tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77291343718162792752024-02-21T03:40:24.249+00:00hungry in cardiffA blog dedicated to food and dining out in cardiff.hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-89549575255901550442012-06-24T17:25:00.001+01:002012-06-24T17:39:29.142+01:00The Plough<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">'The plough' or 'A long rant about Whitchurch' or 'half-arsed' you decide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whitchurch is well away on its march to become the new Pontcanna.
The overpaid media wankers of that area have allowed some excellent restaurants
such as Bullys, The new Conway and Fish at 85 to set up shop, and now Whitchurch has decided to
replicate Pontcanna’s success. Only this time the effort is far more half
arsed. That solid Whitchurch stalwart Villagio is still doing what it does best;
providing simple, cheap and excellent Italian to an appreciative and loyal
customer base. The Thai upstairs is often great, the only shame being that
it’s on the top floor and you can’t see in as too often we’ve visited to find
ourselves the only people there, and that’s always unpleasant. The village
kitchen was for a long time overpriced for a local restaurant, the cooking
however being very good. They’ve seen to this with some generous offers and a
decent sunday lunch which now make it a good choice for a meal out with friends. I’m pleased
to see that Medittaranio is presently closed, but I can only hope for good. The
old Saturday lunch offer was the only thing that made eating there worthwhile
was scrapped a long time ago. Then along came the Fino lounge, greeted with
great excitement by myself as I enjoyed their Bristol operations so much. But
alas, like so much of Whitchurch it was again half-arsed. The menus are a
delight to read but too often what arrives on your plate is a disgrace. The
only real success of recent is to be found at Deli-a-go go. It’s to my shame
that I don’t visit enough as the food and produce is excellent, and long may it
thrive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This all leads us to Whitchurch’s newest opening (or
re-opening if you like) The Plough. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Modelled
on the mega-successful re-launch of The Maltsters in Llandaff. I’ve visited the
Maltsters a few times before the re-fit and found an empty miserable, moribund
place. The re-fit worked perfectly for a place like Llandaff and offers good
pub grub with a good pub atmosphere, a Cinderella story if you like. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Brains have rightly tried to copy its success with the
Plough, but have made a very half-arsed effort of it. The Plough was a strange
place in some ways. It was by far the most overpriced and expensive pub in
Whitchurch. The chairs were uncomfortable, the music shit and the bogs were just
that, bogs. It was however the most popular and beloved place in Whitchurch to
an awful lot of people. Weekends you couldn’t move in there and the place took
money hand over fist, so it would seem an odd choice for Brains to change.
Granted the place needed a re-fit but a complete rebranding?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This however is a food blog and since Brains
have opened a half-arsed gastro pub, then it’s about the half-arsed gastro bit
that I will write, and todays Sunday lunch spurred me into action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We visited a few
weeks ago and had a very pleasant beef Sunday <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>lunch, the only down side to it being the
boiled spuds served in place of roasted (a very, very odd choice that only
harks to a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>kitchen not prepared to go
the whole hog) The beef was tender and piled high, the veg plentiful. Today I
went for the same thing and it came with the same boiled spuds. This time though
the beef was inedible, un-cutable even. The friendly manager was apologetic and
returned the dish to the kitchen, but what came back was exactly the same. I
hate the obvious discomfort of complaining but it is entirely necessary to
allow a place to address concerns at the time, if you intend to write the sort
of shit that I do on my blog. However, one complaint should be enough, along
with the fact that a plate full of beef went back to the kitchen unfinished. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Another previous experience of eating there summed up
everything I mean when I say that the new Plough is a poor half-arsed attempt
at taking money from the well to do folk of Whitchurch. I ordered a starter of
crab cakes, that would have been very good had it not been for a cloying,
treacle like sweet chilli sauce that killed off any taste of crab, and the
slate it was served on made me hate the dish before I even tasted it. We eat
with our eyes first and foremost and this dish had me reaching for the fork,
not to eat the dish, but to gouge the eyeballs out of my face. The main had the
misses forcibly removing the fork from my hand for fear we’d soon own a guide
dog. A perfectly good burger was proper pub grub, but the limp and floppy chips
should never have been described as fries. The dish should have read “Burger
with abomination” and just to piss me off further the food came perched on a
piece of driftwood, making the whole thing an ’it’s a knockout’ style task for
the poor waitress to carry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The new Conway in Pontcanna was once a local boozer to the
people of that area, and some people quite rightly felt pissed off when it was
turned into a gastropub<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">. </b>They though
got in return some exceptional cooking<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">.</b>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We Plough regulars haven’t been so well
compensated. Serving food on slate and bits of wood doesn’t make the food
innovative or exciting. It shows a place trying to draw the customer’s
attention away from the fact they’re being served average food.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The local British
boozer is and always has been the absolute heart and soul of the British
community, and Brains in their misguided effort to make more profit have torn part
of the heart and soul from Whitchurch, and in return given us a half-arsed
eatery. The bar out front was once a Bustling hot bed of banter, it’s now a
banal, and boring bar for the elderly and once a month drinkers. The front of
the pub where you could once see hundreds of people drinking in the sun and
vying for a seat on the wall to watch the world go by has been filled with uncomfortable
four seater tables <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that make for insular
conversation a world away from the gregarious place that once existed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In summary, Brains have made a complete balls up of the once
mighty Plough. When they threw out the old furniture they threw out the one
thing that made the Plough special and that was the people that drank there.
The only thing that for me personally would make up for that loss, is three Michelin
starred food and not the average pub grub that the place now serves. It must be
obvious to you by now that this is a very personal review as I’ve lost a
treasured place in my life, but speaking objectively about the place as a
restaurant I have to say that it just doesn’t come up to standard. The food doesn’t
in any way deserve the prices that are charged, and were this not so personal a
place I would never have written about it. My blog is intended entirely to
inform the reader of places they must visit, or must avoid; the plough is
neither of these. Eat here if you must but for the money I’d take the short
walk to Villagio or pop into Deli-a-go go for a scotch egg.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway, writing this has been for me a cathartic experience,
but for anyone reading this who is looking for a place to eat in Whitchurch I
offer this advice. If you want Italian then visit Villagio. If you want Indian
then head straight to Kafe-la, but if you want pub grub then flag down a taxi
and head to the new Conway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-53078863959042007772012-02-12T14:40:00.003+00:002012-02-12T14:56:55.436+00:00Park House Club<div class="MsoNormal">Park House Club</div><div class="MsoNormal">20 Park place</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cardiff</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cf10 3DQ</div><div class="MsoNormal">02920 224343</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">www.parkhouseclub.com</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheN8RQ6Z9hvc11aNzS9y0c0q2lG6A71aG3HMKcFw7CKsHwd_sM6K6Gz6-lBat07cta0teqZoHpagLEnhuG29VBKuZ0hL5zpsE_vmSgjcZKs_7JNWVdnhrL07RdkXGupRZjDICDmb_U-myw/s1600/Park-House-Club-Cardiff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheN8RQ6Z9hvc11aNzS9y0c0q2lG6A71aG3HMKcFw7CKsHwd_sM6K6Gz6-lBat07cta0teqZoHpagLEnhuG29VBKuZ0hL5zpsE_vmSgjcZKs_7JNWVdnhrL07RdkXGupRZjDICDmb_U-myw/s320/Park-House-Club-Cardiff.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The approach to this grand old building is a daunting one. Two giant closed wooden doors aren’t the most welcome of greetings to this former private members club. The lady who opened the doors and greeted us by name before we even knocked was however incredibly welcoming. A trait that was present amongst all the staff. Coats were taken and we were led through to the bar for some excellent value prosecco, and a great canapé of sesame coated duck rilette with a tiny quail’s egg perched on top. It didn’t make for elegant eating as the runny yolk squirted everywhere, but who cares, it tasted great.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkop1V8QLuZgXyr4YJtEqtPbwKLTAMKKw55A5GnHG3cc07Oryy6sN18LoMms2SiecdjV8wDnOySZpvuh5fy-n6yjhypf55LEgk5QDz00rcTgCBTG0M98AaNhC04Zc2Gez3yFfFOuX0rJlp/s1600/IMAG0761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkop1V8QLuZgXyr4YJtEqtPbwKLTAMKKw55A5GnHG3cc07Oryy6sN18LoMms2SiecdjV8wDnOySZpvuh5fy-n6yjhypf55LEgk5QDz00rcTgCBTG0M98AaNhC04Zc2Gez3yFfFOuX0rJlp/s200/IMAG0761.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6CdJNIm_-ZeMUMRfaAQC0X9lQWWNvHoaAZKR1srglGRpQ11qeZBaXYS6LiIF429Jm5EgZyR4kGFKIpoXWVxchi8GtDxZ52onDM-4moh1Hj6f9OrW1xiSBxJHm_zJOnODsLPSUjdrpdXZw/s1600/IMG_1353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6CdJNIm_-ZeMUMRfaAQC0X9lQWWNvHoaAZKR1srglGRpQ11qeZBaXYS6LiIF429Jm5EgZyR4kGFKIpoXWVxchi8GtDxZ52onDM-4moh1Hj6f9OrW1xiSBxJHm_zJOnODsLPSUjdrpdXZw/s200/IMG_1353.JPG" width="149" /></a><br />
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Time passes slowly in this old manner house. Nothing is rushed, and our half seven booking became eight thirty before our starters arrived. This was after a stunning amuse of Jerusalem artichoke soup with crab. The misses and I had opted for the taster menu at £55. A far better deal than the A la carte option, as this place isn’t cheap. Starters are all around the £10 mark and mains up in the £20’s. Quite keen pricing for Cardiff, so you’d expect the cooking to be top notch. Luckily for us it mostly was. I’d asked to change my starter from a risotto to the snails, but the misses hadn’t so we got to taste an extra dish. The snails were plentiful and cooked long enough to be almost al dente, just like the conchiglie “shells” they were served with, a tasty little joke from the chef. The misses risotto was flawless, topped with slow cooked egg and mushrooms.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Next up was for us the only failure of the evening, the fish course. Miso marinated white fish (we were told it was cod, but I’m still unsure) was too much for the <span lang="EN">Ichthyophobic misses, but also for me, served with a flabby wet skin and a cloyingly thick larver sauce. A slice of beetroot did nothing to lighten the dish and both plates went back unfinished. I’ve eaten Grady Atkins food before at the now extinct Le Galloise, and the only dish that sticks in my memory from way back then was also a fish dish. Again “white fish” was served but that time it was accompanied by a sake jelly. I ordered it because I’d never tasted a warm jelly before. It turned out that it wasn’t a warm jelly at all as it had half melted on the warm plate, and left the fish a soggy disappointing mess. Never mind, the chef more than made up for that disappointment with our next course.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbDEQCU8joOPBzN06jjUwSvJf2_g9mrzIzWwgr3Zt4xjwz8vPd3zR25pvQgul4ekQrBA1dLw2v_yozAbARsFf9fPwscflrvsV-pBRG8JScjsTKHQWLF3xCV-3rpVJc8fl0be9dnryIcTE/s1600/IMAG0765.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbDEQCU8joOPBzN06jjUwSvJf2_g9mrzIzWwgr3Zt4xjwz8vPd3zR25pvQgul4ekQrBA1dLw2v_yozAbARsFf9fPwscflrvsV-pBRG8JScjsTKHQWLF3xCV-3rpVJc8fl0be9dnryIcTE/s200/IMAG0765.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMh3onAaSRVtUGF3aCnK3nOzIei1037YVF8Kc-iTPWZZmLrYENd3H9MjEQwbEAv7hNzepPdF48itEwpPHGPTlLF7xAUHdQRODsrT8T2XtwbmbHE5krpOGLZCy5WJxea5NqQsrv6X7syyJu/s1600/IMG_1355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMh3onAaSRVtUGF3aCnK3nOzIei1037YVF8Kc-iTPWZZmLrYENd3H9MjEQwbEAv7hNzepPdF48itEwpPHGPTlLF7xAUHdQRODsrT8T2XtwbmbHE5krpOGLZCy5WJxea5NqQsrv6X7syyJu/s200/IMG_1355.JPG" width="149" /></a><span lang="EN">Main of Richard Vaughan middle white pork is quite possibly the best dish you’ll find in Cardiff at the moment. Two cuts, one providing a thick layer of melting fat, the other a firmer slice from elsewhere in the pig, served with a glasslike shard of crackling, a dense slice of suet, and most interestingly a smear of melted cheese. The cheese shouldn’t be there, but is of just the right proportion to add a sharpness to the pork, without the annoying sweetness that an apple usually provides. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN">A cheese course came next which we enjoyed over a chat with the, (and I apologise for the hyperbole but it’s necessary here) exceptional, delightful, credit to the restaurant not to mention the whole catering industry, hostess. I think her name is carolyna? And she does the restaurant proud, with the time she devoted to ourselves and the rest of the customers. In fact, all the staff here deserve to be applauded, from the poor girl sentenced to sit by the front door and greet us, to the waiters and maitre d’. The exceptional service is perfectly suited to the beautiful, grand setting, and the two do each other justice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEqtttX6_howSP4xYoyDxn-m6xcn6CPTlcg8I7TJN0JJc_Fe2J40w93kcI6-Yjd7lFz6aqmpJRxHR9_f5ZgEnUVDJn9VuF-AvyGGFg4LLm8Wh212YFMK4sYpuszE8FgRIb-3OBia8hpei/s1600/IMAG0766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEqtttX6_howSP4xYoyDxn-m6xcn6CPTlcg8I7TJN0JJc_Fe2J40w93kcI6-Yjd7lFz6aqmpJRxHR9_f5ZgEnUVDJn9VuF-AvyGGFg4LLm8Wh212YFMK4sYpuszE8FgRIb-3OBia8hpei/s200/IMAG0766.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vC5Rj-f0fgq1g3gOtQISB66XlBw2z0G4mi4I_1gCkZyU9BIvuHVp3iAF0W6VUzugFjSEkxKZpA3v1GL2AcPzuE7wt2uzP_l93oeo4NSM04uv1Yy30iHnOJwPDp9d9QirRGDc1ZyJTpNo/s1600/IMG_1356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vC5Rj-f0fgq1g3gOtQISB66XlBw2z0G4mi4I_1gCkZyU9BIvuHVp3iAF0W6VUzugFjSEkxKZpA3v1GL2AcPzuE7wt2uzP_l93oeo4NSM04uv1Yy30iHnOJwPDp9d9QirRGDc1ZyJTpNo/s200/IMG_1356.JPG" width="149" /></a><span lang="EN">Dessert of what was essentially a rhubarb and custard sweet in ice cream form, with what I assume was a sherry soaked honeycomb is just a hazy memory after we’d polished off a lovely bottle of well-priced red.( If you’re visiting it’s the Carignan Vielles Vignes, Alain Grignon, a steal at £21) but the perfect ending to an excellent meal. Grady Atkins is the closest us Cardiff folk have to a cleb’ chef. His welcome return to the city is to be applauded, and I wish him and the staff at the Park House every success. They’ve done well to open the doors to us proles, and in return they deserve our patronage. The A la carte menu, as I’ve said is prohibitively expensive to most of us, but the three course for £19 lunch is a bargain. I urge you to visit, and hope you enjoy it as much as we did. </span><o:p></o:p></div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-47046796975931562922011-10-08T15:57:00.003+01:002011-10-09T22:25:02.454+01:00Shaun Hill at Ffresh<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiko4q8AhbOXBLetQMx-in-qvye2vU2vinlcDE38IoPLkbreOJJqCEmmF84TK74REKfz0RnxBVfdfUIS50qmxfnElONCjhAridNGsFajZ4hSC6vK5oDKAt0bLl7Q3hv1CJkvoHb-Lt0cfyY/s1600/IMG_0969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiko4q8AhbOXBLetQMx-in-qvye2vU2vinlcDE38IoPLkbreOJJqCEmmF84TK74REKfz0RnxBVfdfUIS50qmxfnElONCjhAridNGsFajZ4hSC6vK5oDKAt0bLl7Q3hv1CJkvoHb-Lt0cfyY/s200/IMG_0969.JPG" width="149" /></a>If the British food world has national treasures, then Shaun Hill must surely be up there with Fergus Henderson and Heston. The ‘chefs chef’ has gone from Belfast, to London, Ludlow and Abergavenny picking up stars and plaudits along the way, and for one night only the Ffresh 2nd birthday party. I was invited along to the party with a host of other welsh bloggers, for a free meal in reward for my often rubbish writing.<br />
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The evening started with a lovely welsh sparkling wine and canapés of delicate, light cheese biscuits and heavy, heavenly, dense arancini, in the restaurants revamped bar.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nOxIdNtmsA2MUus_ZRS00qIJVHYR_Yb1YcufYGy1akbkHLA6hzUfbx83JnvOY8r74v7H1Z4keGMGIVzr_gOoARXV8riT6zPpKoAXlE_Ge8kPm69qWgvl0TRCDgW966p5Bf2UpGaavb2K/s1600/IMG_0971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">In the main restaurant I was lucky enough to be seated with an unobstructed view of the open kitchen and a smiling jolly Shaun Hill overseeing the restaurants head chef Kurt Flemming, and his small brigade.</span></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nOxIdNtmsA2MUus_ZRS00qIJVHYR_Yb1YcufYGy1akbkHLA6hzUfbx83JnvOY8r74v7H1Z4keGMGIVzr_gOoARXV8riT6zPpKoAXlE_Ge8kPm69qWgvl0TRCDgW966p5Bf2UpGaavb2K/s1600/IMG_0971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nOxIdNtmsA2MUus_ZRS00qIJVHYR_Yb1YcufYGy1akbkHLA6hzUfbx83JnvOY8r74v7H1Z4keGMGIVzr_gOoARXV8riT6zPpKoAXlE_Ge8kPm69qWgvl0TRCDgW966p5Bf2UpGaavb2K/s200/IMG_0971.JPG" width="149" /></a>The team kicked of the meal with a starter of Red mullet with Rachael’s crème fraiche. The fish was lovely and moist in a punchy anchovy sauce. I don’t know who Rachael is but let me tell you her crème fraiche kicks arse.<br />
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Onto the main of Shaun Hills partridge pudding, fondant potato and hispi cabbage. The dish hit the nose with the punch from the rich dark gravy. I’ve tasted many umami rich dishes, but this was the first dish that in a strange way, I smelt that fifth taste emanate from the sauce. The partridge pudding consists of small pieces of partridge and chicken in an eggy dough. I asked Shaun after the meal for the recipe but was too pissed to remember. I do however remember it tasted divine. The partridge leg and breast that accompanied it where though slightly underwhelming as was the fondant potato. The bird was too dry, and the potato needed salt and lacked the luxury that gives it the title of fondant.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazFztnwqSqlNeRvkq9ho-goGtByMj9h59TkCV50oYDX3ZYh7Ppk7iY5ysCdbyH9Fg4hwzY_PHK1nQrq9-gBzsvWv9X0bYcWKdppd5-0aJEKBmLb427AOxzmOREPmwVClXxPDKeN3iU32n/s1600/IMG_0975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazFztnwqSqlNeRvkq9ho-goGtByMj9h59TkCV50oYDX3ZYh7Ppk7iY5ysCdbyH9Fg4hwzY_PHK1nQrq9-gBzsvWv9X0bYcWKdppd5-0aJEKBmLb427AOxzmOREPmwVClXxPDKeN3iU32n/s200/IMG_0975.JPG" width="149" /></a>The desert however was luxury on a plate. Chocolate fondant did deserve the title but had sadly split open before it got to me, denying me the pleasure of breaking into it. A minor disappointment in an otherwise excellent desert. It came with a praline caramel and a vanilla ice cream, and made for a childlike adult dessert. A delicious way to end a fantastic evening.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq6-qIzIXkF0wB6MglUS1LfhIMI-LDXjiMqpsiwzW4ZMmvzuYNk-VESNG8UVWxx-4OSIS8mK9pd2wXF66aiBmJbvTQTQRW0T83hTCBq1ecKG-ge6MIVerEa2uiJYT3fY8Cd_0D-gOvcKN5/s1600/IMG_0976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq6-qIzIXkF0wB6MglUS1LfhIMI-LDXjiMqpsiwzW4ZMmvzuYNk-VESNG8UVWxx-4OSIS8mK9pd2wXF66aiBmJbvTQTQRW0T83hTCBq1ecKG-ge6MIVerEa2uiJYT3fY8Cd_0D-gOvcKN5/s200/IMG_0976.JPG" width="149" /></a>I’ve praised Ffresh on this blog before and it’s still in my opinion the best place to eat in the bay (an opinion I held long before they gave me a free meal might I add). The staff are fantastic and the restaurant has embraced an ethos of locality and terroir in their sourcing of ingredients that should stand as an example to a lot of other Cardiff eateries. They are proud of their connection with True taste Wales and are right to be. Were it not for this connection I wouldn’t have learnt that Wales produces beautiful red wine at Ancre hill estates. A meal and an education are a wonderful partnership. Finally I need to praise them for the idea of the guest chef evenings. Cardiff’s dining scene is still pretty (actually, very) dire, and I do hope that some of these chefs see what a craving we have here for better restaurants and perhaps take the leap of opening one up.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxR-K89Lmox46RwjC55fhkMfgZhahDahbkob5wPtpZQeo4XsQ8UpVzIx-w3gfhPpZYSA5shKkXSEgAWspr93vGU_7Fo4uZ9bQyVa6eHJdL38WkAMb9N7LQZApPc3fg1zArKGg6n1cxslN/s1600/IMG_0977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxR-K89Lmox46RwjC55fhkMfgZhahDahbkob5wPtpZQeo4XsQ8UpVzIx-w3gfhPpZYSA5shKkXSEgAWspr93vGU_7Fo4uZ9bQyVa6eHJdL38WkAMb9N7LQZApPc3fg1zArKGg6n1cxslN/s200/IMG_0977.JPG" width="149" /></a><br />
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<br />
This piece was written in part to gloat at those who weren’t there, but mainly for @dpmumbles , @niajon and all the staff at Ffresh for their wonderful hospitality. Thank you.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-6149323797300756962011-09-14T22:07:00.001+01:002011-10-08T16:15:15.057+01:00Hard timesMy apologies dear reader for the lack of posts recently. These are hard times for everyone, and eating out has had to take a back seat to more mundane things, like paying the bills. Luckily for me things are getting easier so I hope to be posting more reviews soon.<br />
