Sharmila on Food

Hix Soho

This is going to be a short post in light of the fact that I spent all of 55 minutes in Hix Soho one lunchtime a few weeks ago. However, they were a seriously tasty and enjoyable 55 minutes, and I would urge anyone to go and try and at least stay in there for a bit longer.

I looked at the menu of this place online and immediately emailed it to my boyfriend, who promptly replied saying, let’s go for lunch, like, tomorrow. Brilliant. So we did. This is a really great space, and instantly reminded me of NYC - a spacious room, lots of light, trendily designed but still somewhere you could be happy and comfortable in for a few hours. The bar downstairs (managed by the supremely talented Nick Strangeway) also looks wonderful, and i can’t wait to partake of a few exemplary cocktails there when I get the chance. As I was working, there were unfortunately no cocktails for me on this occasion, but my boyfriend’s Scoff’s Law cocktail was very good indeed.

On to the menu - I could have eaten everything, pretty much, but restrained myself to just a main course in the end. I was initially going to go for the lamb and kidney pie with oysters. However, on noticing the dish on another table, I decided against, due to the lack of a pastry bottom on the pie. This is a not a pie in my eyes - this is a stew with a pastry lid. I’ll save my puritanical views on pies for another time. Instead, I plumped for the thornback ray with capers, parsley and lemon, and I’m glad I ordered it. This was perfectly cooked, the flesh coming away from the bone in delectable strands, with the capers and lemon cutting through the richness. This was a joy to eat. Similarly, the other half’s monkfish tails were hard to fault too. These aren’t complex dishes, but it always amazes me how often restaurants can manage to cook a piece of decent fish badly. In contrast, our fish at Hix was just bang on, exactly how you would want it. The creamed spinach on the side was pretty damn good too.

And, that was that. I stumbled back to work a very happy bunny.  I can’t wait to go back and have a full meal here. It’s not cheap (especially allowing for the fact that you will try some of the wonderful cocktails), but for a special meal, I can’t think of many places I would rather like to be.

Details: Hix Soho

66-70 Brewer Street

London

W1F 9TR

T: 020 7292 3518

Nearest transport: Oxford Circus or Piccadilly Circus tube Price: moderate to expensive

Sushi of Shiori, Drummond Street

I read about this tiny, tiny sushi place in Time Out and had  great opportunity to try it out on a Friday night before a late train up North from Euston.  It does really only have nine seats, and a fair few people got turned away as we ate our meal, so it makes sense to book.

Anyway, this was a wonderful meal, and definitely some of the nicest sushi I have had a in a long time, presented in a way that really was pretty as a picture.  This was a lovey experience also made even lovelier by the welcome of the owner who’s name I unfortunately didn’t catch.  She was eager to make sure we were comfortable, and eager to get our feedback.  She also gave us free ice cream.  You can’t go wrong really. Anyhow, on to the food.

We kicked things off with some thick slices of yellowtail sashimi.  These were great - super fresh, creamy and generous in portion size.  Alongside, some eel and egg Oshi-zushi.  I love eel, and this was a good rendition, especially alongside that rich egg.

To follow, a couple of skewers of chicken yakitori.  Tasty, but I definitely think the strength here is most certainly in the raw fish department.  Similarly, some chicken kara-age was tasty (who doesn’t love deep fried battered chicken), but nothing mind blowing.

However, the sushi set was definitely more wow.  The scallop in particular was wonderful, but everything smacked of freshness (often so hard to actually find in London).

By this point, we were quite sated, but I definitely wanted to try some of the homemade ice cream we’d noticed on the menu.  Being greedy guts, we plumped for three - one of green tea with adzuki beans, sweet potato and then chestnut.  They also have black sesame (one of my favourite things) but this is brought in rather than homemade.  We got going with the green tea first, and this was just fantastic.  A brilliant earthy flavour that was perfectly complemented by the slightly syrupy adzuki beans.  The sweet potato was also nice, but more subtle in flavour by comparison. We then got on to the chestnut.  The owner was worried as this had just been made and no one had tried it yet.  Fearing it might be horrible, she said she would give it to us for free.  We tried to desist, but she wasn’t having any of it.  She need not have worried though, as this was the most sublime of the lot.  This is one of the best ice creams I have had in a long time.  It managed to have that slightly mealy texture of chestnuts without being granular, and it had that wonderful richness of roasted chestnuts.  I can’t wait to have it again.

