Fasting leads to chocolate feasting!

Forty days may be a long time to be in the desert but with the shops already full of tempting treats it feels like an even longer time to be without chocolate. Since Pancake Day, dedicated cocoa abstainers seem to be everywhere, forfeiting their favourite bar, truffles, buttons and brownies for the lengthy days of Lent.

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Secret dining with the Saltoun Supper Club

Secret dining is more than just supper in somebody’s sitting room...

Getting to this secret eatery in South London is something of a treasure hunt in itself. It began with the excitement of securing a booking and continued as we were drip fed enticing nuggets of information as the date drew ever closer, until just a few hours before supper when the location was finally divulged. The adventure continued as we surreptitiously sidled down a quiet residential street wondering who else was in on our secret and what on earth would greet us when we got there.

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Duck Liver Salad

Having my card declined in the local butcher was the pretty embarrassing tipping point which has since prompted a rethink of my food shopping habits. It seems that if prices continue their ever uphill march I will soon be grouping many previously affordable staples in the luxury category along with precious saffron and caviar.

Not wanting to test the worn plastic of my card on lamb fillets, steak or even a chicken I looked at ingredients I usually bypass. While both lamb and calves liver can be a minefield of unpleasant textures if not prepared or cooked properly, the same of a duck or chicken are more straightforward, delicious and importantly won’t break the bank. In a supermarket you can pick up enough for four people as a starter for less than £3 and in a few minutes turn them into a paté with just butter, brandy and garlic. It seems that in these tight times all sorts of offal is becoming more popular.

Or pan fry them and add them to a salad or pile on top of toast.


Duck Liver Salad (serves four as a starter, two as a main)

400g duck livers
150-200g salad leaves (baby spinach and lambs lettuce are ideal)
1 heaped tsp dijon mustard
4 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp red wine
salt and pepper
oil and butter for frying

Trim the livers of any obvious gristle or veins with a sharp knife and cut them in half or thirds to make chunks of roughly the same size.

Heat a little oil and butter in a heavy based frying pan until almost smoking. Fry the livers in batches for about a minute on each side, until sealed and browned, removing them to a warm plate and adding a little more oil and butter in between batches if needed.

Return all of the livers to the hot pan and add the red wine, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan. Add the balsamic vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper and simmer for a couple of minutes with a lid.

Dress the spinach and lettuce leaves with a little olive oil and lemon juice in a large bowl and then arrange on four plates. Allow the livers to rest for a few minutes, check the seasoning and then spoon on top of the salad, drizzling with the balsamic sauce.

Either serve as it is or with slices of crusty bread or toast.

Monachyle Mhor

Driving through a meandering Trossachs valley in central Scotland last weekend we started to wonder what would greet us as the winding road narrowed and civilisation faded away. The mirrored watery surface of Loch Voil reflected it’s steep mountainous sides and bright blue skies in mesmeric perfection as we hungrily sped towards our lunch destination, the Monachyle Mhor Hotel.

A family farm and estate since the eighties there has been hospitality on this site for years. Now under the helm of three siblings a small empire has emerged with fifteen bedrooms, a restaurant, farm and two shops in the local town of Callander.

A herd of Tamworth pigs provide pork for the business while devouring the vegetable waste from the kitchen. Eggs come from farmyard chickens and venison from estate deer. Mhor’s website depicts the dream of self sufficient business and having heard so much we were keen to see the results.

Greeted by a friendly border collie and similarly welcoming waitress we sat down at our table, set with colourful discs of Limoges crockery, and gazed through the windows onto the autumnal hillside. From this spot the view became more idyllic with each glance as the dappled afternoon light cast itself over the valley.

The short menu made for easy ordering and our concern over the rich ingredients was short lived.

To start, a frothy rich potato mousse flecked with truffle encircled a perfectly soft egg presumably plucked from underneath one of the chickens clucking not far away. The attention grabbing presentation made the unusual texture and distinctive flavour of the mousse all the more memorable.

And next an equally pretty plate of pigs cheek tortellini, tender monkfish tail, apple and sage sauce. My father had meltingly tender guinea fowl shaped into perfect cylindrical discs and served with wild mushrooms and foie gras.

The food was tantalising, making us wonder at the technical composition of the dishes and admire the combination of such strong flavours which produced such a subtle and balanced result.

By the time we finished with a simple cafetiere and perfectly made tablet our reservations over the hefty price tags had left us. Mhor is not cheap but it is worth the pennies to experience this magical example of all that can be made of Scotland’s ingredients.

Driving back through Callander we stopped at their well stocked bakery and picked up crumbly sweet bannocks and wholemeal bread from another happy Mhor employee. Our breakfast at home was all the better for it, the Mhor baking easily matches up to the standard in their restaurant.


Monachyle Mhor Hotel
Balquhidder
Lochearnhead
Perthshire
FK19 8PQ
01877 384 622
http://www.mhor.net/

Del'aziz

I feel I have made a profound discovery this weekend, probably starkly obvious to the rest of the world: communal dining works but only for grown ups. It does not work when a deli floor is turned into a nursery complete with mini tricycles, when open bottles of maple syrup are substituted for rattles, when scrambled eggs become ammunition for fork catapults or when milk filled straws are used as water guns to fire upon slightly hungover and completely off-guard occupants of your table.