My longing for fine dining and great food has put me in a reflective mood, so i'd like to share some pictures from the finest meal it's ever been my privilege to eat.<br />
If you're ever in Dublin I strongly suggest you try and eat at Thorntons restaurant. It's a one star restaurant offering two star food with three star service. I can't speak highly enough of the place.<br />
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<a href="http://www.thorntonsrestaurant.com/">http://www.thorntonsrestaurant.com/</a><br />
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Amuse bouche - Beetroot cured Halibut<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwRXeSN2iABmzG4USMkcq8737pLEZYaFeOb1SE7s2oi-_UWFhSvRFMcC-6aGC_D2FFXzBYhz-5apXu2ttNJTMtcBbfQWAonh6X_6JjH0Mh1wLc_H_-8E3OUK9gWSWCTJIbYqcQJUVjgSJ/s1600/IMG_0717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwRXeSN2iABmzG4USMkcq8737pLEZYaFeOb1SE7s2oi-_UWFhSvRFMcC-6aGC_D2FFXzBYhz-5apXu2ttNJTMtcBbfQWAonh6X_6JjH0Mh1wLc_H_-8E3OUK9gWSWCTJIbYqcQJUVjgSJ/s320/IMG_0717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Starter - Scallop three ways<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5ctJUdwAqEnIrn7I_pJEXLk3I9UPSZmCDe1pAGTcJb62kbmONs82IPZ3mcjR3lA6VYwOdv1AJdfXQIUFoGrgomj43kv5AFiE5YmglFo1KM0tC5PjdpT6JREloailFUBYRkN8Cm6qKGbI/s1600/IMG_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5ctJUdwAqEnIrn7I_pJEXLk3I9UPSZmCDe1pAGTcJb62kbmONs82IPZ3mcjR3lA6VYwOdv1AJdfXQIUFoGrgomj43kv5AFiE5YmglFo1KM0tC5PjdpT6JREloailFUBYRkN8Cm6qKGbI/s320/IMG_0718.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
Main - Loin of rabbit, Valhrona chocolate sauce<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg02_Jqv1Vl65zUkZ_ZvMIOsb29ZEdaBvK0FVCGpbpAORd8F8U1T1ANxXAqr5Qg95DRl2s7ahn5qFVJdQxcecdsLi3Q5olkBOvzRqBYQw0t4RSZuKFnm6Q9SlE8984UB9lZpw9aK09GFbOe/s1600/IMG_0719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg02_Jqv1Vl65zUkZ_ZvMIOsb29ZEdaBvK0FVCGpbpAORd8F8U1T1ANxXAqr5Qg95DRl2s7ahn5qFVJdQxcecdsLi3Q5olkBOvzRqBYQw0t4RSZuKFnm6Q9SlE8984UB9lZpw9aK09GFbOe/s320/IMG_0719.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Dessert - Warm Chocolate Fondant with Bergamot Marshmallow and Milk Sorbet (the smiley face on the marshmallow is 100yr old balsamic)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmU4nz9spxlcdTGj9sID6Oe6Imjmxk5Xt68SSx0N2Z3K2AW-WQN5dgZgXk2_S7nrw8V4vEPrShApQ66vCmQKy_2c2i6kBzNzb-92wSLtTLqcbpqHBXE8JQcm63HyTQKNWIljoHR3N0iUT5/s1600/IMG_0720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmU4nz9spxlcdTGj9sID6Oe6Imjmxk5Xt68SSx0N2Z3K2AW-WQN5dgZgXk2_S7nrw8V4vEPrShApQ66vCmQKy_2c2i6kBzNzb-92wSLtTLqcbpqHBXE8JQcm63HyTQKNWIljoHR3N0iUT5/s320/IMG_0720.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-54669704323401176762011-05-26T21:18:00.001+01:002011-09-14T22:23:43.110+01:00.cn.cn<br />
<br />
19/05/2011<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">228 City Road<br />
Cardiff </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">CF24 3JH<br />
029 2048 6688</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><a href="http://www.eatcn.co.uk/">http://www.eatcn.co.uk/</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCV5j3T1iz8zx9cZVMicIbrBBR2Q45bRlmZqAXRjV9Xjw81rdHSVXKZWESiKcaUEl5OAcJKjcTkeNP14-WJa98a1Be7-tBOXPeox7IoTPXpn9EqEzQEwHZrfTF04Tqr6GCA46r6TV6p5_/s1600/IMG_0793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCV5j3T1iz8zx9cZVMicIbrBBR2Q45bRlmZqAXRjV9Xjw81rdHSVXKZWESiKcaUEl5OAcJKjcTkeNP14-WJa98a1Be7-tBOXPeox7IoTPXpn9EqEzQEwHZrfTF04Tqr6GCA46r6TV6p5_/s320/IMG_0793.JPG" width="320" /></a>Stop what you're doing right now. Put down that pancake roll, and unhand that dim sum. I've got big news, Earth shattering news. Are you ready ?...........Cardiff has a new Chinese. While you take a moment to let what I’ve just told you sink in, let me explain it has the title of .cn and it can be found on City Rd. What's that you say? "So fucking what?”<br />
OK I’ll admit it's hard to find your way around some parts of the city through the MSG smog, but .cn is different. Not just because they've gone for something other than the usual 'Golden pandas anus' for a restaurant name, but it also sets itself apart as somewhere a little bit leftfield with the dishes it serves.<br />
This is authentic northern Chinese cuisine. How do I know this? Well firstly it says so on the front of the building, but secondly, a quick glance at the menu shows that they go the whole hog when it comes to meat eating. Nasty bits included. Now I know sod all about authentic Chinese cuisine other than they're not as squeamish when it comes to food as us westerners, so any "facts" provided in this review, most likely come from Google or Wikipedia, even if I do try and make out that I know what I'm talking about.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VX7vLQUzvtAwEa29mzq7sFdaqn4EmGt_Wa8gvejjNNxpMbjNci5Bs3djC9zEylEu_ujcviV0YDLGE3yzJoZ_4t0jKFaZHQSxgU9Ky3bkTutuiOuHYEC9paiR_Hb9c-7LJzqWJYmZiSwp/s1600/IMG_0790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VX7vLQUzvtAwEa29mzq7sFdaqn4EmGt_Wa8gvejjNNxpMbjNci5Bs3djC9zEylEu_ujcviV0YDLGE3yzJoZ_4t0jKFaZHQSxgU9Ky3bkTutuiOuHYEC9paiR_Hb9c-7LJzqWJYmZiSwp/s200/IMG_0790.JPG" width="200" /></a>When I entered the place it immediately felt Chinese from the music, to the staff, to the clientele, and when I sat down with the menu I was immediately transported back to my holiday in Beijing. I felt like showing off my impressively extensive knowledge of the Chinese language with words like hello, thank you, this and that, but realised I didn't even know what dialect those four words came from, and would've just looked a tit anyway. Instead I decided to order from the menu like a rich western tourist in a country like china, where literally skipfulls of food can be bought for less than the cost of a Greggs sausage roll. Somewhere in the back of my brain I knew I wasn't really in Beijing and that I was ordering far more food than my wallet usually allows for a lunch in Cardiff, but my belly took over. I'm sure I made for a pretty scary sight as I eagerly pointed out various dishes to the waiter. My smiling face contorted like Jack Nicholson's in The shining.<br />
The menu here is as extensive as you'll find at any Chinese restaurant, but presented differently. You wont see egg foo young in twenty variations, to be followed by chow mein in the same twenty variations, and so on through fried rice and sweet and sour. Here every dish is an individual in its own right. The menu is offal heavy to say the least, and makes delightful reading to offal lovers like myself.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguryWsETu9qtTuns4_g2FJva2zl9xAy2qkakf8PonWx2tFJOpEPnzmjL0n-phUnrm7bJgP-yA8JV2PO2EhX5YIAFLoqZcWlzyPI8C9XkImMkX6VmXUs469XqkIxL0CzQOTWLzzcGPyiViQ/s1600/IMG_0789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguryWsETu9qtTuns4_g2FJva2zl9xAy2qkakf8PonWx2tFJOpEPnzmjL0n-phUnrm7bJgP-yA8JV2PO2EhX5YIAFLoqZcWlzyPI8C9XkImMkX6VmXUs469XqkIxL0CzQOTWLzzcGPyiViQ/s200/IMG_0789.JPG" width="200" /></a>Pork lungs in chilli sauce and shredded beef tripe, sit in the same section on the menu as steamed chicken and shredded potato with fried chilli, so the less adventurous of you can still order happily. I though, was here to try something new and a plateful of duck tongues were the first dish to land on my table. Followed almost immediately by the pig tripe in chilli sauce and a steaming bowl of trotters. These were to be joined a little later by a plate of fantastic salt and chilli squid. The waiter asked if I wanted a bowl of rice, I didn't, but was so in awe at the feast in front of me that I just nodded yes, and began tucking in.<br />
There was no cutlery on the table, just chopsticks. I could have shown of my prowess with them, deftly picking up my food with immaculate precision, or perhaps pick a fly out the air Mr Miyagi style, but again I’d have just looked a tit. I've come to despise those people who persist in looking foolish holding chopsticks when the far greater invention of the knife and fork go unused. On more than one occasion in the Far East, I’ve been forced to crap into a hole in the floor. That custom thankfully hasn't been embraced in far eastern restaurants in Britain for precisely the same reason that we have a far better invention of the flushing toilet, but the chopstick thing persists with Brits keen to show how well travelled they are. Anyway, on my visit neither cutlery nor chopsticks were called for, as what I had ordered was the very definition of finger food.<br />
The duck tongues require you to slide the soft meat away from the small shovel shaped bone they sit on, and this is best done with fingers and teeth. Sucking each small morsel of meat off the bone and discarding the remnants. Soft tender chunks of meat with a hot chilli kick, eaten more like a snack than a proper dish. The tripe was served cold with the same chilli sauce and spicing as the tongues and had a slight resistance to the bite, though nowhere near as rubbery as my attempts at cooking stomach. Had I not known what it was I was eating, I would've assumed it to be cold, thinly sliced pork belly. The star of the show though were the trotters.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuG_iZZVMVeiKdMa0v5ApClVvGN50Lv3RW4UtYA_P6eqHN3Y21917AUvd4BV3bbz1JUl-VIN8Ghu8fPP52HraC0QxdpkEpAqjn4xBladXJFc_ZX3EwttOkce3jXKfrqdX858vepuYTYZO6/s1600/IMG_0791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuG_iZZVMVeiKdMa0v5ApClVvGN50Lv3RW4UtYA_P6eqHN3Y21917AUvd4BV3bbz1JUl-VIN8Ghu8fPP52HraC0QxdpkEpAqjn4xBladXJFc_ZX3EwttOkce3jXKfrqdX858vepuYTYZO6/s200/IMG_0791.JPG" width="200" /></a>You might find this hard to believe, but when I was in Beijing I did quite a lot of eating, and ate very well at that. Breakfasts of silky scrambled eggs piled high with shaved black truffle, all day champagne buffets, Daniel Bouluds signature foie gras stuffed burger all featured amongst many other heavenly delights. One day however, We stumbled upon a Szechwan place where we ordered the only dish that we would have to go back for that same trip. The only dish I can still taste when I think about it. A plate of trotters coated in a thick red sauce heavy with that lip numbing Szechwan heat. We devoured the gelatinous, sticky meat with fury. We went through so many tissues wiping the sauce from our hands and face that the restaurant offered us plastic gloves with which to handle the beasts. We left the table a scene of blood red splatters and piled high with bones, as if Tarrantino had guest directed a Crimewatch reconstruction.<br />
The trotters at .cn are more in tune with a western palate, coming coated in a brown gravy rather than that super-hot Szechwan red stuff, but are equally as melting and moreish. I mentioned this to the ever so pleasant and polite waiter, and was told to just ask for that red sauce the next time I visited and he'd get the kitchen to cook my trotters in that instead. I wanted to hug him for telling me that.<br />
The finale to my lunch was the salt and chilli squid, and it couldn't fail to please. A mixture of sliced squid and whole baby squid, battered and deep fried. Heavy on the salt but done to such a perfect level that it never reached the point where you find it too much to bear. A strangely pleasurable salty experience that showed the kitchen knew what they were doing, and that you're in safe hands when it comes to their cooking. The baby squid could be eaten in one large mouthful and made for a very satisfying animalistic experience. It reminded me of Old boy, and I loved every bit of it.<br />
With only half the food finished I sat back bloated, asked for a doggy bag and ordered the bill. The meal should have cost me a fortune, but with each dish averaging the £6 or £7 mark the total came in at only £30. A closer look at the menu shows that only six dishes cost more than a tenner, and with such an extensive menu, that has so many dishes perfect for sharing I have to say that the restaurant is an absolute bargain.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkxYcTi_4uFO0i8DSyT3r_OIowY18OSJF5zRzfZSgjx7RtiOQaqKsbAQlDP9ozo_mwO8GhJ59fMI2jVBS-o_GizH0l1B75h_hh9Cmem3Fx3v0VxUslGc_JHMo1ghO86FOY6ZD7Zhshmyh/s1600/IMG_0792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkxYcTi_4uFO0i8DSyT3r_OIowY18OSJF5zRzfZSgjx7RtiOQaqKsbAQlDP9ozo_mwO8GhJ59fMI2jVBS-o_GizH0l1B75h_hh9Cmem3Fx3v0VxUslGc_JHMo1ghO86FOY6ZD7Zhshmyh/s320/IMG_0792.JPG" width="320" /></a>It's a very rare event when I go for a meal and fail to find fault, and this will be the first review on my blog that features no complaints. I need to state for the record that I’ve only visited once and try to make a point of visiting a place at least twice before I write about it, as all restaurants have good days and bad. What sets .cn apart from other places in the city and affords it a one-visit review, is that it serves something Cardiff needs and that's diversity. I've spoken in the past about Cardiffs need for more high end / fine dining places, but equally important to the city are more specialist places that offer something different. I'm yet to eat at Tribe Tribe, but the overwhelmingly positive reviews show that the people of Cardiff are open to new regional cuisines, and .cn offers exactly that. It's newly opened and so needs all the help it can get, and in writing this blog post I hope to get at least a few more customers through their doors. I'm not being completely altruistic here because that's not my style. I want the place to succeed because I liked my lunch so much that I’d now hate to lose the place. I mean, where else in Cardiff can I get my offal fix?<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-11706470929353346522011-05-04T19:53:00.005+01:002011-06-04T14:24:31.495+01:00Crown SocialCrown Social<br />
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29/04/2011<br />
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The Park Hotel<br />
Park Place<br />
Cardiff<br />
CF10 3UD<br />
02920 785593<br />
<a href="http://crownsocial.co.uk/">http://crownsocial.co.uk/</a><br />
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Meal for two + wine and tip = £80<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO2i5Z1bJZidUzcEoGS_txP0ICuB2W04UX5gANQXSqe0Px6vHqMVaQhbP-epGAuVaokfj1Kj-UAaoNzAUUGtxu4aZp8VL-tUOA0VU7vCMRui3Ycn3JCMysajKOW9hsJD5J5F1u6DItMtvD/s1600/CrownSocialLogo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO2i5Z1bJZidUzcEoGS_txP0ICuB2W04UX5gANQXSqe0Px6vHqMVaQhbP-epGAuVaokfj1Kj-UAaoNzAUUGtxu4aZp8VL-tUOA0VU7vCMRui3Ycn3JCMysajKOW9hsJD5J5F1u6DItMtvD/s320/CrownSocialLogo.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />
There can have been few more anticipated openings on the Cardiff dining scene this year than The Crown Social. OK admittedly the Krispy Kreme opening probably trumped it, but those doughnuts are the devils work, so for me at least The Crown Social was looked forward to with a fervour I’ve not felt since my Christmases in the 80's as a spoilt little shit.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcTDdDmaCdbIS7hbz5s1RNNoSXXm8YOu8QJ9X6rc6HASrj0Sc6kuc4NkIzQAhESsRshQ8OkSyGPoWSviS1ml5UpXVjC-HGSRFnKWrZLsFtlRVrfvdDP9WXl5-eF6ITh0l7wUspkA9VT-x/s1600/IMG_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcTDdDmaCdbIS7hbz5s1RNNoSXXm8YOu8QJ9X6rc6HASrj0Sc6kuc4NkIzQAhESsRshQ8OkSyGPoWSviS1ml5UpXVjC-HGSRFnKWrZLsFtlRVrfvdDP9WXl5-eF6ITh0l7wUspkA9VT-x/s200/IMG_0706.JPG" width="200" /></a>As I’m sure you already know, The Crown Social is the latest addition to the portfolio of James Sommerin, the one star chef at The Crown at Whitebrook and has as it's executive chef, that legend of British cooking Martin Blunos. It seemed that all the planets had finally aligned to give Cardiff its first chance at a star. I've eaten there twice now and this is a review of two halves but I’m afraid I’m not yet fully convinced.<br />
Considering I had waited with such baited breath for the opening, I still thought it wise to give the place a couple of weeks to allow it to settle into it's stride, but when I could wait no longer I booked up for the very reasonably priced taster menu at £45.95 for 8 courses. The night didn't go particularly well and I was left disheartened by the whole experience.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-rLAb8X-UJDssBXRJqEPi9s4cDfwaU_g21FyXM3Q1_xy9XIZhWvo6XynREBpIGtSa7ix70GIYBoKo8Er6X7gBG3vD_Ka2P4HriTfHorKuzHV4DFN2ti_FINWfELN4lSgTIVOzlDROvvq/s1600/IMG_0707.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-rLAb8X-UJDssBXRJqEPi9s4cDfwaU_g21FyXM3Q1_xy9XIZhWvo6XynREBpIGtSa7ix70GIYBoKo8Er6X7gBG3vD_Ka2P4HriTfHorKuzHV4DFN2ti_FINWfELN4lSgTIVOzlDROvvq/s200/IMG_0707.JPG" width="200" /></a> Firstly the service was slow. Incredibly slow. Four of us were eating and we'd almost finished our first bottle of wine before the first course arrived. I missed the dish being served as I’d popped to the toilet, but returned to find what we all assumed was the amuse. I say we assumed because the small espresso cup of soup had been put in front of us with no explanation whatsoever as to what it was we were eating. Now when you order this taster menu, it doesn't come with a written description of what you will be eating and it's down to the staff to explain each dish as it's served. It's a nice custom that makes the customer a) feel the restaurant actually gives a fuck about the food it's serving b) allows the customer to ask any questions they may have about the dish, and c) shows a basic level of courtesy to the people who will eventually rack up a bill of over £300 between them. I tried desperately to catch one of the staffs attention but they were all far to busy doing something else other than attending to the four or five tables of customers that were occupied on the night. I did eventually manage to find out what the soup was. It was artichoke and quite pleasant, and not an amuse but the first course. We continued in this vein for most of the meal. Me asking what each dish was before the waiter beat a hasty retreat.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrsx6u8YNZ3hhaEh4jZZj4Q06FSdy8ya5AeJDulwjUD2AatYvkve-Y-Hm2hcC8x4CATmyg6wHmdCSpLUkhglhqKodtO6iSu5QPQmK4_vTChobraC_vKDfh2jeePVNCOGHunQmWnAaWqhL/s1600/IMG_0708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrsx6u8YNZ3hhaEh4jZZj4Q06FSdy8ya5AeJDulwjUD2AatYvkve-Y-Hm2hcC8x4CATmyg6wHmdCSpLUkhglhqKodtO6iSu5QPQmK4_vTChobraC_vKDfh2jeePVNCOGHunQmWnAaWqhL/s200/IMG_0708.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlbz8NA-Yy2_Nf4zgLl0ZkvzmSIq6bXiL24wBjXqjNrbs7qI3FVP51IGLYFpItp8YIYHDsyJK331kr2-vUpBmOfpjXIJsQdFfcOBMBs_JkDOQsUjfCZTcvHEMDLvWCKGasqRStSR1w4sK/s1600/IMG_0709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlbz8NA-Yy2_Nf4zgLl0ZkvzmSIq6bXiL24wBjXqjNrbs7qI3FVP51IGLYFpItp8YIYHDsyJK331kr2-vUpBmOfpjXIJsQdFfcOBMBs_JkDOQsUjfCZTcvHEMDLvWCKGasqRStSR1w4sK/s200/IMG_0709.JPG" width="200" /></a>I did worry that perhaps my personal hygiene problems were what were causing the bother. The people I was dining with all have the highest standard of personal hygiene, but me, being a fat lazy slob, am prone to a bit of a smell after a long days work, but no, I'd been looking forward to this meal and had taken an extra long shower that evening in the restaurants honour, and anyway, they didn't seem so stand-offish when it came to the wine. Our glasses were topped up by what I assume were the restaurants ninjas, so swift were they to appear and disappear, and someone was always on hand to offer us the wine list when the previous bottle was empty. This happened quite often since the time between courses (what I like to call drinking time) wasn't measured in minutes or hours, but tree rings or better still, rock strata.<br />
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None of this would have mattered if the food had been out of this world, but where we expected fireworks we got damp squibs. A rabbit terrine was so-so, as good as you'll find in most places but not much better. The main of pork belly was down right boring, lacking even crackling (I mean ffs come on!) but had in its place a caramelised, sorry burnt apple slice. A cheese board did nothing for us and as I recall wasn't even finished, before desserts that were the second highlight of an otherwise regrettable evening (the first highlight being the Swiss pasta, but I’ll come back to that later). First we were served a donut with a shotglass of vanilla ice cream. The donut was a proper donut and none of that krispy kreme crap. Small but beautifully formed, filled with a thick rich jam. The second desert was again lovely. A slice of rich chocolate cake looked great topped with some impressive sugar work, and an ice-cream quenelle, but the texture of the sharp sugar was none too pleasant. They say food can evoke strong memories, and this spun sugar took me right back to a summer spent installing fibreglass in people attics, and the tortuous, incessant itching as the shards dug into every pore of my skin. I wore a mask during my time as a loft insulator but I now know how my mouth would have felt if I hadn't.<br />
We left that evening steaming drunk and very disappointed, but this is a review of two halves and I’m glad to say that when the misses and me returned there for lunch things were a lot better.<br />
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Royal wedding day, and in order to avoid the spectacle at all costs I booked us in for lunch. It was once again very quiet, just one other couple and a very entertaining drunk who wandered in later, but we were shown straight to our table and menus were presented promptly.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZgumPa1wVwNu_gpuzzzLnSbwf1LwDQrrk-w6XPfnl6NnA5kacs9S3xP3qNxINtwNoYHsJUFPMz6LE8TTCQG1A37PPdI_Dv5U_7ZDS9xG_j5tdTJTpvZiUOyNfSBNY3lqyllo45K196DJy/s1600/IMG_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZgumPa1wVwNu_gpuzzzLnSbwf1LwDQrrk-w6XPfnl6NnA5kacs9S3xP3qNxINtwNoYHsJUFPMz6LE8TTCQG1A37PPdI_Dv5U_7ZDS9xG_j5tdTJTpvZiUOyNfSBNY3lqyllo45K196DJy/s200/IMG_0711.JPG" width="200" /></a>A word on the menu for those yet to visit. It's presented in quite a confusing manner with the words " Rather than offering individual starters and main courses, the Crown Social has designed the menu for sharing. Our staff are here to guide you. Eat as much or as little as you desire" Well if you ignore the bullshit spiel and treat the menu as you would any other a la carte menu then you shouldn't go far wrong.<br />
