Sunday, 2 June 2019

The pies have it

As I haven’t even started writing up our most recent Oz adventures (I’m currently battling with a backlog of photos, but it’s coming), it does seem a little premature to be talking about how much I miss it. But I do; the place and, most especially, the people. Something that gets more acute with every visit. In fact I was beginning to worry, given the amazing time we had, that getting back to the UK would seem like some terrible anti-climax.

Thankfully we were greeted on our descent into Heathrow with stunning views along the river Thames as it meandered through the heart of London. Making my heart beat a little faster as I picked out all the iconic landmarks along the route. And, as we neared our destination, the spectacle of the sun rising over the endless green fields sent a shiver down my spine. Although that could have been because I couldn't turn that irritating blower thing off.

In order to make the culture shock seem a little less painful, I decided we should make the most of the streak of glorious weather that heralded our return - including sneaking in a trip to see the last of the bluebells at Ashridge - by immersing ourselves fully in the most British of pastimes; pies, pints and sitting outside at the pub. If anything was going to lift us from our post-holiday malaise I felt it was going to be best bitter and meat and potatoes.

The first pie we tried to help ease ourselves back into familiar waters – yes, the Aussies are famously fans of a pastry product, but served with ketchup and a cold lager, which isn’t quite the same thing at all – was at the Flower Pot in Aston, about half way between Henley and Hurley.

The Ewing hadn’t experienced its eccentric delights before, and was very taken with all the eclectic collection of taxidermy in the dining room, including giant carp and a couple of boar heads mounted on the wall.

I was more interested in the beer. As a Brakspear pub, they offer a roster of their real ales, including one of my favourite traditional English ales; Brakspear Bitter. This was in perfect condition, bitter-sweet with a backbone of malt and a gentle floral note from the traditional goldings and fuggles hops. 

Unsparkled, it still had a pleasingly tight head and creaminess and, at a modest 3.4 percent, it meant I could sneak an extra pint in while waiting for dinner. Why be a #craftwanker, when you can be a real ale bore.

For me, late spring is the pretty much the perfect time of year to be outside; not yet too hot, just before the wasps really get going and as the tree pollen count is winding down. The perfect time to enjoy a pub garden, and the Flower Pot has a decent one – large with plenty of tables with sun shades and, on our visit, lots of well-behaved dogs, who seemed to be enjoying the sunshine as much as we were.

Shortly we were also joined by two giant wedges of homemade pie from their pie board - one game (pheasant, partridge and turkey) and one rabbit – both served with chips, peas, and lashings of gravy. Firstly, and most importantly, they possessed a crust both top and bottom. Secondly, it was shortcrust, the supreme baked pie pastry (if we’re not including suet pastry, which is more for a steamed pudding) and thirdly the crust was in turns both crispy and stodgy, in the perfect ratio.

Both pies were excellent, being filled generously with chunks of juicy meat in a creamy, well-seasoned sauce. We didn’t encounter any lead shot, but there were a couple of bits of bone in with the bugs, so beware if you shovel your dinner down with rapacity, as I do. Chips were perfectly OK, and generously portioned and who doesn’t love a frozen pea.

Another great thing about the Flower Pot is its proximity to the Thames - my Dad used to meet his rugby mates here for a pint before meandering up the river to the Henley Regatta. The return journey later is one I'm sure wasn't without incident....

Our trip was far more staid. Wondering up to Hambleden Lock, on the other side of the water, all while dodging the mayflies and marvelling at the length of our shadows the slowly setting sun cast into the meadow. 

A few days later we found ourselves in another quintessentially English corner of the country; Wimborne Minster. This time it was to take Granddad out for lunch at the Stocks Inn in nearby Furzehill. We arrived just as the sun was emerging to be greeted by the sight of two men, wearing wide-brimmed floppy straw hats, thatching the roof. Peak English summer. Apart from the part about the sun emerging; which was still a great surprise. Even more so given that it was also the beginning of a bank holiday weekend.

To drink I started with a pint of Ringwood, brewed just down the road. In all honesty, it wasn’t in great nick, tasting flat and a touch vinegary. Far better was the second pint; the veritable Timothy Taylor Landlord, a Yorkshire bitter than seemed to have travelled far better. Landlord remains a perennial favourite for a reason and supping my pint, with its notes of grass and hay, while sitting in the verdant garden watching the thatcher’s at work, it seemed particularly appropriate.

The second pie of the week was Dorset beef and ale. Again, it was a double-cruster and again made with shortcrust pastry. It was a powerfully flavoured pie with a deep, sticky gravy and big chunks of meat. If I had a criticism, it had dried out around the edges and on the bottom crust. While I don’t mind my meat with some chew, the pastry wasn’t quite as squidgy as I like. 