On Saturday, having hurdled over a few small children to take up position at one of the large wooden tables in the Fulham branch of Del’aziz, I had almost begun to relax into my surroundings when a cold splatter of milk landed on my right cheek. As I turned I was confronted with a very satisfied three year old brandishing a dairy laden straw while his proud parent smiled benevolently on.

In the last few years communal dining has been reinvigorated, creeping across the capital in a range of eateries such as Ottelenghi, La Fromagerie and Wagammas. But embarking on a meal with strangers at your side in any one of these places you can probably assume you have one thing in common with your fellow diners; that you have all learnt the fine art of transporting food from plate to mouth without showering each other with it.

Kids aside, this Mediterranean brasserie and deli, is a pretty smart act. The stacks of oversized cakes lining the window will have your mouth watering before you’ve glimpsed the menu and are available by the slice, whole or bespoke. They are magnificent creations, the kind that would make you hesitate with guilt before breaking a knife into the carefully crafted layers of chocolate, sponge and cream.


Dark wooden shelves line the walls and are adorned with all sorts of edible and non-edible wares from Moroccan crockery to olive oil, authentic spices such as sumac and harissa or Turkish delight and baklava. Sadly, lazily foraging the shelves isn’t comfortable for diner or shopper as the tables are close to the walls and waiters continuously scuttle through the gaps.

The brunch menu makes a refreshing break from the standard formula which has been adopted by so many bistros. Yes, scrambled eggs are on the menu but come with home cured gravadlax or piled onto confit Portobello mushrooms. Moroccan muffins replace the traditional plain version and tender white beans accompany the vegetarian breakfast as a welcome replacement to Heinz.

My berber pancakes, thick spongier versions of their American cousins, arrived dusted with flaked almonds and drizzled with fragrant honey. A generous trio of these comfortingly sweet cakes were accompanied by a fruit salad, the tartness of which provided perfect contrast to the runny honey.

The Eggs Royale could not have been better and we are hard to impress on this front, so often the results are disappointing. Aziz presented perfectly poached eggs, tasty salmon, tangy hollandaise and a herby muffin base all topped beautifully with two slender chives.

As we ate, a sizzling pan passed by us, landed in front of our neighbours and generated envy in spite of our own delicious choices. The aptly named ‘Frying Pan’ is gluttonously filled with chorizo, peppers, bacon, potatoes, cheese and eggs and produced a satisfied smile from the other side of the table.

The mint tea is made with plenty of the fresh herb, the coffee strong and full of flavour and the smoothies, although expensive are packed with fruit. There is a lot left to try on the brunch menu alone and this is without turning the page to the huge range of mezze served after midday. Quite amazingly, considering the fast pace, loud noise and multiple functions of the venue, the staff remain calm and the service quick.

If you can block out the ghoulish wailing of multiple toddlers and the ineffective protests from their bewildered parents, which together combine to create a less than harmonious buzz in Del’aziz, then you are in for a feast.

Del’aziz
24-32 Vanston Place
London
SW6 1AX
020 7386 0086
http://www.delaziz.co.uk/

I've become a breakfast buff

I can’t think of a more idyllic way to wake up to the world than to spend an hour lazily lingering over snow white poached eggs with rich orange yolks that burst satisfyingly under your fork or buttery croissants dunked in bowl sized cups of café-au-lait.

Watching office-bound commuters scurrying along pavements, while absent-mindedly turning the page of the paper, feels like the ultimate indulgence. It is a pleasure worth struggling out of bed an hour earlier for, before surrendering to the confines of the workplace.

I could talk about the pleasures of petit dejeuner indefinitely and am amazed by the myriad possibilities provided by the oeuf. Whether in the golden fold of an omelette, fried and glistening with butter or boiled and waiting for its soldier, the egg is key and without it breakfast is at a loss.

I find choosing from the many tempting delights on a morning menu taxing, especially so close to dawn. Should I have Eggs Benedict, Florentine or Royale which come nestled on toasted muffins and draped with tangy, velvet hollandaise. Or a pile of American style airy pancakes that melt into their moat of blueberry dotted maple syrup. Perhaps gratifyingly crunchy, nut filled, granola hidden under honey topped Greek yoghurt will suffice, or maybe a soft envelope of granary bread stuffed with crispy rashers of smoked bacon.

I am yet to work out if these classics are so satisfying simply because your body is at its hungriest, twelve hours since your last meal. It does seem that breakfast combinations are designed with comfort in mind perhaps derived from the familiarity of childhood classics or the sugar hit of sweet waffles and honeyed toast.

Having just returned from an inferior breakfast in a slightly superior restaurant I’ve realised that having your expectations disappointed by second rate sustenance sits even less well at sunrise than at other mealtimes, although I’m willing to admit that this may be attributable to the absence of booze and resulting clarity of memory.

So, in pursuit of breakfast nirvana I’m going to embark on a quest to find the best, worst, most obscure, interesting, healthy or heart attack worthy morning meals on offer.

Any suggestions for places to try would be very welcome…