All in all, a really great meal made even better by great service.  I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face and thank the owner and her husband (who is the one in the kitchen) profusely for such a lovey evening.  Thankfully I work down the road, so I won’t have to wait long to go back.

Details:
Sushi of Shiori

144 Drummond St

London

NW1 2PA

0207 388 9962

Nearest transport: Euston Square, Warren St, Euston tubes

Price: average (we paid £25 each with a generous tip)

NB.  This place is BYO, but there is a Costcutter over the road.

Needoo Grill, Whitechapel

A lot of people have been to Tayyabs, and a lot of people like Tayyabs.  I do too.  It was one of the first London restaurant experiences I had when I graced the capital in 2003.  Back then, it wasn’t half as big, with the sweet counter bit consisting of a canteen for people to pop into during the day.  Even so, back then it was still always busy.  But it was worth it - the lamb chops, the sheekh kebab, the keema.  How could you not love those meaty, brilliantly spiced dishes?  All these years later, Tayyabs is still going strong, and still puts out consistently good food. However, I may be in the minority, but I do think it’s not as good as it used to be.  There, I’ve said it.  I might get lynched now.  This is not to say it’s bad.  It’s just not as consistently great, in my eyes.  Sometimes the lamb chops are more skimpy than they used to be, and the curries don’t always wow in the way they used to.

Why am I blathering on like this?  Well, Needoo is a restaurant round the corner from Tayyabs, set up by one of the family, and pretty much serves exactly what Tayyabs does.  I just had to know if it was as good, or dare I say it, better.

To cut to the chase, I thought it was.  This may be splitting hairs, but I generally felt everything I ate at Needoo had that extra bit of wow, that makes you almost melt when it comes to this type of big flavoured, hearty food.  The crew was snaking out the door, and I was mighty glad I’d booked (it had been reviewed in Metro that week).  It got me worried that standards might slip a bit this Friday night, but I was thankfully proved wrong.

Poppadoms had come fresh from the fryer, and were delightfully crisp.  To follow, we had to order the lamb chops and the sheekh kebabs.  I adored the lamb chops - delightfully charred, a good bit of meat on them, great marinade.  These were wonderful.  For me, Tayyabs edged it with the sheekh kebab, but you can never go wrong with a bit of grilled, spicy minced lamb.  These were still good.

It was my aim to not over order a la Tayyabs for the first time in my life, and we managed that.  To follow, we just plumped for the small dry meat curry and the dahl baingun.  The dahl was great - smoky, wonderfully soft aubergines, and a ton of flavours packed into those pulses.  Scooped up with an exemplary roti, and I was in heaven.

However, the star of the show was the dry meat.  I fell into a bewildered silence as I took my first mouthful, and tried to comprehend how delicious it tasted.  Now, this wasn’t the most tender lamb I’ve ever eaten, but I will always sacrifice tenderness for flavour.  And this delivered so so well.  I can’t even describe this properly, save to say it had layers of smokiness, richness, spiciness, oh my, this was great.  You should order this. Go now if you can.

And that was that.  A tenner each and out the door.  I was happy.  Very happy.  I shall be back.

Details:

Needoo Grill

87 New Road

London

E1 1HH

020 7247 0648

Nearest transport: Whitechapel tube (Hammersmith and City and District Lines)

Price: cheap as cheap can be.

More adventures in the beetroot field

Well, I finally cracked it.  The beetroot dish that my boyfriend finally liked.  Actually, more than liked.  More like really liked.  A momentous day, I’m sure you can imagine.

This is the beetroot kurma that my mum makes.  It is a truly wondrous thing, and incredibly easy to make.  It would have been easier if I had utilised the pressure cooker my mum has decided I have to have in my life, but I’m still too scared to use it.

Anyhow, if you love yoghurty, coconutty flavours, you should love this.  You will just have to get over the fact it looks, er, a bit weird.  Well, very weird.  Like a slightly discoloured picture from a 1970s cookery book.  Please don’t let that put you off though - it tastes great, and can even convert the staunchest beetroot-phobes.

