Archive for

Jan 15

Burger and Lobster

Monopoly players across the world will recognise Mayfair as the uber expensive dark blue site which the most prudent property developer should aim to develop with little plastic green houses and fat red hotels should they wish to sweep the board of this favourite winter’s weekend family game. And in reality, the real Mayfair has existed in parallel to its board game namesake, boasting amongst the most valuable reality in London, from lavish luxury hotels including the Ritz, and refined shopping such as Fortnum and Masons, and swanky car showrooms, packed to the rafters with private drinks receptions of the well healed and fur-wrapped gentry, to private members clubs aplenty and restaurants whose prices are conspicuous by their absence from well-bound menus.

Yet in a city where ambition is the fuel which keeps the big urban pump grinding, and the lavish lifestyle of the London yuppy class predominates as the ultimate aspiration for career ladder climbers and socialites alike, Mayfair is as ever the ultimate in London hangouts, but one which is becoming more and more accessible as a place for everyone with a little taste to embrace the highlife. Take Fortnums, the refined department store, which last Christmas reported its best ever sales in the shops 300 or so year history, swamped by the thousands who decided to prioritise the traditions of a heritage Christmas, despite the economic downturn all around us.

Fortnum and Masons

Then there is Burger and Lobster, the location of my dinner tonight. The name just about says it all. You can have burger, or lobster, or both (or lobster in a brioche roll). That’s the extent of it (hence why perhaps their website is so decidedly bare). The dishes are £20 each. Simples, as the meerkats would have it. Yet for your highly reasonable £20, you get a lobster which is so meaty, and so decidedly unfiddly, that you barely need that funny little fork thing that comes with lobster, and can munch on the freshly grilled flesh to your heart’s desire, along with the moorish salad and chips which accompany it.

The eponymous lobster

Burger and Lobster, Mayfair

So need Mayfair be monopolised by the dark blue hue of extravagant wealth? Apparently not. Our dinner tonight was excellent value, and came accompanied by a healthy portion of salted caramel cheesecake and some bubbles, all billing at around £40 per person. The only slight snag is you can’t book ahead. We went along shortly after 6pm and at that time had an hour to wait, but this was conveniently filled by some quail eggs and wine at Fortnum’s local winebar – a suitable restoration for two lawyers after a full days work of legal wrangling.

Shanaz’s lobster roll

Cassandra’s grilled lobster

So for your fill of mid-week extravagance, head along to one of Burger and Lobster’s 4 London branches (Soho, Mayfair, Farringdon, City), and if you do have to wait for a table, fill the waiting time (in Mayfair at least) with a drink in Fortnums, a guilty peek at nearby Laudurée’s delectable macaron selection or, if you’re really lucky, why not pop into the Royal Academy, Mayfair’s pre-eminant art establishment, where a Manet blockbuster is due to open its doors within days.

I leave this post with some shameless self-promotion – my paintings of lobsters (sans burgers) – just to get you in the mood 🙂

The Gentleman (in Paris) 2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, acrylic on canvas

Joie de Vivre/ Zest of Life 3: Casino Nights (2005 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, acrylic on canvas)

Nicholas in the Renaissance (detail) (2008 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, oil on canvas)

Goodnight!

Fortnum & Mason has record-breaking Christmas (telegraph.co.uk)
Food Glorious Food: Burger & Lobster (onefinestay.com)

Jan 14

6 Comments

Pizzetta by Polpo

It’s official, I’ve gone Polpo-loco. Following Saturday’s octopussy success, on Sunday I went Pizzetta crazy, producing some 12 mini pizzas as inspired by the London eatery Polpo‘s glorious cookbook which was undoubtedly my favourite Christmas gift this year.

I was a little put off by the prospect of making my own dough, what with a day of painting ahead and a pile of Sunday-night ironing to get through and very little time for kitchen disasters. However, the toppings were almost too tempting to bare, and there was no way I was going to contaminate the fine flavours with a shop-bought pizza base. So, following the Polpo recipe, I set about making my pizzetta dough which, as it turned out, was as easy as it was enjoyable – all that kneading was both a stress reliever and January workout for the arms, which is good, because two weeks in and my new year’s resolution to workout daily is failing abominably.