We ordered some "Nibbles" to eat whilst we made up our mind. Crispy pulled lambs breast was pointless. A wispy ball of finely shredded skin, like being served a bowl of hair freshly wrenched from a women who uses too much lemongrass scented hairspray and left us both unimpressed. The sticky beef rib middles on the other hand were excellent. Cooked to melting, they came with an acidic coleslaw that was so good it almost out-shone the meat.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dhzf4e1WxfiuSuY0PJqJxCY1kDoAhEV_ACBieBCEiduZ3tfpnALg8z21dGpOKop2Yrfeu2waNMoWFqEv2PbjLwOMxZNehSV8_ukGmXDXYjDG_nuLMvgkVKzMR7X3IFw3nd1K8IeMmrQG/s1600/IMG_0712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dhzf4e1WxfiuSuY0PJqJxCY1kDoAhEV_ACBieBCEiduZ3tfpnALg8z21dGpOKop2Yrfeu2waNMoWFqEv2PbjLwOMxZNehSV8_ukGmXDXYjDG_nuLMvgkVKzMR7X3IFw3nd1K8IeMmrQG/s200/IMG_0712.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
For starters I went for the chicken oysters, and the misses opted for the Swiss pasta, bacon and morel dish that we had so enjoyed on the last visit. I couldn't blame her for not trying something new, for this Swiss pasta (spatzle?) dish is by far the best thing I’ve tasted anywhere in Cardiff. It's tremendous. The small misshapen thick and doughy pieces of beauty are doused in a light but very flavoursome sauce. The salty smoky bacon adds another level even before you get to the earthy taste of the king of mushrooms. It's heaven. I want it now as I write. I will always want it. That's not to say I was disappointed with my starter of chicken oysters, not at all, in fact I was very glad I had ordered them. They showed me what chicken is supposed to taste like. Real chicken, well sourced and cooked with no other intention than to show you what you've been missing by eating inferior raised, inferior cooked poultry. The thyme sauce it comes with adds little, as the flavour of the meat is just so strong.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9KtnZLYi0KEXm-cddRbCsIs7QaRI7XXrxTUnOH03pCJpWEIHiPAB3qOigMP0sYL5YC_A6lLg0b6yZtiZUVSKQYiwJB4QWfUPLhieL1JNs4lINKc443j9C8sJhlwL0SWglhUdyfFGUm2r/s1600/IMG_0746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9KtnZLYi0KEXm-cddRbCsIs7QaRI7XXrxTUnOH03pCJpWEIHiPAB3qOigMP0sYL5YC_A6lLg0b6yZtiZUVSKQYiwJB4QWfUPLhieL1JNs4lINKc443j9C8sJhlwL0SWglhUdyfFGUm2r/s200/IMG_0746.JPG" width="200" /></a>For mains she went for the quail with a satay sauce that I unashamedly stole from her plate as she fought in vain to stop me, and I for the lamb. Once again we saw why Blunos is so highly regarded when it comes to cooking. The flavours of the ingredients are almost overwhelming, meat and veg that tastes familiar but with the volume cranked up to eleven, it's incredible. There's a lot of talk from chefs about ingredients speaking for themselves and The Crown Social shows you what they mean. Simply presented dishes with every emphasis on how they taste.<br />
Deserts were no different. I went again for the donuts, only this time it was a much larger portion. Three in fact, a chocolate, caramel, and jam, and instead of the shot glass, a proper grown up glass of proper grown up milkshake. Not too thin, yet not too thick and tasting intensely of vanilla. The waitress recommended the honeycomb soufflé and the misses took her up. We were both glad she did, as it was the nicest soufflé either of us have ever eaten.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwj231Q4YDlBGpUr33FsxhTeJDcfecuA5S3E7TzGUDZhI8TNikdUyXqHc-O2aVre1zAvizzrJO85wyoHuDB-X-sOhzyyLCTrQJzOTYG1qbr5Iwa0Dm7EnbpSVSfnGXiKMJy8XEXYsvSyq/s1600/IMG_0750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwj231Q4YDlBGpUr33FsxhTeJDcfecuA5S3E7TzGUDZhI8TNikdUyXqHc-O2aVre1zAvizzrJO85wyoHuDB-X-sOhzyyLCTrQJzOTYG1qbr5Iwa0Dm7EnbpSVSfnGXiKMJy8XEXYsvSyq/s200/IMG_0750.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
The Crown Social is the first restaurant in Cardiff with the pedigree to do justice to those of us Cardiffians who appreciate good food, and also to the city as a capital.<br />
My first experience there left me a bit shell-shocked. I had expected so much from the place. The taster menu was disappointing even though the food was perfectly fine, if not incredible, and a selection of the main menu just decreased in size isn't the most exciting thing in the world. However, when you agree to it you enter into an unwritten contract to see it out, no matter if it doesn't meet your expectations. That though is no reason for the restaurant to bump up the cost with slow shoddy service on the food but attentive service on the wine. I may not be the most experienced diner, but I can recognise up selling when I see it, and at The Crown Social it was blatant.<br />
Worst of all, it made me doubt my own opinions of a place. How could I write about somewhere with such strong credentials as being bad? Who am I to argue with chefs of Somerins and Blunos credentials?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGvXB9e4Efll1RoMusfxzlLsvA9u8JlY6rOjlRbA4p_J7WJM-JCETvSrOE1drdGPi5pOzA8APC3dX9V0K8I_YA93QNxsgwpwOjRJRQ8yaLU1ytGYL5gDbzgnY9wMJae1uwgYKJ-fNuC7K/s1600/IMAG0216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGvXB9e4Efll1RoMusfxzlLsvA9u8JlY6rOjlRbA4p_J7WJM-JCETvSrOE1drdGPi5pOzA8APC3dX9V0K8I_YA93QNxsgwpwOjRJRQ8yaLU1ytGYL5gDbzgnY9wMJae1uwgYKJ-fNuC7K/s200/IMAG0216.jpg" width="200" /></a>Thankfully the second visit did away with any doubts I had. It was far more in tune with the restaurant I’d hoped for. Cooking that impresses with its showcase of ingredients, educating people in the way food is supposed to taste, with attentive and charming service. It did have it's issues, not least that this time I was sober enough to take in the awful design and decor of the place, but I’m more than happy, in fact very keen, to return to sample more of Martin Blunos incredible skill with ingredients.hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-24872149524522704522011-03-12T14:05:00.003+00:002011-03-22T11:47:13.700+00:00Deli a gogoDeli a gogo<br />
3 Penlline Rd<br />
Whitchurch<br />
CF14 2AA<br />
<a href="http://deliagogo.com/">http://deliagogo.com/</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvz3ObYz4q5X6zAyBgiRKJ3RpjEY78CSTH3MemQ2bU8o3Gw7Rytlr65ZvDcA2quI4Ou9-yP9LEQ_CWcDWjaMot-CNppoaA43t2X21QzW7DsN2ZEsB-KRaxpEMlnOeACs-KGfEefVCoaLh/s1600/deli-a-gogo-006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvz3ObYz4q5X6zAyBgiRKJ3RpjEY78CSTH3MemQ2bU8o3Gw7Rytlr65ZvDcA2quI4Ou9-yP9LEQ_CWcDWjaMot-CNppoaA43t2X21QzW7DsN2ZEsB-KRaxpEMlnOeACs-KGfEefVCoaLh/s320/deli-a-gogo-006.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>"We’re all middle class now,” said some prick way back in the 90's. I don't agree with the comment or most of anything else he said, but when it comes to food he might just have a point.<br />
I was raised by working class parents and spend twelve hours a day working with my hands and carrying around heavy objects that slowly inch the discs out of my spine, so have always considered myself to be working class. The thing is, as I sit here reading my torn and battered copy of The ragged trousered philanthropists, whilst sipping on a montepulciano and nibbling a Roquefort the colour of Orwells Wigan miners, I begin to have my doubts.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU8_hiGrGNMCPnzYIx7rXs_G8iZzLCqe6-lnOtz0yrF0hiQAveG62DLJ5lqFS5IG6Cedr6_vlVieIKLRwY8pA_ql2US7yhGKDhhbYV7czOsR2LIqsd_EuQMfYeDFBsLKo2Q40dSrqwp8D/s1600/IMG_0666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU8_hiGrGNMCPnzYIx7rXs_G8iZzLCqe6-lnOtz0yrF0hiQAveG62DLJ5lqFS5IG6Cedr6_vlVieIKLRwY8pA_ql2US7yhGKDhhbYV7czOsR2LIqsd_EuQMfYeDFBsLKo2Q40dSrqwp8D/s200/IMG_0666.JPG" width="149" /></a>I know people who would still consider fine dining a poncy and elitist practice, and others who think that only chavs and scutters eat at McDonalds and K.F.C. so perhaps to some people, what we eat may very well still reflect our social status, but If we all really are middle class now then surely nowhere reflects this better than the deli. They sit astride the social divide like the taxi tours that show the poverty of the favelas to rich American tourists. Peasant or ghetto foods like Pastrami or Kabanos sausages are sold at prices that dent the kiddies trust fund and Deli a gogo in Whitchurch is no different.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEO6g0jEzEmm340ZRRIchUtAQm5Fb2Nfrfp8Oy0X4cbieP3FLU25Gq8GqmOOKAQqKh9ku_7YCWm5UOCqae5M5SNpNNig4Ip-iHeE8Hn6IqF3CshjIQom-FdFw6hlQ4EVmphymbBbOwNj7-/s1600/IMG_0669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEO6g0jEzEmm340ZRRIchUtAQm5Fb2Nfrfp8Oy0X4cbieP3FLU25Gq8GqmOOKAQqKh9ku_7YCWm5UOCqae5M5SNpNNig4Ip-iHeE8Hn6IqF3CshjIQom-FdFw6hlQ4EVmphymbBbOwNj7-/s200/IMG_0669.JPG" width="149" /></a>The village has been crying out for a decent deli for years, and I think in Deli a gogo we might just have found it. The produce on sale here is excellent, but of course comes at a premium. I don't mind this as I believe that if you want good ingredients then you have to be prepared to pay for them. If you don't agree that's fine, there's an Iceland down the road.<br />
The place hasn't been open long and the range of products reflects this, something I’m told is being added to all the time, but if the constant stream of customers that I’ve witnessed is anything to go by then they've hit the ground running. The standard deli fare is on sale here, such as your pastas and pasta sauces, flavoured mustards and a range of herbs and spices. They also however stock cans of risotto as attractive as anything Warhol ever painted, and wild boar pate that I would buy were it not for the fact that I’d eat it all with my hands before I even got it home.<br />
The meat and cheese counters are again run of the mill, but I’ve spoken to the owners who have told me of the stocks of meat they have maturing ready to go on sale, and their trips abroad sourcing new products. I dearly hope this is true as in my opinion a deli should be somewhere you can go to get more exotic ingredients. It should be a place that intrigues customers and tempts them to try new things. I've paid many visits to wallys deli, that Cardiff old timer, and been disappointed by the blank looks I’ve received when asking for Nduja, Guanciale, Andouillette and Lardo along with many other things that I’ve fruitlessly searched the shelves for, and I hope that Deli a gogo can be the sort of place that stocks these hard to find ingredients, making it a destination for any committed Cardiff foodie.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9npVVP7J2USS1sHd6PGckiqS-mdQKzBGgeO0YhUg19NTaLUD1jCh8geYu_lm77i7HYOyLxBf3boCxn6hb24fcEqt8hQo3_Bv1N5A18JmhAALSrY1JW-QIKqfXpD3jIAiuuehs2pFi1k3Q/s1600/IMG_0668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9npVVP7J2USS1sHd6PGckiqS-mdQKzBGgeO0YhUg19NTaLUD1jCh8geYu_lm77i7HYOyLxBf3boCxn6hb24fcEqt8hQo3_Bv1N5A18JmhAALSrY1JW-QIKqfXpD3jIAiuuehs2pFi1k3Q/s200/IMG_0668.JPG" width="149" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO5YwycgOs-3GRrZJooNG1IKR9uHzb1T4Fgyi8nng38-gx4BVXDivXJnzzbe2vC4fFPuDqovp3WjMIoff0MLLmTOi7KIcQKJ165O-MAynaA1YLAO_lQ2LkPBVYa0xNyl7Ib3ySzeobxlF/s1600/IMG_0667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO5YwycgOs-3GRrZJooNG1IKR9uHzb1T4Fgyi8nng38-gx4BVXDivXJnzzbe2vC4fFPuDqovp3WjMIoff0MLLmTOi7KIcQKJ165O-MAynaA1YLAO_lQ2LkPBVYa0xNyl7Ib3ySzeobxlF/s200/IMG_0667.JPG" width="149" /></a>You might be thinking from what I’ve written so far that deli-a-gogo is the same as your average deli, and not worth going out of your way to visit, but I’d like to explain that's not the case. It is worth paying a visit not just for ingredients but also for the place as a whole. You can get a coffee here that ranks whole leagues above most of what you'll find in Cardiff and it comes with a biscotti. A little crisp cloud of beauty the likes of which you're unlikely to taste outside of Italy. It's served by the friendliest of staff who seem as keen and enthusiastic to see the business thrive as the owners and customers alike. They also do soups and hot meals, and have a liquor licence, so you can enjoy a sample of one of the many interesting bottles of wine they sell while enjoying your lunch. I myself tend to visit for their sandwiches and baguettes that cost around the two or three pound mark depending on whether you sit-in or take away, amongst which I’ve tried the Parma ham and mozzarella (heavenly), and a chorizo and cambozola baguette that I immediately raved about to anyone who would listen. The one sticking point that I just can't bring myself to applaud is the salt beef sandwich that will cost you a hefty £7. It's a good salt beef sandwich but that's all it is. Accompanied by a lonely gherkin and nothing else...for £7. You might be thinking that I typed that wrong when I said it cost seven quid, but I never, it's the truth. Although actually perhaps I did. Perhaps what I meant to write was "SEVEN FUCKING QUID! For a fucking sandwich ?!?! At least that's what i thought when I came to pay for it. I have a kilo of brisket sat in my fridge brining away as I write this and it only cost me a fiver. Were I to shove the entire kilo between two slices of bread and sell it I’d still be making a healthy profit. It's advertised as the Deli a gogo signature, and this is a huge mistake on their part. Not just because of the price, but because on their opening night I tasted a Scotch egg better than any I’ve ever eaten in my life. Far, far better. When Cardiff has it's annual food festival the only place that stands out amongst the generic stalls is the Scotch egg company. It always sells out early because the people of Cardiff enjoy a good Scotch egg. The one I tried at Deli a gogo is the best Scotch egg you will eat. A bold statement I know, but I’ve never tried one better. The thing is they don't even sell them. The one I tried was made by the chef in The Promised Land bar in town, and if Deli a gogo need something to be signature then it's this egg. Priced reasonably it would be something people would talk about and that I would spend the majority of my monthly wages on.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjsxA6k-ik2kqBhNp1YYTiEFbcLzq2Q4kZKjEuAQM_wuRgXjdAoZiDfB1KxAFCHdKMDRvbk59aCZl1AMSoutujpUw212vLjgchHH5vEpGgvJ97cUMCP-Dz9dbQ3fGJ-KiL0nY3x5xlupM/s1600/IMG_0691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjsxA6k-ik2kqBhNp1YYTiEFbcLzq2Q4kZKjEuAQM_wuRgXjdAoZiDfB1KxAFCHdKMDRvbk59aCZl1AMSoutujpUw212vLjgchHH5vEpGgvJ97cUMCP-Dz9dbQ3fGJ-KiL0nY3x5xlupM/s200/IMG_0691.JPG" width="200" /></a>So far the owners seem to have done everything right. From the design of their frontage, which places it among the few interesting looking shopfronts in the village, to their keenness to embrace the community and their customers. I just hope they don't rest on their laurels but continue to become not just an asset to Whitchurch but to Cardiff as a whole. I want the people of Cardiff to not have to worry about searching the internet and paying delivery fees for hard to find ingredients, but to know they can head straight to Deli a gogo.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim9OSrxnWZsei4GocjWxmXNkWdAJh6apjz2cRzJP3XiVcVpEw-AtAUvRKosMzdTmcqbxP_dsF9E8cOiIZG6qGHYhys_xuBX7rIp_P-zEm2s9KMzEgDgxVQ6VUQ844_Se618kxb7RYbYQbm/s1600/IMG_0671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim9OSrxnWZsei4GocjWxmXNkWdAJh6apjz2cRzJP3XiVcVpEw-AtAUvRKosMzdTmcqbxP_dsF9E8cOiIZG6qGHYhys_xuBX7rIp_P-zEm2s9KMzEgDgxVQ6VUQ844_Se618kxb7RYbYQbm/s200/IMG_0671.JPG" width="149" /></a>The prices are indeed high on certain things, but even in this recession it seems that something the people of Whitchurch still have, is disposable income. You only need sit in the Fino lounge on a Sunday afternoon to see the young mothers, who should be struggling to make ends meet more than any other, sipping latte's and white wine whilst their brats scream loud enough to put you off your Scrabble. What is needed is for these sorts of people to by-pass the Co-op or Iceland and head further up the road and make use of our newest independent.<br />
In summary, I’m glad we now have a deli in whitchurch, and a good one at that. I look forward to seeing it thrive.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-82312856550829200382011-02-23T21:29:00.003+00:002011-02-23T22:55:21.227+00:00IchibanIchiban<br />
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19/02/2011<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">201 Cowbridge Rd E<br />
Cardiff, South Glamorgan </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">CF11 9AJ<br />
029 2066 8833</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><a href="http://www.ichibancardiff.co.uk/">http://www.ichibancardiff.co.uk/</a></span><br />
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meal for three + wine and tip = £100<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1k6jVLVaCYxyTtBkS5bmapT4mQKZp8ZtoHYzjXbAM1TU1queo9QtoKdKfUap6qZViDRb_kyn-woN-M4OsyL6keOKJ21JbaD7xsNZO4T9hl0jO8rVg7XA2qopOWAR6GNYqdGRX0wPfhS-C/s1600/ichiban-japanese-cuisine-mini-1-1221295219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1k6jVLVaCYxyTtBkS5bmapT4mQKZp8ZtoHYzjXbAM1TU1queo9QtoKdKfUap6qZViDRb_kyn-woN-M4OsyL6keOKJ21JbaD7xsNZO4T9hl0jO8rVg7XA2qopOWAR6GNYqdGRX0wPfhS-C/s200/ichiban-japanese-cuisine-mini-1-1221295219.jpg" width="200" /></a>Ichiban, apparently, translates roughly as "first" or "best”. I'm not sure if Cardiff’s Ichiban can lay claim to being it's first Japanese restaurant, although it is Cardiff’s most well known. I'm also uncertain as to whether or not it's Cardiff’s best as the only thing I have to compare it too is Tenkaichi on City Rd. I was asked on twitter recently for my opinion on which I thought served better sushi, and had to confess to not really having a clue. I'd visited Ichiban a good few years ago, but have absolutely no recollection of that visit, and Tenkaichi was a new one on me. I'd noticed it in passing before, but it never crossed my mind to visit.<br />
There's a reason for my reluctance to frequent these places, in that I have a huge respect for Japanese cuisine and didn't want to be disappointed by what I always assumed would be Cardiff’s sloppy attempt at one of the worlds great food heritages. (I said I had a reason, I didn't say it was a particularly good one). I've always saved my sushi indulgences for places elsewhere, fearing I’d be served fish of dubious quality. This was me at my most patronising and to be quite frank, stupid. For all my pretended knowledge of Japanese food I’d made that common mistake of associating all Japanese cuisine with seafood and especially sushi.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsqflGSp2hBOCsEraTDlaqJCj4IjG77IWdRFAfUEBllrmbU0_TvFv75Tz-aXavCaiU3UVXbKaaHVmzMydy5xFwXt2SYZNR_bW1e5DkGYTUj9KixXHcwizksj4jzKKtJQgiaKjgqfW9eNk/s1600/IMG_0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsqflGSp2hBOCsEraTDlaqJCj4IjG77IWdRFAfUEBllrmbU0_TvFv75Tz-aXavCaiU3UVXbKaaHVmzMydy5xFwXt2SYZNR_bW1e5DkGYTUj9KixXHcwizksj4jzKKtJQgiaKjgqfW9eNk/s320/IMG_0661.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
It's a common held belief that the Japanese love of fish arrived in the 8th Century with Buddhism and the proclamation that the consumption of meat should be outlawed in line with Buddhist principles. I choose no to believe this story as it seems that whenever religion gets it's grubby fingers into the kitchen all it brings to the meal is prohibition, and that stands in stark contrast to the pluralistic appetites of the modern foodie. I follow a different train of thought that says the Japanese, ever the pragmatists, decided to save their animals to work the land, and avoid the need to hand over vast swathes of their precious, liveable island to pasture.<br />
Whatever the reason, the Japanese continued to eat meat and although you'll struggle to find horse or chicken sashimi in the U.K. (sadly) you can enjoy yakitori, ramen, Kobe beef, shabu shabu and various other meaty delights.<br />
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Anyway, back to the reason I was spurred into action, and came to visit Ichiban; that twitter question.<br />
I'd popped into Tenkaichi to sample their wares one lunchtime, and although I wasn't blown away, I was impressed with the value. I spent £10 at lunch and left pretty stuffed after trying a tasty eel nigiri, and some badly prepared maki that unravelled on the plate without my even touching it. I'd ordered a tempura squid which on first bite tasted bland but rewarded subsequent tastings with a very understated and subtle, light seasoning. You had to concentrate to appreciate it, but it really was, very good.<br />
I ordered the same dish on my visit to Ichiban a few days later, and although that particular dish was on a par with Tenkaichi, everything else about my visit was far better.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXG4_35PQblVklESHCjHSgDF58ZTTaCFYUi6eh9rJCOerEUyVLZAKYLYqpvOlQn4Hg6a0kjS8iWNjBmr3ebrLvPLDnnj7yFIa8VgNaD6o3ItEBvRWLq21cvejAvKMUqP9Dt7YGa0-NyW2n/s1600/IMG_0662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXG4_35PQblVklESHCjHSgDF58ZTTaCFYUi6eh9rJCOerEUyVLZAKYLYqpvOlQn4Hg6a0kjS8iWNjBmr3ebrLvPLDnnj7yFIa8VgNaD6o3ItEBvRWLq21cvejAvKMUqP9Dt7YGa0-NyW2n/s200/IMG_0662.JPG" width="200" /></a>Three of us visited the Cowbridge rd Ichiban on a Saturday night. They have two branches, one here and one in Roath. This one is a shabby old place and could do with a bit of a spit and polish, but then again so could most of Cowbridge rd so I won't hold it against them.<br />
We ordered beers and a plate of mixed nigiri to eat whilst we considered the substantial menu. Besides the octopus nigiri, which was too chewy to eat in anything near a civilised manner, everything else on the plate tasted excellent. The salmon was for me the star and tasted out of this world. It was something I ordered a few more times that night only to wake up the following morning craving more. In the end, We decided the best way to tackle such a big and appealing menu was to order a few large dishes and a range of smaller tasters to share.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMBkLQxZ61NA3Pfu0VY49AYAc5M4bxnFnDiMHwPX3Snj-mzyaehldaa3XxAdvYOochTxWJnKFnzj2vbkSGPUe2hfit0qHIG3ZVVLXejiNP59oZcxmcnfgcX3Pw8D_fh4Ip3mngIIrvMjzP/s1600/IMG_0663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMBkLQxZ61NA3Pfu0VY49AYAc5M4bxnFnDiMHwPX3Snj-mzyaehldaa3XxAdvYOochTxWJnKFnzj2vbkSGPUe2hfit0qHIG3ZVVLXejiNP59oZcxmcnfgcX3Pw8D_fh4Ip3mngIIrvMjzP/s200/IMG_0663.JPG" width="200" /></a>Amongst the smaller dishes was a sashimi salad. A good value alternative to a normal plate of sashimi, which can be prohibitively expensive, and it's freshness put an end to any doubts I might have previously had about the quality of Cardiff’s fish. Tempura vegetables featured aubergine, sweet potato and enoki mushrooms amongst other things and the veg held its bite well. Age gyoza or chicken dumplings divided the tables opinions. The misses adored them, but to me they were a bit unexciting, the pastry bland, dry and a bit tough.<br />
