tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39955790663288554502024-03-13T21:59:52.581+00:00Patchy GrowthIn which we grow veg on our allotment to the best of our wit, eat out a bit and generally write about food related affairs. Based in Newcastle upon Tyne.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-26855971879512075352018-01-24T22:27:00.001+00:002018-01-24T22:27:22.954+00:00Restaurant Review: La Barra de Traddiction, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We're just back from Gran Canaria, having spent a very pleasant week away. Travelling avec child (Zosia is 9 months and counting) can be a bit of a nerve jangler, let me tell you, but all in all it was a lovely time, made all the lovelier by the fact my parents were on hand to watch the baby monitor while we slipped out for some nice food of an evening, such as that which I shortly will begin describing to you.<br />
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I often wonder whether it's preferable in the long run to actually have a proper regional or national cuisine (like the French or Spanish, or most countries for that matter) or not (like us knackers in Britain). At least doing so means that there will be a core canon of dishes which most people understand, and that your average food-imbiber has some general knowledge of ingredients, techniques and so on. On the other hand, it can also mean that one restaurant is much the same as the next, weighed down a little by the demands of tradition. Baseline standards of nourishment may still be cataclysmically shit in Britain, but if you seek out the good stuff it's at least likely to be eclectic and varied.<br />
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So, in Gran Canaria we ate a fair amount of <i>papas arugadas</i> (potatoes cooked in salt water until it forms a crust on their skin, served with pokey red or green <i>mojo</i>, a vinegar-based sauce), <i>ropa vieja</i> (chickpea stew with beef), <i>jamon</i>, <i>croquetas</i> and so on, as you do. But we also visited a simple but fantastic <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g187472-d4758103-Reviews-Amigo_Camilo-Las_Palmas_de_Gran_Canaria_Gran_Canaria_Canary_Islands.html" target="_blank">fish restaurant</a> where you pay by the weight before they hoy it on the plancha and found delicious, unusually sweet <i>morcilla</i>, made with almonds, in a pretty inland village restaurant. For our holiday treat, I consulted the Michelin Guide of all things, to find somewhere that was taking a slightly more irreverent approach to Spanish and Canarian cooking, and that somewhere was La Barra.<br />
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We turned up unfashionably early (they don't open til 8pm), but it was as well we did, as all the tables in this neat little place filled up sharpish. Down one side is the kitchen/bar in front of which you can sit if you like. The place is decked out in fun cartoons and light woods, with spotlights over the table meaning even those with fading eyesight should be properly able to ogle their plates. The lovely waitress spoke no more English than we did Spanish, so we wrestled a bit with Google Translate before settling on what sounded like a fun line-up.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pan con tomate</td></tr>
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<i>Pan con tomate</i> was certainly the most straightforward dish of the evening, just nice light bread rubbed with decent tomatoes. I have to say, Canarian tomatoes didn't blow me away; maybe it never gets hot enough - the temperature is pleasant all year round - to produce really banging toms, I don't know.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Berenjenas asados a la parmesana y globa de mozarella</td></tr>
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Next up, something altogether more fun. More foods should be served in balloon format, as the mozzarella was here, although it looked better inflated than when popped, after which it had something of the used johnny about it. The star of this dish were some delicious nuggets of grilled aubergine and a sensationally rich and savoury paste, possibly made with tomatoes, that had a miso-like tang to it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tartar de remolacha</td></tr>
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Beetroot tartar was a nice riff on the interplay of sweet, sour and savoury flavours. Sails of chicory stood comically upright in a bed of beets which had been marinated so as to emphasise rather than strip away their earthiness. Raw raspberries brought out their sweetness while blobs of creme fraiche calmed things down. This was light, carefully seasoned and very tasty.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pan bao de pato teriyaki con cremosa de foie; Pan bao de panceta de cerdo con mojo verde</td></tr>
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There was a section on the menu for bao, so we had to try a couple. A teriyaki duck effort came with a seperate pot of foie gras cream for the diner to apply themselves, which was wildly rich and livery. The saltiness of the pancetta job was cut by the acid from one of those traditional <i>mojo</i> sauces. In both cases the buns were that nice balance between floaty light and stodge.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Croquetas de jamon iberico</td></tr>
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Things got insanely, dangerously rich with the next two dishes. Hot crisp croquetas of fine bechamel were served draped in serious jamon, rather than it being chopped into their innards. The ham fat melted to a glistening sauce. Phwoar, etc.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Albondigas con calamares</td></tr>
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Meatballs of, possibly, pork and veal, were cloaked in squid ink, then scattered with almonds and tiny chipirones. Neither of us were quite so keen on this, the meatballs having a slightly pallid interior and the whole business just being a bit too salty.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Papas "Arrubravas" La Barra</td></tr>
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Their take on <i>papas bravas</i> was, on the other hand, superb. Tiny little spuds were partly hollowed out then filled with a fabulous complex spicy tomato sauce and topped with a disc of almost eggy aioli. Man, these were great.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homenaje a la ambrosia Tirma</td></tr>
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We shared a pud, "Tribute to ambrosia", mostly because we liked the name. I'm guessing "ambrosia" is some sort of Spanish biscuit? Anyway, it was pleasant enough. The Pedro Ximinez sherry we had with it was, however, superb, as dark as tar. In fact, all the wines, from a short list were nice, and reasonably priced.<br />
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This lot came to approx eighty euros, but we ordered enthusiastically. Service was great. I felt a bit like I was on The Trip when trying to look impressed and interested as the waitress reeled off whole screeds of descriptions that we would tragically never understand. The chef/owner is Angel Palacios, who is apparently a bit of a name in these parts.<br />
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Las Palmas was a fun place to be based for a holiday because it is an actual place, and therefore has restaurants like this. We drove past some of the more touristy spots darn the sarf of the island: not for me, thanks. If you're visiting Gran Canaria, I'd heartily recommend checking La Barra out. The food is fun and makes a nice change from some of the more staple dishes you'll be used to, but not ever by sacrificing deliciousness.<br />
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<b>8.5/10</b><br />
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La Barra de Traddiction<br />
Calle Joaquin Costa, 25<br />
35007 Las Palmas de Gran Canaria<br />
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Phone: 928 93 97 03<br />
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<a href="http://www.traddiction.es/pf/la-barra/" target="_blank">Website</a>Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-55342240842208927122017-12-09T16:35:00.000+00:002017-12-09T17:52:25.637+00:00Requiem for an allotment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just when you thought that the news couldn't get any more grim, what with the horror of Brexit and Trump updates being farted out into the ecosystem on a daily basis, here I am to throw another chainsaw of misery into the spokes. We've given up our allotment.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Yeah, I know. Big stuff. Take a breath, sit down, do whatever you need to. Stabilise yo self. Alright? Good.<br />
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The thing is, despite my <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2017/06/managing-fine-without-us.html" target="_blank">previous assertion</a> that having a new baby and keeping an allotment shouldn't have to be mutually exclusive enterprises, this has not, for us at least, proven to be the case. It turns out that having been at work all day I didn't really want to go and do the weeding in preference to taking part in Zosia's bedtime routine. It also turned out that when the weekends came by I was far more interested in going on a trip out, or to see friends with Kasia and Zosia than I was in sowing green manure. As you can see from the pic above, by September things were starting to look pretty shabby, and we just didn't have the time nor the inclination to do anything much about it.<br />
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But while this little patch of Benwell Allotments is now dead to us, it very much lives on as we were able to pass it on to a couple who live locally and who have kids who seemed keen when I showed them round. On both the occasions we've taken over allotments there was a vast amount of work to do just to get things up and running, as each plot had been neglected for years. It was nice to be able to hand this one over with it needing nothing more than a good weeding in order to get started, and with some harvestable crops still in the ground.<br />
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We'll defo be looking to get back into the allotment game in the future, maybe when Zosia is old enough to take an interest and perhaps even help a bit. In the meantime, we've said that we'll concentrate on keeping our garden at home in tip-top shape next year. Maybe I'll grow some veg in the borders or in containers, or put in a raised bed.<br />
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Anything that happens in that department will be chronicled here, as will the odd restaurant review.<br />
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The very last time I ever went up to the allotment to tidy up a bit for its new custodians I noticed that the Victoria Plum tree we've been growing for years, first at our old plot at Nunsmoor, and then here after digging it up and replanting, finally produced some edible fruit. Only a handful mind, but after waiting for five years you take what you're given. I tried one on the way back down to the house. It was deliciously bittersweet, which seemed appropriate in the circumstances.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-61976535723774157742017-06-11T18:47:00.000+01:002017-06-11T18:47:08.778+01:00Managing fine without us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It can come as a bit of a surprise, sometimes, to find out that life goes on without you. Since the arrival of our daughter a couple of months back, the allotment has basically been sacked off; after getting home from work I'm far keener to see Zosia than I am to look at vegetables. I had assumed that the place would be hoaching with weeds and those crops we had planted would be bearing the scars of their neglect. A couple of brief recent visits showed neither of these assumptions to in fact be the case.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Front to back) Garlic, onions and broad beans</td></tr>
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I think we've been helped by the weather. Prior to some recent precipitation, it has been remarkably dry. This seems to have kept a lot of weeds particularly weedy. While the thistles, nettles and docks had all put on plenty of foliage growth, their roots hadn't developed much and were easily pulled up from the dry top-layer of soil. Hence what looked like being a cumbersome tidy up job ended up being very satisfying, like pulling off a massive weedy scab just as it's ripe and ready. I had the whole plot de-weeded in not much more than a couple of hours.<br />
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The things that we actually <i>want </i>to grow, on the other hand, have all done pretty well without us. The majority of it got established before it got really dry, which I'm sure will have helped, as will have the plentiful sunshine. If we'd been going to the plot I'd probably have been watering everything like crazy. The fact that it's done ok regardless shows that, other than when it's really needed like when things are newly planted, perhaps watering is more about making you feel like you're helping than the fact that you actually are. I remember Raymod Blanc's gardener saying in an article once that watering is a waste of time, and that refraining from doing so encourages plants to put down sturdier roots. There might be something in that.<br />
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Anyway, let's have a quick shifty round the plot as it was today, and see what we've got going on.<br />
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Broad beans have done great. They're <i>aquadulce claudia</i>, planted last Autumn and overwintered before kicking on in the Spring. The plants are super-healthy, showing no sign of blackfly or the brown spotting that the foliage can often fall foul of, yet.<br />
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I picked the first crop of them. It felt a bit odd doing so, as these were sown and grown when life was very different, and time was rather more plentiful. Harvesting them felt like reaping the rewards of work done during a different life altogether. We'll be eating them in this one though; tonight to be more specific, a fine treat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Px-m42JTYPw/WT15hd4eAUI/AAAAAAAAy_Y/tmYv1K20Kho0JMlYr1p-SS3FAOcUucrtgCKgB/s1600/P1050361-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="989" data-original-width="1600" height="394" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Px-m42JTYPw/WT15hd4eAUI/AAAAAAAAy_Y/tmYv1K20Kho0JMlYr1p-SS3FAOcUucrtgCKgB/s640/P1050361-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Boltardy</i> beetroot.</td></tr>
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Good old boltardy beetroot are growing nicely in one of the poorer, less manured beds. I like to pull them up somewhere between golf and tennis ball size. Their relative, chard, is also getting on fine.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dXJC8M30mhI/WT15-QIvutI/AAAAAAAAy_c/aYQJhMF8yBE32i9HSuqKicxJwnBDO1DEwCKgB/s1600/P1050365-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dXJC8M30mhI/WT15-QIvutI/AAAAAAAAy_c/aYQJhMF8yBE32i9HSuqKicxJwnBDO1DEwCKgB/s640/P1050365-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chard <i>bright lights</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celery</td></tr>
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I planted out a couple of rows of a self-blanching variety of celery a couple of weeks back. By all accounts celery is one of the tricksiest things to grow, but these plants have been fine so far.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jheaFtQtE40/WT16x39a22I/AAAAAAAAy_k/4DOx_MgmEV8Hy4djG0zDcmKFup5oIcpAACKgB/s1600/P1050373-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="1600" height="366" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jheaFtQtE40/WT16x39a22I/AAAAAAAAy_k/4DOx_MgmEV8Hy4djG0zDcmKFup5oIcpAACKgB/s640/P1050373-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nasturtiums</td></tr>
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A bed of nasturtiums have self seeded, again. These things really do just grow like stink, no wonder chef's like them so much. We'll need to make a point of eating some this year, after never really getting round to it last time out. Their flowers make salads look super pretty.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EkCuoDVGoVs/WT1-JxBAULI/AAAAAAAAy_s/m3WSliu5qQEKg5qFQg1MvWY7lBqBSQnWwCKgB/s1600/P1050366-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EkCuoDVGoVs/WT1-JxBAULI/AAAAAAAAy_s/m3WSliu5qQEKg5qFQg1MvWY7lBqBSQnWwCKgB/s640/P1050366-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gooseberries<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XZmgvcKTTLc/WT1-QWiuAuI/AAAAAAAAy_w/by_2qmdjvCQMd1wjZxG7ProRNqZlXRV2ACKgB/s1600/P1050368-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1039" data-original-width="1600" height="414" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XZmgvcKTTLc/WT1-QWiuAuI/AAAAAAAAy_w/by_2qmdjvCQMd1wjZxG7ProRNqZlXRV2ACKgB/s640/P1050368-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackcurrants</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Gsv0vzxIJY/WT1-UCOYk4I/AAAAAAAAy_0/ja8TosHyrQkJnuYjd5TxliIKlV411HnxACKgB/s1600/P1050369-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Gsv0vzxIJY/WT1-UCOYk4I/AAAAAAAAy_0/ja8TosHyrQkJnuYjd5TxliIKlV411HnxACKgB/s640/P1050369-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raspberry</td></tr>
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In fruitland, it looks like being a bumper crop of gooseberries which suits me fine as I love their fragrant sharpness. There's a decent amount of blackcurrants about to ripen on our two bushes too. As ever, the trick with these is to get them just before the local bird population does. I liberated a couple of raspberry canes from thickets of weeds. Pickings of these will be meagre, although nonetheless appreciated. Our plum tree has produced some fruit but I don't think any will get to ripen. The tree has taken a hammering at the nefarious hands of a horde of greenfly. We'll need to get in quick next year and give it a good spray of something when this happens.<br />
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I trundled home, happy that the plot is still there and that, while we haven't got the time to spend on it that we once did - I don't know when Kasia, much less Zosia are going to make it up there - things are still growing. It's nice to be needed, but also sometimes to find out that you're not.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-54388076478396561712017-04-02T20:47:00.001+01:002017-04-04T11:12:59.924+01:00Restaurant Review: Harissa Kitchen, Sandyford, Newcastle upon Tyne<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2VjA8kZ8_KA/WOFGu3Ic0fI/AAAAAAAAx7k/elda-BiVmpwMfD6N0UsTz62glCJQ0f89ACPcB/s1600/P1050267-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2VjA8kZ8_KA/WOFGu3Ic0fI/AAAAAAAAx7k/elda-BiVmpwMfD6N0UsTz62glCJQ0f89ACPcB/s640/P1050267-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A few words of praise here then for a place we've frequented a bunch of times since it opened last year, and always enjoyed. And, as if that recommendation wasn't enough to have you high-tailing it over to Sandyford by itself, it's also somewhere you can go to eat out and enjoy a clean conscience. You see, all profits from Harissa Kitchen are ploughed back into the parent charity (or Community Interest Company, to be more precise) <a href="https://www.foodnation.org/" target="_blank">Food Nation</a>, who do lots of very worthy and worthwhile things around food education.<br />
<a name='more'></a>Not only that, but they pay their staff the living wage. Not only that, but they source some ingredients from their own allotment. Not only that but the halloumi on their menu is made by Syrian refugees. I know, that last bit sounds a little bit like something they would serve at Regime, the restaurant in Nathan Barley, but no: it's actually true.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impeccable taste</td></tr>
