Bocca di Lupo: From the mouth of the wolf, straight to my belly

After a long hard day at work, all I yearned for was a cold gin and tonic and some friendly banter. I couldn’t face the realisation that had I gone home, all I would have ended up doing is watch crap tv and order a takeaway. A few messages later, and the steak eating fiend who is @baconchop decided to join me for said beverage. A few beers, some chat, then home. Well, that was the plan anyway.

Inevitably after a few drinks, our thoughts started to wander to our rumbling bellies and food became a necessity. There may be a thousand places to eat in Soho, but when you are pushed for a decision, you end up wandering the streets listlessly, which is exactly the scenario we found ourselves in. I am not entirely sure how we found our way to Archer street, divine inspiration perhaps, but we stood outside Bocca di Lupo hoping they could squeeze us in. Located opposite its sister gelateria (Gelupo, see what they did there?) it peddles regional Italian food. Not particularly descriptive, but the smells emanating from the open kitchen were enough to convince us that this was definitely the right decision.

It was packed but as it was fairly late (9pm’ish) people had started to finish and leave and a few spaces began to appear, there was hope. The exceptional front of house (seriously lovely) told us to hold fire and she would seat us. Even the addition of Adam’s other half and friend didn’t throw her and a few minutes later, we were perched at the bar with our drinks in tow and a glorious view of the action to boot. As lovely as the main dining room looks, a seat at the bar provides entertainment, banter and beautiful aromas, and fuelled with wine and cocktails, we appeared to have lost the best part of our decision making function. We chose a few things, and left a few choices upto our waitress, and sat back to watch the show begin.

We watched the chefs throw things in the oil, assemble things on plates and chuck stuff on the grill intently, salivating and hoping that one of the delicious looking dishes was ours. The first things that arrived were a few morsels of fried goodness. Suppli (Roman arancini, of sorts) bocconcini (fried mozzarella balls) and stuffed olives (stuffed with minced pork and veal, so damn good) were lightly fried and redundant of grease.

Next was a simple salad of Shaved radish, celeriac & pecorino, garnished with pomegranates & truffle oil. This wasn’t something that either Adam or myself were going to order, but our delightful waitress (I will be harping on about the service we had on the night, it was amongst the best and most personable I have ever had in any restaurant) insisted on it and I am really glad she did. I was incredibly surprised by the combination of flavours, the rich earthy truffles, the crunch from the celeriac, the peppery radish and the bursts of sweetness from the pomegranates. Stunning flavours, and each recognisable.

The first round of dishes were rounded off with some of the lightest and most delicate calamari I have ever tasted, lightly floured, quickly dipped in boiling oil and produced fresh and greaseless. A squeeze of lemon and we were ready to go.

The pasta and risotto dishes were next. The finferli and asiago risotto was probably the low point of our meal. Packed with mushrooms, you can hardly accuse them of being stingy, but compared to everything else I ate, this was bland and a bit boring. The pork and veal agnolotti were exactly the opposite. Tiny, delicate little pasta parcels packed with flavour in a light sage and butter sauce. This dish totally blew my mind, and I have been hankering for a return visit just to try these again. A most wonderful end to our savouries.

We had eaten a huge amount for just two people, but having visited Gelupo across the road, there was no way I could leave without dessert. Managing to convince my dining companion that a chocolate spread made of mostly pigs blood was a good idea (the sanguinaccio was described to us as a funky nutella, must be what sold it), I opted for a somewhat safer option of an ice cream "surprise". A chocolate shell encasing two surprise flavours of ice cream. The first was chestnut, and being a big fan of nut based ice creams, I was very pleased. The name of the second escapes me, but was packed with candied fruit and tasted of Christmas.

This was one of the most enjoyable meals I have had in London, bar none. The food was exquisite, with surprising flavour combinations sitting side by side with simple but clean flavours. The service was stunning and worth visiting for the hospitality of the staff alone. There is still so much on the menu I am desperate to try, yet so many things I have already tried that I desperately want to order again. Yes, the meal was expensive, with it coming to about £60 a head with a few drinks, but when the experience leaves me wondering when my next visit is going to be, there are absolutely no complaints. I am already salivating at the mere thought of it.