The larger main dishes were spot on. A plate of curry yaki udon, was above average for a noodle dish, but what really set it off was a covering of dried bonito flakes that danced and melted in the heat from the noodles. They provided a depth of savouriness that no Chinese noodles I’ve ever had possessed. My one complaint with the bonito flakes is that there weren't more, as once they had gone the dish slightly lost its punch.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrdYHEtyF5bTyJogNVYn-mVsCYDdfHogxNJhDG9nbs6eZjOt6U4FLIQ04KSTrHuMuu70iXDqbYpkomhuSF5iWJYWx_eLj8Jmf0QlUUNT2CpAE8SsxSTZil31Qw7RUfKNmt0zuj2pnBQ8W/s1600/IMG_0664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrdYHEtyF5bTyJogNVYn-mVsCYDdfHogxNJhDG9nbs6eZjOt6U4FLIQ04KSTrHuMuu70iXDqbYpkomhuSF5iWJYWx_eLj8Jmf0QlUUNT2CpAE8SsxSTZil31Qw7RUfKNmt0zuj2pnBQ8W/s320/IMG_0664.JPG" width="320" /></a>My friend had ordered a bowl of ebi katsu nabe which Consisted of four large prawns, breaded and deep-fried and swimming in broth, with clouds of egg swirling about them. I tasted half of one of the prawns and it was good. The breaded exterior had stood up well to the liquid and retained a good bite. I can't really comment further since my fat, greedy and if I do say so myself, selfish companion thought the dish far too good to share and refused me any more.<br />
The misses ordered tori karaage, or deep-fried chicken with a brown sauce. We wondered what the brown sauce would be. I said (with no authority whatsoever) that it must be a katsu curry. I was wrong. It was brown sauce, H.P. brown sauce, and in my opinion the moreish deep fried chicken deserved something a bit more special.<br />
For dessert, the misses went for the tempura ice cream, and our companion the deep fried mango. The tempura ice cream is an interesting alternative to your run of the mill deserts. Tempura balls are served sliced open to reveal a Thayers ice cream, and come sprinkled with hundreds and thousands. It's by no means as unpleasant as you might think, but after a few bites feels far heavier than desert should so makes a great sharing dish. I wasn't in the mood for dessert but still fixated on that salmon nigiri, ordered another two portions for myself.<br />
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Both Ichiban and Tenkaichi have the customary pieces of fabric in the doorway to get in your way and irritate you as you nip out for a smoke. In Japan in the old days, customers would have wiped their hands in these as they left and the shops would never wash them; a dirty cloth denoting good business and therefore good food. It's a shame that's not how they do it these days, for it would save customers the hassle of finding the best place to eat and perhaps wasting money as they do it, but this is the 21st century and twitter is how it's done these days. It's with my eternal gratitude that I thank @AmandaJJenner for posing that sushi question on twitter, as it got me out of my self imposed, Japanese denying rut, and led me back to Ichiban. It made me realise that the chances of finding my dream Japanese restaurant, where a ninety-year-old sushi chef serves omakasi in a place that seats only four people a night, isn't ever going to exist in South Wales. I can though be happy with food of the quality that Ichiban serves, but more importantly with the price of both Ichiban and Tenkaichi.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-35063114053710250212011-01-22T18:02:00.004+00:002011-02-05T10:36:49.059+00:00Mulberry St<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">21/01/2011</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">48 High St<br />
Llandaff, Cardiff, South Glamorgan<br />
CF5 2DZ</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">029 2056 4646</span><br />
<a href="http://www.mulberrystreetcardiff.com/">http://www.mulberrystreetcardiff.com/</a><br />
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Meal for two + wine and tip = £58<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvChIjk62v0pIfj7Ltu8liJfiZonD5z4OROmbLekNosMSRMQLa2CNVg9DrqT97C81pQgEqBWPN7H8SS25xVCQUsA4Vv1-JVWaCyGnfr0_-YKZqOiAaQ5oyVa80Hyb37BwE-j-l5c6u-T8_/s1600/mulberry+st.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvChIjk62v0pIfj7Ltu8liJfiZonD5z4OROmbLekNosMSRMQLa2CNVg9DrqT97C81pQgEqBWPN7H8SS25xVCQUsA4Vv1-JVWaCyGnfr0_-YKZqOiAaQ5oyVa80Hyb37BwE-j-l5c6u-T8_/s320/mulberry+st.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>In the time since I last ate here about a year ago and now, the restaurant has changed hands. New owners we're told, same staff. Great news as the last time we were there we learned that the chef had just come runner-up on masterchef professionals and the food on that visit was great. I don't know for sure if the kitchen staff are the same, but I’ve little reason to doubt it as the cooking is still of an excellent standard. It's a small restaurant but the space is utilised well, with larger parties sat at the rear and a smaller more intimate area up front near the window. The front of house staff are lovely, but perhaps could use some extra help. When we ate the place was only nearly full, but we still had a 50-min wait for our food, and dishes were bought to ours and other tables without previous dishes being cleared first. We ordered bread whilst we browsed the menu and were served three types; a white, a wholemeal and something fantastic. I'm afraid I can't tell you what the fantastic one was, as when we asked the waiter his face lit up. We were told that they buy all their bread in, except for that one. He said it's a soda bread (it wasn't) that the kitchen had been perfecting and ran off to get us some more. We hadn't the heart to tell him that it wasn't the bread we'd liked so much, but tucked in gratefully. The misses is Irish so knows her soda bread well, and she thought the one made by the kitchen was great. High praise indeed.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWL_C-E11NyfdqqKFoW3Gy7mv9BURUROG9JHX0EhUe1CTp_JFNce0YUlyZGPiNp8lNjIkqG3yh-Y0fSar5jEa3phNTwH1iOU7CuYIv6gO7p0T-1Wv621FyBpT7N6Mstbu0HsBaxdtH1bLP/s1600/IMG_0644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWL_C-E11NyfdqqKFoW3Gy7mv9BURUROG9JHX0EhUe1CTp_JFNce0YUlyZGPiNp8lNjIkqG3yh-Y0fSar5jEa3phNTwH1iOU7CuYIv6gO7p0T-1Wv621FyBpT7N6Mstbu0HsBaxdtH1bLP/s320/IMG_0644.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
The theme at Mulberry St. is based around small dishes. It's a concept introduced to great acclaim in London by Andrew Turner and subsequently copied by the likes of Michael Caines at Abode and Jason Atherton when he was at Maze. I'm not sure how well it works at those places but here in Cardiff I’m afraid it doesn't. Giving fat greedy customers like myself the chance to cherry pick what they eat might well leave them full, but also feeling somehow cheated. Going from calamari, to black pudding and bacon, to haloumi just doesn't feel right. The meal lacks structure and form, which doesn't do justice to the great skill of the kitchen staff. The ingredients are all of very high quality and handled with a deft touch. My one complaint of the cookery would be the need to lay off the salt a bit. The callamari was over-seasoned to wince inducing levels, but was tender without even a hint of rubberyness. The beetroot fritters when dipped into a maple mayonnaise are pure comfort food. It's a dish I’m determined to replicate at home so I can eat it every Sunday night in front of the telly for the rest of my life and die a happy man. Venison had sat around a little too long and had lost a lot of heat. It looked a bit grey and unappetising but was infact the tastiest and tenderest venison I’ve ever eaten.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWW2pBFB3urq0i03VzGLYgIqQ8LVLM0FX1ZHyitgs7npaGSqA1cnHPjy1eWkm04n3ZMJUb-rvBLyL6x9jZnP3excsIKjhaWZDYEbD4YcXq3LwQkRvWumtPedXlI1SXL0XniaXXx4p-UO6/s1600/IMG_0645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWW2pBFB3urq0i03VzGLYgIqQ8LVLM0FX1ZHyitgs7npaGSqA1cnHPjy1eWkm04n3ZMJUb-rvBLyL6x9jZnP3excsIKjhaWZDYEbD4YcXq3LwQkRvWumtPedXlI1SXL0XniaXXx4p-UO6/s200/IMG_0645.JPG" width="200" /></a>The small dish concept isn't called tapas as the portions should be bigger, or complete dishes in miniature form, but here they're neither. Three prawns does not a meal make. Neither do a few pieces of black pudding and diced bacon, no matter how delicious they are. How do they get away with such measly portions you ask? The answer is salad, fucking tons of it. The kitchen must need a commis- chef just to open all the bags of asda pre-packed mixed leaves they get through here.<br />
An a la carte menu is offered but with only a few choices it's the little dishes people turn to. I think the new owners need to change this. I can fully understand why the restaurant went for the little dishes concept. At the time of opening the owners were unusually for Cardiff, on trend, and doing something a bit different allowed them to stand out from the competition. The thing is, this isn't London or New York, it's Cardiff, and to stand out from the crowd here you simply have to cook good food. The chef at Mulberry St. knows how to do this and does it very, very well, and a traditional a la carte format would really allow his cooking to shine. An added bonus would be, they’ll save a fortune in fucking salad!hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-88494832760782430742011-01-22T17:50:00.003+00:002011-01-23T12:41:02.115+00:00Mimosa<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">08/01/2011</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Mermaid Quay<br />
Cardiff, South Glamorgan </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">CF10 5BZ<br />
029 2049 1900</span><br />
<a href="http://www.mimosakitchen.co.uk/">http://www.mimosakitchen.co.uk/</a><br />
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Meal for two + wine and tip = £80<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjzIlYrcs2gkz07-aQRr0qiqhHb9pBQyZpPmOECCW3uMQf3CE_r2-11WTE_IfzNb9Jkgg7O0D6SQUavRecmoi_NBywUnGF6nf4Gj9V_ZCJoJVQTz0FWmWS2OZOMfTnH6Eb34JMbAwcaRW/s1600/Mimosa+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjzIlYrcs2gkz07-aQRr0qiqhHb9pBQyZpPmOECCW3uMQf3CE_r2-11WTE_IfzNb9Jkgg7O0D6SQUavRecmoi_NBywUnGF6nf4Gj9V_ZCJoJVQTz0FWmWS2OZOMfTnH6Eb34JMbAwcaRW/s1600/Mimosa+web.jpg" /></a></div>Mimosa takes its name not from the cocktail, or the genus of herb, but from the tea clipper that first ferried welsh settlers to Patagonia. It's a quasi-cryptic nod to the owner’s proud Welsh heritage. Us welsh are quite fond of our little colony across the water that still speaks the language.<br />
The restaurant is a proud participant in the river cottage "chicken out" campaign and we are told that all the chicken served is free range, as is the pork, and rightly so. The lamb on the menu is Gower saltmarsh and the steaks come from welsh black beef. This same courtesy sadly isn't extended to the seafood. Cod, sea bass, mackerel, john dory and mussels all featured on my last visit though with scant reference to where, and no reference to the methods, by which they were caught. Provenance has for a long time been important to diners and restaurants alike, but with the success of Noma has become de-rigueur. This half-arsed approach to ingredients does nothing to convince diners that the restaurant really cares about its produce.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxqFpXojqqZJUIlOEitrdRN-PGcDUtP3S4M3C8fOtQ19-SRNcZm8aGzyQ21XtVXqQWVeESE3O-J1Psx2dxNqEzBYgAIHrNbrs8D81tHNk15mtTVR8cgwuBREEFPMKiMS7peX7fpdouNNW/s1600/IMG_0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxqFpXojqqZJUIlOEitrdRN-PGcDUtP3S4M3C8fOtQ19-SRNcZm8aGzyQ21XtVXqQWVeESE3O-J1Psx2dxNqEzBYgAIHrNbrs8D81tHNk15mtTVR8cgwuBREEFPMKiMS7peX7fpdouNNW/s200/IMG_0632.JPG" width="200" /></a>The restaurant interior is minimalist, and the crisp white walls, gunmetal grey finishes and darkwood tables are yet to look dated and give the place a cool feel. We ate early on a Saturday evening and were glad to see that every other table was full. This was great as the way sound travels around the space is quite exceptional. Each table can be as loud as they like without being overheard or obtrusive to other diners. The noise gives the place a certain vibe and makes for a very relaxing and casual evening.<br />
The misses ordered gnocchi to start and they were perfectly dense, with an understated cheese and mushroom sauce. It was a well-made dish, as cheese sauces can often overwhelm. It was however pretty big for a starter and had us regretting that we'd ordered sides to go with our mains. My starter wasn't as daunting, in fact it was a little on the small side. I'd ordered cockle fritters, which I’ve had here before, and I’m sure they were bigger then. The laverbread sauce they were drowned in was cloying and not really as pleasant as I remembered, but perhaps my memory is at fault as much as the kitchen was.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxEINg1gw0Liew1eYBK_Rv4c9c76aHPmyyP5jd2hoD_2vIfm7_NYcxGp71XHVt26nY3E_ih2k-qxY_DAR0eG2UnSLG_j7Uj584vaVbVp1asbgaUeJZ8JGYiReMnaM8SNA6R2Gha87wFEj/s1600/IMG_0637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxEINg1gw0Liew1eYBK_Rv4c9c76aHPmyyP5jd2hoD_2vIfm7_NYcxGp71XHVt26nY3E_ih2k-qxY_DAR0eG2UnSLG_j7Uj584vaVbVp1asbgaUeJZ8JGYiReMnaM8SNA6R2Gha87wFEj/s200/IMG_0637.JPG" width="200" /></a>I'd ordered steak for a main, which is something I rarely do when eating out, as the cooking can be so hit and miss. I don't know what made me order it on this occasion as the only choices were sirloin or fillet, boring or more boring. I went for the sirloin, which was ok. I apologise for describing it as ok, but I’m afraid that's all it was. Steak, chips and a béarnaise sauce, It was pub grub. The misses had ordered the blue poppy seed covered chicken, and it looked very impressive, but again and I’m very sorry, was just ok. The parsnips it came with were delightful and sweet, and the poppy seeds really lent an interest, but the dish never really shone. Our sides of olives and bread weren't of the greatest quality, and the onion rings, weren't overly greasy but nor were they as crispy as we would have liked. The portions here are quite generous, and were eaten with plenty of wine, so we skipped desert and asked for the bill.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrflvg_xgeGb_9QwFf3Kz8yfH9OMJTFd7ovww4dvV8nhme4LGJhMRJDNxNDbyNmJ7FJjnDZe8SJ9oG5QlPslot9ouLT4GIoNCjEabME-uJerAraRsPoumnz7KMmF1uiqEjGe-xbUXhtw8/s1600/IMG_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrflvg_xgeGb_9QwFf3Kz8yfH9OMJTFd7ovww4dvV8nhme4LGJhMRJDNxNDbyNmJ7FJjnDZe8SJ9oG5QlPslot9ouLT4GIoNCjEabME-uJerAraRsPoumnz7KMmF1uiqEjGe-xbUXhtw8/s200/IMG_0638.JPG" width="200" /></a>I'd like now to come back to the point I made earlier on the half-arsed menu. I wanted to call the whole restaurant half-arsed but that would be unfair and unjustified. What they don't do though, as with the menu, is go that extra mile. I described the place once to a friend who said "oh yeah, I know the place. It sells pub food." I was a bit taken aback by this as I thought the food served at Mimosa was far better than to be labelled simply as "pub food" but on reflection I think he was right. You won't eat here and be blown away by the cooking, but I doubt you'll have any serious complaints and will probably leave quite drunk and happy. I'm afraid though that until Mimosa ups it's game, it will never become somewhere worth going out of your way for, but remain a good alternative to the chain shitholes that plague the bay. I'm a proud Welshman but what I’ve never been able to take pride in is the dire state of Cardiffs dining scene. I feel like this as Cardiff eateries don't tend to appreciate that there are plenty of people in the city who understand and love food, and long for more daring, imaginative cooking when they eat out. Mimosa is a prime example of this unadveturous outlook. The cooking here, though rarely flawed, is never exciting.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-89589359908367235472011-01-08T17:40:00.000+00:002011-01-08T17:40:34.933+00:00In praise of my butcher and how to cook pigs cheeks.If you're reading this blog, then I assume I can credit you with an interest in food, therefore you might already be a regular visitor to your local butchers, maybe even good friends. This first part of the post then, perhaps isn't for you, so feel free to skip straight to the recipe at the bottom if you like. The first part of this post is aimed at the supermarket customers who might be unaware of just what they're missing by not getting to know their local butcher a little bit better.<br />
I'm not going to proselytise on the evils of supermarket shopping and how you're slowly killing your local area, as I fully understand the convenience supermarkets offer.<br />
The thing is, if you live in Cardiff then you're lucky to live in a city where the art of butchery is still sticking a middle finger up to the supermarket giants. I live in a village with three butchers within walking distance of my house. I know not every area of Cardiff is so well served, but this is Cardiff after all, and you're never more than a 15min bus ride from Central market and the many butchers resident there.<br />
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So what does the independent butcher offer that the supermarket can't compete with? Well firstly and possibly the most salient point I can make is sausages. Butchers sausages are a fucking art. Anything hand made with care, experience and pride is always going to trump a mass-produced product and this is certainly true of the sausage.<br />
A recent advert for Richmond sausages shows an irritating folk band being beckoned home with the promise of insipid, pale, half pork, half fuck knows what sausages, well that's fine if like the people in the advert you're a twat, but you dear reader are not.<br />
What you want is a fat sausage, a solid piece of pork and herbs, or laverbread, or apple. A lamb and mint, a beef and mustard seed, with minimal water so the thing doesn't explode in the frying pan, and that is the beauty of the butchers sausage. It's how sausages are supposed to be, and sadly too many of us have been raised on the mass produced kind to realise this.<br />
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The second point I’d like to raise is on the art of conversation. Your local butcher is a man who can acquire things. He's the honest equivalent of that shifty guy you know in the pub. The one who can sort you out with a dodgy set-top box for the free porn, or a bag of weed when there's a drought on. What I’m saying is this, your butcher can get you stuff that your supermarket can't.<br />
Again, I credit you with being a foodie and no doubt a foodie who's come across a recipe that calls for a cut of meat your supermarket doesn't stock. I know this because I’m the same. I watch Saturday kitchen and think "I want to make that dish, but where the fuck am I gonna buy pigs trotters?" Sadly, the supermarket just wont be the place.<br />
The answer I found was my local butcher. Not only does he have trotters when I ask, but he generally gives them to me for free.<br />
It's the same with everything. You're kids want roast pork for Sunday lunch? You could visit the supermarket and pay so much for a leg of pork that you end up selling your arse down the docks just to cover the mortgage or you could visit your friendly local butcher and pick up some tasty rolled pork shoulder for half the price. Not only that but your butcher will happily cut you just the right amount and then advise you on how best to cook it.<br />
Or maybe your irritating kids want steak on a Friday night? The supermarket I'm sure will stock some rump, sirloin or fillet at a price to make your balls recoil into your stomach, but who wants that when you could pop to your butcher and pick up some aged rib-eye, sliced two inches thick for you and one inch thick for the kids.<br />
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The final point I'd like to raise is something I touched on in the last paragraph and that is price. Supermarkets have made a fine art of promoting their value to the customer, and on something’s they are the cheaper option but this isn't always the case. I agree certain products might well be cheaper at one time or another with offers and promotions, but your local butcher is always cheap, all year round. Lamb belly and knuckles can be bought for next to nothing, and a ham hock will make a weeks worth of sandwiches for only two quid. Filling your house with the most amazing smell and providing you with a deep, flavoursome stock as a bonus. That seems to me to be far better value than the cancer causing processed shit you've been lovingly stuffing your kids with. As for ready made burgers, kebabs and marinated meat, it is cheaper than the pre-packaged supermarket versions simply because it dispenses with the needless cardboard and shrink-wrap. Cheaper cuts of meat are popular nowadays, more so since the recession and that is something to be praised. Supermarkets have noted this and begun promoting brisket and belly but the thing is, your local butcher has always stocked these things. This is not a new market to him, it's something he understands well, and it's something we should take advantage of.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbhTrXKFxs8dPooXnfYjv3yJk_-wqZiitzjaljRT8xadQHJcdq8KPEKoUGN32VM4DCfhak71nFP_BTfUzAWrheemNKdAKqCN7phB2FYMOQMV0tgepvyLSeq_dBXdlTEmE0OzlCka6vRy-B/s1600/IMG_0474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbhTrXKFxs8dPooXnfYjv3yJk_-wqZiitzjaljRT8xadQHJcdq8KPEKoUGN32VM4DCfhak71nFP_BTfUzAWrheemNKdAKqCN7phB2FYMOQMV0tgepvyLSeq_dBXdlTEmE0OzlCka6vRy-B/s200/IMG_0474.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYw-eKybmZnKi_AMJ21rLogVjfVg5CJbpwzMtJwkgPlX8chLtZRO5Rt6g4DCEt38Xl2oJ0eF0TNcyNiFZY-KrMweOjBePm9XkSs0HpjOVjr8ludhJKxYHtHOble1Yv1UkOgsyYVs_UVQs/s1600/IMG_0476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYw-eKybmZnKi_AMJ21rLogVjfVg5CJbpwzMtJwkgPlX8chLtZRO5Rt6g4DCEt38Xl2oJ0eF0TNcyNiFZY-KrMweOjBePm9XkSs0HpjOVjr8ludhJKxYHtHOble1Yv1UkOgsyYVs_UVQs/s200/IMG_0476.JPG" width="200" /></a>This leads me to one of my favourite cuts of all, and that is the pig cheek. It's a rare treat in our house as pigs only have two cheeks and the part that we need for this recipe is the small muscle that does all the chewing. My local butcher gets a pig a week, so collecting enough cheeks for a meal can take time. That's fine with me, as like truffles, or English asparagus, some things are appreciated all the more if you can't eat them every day. If you live near a waitrose (and this is one of the rare occasions where a supermarket deserves praise) then you could be lucky enough to buy pig cheeks in bulk. If you do see them there, then I suggest you buy them all, as they're dirt cheap, an absolute bargain. If however, you don't have a waitrose, but do have a butcher, then please ask him if he can supply you.<br />
