Source, Smoke and Sea - Woodbridge and Orford - One

Escaping the busy streets and bus diversions of London for a change, Mel (the girlfriend) and I headed out on the train to Woodbridge, Suffolk, to remind ourself what that green stuff is again. Woodbridge was not by any means a random choice, and the day trip to visit Orford and its two smokehouses was cemented into the schedule. If Orford rings a bell then it may be because of Nigel Slater's article in the Observer many months ago.

Woodbridge is a bit of a weekend boaty place, around an hour and a half on the train from the city with a change in Ipswich. According to the helpful taxi driver who took us to the hotel, "the food's great here. Loads of pubs, AND we've got a Prezzo!" How could we top that?

After a bit of searching in the Good Food Guide, we decided upon The Crown, which in appearance was a clean cut wine bar with a restaurant on the side. We happily quaffed a bottle of pre-dinner white before going through for an impressive meal. Mel started with some lovely crab cakes, whilst I went for the breadcrumbed lamb's sweetbreads, followed by some extremely tender medallions of beef, and hake on a chorizo and chickpea stew. Both Mel's steak and my hake were lovely, even though we were perhaps a little drunk before sitting to eat.

After a necessary morning-after fry up at our pleasant, and helpfully tended, hotel (Grove House), we hopped on the rollercoaster-like 71 bus to Orford. Orford was an instantaneous mix of salt, smoke and bitter cold with a 13th Century keep thrown in for good measure. As two young twenty-somethings we didn't appear to fit in with the typical school holiday or English Heritage crowd, but we managed to keep ourselves busy for a few hours, largely by stockpiling our food supplies from the two smokehouses: Richardson's and Pinney's. With the former being the subject of Nigel Slater's affections, the two local rivals were fronted in very different ways. Pinney's 21st Century company was swish, nicely packaged, and made up of a shop on the front (manned by a seemingly clueless lady who looked thoroughly bored) and their Oysterage Cafe which served up simple sea-fare (we had some griddled prawns and a fish pie). Richardson's - pictured below - was a back-alley shed with smoke pouring from every orifice, and tended by Steve whose affectionate teasing has likely been passed down, along with the traditional oak smoking technique, from generation to generation.

Bags full of smoky wares (consisting of mackerel, eel, Cheddar, Stilton, sausages, garlic and bacon - all smoked and all dirt cheap), we took a coffee by the fire at Ruth Watson's lovely Crown and Castle, before heading home on the local rollercoaster. The night was to end with Adnams, Aspalls and a nice fish and chips at the local boozer.

I was planning to complete this blog in one go, however, the following morning was to provide some unexpected culinary highlights which I'll have to cover in detail in another post.

A Spot Of Asian Fusion: Kai Mayfair Review

In writing this blog I'm beginning to learn a few things that should hold me in good stead if I can actually stick by them: write it whilst it's fresh (in your mind, of course, doing so whilst fresh in your mouth may be a little over-keen, and slightly missing the point), and also to take a notepad, which would have been useful when describing 'the tasty chicken thing' I had!

After a Sunday morning, diligently working on my writing skills in Holborn, I had scheduled to meet my friend Sarah for lunch and a catch up. Since Marble Arch was the place of convenience, the myriad of food establishments in Mayfair left me with a lot of options! Please don't quote me on this, but I'd imagine Mayfair has the greatest concentration of Michelin stars in the UK. After a bit of digging, largely helped by the fact that many of the big ones are closed on Sunday, I opted for Kai.

Upon entrance and being seated, the Maitre d' (meaning 'master of...') popped over to apologise for the napkins being made of paper, putting it down to now ex-president Mubarak, who was clearly not popular at the time of the visit. The restaurant was just right, quiet enough for a nice relaxing chat, busy enough for it to not be weird. The food was good: a mix of Asian and Modern European, and at £27 for the three course lunch menu with extras and inbetweeners it's definitely worth a visit. I wouldn't say that it challenged me or took anything to a new level, but sometimes a delicious, impeccably served meal is just that.