Bocca di Lupo - 12 Archer Street, W1D 7BB

LRF 2010: And the winner is....

.....Neris and Helen!

Picked out of a bowl of all entries by two of my workmates

Congratulations guys, you win a pair of tickets to the Biq Quiz on the 11th October, which includes the festival menu and a bottle of Mumm Cordon Rouge!

I have already got in touch with Neris but I still need to get hold of Helen. If you're out there, please email me ASAP or I will have to draw another winner.

Enjoy!

*HOLD THE PRESS*, Helen has been located!

Tudor Road Supper Club: What a chef does when he is on holiday

Professional chefs work bloody hard. Long hours, hot kitchens, churning out food day after day with little reward other than the knowledge that others might be enjoying what they have produced. Professional kitchens are nothing like the domestic kitchen. Don't get me wrong, I haven't worked in one, but knowing a few who have, it sounds like hell on earth which would totally take away the joy of cooking.

Ben Greeno is one of these chefs. Having worked in some of the worlds most established restaurants (including Restaurant Sat Bains, Noma and Momofuku), he is taking a well earned rest after returning from a short stint in New York. Well, I say rest; Ben has decided to set up his own supper club in his home for a few months before he embarks on his next adventure, so I decided to pop along with a few friends, a second best to actually heading to Noma and eating there.

Some supper club purists may have an issue with Ben's set up. After all, he is a professionally trained chef with years of experience behind him, surely this isn't fair on the multitudes of other non trained supper clubbers? Personally, I go for the experience and the food is normally a secondary concern. As long as I have a good time and don't get food poisoning, I am pretty pleased. In this case, we bundled into Bens flat, straight into his living room where the one singular long table is set up and had a glass of cider thrust into our hands, with another table filled with radishes, bread and dips were waiting us. The basil emulsion (mayonnaise) and roasted pepper dip had us constantly dipping and munching, whilst we mingled with the guests on the balcony as they arrived. Good start.

As we sat down, I seemed to have hit the jackpot when it came to dining companions. Along with the people I came with, I had Rob Martin, an American chef and also Noma alumni, sitting next to me and a group of lively food loving Singaporeans a little further down the table. The night was getting good. We started chatting and chowing down on some delicious bread spread thickly with nasturtium butter delivering little salty bursts, as our first course of "carrots" was served. Looks simple, but the combination of poached carrots, raw carrots and cherries soaked in dashi gave the dish an almost sweet and sour quality. Delicious, but the size had me concerned. If all the dishes were this dainty, how the hell was I going to be full by the end of the meal?

Next up was raw mackerel, challenging for a fish hater like me, but I dove in anyway. I needn't have worried, the mackerel was super fresh and the tart sauce made from jostaberries (a cross between the gooseberry and blackcurrant) went with the creamy mackerel well. The "scrumped" apple from a nearby garden added texture, with the bitter leaves building another level of flavour. Simple but clever.

The next dish of pork cigar, slowly caramelised onions and slow poached egg was rather grey, with purple edible flowers lifting the whole dish. The flavours though, were far from grey. Meaty rich pork cigar, the sweet sweet onions and the slow poached egg (gelatinous, having been poached at a consistent 62 degrees), textures, flavours, a symphony of sensations.

You know I was worried about the size of the dishes earlier? Yeah, I was starting to fill up and we were nowhere near the end. The "main" was probably the nearest dish we had to what most would call a conventional one, slow roast lamb belly, a berry jus (I forget which) and parsnips two ways (roasted and pureed). Simple but great flavours.

Ben (if his biopic is correct) jointly headed up the pastry section at Noma, so you can probably say he is a dab hand with desserts. What arrived was a deconstructed lemon meringue pie, with shards of rosewater meringue, blobs of lemon curd and dehydrated ginger biscuits carefully arranged on the plate. Kernels of sweetcorn and a smattering of blackberries added additional sweetness. So good, I was caught licking my plate, and you know what, I didn't care.