Serves 2

4 medium sized beetroot, cooked whole, till tender and then peeled

A small handful of toasted cashew nuts

1-3 green finger chillies (depending on how hot you liked it)

1 cinnamon stick

1 handful of grated coconut (as per my last beetroot recipe, this can be found in the frozen section of most Indian food shops, and is definitely worth getting hold of)

1 tsp turmeric

1 1/2 tsp ground coriander

4 tbsp natural plain yoghurt

1 tbsp groundnut oil

Salt to taste

1. Put the coconut, chilli, cinnamon stick, ground coriander and a pinch of salt in a blender.  Blend to a coarse paste.  You might want some water to help you on the way with this.  I use my coffee/spice grinder to do this, but you could give it a go in a handheld blender or food processor in the smallest bowl.

2. Dice the beetroot into 3cm-ish chunks.

3. Heat the oil in a saucepan on a medium heat.  When hot, add the beetroot.  Then add the turmeric, and stir to coat the beetroot.

4. Add the paste from the blender and combine so that the beetroot is well coated in the mixture.  Cook for a minute or so so that the paste starts to cook through.

5. Take the pan off the heat, and add the yoghurt, a spoonful at a time, and mixing between each addition.  Stir until the mixture is well combined

6. Put the pan back on the heat, and bring to a slow simmer.  Simmer for 5 minutes, and then add salt to taste.

Great served with chapatis, even better with pooris.

Salt and pepper squid

Salt and pepper squid is incredibly easy to make (as long as you don’t mind a bit of deep fat frying taking place in your home), but for some reason, I never bothered to make it. That is even though I love eating it. A lot. Anyhow, I finally decided to give it a go - a decision probably also prompted by finally getting an extractor hood fitted in my kitchen. No more choking the entire flat/leaving a nice film of oil everywhere for me.

The recipe I used for this also incorporates sichuan peppercorns in addition to black peppercorns. This is primarily because I’m addicted to the numbing sensation of sichuan peppercorns (I need my fix), but they do actually help to make a very tasty end result too. I used fresh squid for this as I happened to be in the fishmonger, but you could definitely use frozen, which would be a lot easier too.

This quantity yielded a lot of salt and pepper squid, but the two of us did still manage to polish it off in record time.

Ingredients:

2 medium sized squid, cleaned (if you get fresh, your fishmonger should be able to do this for you)

1 tsp sea salt

1 tsp black peppercorns

1 tsp sichuan peppercorns

50g flour

500 ml vegetable oil

2 spring onions, sliced

1-2 red chillis, finely sliced

1. Toast the salt and peppercorns in a small frying pan until they smell aromatic and have darkened slightly. Cool and grind in a pestle and mortar or in a coffee grinder. Mix half of the mixture with the flour in a bowl, and set aside the other half.

2. Get your squid and slice in strips, about 3cms. Mine ended up a bit wider as I’m lazy.

3. Toss the squid in the seasoned flour until well coated.

4. Heat the oil in a deep pan. To test if it is hot enough, put a little piece of bread in the oil. If it starts to fizz and then browns easily, your oil should be hot enough.

5. Take a few pieces of squid at a time, pat off the excess flour and put in the oil. You don’t want to overcrowd the pan as this will bring the temperature of the oil down. Fry until the squid has turned a golden brown, and then drain on kitchen paper. Repeat for all of the squid.

6. Once all cooked, toss the squid with the spring onion and chilli, and sprinkle the remaining salt and pepper mixture over the top. Then, devour.

A riff on beetroot thoran

Beetroot is one of those vegetables that you either love or you hate.  I happen to absolutely love it, but my boyfriend hates it.  This generally means I end up eating the beetroot that sometimes comes in my veg box all on my own (sometimes a bit of an undertaking), or try and come up with ever more ingenious ways of getting my boyfriend to like beetroot.  They usually fail.  Beyond soup or just having it roasted, I always feel beetroot can lend itself really well to Indian food.  My mum makes a gorgeous beetroot korma which is unlike the sweet gloopy korma you would get in your local curry house.  This is a seriously tasty mixture of ground cashews, chilli, cinnamon, yoghurt and beetroot.  It looks vile, but with a couple of pooris on the side, you wouldn’t be complaining.

Another Indian beetroot dish that I adore is one that I chanced upon in my local South Indian restaurant, Ganapati: http://www.ganapatirestaurant.com/.  It was a thoran consisting of beetroot, coconut and I think, either mung beans or whole black urad dahl and tasted really lovely - the sweetness of the beetroot contrasting wonderfully with the earthiness of the pulses and the crunch of the coconut.  They have a set of recipe cards to purchase, but alas, this is not in there.  So, I have basically guessed at the recipe.  This was really tasty with a couple of chapatis on the side, but it still didn’t taste as great as the one at Ganapati.  However, it’s still worth cooking for a tasty, wholesome and relatively healthy meal.