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All of this is fine and dandy but would be worth nowt if the restaurant itself wasn't up to snuff. The happy news is that it most certainly is. It's small but perfectly formed, having been done quite gorgeously by someone with annoyingly good taste. Whitewashed brick walls and white tables provide a stark backdrop which only serves to accentuate the blasts of blue and yellow which punctuate it via the medium of chairs, cushions and fresh flowers. Worn copper fittings stop it all feeling minimally stuffy. They even play great music. It's just a perfect little room to eat in.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All yellow and blue</td></tr>
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And the food is tip-top too. They use a lot of North African and southern Mediterranean spices, such as dukkah, ras el hanout and (obvs) harissa. It's like going round to a friends place who's gone a bit mad with the latest Ottolenghi cookbook, but done it with style. We arrived just before they closed today, so the main kebab dishes were off - I heartily recommend the monkfish job from previous experience - but we still managed to concoct a rare feast from the small plates menu.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dips and flatbread</td></tr>
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Their dips are full of verve and life, and lifted above the ordinary by means of attention to detail. A red pepper number with harissa was given crunch from walnuts, while a carrot and cumin effort was perked up with ginger and pine nuts. The beetroot one tasted of the earth itself, and was seasoned with salty Yorkshire Fettle cheese. Pliable toasted flatbreads were on hand to swipe through all of these.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Clockwise from top) Hooba mushroom sausages, batata harra, fried cauliflower</td></tr>
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Fried cauliflower was my pick of the small plates we shared, it having been fried to just short of burnt, and the excellent dukkah giving it length, depth, breadth and crunch. Batata hara - spicy fried potatoes to you and me - were a little under-fried, while Hooba oyster mushroom sausages were nicely shroomy, but texturally inferior to good ones made from dead animal. Sorry vegans, but that's how it is.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fried aubergine</td></tr>
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The way they do their crisp fried aubergine here is great. It's like chunky batter scraps, each of which just happening to have a creamy dod of veg at its core. More of that fettle provided seasoning, while date molasses sweetened the deal. A freer hand with the molasses would have been fine by me. Still, though: cracking dish.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harissa house sausage, polenta chips</td></tr>
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By now stuffed to bursting, we braved our way through some excellent spiced pork sausage, which could be spicier yet for my taste and some chunky polenta chips which were a minor revelation. Kasia has no love for polenta normally, but the parmesan and truffle oil in these specimens rendered them unusually delicious.<br />
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We drank Fentimans rose lemonade and home-made ginger beer, both of which went perfectly with these Levantine-spiced dishes. Had I not been driving and Kasia not been heavily pregnant, the booze options are various and excellent. Talking of being heavily pregnant I'm intrigued by the fact that the chef refused to serve the lamb meatballs cooked through to accommodate Kasia's condition. Would doing so would have ruined them entirely, or been a crime against minced lamb? Alas: we'll never know.<br />
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We took a bit of a chocolate tart thing home, and it was predictably great, all goo and richness. I say predictably because Harissa Kitchen is just a quality operation from top to bottom. There's not much on the menu we haven't tried and I'd happily have any of it again. Plus, the service is great. In a perfect world, every neighbourhood would have a cafe as perfectly formed as this at its heart. In this actual, tragically doomed world, on which we're all tottering madly around, I'll just have to jump in the car and head to Sandyford. And so should you.<br />
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<b>8/10</b><br />
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Harissa Mediterranean Kitchen<br />
31-33 Starbeck Avenue<br />
Sandyford<br />
Newcastle upon Tyne<br />
NE2 1RJ<br />
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0191 261 5501<br />
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<b><a href="http://harissakitchen.co.uk/" target="_blank">Website</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/HarissaKitchen/" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/HarissaKitchen" target="_blank">Twitter</a></b><br />
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Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-46558005021438384922017-03-12T17:49:00.002+00:002017-03-12T18:00:48.727+00:00How to get things to grow #1: How we sow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The allotment chat on this blog functions pretty much as a diary of what we've grown, rather than how we've grown it. However, we've been doing this for a bunch of years now, and have over that time accumulated enough frustration and fortune to learn a few lessons in growing veg which I thought might be useful to share. I'm not claiming any pro-level knowledge here, but, particularly if you're just considering growing a few things for the first time I reckon I've got a few easy tips that might ease your path and hopefully avoid the type of early-career horticultural disaster that might put you off before you've properly gotten started. All of this is stuff we've learned from running a couple of decent sized allotments, but the principles apply even if you're just wanting to sow a few pots of herbs.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>The weather was amazing today and we're just moving into the part of the year where more and more vegetable seeds are candidates for sowing. It seems sensible to begin at the beginning: here are some tips and pointers about how to sow your seeds!<br />
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<b>1) Get organised!</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mise en place</td></tr>
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Like cooking, or, for that matter, any other activity that involves bringing together a bunch of different stuff together to get something done, it'll all go off way easier if you get everything together in advance. Ever thrown a bunch of ingredients in a pan, checked the recipe and then realised you need a finely chopped onion? Annoying right? Same with sowing seed. You're going to need, at a minimum: a table of some sort, some compost or other growing medium, some seeds, some water, some labels and some kind of pot or container into which to sow your seeds. Get yo shit together in one place before you start, it'll make it quicker, easier and, weirdly, more enjoyable. And talking of pots and containers...<br />
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<b>2) Sow in seed modules</b><br />
When we first started on our first allotment, we spent god knows how many back-breaking hours clearing weeds and then trying to turn the claggy soil into something that we might be able to sow directly into. The thing is, the soil just wasn't suited to it, being too claggy and full of clay. Net result: nothing germinated and we got pissed off and downheartened. Nowadays we almost never - nasturtiums and radishes being a couple of exceptions, as they'll germinate just about anywhere - sow seed directly into the soil, using seed modules instead to start things off. These genius inventions have a number of advantages. One, you can keep them indoors where you're likely to see them, meaning you shouldn't forget to water them, and you'll know as soon as they germinate. Two, they're small enough to fit on windowsills, meaning they're likely to get decent heat to get germination started. Three, you can use whatever growing medium you want, in relatively small quantities to get the job done.<br />
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However, perhaps the biggest bonus is that you if things don't germinate for whatever reason you haven't wasted that much time. You don't need to re-dig over a whole patch on your allotment or in your border which has gone rock hard and crusty since sow sowed it, you just ditch the compost in your module, give it a rinse out, try to figure out what went wrong and try again. Similarly, when you sow direct you usually end up with "blank" patches where some of your seed didn't germinate. By sowing into modules, you maximise space in your vegetable's final destination as however many plants you have germinate is the number you get to transplant into pleasingly neat and complete rows. You can get seed module trays in a bunch of places, but Wilkos are about as cheap as anywhere. You'll need the <a href="http://www.wilko.com/seed-trays-plant-pots+planters/wilko-seed-tray-black-15-inserts-3pk/invt/0183653" target="_blank">module trays</a> themselves, the <a href="http://www.wilko.com/seed-trays/wilko-gravel-tray-black-38cm/invt/6316340" target="_blank">gravel trays</a> they sit in, and, depending on what you're germinating, some <a href="http://www.wilko.com/propagators/wilko-propagator-lid-clear-35-x-21cm-/invt/0300425" target="_blank">clear plastic lids</a>. For just a few quid, bosh!: you've got a bunch of mini-greenhouses that will sit on your window sill and give your seeds a good chance of getting off to a flying start.<br />
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In most cases (although do see point 5 below) you just need to fill the modules a little over 3/4 full with compost, pop your seeds in, put more compost in to fill to the top, give them a water and you're done.<br />
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<b>3) Avoid crap compost like the plague</b><br />
Compost, whether it's the good stuff or completely useless, is relatively cheap. Unless you've got nothing else to do, your time is not. Buying cheap, bad compost is drastically false economy. For sowing seeds you should certainly avoid anything calling itself multi-purpose compost, and probably avoid anything you're likely to get in a supermarket or other non-specialist vendor. You need compost that is fine enough for the seed to be in contact with it as this, plus moisture, plus correct temperature, is what's going to get germination started. A proper garden centre (NB, this does <i>not</i> mean Homebase) will be able to advise.<br />
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We get <a href="http://gro-humax.co.uk/products/humax-original/" target="_blank">Humax original compost</a> from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Tom-Joes-Plants-that-grow-Wylam-Nurseries-1493769917556182/" target="_blank">Wylam Nurseries</a> as it's relatively inexpensive, nice and fine, retains moisture really well and works great for sowing as well as a more general compost. If you're nowhere near a good garden centre, just make sure whatever you get specifically says it is for sowing. Decent compost is one of the easiest ways to increase germination rates and avoid the kind of disappointment that will put you off veg growing for good.<br />
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<b>4) Double up your sowing</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Double-sown chard seeds</td></tr>
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Seeds are inexpensive and thus highly expendable. We've already established that you're a modern go-getting type with a lot on your plate, and that therefore your time is not. Some seeds just don't germinate, for no apparent reason at all. To avoid your seed module tray being half full of lifeless blanks, just sow two, or twice what you were thinking of sowing, in each module. If only one germinates, fine. If both do, then you'll have to be brutal about it and murder whichever seedling looks runtier or less trustworthy. The end result is the same- a whole tray of healthy seedlings to plant on wherever they're going.<br />
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<b>5) Read the back of the packet!</b><br />
Seems pretty obvious, but still worth saying. The back of seed packets are an amazing source of info to the beginning veg-grower. If it says you should sow indoors in May, there is a reason for this, and doing so in March is only likely to result in a waste of time, compost and seeds. If it says you should sow them an inch deep, rather than half a centimetre, you should probably do so. The one thing I regularly ignore is when the packet insists that the seed should be sown directly into the ground- see point 2.<br />
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<b>6) Label your stuff clearly</b><br />
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And do it as you go, don't wait til the end of your sowing session. You might be able to tell the difference between seeds just by looking at them, but once they're all covered in compost they look remarkably similar! Write what they are and the date you planted them so you can keep an eye on how long it is since they were sown and make a decision on whether they're worth waiting on in the case that they don't germinate.<br />
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<b>7) Think about what you're sowing</b><br />
Sure, that packet might have 200 cauliflower seeds in, but do you have space for even a quarter that many plants? One of the miracles of nature is that seeds are really small and hardly take up any space, whereas the plants they turn into can be bloody massive. Don't sow way more of any one thing than you need, or have space for in your veg plot. You want variety, not a field of one thing; you're not a farmer. At least I assume you're not, as I can't imagine why you'd be reading this. Bugger off, farmers, you're not welcome!<br />
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If the use-by on the packet is this year, ask if anyone at work or wherever would like them. You might find some keen gardeners among your colleagues who can sort you out with their own wisdom, that would be good eh? If you don't have a job, give them to other people you meet. Probably best to give them to people you already know mind, or you might get a reputation you don't especially want.<br />
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So, today I sowed three trays of seeds. It took about half an hour and we now have chard, celery, broccoli, beetroot and cabbage seeds happily perched on windowsills and ready to erupt into life. Exciting, right? Hopefully some of these nuggets of ill-gotten wisdom will be of use to you as you enter the foothills of your own growing adventure. It's worth saying that neither Kasia nor myself have any real horticultural training behind us, so anything I've said here is based on what we've found to work through trial and error.<br />
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If you think we're bang wrong about anything, let me know in the comments. I'll try and find the time to keep this series going. Next stop- what to do when your seeds germinate.<br />
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In the meantime, happy sowing!Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-25436718315170237742017-03-08T22:23:00.000+00:002017-03-08T22:23:17.259+00:00Just me and the pigeons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After having <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/tabula-rasa.html" target="_blank">wondered out loud</a> last week whether impending parenthood might make keeping the allotment going a bit of mission, this week brought the answer: it'll be fine! In less than a couple of hours of doing some actual work I managed to dig over and weed two full patches, rake up and dispose of a bunch of the straw that had sat, along with the manure it came with, on top of the soil all winter and even harvest some of the bits of last year's veg we had missed/deliberately left in the ground for just such an occasion.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The path up to the plot</td></tr>
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The reason for this - and the simple reason that makes this admittedly small allotment so easy to maintain - is that the soil is just gloriously light. Despite some recent heavy rain making things damp underfoot, turning the tilth over was very manageable. It used to be an enormous chore doing this on the clay and clag of our old Nunsmoor plot. Here in Benwell, by comparison, it is a breeze.<div>
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Kasia is beyond the point at which donning walking boots and staggering up the hill to the plot sounds like a fun time, so I had only a circling flock of racing pigeons for company on what was a glorious early spring afternoon. There's something very comforting about the noise they make as they sweep endlessly overhead in concentric circles, as if controlled by some massive invisible Spirograph. There was a gorgeous lick of heat in the sun.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bounty</td></tr>
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I picked some cavolo nero and chard from the plants that had survivied the winter, and lifted the last celeriac and beetroot. The celeriac was all turned into purée, some of which went with the butter-roast chicken we had for Sunday lunch and the rest as an additional white layer in a vegetable lasagna. It was delicious both times. Once you've gotten rid of all the dirt off it, you don't get an awful lot of celeriac back for the effort that goes into growing it, but the heady/earthy smell as you lift it from the ground is perhaps worth it.</div>
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We still need to figure out what we want to grow this year - not the time for experimentation, perhaps- but it was reassuring to be reminded how much you can get done in a small amount of time on this plot. I'm now looking forward to, rather than just worrying about, doing it.</div>
Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-84444572371982168142017-02-25T19:33:00.000+00:002017-03-08T22:23:50.796+00:00Tabula Rasa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I took a quick stroll up to the allotment today, mostly just to check it was still there, what with it having been a good few weeks since I last made the 10 minute hike up, and there having been some meaningful gusts of wind of late. Apart from a couple of upturned compost bins and a bit of damage to a fence that will need replacing at some point anyhow, things were basically in order, which is great.<br />
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I couldn't be bothered to do any actual graft - too many Warhammer miniatures to paint and too much whisky to drink to be getting involved with any actual <i>work</i> - but I did empty a whole bunch of kitchen waste into the compost bins and rip up a couple of newspapers to follow them, which sort of counts, right?<br />
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We're expecting our first sprog to arrive within the next 4-5 weeks - by Christ, that's a scary sentence to type out - so who knows how much time we'll have to tend the plot this year. We've got potatoes chitting and I need to get some tomatoes sown, so we're sort of blithely soldiering on as if nothing's about to happen. We'll see. I mean, what did farmers and other such country folks do in the olden days before child benefit, antenatal classes good quality nursery provision? There must be a way. I've got this mental image of taking said baby up to the plot and plonking it in some kind of contraption in which it silently and obediently sleeps while I tend to my onions, but I have a feeling that this may not be <i>exactly</i> how things work out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Broad beans</td></tr>