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My butcher cuts me off the two jowls (which are essentially the entire side of the pig’s face), and charges at most two pounds, although they're often free. If you get given the same, then you might at first be slightly bewildered, as it's an odd looking piece of meat.<br />
Now for the recipe below, all we need is the small, circular, dark muscle in the centre of the jowl, which you can easily remove at home by lifting it away from the rest of the meat and running your knife down behind it.<br />
The rest of you're little piggies face is no longer needed, but there's no need to waste it. Rolled and roasted it becomes bath chap. Even better, you can practice your butchery by removing the skin, salting it heavily for a few days, and then popping it into the oven to make pork scratchings.<br />
The meat you're left with after all this, can be placed in the oven on a low temperature, say 70°C for four hours. Then blasted at 200°C for half an hour, and you'll end up with the most succulent, fat dripping roast pork possible. Perfect, with some creamed cabbage and potatoes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KEwQXW57dqmlsZmFeM1RZSln0s7mFuKXtGIR1DtIBVl5-YocHsuz5MWDI0T6U8_7M_xUWobjH62Odj-OM0KHsznm0aAqLlJWLp59W5umPo_3yxNB3jScyLO0sCItqAqz1vRxzNmkP54_/s1600/IMG_0477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KEwQXW57dqmlsZmFeM1RZSln0s7mFuKXtGIR1DtIBVl5-YocHsuz5MWDI0T6U8_7M_xUWobjH62Odj-OM0KHsznm0aAqLlJWLp59W5umPo_3yxNB3jScyLO0sCItqAqz1vRxzNmkP54_/s200/IMG_0477.JPG" width="200" /></a>Back to the recipe. Three or four cheeks per person as a main should suffice, but as this is such a tasty cut, the more the merrier. As you know, pigs by their very nature like to eat a lot, and so the cheek is a well worked muscle. This means that although it's very lean, it can also be very tough. We sort this out with a long slow braise. The gentler, the better.<br />
The addition of Chinese five spice in the recipe might seem a bit odd, but it really adds a tremendous amount, and should be added early to the onions, so that the star-anise in the five spice can work it's magic. Trust me on this, it's the five spice that really sets this dish off. Serve on rice, or mash potato and use the braising liquids as your sauce.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHILwJBHo8EEn1i82vGfOc6yNXECl8RLrY_iLTMSWYosFJ0JFLAOmrrg-DEnB4BCfb56zbEW1s_F4J3CH2C3DHAOG_VhsKGbwjFkA_f6CHHrC4wZfI9zkuLF0eN8nW6su1AQMtEAccGtSY/s1600/IMG_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHILwJBHo8EEn1i82vGfOc6yNXECl8RLrY_iLTMSWYosFJ0JFLAOmrrg-DEnB4BCfb56zbEW1s_F4J3CH2C3DHAOG_VhsKGbwjFkA_f6CHHrC4wZfI9zkuLF0eN8nW6su1AQMtEAccGtSY/s320/IMG_0626.JPG" width="320" /></a>Ingredients.<br />
<br />
Pig cheeks<br />
Flour<br />
Mustard powder<br />
1 Leek<br />
1 Onion<br />
Chinese five spice<br />
400ml Chicken stock<br />
<br />
1. Dust cheeks in flour and mustard powder<br />
2. Sear cheeks in hot pan till browned and set aside<br />
3. Brown the onion and leek with salt and pepper and a good dash of five spice<br />
4. Pour in the stock and return the cheeks to the pan<br />
5. Cover the pot tightly and simmer over a low heat for two hours, turning the cheeks every now and then.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-91488724085209007762011-01-08T11:37:00.001+00:002011-01-23T12:32:33.113+00:00Raglans15/12/2010<br />
Raglans<br />
Copthorne Hotel<br />
Copthorne Way<br />
Cardiff<br />
CF5 6DH<br />
02920 599100<br />
<a href="http://www.millenniumhotels.co.uk/copthornecardiff/restaurant/index.html">http://www.millenniumhotels.co.uk/copthornecardiff/restaurant/index.html</a><br />
<br />
Meal for two + tip = £55<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkmski1XDeUTDJkX7If4DVrcnjSU-ZiDDnujdIIu6I3q0S5tJ2iimf0j-hv1n6HAszVW37J2HM4zMGXcbNY-XgsG2-mI_tFQ0d2JFkIKa4fFdW_AnNUdVSkjXuRXz_yM9mWCW584NjcaJ/s1600/Raglans.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkmski1XDeUTDJkX7If4DVrcnjSU-ZiDDnujdIIu6I3q0S5tJ2iimf0j-hv1n6HAszVW37J2HM4zMGXcbNY-XgsG2-mI_tFQ0d2JFkIKa4fFdW_AnNUdVSkjXuRXz_yM9mWCW584NjcaJ/s200/Raglans.png" width="200" /></a><br />
I'm a bit obsessive and nerdy when it comes to reading menus. I often despair at those people who read heat magazine, and get excited about what celebrities are up to, but I never tell them that I’m the same about menus. I keep that to myself; it's my secret shame.<br />
I read the menus of places I’ll never get to visit, and get all excited. The menus of places I’ll never afford to eat at get poured over almost pornographically, but it's the ones that I can visit that really get my attention.<br />
Online, Raglans menu titillates people like me. The suggestion of eating salmon and broccoli terrine with soused cucumber or potted barbary duck and candied belgian endive gets my juices flowing, and we haven't even got to the mains yet. Fillet of halibut in a fine herb butter crust or duo of lamb neck fillet and confit shoulder rillette leave me sweating in anticipation. Therefore, I was a little disappointed when we were presented with the actual menu.<br />
That's not to say it was bad, as some things still excited me. Sadly, when it was presented with a copthorne classics menu of fish and chips, burgers and pies it slightly lost its appeal. I'd had the wind knocked of my sails a bit as I realised that I’d been slightly naive in expecting so much from a place that wasn't so much a restaurant with rooms, in the style say of The Hardwick, but more, rooms with a restaurant.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Q1YOmAIPOknQavtVPQND_DJcZhsiq_LLn5eH5YwNYPND9kkdBaTc5bKcvx5x-xQgqH5IV3r8DoozZ588I6p45SQukjLhr2PuA-_rKGKGI-gykjd_kJEV_a3ZW75TSyXJPt531J45qoEk/s1600/IMG_0537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Q1YOmAIPOknQavtVPQND_DJcZhsiq_LLn5eH5YwNYPND9kkdBaTc5bKcvx5x-xQgqH5IV3r8DoozZ588I6p45SQukjLhr2PuA-_rKGKGI-gykjd_kJEV_a3ZW75TSyXJPt531J45qoEk/s200/IMG_0537.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
I settled on a starter of wood pigeon breast on puy lentils, whilst the misses ordered the twice baked cheese soufflé with grape jam. Mine was fantastic. The breasts were as rare and tender as I’m sure it's possible to get them, and they sat atop just the right amount of puy lentils so as not to be considered healthy. However, it was the red berries that came with the dish that really set it off. The acidity was just what was needed to liven up the puy lentils, and really did justice to the pigeon breast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBkl98luP1sw_KIl8FVbdV-rqv25noeEkBKacgIvAWIQAU5tHd__OkRDaAd8FGsyJXt-fX2SIMWO8sSDN06urhBLi5Yj6Tio6XkOoTS05IqttG8dnuUv0RLj_3xDzclXHdd0bQLaH3pco/s1600/IMAG0075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBkl98luP1sw_KIl8FVbdV-rqv25noeEkBKacgIvAWIQAU5tHd__OkRDaAd8FGsyJXt-fX2SIMWO8sSDN06urhBLi5Yj6Tio6XkOoTS05IqttG8dnuUv0RLj_3xDzclXHdd0bQLaH3pco/s200/IMAG0075.jpg" width="200" /></a>The misses on the other hand wasn't so pleased. The twice baked part of her soufflé had been overlooked and she was given what looked like a cheesy deflated yorkshire pud, that was completely stone cold. It was duly sent back and she watched me spend the next ten minutes smiling as I tucked into my dish. When I was finished, the maitre d' came and plonked her now warm soufflé on the table and wandered off without saying a word. I was annoyed at the bad manners, but I doubt as annoyed as the misses was with the miserable looking little dish she had been given. I think she worried we'd already caused enough of a scene by sending the first pile of crap back, so she made the most of it. I say this as not only did the dish look shit, to me it tasted worse, almost rotten.<br />
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Anyway, after that sorry little episode we sat waiting for the mains and studied our surroundings. Raglans is half wood and half window. The wood half is boring, the only adornments being plates with past AA rosettes, tacked up here and there. It has a real golf club feel to it. The window half is slightly less boring, with excellent views over PC world and "the hairy blokes discount furniture store" (honestly, it exists). Worse of all, the other diners looked bored or boring. Middle aged men dressed like Jeremy Clarkson sat alone reading, or in pairs loudly discussing business. The misses (who bless her, had dressed up for the occasion) and I, sat talking in whispers about the food so as not to be overheard. Ambience is not something Raglans does well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6te511QLHTOCC7eUB3eNMNBsoz7u_N8-HpAwEoTNIkd2ud_I8Yb4oz7LD3qosB9yzzvd17ojO4JsrGTuMJI873Ezuxs9_J9XarebTpTmjmPW77H0eR8mb2q0v7flfSmxPu3qEFzNjTirn/s1600/IMG_0538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6te511QLHTOCC7eUB3eNMNBsoz7u_N8-HpAwEoTNIkd2ud_I8Yb4oz7LD3qosB9yzzvd17ojO4JsrGTuMJI873Ezuxs9_J9XarebTpTmjmPW77H0eR8mb2q0v7flfSmxPu3qEFzNjTirn/s200/IMG_0538.JPG" width="200" /></a>The mains arrived and I gave up on enjoying the night. We'd only had a glass of wine each as the winelist is so incredibly overpriced, and I really needed to be drunk to enjoy this meal. My dish of grilled woodland pork chop had been ordered partly as a test. A good kitchen can keep a pork chop moist, partly with correct cooking, but also by choosing the right cut. A fatty piece of pork will take a lot of the strain off the chef by keeping itself nice and moist. The pig I was served though had spent its life working out in the hotel gym. I was sad that I met this pig in death, but meeting such a lean, mean fighting machine in life would have been almost as bad. It was huge! I mean Herculean and had not a single piece of fat anywhere. The grilling it had received added a burnt taste that only made it drier. It came with some of the fattiest, tastiest bacon I’ve ever eaten, but that just wasn't enough to save the dish.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKO5ojylRp-CaNfHuRaIWTtt9XgzYI4IaPvysWVGqYmSW7PrfUOl4H1VNmtQOrQkUelernWevPUxwC6d8tltxou6c_pTDEKjNsoYdeD1S9m66hdpzt0gNCTqiDb7eqBaGhBhZWbciV68Nn/s1600/IMAG0076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKO5ojylRp-CaNfHuRaIWTtt9XgzYI4IaPvysWVGqYmSW7PrfUOl4H1VNmtQOrQkUelernWevPUxwC6d8tltxou6c_pTDEKjNsoYdeD1S9m66hdpzt0gNCTqiDb7eqBaGhBhZWbciV68Nn/s200/IMAG0076.jpg" width="150" /></a>The misses had ordered ham wrapped chicken and was none too impressed. She tried desperately to find the rosemary in the advertised "rosemary jus" but was left perplexed by the sauce on her plate.<br />
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We sat back considering dessert as the staff started bringing out toasters and laying out the tables for the breakfast service. I know hotels need to be prepared for the morning rush, but couldn't they at least wait until the dinner guests have left? It didn't really matter though as by now, dessert at Raglans just wasn't what we wanted. What we wanted was the bill and as sharp an exit as possible.<br />
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I've made it a point of principle with this blog to try to avoid reviewing a place after just one visit. However, if that one visit makes a return trip completely unlikely I feel I should. It's a shame the place feels so sloppy, as my starter really was great, but I can't recommend a place on the strength of just one dish. Especially as all the other dishes annoyed me so much. If you're staying at the copthorne hotel and you've money to burn, then by all means head to Raglans, and for those of you who get as turned on by menus as me, heed this warning. Raglans is a siren best avoided.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-83641928095803913512010-12-21T16:16:00.002+00:002011-01-23T12:42:24.543+00:00Pizzeria Villaggio<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9S5zoNu3o0ApDovcyQoF7RD4LW0r8xeaKIh5eSVjlfmWFlRRPs1lUHic4vS3hUvQe00dBJw27lQL_0sJ0DSTwBUZHjC3FDc4mjQhYnW_cqWoLqWeMFqxdL8iV4gyIOzzlJBi7ah8QMJeh/s1600/villaggio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9S5zoNu3o0ApDovcyQoF7RD4LW0r8xeaKIh5eSVjlfmWFlRRPs1lUHic4vS3hUvQe00dBJw27lQL_0sJ0DSTwBUZHjC3FDc4mjQhYnW_cqWoLqWeMFqxdL8iV4gyIOzzlJBi7ah8QMJeh/s1600/villaggio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><br />
<b>11/12/2010</b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>73 Merthyr Road</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Cardiff</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> CF14 1DD</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> 02920 613110</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9S5zoNu3o0ApDovcyQoF7RD4LW0r8xeaKIh5eSVjlfmWFlRRPs1lUHic4vS3hUvQe00dBJw27lQL_0sJ0DSTwBUZHjC3FDc4mjQhYnW_cqWoLqWeMFqxdL8iV4gyIOzzlJBi7ah8QMJeh/s1600/villaggio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9S5zoNu3o0ApDovcyQoF7RD4LW0r8xeaKIh5eSVjlfmWFlRRPs1lUHic4vS3hUvQe00dBJw27lQL_0sJ0DSTwBUZHjC3FDc4mjQhYnW_cqWoLqWeMFqxdL8iV4gyIOzzlJBi7ah8QMJeh/s1600/villaggio.jpg" /></a>This will be my first review of an Italian restaurant on my blog, but before I get to it I feel I must vent my spleen in despondent, frustrated anguish.<br />
Something about the Italian restaurant scene in Cardiff has troubled me for quite some time now. It's rarely the cooking that causes my despondency, but my exasperation comes with the identikit menu and complete lack of innovation.<br />
The average British foodie has been lucky enough in the last decade to experience a renaissance in dining, and although Cardiff is always behind the curve, surely it's possible that change could come through the Italian restaurant scene first.<br />
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When I was growing up the only restaurant I can remember standing out was the Greek place on Crwys rd, and it stood out to me precisely because it wasn't Italian. For some strange reason Italian eateries, along with Chinese and Indian have always thrived in Cardiff, with every area enjoying their fare share. Even against the might of the ubiquitous pizza and pasta chain abominations, like Bella Italia, Pizza Hut and ASK the humble family owned places have trooped along. This surprises me as they all serve pretty much the same thing. The only difference being that the small independents can't offer the same sort of deals as the chains, so surely they should be a dying breed in the face of such competition, but that's just never been the case.<br />
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I'm yet to walk into an Italian restaurant in Cardiff without being able to guess at most of the menu without even reading it. Carbonara will be there of course, and will usually be presented doused in cream. Bolognaise will be there, and it has to come with spaghetti. Amatriciana, lasagne, Arrabbiata, and for vegetarians the spinach or mushroom ravioli will all, i'm sure, also feature.<br />
I know people enjoy the run of the mill Italian dishes very much, and it's those dishes that have allowed so many places to thrive, but why the hell can't someone offer something a little bit different? I know that this is often where the specials board comes into play, but it really shouldn't have to, as once again the usual predictability will come into play. A fish dish will feature usually a sea bass or cod (the "frutti de mar" will most likely be on the main menu, consisting of squid rings, shrimp and crab sticks.) The steak will be there, a choice of rump or sirloin, and they'll also dip a toe meekly into the world of offal with some sort of liver dish.<br />
I may be coming across as a carmudgeonly arsehole here, and that's because I am carmudgeonly, but also because I believe that people should be given the chance to experience a far wider range of foods. Cardiff is now awash with global cuisine, and restaurants offering something dare I say it exotic are thriving, where as Italians are still pushing the same tired, old, comfort food, and there's something very seventies about their attitude to what cardiffians want.<br />
To say that Italians have a rich heritage when it comes to food would be to understate tremendously, and sadly us welsh are missing out on a huge part of that heritage. We all cook pasta dishes at home, and some of us might even have quite a repertoire, but I’m yet to meet anyone who says their gonna knock up an osso bucco for the family on a Monday night, or rustle up spitini a la siciliana when they get home after work, and it's that sort of thing that restaurants should be offering us. I'm not asking for high end, fine dining, or molecular gastronomy here, but I am asking for the option of trying something a bit different when I go out to eat.<br />
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I haven't always harboured these feelings. There was a time when a visit to an Italian for a Carbonara was something I looked forward to, even craved, and I can pin-point the exact moment when my attitudes changed.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMCT9OAM9bKO-jWiKNG9wR4KlpX8cOqLsxl7xKTBdpUfdkyvRzgofeWDp0a0l1TzI5hoFQW5oQ9qltyeptkBuaJTT-EZmoXMlW1bAj8vl6oSLNpc1BTAXqE60oalacXwn0FSsFkjmm8Ib/s1600/IMAG0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMCT9OAM9bKO-jWiKNG9wR4KlpX8cOqLsxl7xKTBdpUfdkyvRzgofeWDp0a0l1TzI5hoFQW5oQ9qltyeptkBuaJTT-EZmoXMlW1bAj8vl6oSLNpc1BTAXqE60oalacXwn0FSsFkjmm8Ib/s200/IMAG0068.jpg" width="150" /></a>I'd seen on-line that Jamie Oliver was opening a new branch of his Italian chain, and I knew right there and then, that soon enough the only thing Cardiff foodies would be talking about was Jamie’s fucking Italian. I was soon to be proved right and in my usual miserable way, I got more and more pissed off. Why the fuck were people queuing up for an Italian with a celebrity name above the door, when a short walk away were Italians that had been dishing out good food for years? I knew I would have to try Jamie’s place, I didn't want to, but I needed to walk the walk if I was gonna talk the talk. After eating Jamies food I felt, and still do feel, that I was correct to be slagging him off. I won’t go into details as I feel the place deserves a second visit before I review it, suffice to say I was un-impressed.<br />
So I kept on slagging him off and bemoaning the fact that established eateries were suffering because of him, until someone far wiser than me pointed out that this was a good thing. For the Cardiff dining scene to evolve it takes competition, as competition should hopefully breed innovation. It was somewhat of an Italian epiphany. Eateries in Cardiff had coasted along, picking up their shares of the customers and doing nothing out of the ordinary because there had never been a real, serious, challenge to the food they were serving.<br />
<br />
Now I needed to get all that off my chest because I love Italian food. I love to cook it, I love to read about it, and I love to be served it. Now since this blog reviews Cardiff restaurants, and I’m yet to find anywhere out of the ordinary when it comes to Italians, then it's the ordinary I must review.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifetE0h9boHcEmHZ7M4C5DAv7TVYq3mcblgLAgGRvpRMttWqxHMxCS5-oOSND6UInsbINRBeYsIIQUYa3vmluko9HgwDMRXTg0yy7KzU7Ikkbc92hDv1ncs_hjvI9FrWZkhFFt_ituxoA7/s1600/IMG_0531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifetE0h9boHcEmHZ7M4C5DAv7TVYq3mcblgLAgGRvpRMttWqxHMxCS5-oOSND6UInsbINRBeYsIIQUYa3vmluko9HgwDMRXTg0yy7KzU7Ikkbc92hDv1ncs_hjvI9FrWZkhFFt_ituxoA7/s200/IMG_0531.JPG" width="200" /></a>Pizzeria villaggio is just around the corner from my house and it's been there for almost as long as I’ve been alive. The family that run it are always welcoming, hospitable and genuinely pleased to see you It warms my cold, cynical, foodie heart to see the grandmama behind the stove of the open kitchen as I’m led to my seat. This open kitchen walk pass is one of my most hotly anticipated moments when dining out, and no-where else in Cardiff does it like villaggio does. The steam that hits you with the smells of garlic and chilli are truly pavlovian, but sadly lead to an anti climax when you see the decor of the dining room. It's bland and lacks any individuality. The place could definitely do with a more homely touch.<br />
The menu is of course run of the mill, but it's what they do with their ingredients that keep me going back. They cook their pasta better than I ever could, and with main dishes at around the £8 mark, and good cheap wine, the total bill is never crippling.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-DMXrLvPtOMiAmZFRYNE6jHj-0u2uQPedRgiOy3LUvdLkY1IeaYMREQBLN6FwuZ6RhVS_k7ko-Tg-XL8amKhBZwjwjKUziJaouofsx0W1G1KCEeY2-zXdfKKAwEI5SNZDyOmJrSw584WP/s1600/IMAG0073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-DMXrLvPtOMiAmZFRYNE6jHj-0u2uQPedRgiOy3LUvdLkY1IeaYMREQBLN6FwuZ6RhVS_k7ko-Tg-XL8amKhBZwjwjKUziJaouofsx0W1G1KCEeY2-zXdfKKAwEI5SNZDyOmJrSw584WP/s200/IMAG0073.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixek12UTKF6E_qTTjUmzhyphenhyphenTkfaDJ5lTs61yQM85Hl-bc9bqwGsE5oHCpnM-3AJ0kKL_aCsz4UC18dpuL-aTANcWe5H5Nx5CC9-MUHBHZ-_8xBD__McMtOPW2JYHO3tKLFcilCqJgiOnhe/s1600/IMAG0071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixek12UTKF6E_qTTjUmzhyphenhyphenTkfaDJ5lTs61yQM85Hl-bc9bqwGsE5oHCpnM-3AJ0kKL_aCsz4UC18dpuL-aTANcWe5H5Nx5CC9-MUHBHZ-_8xBD__McMtOPW2JYHO3tKLFcilCqJgiOnhe/s200/IMAG0071.jpg" width="200" /></a>Whatever you order when you visit, please heed my advice and order their garlic bread. The usual soggy baguette is done away with, and replaced with something more akin to a pizza base. It's heavenly. It's also sadly the best starter available. On my last visit I started with the mushrooms which were far too acidic and bitter and not at all pleasant. But I’ve also had the cockles (gritty), the Parma ham and melon (exactly what it says it is) and prawn cocktail (the one you're mum makes on Xmas day will be better and she won't charge you a fiver for it). So save yourself a few quid and head straight for the mains.<br />