My dough, ready to go…

To make the dough, you just take 500g of strong white flour, and mix this in a bowl with 300ml of tepid water, 15g of salt (2 teaspoons) and a 7g sachet of fast action dried yeast (or 15g if you can get your hands on fresh). Once mixed into a ball, you knead the dough for about 10 minutes on a floured surface, stretching the dough and then bringing it back into a ball, doing this again and again until the dough feels springier. I kneaded mine while watching Francesco Di Mosto’s BBC Venice series – a perfect accompaniment to my Venetian culinary adventure.

Once kneaded, place your dough in a bowl covered with oiled clingfilm and leave somewhere warm until the dough doubles in size (at least 30 minutes). Then, divide the dough into 12 pieces and roll out each into an approx. 20 cm disk and then get creative with your toppings. I tried the following…

Prosciutto & Asparagus and Zuccini, Chilli and Mint

Pizzetta Bianca and Anchovy, olive and basil

Spinach with a soft-cooked egg

Mortadella with gherkins and blue cheese/ Salami Milano with fennel

Rosemary and potato/ Prosciutto, mushroom and blue cheese

Salami, sundried tomatoes and torn basil

The combinations above are pretty self-explanatory, and who needs a recipe when you have the blank canvas of pizza dough before you. But a few tips: I started off with a basic cheese base of half grated parmesan and a scattering of good quality mozzarella. Don’t overload your pizzetta with cheese or they will be soggy.

If potato and rosemary is your thing, thinly slice a potato and blanch the potato in boiling water for about 30 seconds before placing on the pizza. Do the same with the asparagus if using it with prosciutto as above. The spinach combination is a large handfull of wilted spinach chopped with half a clove of finely chopped garlic and a tablespoon of creme fraiche – cover your pizzetta base with the spinach mix and crack an egg over the top before placing straight in the oven – be sure not to overcook – that egg needs to be nice and runny. Oh, and don’t forget to season your pizzas as you would any other food, and a good douse of olive oil certainly adds the magic touch just before serving.

Re cooking, restaurant ovens are around 300C. My oven only goes up to 275C which was good enough – but make sure you heat your baking trays before hand so the base of the pizzetta’s go nice and crispy. Each pizza should only take around 6 minutes.

These pizzetta’s are so easy to make and somehow less daunting than full sized pizzas. Plus, you get to sample a more varied palate of delicious Italian ingredients in a single meal. Buon appetito!

Polpo by Polpo (daily-norm.com)

Jan 12

3 Comments

Polpo by Polpo

It took me almost a week to take down my Christmas decorations. What with last weekend being my partner’s 30th, I had to risk superstition and undress each Christmas tree, one evening at a time this week after work. Finally, on Thursday night, I put away the last strand of tinsel and wrapped the last of my vast bauble collection and started turning my mind to the summer.

It’s not the easiest of tasks when a glimpse outside of the window presents a vision of dreary grey England, leafless trees straining to hold onto their roots in a blustery winter wind, and people wrapped head to toe in their winter woolies. Yet while the eyes may face the disappointment of a continuing wintery outlook, the other senses remain open to the invitation of an early summer. And so, to my kitchen I have headed, ready to tempt my taste buds and my nose with the smells and flavours of a verdant green and azul blue summer. For in my opinion, there is nothing quite like bringing the food of the Mediterranean into your home to kick away those winter blues.

At Christmas I received a beautifully presented cookbook (after much well-placed hinting), Polpo, a book of Venetian-based cuisine flaunting the flavours of that deeply charismatic little island and the delicate tastes of the Adriatic beyond. The book is a collection of recipes from the London based eatery of the same name, whose philosophy is simple: to capture the essence of the Venetian backstreets, where quaint little bacari serve a plethora of deceptively simple but delicious Italian treats.

