Thursday 21 May 2009
Friday 10 April 2009
Eating Out in London on Sunday Tip #1
Thanks to everyone who read last weeks blog and commented on it, though I'll ignore the request for more porn (at least until I run out of things to say).
I realised I've eaten everywhere I can think of in Islington and Angel and I've no intention of going to a burger restaurant chain no matter how "gourmet" it claims to be and Masala Zone doesn’t give off much hope for the food if that’s the imagination they put into the name.
We eventually decided to try Exmouth Market. For those of you who don't know it's a beautiful little street just south of Saddlers Wells and it houses Moro and The Ambassador so its usually a safe bet. Both were shut and the only place open was Medcalf and there were a couple sat outside who saw us casing the menu and they insisted that the food was “really good” – that was all the push we needed.
It never ceases to amaze me how a glass of cheap bubbles is enough to get Thea acting like it’s her 16th birthday party all over again. So once that had gone down I ordered a bottle of Gavi de Gavi (if you’re reading this blog with any hope of learning anything about wine you best stop reading now). One of the great things about eating out with my girlfriend is that she never drinks much more than a glass and a bit and I chuckled to myself about the prospect of making light work of the rest.
I ordered six Irish rock oysters, devilled Cornish sprats and chips and mayo. Thea took the Jerusalem artichoke soup and the Devon crab – we ordered for it to all come at once and got stuck into mixing and matching to our hearts content.
Given my time in a professional kitchen you’d think I’d have learned a lot of cooking terminology but I was caught out on what “sprats” were and what “devilled” meant. This didn’t put me off ordering them, in fact I like ordering food that I’m unsure of (handy when travelling.) But the devilled sprats (small fish in breadcrumbs) were great – I love eating small fish whole, feeling their tiny bodies covered in lemon and salt collapsing between my teeth. It’s one of those “I’m top of the food chain moments” that I think only I have and most likely makes me sound strange. The oysters I had with them bring me onto the main point of this weeks blog:
Don’t Eat Fish on London on a Sunday.
Billingsgate Fish Market – the beating heart of fish in London isn’t open on a Sunday. This means the fish you eat will be a day old at least. Essentially you’ll miss out on the magical yet subtle hit of complete freshness that you get with same-day seafood. If your experience of fish is fish fingers and frozen horror stories of 1980’s provincial England then you might just miss it. In fact if you’re a “I don’t like fish” person – I’m amazed you’ve got the balls to go online without fear of something interesting happening to you.
I’m sure the fish’sperts amongst you can tell me you can get fresh fish everyday in London if you know where to go, but on the whole if you eat fish on a Sunday it’s most likely not been swimming that morning. Not that this put me off ordering the oysters which are the embodiment of this principle but they turned out to be okay but what’s the point of an oyster you can’t write home about?
The crab faired much better, I usually find crab a bit dull but mixed with a gob full of lemon mayo and a leafy salad I got a slap for eating too much of it. I turned my focus onto the Jerusalem Artichoke soup which was “delicate” apparently, but I thought it was a lacking the depth a hearty JA soup should have.
It sounds like the food wasn’t all that, but it was a great meal all in all and we made light work of it whilst listening to Dylan, The Band and Neil Young exclusively – I thought I’d died and gone to heaven until I offered to pay for the lot (must have been the wine)!
www.twitter.com/mrtomollerton
www.medcalfbar.co.uk
I realised I've eaten everywhere I can think of in Islington and Angel and I've no intention of going to a burger restaurant chain no matter how "gourmet" it claims to be and Masala Zone doesn’t give off much hope for the food if that’s the imagination they put into the name.
We eventually decided to try Exmouth Market. For those of you who don't know it's a beautiful little street just south of Saddlers Wells and it houses Moro and The Ambassador so its usually a safe bet. Both were shut and the only place open was Medcalf and there were a couple sat outside who saw us casing the menu and they insisted that the food was “really good” – that was all the push we needed.
It never ceases to amaze me how a glass of cheap bubbles is enough to get Thea acting like it’s her 16th birthday party all over again. So once that had gone down I ordered a bottle of Gavi de Gavi (if you’re reading this blog with any hope of learning anything about wine you best stop reading now). One of the great things about eating out with my girlfriend is that she never drinks much more than a glass and a bit and I chuckled to myself about the prospect of making light work of the rest.
I ordered six Irish rock oysters, devilled Cornish sprats and chips and mayo. Thea took the Jerusalem artichoke soup and the Devon crab – we ordered for it to all come at once and got stuck into mixing and matching to our hearts content.
Given my time in a professional kitchen you’d think I’d have learned a lot of cooking terminology but I was caught out on what “sprats” were and what “devilled” meant. This didn’t put me off ordering them, in fact I like ordering food that I’m unsure of (handy when travelling.) But the devilled sprats (small fish in breadcrumbs) were great – I love eating small fish whole, feeling their tiny bodies covered in lemon and salt collapsing between my teeth. It’s one of those “I’m top of the food chain moments” that I think only I have and most likely makes me sound strange. The oysters I had with them bring me onto the main point of this weeks blog:
Don’t Eat Fish on London on a Sunday.
Billingsgate Fish Market – the beating heart of fish in London isn’t open on a Sunday. This means the fish you eat will be a day old at least. Essentially you’ll miss out on the magical yet subtle hit of complete freshness that you get with same-day seafood. If your experience of fish is fish fingers and frozen horror stories of 1980’s provincial England then you might just miss it. In fact if you’re a “I don’t like fish” person – I’m amazed you’ve got the balls to go online without fear of something interesting happening to you.
I’m sure the fish’sperts amongst you can tell me you can get fresh fish everyday in London if you know where to go, but on the whole if you eat fish on a Sunday it’s most likely not been swimming that morning. Not that this put me off ordering the oysters which are the embodiment of this principle but they turned out to be okay but what’s the point of an oyster you can’t write home about?
The crab faired much better, I usually find crab a bit dull but mixed with a gob full of lemon mayo and a leafy salad I got a slap for eating too much of it. I turned my focus onto the Jerusalem Artichoke soup which was “delicate” apparently, but I thought it was a lacking the depth a hearty JA soup should have.
It sounds like the food wasn’t all that, but it was a great meal all in all and we made light work of it whilst listening to Dylan, The Band and Neil Young exclusively – I thought I’d died and gone to heaven until I offered to pay for the lot (must have been the wine)!
www.twitter.com/mrtomollerton
www.medcalfbar.co.uk
Thursday 9 April 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