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The misses and I spent the one evening trying to work out what the spaghetti they serve here is. It's fatter than anything you'll find in the shops and could well be Bigoli, or possibly it's a setting on the die they use to make it in house. It's to my shame that I’ve never found out, but whatever it is, it's fantastic. The sauces cling to it, like my awful attempts at pasta dough cling to every work surface. The mare e monte you can see pictured was advertised as coming with fettucine, but this fat spaghetti was a fine substitute. The dish was seasoned perfectly and the sauce coats the tongue as pleasingly as it coats the pasta. A stunning bit of hearty grub.<br />
The misses usually goes for the penne al ragu and asks for extra chilli. She was recommended this by a friend and has never looked back, so I’ll recommend it here to you too. However, on our last visit she opted for the meatballs, which were underwhelming. Too small for my liking as had they been bigger they would be less prone to drying out as these had.<br />
For the purposes of this blog I thought I’d stray from the pastas that villaggio does so well, and sample one of the specials which they don't. I chose a skate wing with vegetables and it was miserable. The fish itself went from far too crisp to far to soggy in the space of three inches. The frozen veg had never had the pleasure of meeting salt, and I’m not sure how they managed to make a bowl of roast potatoes taste like play-doh but they did.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh889KBXg0f_yLcXXFKF1aPFK6FMy0jOAhMVq6rBrKBBwfDRrsfUhDf-aV-QVmHatV39LGPqzC632iM8jUtPlZUsEoj8P0Wgaku7jRqHMNbOI6bIPvUkfLyao6uxWxnjUfgJEWAVCZkaJ_H/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh889KBXg0f_yLcXXFKF1aPFK6FMy0jOAhMVq6rBrKBBwfDRrsfUhDf-aV-QVmHatV39LGPqzC632iM8jUtPlZUsEoj8P0Wgaku7jRqHMNbOI6bIPvUkfLyao6uxWxnjUfgJEWAVCZkaJ_H/s200/IMG_0532.JPG" width="200" /></a>As for the pizzas served here I can only pass on to you what I’ve been told as sadly too much cheese makes me ill. I'm reliably told by someone who eats little else than pizza that the ones served at villaggio are among the very best, so please give one a go.<br />
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In summary, pizzeria village does exactly what it sets out to do. No frills cookery at a price that should get you out of the house on evenings when you can't be arsed to cook yourself. If you stick to the main menu and the dishes they've been cooking week in, week out for years then you shouldn't be disappointed. In fact I’d say you'll eat better-cooked pasta here than you will in most Cardiff Italians. If you live outside Whitchurch then you probably have your own local favourite doing exactly the same dishes so there's really no need to make a trip to villaggio. However, if you do live in Whitchurch then please, please make more use of this local institution and avoid Mediterraneo in the village. The newcomer isn't a patch on the old timer.<br />
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This whole blog post might seem a bit confused, but that's just how my brain is. I needed to write the whole rant as I’ve now come to the conclusion that the local Italian has its place in the community. We may not have places that will achieve Michelin stars but the fact that we can eat the sort of food, and drink the sort of wine that send you stumbling home in a pleasingly soporific stupor is something to be cherished. Best of all, it really doesn't cost the earth.<br />
I still don't really know for sure where I stand when it comes to big name chains, and probably never will. Maybe one day Massimo Bottura will open an outpost of Osteria Francescana on mill lane, but until then please make use of the tired old local Italians as well as their celebrity named competition.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-72361367147475959192010-11-23T20:32:00.003+00:002011-01-23T12:34:54.681+00:00Mint and mustard<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">20/11/2010</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Mint and mustard</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">134 Whitchurch Road, Cardiff, South Glamorgan CF14 3LZ</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><nobr><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">029 2062 0333</span></nobr></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><nobr><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.mintandmustard.com/">http://www.mintandmustard.com/</a> </span></nobr></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><nobr><br />
</nobr></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><nobr><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></nobr></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYgJQeyl7YVEQs51pGoiZY19bIkseK0MwiSpAIwNOYTL0my4wGhU5hqdJzsqkvHBhQ7pd5iBIaVPzULVYIUhXbSndAzDcb1IxmOaD3-q5hNgGnlzEIpqoUygS4fEml3wndUMNNV5irt-1n/s1600/mint+and+mus.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYgJQeyl7YVEQs51pGoiZY19bIkseK0MwiSpAIwNOYTL0my4wGhU5hqdJzsqkvHBhQ7pd5iBIaVPzULVYIUhXbSndAzDcb1IxmOaD3-q5hNgGnlzEIpqoUygS4fEml3wndUMNNV5irt-1n/s320/mint+and+mus.jpeg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I've been a fan of this place since it first opened and I saw the enticing pictures on their website. I became an even greater fan a year or so later when I eventually got to eat there. They had just been announced on restaurant magazines 100 best of Britain list, and we decided that this accolade definitely warranted our visiting, so eight of us went along on a Friday night. From the second I popped that Bombay chat from the pearl starter into my mouth and saw the smiles on the others who were doing the same I was hooked. The light pastry case, giving way to smooth yoghurt. Even better, they did fish, and they did it well.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Mint & mustard is a Keralan restaurant and apparently Kerala is all about the seafood. The meat dishes here are great, but on that first visit it was the fish that had me hooked. A bowl of monkfish with boatman sauce overwhelmed me on that visit, the tamarind bringing on a rush of acid indegestion, but when I sampled the same fish with a mango allepey sauce, I was blown away. On another visit I tried the chefs signature dish of tiffin sea bass. Now I must confess to not being a fan of sea bass. To me it's the fillet steak of the ocean world, bland and lacking in any character but that's just me. It's served here on a lightly spiced mashed potato, with that mango sauce I love so much and topped with a beautiful streak of raspberry. An alternative is the polichathu, where the fish comes wrapped in a banana leaf; the moist flesh infused with flavour and in my opinion a far better dish. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimHcrWzgvqyKHApQIhRJiN7z1VZ3RhF6ltBinRGetnl-HNju4eKrTz1DEmkPnOtbwr0D57MZP00jVRY_0wGUM_5y4eii8FaVzQEUDIU8WewYQxwDA8xuf5VtJdYri7VTBQtFTtg8U0R2r/s1600/sea+bass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimHcrWzgvqyKHApQIhRJiN7z1VZ3RhF6ltBinRGetnl-HNju4eKrTz1DEmkPnOtbwr0D57MZP00jVRY_0wGUM_5y4eii8FaVzQEUDIU8WewYQxwDA8xuf5VtJdYri7VTBQtFTtg8U0R2r/s200/sea+bass.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a>Everyone with me on that first evening loved it, and all have been back since, but for me it meant more. For me this was a life changing experience. I don’t use that term lightly in a "I’ve just seen the doctor and he said my cancers cured" sort of way, no this was bigger. I'd finally found an Indian restaurant I enjoyed.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> I've always struggled with Indian food in general and I won't pretend to know anything about it. For me a night out at an Indian has meant struggling through a ladle full of slop, dumped on a pile of rice, and this has been the case at every place I’ve visited. I've always felt slightly autistic when dining at Indians, as I just can't understand peoples overwhelming emotion for it. Everyone else seems happy as they discuss excitedly which form their slop should take, and how hot said slop should be, and most importantly, which naan they want to make them feel more bloated and uncomfortable at the end of the meal. I just sit there more miserable than normal, dreaming of Mint and mustard.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Mint and mustards food is refined even sophisticated, and if Cardiff needs something desperately, it's sophistication. They've kept some touches of the classic Indian, like the bad art and shit music, but done away with the chips and giant mounds of rice. I've actually been warned on a couple of occasions by people who hadn't done their research that mint & mustard is rubbish because they don't do half and half and the portions are small, and you cant get a jalfrezi, and that they didn't enjoy it at all. This cheers me immensely. The poppadoms are still there, but at mint and mustard they're more like crisps. Small perfectly cooked and satisfyingly crunchy, they're more a revelation than a pre-meal nibble.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLkWbfHdCp1aYA1E1acCTZiefLfeT3KLSv4OrrFqCK4kPhE7EbYmJTlGVR0R4Td594cCWcZK_vFCa12eVxkYC-uG3ySq1eFg6Bc0KWhIalvYLHvdBhu9TFrTewNaScbHtDpsKVMRXkZ-X/s1600/panch+ratan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLkWbfHdCp1aYA1E1acCTZiefLfeT3KLSv4OrrFqCK4kPhE7EbYmJTlGVR0R4Td594cCWcZK_vFCa12eVxkYC-uG3ySq1eFg6Bc0KWhIalvYLHvdBhu9TFrTewNaScbHtDpsKVMRXkZ-X/s200/panch+ratan.jpg" width="200" /></a>The other thing about Kerala I’m told, as with a lot of the sub continent, is that they understand vegetarian cookery. This is definitely the case at mint and mustard. I'm no vegetarian myself but the dishes I’ve tried here have been lovely. I've even moved from the meat filled pearl starter, to it's veggie equivalent the panch ratan (If you don't want to stretch to the £9 panch ratan then let me recommend the spinach and prune cake instead, it's the star of the panch ratan.). I live in hope that one day the best of the two will meld and form the ultimate world conquering, Indian super starter of my dreams. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Another problem I have with Indian restaurants is the seemingly endless list of dishes that fill the menus, and Mint and mustard is no exception. Along with explanations that would give Tolstoy writers cramp, it can all become a little bewildering, as once you've reached the end you forget what you read at the start. I think therefore that it might be useful to provide some recommendations. I already mentioned the monkfish, and the robust, meaty flesh stands up excellently to the heavy and creamy Indian sauces. It does however lose it's finesse when poured over a pile of rice, but is a great alternative to the lamb and chicken curries most people will be familiar with. A starter of Nandu; a soft shelled crab, is delicious but also one of the most visually pleasing of the dishes served here.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfv63mCJNn_dAKsqQm132D_DgizQgLbu2kWSuIRPF1fdjTZ02RIE4mQdOsgGvC7r2CZPOk2VBILNWIoufAPXTG_dBLTk0ojS8PPviio6EDDSjKWsjxrgcvoYce4WF3yU-Wi4yVAsWDvGv/s1600/IMG_0513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfv63mCJNn_dAKsqQm132D_DgizQgLbu2kWSuIRPF1fdjTZ02RIE4mQdOsgGvC7r2CZPOk2VBILNWIoufAPXTG_dBLTk0ojS8PPviio6EDDSjKWsjxrgcvoYce4WF3yU-Wi4yVAsWDvGv/s200/IMG_0513.JPG" width="148" /></a>Another dish I can heartily recommend is also my misses’ favourite. The Malabar biriyani is a masterclass in rice cookery. Meat, rice and spices are cooked together in a pastry-covered dish, giving the added bonus of theatrics as the waiter cuts away the lid releasing the scented steam. Before tasting it myself, I was unaware just how well rice could take on flavour. The meat, thanks to the enclosed cooking method, is moist and flavoursome, but the humble cereal grain is the real star.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My writing so far may feel less like a review and more of an advertisement and for this I apologise. The reason for this is that I really do enjoy mint and mustard and feel it's a real asset to the city. I have my complaints of course, There would be something seriously wrong with me if I never. A duck dish I once had was disappointing. I had expected the kitchen would do something wonderful with a duck breast, perhaps serving it elegantly sliced, and intelligently spiced atop a bed of wondrous and exotic veg. Sadly it came in chunks doused in a thick stew-like sauce. The flavour of the meat lost to the extent that had they run out of duck that day, and substituted it for lamb, or beef, or labrador I’d have been none the wiser. This is mentioned more in the hope that Mint and mustard themselves take note, and continues to offer something as far removed from the run of the mill curry house as possible.<br />
I've also heard tales of rude and arrogant staff, but have been lucky enough to have the same waiter on every occasion, who is always smiling, polite and knowledgeable. That was until my most recent visit when the man serving us did an excellent job of getting on my tits. Not only did he seem intent on rushing us, returning at 30-second intervals to ask if we were ready to order, but also seemed to be working on commission. After every order, we were asked if we wanted anything else. "No thanks" came the reply, "how about a naan?", "no thanks", "are you sure?", "yes thanks", "have you seen the new list of naan and side dishes?" ,"yes thanks", " so you don't fancy anything?" "No, thanks, and please just FUCK OFF!". </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The hard sell is never appreciated, un-called for, and for a restaurant of this calibre, completely unacceptable.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So, in summary to this somewhat essay-like review (again I apologise) I'd say; If you haven't already tried it, I recommend you do. Though please, for your own sake, keep an open mind, and enjoy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-29739364329808678982010-11-20T16:26:00.002+00:002011-06-09T00:17:05.760+01:00Patagonia<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;">13/11/2010</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;">Patagonia</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;">11 Kings Rd<br />
Cardiff, South Glamorgan CF11 9BZ<br />
029 2019 0265</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;"><a href="http://www.patagonia-restaurant.co.uk/">http://www.patagonia-restaurant.co.uk/</a> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;">meal for two + tip = £80</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOGVaVfjra1timFFXig3CFhl8Gn7qByTIBiL2wlPzoafHAmYypBc3mWjQ2jdXh9Kr_hmrJnJSwP54l_C0cMudo692uZ7DSgiSH3Ud44IWSa5hqJK2My49-vJcL3D9zqI5slWaa7nkaqvM/s1600/patagonia3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOGVaVfjra1timFFXig3CFhl8Gn7qByTIBiL2wlPzoafHAmYypBc3mWjQ2jdXh9Kr_hmrJnJSwP54l_C0cMudo692uZ7DSgiSH3Ud44IWSa5hqJK2My49-vJcL3D9zqI5slWaa7nkaqvM/s1600/patagonia3.jpg" /></a>This review is from my second visit to Patagonia, and it's with somewhat of a heavy heart that I have to write it. My first visit was quite a while ago now, when a group of friends and I visited with little knowledge of the restaurant and few expectations. That meal had that ever so rare pleasure you get when you accidentally stumble across a gem. Starters, mains and dessert for all of our party were beautifully presented, petite and pretty, tender and tasty. We were served some of the best-cooked meat i've ever eaten on that occasion. I loved the place and despite my best efforts it's taken me over a year to return.<br />
In a strange way I wish I hadn't revisited, as it's caused me somewhat to question my memory of a meal, and like Descartes before me, it led me to question everything I know about the relationship between knowledge and the senses. If my first meal had so overwhelmed me that I sang it's praises to everyone I met, then how come on my second visit, could I find that I got it so wrong? I was overcome with crisis, torn apart by self-doubt and plagued with suicidal thoughts towards my blog. Thankfully, after spilling my heart out to the misses in a flood of tears, she told me to stop being such a tosser, and that the restaurant was probably just having a bad night.<br />
She should know as she was with me on both occasions, has a far better palate, and isn't as prone to melodrama as I am.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cI9aZBSPhi-HOB6ARlInpGofAQDKRP3dC60AMzONWoKI7G5AFHWw6tK1odg7z93xuo1Q6qI9s9qAr61wQpiFq8W8SSsVhymRKOO7tyvX8j5Pk-5NGJtQZWH8wbeV5_Z_J0NZd3SSOjZa/s1600/IMG_0495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cI9aZBSPhi-HOB6ARlInpGofAQDKRP3dC60AMzONWoKI7G5AFHWw6tK1odg7z93xuo1Q6qI9s9qAr61wQpiFq8W8SSsVhymRKOO7tyvX8j5Pk-5NGJtQZWH8wbeV5_Z_J0NZd3SSOjZa/s200/IMG_0495.JPG" width="200" /></a>We went along on a Saturday night and were pleased to see the place was busy. We were lucky enough to be seated next to the window, so we could laugh at the people struggling through the rain outside, but unfortunately the table for two they gave us would barely accommodate one. This was silly, as Patagonia doesn't seem to lack the floor space to make the tables that little bit bigger. Granted the restaurant isn't the biggest place, but a slight re-jig would work wonders.<br />
For starters I ordered a smoked eel and pork agnalotto (I wanted the tuna belly confit, but someone more fortunate must have already eaten it all). It looked fantastic surrounded with an applesauce, but the bowl it was served in forced my wrists into some awkward positions as I tried to attack it from some obtuse angles. The first few bites were heaven, but it did start to taste a bit like baby food and I was quite relieved when I finished it.<br />
The misses had ordered the beetroot risotto and I’m sure the kitchen was short on salt that night as it was the first of our under seasoned dishes. It again looked lovely but it's beauty belied it's bland, flavourless eating.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJWkDnBuAyLX7wfeHqL_ZQOsJ0lwPhtMhTmhOjqoMVgd_eHht9MP2388mhw4FVkpVeVvhQeWQ_K74VTAg05HG7F4nugzB664Q4LaD-nTcmuLZOtvBvRXWy6vTtCKC8UOilU0QyMpWWHKE/s1600/View+IMAG0044.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJWkDnBuAyLX7wfeHqL_ZQOsJ0lwPhtMhTmhOjqoMVgd_eHht9MP2388mhw4FVkpVeVvhQeWQ_K74VTAg05HG7F4nugzB664Q4LaD-nTcmuLZOtvBvRXWy6vTtCKC8UOilU0QyMpWWHKE/s1600/View+IMAG0044.jpeg" /></a>For mains we both decided on the duck, but since I’m writing the blog and she wouldn't budge I was forced to opt for the venison. I didn't mind so much as my head was still awash with thoughts of the meat we'd eaten on our last visit, but once again I felt let down. The meat was cooked to the degree I like, but was fibrous, slightly tough and again lacking salt. The mashed potato that it came with thankfully wasn't under seasoned and had been beaten into a rich, smooth puree .I could happily have eaten my own substantial body weight of it.<br />
Onto her duck. A large breast was again plated beautifully, although lacking an accompaniment of deep-fried confit leg ravioli, which the kitchen had promised. They realised they're mistake just as we realised it was missing, so all credit to them, but strangely the ravioli was more reminiscent of Cornwall than Italy. The deep-frying had given it the strange quality of a Ginsters pasty and was a bit disappointing. The duck breast was well cooked but again no-where near the heady heights we remembered, and would have benefited from a thicker sauce. The pan juices it was served with were just too weak for a meat that goes so well with the sort of sauce that sticks to the top of your mouth.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnijEYr-fXcHxrjkhRcbs5WjQ2GfczH0RyM1mssPtUveqq0YPd5sJft_1VTuzRNkBGhxfuBzoxZ4bOmF_pZBoTBXxAtci5-_KIiHGRu8EJ7AcqjwAuS8qb309cI1atcHzEbYT4Oc1sujk9/s1600/IMG_0496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnijEYr-fXcHxrjkhRcbs5WjQ2GfczH0RyM1mssPtUveqq0YPd5sJft_1VTuzRNkBGhxfuBzoxZ4bOmF_pZBoTBXxAtci5-_KIiHGRu8EJ7AcqjwAuS8qb309cI1atcHzEbYT4Oc1sujk9/s200/IMG_0496.JPG" width="200" /></a>After a nice bottle of wine we were ready to leave, so avoided dessert as nothing on offer sounded particularly appealing and ordered the bill.<br />
I left with a heavy heart, but not because our meal was bad. If this second visit had been our first, then I would still be singing the praises of Patagonia, because the cooking is great, and the service excellent. The under seasoned food let it down more than anything, and although it caused me a crises of conscience, I’m still keen to return.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-83251602200916058962010-11-06T16:58:00.000+00:002010-11-06T16:58:35.447+00:00JambalayaThe misses is from Ireland and on one of our trips back her family took us out to dinner at a place called johnnie fox's. It's one of Irelands oldest pubs, tucked away in the mountains over looking Dublin. It's like every Irish theme pubs wet dream and if you ever get the chance to visit you really should. I’m sure you'll love it. Anyway, on my visit there I ordered the jambalaya and loved it, so when we got back to Cardiff we decided to recreate it, or at least develop our own version. This was about three years ago now, and the recipe has evolved into what I want to share with you today.<br />
This is a Monday night dish for us, using up the leftover meat from the Sunday roast. I think any leftover meat you have will work well, but pork is king so that's what we've settled on. This is a boisterous dish with the addition of king prawns and smoked sausage to ensure that every mouthful is a meaty one. Here is what you'll need:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyTTtKvfs6Pv4fNGy_JMazERxYm5ebVwAnYwogaCj5THfY9JruGqYxfwwUVIIBTM8EoxZV2NO952ja22-LXlwCHPZfCnV9_taEGYD4VhkqIQP8nFaOiWFqEy_DNXgsF5DoPVGeWl7sw-4/s1600/P1020884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyTTtKvfs6Pv4fNGy_JMazERxYm5ebVwAnYwogaCj5THfY9JruGqYxfwwUVIIBTM8EoxZV2NO952ja22-LXlwCHPZfCnV9_taEGYD4VhkqIQP8nFaOiWFqEy_DNXgsF5DoPVGeWl7sw-4/s320/P1020884.JPG" width="320" /></a>Smoked sausage (I recommend the garlic and herb chorizo from bath pig.)<br />