I was full and satisfied. Throughout every course, there was much banter and the atmosphere was just perfect. Loads of chatter, laughs and stunning food. Ben had been an excellent host and the food was all I had hoped it would be. He came and joined us with the coffees and chatted with the guests. Coffee with toffee truffles turned to wine, which turned to more wine and, well, turned into a very late night. We chatted about many things, but one included his exciting next steps in his culinary adventure. Go before he stops cooking and if/when you do go one word of advice. Don't load up on the delicious bread early like I did, you will regret it later.

Ben Greeno's Tudor Road - Somewhere in Hackney. It may be on Tudor Road...

Thursday Tidbit - Your Secret Ingredient

Right, this has got to stop. Seriously, I look at it everyday and wonder how it could ever have got into this state. I am careful and normally attentive, but I admit, I took my eye off the ball on this one. One minute it was manageable, and then all of a sudden, when you're not looking, it all starts to spiral out of control. I have tried my hardest, but something has to change.

I am of course talking about what happens when you neglect your blog. I look at the list of unpublished posts, not even thinking about the posts I have meant to write which have been deleted from my memory. A pitiful effort...but I have a plan. Every Thursday, I shall unleash the Thursday tidbit. Shorter, snappier, better.

So first up, a lovely event organised by we are social and held at The Hospital Club, to try and figure out a mystery ingredient, all used within a variety of dishes. All we were told was that the dishes all used a common readily available and oft used ingredient, with some created by the attending ambassador for this brand, Paul Rankin, and others by the team behind the brand. So what was it?

First two dishes, chicken quesadillas (cheesy loveliness) and a grilled chicken with a mango salsa (well cooked, and nice with the salsa). Hmm, a common ingredient, chicken would be too obvious, surely?

Next up, spag bol and shepherds pie. Hmm, I think I have an idea now. The sweetness in the spag bol kind of gives it away. I think someones been a bit heavy handed with the old squeezy bottle...

Asian style salmon salad is a total no go area for me, but sort of confused now. Surely nothing squeezy is in this dish? Curry was pleasant, and makes me think my initial guess is right. Yup, sticking to my guns.

The secret ingredient was of course Ketchup, an ingredient endorsed not only by Paul Rankin, but also by my mum (she makes an excellent sweet and sour pork, incorporating ketchup). The cap off the night, our dessert was ketchup cake, which no matter how disgusting it sounds, was delicious. I may even try ketchup with my cornflakes in the morning...

*Check out other cool stuff you can do with ketchup at http://www.heinz.co.uk/secretingredient from the 27th September*

The Hackney Wizzle Munch Tour

Hackney Wick is one of those areas people who live in London don't go to unless they actually live there. I mean, seriously, all there is there are warehouses and canals filled with shopping trolleys, surely there can be no reason to visit? At least that was my opinion until Nicola (she of Shedlikesfood fame) decided to organise a tour to prove that there was more to Hackney Wick than rats and pigeons. As the token South Londoner and a habitual hater of East London, she was taking a real chance inviting me along, but she was confident that the wares of Hackney Wick would be enough to convince me that there be good things amongst all these warehouses.

So, early start and the first stop was breakfast at The Counter Cafe

Who knew such a great little cafe existed in the middle of pretty much nowhere? Surrounded by those ever present warehouses, The Counter is an oasis amongst the urban wilderness. Upon arrival, we ordered a few coffees to perk us up from the early morning start. My order of a flat white was velvety smooth and had that slight natural sweetness synonymous with the Antipodean coffee I drank out in Melbourne. Great start.

We were then served mini portions of a few of the Counter Cafes classics. The first were masala scrambled eggs which were delicately spiced and just made me wish I had a bigger portion (that was until my brain kicked in and the realisation that eating a little at a time on a food tour was probably a sensible thing). For "dessert" we were served their signature french toast served with a sweet but slightly tart compote of berries and banana. I love french toast and I love berries and bananas. I loved this dish.