Chips were, again, perfectly OK. There was also a medley of veg, slightly soggy, but of course I showed willing and finished them all, despite no promise of pudding at the end of it. Even Grandad was too stuffed for crumble, although he did take down an entire lamb shank with mash and asparagus.

Of course, while both pies were fabulous, they really weren’t the point here. I was far more interested in ingesting several pints of cellar temperature real ale, after all the schooners of tasteless suds I’d drunk in Oz. Oh, and spending some time in the bucolic English outdoors with some of my very favourite people. There really is no place like home.

Friday, 24 May 2019

Thai hot

So hey, we’ve been away and now we’re back and I’m super excited to write up all the things we have eaten and drunk over the last month sleep. Of course I (half) jest. As much as I love sleep, I do also want to record some of the culinary highlights of our trip. If only to be able to point my wife to them as a reminder in a couple of weeks when she has somehow contrived to pretty much forget everything we have just done. She can tell you multiple facts about marsupials and the new Spurs stadium, so I’m guessing it’s just spending time with me that she finds unmemorable.

Anyway, we kicked things off with five days in Bangkok, a city we had both visited, but never together. Although with my last visit being as a green teenager, in my knock-off Ralph Lauren Polo shirt and treasured Wayfarers (still a strong look I like to rock, nothing much changes), I was very excited to see how the city had changed. In particular I was excited to enjoy some of its legendary street food, still reputed by many to be the best in the world, as well as adding to my foreign crisp collection. Possibly the highlight of any trip abroad.

Our first stop, after a quick wash and brush up at the hotel, was Boat Noodle Alley, so named as they were served from canoes that traversed the cities waterways to customers on the shore. They are now, more prosaically, mostly served from dry land all across Bangkok but are particularly associated with a stretch of restaurants just north of the Victory Monument.

In keeping with tradition they are still thickened with pig or beef blood and served in the tiny bowls, which originally stopped the precious cargo spilling in the water as they were handed across to the customer from the boat.

You can also chose from a variety of noodles to have with your broth; including thin or thick rice noodles and egg noodles; other common ingredients in boat noodles are garlic, fried garlic, radish, cinnamon, bean sprouts, parsley, morning glory, and chilli and they are often topped with crackling or fried wontons for crunch.

After choosing our restaurant - the first one we got to as you cross the bridge, we were tired and needed feeding - we ordered all the noodles, including both beef and pork versions and yen ta fo, a sweeter, pink broth with wide rice noodles and bean curd.

These ended up being my favourites, alongside a version listed as 'tom yum', with egg noodles and barbecue pork, although all were stellar, with the blood being a lot more subtle than I expected. We finished with traditional ceramic dishes of coconut pudding, which the Ewing enjoyed more than I did, although I was struggling after eight bowls of boat noodles.

The following morning we took a river boat to visit Wat Arun, the temple of the dawn, but before hand we dealt with the important question of the day; what we were going to eat for lunch, with a visit to the Wang Lang food market.

While there was a multitude of food carts, selling all sorts of fascinating, and often unidentifiable, ingredients, we ended up at the restaurant above, I have absolutely no idea what it's called in English, lured in by the display of seafood and smell of grilling pork.

As you can see we didn't skimp on the ordering, ordering a range of dishes including deep-fried crab omelette, sticky rice flavoured and coloured with pea flower, frozen watermelon smoothies, and no less that three different types of som tam/som tam-related salads.

Traditionally made with unripe shredded green papaya, it can also feature various other unripe veg, including mangoes, apples, cucumbers, carrots, and, like many dishes of the region, balances sour, hot, salt, and sweet. Often served with sticky rice, grilled chicken or pork crackling, it's a wondrous combination of textures and tastes.

Of the three versions we tried - with grilled pork neck; three types of shrimp; and sausage and peanuts - I think the latter just about edged it. More like a kind of Spam, the chunks of soft sausage mixed perfectly with the crunchy nuts and occasional bursts of searing heat from the birds eye chilli, all doused in lime juice and fish sauce.

My views on foreign McDonald's are well documented but, for the uninitiated, I'm very for them. Especially when you've just arrived somewhere/are drunk. I'm especially in to unique menu items or individual quirks, as can be seen here by Ronald McDonald (and my wife, on the right) adopting the wai, or Thai bow.