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But back to today. The broad beans, garlic and onions that were planted at the end of October have all done really well through the winter, with just a couple of the broad beans succumbing to slugs or something. It has been an almost ridiculously mild winter, so fair enough. Global warming, innit. You watch, in a couple of short years there'll be vineyards all over Hadrian's Wall.<br />
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About the only other thing putting on any new growth is the rhubarb, whose alien-like pink tumescent orbs are one by one unfurling themselves into what will, before all that long, become pudding.<br />
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Other than that, the patches are all blank slates of soil and manure, awaiting us to figure out what we want to plant in them. I like this time of year in that respect. It's full of potential and entirely lacking in dissapointment. You can't get too stressed about things you haven't even sown yet. Given the aforementioned arrival, I think we'll be keeping things fairly straightforward and low maintenance. It's going to be a challenge keeping the plot, never mind this blog which loosely purports to be about it, going, but we'll give it a bash.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-44469655021624201152017-01-27T22:29:00.002+00:002017-01-28T07:30:40.006+00:00Restaurant Review: Rogano, Glasgow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What is a restaurant <i>for</i>, anyway? I mean, obviously it's somewhere that you expect to leave less hungry than you arrived, but other than that: what? Somewhere to spend time with people you know while prying - politely, of course - on people you don't? Somewhere to be looked after a bit, to experience the polished performance that is the result of so much unseen rehearsal? And perhaps somewhere to escape from the mundane thrum of the everyday by dabbling in a little bit of fantasy, a moreish slice of romantic nostalgia? All of these are what I think the restaurant Rogano, just off Glasgow's Buchanan Street is designed to do, and why the idea of eating there appealed to me so much. It didn't quite work out.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>There's no doubting the impact of the place as you walk in. It was thrumming with life as we slalomed past white-clothed tables to our own on a brisk Friday night. Inside here it's still 1935, the year when the wonderful Art Deco interior was put together. It's all smooth edges and geometric beauty. I'm not so sure about the carpet, but the walnut-clad booths and banquets are of quite another age. I felt immediately underdressed.<br />
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The idea of serving seafood in classical preparations in a room like this sounds perfect. The menu looked simple, relying on the very best product, bought spanking fresh and not mucked about with, or so I presumed. At times that was true. At others, things were, like some sections of the interior, a bit tired out.<br />
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A platter of Lindisfarne and Cumbrae oysters seemed like an appropriate way to set about the evening, but the couple that I had were not as plump and lively as I've so enjoyed elsewhere, tasting rather more of oyster than of the deep briney itself.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Choose your weapon</td></tr>
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There was such a kerfuffle about making sure that everyone had the correct implements with which to attack their starter- look at this line up, just for my langoustines - that I felt sorry for our waitress by the time she had figured it out. Unfortunately, the beasts that arrived on the plate did not require most of the implements with which I'd been armed, the claws being too weensy and too enthusiastically cooked to contain any meat worth hoiking out, despite my best efforts. Sucking out that dark stuff from behind the head was fine-tasting fun at least. At three prawns for thirteen and a half quid, I expect rather meatier specimens too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Langoustines</td></tr>
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There were happily no such issues on the booze front, where after some very well-made cocktails we got tucked into a bottle of the peachily lush Roger Pabiot Pouilly-Fume. As far as Sauvignon Blanc goes, I tend to prefer the fuller, riper French versions to the stereotypical gooseberry rasp of the New-Worlders, but hey, that's just me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pan-fried west coast scallops with butternut purée and belly pork</td></tr>
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Elsewhere, the tried and true combo of scallops and belly pork was nicely done, with good caramelisation on the pig. The scallops, for a restaurant where it's all about the seafood, weren't the most impressively proportioned, although they too were correctly cooked.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grilled lemon sole meunière</td></tr>
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The best of the main courses displayed the precise simplicity that makes good fish cookery so compelling. There aren't many finer things than fillets of sole swimming in pools of beurre noisette, especially when the fish is as well cooked as this was. Just lovely stuff.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grilled fillets of seabass, crabcake and tenderstem broccoli</td></tr>
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If everything else had been of that standard I'd probably be raving about Roganos here. While I enjoyed the sea bass on my main well enough I'm not sure about the wisdom of serving cherry tomatoes alongside a cream sauce and the crab cake had a rather odd external texture, like it had been hanging around for a bit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dauphinoise</td></tr>
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This dried out square of dauphinoise was four quid. Sad times. I'm no great cook, but my dauphinoise is way, way better than this.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8OLGVE0wYeY/WIuQ3s2Iz5I/AAAAAAAAwlw/LzQCv0c3KkE3PfoFv8zYr25FgOvYz5YSACPcB/s1600/P1040969-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8OLGVE0wYeY/WIuQ3s2Iz5I/AAAAAAAAwlw/LzQCv0c3KkE3PfoFv8zYr25FgOvYz5YSACPcB/s640/P1040969-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cr<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">è</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">me brûlée</span></td></tr>
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Things came to a denoument via the medium of a very nice crème brûlée, and some rather less impressive petit fours.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Petit fours</td></tr>
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All this having been said, we still had a very enjoyable evening, although that mostly comes down to all those things I mentioned at the start. A couple of tables away a pneumatic and facially improved woman sat opposite a much older man. What, we wondered discreetly, was the score there? And there can be no doubt that, as far as restaurant interiors go, this one is a bit special. However it's also a bit - to be charitable about it - worn around the edges, and a trip to the gents toilet is no treat either. There were also issues with the service. If you insist on putting the ice bucket out of reach then it's on you to ensure that glasses don't become empty. On the other hand I felt sympathy for the girl, not many shifts into her Rogano career I'd say, who nearly had a meltdown figuring out which starter cutlery went where.<br />
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I've never been before, so I've got no idea if Rogano isn't quite what it used to be, or whether our experience is an atypical blip. However, it was hard to escape the sense that this is a institution trading rather too heavily on its reputation and of former glories. I love restaurants, and all the fandango that goes with them, but the food has to be good too, and too little of what we had at Rogano truly was.<br />
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<b>6/10</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Rogano<br />
11 Exchange Place<br />
Glasgow<br />
G1 3AN<br />
<br />
0141 248 4055<br />
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<a href="http://www.roganoglasgow.com/" target="_blank">Website</a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/roganorestaurant/?fref=ts&ref=br_tf" target="_blank">Facebook</a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/roganoglasgow" target="_blank">Twitter</a>Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-481536470585098482017-01-21T19:28:00.003+00:002017-01-21T19:46:58.373+00:00Restaurant review: The Ubiquitous Chip, Ashton Lane, Glasgow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Glasgow might not be the most obvious destination for an anniversary getaway (nine years!), but being the trend-bucking radicals that we are, that's where we just had ours. It was all very lovely and everything and I'll maybe write a post about some of the jolly capers we got up to, but just for the time being let's have a review of one of its finer restaurants shall we? Alright!<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Peering in from the outside, Glasgow seems to have an enviably strong restaurant game. There's none of your Michelin stars, but unlike Manchester, where this seems to really <i>matter</i>, Glasgow's restaurant scene seems happy just to shrug its shoulders and carry on, with a really formidable array of mid-range independents turning out menus of interesting ways with fine ingredients. Having not visited the city in years, and probably not since I developed an interest in premium restauration, we decided to hit up a couple of the city's tried and trusted old-stagers. Expect, in due course, to see some words describing our evening at <a href="http://www.roganoglasgow.com/" target="_blank">Rogano's</a>, but today I'm going to prattle on about <a href="http://www.ubiquitouschip.co.uk/" target="_blank">The Ubiquitous Chip</a>.<br />
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Set on the rather lovely and rather lively Ashton Lane, the place has been feeding people since 1971. The name has got something to do with the fact that owner Ronnie Clydesdale apparently refused to kowtow to Glaswegian tastes by serving chips, although they now do, of which more later. The experience of walking in for the first time is fantastic, as you struggle to take in the sheer quantity of plant life in front of you. The place is festooned by about half a jungle's worth of greenery. As we climbed the twinkly-lit staircase up to the brasserie we were welcomed by some very cheery staff, some really striking maritime-inspired artwork and a whole bunch more flora. I really, really liked it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sourdough, beetroot and horseradish dip</td></tr>
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As I did their house sourdough, toothsome of crust and tangy of crumb, which was served with a perky beetroot and horseradish dip. Our waitress said their farm is awash with beetroot, so it's finding its way into a lot of their dishes. I'd have liked a bit more horseradish thwack. Or just butter, actually. Still; really very good bread.<br />
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Being <i>avec child</i> has made eating out somewhat of a pain in the arse for Kasia, what with all those unpasteurised cheeses, rare-cooked meats and mercury-ridden fish to watch out for, so another word for our waitress who took all this in her stride, as well as recommending a couple of mocktails (I <i>hate</i> that word, but whatevs, at least I don't have to drink them). Want to know what someone used to drinking water looks like when they get to have something really tasty for a change? Here you go:<br />
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Starters, and we both went for haggis, mine being their signature venison effort and Kasia's being a vegetarian job. They both looked pretty identical, so one pic will do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G-MrqwK98Vo/WIOVa5QRUJI/AAAAAAAAwc4/RisgrFW3Fcgrjlx_9LvFMETFYtlvYUybACPcB/s1600/P1050037-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G-MrqwK98Vo/WIOVa5QRUJI/AAAAAAAAwc4/RisgrFW3Fcgrjlx_9LvFMETFYtlvYUybACPcB/s640/P1050037-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chip's own venison haggis, neeps and tatties</td></tr>
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Both were excellent. The venison one had serious depth, and was perfectly seasoned and spiced. I'd be interested to know which bits of the beast went into this as I thought you had to get the innards out of the things while still on the hill to prevent the meat going off. I forget half the stuff that went into the veggie one - lots of pulses - but it was cleverly done. I initially questioned the lack of a whisky sauce, but the neeps and tatties had been lubricated by appropriate amounts of butter, so all was well.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pentland pheasant breast, smoked aubergine, chargrilled celeriac</td></tr>
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Pheasant, being so lean, is a bugger to cook right, as I've learned by painful experience. No issues here: the breast was moist and tasted properly of the moors, if perhaps just a smidge underdone. All the accompanying bits and bobs, especially the aubergine and celeriac purées, were lovely, displaying exemplary technique.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ox cheek, cumin carrots, caremlised banana shallot, puffed buckwheat, cauliflower purée</td></tr>
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What was less great was that our mains had actually arrived just as we were finishing our starters; someone must've called them away by mistake. Whether it had anything to do with this I don't know, but they weren't especially hot. I'd like to think I'm not one of those chumps on T***advisor who judges a place on whether or not it serves "piping hot" food, but these were scarcely luke. Anyway, for all that Kasia's main of ox cheek had lovely spoonable meat, having been cooked down for who knows how long, and some unusually delicious carrots to boot.</div>
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Chips were good. Not quite crisp enough to be so good as to <i>need </i> to be ubiquitous, but good nonetheless.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highland crowdie cheesecake, bramble sorbet, honeyed oats</td></tr>
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This was not the kind of place I'd have expected to hear a phrase so try-hard and pretentious as "deconstructed" uttered by anyone, but that's what our waitress said as Kasia's cheesecake - sorry, "cheesecake", plopped onto the table. Regardless of the status of its construction, it was very tasty, especially the bramble sorbet which was a bracing blast of hedgerow.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate and whisky cremeux, toasted mallow, meringue</td></tr>
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<div>
My own pud was a nice balance between the grown-up flavours of bittersweet chocolate and whisky, and the less grown up sweetness of flumpy meringue. Do you still get flumps? Honestly, I used to love flumps!</div>
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With a glass each of very fine Negroamaro and Pedro Ximinez for me, the bill came to eighty six quid, not including service. Pretty reasonable for a fine meal of very competent cooking.</div>
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But - and not to sound unappreciative of the food - it's the room we ate it all in which was the star here. I've never been anywhere quite like it. If you fancy eating in what feels like the canopy of some temperate jungle without having to leave the west end of Glasgow, the Chip comes recommended. Which, if you live in that fair city, I imagine you already very much knew.</div>
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<b>8/10</b></div>
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The Ubiquitous Chip</div>
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12 Ashton Lane</div>
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Glasgow</div>
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G12 8SJ</div>
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<a href="http://www.ubiquitouschip.co.uk/" target="_blank"><b>Website</b></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/UbiquitousChip" target="_blank"><b>Facebook</b></a></div>
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<a href="https://twitter.com/UbiquitousChip" target="_blank"><b>Twitter</b></a></div>
Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-72309250502438450002017-01-07T16:53:00.000+00:002017-01-07T21:23:34.193+00:00Restaurant Review: Baba Yaga, Benwell, Newcastle upon Tyne<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have a half-arsed theory about why, despite there being getting on for a million Poles living in these isles (Polish is now, having overtaken Indian, the most common non-UK nation of birth for people living in Blighty) our streets are heaving with <i>skleps</i>, but you see scarcely any Polish restaurants about. Polish cooking is, according to my limited but not insignificant experience, best suited to the home; its canonical dishes are full of comfort and slow-cooked warmth. If one of the attractions of eating out is getting to try stuff you wouldn't bother to do yourself, there's not much sense in going out for the same food your <i>babcia</i> taught you to make.<br />
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That said, for those of you for whom the delights of <i>bigos</i> and <i>gołębie </i>are unfamiliar, Newcastle does have one Polish restaurant, and I'm here to tell you it's a cracker. It's also just a short stagger up the hill from our house, and by some distance the best - the only? - restaurant within a walk from our front door worth sitting down at. We've been a bunch of times and tried a good deal of the menu, so let me tell you what some of their best dishes are in order that, if you aren't already, you can get properly acquainted with this most hearty of cuisines.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bigos</td></tr>
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<i>Bigos </i>is probably the national dish of Poland, even cropping up in the epic poem <i>Pan Tadeusz</i>. It's basically a slow braise of both fresh and fermented cabbage, given body and depth by the addition of dried mushrooms and various cuts of pork (hence it often being referred to as hunter's stew). If you're interested, I posted a recipe for it <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/recipe-bigos-polish-hunters-stew.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Baba Yaga's version is delicious, full of the sweet and tangy depth that it ought to have, if perhaps a little light on meaty bits. It's churlish, however, to complain when they're only charging £2.50 for a bowlful which arrives with lovely dark bread, easily feeding two as a starter.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boiled and fried pierogi</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The other must-order is <i>pierogi</i>, frilly crimped half-moons of dumplingy goodness. You can get a couple of fillings, but we alw</span>ays get them Russian-style, which means potato and cheese innards for extra stodge. You can get them either boiled as they come, or boiled and then fried in butter til crisp. Or, if neither you nor your companion can win the argument over which is better, half and half. On our last visit these were bang-on. Doughy, hearty and soothing, with a tangy sour cream dip to lighten things up just a bit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px; text-align: justify;">Oscypek </span></td></tr>
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A word also for the <i>Oscypek</i> grilled cheese which will be popular with anyone who likes the squeak of halloumi, but comes with a deliciously smoky edge. It's served with a slice of grilled apple, and a cranberry sauce which, between them, provide a welcome backdrop of fruity tang for all that rich smokiness.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Placki</td></tr>