With all these complex carbs, I really needed to work off a few before we headed off towards our next destination. Luckily enough, there is a table tennis table out back to do just that and after a few rounds with Lex, we were ready to move onto our next destination, the Hackney Pearl.

Lunch at the Hackney Pearl

The short stroll along the canal to the Hackney Pearl was quite welcome, helping us further digest some more of the food we had just eaten, steeling us for the feast that the Hackney Pearl had prepared for us. It was pretty empty when we first arrived but slowly filled up throughout the time we were there until bursting point when we left a few hours later.

First drink of the day in hand (it was just about 12 at this stage), we started with a selection of starters including a veggie mezze (with some really good mushed up carrots, creamy slaw and a tzatziki of sorts) and a ball of chicken liver pate which was far too “livery” for my tastes, but seemed to go down well with the rest of the table.

The mains were the real star with a whole slow roast lamb shoulder and salsa verde. The lamb was unctuous and so tender that strands of meat were just dripping off. When presented with this grand lump of meat, we questioned how long it had been cooking, receiving the response “ A long time, I had to constantly wake up during the night to keep it moist”. A real labour of love, it was certainly appreciated.

The behemoth of an Eton Mess we had for dessert was perfectly nice, if a little heavy on the cream, not a qualm you often hear from me. A better balance of meringue and fruit would have been ideal, but even then, we all tucked in heartily. By the time we were done, it hardly looked like we had made a dent into the beast.

Upon completion, it was time for another meander. Doubling back on ourselves, we headed back over the bridge, down past the canal, straight past the Counter and onwards deep into warehouse territory. Before we knew it, we were standing outside Formans, a massive grey and salmon pink building belying it’s true nature. Famous for its smoked salmon and smoker (as well as holding the record for the worlds fastest pin-boned and carved side of smoked salmon), it also contains a restaurant and a pretty bewildering art gallery.

We made our way to the balcony which with its Astroturf and stunning view of the Olympic stadium would have been the perfect setting for the conclusion of our tour. Unfortunately, it started to spit which consequently turned into an almighty downpour and we were restricted to remaining indoors.

The selection of Formans cheeses and dessert wine were a wonderful finale, and it was an absolute miracle that I managed to get through so much cheese. I had another engagement to head to (yet more food!), but I left “The Wick” enlightened and realising that it was more than just warehouses, rats and smelly canals. It had been a brilliant day and I have only Swift to thank for sorting out. I'm sure I will be back to Wick soon!

The Counter Cafe - 4a Roach Rd, Hackney Wick, London E3 2PA

The Hackney Pearl - 11 Prince Edward Road, Hackney Wick E9 5LX

Forman and Fields - Stour Rd, Fish Island, London E3 2NT

Lupita: Mexico City in London town, Charing Cross

Following London's obsession with Mexican imports (yes burritos, i'm looking at you) I approached the opening of Lupita with trepidation. It claimed to be London's first truly authentic Mexican restaurant, quite a claim with so many other protaganists claiming authenticity within the capital. The difference lies in its provenance. Brought to London by the same team who run El Farolita in Mexico city, a well regarded taqueria, they use as many authentic Mexican ingredients as they can lay their hands on to produce food as good as you can get back in Latin America. So in order to test out such grand claims, I turned to my fountain of Latin American food knowledge and probably the harshest judge of anyone I know, and headed on down to Villiers street to see what it was all about.

The menu is very much focused around Mexican street food, tacos, quesadillas and other hand held bites, with each plate designed for sharing. Whilst we pondered the choices, margaritas aided our decision making as well a as plate of tortilla chips and salsa (good salsa, chips unfortunately out of a bag). I gave up on the menu shortly after and left Carla to it.

Tacos arrived first, corn and not flour (apparently flour tacos are for heathens). The taco pastor were sweet and juicy, with a delicious mix of slow cooked pork and bacon marinated in a huge variety of ingredients, ending up in a fruity concoction. These did not last long. The taco nopales (or cactus to the uninitiated) had the taste and texture of okra, not something I am particularly fond of, so didn't really rock my world.