The item I was both excited and dubious to try was the Mcfried chicken, their version of classic fried chook. How would it stand up to perfection of the mighty Colonel? In the end it exceeded all expectations, with it's beautifully brittle and grease-less carapace, keeping the chicken juicy within, and a hint of chilli heat. In fact, it was reminiscent of the spicy crumb coating on a KFC hot wing and all the better for it.

The samurai pork burger - featuring teriyaki sauce, lettuce, tomato, onions, and mayo - has become a bit of a cult item since being introduced. It was pretty good, being rather McRib-esque (from memory, it’s been several years since I’ve had the pleasure), although I thought the meat to bun ratio was a little off and could have done with being a double, or a quarter pound patty.

Thai Maccy’ d’s are also known for their fried pies – corn, pineapple and a changing, usually savoury, version such as Thai green curry. Known as the ‘crispy & delicious’ pie. Both of the ones I tried were far better than expected - corn mixed with a kind of vanilla-y custard doesn’t sound like much of a winner, but trust me on this, and the pineapple was both sweet and tart. Even the Ewing, who initially eschewed them, agreed with my assessment after being persuaded to try a bite.

Our first trip to visit Pe Aor for tom kung noodles was thwarted when they were closed for Songkran (heralding the start of the Thai New Year) celebrations. Sad as that was I did find this guy selling what I thought were prayer beads from his hand cart. Further scrutiny showed they were strings of small round sausages, grilled over charcoal flame to order. I think I’ve found my new religion.

Looking for somewhere else for dinner, we chanced upon Phayai Thai, on the same street, a casual, but highly acclaimed Thai Halal restaurant - this is an area densely populated with Thai Muslims, and there are several other halal street food vendors and restaurants in the area – although, from looking at the menu, most of the usual suspects were there. The only thing I really missed was an ice cold beer to wash it down.

One must order, following my pattern of picking the weirdest sounding things on the menu, were the chicken knees. Although the waitress gestured towards her elbows when we ordered them.... Whatever they actually were, the 'knees' were like nothing I've had before. Little nubbins of gristly stuff, covered in batter and deep fried before being doused in sesame seeds and sweet chilli sauce. Strangely addictive, we both polished these off stat.

Even better was the beef larb. Possibly my favourite of all Thai/Lao dishes, larb is a 'meat salad' made from minced meat or fish mixed with fish sauce, lime juice, roasted ground rice, chilli, onion and fresh herbs and served here with raw cabbage and green beans. Clean and light and delicious, although my palate, rapidly acclimatising to the heat, was missing a hit of chilli.

We also enjoyed a simple, but excellent som tam, and this gargantuan sea bass, steamed and served with a fresh and punchy lime and chilli spiked broth. The Ewing was in her element carefully stripping the perfectly poached flesh from the bones and eating with sticky rice and a thicket of fresh herbs. This was a meal for two in it's own right and, offhand, I think it cost about 300 Baht, or about £7.50.

In a town with so many fun, cheap and casual places to eat, not to mention all the food vendors on every street corner, it almost seemed a shame to spend a night in a fancier restaurant. But Thai Niyom came highly recommended by several people, as well as the Michelin Guide, and so we scrubbed up for our most refined meal of the trip.

Luckily refined doesn't mean lacking in flavour, although if something comes with a chilli heat warning in Thailand, sensible folk should probably heed it. As we know, being sensible isn't anything I'm often accused of and the idea of 'stir fried pork with Chanatburi chilli paste - only for the brave', was too intriguing/challenging to pass up.

Yes, it was undoubtedly hot. So hot it turned the Ewing a little hysterical with maniacal laughter when the waitress appeared to ask if everything was ok; as a mixture of tears and beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks. What I found most interesting, however, was the flavour of the chilli paste which was reminiscent of a Caribbean style jerk pork marinade. 

I know there are many naysayers who doubt you can taste flavours in  very spicy food, but this wasn't just a blast of heat. Layers of flavour, including black pepper and kaffir lime leaves, went toe to toe with huge amounts of smoky chillies.

The rest of the meal was similarly flavour-packed, from the smoked coconut iced teas we started with to the cojitos (mojitos made with coconut water) we ended on. Particularly recommended is the Chang Mai combo - a platter of deep fried pork belly, cracklings, fermented sausage, fresh vegetables and green and red relishes for dipping.

We also enjoyed a generous dish of crab fried rice with spring onions, southern style sour yellow curry with sea bass and pickled bamboo shoots; the morning glory with fermented shrimp paste and a pudding of my favourite sticky rice and mango with salted coconut milk.

