Saturday morning, I eat pizza for breakfast. I could have fried up some eggs like a normal person. But the pizza was calling me. I don’t know why exactly. It just was. I’d say it probably all started the evening before when I got hammered on Veurve Cliquot at the office, followed by a couple of…
Tag: foodstories
The Bach – Banana bread, almond matcha latte and an attempt to get my groove back.
“Excuse me”, I say to the waiter walking past. “Is this Matcha latte made with cows milk?” “It is” he replies, “but that’s cool, we can make one of fresh for you, are you staying in? Sit down. Relax. Take a load off. Do you want soy, almond or oat milk?” “Almond milk please. You…
The fast disappearing sour cherry chocolate cake – and how to make it.
My favourite cake to bake is a sour cherry chocolate cake. It’s my go to cake for all occasions. Dinner parties, birthdays, bereavements. It’s a one (ish) bowl wonder. Chuck it all in, mix it up and Bob’s your uncle. It never disappoints, and is always a winner. Quick, delicious, and fairly idiot proof. I…
Padella – Where if you concentrate really hard, you can taste the sweat of the pasta maker.
A few nights ago I went with a friend to visit Padella. I had been meaning to pay them a visit for a while, but had always been dissuaded by the queue which snaked most nights in an orderly line down the street. Even on a Monday. I’m really not a fan of queues, and…
Victor Montes – Pintxo in Bilbao AKA. Unidentifiable things on baguette.
Victor Montes is definitely a must when visiting Bilbao. You really get everything you’re looking for. A fantastic humming atmospere, delicious Spanish wine, and a bar top laden with traditional Basque style pintxo. If you don’t speak Spanish you also get some hilarious lost in translation moments thrown in for free. It was all pretty fantastic…
Brasserie Malherbe and the salads that just keep on giving.
Allow me to introduce you to Brasserie Malherbe. It sits on the corner of the main road and one of the main lane-ways (there are two) in a small town in the South of France. The town is called La Saint Maximin la Sainte Baume. It’s mostly know for it’s devotion to Mary Magdalene who was…
Cakes at the Caumont centre d’art, and an unwanted Turner exhibition.
On our second last day in Aix en Provence, we accidentally went to a Turner exhibition. ‘Accidentally’ is overstating it. We intentionally walked there, and obediently bought our tickets at the entrance. Happily walked through the lovely rooms full of elegant furniture. Took an obligatory mirror selfie. And wound our way up and down a…
Korcarz – A hunt for the latke of our dreams, and Rabbi Yosef’s advice.
About ten years ago, I spent a weekend in Paris with my parents. I remember that it was the middle of winter, just before Christmas. To say that it was cold would be and understatement. It was ccccooooolllllddd. My mum insisted that we ride around the city on the top open air part of a…
Le Bouillon Chartier
We cross the lights on Rue du Faubourg-Montmartre in the 9th arrondissement, and Bouillon Chartier rises up to greet us. A monolith from another time and place. I’m only in the courtyard but I feel like I might be whisked away from the entrance in a ’20s style Rolls Royce a la Woody Allen’s ‘Midnight in Paris’…
Mildred’s Vegetarian Soho – A flavourful taste sensation
I once spent six months as a vegetarian. It was a reaction to working in the kibbutz kitchen when I lived in Israel. My job, especially on a Friday before the Sabbath, was to lop the limp, dangly necks off a few hundred chickens, and stuff a mixture of potatoes, herbs and spices up their…
Moro – A North African and Spanish style riot of flavours AKA. Post work-out treat
On Wednesday I went to a HIIT class. For the uninitiated, that’s High Intensity Interval Training, involving squats, push ups, dumbbells and so on. Basically, some guy with more steel than Robocop yells “You can do better!” while you run around like a demented hamster, sweat every last bit of salt out of your body,…
Gaby’s Deli – A delicious capsule within time’s changing landscape.
1971 was the year that decimal currency was launched, the first Mr Men books were published, one of my favourite TV crushes Damien ‘he’ll always be Soames to me’ Lewis was born and a fresh pound of turkey (apparently!) cost fourty pence. It was also the year that Gaby opened his eponymous deli on Charing Cross road,…
thatdayigothungry 