We went for an interesting mix of quesadillas, with one choice of chorizo erring on the normal, whilst the other of huitlacoche being downright odd. As with all the greatest delicacies in the world, the Mexicans saw their corn being destroyed by fungus and curiosity (as well as hunger) drove them to eat it. The chorizo was perfectly pleasant (if not cheesy enough), but the huitlacoche (also known as "corn smut") was quite an experience. An unpleasant looking black sludge, it had a herbal taste with a muted nuttiness. Not all that unpleasant, but I found it quite rich after a few mouthfuls.

The alambre was described by my dining partner as close to fajitas as you would get in a Mexican restaurant, and mighty fine they were too. We were flagging at this stage and we began to chat with one of the managers Rafael as there were a few unanswered questions. I say we, the conversation was very much led in Spanish, but at the end of it, I think he passed the inquisition. One stickling point was regarding the rather expensive guacamole, which seems to be following the trend of having it freshly made at your table and then charging you £7 for the privelege. Rafael agreed that it wasn't a decision they took fondly, and that he would much rather his staff were taking orders and serving, than wasting time at each persons table. He then told us that this was going to be removed in the next menu and replaced by a cheaper, not-made-at-your-table version. A good move. He also proceeded to send some over for us to try, and we managed to shovel a few mouthfuls of excellent creamy guac into our pieholes.

This brought an end to our food binge, and coming to just over £15 a head for the food, it was thoroughly excellent value. I looked over to the harshest judge of them all. She had been quite muted for most of the meal and I was unaware of her verdict, but she smiled and said that she would quite happily come back again. I need no further proof, Lupita is excellent value and definitely bucking the trend. A Mexican restaurant actually run by Mexicans.

Lupita - 13-15 Villiers Street, London WC2N 6ND

A good reason to go North: Pig Feast at the Red Lion and Sun, Highgate

August has been one hell of a month. Who knew that starting a new job would have such a massive impact on my blogging output. I am happy to report that I have come out unscathed and am very much looking forward to my second week back in full employment, but unfortunately, it has left me with an abject fear of turning my computer on when I eventually get home. Not particularly conducive for writing a blog.

I have though been keeping myself rather busy outside of work and have had the opportunity to attend some pretty amazing things arranged by the good people off twitter. First up was a pig feast. Organised by the lovely Hollowlegs, it involved getting together some of my favourite people and roasting a 75kg Gloucester Old Spot in a beautiful pub up in leafy Highgate.

The Red Lion and Sun is owned by Heath, a boisterous Kiwi I first bumped into at Bar Boulud, but more frequently in the pubs run by his good friend Scott. Having bought the pub a few years back, he told me stories of how many of the locals had initially disapproved (including one involving spitting) but eventually got them to warm to him over the years. I guess the regular pig and lamb roasts that he holds helps sway them in his favour (even if it has meant that Heath is sick of the stuff!).

So I guess that helps to explain how about 30 of us found ourselves in the pub garden gorging ourselves on some of the sweetest and most succulent pork I had ever eaten. To accompany it, we were given bowls of BBQ and homemade apple sauce, as well as a variety of salads including coleslaw, tomatoes and some of the best potato salad I have eaten in a while. And I really shouldn't forget the ever flowing pieces of crackling, probably as close to heaven as I can get.

Drinks on the night were kindly provided by Four Roses Bourbon and D'Arenberg wines. The bourbon was spun into cocktails by the able staff and the wine flowed deep into the night. With names like "The Stump Jump" and "The Love Grass", the wine kept us amused before we even had a taste, and well, we all know what happens once you actually drink it...

The Red Lion and Sun is about as far away from my home as I am willing to travel in an evening, which is a shame as if it were closer, I would spend a whole lot more time there. The pub itself is beautiful and homely with large outside spaces out the front and back, and if the pig is anything to go by, Heath and his team have the food covered. And you never know, it may even have been good enough to draw this South East Londoner back to North London.

The Red Lion and Sun - 25 North Road, London N6 4BE