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By this point we're usually regretting, in the face of laughably vast "starter" portions, that we've ordered main courses too. I suppose when you've got Russia on one side and Germany on the other, each threatening to smite you out of existence at various times, you need to be well nourished in preparation for any ensuing shenanigans. The <i>placki</i> (pronounced plats-ski) they serve at Baba Yaga are absolute bangers. They're basically huge potato rösti, fried til crisp in butter and then used as the "bread" in a pork stew sandwich. So good. I think the pork stew might have had a waft of juniper in it last time round, which gave the whole thing a pleasant lift. I also appreciated the three cheffy dots of balsamic stuff, and tangle of carrots. Just because the food you're serving is hearty and homely doesn't mean things can't look nice!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EZ9BAj3pPDM/VX8ON1Rq5eI/AAAAAAAAL6w/vT-BBC_0RNk22eX8N645awYf3ivaa8FOgCPcB/s1600/P1020298-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EZ9BAj3pPDM/VX8ON1Rq5eI/AAAAAAAAL6w/vT-BBC_0RNk22eX8N645awYf3ivaa8FOgCPcB/s640/P1020298-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicken livers</td></tr>
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They also do a fine dish of chicken livers, fried in butter (natch) until they're blushing just slightly at their core. These are served with cooked apple and onions. I really like this meat/fruit combination that crops up in a number of Polish dishes. It feels a bit medieval or something.<br />
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We've managed dessert once and it wasn't that flash, some sort of pancake with sweetened quark. If you get to the end of two courses here and feel like you need more food then you should probs see your GP because something ain't right with you.<br />
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Baba Yaga means "Old Witch" in Polish and Slavic folklore, hence a liberal smattering of Halloween-type vibe around the place. Mostly, though, it's a rather choice set-up of vintage furniture, dark wood, exposed brick and flea-market knick-knacks. I'm not completely sure why they've hung a bunch of chairs from the roof. Maybe they just had too many.<br />
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This is a cracking restaurant run by lovely people. The food is ridiculously good value - we've never managed to spend more than about £15-20 per head, including booze - and the type of thing that sticks perfectly to the ribs in these dark days. If you're familiar with Polish food, you'll recognise a lot of the menu and I reckon you'll love it. If you're not, but appreciated hearty portions of homely cooking, even when it's not your own home, you'll love it too.<br />
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<b>8/10</b><br />
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Baba Yaga<br />
70 Adelaide Terrace<br />
Newcastle upon Tyne<br />
NE4 9JN<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/BabaYagaNewcastle/" target="_blank">Facebook</a>Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-11946884409195968572016-12-31T13:31:00.002+00:002016-12-31T13:31:55.361+00:00Lovely things to do #7: Take a wintery wander along Whitburn Cliffs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The intermission between Christmas and the New Year has been characterised by some first-rate climatic conditions; it's been as mild as supermarket cheddar, and even when it's been a bit chilly it's been as bright as an annoyingly precocious child. We've tried to make the most of it by squeezing in a couple of #lovelythingstodo, including the trip to the coast I will henceforth relate. Our normal brine-tinged haunts include Tynemouth, South Shields and the Northumberland coast up around Amble and Alnmouth. Where could we go for a change? I know: Sunderland!<br />
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<a name='more'></a>I must confess to being one of life's Sunderland non-appreciators. This is mostly due to football-based bigotry, but also due to a healthy dose of objective recognition that, considering how many people live there, it's just a bit rubbish. The "city" centre feels ridiculously low-rise, as if nobody has explained to them how to build anything more than three storeys tall, or as if they don't want to get too close to the sun in case their wings melt or something. But, in this season of good will, positivity and renewal, I'm here to say nice things about Sunderland. Or, at least Whitburn, which is close enough to Sunderland for the compliments I'm about to pay it to bleed into Mackemland too, by a sort of positivity-based osmosis.<br />
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I should like to start by commending the pricing strategy of Whitburn Bents car park. With a plethora of spaces available at 1p per minute, or £1 for all day (I shit thee not) there's really very little, if indeed any incentive to park illegally. We got out the car and started walking north. At about 11am the sun hung languidly to the south, casting a rather lovely light over the sea and cliffs.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surfy</td></tr>
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After a bit we got to a section of the cliff path that had been half-heartedly cordoned off due to some non-specified peril. We checked with a bloke who was out walking his dogs who said he'd lived there for twenty years and had no idea what the problem was. Neither, apparently, did any of the numerous mountain bikers or ramblers we encountered once we'd climbed through the fence into the danger zone. I should probably seek to indemnify myself against any future litigiousness by recommending that you yourself stay well away from this area. In fact, I definitely will, right now: Stay well away from this area!<br />
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If, out of some mad devil-may-care attitude you did press on, you might come across some interesting bird life, including Lapwings, Redshank and Golden Plover. There were great flocks of the latter, which alighted and then landed again in the fields next to the path as we walked along, which was a bit of a treat. They're bonny little things, which you can't quite tell from this picture. I'll maybe get a posh zoomy camera one of these days.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LwJIh0yWrTA/WGUrTII4nAI/AAAAAAAAv1A/JhmaPtA-trASm_IJGtbG6BC5DjnTOfSugCPcB/s1600/IMAG0501-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LwJIh0yWrTA/WGUrTII4nAI/AAAAAAAAv1A/JhmaPtA-trASm_IJGtbG6BC5DjnTOfSugCPcB/s640/IMAG0501-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plover lover</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IBwMBvrvkMg/WGUrQeVl-_I/AAAAAAAAv1A/dYPNvOdbkboyEfx4s25-gQW3U0lIil8gwCPcB/s1600/P1040892-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IBwMBvrvkMg/WGUrQeVl-_I/AAAAAAAAv1A/dYPNvOdbkboyEfx4s25-gQW3U0lIil8gwCPcB/s640/P1040892-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coastal fauna</td></tr>
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We turned back on ourselves a little way short of Souter lighthouse at a bunker/viewpoint thing at which I took the opportunity to scour the horizon for yet more wildlife/ dorty jormans. There was none of the latter, thanks goodness. We've <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/restaurant-review-colmans-south-shields.html" target="_blank">walked from South Shields to Souter Lighthouse before</a>, which is also nice, although runs closer to a busy road than doing it this way around.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ty9Vav3AgMQ/WGUrSA8DKJI/AAAAAAAAv1A/TvAXuemnTes56yK8ntY0q0N1woSnDc4CACPcB/s1600/IMAG0506-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ty9Vav3AgMQ/WGUrSA8DKJI/AAAAAAAAv1A/TvAXuemnTes56yK8ntY0q0N1woSnDc4CACPcB/s640/IMAG0506-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coast clear</td></tr>
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On the way back, as we staggered towards the dirty great ball of burning gas that will one day consume our descendents, assuming they haven't already consigned themselves to the history books (metaphorical history books of course, being as there'd be no-one around to write them) by kicking the shit out of the planet a bit <i>too </i>hard, it looked a bit like someone had just dropped an A-Bomb on Sunderland and that the Stadium of Light had a new and grim reason for being so named. I swiftly banished any thoughts that this might actually be a good idea, reasoning that the fallout would seriously and deleteriously impact the health of our home-grown veg, not to mention the fact that there wouldn't any longer be a football team in the region for me to thank my lucky stars I don't support.<br />
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Before jumping into the car and heading back to the correct side of the Tyne we paid our first ever trip to Latimers Seafood Deli and Cafe, which I've been meaning to do for years. They've got a cracking range of fresh, frozen and cooked fish and come heartily recommended.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the fishes</td></tr>
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We picked up some very pretty red mullet which I later turned into fried red mullet on pistachio risotto. Sounds a bit mad, but it works pretty well. Anyway, it's a Tom Aikens recipe. Are you saying Tom Aikens doesn't know what he's on about? Well, you're a braver soul than me. Say that to his face, I dare you!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--U3-_uNxVvQ/WGevKGUvsGI/AAAAAAAAv8s/APQwpXJ4Uq01f-Rpcdmf6GqHrL8EwNLnQCPcB/s1600/IMG_20161229_143106_605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="574" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--U3-_uNxVvQ/WGevKGUvsGI/AAAAAAAAv8s/APQwpXJ4Uq01f-Rpcdmf6GqHrL8EwNLnQCPcB/s640/IMG_20161229_143106_605.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thou shalt have a fishy</td></tr>
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These words are the last I'll upload to this blog in this year. 2016! What a time we've had, eh? If there's one thing I've learned it's that you can't rely on celebrities who you admire and whose body of work you respect not to drop dead in an unexpected and needlessly upsetting fashion. This being the case, it's up to the rest of us to just sort of soldier on, making the most of what scarce time we get before our own personal A-bombs detonate, by filling our days with #lovelythingstodo. See you on the other side.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-70948939247212160982016-12-29T16:26:00.001+00:002016-12-29T16:50:19.808+00:00Festive allotment check-up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Don't get me wrong, Christmas is brilliant, obviously. Going home and drinking tonnes of booze and forcing a week's worth of calories down the chute in twenty four hours and then meeting other people that you don't see all that often for more drinks and food and then seeing some of the outlying relatives during which why not have a bit of that leftover cake, and so on, and on and on: it's all brilliant. However, I'm also <i>quite </i>a big fan of the few days - if you're lucky enough to be excused from work - after which all major duties have been completed and set-piece meals consumed and you can just sort of potter about, tidy up and hunker down for a few days, punctuated only by Charlie Brooker's end-of-year thingy.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>We'll be hunkering and pottering from now until such time as our jobs require us to re-attend them. We pottered right on up to the allotment earlier this very morn, and a quite gorgeous, clear winter day it was too, crisp and fresh and, actually, a bit of warmth issuing from that lazy ol' sun. It's over a month <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/putting-things-to-bed.html" target="_blank">since the last time we were up there</a>, which on the one hand is a disgrace, but on the other hand is totally fine as there really isn't a great deal to be doing anyhow. Nonetheless, even in this most inhospitable of growing seasons, there are happenings and stirrings afoot.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New life</td></tr>
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The bed of broad beans, onions and garlic which I planted around the end of Oct/ beginning of Nov has fairly burst into action. It might not look like much from this wide angle, so let's get up in its face a bit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Broad beans</td></tr>
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We've had mixed results with <i>Aquadulce Claudia</i> - widely considered to be quite the best beans to sow in Autumn - in the past. One year they just didn't germinate at all. I assume that the relatively mild, and moist rather than sodden winter that we're having so far has helped them get off to a running start this time around. A couple have been munched upon but it does look that we'll have a good load of plants for an early beany harvest.<br />
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The onion news is similarly encouraging, with the majority of sets we planted having at least a bit of green erupting from their tops. No sign of the garlic yet, but that got planted a good couple of inches underground. Patience, patience!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XdG4jdav468/WGUiKJyIgvI/AAAAAAAAvzc/KMRc0xoe4AM40kyJIju9mZ7NeayBJwyFwCPcB/s1600/IMAG0516-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XdG4jdav468/WGUiKJyIgvI/AAAAAAAAvzc/KMRc0xoe4AM40kyJIju9mZ7NeayBJwyFwCPcB/s640/IMAG0516-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frosty kale</td></tr>
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There are even snippets of food still to be culled from the plot. Kasia gathered some <i>Cavolo nero</i> kale, which we'll be having with lamb chops and sauté spuds (some of the last of our own), seeing as you ask.<br />
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The days are already lengthening; before you know what's what it'll be time to chit the spuds, assess the seed-drawer and make plans for the new season. For now though, I've got some serious hunkering to crack on with.<br />
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Here's hoping you had a splendid and restive Festivus, and best wishes for the new year and beyond.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-73131590822147311282016-12-18T13:53:00.003+00:002016-12-18T14:40:09.177+00:00Lovely things to do #6: Go to Jesmond Food Market<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today's #lovelythingtodo comes with a side order of <i>mea culpa </i>and is recommended to be enjoyed while wearing thermal undies, multiple layers or whatever your favoured personal tactics are for keeping warm in circumstances which can described as nippy.<br />
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First, the guilty admission/apology: this was the first Jesmond Food Market I've ever been to. I know. As someone from round these parts with a healthy and ongoing interest in the local comestibles scene, this isn't good enough. Hopefully the following enthusiastic words, and encouragement that you yourself head along will go some way to rectifying the situation. Stood on Armstrong Bridge yesterday, enjoying what meagre heat the milky afternoon sun was kicking out, I tried to figure out why I'd never made it before.<br />
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In a word: Jesmond. I think I'm just not really a fan. Having formed an opinion of the area when living here as a student - ironically, the only time in my life I'll probably be able to afford to - as full of massive, expensive houses with no gardens, Chelsea tractors which cause interminable carnage on the narrow lanes and comically rubbish bars marked by - <i>especially</i> on bank holidays - a way higher than average twat/non-twat ratio, I've seen little since moving out west to change this view. Plus, *reverse snobbery klaxon!* still full of annoyingly posh students innit. Against this, you have the loveliness of the Dene, the fabulousness of Jesmond Dene House and the general leafy demeanor of the place. And, best of all I reckon, the monthly food market.<br />
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This is the doing of <a href="https://twitter.com/the_grazer" target="_blank">Anna Hedworth</a>, who is a bit of an all round hero of the local food scene. From her <a href="http://the-grazer.blogspot.co.uk/p/markets-events-and-pop-ups.html" target="_blank">supper clubs and events</a>, to the estimable <a href="http://cookhouse.org/" target="_blank">Cook House</a>, everything she puts her name to displays unerring good taste (you can hear Anna being interviewed for Radio 4's The Food Programme <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06z1zdw" target="_blank">here</a>), and the market yesterday was no exception. Let's have a look around, shall we?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ouseburncoffee.co.uk/" target="_blank">Ouseburn Coffee Company</a></td></tr>
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After getting on the wrong bloody bus from Monument (pro-tip: the 39 will <i>not</i> sort you out) and thus walking further than we'd planned, I was in need of hot liquid refreshment by the time we arrived. Hurrah then for <a href="http://www.ouseburncoffee.co.uk/" target="_blank">Ouseburn Coffee Company</a> who, for my money, make just about a perfect flat white.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flat white</td></tr>
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It's rich and powerful, just like that prick the Americans have recently elected, but much more pleasant to be around and less likely to (allegedly) sexually assault you. The machines they use have big handles to pull down in order to extract the espresso. I've no idea if these are an advantage over non-handle machines, but they add a nice manual element to the process. I've bought their beans before a few times, and they've always been first rate.<br />
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After casing out the full range of eatables we got bang into it, like a right pair of hungry idiots.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://twitter.com/geordiebanger?lang=en" target="_blank">Geordie Banger Co</a></td></tr>
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The smell of sausages compelled us to join the queue for the Geordie Banger Co. We've eaten their links in the past and they are absolutely solid. They were offering a sausage called "Secret Santa" or something, with apricot and stuff in it, but this sounded to me like a potentially unsound seasonal affectation, so we stuck with their core sausage which involves leek, mushroom and onion. I was intrigued by their sausage delivery format: for three quid you got two sausages in a squidgy white bun, the bottom half of which was coated in pease pudding and the top half of which had been dipped - cut side obviously - in some nostalgically smutty chip shop style gravy. Well, let me tell you now, this made for altogether one of the more compelling mouthfuls I've had in recent memory. Fine work, gents.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a lovely view</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kasia vs Geordie Banger Dip. Kasia won, after a violent but mercifully brief struggle</td></tr>
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While I'm fessing up to not having done stuff I ought to have, I should say that I've never had anything from Papa Ganoush, long term expounders of the street food vernacular. Or rather, I hadn't till yesterday.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://twitter.com/PapaGanoush1?lang=en" target="_blank">Papa Ganoush</a></td></tr>