For our last evening we headed to Chinatown, where the in-your-face smells and sights and sounds of 'old' Bangkok can still be felt. It's really a wondrous place, and a must visit, especially as it gets dark and hundreds of vendors pour onto the streets, with their mobile food carts and fold out tables and chairs, and start frying and grilling and chopping and juicing to create the most delicious dishes .

Two of the most famous stands is T & K Seafood, on the corner of the busy Yarowat Road. Here you sit on plastic chairs at shared trestle tables, while a swarm of hard-working waiters in their distinctive green polo shirts, buzz about serving some of the best fish and seafood in the city.

We started with a deep fried thai-style omelette, stuffed with crab meat, chilli and chives, and served with more chilli sauce; accompanied by ice cold Singha beer. Anyone that regularly reads this blog (hi Mummy P), will know of my ouef-aversion, but I have been slowly easing my self back in over the last few years. This, with it's crispy edges, chunks of sweet seafood and salty, spicy sauce, was doing things to me. Very good things.

We split a portion of smoky, grilled banana shrimp, that had been butterflied and cooked on open coals and served with fresh and fiery red and green chilli sauces. I also ordered the fish cakes (or first of the trip) which the Ewing maintained she didn't like, but then proceeded to happily wolf down when they arrived. I'm a big fan of a bouncy, well-spiced fish cake, and these were excellent dipped in a dish of classic sweet chilli sauce.

The yellow curry with squid was impeccable; rich coconut sauce, with subtle spicing, stuffed full of and tender chunks of cephalopod and one the very best things we ate on our trip. Alongside was simple sticky jasmine rice and more stir fired morning glory, our go to veg on this visit, with funky fermented shrimp and red chilli.

As wonderful (and reasonable) as the food was, the real highlight was the view from our table; listening to the throaty roar of mopeds and tuk tuks and the general hustle and bustle as Chinatown sprung into life, all while enjoying a stunning sunset over this wonderful corner of town.

My absolutely favourite Thai dessert, in fact one of my favourites full stop, is thai sticky rice, served warm and topped with fresh mango and slightly salted coconut milk Even better, we timed our visit with peak mango season, which are the summer months of April and May in Thailand.

In honesty, this was probably my least favourite of all three mango sticky rice I tried on our fleeting visit, but only because the mango was perfectly ripe, as you can see from the glowing orange colour, when I prefer my fruit a little greener. Whatever, I would happily eat this forever and ever and it remains one of my very favourite puddings.

Our second attempt to visit Pe Aor, on a final morning in town, worked out perfectly as it was a short stroll from the hotel (well, according to Google Maps, the reality was a mile in brutal sunshine, in the heat of the day. Mad dogs and Englishmen).

Of course what you really want after a sweaty schlep is a nice refreshing beverage or, if you’re my wife, several. While I’m almost certain I’ve regaled everyone with this story many times before, one of my most enduring memories is when we first started to go out and went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner, where she proceeded to order no less than three drinks. Not one after each other, which would have seemed far more moderate, but all at once, just as we arrived.

Some things never change, although this time she stuck at two and, as her habits have obviously rubbed off over the intervening decade, I ordered a brace too.  Between us we enjoyed the classic Thai iced tea - a fantastically refreshing drink - sweet, milky and a little bitter, coloured a glorious orange shade from tamarind – strong, sweet iced coffee; fresh sugar cane juice; and bael, or wood apple juice. Which was fun to try, but very sweet.

She also ordered a starter of crab spring rolls, long thin cigarillos of crustacean wrapped in a very light filo style pastry. I was unfussed by these at first, but happily tucked in when I realised the filling in each one comprised of a whole crab leg.

As good as these were, we were here for the main act, the tom yum kung nodle soup that can be ordered with a variety of different seafood accoutrements, including a massive sharing bowl stuffed full of lobster, white fish and mussels.

We went with the classic river prawns, with an extra order of river prawns on the side, plus squid for me and an egg for the Ewing. The sweet seafood complimented the rich and slightly sour soup, enriched even further by the the addition of shrimp head oil. Simply outstanding and a bowl can be yours for about two quid.

We hadn’t eaten a single ice cream during our whole trip, something that seemed a little remiss due to the fact the weather was sweltering and we were on holiday. Is there a better combination of factors? As if in answer to our prayers we happened upon a vendor on our way back to catch the sky train to the airport. Just a guy with a small cart selling a single flavour, coconut, with the option of adding condensed milk and peanuts (yes to both), and absolutely perfect.

The heavens aligned even further with the Insta-worthy backdrop of Thai flags that I took a picture against. Of course the reality didn’t show the Ewing and I bickering over who’s turn it was to have a bite (sharing is caring) before it liquefied in the intense heat, all while lugging our heavy bags behind us. Oh the glamour of being an international jet-setter. Next stop Down Under.