I couldn’t wait to delve into this book, littered as it is with sumptuous views of Venice, and offering some 140 recipes inspired by the dazzling city. It is perhaps no coincidence that the first recipe I tried was the very thing that the restaurant was named after: octopus, or polpo. However, it wasn’t actually the book which engendered this desire to eat polpo. Rather, having spent the last two nights occupied in another of my winter-beating activities, looking for summer holidays, my search through holiday deals in the South of France and the Italian riviera brought to mind a delicious yet simple dish of polpo with potatoes which I devoured, with a glass of chilled prosecco, in San Vincenzo in Tuscany last summer. This was my inspiration, and to my great pleasure, Polpo had a recipe which was perfect in fulfilling my desire to recreate that hot July day in January.

San Vincenzo’s version of the salad

and the Prosecco

So, to make a warm octopus salad, you need (for 4 persons) a medium sized octopus. Frozen is as good as any, not least because this helps to tenderise the flesh. I got mine from the local fishmongers, although it was Spanish in origin, and weighed in at 1.5kg. Defrost the octopus (and if it’s not frozen, consider freezing it first to get it nice and tender) and place in a large pan of unsalted water with a couple of roughly chopped celery sticks, the stalks of a bunch of parsley, an onion chopped in half, and a fennel bulb also chopped in half. This should be simmered for around 40-60 minutes until a fork can easily pierce the flesh. Mine was closer to 40 mins. Watch out you don’t overcook it.

Meanwhile, peel and chop 3-4 waxy potatoes into bite sized pieces and simmer until cooked. Again make sure these aren’t over cooked. They need to hold their shape, not crumble.

Beautiful raw octopus

The octopus cooking

When the octopus is done, chop it into bite sized pieces, removing the eyes, claw etc if you still have them on, and remove as much of the slimey under skin layer if you can (you can leave the nice pink skin around the tentacles – it’s the best bit). Rinse these pieces under clean warm water and place in a large bowl with your cooked potatoes, a finely chopped clove of garlic, a handful of chopped parsley, a teaspoon of dried chilli flakes, a good glug of good quality olive oil (mine comes direct from said town in Tuscany) and the juice of around half a lemon. Season well and serve.

Cooked

And chopped

The finished dish

The flavours of the Med (and Venice, I suppose) are just sublime, and guaranteed to brighten any cold winter’s day with the thoughts of the summer. Right, I’m off to book that summer holiday…

Jan 8

7 Comments

Duck & Waffle – a combination worth climbing 40 floors for

There are restaurants, and then there are Restaurants. You have your bog-standard local, great for a catch-up with friends, a quick snack when lunching alone, or a dinner when you really can’t be bothered to cook. But then there are the Restaurants – the crème de la crème of gastronomic performance, where a reservation is a date with the chef, a ticket at food theatre, or a seat in a location which dazzles like a cinematic display of visual glory. It was to one such gastronomically glorious location that I headed at the weekend, in celebration of my partner’s 30th birthday, which clearly called for something special. And where does one go to celebrate such a magnificent (if not daunting!) event, to mark the ascension to the ripe old years of proper, responsible adulthood? Why, I could think of no better than to ascend the dizzying heights of London’s newest skyscraper: The Heron, upon which, at the dazzling 40th floor, sits the Duck & Waffle restaurant, in a supper sleek, panorama-spectacular glass cube all of its own.

This was a super-exciting event. I’d kept the reservation a secret, but knew nothing of the restaurant itself except that the views promised to be nothing short of spectacular. So ascending from Liverpool Street station, and catching my first glimpse of the heroically high tower which was to be the location of our dinner made for quite an eye-full. As we passed the foot of the huge glass tower, and saw within the main foyer a fish tank bigger than my entire flat, I knew that we were in for a treat. And soon, thereafter, did my partner, as I took a sharp turn into the building that was to be the host of his birthday treat, and we ascended, at super-sonic pace, all 40 floors up to the restaurant. The speed not only made our stomach’s lurch, but the visual spectacle as street turned to streets and district turned to entire glittering city struck us both pretty dumb with awe. Almost shaking as we reached the top, I managed to vocalise the name of our reservation, before we passed through a bar, where a plummeting orange glass spiral staircase overlooked (yes, that’s overlooked) the shorter Gherkin tower to stunning effect, and into the restaurant.