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Their long-anticipated restaurant in Whitley Bay remains in the "not-quite-ready-yet" category, but based on the extremely delicious chicken shawarma wrap (£5) we had yesterday I'm looking forward to it. I guess part of the challenge in moving from the street to an actual building will be in deciding how big a menu to offer and what levantine delights to flesh the core offering out with, but I'm sure they don't need me to tell them that. The chicken was marinated in who-knows-exactly-what, but it was certainly a lovely thing. Most impressive was that they were making the flatbread wraps - and falafel, for those that way inclined - to order; no shortcuts here.<br />
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Have you ever wondered what sort of face I make when it's full of shawarma? No? Fair enough. Well, here it is anyway.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fetching</td></tr>
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I've seen Mike, AKA the <a href="http://www.thedoughnutguy.co.uk/" target="_blank">Doughnut Guy</a>, at the Quayside Market a couple of times and need to admit to having been a bit dubious about £3 for 3 doughnuts, even if they do have that word we all love so much "artisan" sitting next to them. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thedoughnutguy.co.uk/" target="_blank">The Doughnut Guy</a></td></tr>
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Such antipathy is probably borne of too many crap portions of "Dinky Donuts" and the like. Well, these doughnuts, properly yeasted and proved, are an entirely different proposition, and come highly recommended. They were gloriously crisp without and yielding within. Bonus points for the salted caramel sauce being home-made and compellingly delicious at that.</div>
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All told we spent something like £14 on what amounted to a three course meal, with drinks, for two. Brilliant.<br />
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We also picked up some really great (and actually sour!) sourdough from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pinklbakery/" target="_blank">Pink Lane Bakery</a>, who I think are The Bakery Formerly Known as Sugar Down. Also, a rich and cinnamonny Portuguese custard tart.<br />
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There were a bunch of great stalls flogging last minute Christmas gifts and other food related delights. I have to give a mention to <a href="https://twitter.com/TheFeathersInn" target="_blank">The Feathers Inn</a> stall for having just the most sensational looking pies and sausage rolls - we'll be back for those next time - and <a href="http://www.northumbriansmokehouse.co.uk/" target="_blank">The Northumbrian Smokehouse</a> for his excellent range of intriguing products, all of which use smoke to enhance, rather than than mask the flavours of the things that bear its lingering taint.<br />
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Altogether an excellent way to spend a wintery afternoon. Can I just offer thanks to, and solidarity with, the stallholders and everyone else who makes this thing work as although it wasn't as fiercely cold as Newcastle in December can be, they must still have been properly brassic. Which is all the more reason why we'll be back for the next one of these in January to lend our support and appetites to what is a really great market full of excellent food for now, and food for later. See you there.<br />
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<b>Lovely thing to do rating: 9</b>. I'd have probs given it a 10 if I hadn't had to trek all the bloody way from Benwell to Jesmond on public transport for it.</div>
Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-20886145172414151162016-12-13T21:48:00.003+00:002016-12-13T21:48:44.076+00:00Lovely things to do #5: Go to Newcastle Allotment Show<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An empty fairground, just before the show opened.</td></tr>
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Today's lovely thing to do, is an oldie but a goodie. It's nearly three months since we went to the 15th annual Newcastle Allotment Show, but if you think about it we're actually <i>closer</i> to the next one that you'll be able to attend than we would be if I'd written this up the next day, so basically this post is still relevant and totally worth me writing up. You may never have been to an allotment show before in which case you are totally missing out. Let the pictures of insane veg commence!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Veg as far as the eye would care to see</td></tr>
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We attended this thing once before, <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/mutant-veg-jealousy-bemusement.html" target="_blank">four years back</a>. I was badly hungover and found all the giant vegetables sort of threatening. This year I was in a much better clip and it was going to take more than a mutant-sized cauliflower to put me off my stride. Whereas in the past the thing was held at the Civic Centre, this year it was in Leazes Park. Apart from allowing for all sorts of outdoorsy activities, like a fun fair, circus acts and what have you, having the actual allotment show in the middle of a green space felt apt. Good one, Council. It cost £3 to get in. You can hardly buy a decent kick in the nuts for £3 nowadays, what with the crash in the pound and Brexit and everything, so I'm calling this a bargain.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's been a leek</td></tr>
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In the north we seem to get obsessed by competing to grow just a few things. At the Harrogate Flower Show there were more variations of daffodils than I could actually believe. How anyone was meant to figure out which was the grand champion daff was beyond me. It seems that the leek performs this role in the shadowy world of competitive veg. Someone needs to come up with a theory to explain this, something about the narcissism of small differences. I wonder if Freud had northern leek-slingers in mind when he came up with that? Anyway, never mind Freud, look at all these leeks, it's mental! Which is the best? Which leek is the most heroic, worthy and fabulous?<br />
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This one, that's which. Just look at that girthy big bastard with its perfect blanching and its emerald leaves in splendid formation. Well, hellooo there, you sexy little bitch of a leek! Twit-twoo! Etc. Actually there was none of that type of chat at the event, just lots of people looking at it and nodding to themselves, as if they knew they were in the presence of greatness. I kept my thoughts to myself so as not to appear weird or get arrested, like normal.<br />
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Away from the leeks, I particularly enjoyed the "Arrangement" category. This one came third, but I liked it best for its naturalistically arranged riot of colour and variety of produce.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanic White-Tips</td></tr>
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Look at these bloody cabbage. How do they do it? How do they keep them so free of slug and other similar damage? The patterns of their capacious leaves reminded me of breaking waves in a vast ocean, such as the Atlantic or maybe the Pacific, which, if you think about it, is quite an achievement for a cabbage. You don't get that from the ones in Lidl.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No</td></tr>
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I don't know what the fuck this was all about. I hope it was by a child because if not there's a sick and devious mind on the loose. It freaked me out. Nil points. It's got a spring onion shoved up its arse, for Christs sake. Shit ain't right, not even slightly.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The competition</td></tr>
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Obviously as we were wandering about we had the occasional thought about whether there were any categories we could actually enter next time, and I think there is. That pumpkin, top right? It won the biggest pumpkin award.<br />
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Here's Kasia with a pic of our crop a couple of weeks before harvest. We just grew these suckers without trying to get really big ones. What could we achieve if we actually put our minds to it? Next year we'll find out. I want to get on that goddamn podium!</div>
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As well as all the fruit and veg to admire there was another tent with all manner of food, nature and outdoors-related stalls. I made a bee-line for a couple of food stalls I've been meaning to hit up for a while at this type of thing but always missed.</div>
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Steve Peart runs Northumbrian Smokehouse and everything that I tried was flat-out delicious. Steve admitted to having ruined an awful lot perfectly good food in trying to figure out recipes for all his products. The mushroom pâté was wonderful,as were his smoked cheeses and the smoked black pud. In each case the smoke added something to the flavour of the thing in question, rather than batter it into submission. You can go and check him out at the Jesmond Food Market on Armstrong Bridge, this Saturday (17th Dec) for some last minute gifts.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete's Proper Pease Pudding</td></tr>
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I'd always been a bit dube about the idea of a gourmet pease pudding product, but I was bang wrong, as Pete's stuff is great. Both the cheesey one and the Marmite one use a tangy extra flavour to add something to the calm steadiness of the main ingredient. Highly recommended. </div>
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As, indeed, is the whole Allotment Show. We had a fine morning. If you're interested at all in growing stuff you will too, so watch out for it next year. Even if you're not, just come and gawp at the stuff, it'll do you good to get out of the house. One final note of happiness and optimism- Benwell Allotments (Bo! Shout out!) won most improved site, which filled me with all manner of pride.</div>
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<b>Lovely thing to do rating: </b>I'm going for an <b>8</b>. If we win the pumpkin thing next year I'll change that to a <b>10</b>. Is that a bribe? Damn straight.</div>
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Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-79931946845788334322016-12-07T22:25:00.000+00:002016-12-07T22:25:00.327+00:00Restaurant Review: Sunday lunch at St Mary's Inn, Morpeth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The first thing you'll want to know about St Mary's is that it's not, despite what the website says, in Morpeth, or not quite, anyhow. The second is that merely boshing the postcode into your sat nav may, depending on your model and how recently you have updated it, result in disaster. Kasia is from this neck of the Northumbrian woods so we had a head start. When the Garmin wanted to send us down a one-track lane in entirely the wrong direction we knew better. Pro tip: locate the place on your choice of mapping application and guide yourself in using that.<br />
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St Mary's Inn is set in what was the administrative building of a former lunatic asylum which closed in 1995. This is a open goal for anyone writing about the place because you can say things like "and you'd <i>have</i> to be mad not to order the foie gras!!", but I'm above that sort of thing, thankfully. Actually: is it still ok to say lunatic asylum? Was it ever? I don't want to offend any lunatics among my loyal readership, that's for sure. Tell you what, let's just say that the place where we had some Sunday lunch recently is housed in what used to be a <i>psychiatric institution</i> and move on shall we? Great. Phew!<br />
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Regardless of its heritage St Mary's is really quite nice inside, as you'd expect from the same crew that operate Jesmond Dene House. There's a bar/pub bit, and then what seemed like endless small dining rooms. The chalk-tone painted walls of the one we were sat in were puctuated with an interesting array of pictures. Some of bees and honey, some of vegetables, and some, if I remember correctly, of gorillas. I didn't see any gorilla on the menu, so their inclusion was a puzzle.<br />
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This meal marked the denouement of a weekend of fairly serious gluttony, so we limited ourselves to but two courses. I had my eye on the English onion soup, but other people wanted puddings, so I gave way. I'm so thoughtful!<br />
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Pork or beef? Beef or pork? Beef is the safer choice of Sunday roast, as bad beef is better than bad pork. However, <i>great </i>roast pork is better (and I understand that this is a contentious subject, but I'm right, so it's fine) than great roast beef, making it the gambler's choice. When the meat is dense and dark, the fat creamy and the crackling glassy, pig is very much where shit is at. I decided I was feeling lucky, so rolled the dice, and came up smelling of roses. And roast pork.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roast pork</td></tr>
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This was a roast which, while not quite ambrosial, certain brought together a lot of solidly prepared components. Spuds were<i> </i>excellent, although the modern trend for serving only two or three per portion is in my view a regressive policy. The meat itself was almost as I previously described, and well seasoned too. The crackling had some chewy bits among the crisp sections and the meat wasn't quite as darkly poised as some I've tried, but still delicious. The wodge of black pudding was an enjoyable extra oink, while the yorkshire was good, rather than superb. Same goes for the gravy, although bonus marks for the practice of bringing an extra jug unprompted.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roast beef</td></tr>
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Kasia went for the beef. It should be noted that the above portion had actually been requested to be well done due to current medical factors, but that despite its cremation it still packed impressive beefiness. Vegetables were lovely throughout, all al dente freshness.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steamed orange and treacle pudding, vanilla ice cream</td></tr>
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Puddings were both good too. I ordered a steamed treacle pudding, hoping to evoke memories of those Heinz ones that you steam in the tin. I used to frigging love those when I was a kid. St Mary's version was the right balance of stodge and lightness, athough I found the orange flavour a bit of a worthy interloper which prevented me from concentrating properly on the flavour of syrup. God I love syrup.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apple and dark forest fruit crumble, vanilla custard</td></tr>
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The crumble was lovely, full of fruit which had been sweetened to the point at which it is pleasantly rather than puckeringly tart.<br />
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We agreed afterwards that two courses had been enough, and jolly enjoyable they had been too. I can vouch for the Sunday afternoon performance at St Mary's, although as this was the first time we'd been, I can't comment on anything else they do. I've heard wildly varying reports, so let me know what you thought in the comments if you've been lately. Certainly they've had a bit of a to-do about retaining chefs. Shaun Hurrell was, if I remember right, installed as head chef here when it opened, before leaving quick sharp in order to do his Mexican thing (<a href="https://twitter.com/BarrioComida" target="_blank">Barrio Comida</a> opens <strike>soon</strike> TODAY where Riley's on the Quayside used to be, btw, and not a moment too soon).<br />
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Anyway, if you fancy a Sunday roast you can rely on in comfortable surroundings, St Mary's seems a good choice. You'd <i>have </i>to be mad...no, not worth it.<br />
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<b>8/10</b><br />
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St Mary's Inn<br />
St Mary's Lane<br />
St Mary's Park<br />
Morpeth<br />
NE61 6BL<br />
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01670 293 293<br />
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<b><a href="http://www.stmarysinn.co.uk/" target="_blank">Website</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/stmarysinn/" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/stmarysinn" target="_blank">Twitter</a></b>Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-70817736108829381112016-12-05T22:13:00.002+00:002016-12-05T23:38:43.015+00:00Restaurant Review: Chick 'n' Sours, Seven Dials, London<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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London! We were up to our necks in it the other weekend, what with a rather brilliant wedding taking place in Islington between two very lovely people that we know. We just had time to squeeze in a spot of lunch in town before meeting people and doing stuff, so, being the zeitgeist-surfing trend-observing types that we are, we headed straight to Seven Dials for a spot of fried chicken. Because, in 2016, nothing says achingly cool more than doing what KFC have been doing for years, but just <i>bloody better</i>.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>I tell you what though, once we secured and squeezed around a table - prepare to get familiar with your fellow man if you eat here - there was no mistaking we were among a far higher and more intimidating class of hipster than you tend to catch around Newcastle. The basement dining room was packing some powerful looks around its banquet and bar seating. I ignored them all so as to not feel scruffy and uncool and concentrated on the menu as the never-bettered sounds of Donna Summer and Giogio Moroder filled the gaps between conversations.<br />
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It all sounded pretty great, and was short enough for us to be able to order about half of the whole thing. I like being able to do that, it makes you feel all greedy and decadent. To hell with it, give me everything! I imagine when the barbarians were at the gates of Rome, people ordered generously. To be honest, it feels a bit like that nowadays what with one thing and another, so sod it: fried chicken for all!<br />
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The original Chick 'n' Sours is in Dalston and was a joint brain-fart between business partners Carl Clarke and David Wolanski. The former has had a career that I'll lazily describe as interesting, what with him having been a big-name DJ as well as working for chefs like Simon Rogan at Roganic and being Executive Chef for Harvey Nichols in Istanbul. This place in Covent Garden is their difficult second restaurant.<br />
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Except that, actually, they make it all seem so easy. Everything is brilliantly slick and organised, service doesn't miss a beat and we were in and out crazily quick. More on that in a bit, but first, lets have a look at some of the food.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Szechuan aubergine</td></tr>
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I had heard big talk about the Szechuan aubergine, so duly procured some. The aubergine itself had that lovely creamy texture which happens when it's been cooked for significant time, while the batter was at the sturdy end of the tempura spectrum. The whole thing was treated with a slick of a dark, hoi-sinnish sauce, spiked with chilli, but, slightly disappointingly, none of those addictively numbing szechuan peppercorns. Still, this was fine stuff.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickled watermelon rinds</td></tr>