Wednesday, 17 April 2019

I like the way you murk it

Sun is shining, weather is sweet; well, it was a couple of weekends ago, when we made the trip to the charming town of Cheltenham. A town boasting some of the best Regency architecture in England (I made the Ewing hang around a council car park, while I took pictures of the concrete) it's also home of cult brewery Deya. Found, like all good breweries, tucked away on a quiet trading estate and handily near to Cheltenham Spa railway station.

You may also notice the discombobulating nature of the pictures, which veer from night to day and back again through this post. Which, I think, artfully adds to the feeling of an afternoon drinking session that extends into the night. Looking back through my camera roll when I came to write about our evening, it's more of a wonder I had any photos that I could use. Although I did have several of the Ewing going for a wee in the bushes (sadly, now deleted, although maybe for the best) there is no privacy these days - TE.

Deya are best known for their hazy beers, which lean toward the New England style, rather than the piney astringency of the West coast IPAs. They describe them on the website as 'soft, hoppy beers' and, if you are into your murk, then this is the place to be. Although, as you can see from the menu 'other liquids' are available.

Things started very demurely, in shirt sleeves drinking a pint of Steady Rolling Man, their flagship hazy pale ale weighing in at 5.2 per cent, this is becoming a benchmark of all hazy pale ales. The Ewing had a pint of Just a Glimmer, their session pale ale at a more modest 4 per cent and super easy to drink in the sunshine.

I won't bore you with the minutiae of every beer we tasted (I think we got through them all, bar the Tappy Pils, despite it being lager weather) but, if you're not on Untappd, here are a few buzz words to give you the general idea; hop yogurt, pineapple, mango, murky, hop bomb, hazy, tropical, juicy banger etc. etc.

Food come in the form of a roster of rotating food vendors which, on our visit were Mission Pizza - wood-fired pizza slingers who specialise in vegetarian and vegan pies. 

While I'm not absolutely sure I want to give up my mozzarella for cashew nut cheese any time soon, I'm a big fan of a meatless pizza (or any kind of pizza in all honesty) and I was very excited by their menu which featured the 2000s supermarket classic of spinach and ricotta, pimped up with pine nuts and truffle oil; and a spicy choice with chilli oil, chilli flakes and jalapenos.

But in the end the choice was a no-brainer - the wild garlic leaves, wild garlic pesto and nettles with caramelised onion and mozzarella cheese. This was an excellent pizza with a perfectly puffy, chewy crust, bitter greens and sweet onion. My only criticism was it was perhaps a little too sweet. Some of the aforementioned chilli flakes or a slick of spicy oil wouldn't have gone amiss. 

After our pizza we moved on to a crisp chaser - the delicious Torres Iberico ham flavour - with another pint of murk, this time the Into the haze IPA. This was followed by the 'last beer' of the night; the Old Evil Spirit, a roasty, malty imperial stout with a healthy dollop of dark fruits and cocoa.

Unfortunately they only served this in halves and not thirds. Normally I'd say that but not really mean it, but on this occasion an eleven per center, that slipped down with nary a hint of booze, probably signified the beginning of the end.

Of course, that wasn't the end of things. On returning to the bar to buy some cans to take home the Ewing got coerced into buying another round of delicious DIPAS, plus yet more crisps, this time the black truffle flavour.  Funky and deep and a little bit salty; and the crisps were pretty good too.

I'm not entirely sure what happened on the way back but I know it involved going to the kebab shop; getting stuck in the kebab shop; buying a lighter; losing a lighter, losing my earphones (found the next morning with the help of Toby the three-legged dog TE); getting caught short; dancing in the street (in my Beavertown beanie, no less) and, as the pièce de résistance, getting lost in the garden of a nursing home.

Thankfully we did make it back, although the saddest part of the whole trip came on waking up at the hotel the morning after. After spending a few minutes wondering where I was and wondering if I would ever feel ok again, I realised that the hard won kebab that I had carefully carried home remained uneaten. On the plus side some enormously fragile glassware, see the top of the picture, we had bought along with the beer was still somehow intact.

Of course, missing out on my bedtime snack made popping next door for the all you can eat Harvester breakfast (with an extra rump steak and an endless stack of buttered crumpets with Marmite) even more welcome.

All in all a perfect weekend and perfect training for our imminent trip Down Under, where the Ewing and I are going to hit the Inner West beer crawl, as we did on our last visit two years ago. Only this time I hope to actually remember enough of it to be able to write it all up on here. Wish me luck....