Ingredients:

4 medium sized beetroot

A handful of grated coconut (I buy this frozen, which you should be able to get in any Indian supermarket)

1 tsp mustard seeds

1 tsp urad dahl

5-10 curry leaves (again, you should be able to get this in an Indian supermarket, though larger supermarkets do stock them now.  I buy a bunch and freeze them)

1/2 tsp turmeric

A pinch of asafoetida (sometimes called hing)

2 green chillis, chopped (though you can add more if you wish)

A handful of whole black urad lentils (I think mung beans would work here too), soaked overnight and cooked in simmering water until tender

1 tbsp groundnut oil

Salt to taste

1. Cook your beetroot.  They will probably need a good wash and scrub. If they come with their leaves, remove these (you can actually eat them if you blanch them, so they are worth saving).  I would boil them whole, skin on (this is important as it ensures the colour doesn’t leach out) until tender.  This means a knife should slip easily into the centre, and should also mean the skin slips off easily.  Leave till cool enough to handle, peel away the skin and then dice in pieces around 2cm across.

2. Whilst the beetroot is simmering away, grind the coconut with the green chillies with a pinch of salt and a dash of water.  I use my coffee grinder for this, though you should be able to do this in a smaller bowl of a food processor.  You want to end up with a coarse paste.

3. Heat the groundnut oil over a medium heat in a saucepan.  Then add the mustard seeds and urad dahl.  When the mustard seeds begin to pop and the urad dahl darkens a shade, add the curry leaves.  Fry for around 10 seconds.

4. Add the turmeric and asafoetida and fry for a few seconds to take away the floury taste of the spices.

5.  Add coconut paste and stir so that everything is incorporated.  Then add the beetroot and stir well, so that the beetroot is coated in the mixture.

6. Add a bit of water if needs be, and simmer for 5 minutes or so, so that the flavours have had some time to mingle.  Add salt to taste, and serve.

101 Thai Kitchen, Stamford Brook

Thai food in London is generally terrible.  This is an opinion that has been formed from years of eating gloopy, overly sweet approximations of Thai dishes, with little of the amazing balance of sweet, hot and sour, that the best Thai food has.  Every time someone tells me of somewhere that is actually good, I end up disappointed, with my feelings only getting as far as “eh”, and pretty much never “wow”.  Oddly enough, for years I’ve felt the best Thai food I’ve eaten in London is that made by the wonderful owners of Sri Thai Supermarket at 56 Shepherds Bush Road in West London.  A husband and wife team, accompanied by their very odd dog who sports a fetching Mr Men t-shirt, they are truly lovely people, and the food the wife cooks for takeaway at lunchtime is great.  Incredibly fiery, but always tasty and balanced.  How I love their minced chicken and aubergine red curry.  At the end of the day though, this is a supermarket, not a restaurant, and if this is the best Thai food I can get in London, well, that seems a bit of a shocking indictment.

For a while now though, I’ve been hearing great things about 101 Thai Kitchen in Stamford Brook, and also about the fact that they do wonderful Isaan dishes.  Oh, larb, Isaan sausage, som tam, how you please me so.  Considering I work around Hammersmith, it is pretty appalling that it has taken me so long to get down there, but i finally managed it, and I was handsomely rewarded.  On a hot summer’s evening, I found myself with my friend Ian in a cooling, bright pink room, being helpfully aided by staff who enthusiastically translated the specials board for us.  I also immediately flipped to the back of the menu, where all the Isaan goodies were hiding.  We didn’t order much, as portions were big, and the three dishes we ordered were more than enough.  We plumped for the special som tam off the specials board, chargrilled Isaan sausages, and the chicken larb.  Nothing very adventurous, all typical Isaan dishes.  However, this didn’t mean the results were pedestrian in the slightest.

First up was the special som tam.  Alongside the shredded papaya and dried shrimp was a feast of Thai ingredients, ranging from pea aubergines, to prawns, spam, dried salted fish and deep fried pork skin (scratchings, basically).  This was good, very good, and mingled wonderfully with the sticky rice we had ordered alongside.  I definitely needed that sticky rice, and the raw vegetables (including long beans - I love long beans) alongside to dampen the flames in my mouth.  Fiery bliss.