The interior

Most tables benefit from the great view

The restaurant is surrounded on three sides by an unbeatable panorama which extends so far over London that the horizon blurs with the sky and all you can see is a galaxy of twinkles. From our beautiful window-side table, we looked straight onto the Gherkin, and beyond Tower Bridge, under which the Thames snaked its way towards the towers of Canary Wharf from where the view grew misty. In fact by dessert the whole view had gone rather misty – I think we may have found ourselves in a cloud. Anyway, I digress. The interior is funky and modern, with a golden yellow ceiling which appears to be rippling, and an open kitchen which allows you to check out what the busy chefs are up to.

Our view with chef reflected

and again

The great thing about the restaurant is that for the views, it’s very unpretentious. The menu is even affordable, and the whole outfit is quite casual and trendy. The food is served in a tapas style – the intention is to share dishes which range from snack-sized bites, sushi-style raw fish and a range of mediterranean breads, to cold cuts and speciality mains including the restaurant namesake, duck and waffle. The dishes then come as and when they are ready which, in our case, was sequenced pretty much in size order starting with the snacks, bread and raw fish and ending with the duck.

Our table!

We went for 6 dishes spread from across the menu. We started with dates wrapped in bacon with a creamy mustard side sauce – the flavours were so good I could have eaten a whole basket full of these things. From the breads, we went for a garlic and rosemary foccacia. The smells immediately transported us to Italy’s mediterranean coast, and the flavours were deliciously pungent and well seasoned, although the bread itself was a bit doughy in the middle. Onto the raw fish – exquisite strips of tuna, served with a small cube of watermelon, a tiny basil leaf and drizzled with a balsamic glaze which made for a perfect balance of flavour. As ever, the aromatic basil won me over as it does in most food combinations.

Onto the slightly bigger choices, we had a sizzling baked golden beetroot dish which was accompanied by creamy goat’s curd and honeycomb – so good, although the delicious honeycomb did tend to cling onto my teeth with unnecessary enthusiasm. We also had a deliciously spanish octopus cooked with chorizo. However the best dish of all had to be the trademark duck and waffle. Oh my goodness, the very thought of that dish makes me salivate like the Niagara Falls. A Belgian-style waffle was topped with an unctuous leg of duck and a gooey fried egg, over which one poured (to taste) an ambrosial syrupy nectar which appeared to be maple syrup with mustard seeds giving a slightly fiery, textured edge. The dish was so delicious, and the syrup so exquisitely sinful that I actually ended up drinking the residual syrup straight from the jug (no one was looking!). I would walk the 40 floors to get to that dish if I had to!

The famous duck and waffle

We ended our evening with two selections from a great dessert choice. My partner had gooey chocolate brownies, again with honeycomb and peanut butter icecream. I had a spiced pear “cappuccino” which was a pear syrup and froth, spiced, with chunks of pear and gingerbread – very festive and just about appropriate as it was the 12th day of Christmas.

And so ended our fantastic night. This restaurant is a must for those who love a good view. It is simply mind-blowing. The food is not overly expensive, although it can mount up if you have too many dishes (which is the temptation – the portions aren’t that large). The wines are expensive though. The cheapest bottle of red I could find was £40 so we opted for a couple of glasses instead. The main drawback for me was the fact that the open kitchen was very smoky. The aromas of all the cooking, grilling and frying were very cloying in the air which is not ideal for an enclosed glass space – like frying bacon inside a hot greenhouse. This left us smelling quite heavily of fried food when we left. But we weren’t overly bothered. That view will stay with us for much longer, and as for the lift journey down, we took the lift up and down about 3 times – it was like a fairground ride with the best ever view – priceless!

It was a long way up…

The staircase in the bar – check out the gherkin outside

Details of the Duck & Waffle can be found here. Allegedly they’re open 24/7 so if you ever happen to be strolling through the city at 3am (which won’t be such a novelty for the city lawyers I know) that syrupy duck treat will lift your spirits in no time.