One glorious highlight, however, was a cracking Chardonnay, which, according to the google, is not a cheapie, and was amazing with the chicken:





At Kai I devoured:
Miso soup with tofu
Cold cut of beef shank & ox tongue Spiced & marinated with star anise, cinnamon, ginger, shaoshin wine & soya sauce. Baby spinach, wild rocket & red chard salad.
Roast chicken, with Kai gravy and some veg.
Poached Nashi pear infused in red wine, cinnamon accompanied chestnut parfait.
Two rounds of petit four!

Lunch menu link - www.kaimayfair.co.uk/kai/PDFs/Kai_Mayfair_Lunch_Menu.pdf

The Tasting Menu: A Trifle Too Much? Tom Aitkins Review

Last night I watched the Japanese film Spirited Away with my lovely girlfriend, which has provided me with a rather apt intro to this post. Early in the film, the girl's parents see piles of amazing food, can't stop eating it and turn into big fat pigs (literally). Unfortunately neither myself nor Oli have a brave little daughter who is willing to begin an adventure in the aim of rescuing us from the clutches of swinedom, so erring on the side of caution would perhaps be wise. Perhaps the visit to Tom Aitkins, on that level, would be a resounding failure.

For those of you who don't know him, my good friend Oli is my culinary partner in crime, and once co-author of the then unwritten Wide Eyed Food Guide. He is also the person who I experienced my first bout of top end dining with, and on most of my visits since has usually been found somewhere on the same table. In November, I noticed a deal on Keynoir - London (definitely worth keeping an eye on!) where £75 up-front gave you £150 to spend at Tom Aitkins, the 16th best restaurant in the UK according to the Good Food Guide 2011. After somehow managing to hold out until January, we booked a table on a cold and miserable Thursday, just to celebrate having enough energy to actually do something on a week night.

With Oli running a little late, I had some time to sit and read with a glass of Champagne while he toiled across central London at rush hour. Once he arrived we were whisked through to start hitting the taste menu. Now, dissecting 7 courses plus various in-betweeners so I'll break it down into the high points and, not criticisms but uncertainties:

All in all the food was delightful, and the staff friendly and happy to chat. I love having a chat with the staff about food, and it's nice to see when they're passionate and opinionated about the food. One of the waiters even went as far as saying that he personally thought that one of the dishes could be simplified, which we concurred with.

For me there were three particular dishes that stood out (I've listed them all below), being the Foie Gras, which I love (sorry), nearly always order, and now bettered in standard by Tom Aitkins. It came both cured, and in jelly, with pickled mushrooms it was wonderful and demonstrated how something so rich and particular in taste could actually be done very differently. The second of which was the John Dory, which was a little fillet sat on a soft, juicy, breadcrumbed bit of veal, with another bit of veal on top. The dish was contrasting in its ingredients, cooked to perfection and delicious. Finally, (being a man with a rather sweet tooth it was inevitable that I would love it) the Chocolate Dacquoise was fun, beautiful and just wonderful. It was like a chocolate building site, with rubble that melted in your mouth and big dusted boulders of rich gooey heaven. The only thing that marred it was the knowledge that I couldn't resist demolishing the dish (flagrant building pun) and that it was going to hurt later, which leads on to the critiques.

It seems odd to critique too much generosity, but when leaving a restaurant I want to feel like I've been fed well, but not too well. Now I know that some of you will read this with the thought that I should pace myself, but when you have no idea what's coming next, and it's great, then you're going to eat it. I happen to have a tremendous capacity to put food away, but this just bettered me. I appreciate that the the food was complex, and contrasting and adventurous, however the meal, with its various interlude bites, felt more like full courses than tasters, and I, an archetypical wielder of very little willpower, left feeling a bit sick. Generosity appreciated, but there was too much food served.