Left over meat<br />
10-15 King prawns<br />
1 ½ tbsp. Cajun seasoning<br />
1 Green Bell pepper<br />
1 Leek<br />
1 Red chilli<br />
1 large clove of garlic<br />
1 Bunch of spring onions<br />
1 Tin of chopped tomatoes<br />
450ml chicken stock<br />
250g rice<br />
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1.Toss the left over meat in the Cajun seasoning<br />
2. Fry the sausage to release its oil<br />
3. Add the seasoned meat to the sausage and fry for a bit<br />
4. Add all the veg (except spring onion) to the pan and to soften and brown slightly, adding the garlic and chilli last<br />
5. Add the rice and stir to coat in the oil and juices in the pan<br />
6. Add tomatoes and stock and bring to the boil<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoOEStdJGgwfTnj0RG2RptmhVc9Ca7lyUcDrFNRY4ZUeWPyTNqxko-R7vNxdfP3lI8ymFkhzR7dKgJP3_DKn4nRS8M6OgSrtsH8iTPIYBWlbYzRGjYhTORj3qnIY7ZAWocndjcAXBl-FF/s1600/P1020887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoOEStdJGgwfTnj0RG2RptmhVc9Ca7lyUcDrFNRY4ZUeWPyTNqxko-R7vNxdfP3lI8ymFkhzR7dKgJP3_DKn4nRS8M6OgSrtsH8iTPIYBWlbYzRGjYhTORj3qnIY7ZAWocndjcAXBl-FF/s200/P1020887.JPG" width="200" /></a>7. Reduce to a simmer, sit back and relax for 30/35 mins until the rice is cooked to your liking<br />
8. Fry prawns in a separate pan and add when the rice is cooked<br />
9. Mix through finely chopped spring onions<br />
10. Place in a bowl, grab a fork, sit back and enjoy.<br />
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If the long slow process is how you already do your scrambled eggs then this article isn't for you, but then I’m sure you'll understand why people need to be told.<br />
You'll need a good non stick pan for this. I use a small saucepan to cook two eggs previously beaten in a bowl with salt, pepper and a bit of paprika and feel free to add any herbs of your choosing.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhbRTOUWO4YVxhvRiitxerTFwT-cEeAwdAQLt-nHbVtkHDoam8mFqvVNK8K2Pi8t3Rng4LydyI1jyT-evAQJByu0yAWbTPQCuDirjWK63YM4dN2iDx0D0iVFNyNNOb0CCj9BO9a8WRwj6/s1600/P1020894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhbRTOUWO4YVxhvRiitxerTFwT-cEeAwdAQLt-nHbVtkHDoam8mFqvVNK8K2Pi8t3Rng4LydyI1jyT-evAQJByu0yAWbTPQCuDirjWK63YM4dN2iDx0D0iVFNyNNOb0CCj9BO9a8WRwj6/s200/P1020894.JPG" width="200" /></a>Now, melt a knob of butter in the pan until it bubbles, and over the lowest burner on your hob, add the beaten eggs. The trick is to continuously scrape the bottom of the pan, pulling the just warm egg back to be replaced with more liquid egg. It's important to remove the pan from the flame every now and again if you feel that the eggs are cooking too quickly, this is down to your instinct as a cook, but what you most definitely don't want to see are your eggs clumping into lumps. Remember your trying to produce a smooth lump free end result.<br />
After about five minutes you should notice the consistency has changed slightly, the liquid being slightly more viscous and custard like. If it's still lump free then your doing great and on the right track.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wkIpADiS5_ue00AigX7_udioDVQq5NZmbsj2BQiaIbdGnOB132c6nXGH6LKT20gW8MHlmK1YzSORQDECAu593zE9Qmvu_Z2fHo_32a7JG_eCJEJ6TKjcPHRtqbtEenWaFVr5yI6OtPOI/s1600/P1020896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wkIpADiS5_ue00AigX7_udioDVQq5NZmbsj2BQiaIbdGnOB132c6nXGH6LKT20gW8MHlmK1YzSORQDECAu593zE9Qmvu_Z2fHo_32a7JG_eCJEJ6TKjcPHRtqbtEenWaFVr5yI6OtPOI/s200/P1020896.JPG" width="200" /></a>Keep pulling that egg back from the bottom of the pan until you achieve something akin to rice pudding consistency. This takes me about ten to fifteen minutes. Now it’s up to you how much further you want to take it. I like my end result to have a bit of a wobble to it, so when shaken it settles like a good risotto.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDh3-EzmBvlQcaDnzNV3NhfxIOFFEXA2xDckgjOFoy7x9JGS78eBhSp4ITMw6rUtiiYQJG6RqawG1antkuKKDOJLnGuRQmYBsl2M7j9Pb3KbYCqz7awTHDdzgiCNZGAYDVL6UVNWYiTWO/s1600/P1020897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDh3-EzmBvlQcaDnzNV3NhfxIOFFEXA2xDckgjOFoy7x9JGS78eBhSp4ITMw6rUtiiYQJG6RqawG1antkuKKDOJLnGuRQmYBsl2M7j9Pb3KbYCqz7awTHDdzgiCNZGAYDVL6UVNWYiTWO/s200/P1020897.JPG" width="200" /></a>Eaten with some chorizo or black pudding these eggs are heaven on a plate, and I guarantee you'll be impressed with just how creamy and also how superior they are to the two-minute high heat method. Please don't be put off by my shitty presentation in the last pic, but have a go yourself. I promise you you'll love them.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-83360930010997520022010-10-26T14:44:00.001+01:002011-01-23T12:36:40.686+00:00The Conway<div>23/10/2010</div>The Conway<br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">58 Conway Road</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">Pontcanna</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">CF11 9NW</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">02920 224373</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://knifeandforkfood.co.uk/conway">http://knifeandforkfood.co.uk/conway</a> </span></span><br />
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I've long read in envy, the newspaper reviews of what's become known as the gastropub. Places like The Harwood Arms and The Eagle have had me salivating at the possibility of combining my two great loves; the pub and good, hearty, well cooked food. Unfortunately, whilst Londoners have had the privilege of these sort of places for quite some time, we in Cardiff haven't been so lucky. Even the Americans have had them for longer, With April Bloomfield exporting the idea to New York, and to great acclaim, at The Spotted Pig and The Breslin. I managed to eat at The Breslin not long after it opened in the hope that I might finally experience the thrill of the gastropub, but although the food was fantastic, the pub part just wasn’t. So, I returned back to the U.K. with a heavy heart and to more of the same tantalising reviews, which i longingly poured over. All this, I’m glad to say, has changed slightly with the arrival of The Conway.<br />
It's taken me quite some time to get down there to eat, but I’ve kept an eye on the place and heard talk of well cooked pub grub. This led me to hope that in The Conway I’d find my gastropub, or at least something approaching it.<br />
The pub feels quite nice inside, but it does suffer from the same design that plagues many pubs these days. The muted colour schemes and large leather couches. The rough worn wooden tables and miss matched chairs. The bookcases of magazines and games. It's all designed to give a relaxed, personal, natural feeling to the place, to make the customer feel like they’re at home amongst friends. The problem for me is that the opposite is true of this sort of place. You're never going to get to know the other locals at a pub like this, and the barstaff are never going to know your name and have a pint waiting on the bar for you without you asking. This is a minor complaint for me as it's not my local, and so I could also be wrong, but anyway, it's the food I’m mainly interested in.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj895Xj1G2xuSHT7PZsa3gib_GDIqVkCIA8FM6NqV6nsUH_rmWz_3Ng3qoY1RptT40Iv7BvUB39oTcWIifkDe1xd-9Q8B_toI7QjITP2OsLgygKbueL0iK0laeZssiD_BcRNiCILFXaBeKv/s1600/IMG_0456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj895Xj1G2xuSHT7PZsa3gib_GDIqVkCIA8FM6NqV6nsUH_rmWz_3Ng3qoY1RptT40Iv7BvUB39oTcWIifkDe1xd-9Q8B_toI7QjITP2OsLgygKbueL0iK0laeZssiD_BcRNiCILFXaBeKv/s200/IMG_0456.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
The misses and myself popped down there to meet some friends on a Saturday afternoon and I can't tell you how happy I was when I saw the chalkboard menu. Braised ox cheek pie / pork loin, ham hock and black pudding / grey mullet and chorizo, all got my juices flowing as they caught my eye like a barmaid flashing me her tits. This was approaching my ideal menu and the choices just got better and better. Finally, after much angst-ridden deliberation I settled on a fish dish. The cod, cockles and arborio fishcake came loosely formed and was lovely and heavy and filling, surrounded by a generous pool of cream and topped with sauce gribiche and a sliver of crisp cod skin. It felt like a cosy autumnal fish dish. At £12 it was very well priced. Added to that as an extra were some of the best chips I’ve had in a long time, possibly since that trip to The Breslin, thick and crunchy with fluffy insides, the whole thing acting as the antidote to the chilly weather outside.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjT7um024Ip3gC_h-RBnyOe2VM_3cr28HUUhkuApYE37LfwzogsJb7OsqyaPGFP7NPkwT49Dlc03hWbmBntMwsnVlXcejqlbZCKRDeXW5ezbHo-EfPNk2osYFYtVGOZNROziBU8dj2Qy6/s1600/IMG_0455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjT7um024Ip3gC_h-RBnyOe2VM_3cr28HUUhkuApYE37LfwzogsJb7OsqyaPGFP7NPkwT49Dlc03hWbmBntMwsnVlXcejqlbZCKRDeXW5ezbHo-EfPNk2osYFYtVGOZNROziBU8dj2Qy6/s200/IMG_0455.JPG" width="200" /></a>The misses ordered chicken thighs with mustard mash and said the chicken was lovely and moist with a crisp skin. The wholegrain mustard in the mash was plentiful, giving the dish a mild kick. Care had been taken with the presentation as well, with the bones trimmed and cleaned spotless. For £10 this was a filling and satisfying dish<br />
A cheese platter was ordered for £6 and was plentiful with four different cheeses and plenty of crackers and biscuits. The only dish we weren't happy with was also the most expensive on the menu. The Usk valley T-bone steak at £21 was a dish that pleased and annoyed in equal measure. The meat was of excellent quality and perfectly cooked but came alone on a plate, to be joined by a separate bowl of chips, a jug of bitter unpleasant jus and a ramekin of butter. This wasn't so much a dish as a fucking Lego set, and most striking of all was the complete lack of anything green. My friend asked if they could provide something and another small bowl of mixed leaves came out with a £2.50 price tag. The whole thing just felt a bit silly and out of place with the dishes we were served and that were being served around us.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMK2SR-IuTtCzWUOGMCK0Xa5EpO2NbzYr-0LRYQ121wz_kxDKkM5NwitvDayoWxrFnzPWFp_sIfInkKN-f7-b1L75nOCe1GP3uQCIEu1-Ca0aKBE_CvZsnMnGCH6azDGVuL7IGr9cI5-4-/s1600/IMG_0457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMK2SR-IuTtCzWUOGMCK0Xa5EpO2NbzYr-0LRYQ121wz_kxDKkM5NwitvDayoWxrFnzPWFp_sIfInkKN-f7-b1L75nOCe1GP3uQCIEu1-Ca0aKBE_CvZsnMnGCH6azDGVuL7IGr9cI5-4-/s200/IMG_0457.JPG" width="200" /></a>The barman did a fine job of pulling the pints then rushing back and forth to the kitchen to get our food, but the workload was too much for one human being, and an enquiry as to the names of the cheeses we had, never got answered. Then a request for mustard saw it arrive as the last of the beef was being polished off. I assume they were short staffed on this visit or else that poor barman deserves a medal and a payrise.<br />
This was my first visit to The Conway and I can't wait to go back and sample the rest of the menu. I've mentioned some bad and some good but on the whole I found the place a great success. It's not the gastropub of my dreams as the pub side is lacking but the food I tried is amongst the best in Cardiff. I only hope that we didn't just get lucky with our orders but that the ox cheeks and the pork loin and ham hock are just as good. I'm sure they are as the kitchen seems to take a real pride in it's ingredients, and is keen to show of it's suppliers, and that's very important and all too rare in Cardiff. I’ll keep you informed if the standard slips though, as although the house prices in Pontcanna mean I’ll never be a local of The Conway, I do hope to become a regular.<br />
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</div></div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-15266177129993045942010-10-19T18:37:00.000+01:002010-10-19T18:37:39.131+01:00On cooking an Octopus.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrsDk-UbRbvDmsnOqabG21b3DTHoRIaEEDpfRE40RPz1AcGyal3EUW9jjrFxJkjuLp3Mp6YDDgW4nkulM4Nnf49Yw4R8GLIMFPMXhIPN9PyNBgecy0IQ10tcIBgtlfgdFMEBFXKeRwP_L/s1600/P1020846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrsDk-UbRbvDmsnOqabG21b3DTHoRIaEEDpfRE40RPz1AcGyal3EUW9jjrFxJkjuLp3Mp6YDDgW4nkulM4Nnf49Yw4R8GLIMFPMXhIPN9PyNBgecy0IQ10tcIBgtlfgdFMEBFXKeRwP_L/s200/P1020846.JPG" width="200" /></a>A friend of mine recently made an impulse purchase of octopus whilst out shopping and asked me if I knew of any good recipes. I had to admit that I had never cooked one before and this left me wondering why not? Octopus is tasty, easily available, and above all cheap, so I really couldn't understand why I’d never had a go. The reason I realised is that they're notoriously difficult to cook. Tough rubbery octopus is never pleasant, and from all I’d heard it took a great skill and a lot of hard work to keep the beasts tender.<br />
Then I remembered the great Harold McGee had taken on the problem and although he hadn't solved it conclusively, I thought I’d give his advice a go.<br />
The octopus requires 3-4 hrs of cooking, but that time is easily spent sitting around watching telly.<br />
This recipe is so simple I’ve decided to try and explain it in the style of that megalithic rock-faced arse Gordon Ramsay.<br />
Here goes:<br />
<br />
Octopus! - Legs remove! - Head in bin - boiling water! - Blanch legs, 30secs - Oven! 100 degrees - octopus in dry pan - 4hrs. Done!<br />
<br />
McGee explains that an octopus’s body is made up primarily of collagen and for the end result to be tender and juicy, then that collagen needs to melt down and become gelatine. This process and the dry pan style of cooking has the added bonus that the octopus ends up sitting in a wonderful seafood sauce of it's own making. My octopus was indeed tender, and had an incredibly strong flavour of the sea. So strong in fact that my seafood loathing girlfriend wretched when I forced her with the threat of violence to try it, and that, in my book is a result.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKX-hAQN0cuW1Xkb9sAaW-62vEMv3w1JL_NEWXCkUp8GsSO1Q2xIHmKQZMm5IkuDmvaKEO31oSl1xVKpuRO7Mk5UvJPAachtrH6N61IPgFQaRa9dNPN7r-dwtRK44XGm76J9JasV1VioDd/s1600/P1020847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKX-hAQN0cuW1Xkb9sAaW-62vEMv3w1JL_NEWXCkUp8GsSO1Q2xIHmKQZMm5IkuDmvaKEO31oSl1xVKpuRO7Mk5UvJPAachtrH6N61IPgFQaRa9dNPN7r-dwtRK44XGm76J9JasV1VioDd/s320/P1020847.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>It hasn't yet made it to completed dish status as the strong ocean smell filled the house and annoyed the misses so I had to eat it briskly before she binned it, hence the lack of a final photo. I was however so impressed with the finished product that I’m now just waiting for her indoors to go away for a couple of days, so I can cook it again.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-25744192972904822292010-10-19T18:09:00.000+01:002010-10-19T18:09:19.634+01:00My umami mushroom burgerI've been developing this dish for quite some time now (I probably shouldn't say developing as that makes it sound grander than it actually is) since I stumbled across this video for bacon flavour shitake mushrooms on youtube <a href="http://bit.ly/dfKRS0">http://bit.ly/dfKRS0</a>. The idea intrigued me and I popped straight out to the shops to give it a whirl. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t fool someone to think they are actually eating bacon but they definitely are meaty tasting and have the crunch of crispy bacon. I've since been trying to make a mushroom burger that although I’m sure wont fool anyone as being meat, does offer the same satisfaction as a good beef burger. That's a pretty bold claim I know, but I’m a serious carnivore and I really do enjoy this burger.<br />
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The key to it is ramping up the umami quota. Umami translates roughly as delicious and if you're a savoury food lover then umami could be what you crave. I'm not going to go into too much detail where umami is concerned, mainly because I don't fully understand it myself, the science is far too complicated for me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_K8xNlQxC83Aj5-8oH0wiCuiBhBuqRDhwKYCmYt386_8LuBbWtEWZ_HkZa-QeozcuwQVPvgM44wgjRLIsxOt6fKEfQ2CiQd0FxDNFTFjIl8IxYO2iYbDrBYLMUGox5xYj52DmuFwTN7G/s1600/IMG_0447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_K8xNlQxC83Aj5-8oH0wiCuiBhBuqRDhwKYCmYt386_8LuBbWtEWZ_HkZa-QeozcuwQVPvgM44wgjRLIsxOt6fKEfQ2CiQd0FxDNFTFjIl8IxYO2iYbDrBYLMUGox5xYj52DmuFwTN7G/s200/IMG_0447.JPG" width="200" /></a>Anyway, back to the mushrooms. I slice the shitakes and coat them with a bit of olive oil and salt, then pop them on a baking tray and into the oven at 150C for one hour. You need to give them a bit of a shuffle every now and then. I then leave them to cool as I find the flavour is a lot stronger when they're cold.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPDAyt4YuA7w5qoc2hz3lyOZjNrIUttaZWIZ26baxEIqN5d3zlUVsieXs8_b2lD5l8ksG93UHpZ9SdbMK9UrZCiSvdnQ7-oiEpmW0Xpy59R5kxmk2t86vIN9HYhyphenhyphenFta2iCo2UPMXL-edm/s1600/IMG_0449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPDAyt4YuA7w5qoc2hz3lyOZjNrIUttaZWIZ26baxEIqN5d3zlUVsieXs8_b2lD5l8ksG93UHpZ9SdbMK9UrZCiSvdnQ7-oiEpmW0Xpy59R5kxmk2t86vIN9HYhyphenhyphenFta2iCo2UPMXL-edm/s200/IMG_0449.JPG" width="200" /></a>Now onto step two. I use two large portobello mushrooms as the body of the beast, removing the stalk so they sit better in the roll. These need to be rubbed with what might be my favourite ingredient; fish sauce. This foul smelling nectar gets added to most of my dishes these days. People look at me funny when I add a good slosh to my ragu or stew, but the only time you notice it is when you don't add it. Food tastes sort of flatter without it ,the dish having less depth.<br />
I allow the sauce with the addition of a bit of salt to soak in for ten minutes or so whilst I turn my attention to the roll.<br />
I use a good crusty roll to provide a bit of resistance and bite and I also butter then grill them. This allows the butter to melt into the bread, and also adds some more crunch.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The portobellos now need to be grilled for 7 or 8 mins till cooked through and then a layer of grated parmesan is added covering the gills of the mushrooms. Pop them back under the grill to melt the cheese and you're set.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMWi8QLMYmFTGbjShHxb_1iUBCTP9jXelI_VaAhzQZ9XmkcqbyhSvIA43LgizOoKD5fTqlTfsXs8WPKFvXdNf5A264x0StI14tjkpsAVDTih6jVJPlpy77PGsAFfOQ_UQ5dctN1D1R-5UL/s1600/P1020852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMWi8QLMYmFTGbjShHxb_1iUBCTP9jXelI_VaAhzQZ9XmkcqbyhSvIA43LgizOoKD5fTqlTfsXs8WPKFvXdNf5A264x0StI14tjkpsAVDTih6jVJPlpy77PGsAFfOQ_UQ5dctN1D1R-5UL/s200/P1020852.JPG" width="200" /></a>As for condiments well that's up to you. I use only english mustard on mine, but tomato sauce is good, as tomatoes are very high in umami. I have tried to make my own tomato sauce using a kilo of cherry tomatoes and although it had a tremendous kick to it, it also tasted like shit so I abandoned it.<br />
So there you go my recipe for the perfect mushroom burger.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-6366379733274150282010-10-16T15:28:00.001+01:002011-01-23T12:37:35.988+00:00Bully's restaurant14/10/2010<br />
Bully's restaurant<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">5 Romilly Crescent, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Cardiff, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">South Glamorgan </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><nobr>029 2022 1905</nobr></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><nobr><a href="http://www.bullysrestaurant.co.uk/">http://www.bullysrestaurant.co.uk/</a> </nobr></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><nobr>Gourmet night, meal for one including wine and tip = £77</nobr></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><nobr><br />
</nobr></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAzGbJll0eK2V9GZ4ujoGWBTt4PHMhPx1ke0wIEDlsyDrkDnFtd7WkHkAC1xlhDbVXUkaw4rdeLLuvmx-9rwVyV_djhXERwK9nS8iQhCTN-SqrQ-EwmA5XNQlKMeFz1mFp-FVKgd53OOv/s1600/bully.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAzGbJll0eK2V9GZ4ujoGWBTt4PHMhPx1ke0wIEDlsyDrkDnFtd7WkHkAC1xlhDbVXUkaw4rdeLLuvmx-9rwVyV_djhXERwK9nS8iQhCTN-SqrQ-EwmA5XNQlKMeFz1mFp-FVKgd53OOv/s1600/bully.jpg" /></a>I'm often filled with a sense of dread when recommending places to friends, which is why I will endeavour to make my reviews on here as honest and also, as critical as possible. I dread sending someone to a restaurant where although I had a fantastic time, I know full well they could end up spending their hard earned cash and having a nightmare of an evening, leaving them to hate me more than they already did. This however has never happened with Bully's, it's just not that sort of place.<br />
On their website they explain the etymology of the the table d’hôte as originally being a farmhouse that welcomed friends and fed them well, and although it's cliched, dining at bullys does feel as though you're being welcomed into the owners home. The interior on first glance looks jumbled, even tacky but on closer inspection is actually idiosyncratic. A framed fat duck menu and various receipts from what I assume were the owners memorable trips away decorate the walls along with various pictures and nic-nacs, and a bar piled high with food and wine reference books. It also has touches of real style from the frontage that reminds one of New York to the brilliantly understated drawings on the place mats.<br />
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The food I’ve had here has never been anything less than exemplary although my girlfriend did recently have a squid and chorizo starter (we seem to have ended up regretting that choice recently) that was a complete abortion. The squid was tough as leather and the chorizo amounted to one micro-thin solitary slice. To be completely honest with you, I’m not entirely sure why we didn't send it back to the kitchen and I’m quite annoyed in hindsight that we didn't, as bullys is the sort of place that strives for better service and this rare glitch I’m sure would have been taken care of for us.<br />