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The house pickle was watermelon rinds, and they were very good too. Crunchy and chewy all at the same time, while lovely and sweet, the result of either significant quantities of mirin, sugar, or both.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">House fry: Seaweed crack and pickled watermelon</td></tr>
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The house fry was dusted with some sort of nori powder, or "seaweed crack", as they're calling it. I can't imagine robbing from my parents or prostituting myself for another plate of it, so perhaps they're going a bit far with that description, but it was nonetheless very tasty indeed. Biting through just about the right amount of seriously crunchy coating before making contact with steaming, juicy bird was a good time. If the chicken has been brined, then it was not overly so, for it lacked the pappiness that can be the result of this technique when too enthusiastically applied. The pickled watermelon was refreshing, but also, being spiked with a lot of chilli, a fine thing in itself.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guest fry: General Tso glaze, chilli, springonion and soy pickled green beans</td></tr>
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The guest fry would have been more fun if the stuff it was slathered in hadn't been either the exact same, or as near as dammit, as what we had on the aubergine starter. Maybe they could have alerted us to this fact. Still, more very good fried chicken, although once you'd caught a bit of that dense, sweet dark sauce, everything just tasted of it and the fact that they're getting quality birds to dunk in their oil was neither here nor there. With hindsight, we should have gone for the K-Pop bun, which looked like a remarkable bit of work.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-84apCg1tWMc/WDswnf96hzI/AAAAAAAAutw/jEr2aiDKqioGjVnd4xeAmIeic7eJUzP3QCPcB/s1600/P1040748-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-84apCg1tWMc/WDswnf96hzI/AAAAAAAAutw/jEr2aiDKqioGjVnd4xeAmIeic7eJUzP3QCPcB/s640/P1040748-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hunan style cucumbers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A side of smacked cucumbers was nice, although more chilli, and especially more garlic, would have been fine by me. We also got some very decent beef dripping fries and, just for a bit of greenery, a <i>really</i> good slaw that I think involved mandolined raw green beans, and definitely involved a fair whack of ginger.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ns94LwdZE_I/WDswkp8v_tI/AAAAAAAAutw/PIwZ_yKU-Tg2YLbHCmDtaEO4QacqebgPQCPcB/s1600/P1040742-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ns94LwdZE_I/WDswkp8v_tI/AAAAAAAAutw/PIwZ_yKU-Tg2YLbHCmDtaEO4QacqebgPQCPcB/s640/P1040742-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rye 'n' black; house soda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A word for the drinks which were completely great. My rye sours benefited greatly from the inclusion of red wine syrup and was so perfectly balanced it could have walked a tightrope if you'd asked it too. Kasia's house soda was based on watermelon, citric acid and minimal carbonation, and was very nice too.<br />
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So, how long do you reckon it took us to get in, eat and drink all this, visit the toilet (separately), pay and get out? Just over half an hour! We emerged blinking into the late afternoon feeling we'd just been subjected to a well-greased and very fashionable hit and run job. I get that rents in this part of the land are insane, and that they're serving a short menu and that the whole point is to turn tables as fast as poss, but still. The thing is, we didn't exactly feel rushed, it's just that the gaps between us asking for something and it arriving, or between something disappearing and the next thing turning up were basically zero. I've seen the future of trendy yet attainable dining and it's <i>bloody quick</i>.<br />
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I think this is one of those meals that also suffered just slightly from the curse of high expectations. I had read Marina <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/oct/21/chick-n-sours-london-wc2-restaurant-review-marina-oloughlin" target="_blank">banging on about this place in the Graun</a> a couple of weeks prior to our visit. Nonetheless, the idea of serving excellent quality fried chicken with a range of tangy, zingy drinks and sides is a sound one, and the people behind Chick 'n' Sours are to be congratulated on being so utterly competent. We waddled off to get some good coffee before hitting up Paul A Young chocolates. Soho is great.<br />
<br />
<b>7.5/10</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Chick 'n' Sours<br />
1a Earlham Street<br />
Seven Dials<br />
WC2H 9LL<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.chicknsours.co.uk/seven-dials" target="_blank">Website</a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/chicknsours/" target="_blank">Facebook</a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/ChicknSours" target="_blank">Twitter</a>Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-17099934654254085942016-11-27T20:52:00.001+00:002016-11-27T21:07:01.804+00:00I got a bunch of free stuff and that's why you should all buy Scotts Miracle-Gro products!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nIQbB1cmCBA/WDsxsIkr_kI/AAAAAAAAutM/lIzJrfoTAMsaE8WqC8i0Ecw6_fkkAN3nwCPcB/s1600/P1040720-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nIQbB1cmCBA/WDsxsIkr_kI/AAAAAAAAutM/lIzJrfoTAMsaE8WqC8i0Ecw6_fkkAN3nwCPcB/s640/P1040720-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Like most folk that write a blog, I got into this thing off the back of a personal passion, a hobby; I wanted to have somewhere to write about something that I enjoyed and cared about which, in my case, was our allotment. I wasn't that bothered if people read it or not as I was just doing it for the sake of it, to keep a diary, that sort of thing. However, when a few people started to tune in, and when I got a few comments below posts, it was pretty, pretty cool. Soon the buzz that comes from this kind of low-level affirmation wore off, so I got onto google analytics to see <i>just how many</i> people were reading what I was writing. There were more than I thought! I felt validated, and sort of important all over again. It was great! After a while the thrill of this subsided, and so like any other self-respecting blogger I sought the only other means of asserting my worth as a writer and self-facilitating digital content-slinger: Free Stuff!<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Free stuff is totally brilliant. If you haven't had it before then think back to the last time you paid less than you expected for something. Pretty good, wasn't it, yeah? Yeah! Now, imagine you didn't actually pay <i>diddly squat</i> for that thing! Can you even imagine how good <i>that</i> would have felt? Maybe you can or maybe you can't, it'll depend on how good your imagination is. If you can't imagine it, have a look at the picture of me at the top of this post. See how happy, validated and care-free I am in that moment? That's the power of free stuff!<br />
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The free stuff I got which I am writing about today was from <a href="http://thescottsmiraclegrocompany.com/" target="_blank">Scotts Miracle-Gro</a>, who are really just a brilliant company. I've hyperlinked their name so you can go to their great website! How it worked was they sent me an email, asking if I wanted some free stuff. Damn right I did! I emailed them back saying, "yes please", and they sent me a box of great stuff, which I am writing about now. Look at the picture below, it shows you some of the brilliant free stuff that they sent me!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsNYt0N9aAw/WDsxtBdVdKI/AAAAAAAAutU/xPCjeJx5f1EnBLVqBNmqAuDOwshiYEN6wCPcB/s1600/P1040727-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsNYt0N9aAw/WDsxtBdVdKI/AAAAAAAAutU/xPCjeJx5f1EnBLVqBNmqAuDOwshiYEN6wCPcB/s640/P1040727-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are the kind of free stuffs you can get if you blog</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There's a bird feeder and some seed to go in it, some slug pellets, some rose and shrub feed, some stuff for repairing patches in your lawn and so, so much more! It's a veritable smorgasbord of shit-hot gardening products, and no mistake.<br />
<br />
The only down side of getting free stuff like this is that you have to think of some words to describe it in your blogpost, which, lets face it, is a total hassle! <a href="http://thescottsmiraclegrocompany.com/" target="_blank">Scotts Miracle-Gro</a> were kind enough to send some press releases for the products in the box, so I don't even have to bother with that, I can just say exactly what they want me to! Good, eh? So, for example:<br />
<br />
<i>Spring into action! NEW SlugClear(tm) Ultra3 pellets provide a simple remedy to help gardeners protect tender plants, shrubs and seedlings from slug and snail attack this spring.</i> Or...<br />
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<i>Bringing Miracles Indoors! The NEW</i> [dunno why NEW is always in caps] <i>Miracle-Gro Houseplant Feed range brings the satisfaction and results of using Miracle-Gro plant feeds back indoors. Feeding houseplants has never been so quick, easy and produced such successful results</i>.<br />
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You get the picture, their stuff is pretty much all brilliant. But don't just take my words, or rather their words, for it, lets have a couple of pictures which show me actually using their products so that you can totally see how using them would fit neatly into your own busy, modern life!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWaI94gWfM/WDsxttndZRI/AAAAAAAAutY/IL3pguyIpKkWeWQ_zJyCS2Dug7MOlncwgCPcB/s1600/P1040722-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="520" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWaI94gWfM/WDsxttndZRI/AAAAAAAAutY/IL3pguyIpKkWeWQ_zJyCS2Dug7MOlncwgCPcB/s640/P1040722-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In goes the ChapelWood garden wildlife care wild bird food supreme mix!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-umQb-7yvjWA/WDsxsjlb2AI/AAAAAAAAutQ/DcOMudO5YLkVJ4P6Ve5f_ALtq4NWZ2ICACPcB/s1600/P1040726-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-umQb-7yvjWA/WDsxsjlb2AI/AAAAAAAAutQ/DcOMudO5YLkVJ4P6Ve5f_ALtq4NWZ2ICACPcB/s640/P1040726-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took this picture with the brand clearly visible</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Soon after I took these pictures my garden was awash with every imaginable species of garden bird native to these isles, and even some that weren't, all of which would have probably perished and died if it wasn't for the delicious and nutritious ChapelWood bird food they were now feasting on. What a result! Thanks again, <a href="http://thescottsmiraclegrocompany.com/" target="_blank">Scotts Miracle-Gro</a><br />
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So you're reading this and you're probably thinking "great, but where do I come in?" Great question, and let me answer it for you right this very bloody minute via the medium of the typed word. Here's the deal: in order for me to get more free stuff in the future, and then be able to write brilliant and informative posts like this about that stuff <i><b>you have to go out and buy </b></i><a href="http://thescottsmiraclegrocompany.com/" target="_blank"><b><i>Scotts Miracle-Gro</i></b></a><i><b> products</b>.</i> Don't ask me how this stacks up, it's just the way capitalism is nowadays. I don't think it matters where you buy their products from and you shouldn't have any problem finding them as they're completely ubiquitous, so go on: skedaddle! Buy!<br />
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I think they best way to sum this all up is to just take a minute together to think about what would happen if you didn't now buy any <a href="http://thescottsmiraclegrocompany.com/" target="_blank">Scotts Miracle-Gro</a> products. Maybe nothing would happen and everything would be fine, but somehow I doubt it. No, I think there would be consequences. I'm certain of it.<br />
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First, they might reconsider their blogger outreach programme. That could mean no more free stuff for me, and people like me. Secondly, and concomitantly, there wouldn't be any more blogposts about brilliant gardening products. How would you know what stuff to buy? You'd have to figure it out for yourself. I don't suppose you need me to spell out just how terrifying that would make your next trip to Homebase or B&Q!<br />
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Lastly, but not leastly, blogs might have to revert to what they started out as, namely a way for people with a genuine interest in something, and maybe just an ounce or two of ability to communicate that interest via words and pictures, to get their thoughts, experiences and opinions out into the world, free from the degrading and corrupting influence of capital. And this isn't just gardening blogs I'm talking about. This applies to <i>all</i> blogs, and the free stuff that the people who write them get! Restaurant meals! Make-up! All of it! Does that sound like the kind of thing you want to see? Do you want that on your conscience? Is that the world you want to leave to your kids?<br />
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No, didn't think so. And don't forget the bloggers. You've seen how happy getting free stuff makes us. Do you want to be responsible for taking that happiness away? No, again, I didn't think so. So get out there and do what you know, deep down, needs to be done: Buy <a href="http://thescottsmiraclegrocompany.com/" target="_blank">Scotts Miracle-Gro</a> products!<br />
<br />
Thank you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Scotts Miracle-Gro kindly sent me a box full of their products Nonetheless, all opinions expressed here are my own and are completely untainted by the generosity of Scotts Miracle-Gro: Exciting innovation from the nation's favourite gardening brands.</i><br />
<br />Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-71066246954576127222016-11-21T21:39:00.000+00:002016-11-21T21:39:17.735+00:00Restaurant Review: MOD Pizza, Metrocentre<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cq25HeHpW4c/WDNYPsVK_NI/AAAAAAAAukM/RHyOFAszV7QYQPCSbeiUDrW7fMQ6gXvBwCPcB/s1600/IMAG0392-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cq25HeHpW4c/WDNYPsVK_NI/AAAAAAAAukM/RHyOFAszV7QYQPCSbeiUDrW7fMQ6gXvBwCPcB/s640/IMAG0392-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Choice! That's what people want, isn't it? Loads and loads of choice! By exercising our ability to peruse and discern we become the glorious self-actualised inner dream of the capitalist system, and it makes us all really happy too! Choice for all!<br />
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I'm not so sure. I don't want a choice of hospitals, I just want the one nearest to where I live to be really good. Same goes for Fire Stations. And schools. I don't want to have to spend hours researching the advantages of such and such free school over thingummy academy, I just want the nearest one to where we live to be worth going to. What's the hell has this got to do with pizza? Hang about, I'm getting there.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
One of the most famous pizzerias in the world is L'Antica Pizzeria da Michele in Naples. At da Michele you can get two pizzas, a marinara or a margherita. That's it. The fact that the queue is always out the door may have something to do with a certain (<i>totally </i>shit, by the way) film <a href="https://vimeo.com/128862113" target="_blank">starring Julia Roberts</a>, but it's also because what they do is just very good indeed.<br />
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Which brings us to MOD pizza at the Metrocentre, where you can choose from a bewildering quantity of ingredients to concoct just about any pizza in the world. Apart from a good one.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NYtXuyAfjFg/WDNYM2TeFXI/AAAAAAAAuj4/dpRSiwmoq6QyNlm0diJtVfpeXOzCSiuAACPcB/s1600/IMAG0386-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NYtXuyAfjFg/WDNYM2TeFXI/AAAAAAAAuj4/dpRSiwmoq6QyNlm0diJtVfpeXOzCSiuAACPcB/s640/IMAG0386-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely people, the whole lot of them</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The drill here is much the same as at the recently opened Pizzastorm in Eldon Square, which means it's basically like Subway, but with pizzas. They grab an 11 inch disc of dough, load it up with whatever you want, bang it in the oven for 5 minutes then call your name. You know that bbq sauce, roasted garlic and basil pizza you've been lusting after all these years? Now's your chance, you sicko! No matter what you have, your pizza will cost £7.47. That's also the price of their salad bowl, which, similarly, you build up out of whatever choice of greens and other stuff you want.<br />
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Let's do the positive bits first. All the staff were really, really nice, and were certainly putting whatever customer-focused gee-up they've had in training into practice. We asked whether their cheese was pasteurised and one lovely person made it her personal mission to find out whether it was. They've got Punk IPA on tap, which tasted like nectar from an oasis in the desert of taste that is the Metrocentre. They've got bottles of sriracha for you to help yourself to. Some of the stuff you can bung on your pizza or in your salad is moderately interesting: roasted garlic cloves, artichoke hearts, that sort of thing. Now though, sadly, we must speak of dough.<br />
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My heart had sank a bit when I saw the lifeless disc of uncooked carb they were loading my choice of ingredients onto, and pre-bake fears were duly confirmed when biting into the thing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N380zqL0grI/WDNYNzV3HeI/AAAAAAAAukA/zAZfAaU3maI-tLJEFBDGZ3YCJKJSNayDACPcB/s1600/IMAG0388-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N380zqL0grI/WDNYNzV3HeI/AAAAAAAAukA/zAZfAaU3maI-tLJEFBDGZ3YCJKJSNayDACPcB/s640/IMAG0388-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dominic" pizza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The texture of the base was somewhere between that of a Dr Oetker and a Carr's water biscuit, which is to say crispy, but quite devastatingly dry, and about as interesting as a tax return. Daunted by the prospect of bellowing out my choice of ingredients like I was at some weird food-based bingo hall, I chose one of their "top 10", the "Dominic", a white sauce and asiago cheese affair, to which I'd added anchovies. Just as well, as their salty tang distracted me from the sad rounds of uncooked and tasteless tomatoes which dominated the scene.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8o3DqhC0YBY/WDNYOtG5cQI/AAAAAAAAukE/0IWHR5vtKWMjo_LFrVcr0FDwbp2OZ-NXgCPcB/s1600/IMAG0389-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8o3DqhC0YBY/WDNYOtG5cQI/AAAAAAAAukE/0IWHR5vtKWMjo_LFrVcr0FDwbp2OZ-NXgCPcB/s640/IMAG0389-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Lucy sunshine" pizza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The "Lucy Sunshine" (where are they getting these names from?) was cheesy with blobs of red sauce. That's about all I can say, really. At the end of the day, anything you order is going to come on a frisbee-sized roundel of lifeless tasting dough. It would need the full cast of Friends to turn up, tap-dancing on the thing to inject a bit of interest into it. Just to be clear, that didn't happen.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNDI2Oz08jk/WDNYNYVnchI/AAAAAAAAuj8/EbHCXq24bFEMygRqECBmCnkmuP6IZ0qrwCPcB/s1600/IMAG0387-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNDI2Oz08jk/WDNYNYVnchI/AAAAAAAAuj8/EbHCXq24bFEMygRqECBmCnkmuP6IZ0qrwCPcB/s640/IMAG0387-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salad</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The salad was nice because it made a change from very average pizza. The dressing didn't taste of much mind, but that's probably my fault for not asking for more of it.<br />