Of the two direct criticisms, one fits with the above point: The Scallop was very tasty and cooked well, but there was so much going on, and we both thought that there could have been less on the plate. The other criticism was of the fennel with the honeycomb, which was a bit stringy (the fennel obviously), and didn't really work for me.

In spite of the above few points, the visit to Tom Aitkins was great, and the skill demonstrated showed that he's a leader of the culinary pack, rather than a follower. I'm not going to start awarding Michelin stars, as I have neither the power nor expertise to do so, however I'd say that it justified the accolades on our visit. It's just a shame that my tipsy-happy trip home felt more like the other side of a rather double edged sword.

Website: www.tomaikens.co.uk
Address: Tom Aikens, 43 Elystan St, Chelsea, SW3

The tasting menu consisted of:
Roast Scallop, beetroot purée, caramelised onions, beetroot dressing.
Cured Foie Gras, pickled mushrooms, foie gras mousse, cep dressing.
Roast John Dory, pumpkin sauce, braised veal shin.
Loin of Romney Marsh Lamb, aligot potato, dried green olive.
Fresh Honeycomb, Greek Yoghurt, poppy seed ice cream, confit lemon, fennel, Ginestière cheese.
Chocolate Dacquoise, chocolate mousse, peanuts, chocolate pops, milk ice cream.

I didn't take any pictures, but you can see photos of the dishes at this blog: http://bit.ly/e0ewmL

Fundamentals: The Michelin Star Price Myth

Over the past couple of years I've been lucky enough to go to tens of accolade-laden restaurants in the UK, from the twinkle-townish Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester; to the ultimate country pub, The Nut Tree Inn; to the buzzing lively, and nigh impossible to spell, Yauatcha in Soho. Most have been unique in some way, and the brief list of uniqueness could have continued for longer than your attention towards my fledgling blog. So we will continue...

Looking back over the last paragraph I have already acquired a bit of a twinge; you know the one you get when you feel like you're boasting, and that's the thing. By saying I go to great restaurants are you saying: "I love to eat delicious food" or "I go to expensive restaurants"? I fear that it's often taken as the latter, and understandably so. In 1997 Le Gavroche, owned by the current BBC 'man of the hour' Michel Roux Jr, entered the Guinness Book of World Records for serving the most expensive meal per head ($20,945) and the best typically came at a steep price. These places have a reputation for refinery, and high prices, but that's not always necessarily so.

As I hardly need to tell you, the world is quite a different place from 1997, and over the last few years even, or arguably especially, the top restaurants have had to work to fill their tables with offers like the fixed price menu. I'll give you an example, Anthony Demetre's deservedly starred Artubus, does an excellent three course lunch menu for £16.95, and early/late dinner for £18.95, which is less than many a main at the Angus Steakhouse chain restaurants. Now I'm not saying that all the great restaurants have deals, but over the last couple of years many, including the two and three starred restaurants, have followed suit. There is some excellent food out there to be tried without haemorrhaging money, you just need to know where to look.

A good place to start is Toptable and Squaremeal, (with the former doing the legwork for you if you call them), or just checking the restaurant websites for their lunch menu. The likelihood is that many will be at lunch time, but for me that's my favourite time to eat, especially on the weekend. Over the last year or so I've been populating a spreadsheet and map of places that I've been and want to go, including information on who and when has a cheeky lunch offer on the go. This I will share after I have tailored it for public eyes.

It's OK to drink the tap water. This isn't a public statement on safety, or levels of flouride, but relating to the pressure of how you feel you should act when you're in these swanky places. The waiter will not look down on you if you would rather have tap water than pay £8 for a bottle of mineral water in it, and they'll happily pop a bit of lemon in there too if you like. It sounds a bit silly my writing this, but I recall my first visit to a swanky (but coincidentally stuffier) restaurant, Murano, and almost feeling nervous about being there and doing the wrong thing. Nowadays I relax and just enjoy the experience. To me if their service was good then you won't leave feeling judged, if you do leave feeling like that then they didn't do enough to make you feel comfortable. At the end of the day it's all about the food, at least on this blog!