Jan 6

9 Comments

On the Twelfth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me…

…twelve drummers drumming

It’s 6 January, the 12^th day of Christmas, and the crowds are out in force in Spain. Huge parades fill the streets, floats covered with flowers and Norms dressed as kings. Sweets are being thrown from the floats, littering the air like edible confetti, and on the roadside, little Norm children are scrambling to have their fill. This is not just any day, in the Christian world it’s the Epiphany, and in Spain and across South America, it’s “El Dia de los Reyes – the 3 Kings Festival! However this year, in one Spanish town, it’s not the floats containing the 3 kings which are getting all of the attention, but one particular float, upon which sits closely bound a Norm-man and a Norm-woman, happily in love, surrounded by 12 drummers celebrating their love-filled reunion…

…it’s Normy and Normette!

On the Twelfth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me, 12 drummers drumming (© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, pen on paper)

Yes, Normette is back! How could she possibly have resisted? Just one thought of those 11 pipers piping with their little tartan kilts, and what could possibly lay beneath (underwear or, as tradition dictates, au naturel) had her bouncing back to the UK as fast as the Eurostar to London could carry her (and to be fair, it does go quite fast). Why did she ever leave the fair rolling green pastures of the English lands, the verdant landscapes, the tartan fabrics, tea at 5 and of course Downton Abbey? But most of all, she had missed someone irreplaceable in her life, who had travelled up and down the UK just in an attempt to lure her back to him – why Normy of course.

In fact once they were reunited, Normette realised that it wasn’t really the UK she had missed at all, but dear Normy, and having taken one look at the rainy weather, she booked them both on a trip to Sunny Spain. And once there, what should they find, but the 3 Kings Festival itself. What better way to give Normette one final gift on the 12^th day of Christmas, thought Normy, than to jump up on a float and celebrate their love surrounded by 12 drummers and a crowd of cheering admirers (Normette did miss her Moulin Rouge celebrity after all).

And so it is upon this moment of celebration and jubilation that on the 12^th day of Christmas, we leave our lovers to it, back together, adoring, and ready to face the New Year as one. Here’s to a great 2013!!!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

On the First day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Second day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Third day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Fourth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Fifth day of Chritsmas my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Sixth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Seventh day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Eighth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Ninth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Tenth day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)
On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me… (daily-norm.com)

Jan 3

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On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my Normy gave to me…

…eleven pipers piping

It’s been several days since Normy made the mistake of introducing Normette to the glamorous razzmatazz of the Moulin Rouge, and she has still not come home. Not even since receiving Normy’s tantalising glimpse of 10 Lords-a-leaping over the boundary fences of Downton Abbey. How could she have resisted those bucksome young Norms, with all their wealth and privilege?! But no, Normette continues to thrive in the nocturnal shadows of the relentless revolution of Paris’ most famous red windmill. In fact so skilled a cabaret star has Normette become, that she has gone from Can-Can chorus-girl to show starlet, and the other day she even appeared on the front of the Paris Match, and it’s rumoured she will be invited onto the Ellen DeGeneres show any day now.

So with all this in mind, Normy, who is keenly aware that the 12^th day of Christmas is fast approaching, has taken drastic measures to try and lure Normette back to the UK. In fact he traipsed all the way up to Bonny Scotland, to Edinburgh Castle, notorious location of New Year’s Eve celebrations, and on the very same night managed to persuade 11 hardy Norm bag-pipers to pose for a picture which he will now send to Normette (there were originally 14 on hand to play, but since Normy only wanted 11 for Normette’s 11^th present, he got 3 drunk on Scotch Whisky, which turned out to be a pretty easy task). How can Normette possibly resist that Scottish charm, those flighty little tartan kilts, and those amazing furry hats? And the great advantage of this being a mere photo of the pipers, is that Normette needn’t hear the terrible drone of the bagpipes which poor Normy had to endure for some hours…!