<br />
MOD pizza comes with some schmaltzy back story, which you can read about <a href="https://modpizza.co.uk/we-are-mod/" target="_blank">here</a> if you've nothing better to do.<br />
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I can't be too down on this place, for a couple of reasons. They claim that they pay their people well. I don't know how well, but saying it is at least a start, so fair enough for that. Also, they have what seems to be a genuine approach to CSR, giving profits to local charities when they open up new stores. Lastly, they're in the Metrocentre. So, well, you know. Better than Big Lukes innit.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CxWSImlAIq0/WDNYPTjTdTI/AAAAAAAAukI/boGlkY-7njEfyZ2UgWz3Spv7AeGkyCa5wCPcB/s1600/IMAG0390-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CxWSImlAIq0/WDNYPTjTdTI/AAAAAAAAukI/boGlkY-7njEfyZ2UgWz3Spv7AeGkyCa5wCPcB/s640/IMAG0390-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Revolution" has the word "love" in it, if you go backwards! Fancy that!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's just a shame the pizza was rubbish, otherwise this could have been somewhere we'd return to on the odd film night that sees us brave the Yellow Zone. As it is, we'll probably just stick to the pick n mix.<br />
<br />
<b>5/10 </b>(bonus points for good beer and really nice staff. Oh, and the music was really quite good)<br />
<br />
MOD Pizza<br />
The Qube<br />
Intu Metrocentre<br />
NE11 9XG<br />
<br />
0191 460 0849<br />
<br />
<a href="https://modpizza.co.uk/" target="_blank">Website</a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/modpizzauk?lang=en" target="_blank">Twitter</a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/MODPizzaUK/" target="_blank">Facebook</a><br />
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<br />Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-39570805762017056932016-11-20T19:12:00.000+00:002016-11-20T19:12:57.093+00:00Putting things to bed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CpPgSPfn4Sk/WDHo56Zv3-I/AAAAAAAAuiA/P1jiTctm8hAVjX1HFS4gv7Xcms_v_5UlQCPcB/s1600/P1040739-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CpPgSPfn4Sk/WDHo56Zv3-I/AAAAAAAAuiA/P1jiTctm8hAVjX1HFS4gv7Xcms_v_5UlQCPcB/s640/P1040739-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'm just back from the allotment, where, as a dusty blue dusk was gathering, things are now pretty much as they will be for the next few months. I like this point of the year, allotment wise. Weeds are not immune from the natural laws which dictate that everything should slow down; it's satisfying to know that if you clear a patch it'll stay that way, until around March time at least.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>I spent a chunk of the afternoon lugging bin bags of horse manure from the communal area where they are left, to our plot, whereupon they were spread over the patches that I had properly cleared of nettles and docks. This may sound like unglamorous work and indeed it is, but I can assure you it is preferable to the poo situation at our prior allotment site, which I was reminded of by one of those Timehop-style pics in my Facebook feed the other day. There were no neatly bagged deliveries there, no sir. You just had to get in touch with a farmer who would bring a trailer full of the stuff and dump it outside your plot. We were unexperienced in such matters and had no idea how much "a load" was. It turned out to be four tonnes. It took us all of a gruelling afternoon to shift it. Great times, great times.<br />
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The manure that I spread about the place today was a bit heavy on the straw, although there was plenty of the good stuff in there too. Ideally I would have dug it in a bit, but the ground was quite sodden, and, frankly, I couldn't be arsed. Three patches got a healthy top dressing of the stuff. I'll leave the frosts and the rains to break it down a bit before deciding when to incorporate it into the soil.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cavolo nero</td></tr>
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Even as some of the patches were put to sleep for the winter others are, albeit in slow motion, still bearing fruit. Or, to be more precise, still bearing vegetables. I left the plot with a good-sized bag of cavolo nero and chard. The former is one of the very finest things you can grow on a British allotment, in my view. It's completely delicious, easy to grow (especially for a brassica, at least in our experience), crops well into winter, and is expensive to buy in the shops, if you even find it. All the boxes ticked, then.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celeriac</td></tr>
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I also pulled up the first of our 6 or so celeriac, which was a modest but very usable size. The smell of earth and celery as I hoiked it up was perfectly and appropriately autumnal.<br />
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They're certainly one of your weirder veg, with a zillion little roots that make them look like some sort of face-hugging alien.<br />
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Alien or not, this will go into either a mustardy remoulade, a milky purée or something else if anyone fancies giving me a better idea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Growing against the season</td></tr>
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Even as most things shut down, there are just a few outbreaks of new life. We've given one patch over to over-wintering veg. In it, a few weeks back, I sowed Aquadulce Claudia (<i>absolutely</i> my favourite named variety of any vegetable) broad beans, some Japanese onions and some garlic. Today, just a few of the onions appeared to have sprouted, although who knows what the broad beans and garlic are up to underground? We've written patches of over-wintered stuff off before, only for them to snap to life once spring comes, so we'll be patient with all of this lot.<br />
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This is the end of out first full season on this plot, and it has been great. It's never going to be especially beautiful, what with its history as a pigeon loft and then a prime fly-tipping spot, but I like that it looks so un-pastoral, and yet things grow just fine. We've got a place to grow stuff that seems to be productive, has a lovely light tilth, is just a minute from our house and is small enough to remain manageable even when we succumb to one of our regular bouts of laziness and procrastination. As I sauntered home, taking in the half-hearted but rather lovely sunset, breath starting to show in the crispening air, I was thankful for all of that.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-4442775713514276412016-10-06T22:50:00.001+01:002016-10-06T22:50:05.969+01:00Lovely things to do #4: The Great North Run<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today's lovely thing to do isn't just about the thing itself, lovely though that thing undoubtedly is, but what leads up to it too. There are no shortage of people who've done the Great North Run. Something like 50,000 tramp round every year, so I'm claiming no special achievement here. The thing is a lot of those people will be the drawn from the young and the naturally fit. I am neither of those things.<br />
<a name='more'></a>Prior to training for this, the last time I did any actual running in actual trainers was probably the cross country at Dumfries High School, about 18 years ago. For some reason the sadistic bastards made you jog over icy fields and frozen mud in the middle of winter. Once I discovered music, booze and tabs, running stood not a chance.<br />
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Then towards the back end of last year I decided, for no reason that I can quite remember, that I was going to do the GNR. I think I liked the idea of getting a bit fit and was also fed up watching the thing on the tele with a pounding head and a gob like death valley, getting pathetically emotional at the story of some one-legged octogenarian, running in memory of someone or other. What would it be like to <i>actually do the bloody thing</i>? Only one way to find out.<br />
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To my complete shock and happy surprise, I found out I quite liked running. Sure, you feel all wheezy and shit at the time, but afterwards you feel great. Who knew!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running makes you feel so fresh and vital</td></tr>
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The only problem was things kept going a bit wrong with my legs. Years of under-use had clearly left them withered and weak. God bless the NHS; I got to see a physio just a few weeks after referral who sorted me out with all manner of strengthening exercises. Even so, by the arrival of the big day the longest training run I'd managed was 8 miles. During the week leading up to the GNR my hip was hurting to walk on and I was pretty much sure that as soon as I started to run it would give out, and I was going to have a grim 13.1 mile walk on the cards.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan, Ella and I head to the start line</td></tr>
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I'd arranged to at least start with my sister Megan, who's done a bunch of these things, and even a marathon. A few other assorted friends were running it too, which was all to the good. As we headed to the start line the air was heavy with anticipation and Vaseline. Even as I followed Mr Motivator's warm-up (what the hell does he do the other 364 days?) I was sure my gammy hip was going to screw me over.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, doing it.</td></tr>
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Then we started running, and everything was ok! In fact, even better than that, I felt <i>really quite good</i>. Honestly, when we got to about 5 miles and I knew that I was going to be able to finish the thing, I don't think I've ever felt happier or more relieved. Everyone says the atmosphere is amazing, and it really is. The Red Arrows went overhead just as we started and every time a band or a DJ was at the side of the road I got shivers. The whole thing shook my misanthropic outlook to its foundations.<br />
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Up until 8 miles, everything was great. Between 8 and 10 it got a bit tough. Everything after that passed in what seemed like a slow-motion blur during which I was vaguely aware that my breathing had gotten weirdly noisy. There's a long uphill section which is just really hard work. At about 11 miles I clocked a kid handing out ice-pops; let me tell you, that strawberry Mr Freeze was, at that moment, the most wondrous thing I had ever tasted. The last mile was brutal.<br />
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Megan and I finished together in just under 2 hours 23 minutes. I was elated and sort of in a daze. It took a good few minutes to be sure I wasn't going to faint. I had wanted to get round without stopping, which happened. You can see why they call stuff like this endurance events, because unless you're some kind of superhuman, that's all you have to do- keep bloody going. I've got a new found respect for distance runners everywhere. The whole thing makes you pretty proud to live round here too. It's a brilliantly organised day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done</td></tr>
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We walked to Colmans in South Shields to get what proved to be the most wondrous tasting portion of fish chips I've ever tasted, before getting in the queue for the Metro.<br />
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There's something canivalesque about the whole day, from the fact that the traffic stops for the thousands of people on the streets to the fact that you can legitimately litter, lobbing lucozade bottles onto the street without fear of reprisals. I can't remember the last time I smiled at, or talked to, so many strangers. Days like this make you think that, actually, maybe our species isn't so bad after all.<br />
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I was running for <a href="http://www.children-ne.org.uk/" target="_blank">Children North East</a>, a fantastic local children's charity who do all sorts of great work across the region. If you're minded to consider sponsoring me you can still do so <a href="http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserPage.action?userUrl=LeeBurns&faId=736562&isTeam=false" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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I've said I'll do it again next year. There aren't many days that end with a complete and total sense that you've achieved everything you wanted to when you got out of bed. If you've never done it before, <a href="http://www.greatrun.org/great-north-run" target="_blank">give it a go</a>. This seems like hyperbolic schmaltz these few weeks after the event, but it was easily one of the best days I've ever had.<br />
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<b>Lovely thing to do rating: </b>Has to be a 10/10. Yes it costs about sixty quid to enter, but who cares. I've got a frigging medal and everything!Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-54740472288408086692016-09-25T19:41:00.001+01:002016-09-25T19:41:09.982+01:00Late season scorecard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've been neglecting the plot again. Not full-on Fritzl-level neglect you understand, but certainly enough to alert the authorities, assuming that there were any authorities that paid attention to neglected allotments, which, luckily for us, there isn't really. And yet, as we get to the end of the harvest season, we're still reaping the benefits of this gig with plenty of fresh veg coming our way on those one or two times per week when we bother to make the 5 minute walk up to the plot. I think we're late enough in the season to reflect a bit on what has done well and also not so well, don't you? You do? Very well friends, let's do it!<br />
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<b><u>Things that have done well</u></b><br />
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<u>Potatoes</u><br />
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Nothing to boast about here you might think, any old fool can grow a decent set of spuds, right? Well maybe, but we've had real problems getting a good crop grown some years on our previous plot at Nunsmoor Allotments. There the soil was heavy and full of clay. Here on Benwell Allotments it's light and free-draining. Perhaps this has made all the difference, but whatever it is, we've had quite startling results both this year and last. King Edwards in particular have grown oodles of first-rate tubers with very little in the way of pest damage, and with a quite superior flavour. They make fabulous roasties.<br />
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<u>Beetroot and chard</u><br />
Beetroot are total masochists, you can treat them like shit but they just keep coming back. We left a full tray of seedlings alone for too long and so they had all wilted by the time they got into the ground. A few weeks later and they had settled right in. A couple more and we had rows of the buggers. We've grown a longer variety rather than the more usual round Boltardy and they've done great. I'll be pickling some as soon as we finish eating last year's, and there will be many roasts and risottos to come which will feature their garish hues. We've got two thumping big chard plants left after two bolted irretrievably, and they're producing plenty of tasty foliage. Chard with soy, ginger and garlic is a bit of a revelation.<br />
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<u>Leeks</u><br />
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We didn't grow leeks last year and I rather missed them. There's something very calm about a nice leek; they don't grow too fast, just sort of sitting there in sentinel-like rows. We're harvesting them now and they're completely delicious. When this fresh, they're excellent chopped as finely as your knife skills will permit and used as the onion component in a quick stir fry.<br />
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<u>Onions and shallots</u><br />
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All our shallots, and the vast majority of our onions were planted last Autumn. I like to do this as it means you've got at least something going on over winter, and if they do knacker up then you can just put Spring-planted sets in anyhow. The downside is that Autumn planted sets tend not to store nearly as well, a fact we would have done well to remember as we ended up throwing a lot of rotten onions away. Still, that's our fault, not theirs. We grew banana-style shallots - I much prefer these as they aren't too fiddly to peel - and they did well, despite being in the shade of some massive potato plants for quite a while.<br />
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<u>Tomatoes</u><br />
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We totally cheated with the tomotoes this year, buying all six of our plants from B&Q in a ready-to-plant variety set for about four quid. Varieties included Sungold, Moneymaker, Gardeners Delight and a crinkly one whose name escapes me. They all did pretty well, and despite only getting watered once or twice a week have fed us a steady stream of fruit throughout August and September.<br />
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I think I will grow from seed next year - buying plants is a fantastic time saver, but you on't quite get that sense of ownership or achievement when they work out. The flavour of all the varieties has been good rather than superb.<br />
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<u>Radishes and turnips</u><br />
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It's hard to go wrong with radishes, but we have had bother with turnips in the past. Not this year! Purple Top Milan turnips are one of my favourite veg, they're just so goddam purty. We've grown them in a slightly shaded mini raised bed and they've bloody loved it in there.<br />
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<u>Climbing beans</u><br />
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Two cane wig-wams of bean plants have provided us with more than we could eat over the last month or so. We must try and stagger the planting of these a bit next year. We cooked these with some miso and butter the other night and they were superb. Are you noticing a bit of an Asian theme developing? Me too. There's something about the deep savouriness, or umami if you will, of ingredients like soy, fish sauce and miso that just makes fresh veg sing.<br />
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<u>Plum</u><br />
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Although we didn't get to eat any of these four plums - they all fell off and got munched by the wildlife - I'm still chalking this up as a victory. We rescued this tree from the old allotment more in hope than expectation as it had never even blossomed in its three or so years there. Well, it did this year and proceeded to produce fruit! Hopefully next year it will really hit it's stride.<br />
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<u>Pumpkin</u><br />
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Let's not piss about the bush here - these, by any metric, are mahoosive! Kasia is well chuffed, as pumpkins are her department. Funny how you take a liking to growing certain veg and not others. I'm all about the tomatoes and the potatoes, but I'm not fussed for pumpkins. What's that all about?<br />
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<u>Other stuff that did good</u><br />
We got a whole load of gooseberries for the first time and made a delicious fool. Rhubarb is doing well, although we've under-utilised it. I fancy making some rhubarb wine. We've got celeriac in and they're looking good. I will turn at least one of them into a classic remoulade. That's about it.<br />