The above applies to drinking. I've never managed to go there and not drink, but if you don't want the Champagne, the aperitif or the desert wine, then that's fine. Hell if you're loopy enough to not want to want to try the usually amazing wines then that's fine too.

I know that this may sound like an elementary lesson on free will, but I've heard so many people say that they end up spending more money than they're comfortable with because they were afraid to say no. Personally I always struggle to say no to something that sounds delicious, but knowing and feeling like I can say takes the pressure off the experience. This, I suppose, links up to the whole reason for writing the Wide Eyed Food Guide: I wanted to start the blog with a few fundamentals points that may help build the picture of accessibility, because that's what it's all about. The only thing that should humble you in a good restaurant is the taste, smell and feeling that make up the experience. Yes, it should be seen as something special to look forward to, and even dress up for, but never to the point where you feel like a trespasser.

The Wide Eyed Food Guide: An Introduction

Food, it's a disease and it's infectious; it's been slowly taking over my life for years now and like an alcoholic I think that I need an outlet to share my addiction... Well that felt particularly cliched and overdramatic, but the fact is that for the past week I have been debating about how to start my latest blog and it has been the reason for a delay that I'd rather avoid... So here we go, ribbon - check, scissors - check, local politician - check: the Wide Eyed Food Guide is officially open.

For those of you who know me, and of whom I hope will be helping to buoy my initial read-rate (thanks), I love to write, and I love food, so what a more perfect marriage than a juxtaposition of the two, and in a year when I am fully intending to explore both London, and stuff that I can be passionate about. Since finishing my last blog, Liam in the Latin, I have been desperate to find a new project to apply myself to. Considering the fact that I spend my whole day planning my dinner, my week planning something adventurous to cook/eat on the weekend, and any time in-between looking for any meagre excuse to go out to see what the real experts can create, then I may as well be putting it down somewhere. So with this in mind, it's probably more of a surprise that I have managed to avoid doing this for so long.

The Wide Eyed Food Guide is already not exactly what it was supposed to be; originally the brainchild of myself and my friend Oli, the plan was to write about great food in great places, but without pretension. Unfortunately, the other half of the 'Wide Eyed Food Guys' is now about to bugger off across the Atlantic to find his fortune in the New World for the next six months, which leaves me at home with the baby.

What this does mean, is that I now have the creative reigns to expand this as I please, and with so much to do in the area that I live in (Hoxton), I doubt I will be without all kind of experiences to write about. But firstly, and much more importantly, I never start out a blog with some kind of mission statement or objective, and although this time there's not really a destination, there will be an overriding theme to my writings. This theme, or flavour if you like, is as follows:

I believe that good food is a privilege and not a right, and should us be treated with both awe and respect; almost with the attitude of a child, embracing, and deconstructing, new tastes, smells and textures for the first time. I think that we're so incredibly lucky to be in an age where global is the new local, and the previously unattainable is conveniently available. During our frequent trips to some of the countries top restaurants, Oli and I were both struck by how dismissive and unimpressed many of the other diners looked, almost like it was a chore. The supreme skill, passion, attention and love that had gone into each and every one of those dishes were almost humbling, and to me anything other than captivation is almost disrespectful. The Wide Eyed Food Guide, to us, is to approach eating and cooking with the appreciation that it deserves.

So with regards to context, this blog is about food and London; seeing as that's where I live. And what a wonderful place to live as a foodie! What may have once been the failing, I believe, is now its saving grace. With the absence of a strong culinary identity, London's lack of definition by a particular cuisine has turned it into a mixing pot of food (excuse the pun). My objective is to seek out great food, to learn about it, to talk about it, to understand it, and, of course, to write about it.

Regardless of whether anyone actually reads this or not, I can't wait to get writing about, and sharing, these food experiences, and, as I've found in the past, if my ramblings do find their way onto someone's reading list, then thank you for reading.

Liam