Next up were the Isaan sausages.  Firstly, who doesn’t love sausages? And when you’ve got a dose of spice, sticky rice and a lovely sour tang in there too, you have sausage brilliance.  These were very very tasty.

By this point I was getting pretty full and the larb hadn’t even arrived yet.  And then it did, and it was a hefty portion.  I love larb though, in the way I love most things made with minced meat (so soothing, you don’t even have to chew that much!).  Again, this was great - incredibly spicy, but also packing a good punch from the sliced red onion, and having a good dose of herbs and lime to give it some real freshness.  As I tried to clear my plate, I realised the spice was going to defeat me (a rare feat, considering I am a chilli addict).  As much as I tried to deny this fact, the intense sweating that was engulfing me forced me to stop.  Ian managed to push on though, and finish the rest.  He’s a stronger person than I.

We could have left it there, but our joint love of strange textured Asian desserts meant we had to give the Jewels of Siam and taro cake a go.  The Jewels of Siam was a mix of ice, coconut milk, shaved coconut and bits of weird coloured jelly.  Sounds rank, tasted ace.  I suppose this was like a soupier, less icy take on iced kachang.  The taro cake was good - dense, as you can imagine taro cake to be.  However, the inclusion of crispy fried shallots on top was a bit too much of an “interesting” taste sensation for me.

As we ambled up to the tube, gearing up for the long journey home, we both said this was the best Thai food we had had in London.  I’m sure some people might be able to give me some other recommendations, or may well say this is not the case, but 101 Thai Kitchen came closest to replicating those flavours I’ve hankered after ever since my adventures in Thailand a few years ago.  So, I’ve been proved wrong - not all Thai food is terrible in London.

Details:

101 Thai Kitchen

352 King Street

London

W6 0RX

02087466888

Nearest transport: Stamford Brook tube

Price: Cheap, we paid around £17 per head with service

Clam-tastic

A few weeks ago I celebrated my anniversary with my boyfriend.  Iniitally we had planned to re-visit Chez Bruce and have what would be a lovely meal of classic French food, great wine and probably even better cheese.  However, a succession of busy weekends and busier weeks meant eating out ended up being the last thing we wanted to do.  So, we planned a bit of an anniversary feast at home.  Off we went to Borough to pick up, amongst other things, T-bone steaks from The Ginger Pig, some beautiful cheese including Wigmore and Cashel Blue from Neals Yard Dairy, and some punchy red wine from the wine place that I can never remember the name of.  This was the basis of anniversary dinner - steak frites with bernaise, lots of red wine, and cheese.  However, we were still wondering what to do for a starter.

Then, Kev had one of those eureka moments (well, more a “let’s re-create that amazing thing we ate that I really want to eat again” moment).  Our trip to NYC last year was a veritable glutton-fest, but amidst all that food, one dish really stood out - the pizza bianco with clams from Otto.  If you ever want to feel that sense of NYC informality combined with a great interior and seriously tasty food, this is the place to go.  Anyhow, this pizza was wonderful.  No tomato - just lovely crisp, blackened base, with chilli, garlic, clams and parsley nestling on top.  Now, at this point you’re probably wondering what we were thinking in entertaining the notion of having pizza as a starter.  Well, I should stress these would be mini-pizzas.  Yes, mini.  I promise.

A trip to Shellseekers got us the clams we needed, and off we toddled home.  I didn’t have a recipe for Otto’s pizza, but some quick cobbling together of different recipes off the internet got me kind of what I wanted.  Anyway, these pizzas turned out beautifully.  The sauce made from the clam juices packs a real punch, and as long as you don’t overcook the clams, they remain really tender.  I have to admit, this is a recipe that is much easier to do well with a pizza stone.  The high heats and short cooking times a pizza stone gives you make it much easier to cook the base to perfection without drying out the clams.  If you don’t have one, I would recommend leaving the clams off the pizza, and only putting them on the base for the last few minutes of cooking time.

Ingredients for two mini pizzas (you would have to scale up to make larger ones)

Clams - about two handfuls

1 clove of garlic, finely sliced

1 dried red chilli

Glass of white wine

2 tbsp olive oil

Approx. 150 ml double cream

Handful of flat leaf parsley, chopped

For the pizza dough, I would normally use a very basic recipe, such as this one, with the addition of a pinch of salt:  http://www.pizzarecipe.org.uk/

1. Pre-heat your oven to its highest setting.  If you have a pizza stone, put it on the bottom of your oven whilst it is pre-heating.  Otherwise, get a pizza try/baking tray and do the same.