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Every now and then, the owners like to have what they call a gourmet night, and since we had enjoyed the restaurant so much, we thought we'd sign up and give it a go.<br />
The evening is structured around a "seven course" menu (the inverted commas there are me being pedantic, as I don't believe that an amuse bouche, nor palate cleansing sorbet should really count as a course) with each dish accompanied by a wine pairing.<br />
We arrived at seven on a Thursday evening and sat down at a table loaded with various wineglasses, one of which contained a sparkling wine. Before we came here we weren't sure of how the night would pan out and whether or not we would have to buy more wine to keep us going between each course, but we soon found this wasn't to be the case, for as soon as our champagne flutes approached empty, the staff were on hand to top us back up. We knew right then that we were in for one hell of a boozy evening.<br />
Our hosts for the evening were the owner’s son Russell and the lovely wine expert Hannah. Both of whom showed an incredible enthusiasm for, and knowledge of, what we were to be served.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTF2kOytw6eLJm4K35LUCYuIIcPsknZ97H_tCPufGvlHwb1Ups-_PILv9xMdnJK1ggmxvRcJA0A_yhtAzmRNR7mArmExA-GbKI2p99mjsU6jVs_ToBMaP9K-Ok_cS9-E3pNAacLtsnfv9h/s1600/halibut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTF2kOytw6eLJm4K35LUCYuIIcPsknZ97H_tCPufGvlHwb1Ups-_PILv9xMdnJK1ggmxvRcJA0A_yhtAzmRNR7mArmExA-GbKI2p99mjsU6jVs_ToBMaP9K-Ok_cS9-E3pNAacLtsnfv9h/s200/halibut.jpg" width="149" /></a>The first dish out was the amuse, and it was for me the real highlight of what proved to be a really great night out. An espresso cup of courgette and garlic soup came topped with a drizzle of smoked oil. The smokiness hitting the nose before the beautifully rich and deep soup hit the tongue. This really is a fabulous creation and I can only hope to see it on the menu as a starter in it's own right, as it's far to good to stay confined to amuse status. I'm afraid I can't go into the wine parings as my knowledge of wine is practically nil so I’m afraid I’d do a disservice to Hannah, who took so much time to explain each one. Suffice to say that everything we drank that evening was delicious and plentiful.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kKmqli5uI4wZfveeEgBEuDKUHGme2gjDyzB6zS1830RErawHtDmSIlUrzdO5L1pgGPvR0Me9XeRWZ5evTBdehAsuy2hmrz82aZ2axbVFqohY-EXDqvcOkwcX4QoX-zrqlV_te62jrntM/s1600/sorbet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kKmqli5uI4wZfveeEgBEuDKUHGme2gjDyzB6zS1830RErawHtDmSIlUrzdO5L1pgGPvR0Me9XeRWZ5evTBdehAsuy2hmrz82aZ2axbVFqohY-EXDqvcOkwcX4QoX-zrqlV_te62jrntM/s200/sorbet.jpg" width="149" /></a>Second out of the kitchen came an anchovy and olive tart, which I really couldn't make my mind up about. The anchovies were the best I’ve ever tasted, but their heavy umami savouriness contrasted too strongly with the sweet olives and tomato sauce that accompanied the tart. It felt like eating two different dishes in one, and was not something I’d be in a rush to order again.<br />
The fish course though got the evening back on track. A thick chunk of halibut came on top of fine haricots verts and surrounded with vanilla sauce. Everyone on my table agreed that the fish was perfectly cooked, and the vanilla was a suprising accompaniment but worked well with the robust, meaty fish. I did feel that the dish needed another component, something crispy or crunchy to complete it, but nonetheless it was a fine dish.<br />
It was now time for what was to be the most booze drenched dish I’ve ever been served. A Bombay rum sorbet served in a martini glass, drowning in alcohol. The rum was lovely as was the sorbet but it was all too sweet for me to finish so I ended up passing it to a friend who happily polished it off.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSNSgrrSu6_gu29mi4gxFjfsvwMAuAo_J524BC3iXM-ztbgXFrE93VKv8biprpZFB0FIqnQcoh2TdRB4wUfdfD3GO1qFf6PSTJ3nlrv1OFCXfMsWsrLasBjYrRkQuQoh1pBCc-51EiZMM/s1600/lamb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSNSgrrSu6_gu29mi4gxFjfsvwMAuAo_J524BC3iXM-ztbgXFrE93VKv8biprpZFB0FIqnQcoh2TdRB4wUfdfD3GO1qFf6PSTJ3nlrv1OFCXfMsWsrLasBjYrRkQuQoh1pBCc-51EiZMM/s200/lamb.jpg" width="149" /></a>The main event was next and we were presented with the meat course of lamb shank in a meaux mustard sauce, with roasted root veg. Russell had introduced the dish as a refined, petite lamb cutlet, but what we were served was a gorgeous hunk of meat on the bone speckled with the mustard seeds of the sauce. This was how all lamb shanks should be. Our knives were un-called for as our forks did a grand job of teasing the tender meat of the bone, revealing the sticky, succulent fat. I loved this piece of meat to such an extent that I ended up picking the remnants from everyone else’s bones so that none would go to waste. The carrots were cooked to perfection, all sweet and caramelised but I thought the potatoes would have been put to better use mashed, as this dish was crying out for creamy mashed potato. All in all a bloody lovely dish.<br />
We were all by now feeling very full, and very, very pissed when out came the cheese. A wooden board contained two cheeses, a grossmont and a beaufort. The former being soft and brie-like almost buttery in consistency and very mild. I adored it. The latter was far too strong for a cheese wuss like me, but everyone else seemed to prefer it, even if the smell of trench foot it gave off lingered in the air long after the platter was removed.<br />
Finally after a very long and enjoyable evening we were served desert. The best way I can describe it is as a deconstructed snickers bar. A bitter dark chocolate, surrounded by a salt-caramel sauce and peanuts. It was a good dish, but I personally found the chocolate too bitter, although no one on our table failed to polish it off completely, some even rubbing their drunken fingers through the remnants of sauce left on the plate.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggrkHSd_71P1Jfe0RrT8-8UA-mOGYZGyhqZ-Kr7V6n7yhyphenhyphenbU6F2sDFLn32CBmJrsh56nJl8pPimQCjCTpcpvXefTQW2PcUzW7PJyMqmcibN7PfbEp3MlVfoPi7a6i2DSQLmQSS-ur3I2ES/s1600/snickers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggrkHSd_71P1Jfe0RrT8-8UA-mOGYZGyhqZ-Kr7V6n7yhyphenhyphenbU6F2sDFLn32CBmJrsh56nJl8pPimQCjCTpcpvXefTQW2PcUzW7PJyMqmcibN7PfbEp3MlVfoPi7a6i2DSQLmQSS-ur3I2ES/s200/snickers.jpg" width="149" /></a>By the time we paid our bill and ordered taxis, we'd been in Bully's for four hours and what a four hours it had been. I was lucky enough when in New York to eat five courses at a michelin starred restaurant for just $50 (at the time £28) which was an absolute bargain, and Bullys gourmet night comes a close second in terms of value for money. I did have a few niggles with the food, but it was on the whole very good, and we were all wowed with the generosity when it came to topping up glasses. If you get the chance to partake in one of Bullys gourmet nights then I suggest you grab it with both hands. I will definitely be at the next one, although I know now to take the following day off work to recover<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-61643916594809146912010-10-16T13:34:00.001+01:002011-01-23T12:38:21.742+00:00Ffresh restaurant8/10/2010<br />
Ffresh Restaurant<br />
<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Wales Millennium Centre, Bute Pl, Cardiff CF10 5AL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><nobr>029 2063 6465</nobr> </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wmc.org.uk/index.cfm?alias=ffresh">http://www.wmc.org.uk/index.cfm?alias=ffresh</a></span></span></span><br />
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Meal for three including wine and tip = £105<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsZvhGlvBbWLd-5dVo3_iIeHfuHEhzT4kbntu-nqDo7Wdh-eYJV56TLPAko_JQSkKaY4gh6VqoFGxxQh-t1tsxamqUtFxCIjm2YugZRK24CudnXqjZUPjJ3aR1n4_k8OPfKEDd4cu7KWd/s1600/ffresh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsZvhGlvBbWLd-5dVo3_iIeHfuHEhzT4kbntu-nqDo7Wdh-eYJV56TLPAko_JQSkKaY4gh6VqoFGxxQh-t1tsxamqUtFxCIjm2YugZRK24CudnXqjZUPjJ3aR1n4_k8OPfKEDd4cu7KWd/s200/ffresh.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
The location Ffresh currently occupies has had somewhat of a troubled past with restaurants opening, failing and closing along with the tides in Cardiff bay. I wasn't even aware that Ffresh existed until I stumbled upon a review in a free Cardiff magazine. What grabbed my attention was the consultancy of Shaun Hill; the respected Michelin starred chef who now owns the walnut tree in Abergavenny. On the strength of reading this, and also that one of his dishes (I think it was a partridge pudding) was on the menu, we decided to give it a go and headed down there on a Saturday night. On reflection this was one of the best dining decisions we've ever made.<br />
Everything about that first meal was fantastic. Three of us ate there that first evening, and all were wowed by the intense flavour and creativity, and couldn't find a single fault with any of the dishes we ate. Now you need to understand that this is a very rare occurrence for someone as miserable and bitter as myself who strives to find fault in everything, but as much as I tried I just couldn't. Even dessert which I generally only use to fill me up if I’m still peckish at the end of a meal brought a smile to my face. This meal was quite some time ago so I regret I can provide few details of the dishes but they really were fantastic and filling and washed down with a few bottles of beautiful Chilean Merlot, and the best was yet to come.<br />
The bill for a meal is something that generally makes me miserable, but on this occasion left me strangely guilty. We had all just enjoyed one of the finest meals Cardiff has to offer and thanks to the deal they were running at the time (sadly no longer available) we were paying only a fraction of what it had been worth.<br />
Only a few weeks earlier we had suffered through the worst dining experience of our lives at another Cardiff eatery and had now had the fortune to stumble across a gem. I could sense Buddha re-apportioning karma in our favour with his chubby little hands.<br />
We were however disheartened by the fact that we were almost the only people in a restaurant that looks like it could accommodate hundreds, and this worried us. Cardiff is not known for it's abundance of excellent restaurants, so the few that we do have, you would hope to be packed to the rafters on a Saturday night, but hopefully they make enough money from the lunch and pre-theatre crowd to stay comfortably afloat.<br />
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Our most recent trip was on a Friday night, and the same three of us who tried it the first time were back once again. In keeping with the spirit of that first meal (and because I’m skint) we decided to go for the cheapest option, which is now the pre-theatre menu.<br />
It consists of a generous four choices at each course, and predictably all three of us wanted the same thing, but since I had to write this review I bit the bullet and ordered my second choice. <br />
A haddock fishcake with chilli jam to start, was full of flavour with a crisp exterior but a little on the dry side as though it had sat around waiting for me a little too long. The chilli jam was sweet and complimented the cake. For my main I chose the chicken breast. This again was approaching dry but tasted so nice that I ended up nibbling at the small bone for every last morsel. It was served with the best bubble and squeak I’ve ever tasted. my mums that I grew up loving were proved piss-poor in comparison, but then she never charged me for her food so I’ll forgive her. A rich, deep gravy had me running my fingers round the bowl but the green beans that were provided were a little too al-dente, but this was a tiny complaint of an otherwise pleasing dish.<br />
My companions won the overall meal though with a ham hock terrine and piccalilli, which tasted clean and crisp. Followed by a braised rump of lamb, the shoulder advertised not being available. The meat was rare and tender and meltingly good, causing my girlfriend to note that it was some of the best meat she'd ever tasted (which made me feel slightly insecure).<br />
Deserts were a little disappointing, lacking the flare and inventiveness of the ones we'd tried on our first visit. A sticky toffee pudding did exactly what it said on the tin coming drenched in butterscotch sauce. The chocolate tart my girlfriend ordered came topped with a delicious vanilla-specked chantilly cream, which everyone adored.<br />
After two bottles of that lovely Chilean Merlot we were all once again feeling very satisfied and pleased with our meal and I now just look forward to the next one.<br />
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A little side note here about the staff. It's always nice to get great service and the staff here are always incredibly friendly and attentive without being clingy and deserve a mention for being so bloody good at what they do. I'm yet to see them struggle through a full service but I like to think they do it with the same grace and courtesy as they've shown us on our many trips.hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729134371816279275.post-76767204848459239702010-10-16T13:13:00.001+01:002011-01-23T12:39:20.941+00:00Village kitchen & bar2/10/2010<br />
Village Kitchen & Bar<br />
<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">25 Merthyr Rd, </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Whitchurch, </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">CARDIFF, </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">South Glamorgan </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">CF14 1DA</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-phone" style="display: inline;"><span class="telephone" dir="ltr"><nobr>029 2062 4000</nobr> </span></span></span><br />
<a href="http://www.thevillagekitchenandbar.com/">http://www.thevillagekitchenandbar.com/</a><br />
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Meal for 4 including wine and tip = £110 (with 10%off)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7lO0hCb24oO4GFC8LwrPCww0qhmJ0xsemMGjgHLulN0p6avd-JZk7ppbwP27OWWvwzAif0OtKEja-lwpE27GbHjEng8LmG-nSe_aHAjpMq2ujeC-T39KWWTLWxQK1gzX6mCOn0blcTtR/s1600/village+kitchen+and+bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7lO0hCb24oO4GFC8LwrPCww0qhmJ0xsemMGjgHLulN0p6avd-JZk7ppbwP27OWWvwzAif0OtKEja-lwpE27GbHjEng8LmG-nSe_aHAjpMq2ujeC-T39KWWTLWxQK1gzX6mCOn0blcTtR/s1600/village+kitchen+and+bar.jpg" /></a>I first ate here not long after it opened. Back then it was a brasserie and had the ubiquitous glass counter stocked with fish and meats that modern brasseries seem to need to justify the name. I'm not sure why a glass cabinet has become the defining feature of the brasserie and google has been no help, so if any readers know why, then please get in touch.<br />
The food back then was good, not blow your socks of good, but a long time later I can still remember I had the crevettes, and I can still remember being quite pleased with them.<br />
The place seemed to receive mixed reviews at the time, the majority not being too positive, so to be on the safe side, I left it a while before returning.<br />
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On my second visit the brasserie title had been shelved along with the cabinet and it was now the kitchen and bar. It seemed to be styling itself as a neighbourhood restaurant serving good solid dishes, which it was. My memory again is a little vague, although I remember my girlfriend’s starter as being a pate with toasts. I remember this, as just like in most places the bread to meat ratio was slightly scew if (Why places don’t provide enough bread to accompany the meat I just don’t know could it be due to the kitchen staff not sampling the completed dish as a diner would?). Anyway, we asked the waitress for some more bread and she happily and promptly obliged. I had the pork belly and although my memory fails me slightly I remember being very satisfied with the dish and pleased with the overall experience.<br />
So why after an enjoyable meal did it take us so long to return to place a two-minute walk from our house? Well that would be due to the ambitious prices. It was never extortionate but it was never a destination eatery either which the pricing seemed to suggest. It always troubled me that a place as reliant on local clientele should feel the need to charge so much for the food. The pricing of dishes is of course the restaurants prerogative and it's not my place to dictate what should and shouldn't be charged, but it is my place to take my business elsewhere if I feel I'm being overcharged and so I did.<br />
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This though I'm pleased to tell you has changed. Some friends of mine recently ate there on a midweek two courses for £12.95 deal and said the food was excellent. This is what neighbourhood eating is all about. Good food at a price where you don't mind taking the extended family for a night out.<br />
After hearing about the great food they were served and that the prices were now more realistic I decided it was high time we returned and so booked a table for a Saturday night.<br />
We arrived 10mins early but were seated upstairs right away. Menus were already on the tables and the drink service was swift. We did however have to wait almost 40mins after ordering for our starters to arrive. It wasn't the greatest inconvenience on the night as we were enjoying ourselves but a wait of that long in other circumstances is a bit much and can often start to grind. <br />
When they did arrive I’m afraid they were a bit hit and miss. My girlfriend’s pate was once again short on the bread, but more was brought on request. She enjoyed it, and I agree it tasted great, but I found it edged to close too watery for my liking. Two of us ordered the squid and chorizo with tomato salsa. My companion enjoyed his but I on the other hand, ever the contrarian thought it a disaster. The squid was over cooked and rubbery, the chorizo undercooked and rubbery, and the salsa lacked any punch. For some reason it was served in a beefed up martini glass which I had to empty onto a plate to make eating it possible. The final starter was scallops on a cauliflower puree, which my friend enjoyed, but said the puree could have been smoother.<br />
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I may have been disappointed with the starter but this wasn't to be the case with the main. I ummed and aghed over the steaks but luckily decided on the pork belly that I’d enjoyed so much the last time, and what a dish it was. It seemed they'd slaughtered a pig in my honour and presented half of the beast atop some crunchy cabbage with what I assume was a honey sauce (although don't quote me on that) The dish was MASSIVE. I can tell you now I loved every single mouthful. This place understands belly and it does it well. The crackling was crisp and plentiful, the meat moist, the fat unctuous.<br />
My fellow diners looked on in envy. That's not to say they didn't enjoy their dishes as a duck and noodle dish I’m told tasted great, if a bit too far medium than duck should be. A chicken ballotine was too dry but when extra sauce was asked for it was provided gratis. The final dish was red mullet which my friend had never eaten before so didn't really want to make any informed comment, but felt it too was a little on the dry side.<br />
All in all it was quite an enjoyable meal. One gripe being the vegetables that are served in bowls to be shared by everyone. They were well cooked and plentiful but didn't match some of the food we were served. Winter veg has no real place with a dish of duck and noodles and I feel the diner would be better served with a complete individual dish, rather than the one size fits all vegetable approach taken here.<br />
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Whilst reviewing the restaurant I'd like to take the chance to offer a little bonus review. This time it's about something very close to my heart; the fried breakfast.<br />
I love a good fry-up. It’s the first dish I started cooking for myself as a teen and although I've never become the best cook, my breakfast has evolved into a thing of beauty. The reason for this is the effort I've put into finding the best ingredients. My sausages are the best I've tried (and I've tried many), as is the black pudding. My white pudding is Clonakilty white pudding, the best there is. My mushrooms don't come from a tin but are button mushrooms cooked in butter and my hash browns are frozen direct from McCains (I know, but they are fucking great hash browns)<br />
A restaurant like the village that caters for breakfasts I feel should take the same pride as myself when serving their diners, so you can imagine my disappointment as I witnessed the breakfast they serve deteriorate before my eyes.<br />
Over the period of three or four weeks myself and some friends visited for breakfast on quite a few occasions, maybe six or seven times, and during this time we watched in horror as the breakfast served to us got worse and worse. The final straw came one morning when dining alone with just a newspaper for company I was served a dish better suited for the bin. The cheap ingredients made cheaper by the cooking. The anaemic sausages hadn't been informed of the maillard reaction, and so left me feeling colder than the mushrooms and egg, but all this was trumped by a waitress so keen to improve efficiency, she decided to stand next to me in the middle of the restaurant and shout orders to the kitchen for ten minutes, rather than walk the 10 paces to the pass and speak at normal volume. It was at this point that I decided my money would be better spent elsewhere and I’m yet to return.<br />
I enjoy what you might term a more high end fry-up so it's with a heavy heart that I have to report what the village breakfast has become, and I truly hope it returns to better form, but at the moment I'm in no rush to sample it again.<br />
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</div>hungry in cardiffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03343874197494929577noreply@blogger.com2