gado to Chinese mapo-dofu. I can chew them raw much to the consternation of my friends. But I don't mind as it defo gives me a huge perk once in between the sheets! +wink wink+
he Japanese custom of hanami, enjoying the beauty of cherry blossoms, came about under the influence of China's refined Tang Dynasty in the 8th century AD. It originated as a sacred ritual for the imperial court: Shinto priests would offer sake to sakuras so as to divinate the new year's harvest.
Before too soon, the Japanese figured out that pouring sake on trees was a waste and that is how gastronomy replaced religion. By the 12th century the custom of having meals under blossoming cherry trees spread to all the walks of life of the Japanese society.
There is a philosophical meaning attached to this pastime: the empirical observation of the transience of youth and beauty allegorised by the cherry blossoming lasting but a couple of weeks a year. However, as the laconic Japanese saying goes "Hana yori dango", "Dumplings before flowers", that is, "To hell with blossoming spring flora, let's tuck it away!"
This week Victoria and Ekaterina came to visit me from Moscow. We had planned a picnic since a while ago but were very unsure about the weather. Luckily, today turned out a glorious day. We bought our Japanese grub at Rice and Wine Shop and Kulu Kulu Sushi on Brewer Street and moseyed on over to St. James's Park.
There is no set menu for hanami. Perhaps, the only seasonal entry would be hanami-dango: a skewered trio of rice flour dumplings with sweet red bean filling. For our picnic we had:
- miso-shiru;
- a big order of nigiri-zushi;
- o-nigiri: nori-wrapped rice dumplings with various savoury fillings;
- chuuka-wakame: shredded seaweed salad with Chinese sesame dressing;
- loads of edamame, soybeans in the pod;
- boiled spinach in peanut sauce, certainly a newcomer to the Japanese diet, yet none the less enjoyable
- hanami-dango and Japanese green tea to polish them off with.
All this Oriental exuberance set us back mere 38 pounds for three. Not shabby at all for Central London, is it?My Moscow banker girls also indulged in a bottle of Australian semillon. The wine got them in a very cheerful mood and we went on to gorge on some very nice cake from Patisserie Valerie on Piccadilly Street. A hunky Turkmen guy in the Prêt-a-Manger next door supplied us with free coffee (thanks to our ladies' charm) and we finished our dessert just on time to catch our Handel's Royal Fireworks Music at St. Martin-in-the-Fields.
I had spent about a month looking for best hanami spots in London. Although there are a lot of cherry trees in the city,only a few locations are suitable for picnics. Email me for a list!
It is quite funny to recall just how much negativity I experienced when trying to put together a hanami event in London. I failed to interest a single Japanese person. My guess that there are two types of Japanese in this city. First, those who came here out of their will tend to distance themselves from their native culture: they would rather go to a pub than eat sushi in a park. Second, expats who were sent here and who are way too busy for anything else but sleeping it out after a week of hard labour.
I have also noticed that the Japanese are very sceptical about the non-Japanese being able to appreciate the finer aspects of their culture. Truth be told, to an extent it has proved true. However, luckily for me, Victoria and Ekaterina overwhelmed me with their enthusiasm for the whole undertaking. It is to their pro-active curiosity and positive energy that I owe most of the success of my first hanami picnic in London.
he Portuguese are famed seafarers. They kicked off the Age of Discovery, found the way to India around Africa, circumvented the earth and spread the Portuguese genetic pool all across the globe.
Perhaps it is down to all those centuries spent in the sea that Portuguese food contains so much salt. Or so it was in O Cantinho do Portugal, an unpretentious cafe-like restaurant in Brixton's Little Portugal on Stockwell Road.
I had seen the place packed with the local Portuguese at any given time of the day and that is why I had no doubts about entering its rather unattractive pastel green interior in search for authentic Lusitanian grub.
The grilled goat shoulder I fancied was not available so I went for goat stewed in white wine. Floyd opted for seafood and rice, which turned out a soggy paella although not without its charms: the seafood was fresh and abundant and the rice was the right kind of paella rice. My goat came in equally satisfying quantities, garnished with boiled potatoes and wee bits of broccoli and cauliflower. The rustic earthenware dishes in which our dinner arrived were lovely.
Simple and nice stuff as it all was, probably half its chemical composition was pure unadulterated salt. In bewilderment, I was watching Portuguese families around me gleefully working on their plates. Surely, their food came from the same kitchen, so this salt level must be normal for them!
We went through our meal with the help of a jug of water. By the end of it we were so bloated we did not feel like dessert at all. Oh, just as well.
Pro's: Apparently, as authentically Portuguese as it gets.
Con's: Industrial quantities of NaCl. A bit depressing interior. Beware: olives and bread served before you order are not complimentary.
In a nutshell: Good for a one-off visit on your quest to try as many world cuisines as possible.
ou won't hear me (or anyone else for that matter) raving about Dutch food. The typical Northern European fare is, if put it charitably, unexciting. However, like in every dung heap (really?) there are a few pearls.
Groninger koek is one of those. Hailing from the Northern province of Groningen, it is made from rye flour, spices and bits of candied fruit. The Dutch usually will have a slice for breakfast with a cup of coffee. I can eat it any time of the day. In fact, I like it so much that I even bother my friends who come to visit from Amsterdam bring a couple for me.
oday I committed adultery. All my adult life I was a Kikkoman man. Kikkoman is one of world's most popular and definitely best marketed brand of shoyu, the Japanese soya sauce. You will hardly ever see me declaring my allegiance to brands but in this case I am not ashamed. Kikkoman delivers a superbly manufactured condiment. Its shoyu can be compared to a wine, as it is brewed and contains 0.5% alcohol. You can smell an unmistakeable whiff of alcohol from a freshly opened bottle. (The first character in the Japanese word shoyu (醤) signifies that it is a kind of alcohol.)But today I went astray. I saw a Yamasa brand shoyu in Wine and Rice Shop on Brewer Street at almost half the price. The shop assistant kindly explained that in fact Yamasa brand has a better pedigree (由緒正しい) as it was established in 1645 as opposed to Kikkoman's 1917. A longer noble line at half the price, how could I resist that?Yamasa's shoyu turned out to be good quality with a bit drier taste and less heady aroma. I am not sure that I will keep buying it because I think I do miss Kikkoman's delightfully rankish flavour.
very national cuisine has great ways to deal with yesterday's leftovers. In Italy they top pizza, the British "devil" them, in Japan cold rice is made into a flavourful breakfast called chazuke, or to sound daintier, o-chazuke.
sometimes think how I would contact Chinese export companies and offer my services in developing (or just using) proper English names for Chinese food ingredients. After all it's all about, in my friend Yasmin's words, "branding, branding and once again branding". Give something weird and unknown an attractive name and watch it sell like hot pies.
s it always go with me, an innocent trip to buy some sesame seeds ended up with me walking away with 4 bags of foodstuffs. Such is Brixton Market, a serendipity outlet where you never know what you are in for.
The spinach they sell at the market is more robust and has a stronger, faintly bitterish taste than what you get in supermarkets.
ou won't hear me (or anyone else for that matter) raving about Dutch food. The typical Northern European fare is, if put it charitably, unexciting. However, like in every dung heap (really?) there are a few pearls.
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