2.  Soak the clams in a sink or big bowl of water for a an hour or so, changing the water at least once.  This will help get rid of any grit or sand they are holding on to.

3. Rinse the clams well, and discard any that don’t close.

4. Heat the olive oil in a saucepan on a medium heat.  Add the garlic and crumble in the chilli, and gently fry till the garlic is softened.

5.  Add in the wine, bring to the boil, and then tip the clams into the pan.  Cover, turn the heat to low, and leave the clams to steam until they are all opened.  This should only take a few minutes.

6.  Once the clams are cooked, fish them out of the pan and leave to cool.  Do not throw away the cooking liquid!  Once easy to handle, remove the clam meat from the shells and set aside.

7.  Strain the clam cooking liquid through muslin and return to a clean saucepan.  Bring up to simmer, add the cream, stir and then reduce by half.  You want a sauce that is the consistency of double cream. Check for seasoning, and then leave to cool down.

8.  Roll out your risen pizza dough until you have a very thin (about 4mm) round base.  Smear the clam sauce all over the base until you have an even layer.

9.  If you are using a pizza stone, sprinkle the clam meat over the pizza base, and then lift the pizza onto the stone and whack in the oven.  It should only take about foru minutes for the pizza to cook.  If you don’t have a pizza stone, transfer the base without the clams to the oven.  A few minutes before the pizza is done, sprinkle the clam meat on top to warm them through.

10.  When done, remove from the oven, sprinkle with the chopped flat leaf parsley, add a drizzle of olive oil and scoff.

Piazza by Anthony, Leeds

One of the elements of my job that can be quite depressing is travelling on my own.  The life of a qualitative researcher can sometimes be a very lonely one, as you find yourself in another hotel room quite like one you stayed in last month, with only BBC World for company.  In these cases, it can sometimes be hard to push yourself to interact with where you are, and far easier to order something you know will be terrible from room service, but at least you can eat it whilst wearing a dressing gown and fluffy white slippers.  This might sound like madness - what, you’re in a foreign country, with great food, and you’re ordering a hamburger from room service? Pah!  Well, sadly, this is true.  Especially in countries where there is little scope to eat well on the cheap and on your own.

Basically, I’m talking Europe here.  Asia is usually great - no one will look at you strangely if you’re slurping down some noodles at a hawker stall on your own.  For me, the UK can also fall into the former camp, and I still haven’t got past the stage of trying to hide behind a book and simultaneously merge into the soft furnishings when eating on my own.  This often means I end up eating some desultory offering from the Malmaison room service menu (a hotel chain that appears to have had a design brief of “make this place look like a bordello, and be quick about it”).  However, on a recent trip to Leeds, I decided to forego this untempting option and actually eat out, on my own, in this fair city.

I’m a big fan of Leeds - my best friend went to university there, part of the Northern axis my friends and I created for ourselves by all going to Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds respectively.  It’s a fun city, and one where I always find the people to be seriously friendly.  I have generally found myself eating at Red Chilli when I go there - a small chain of Sichuan restaurants that also exist in Manchester and, oddly enough, Bacup and Atherton.  Anyhow, as much as I love Red Chilli, the time was right to try something new.  I had read Jay Rayner’s review of Piazza by Anthony and felt this was the type of casual, but classic place I could easily eat on my own in without feeling like a pariah.  I have never eaten at Anthonys signature restaurant, but he sounds like a pretty interesting fellow who has been doing interesting things for years now.

So, I rocked up at Anthonys, on my own, and was given a lovely welcome.  As I had stupidly forgotten to bring a book, they happily gave me a newspaper to skim through as I ate.  The menu is a large A3 thing, with a list of bistro style specials.  They also have quite an extensive looking wine list, and a good range of cocktails.  Of course, I went for a dry gin martini.  What more could you want after a long day?  I opted for something I never usually go for - a salad, as a starter, of asparagus and goats cheese.  Sounds pretty prosaic, but gosh, this was a truly wonderful salad.

The asparagus had been griddled so that it was almost caramelised in places.  Alongside, the goats cheese was a good specimen - very creamy, but with a great goaty tang.  Some leaves mixed in here were not just an afterthought.  They were a great mix of fresh and slightly bitter, and brilliantly offset the other ingredients.  Bringing this all together was a perfectly judged dressing of balsamic and oil.  Asparagus, goats cheese, balsamic.  A combo that so many poor gastropubs and restaurants throw together to create something that can only be labelled as “meh”.  In contrast, this was everything you could hope for from this combo.

My main course had a lot to live up to from this initial high, and though it didn’t really equal it, it was still an enjoyable dish of spaghetti with garlic and squid.  In my mind, I was anticipating a dish with little sauce, but just a very simple combo of oil, garlic, chilli and squid.  In fact, this came in a cream based sauce, with a strong seam of garlic running through.  Whilst not bad in any way, this was comfort food rather than the altogether fresher, cleaner taste I was anticipating.  The pasta was cooked perfectly though, with a good bite.

By this point, I was enjoying myself so much that I decided to go the whole hog and get pudding.  Whilst not an incredibly inspiring list, the cooking thus far had made me believe that the pannacotta would taste good.  And it did.  That blob on top was a beautifully sharp raspberry sorbet.  Whilst not traditional, it really added to the dish, and cut through all that cream.  The pannacotta was actually quite set, which I know is sacriledge for a good pannacotta.  However, I secretly quite like this, in the same way I like all those gelatinous, odd bouncy texture desserts you generally get in East and South East Asia.  Just don’t tell anyone.

As I settled up and made my exit, I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face.  I had really enjoyed myself here.  A friendly experience, with some lovely, classic cooking.  As I ambled back to my crushed velvet hotel room, I once again couldn’t help but warm to Leeds.

Details:

PIazza by Anthony

Corn Exchange

Call Lane

Leeds

LS1 7BR

0113 2470995

Average Price: Average. Around £35 per head with wine and service.

My mum's aloo recipe - for Koser

The aloo (potato) that my mum makes is stuff of legend.  Few ingredients, serious taste.  It was one of my favourite dishes growing up, and she still makes it for me now when I visit home.  But then, who wouldn’t love spicy, crispy, soft potatoes?

I now make this myself, but even though I follow what my mum does, it never tastes quite as good.  Ah, such is life.  Even so, it still tastes great, and is a dish that comforts as much as perks you up with its spiciness.  Anyhow, one of my oldest friends mentioned that she would love to have the recipe for this, as it was one of her favourite things that she would eat at our house when she would come round for tea.  I was more than happy to oblige, seeing this as a great opportunity to cook this fantastic dish.

Ingredients for two people:

2 medium sized potatoes - red skinned ones are best as they hold their shape but aren’t too waxy

1 tsp mustard seeds

1 tsp urad dhal (you should be able to pick this up in any Asian grocers, or in some bigger supermarkets with a “foods of the world” section)

a pinch of asafoetida (sometimes also called hing)

1/2 tsp turmeric

1/2 tsp chilli powder

Salt to taste (you do need quite a bit, but maybe that’s just me)

Groundnut oil (or vegetable oil if you can’t find groundnut)

1. Peel and chop the potatoes into medium sized chunks - if you imagine a chunk of pineapple, that’s probably about right.  Parboil until almost cooked and drain.

2. Heat a tablespoon of groundnut oil in a frying pan over a medium heat.  Add the mustard seeds and urad dhal.  Fry until the mustards seeds begin to pop and the urad has changed a shade darker and smells nutty.  Be careful not to burn the spices.

3. Add the turmeric, chilli powder and asafoetida, stir and cook for about 30 seconds (make sure you have a window open or your extractor on - this can often smell quite pungent and induce a coughing fit - spoken from bitter experience)

4. Add the potatoes, toss in the pan until all the potato is coated with the oily spice mixtue.

5. Fry for a few minutes until brown in places, and developing a lovely crisp exterior.

6. At this point, I usually add a splash of water to stop the spices burning.  Then, cover and turn the heat to low.

7. Cook until the potatoes are cooked through.  If you wish, you can then uncover, turn up the heat and cook so that the potatoes end up crisp on the outside.

8. Season with salt to taste.

I have been known to devour a bowl of this on it’s own, but it does taste wonderful with rice and rasam (a soupy, spicy South Indian broth flavoured with tomatoes - this is often mixed with the rice itself), which would be traditional in my house.  I also love it just with chapatis, though a lot of people find this a bit dry.  I don’t mind though, even if that is carb overload.