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<b><u>Things that have not done well</u></b><br />
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<u>Courgettes</u><br />
I <i>know</i>! After years of having way too many courgettes on our hands we took the decision only to have three plants this year. One promptly died and the other two have grown stupendous amounts of foliage, but hardly any fruit. It's so ironic that I rang Alanis Morisette up the other day with a suggestion for an additional verse for that song about irony she did years ago. I couldn't get past her publicist. Her loss.<br />
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<u>Broad beans</u><br />
We bought spring sown ready-to-go plants - The Sutton I think - from B&Q, but they didn't do great. We got a tiny crop before they all succumbed to some sort of chocolate-spot type discolouration on the leaves and pods. It'll be back to good old Aquadulce Claudia (surely one of the best named varieties of any vegetable around) next season, and we'll be planting them this Autumn so they get a head start too.<br />
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<u>Cavolo Nero</u><br />
The jury is still very much out on our Cavolo Nero. It did fantastically last year, providing us with iron-laden leaf deep into the dark recesses of winter. This year one plant died shortly after planting out and the rest have just sat there sullenly, not putting on much growth and taking a bit of a hammering from the bastard slugs. Perhaps it will yet rouse itself, like a green phoenix. Hope so, as kale chips are one of the very best things ever.<br />
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So, only two, possibly three failures out of everything we've grown; a very tolerable hit-rate. To be honest I've been happy to have a year off the courgettes anyway.<br />
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I think next year we need to decrease our spud allowance again, as I've still to dig a load of main croppers up. I'd like to grown some more interesting stuff too, not just the staples. I want to get carrots going and I've been toying with the idea of an asparagus bed, but what else should we grow in our light tilth?<br />
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What has been good for you this year, and what hasn't worked out so well. Any surprises? Let me know!<br />
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Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-92003519909768490672016-08-26T10:45:00.000+01:002016-08-26T10:45:13.426+01:00Lovely things to do #3: nature amongst the industrial desolation at Seal Sands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's a bank holiday coming up! The weather forecast is (mostly) looking decent! You need to get out there and <i>do something,</i> but what? What the <i>heck will you do</i>?! Well fear thee not, for right here at Patchy Growth we have, as they say, got your back. Yes, that's right, brace yourself: it's time for a Lovely thing to do!<br />
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<a name='more'></a>You might think that a flat slice of estuary bang slap in the middle of the grimly industrial hinterland that joins Middlesbrough and Hartlepool doesn't sound like the most likely spot to gawp at a bit of nature and, well, you'd be right. However, based on my own actual experience, I'm here to tell you otherwise. We've been off work for a bit you see and have thus had the chance to do some of the stuff that you never get round to, which has been great. This included, just a couple of days ago, a visit to Seal Sands.<br />
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I have no particular wish to offend any Middlesbrough folk here, but I do think it's hard to overstate just how shockingly dystopian the landscape is round here. And yet there's something about that which I find perversely appealing. It's as if, while the rest of the world has found a way to mostly obscure the worse ravages of industrialism, Middlesbrough just hasn't bothered, which is an admirably honest tack to take. Factories, chemical works and god knows what petro-chemical else cling sullenly to the marshy landscape, lazily belching out emissions, joined by vein-like pipes that stretch out into a distance obscured by heat haze. I find the whole area a thought-provoking totem of our impact on this planet. And yet, here among the Blade Runner-grade grimness, nature is happy to make a home.<br />
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This is testament to the fact that, despite initial appearances, the whole area is vastly less polluted than it was throughout the majority of the last century. The population of approximately 100 Harbour and Grey seals that call this home is still well down on pre-industrial levels, but happily well up from the more or less zero that was their nadir. We visited at a fairly high tide and took the ten minute walk from the carpark (TS2 1FB in your satnav, then look for the car park just south of the bridge over Greatham creek) to the handily placed hide.<br />
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Having gotten (quite pricey) boats <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/lovely-things-to-do-1-get-boat-to-farne.html" target="_blank">out to the Farne Islands to see them in the past</a>, it felt all the more odd to be able to observe them so close up in this environment, for nowt. My camera doesn't have a zoom lens to speak of so you can't really tell from these pics, but you're close enough get a great look as they scoot around in the shallows, slither over the mud or just sunbathe. A decent set of binoculars and you've got a superb view of them, including those characterful faces that make them so entertaining to observe. These were, I think, nearly all the smaller harbour seal rather than the larger grey.<br />
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And yet it isn't just seals that bring naturalists here. The fact that the land land between the various facilities is left, ironically, to its own devices, means that various species of flora and fauna do well here. As we walked to a sea facing hide, we noticed that the abandoned road we were on, between where the weeds had begun to reclaim it, was festooned with fragments of seashell. I'm guessing seabirds must use its surface to crack them open, the clever buggers.<br />
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We saw redshanks, lapwings and various other waders and seabirds whose names I would have probably known when I was about 11, had memory for such things and was member of the YOC. There was also a really interesting range of plant life and a whole host of vibrantly coloured and unfamiliar butterflies, none of whom would sit still long enough for me to get a picture, so you'll just have to imagine them.<br />
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We walked as far as it seemed that we could, out to a hide that looked over the Seaton on Tees channel. Every now and then a hooter would blast or an announcement could be heard from one of the distant facilities, puncturing the otherwise still afternoon. I felt like I had unlocked a hidden "nature-watching" level in Half Life 2. Weird, but great.<br />
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If you're really into birds, RSPB Saltholme is just minutes away to the south. We plan on returning there when it isn't the school holidays and when it isn't the middle of the afternoon- the place was rammed. Unlike Seal Sands, most of which we had to ourselves, which only served to accentuate the post-apocalyptic feel of it all. If you want to know what nature spotting would feel like in a grim future in which humanity has all been wiped out, this will get you close to it. Highly recommended.<br />
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<b>Lovely thing to do rating: </b>I'm going for <b>9/10</b>. Would've probably been a ten if we'd seen any cool birds of prey. Coming here really made me want to get a camera with a cool zoom on it too. <b>Pro-tip</b>: bring a bit of a picnic, and a morning or afternoon's entertainment is yours for absolutely free. No charge even for the car park.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-86229947858674625272016-08-24T22:48:00.001+01:002016-08-24T23:07:15.399+01:00Restaurant Review: The Ritz Restaurant, Mayfair, London<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Deciding where to eat for a bit of a blow-out treat when down in that London is a very pleasant, if not easily resolved problem. On prior trips down we've enjoyed meals at <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/restaurant-review-square-mayfair-london.html" target="_blank">The Square</a>, <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/restaurant-review-alyn-williams-at.html" target="_blank">Alyn Williams</a> and (best of the lot) <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/restaurant-review-ledbury-notting-hill.html" target="_blank">The Ledbury</a>. Although it needn't have to, high-end cooking does tend to come with a side order of plushness which, as a temporary counterpoint to the decidedly quotidian thrum of the daily grind, is very nice, thanks. Knowing a bit more about food than the dark arts of interior design or architecture (which isn't hard, as I know nothing about either), where we eat is about food first, with the comfy seats and thick carpets being a happy coincidence. With The Ritz it was, for once, the other way round. What would it even be like to eat lunch in <i>that</i> room? I had read enough glowing reviews of the classical cooking overseen by South Shields native John Williams MBE to think that it would be be worth finding out. So we did!<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Entering the Hotel from Arlington Street you have to walk the breadth of the place in order to get to the restaurant, which faces out in the direction of Green Park. Kasia and I found ourselves proceeding at an unusually stately pace, probably because there's just so much <i>stuff</i> to catch the eye. There's an awful lot of gold leaf, marble and Union Jack in there. I imagine this explains why you tend not to see the Queen ever dashing around; she's got too many baubles to distract her. As we passed it, the main lounge was heavy with scone-munchers and tea-slurpers. None of that for us: Escoffier himself was ill at ease with the idea of afternoon tea and I think I'm with him. A good and thorough lunch though? Yes please, much better.<br />
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We got sat at a pretty decent table which afforded a view right down the room. And what a bloody room! For those among us not accustomed to eating under frescoes, surrounded by endless gold leaf and stinking great marble columns, it takes a minute or two to get your bearings, during which time I advise you to play it cool by not gawping all over the place. I think I just about styled it out. Amusingly, Kasia and I were not alone for lunch, being parked right next to a ruddy vast gold statue. Our new friends were agreeable enough.<br />
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Having considered going for the full bollocks tasting at £95, we decided to rein in our ambitions and ate from the set lunch menu, which comes in at £49. There were three choices per course. There is also an extensive à la carte with starters at £18-35 and mains at £40-49, which makes both the tasting and set menus look like a relative bargain...<br />
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Melba bloody toast- my old nemesis, returned! In a previous life I worked at a Scottish Country House Hotel where I toiled away making endless amounts of this stuff. By all accounts I owe this drudgerous experience to an Australian Opera singer who went by the name of Dame Nellie Melba, for whom Escoffier created this "dish" in 1897. She was ill and this was all she could eat. I'd have gotten better sharpish if this was all I could eat too. Escoffier must have been boffing her or something, as her name was also bestowed upon that famed peach dessert. Enough history, back to our actual meal, and a further choice of superb warmed bread was offered. Walnut and something or other for me. Wonderful French butter too. I tried to pass the salt dish (two types- flaked and fine) to Kasia and, comically, nearly wasn't able to. Like just about everything else on the table, solid silver innit.<br />
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Just like this cute little tray on which the amuses arrived. That cylinder in the middle is coronation chicken wrapped in a sugar tuile and it was bloody amazing. The perfectly made macaron was flavoured with startlingly bright-tasting lemon and filled with a rich salmon mousse. The goat cheese biscuit thing on the left was the least impressive, but it was in exalted company, so no disgrace there.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terrine of goose liver, mango, gingerbread and tonka bean</td></tr>
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My starter of goose liver (wonder why it's not listed on the menu as foie gras...) was pleasingly geometric in its construction and tasted pretty great too. Great rich, buttery flavour in the terrine, with just a smidge of livery funk. Foie gras goes pretty great with just about anything sweet, so mango and gingerbread were well at home on this plate, and gave it a nice tropical twist. Shall we be picky? Ok then, let's: the terrine could have been a touch more malleable, and I ended up eating the gingerbread bit with my fingers, scared that attempting to attack it with knife and fork would send the overly substantial cuboid flying in the general direction of a soon-to-be-irate rich person who would have me thrown out or something.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pea Royale, summer vegetables and flowers</td></tr>
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Kasia's starter was, just like her (she'll be reading this you see), stupendously pretty. A disc of vibrant pea mousse which fairly hummed of summer was adorned by what looked like a fairy's back garden of pre-pubescent shoots and flowers. Some really nice truffle puree gave the whole thing depth. I thought the green dots were a nice touch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saddle of lamb Belle Epoque</td></tr>
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My main course was accurately named: the period of time during which I ate it was, for me at least, a very beautiful era indeed. I had ordered it as it sounded like exactly the kind of thing, full of sheer classical technique and premium ingredients, that you're not going to see offered on many other menus. If you're interested to see how it's made, have a look at Mr Williams himself prepare it in this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WparnJmlMpA" target="_blank">vid</a>. It was seasoned to within an inch of its life (ie, perfectly) and basically tasted like the most amazing roast dinner ever. The sautéed mushrooms and onions were wonderfully cooked, and the puréed potatoes that sat under the lamb were pure velvet, made with as much cream and butter as actual potato judging by their richness. The gravy was of the type that produces involuntary noises of happiness in the eater. Altogether one of the richest, most decadent plates of food you could wish for. Brilliant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black leg chicken, celeriac, girolle and Supreme Sauce</td></tr>
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By comparison Kasia's chicken was rather more sedate, but still very enjoyable. The celeriac purée had uncanny depth of flavour, although it would have been nice to see a bit more of it. The chicken itself had thumping good flavour for breast and the sauce was very pleasant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackberry soufflé, crumble and yoghurt sorbet</td></tr>
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Pick of the puds was this textbook soufflé that Kasia plumped for. The texture throughout was eerily light, and the flavour of blackberry was just strong enough. The ramekin had been greased with beurre noisette which is an excellent idea and the yoghurt sorbet tasted refreshingly clean.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheery mousseline, kirsch and almond</td></tr>
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My cherry thingy looked the business but didn't quite deliver on flavour. Bit more boozy thwack would have sorted it out. I could see my face in that pink orb thing, which was an unpleasant shock.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Petit fours</td></tr>
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Petit fours were, predictably for a kitchen churning out as many first rate afternoon teas as this one, superb. The jellies of (I think) mandarin displayed a perfect balance of sweetness and citrus zing, while the white chocolate macarons were every bit as good as the Pierre Hermé ones you can get in Selfridges. Great salted caramel chocolates too.<br />
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And that was that. A little over two hours and £170 after having sat down, we were spat back out into the normal world of noise, tourists and sweaty-pitted tube rides. Some concluding thoughts:<br />
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This restaurant is by no means a museum or a tourist trap. The quality of the ingredients here and the skill of the team who are charged with cooking them are of the first order. There were things that could've been better, but when it was good (the lamb, the soufflé), by Christ it was good. Wine sure wasn't cheap. The modest end of the list kicks off at £50 per bottle, or £15 per glass. I did have a very enjoyable Riesling with the foie, and a superb Aussie sweet Gewurztraminer with dessert. I might have liked a glass of something red with the lamb which takes me onto the only duff bit of the experience.<br />
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Although there were reims of them, and they looked jolly fetching in the ties and tails, catching a waiter wasn't always easy. Further, there was a strict Fordist division of labour between the drinks guys and the food guys. I'd been sat with a wine list for a bit when I flagged down a passing waiter. He wouldn't take my order and pass it on, but instead asked the sommelier over, which seemed a bit daft and meant I was left with it for a bit longer. Everyone appeared to be working their collective arse off; I wonder if they were a man or two down for whatever reason.<br />
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All said and done I'm really glad we went. It was interesting to see this kind of classical Grand French Cuisine, albeit with some modernist touches here and there, being done. Very little tweezering of micro herbs going on here, with the focus being more on tried and true techniques, some of which haven't changed that much since the time of the famous French bloke who opened these kitchens in the first place, and others having gently evolved over time. It was nice to have to get a bit dressed for lunch as well (jackets and ties are insisted upon for the chaps).<br />
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If nothing else then I'm sure that this is, and will remain for the rest of my days, the poshest meal I ever eat cooked by someone from South Shields!<br />
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<b>8/10</b><br />
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<b>The Ritz, 150 Piccadilly, London, W1J 9BR</b><br />
<b>020 7493 8181</b><br />
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<b><a href="https://www.theritzlondon.com/" target="_blank">Website</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/theritzlondon" target="_blank">Twitter</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/theritzlondon" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b>Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-52840697721502077532016-08-20T17:08:00.000+01:002016-08-20T18:45:37.067+01:00Restaurant Review: Marmelo Kitchen, Leyton, London<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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London! Brilliant, isn't it? Well, I think so anyhow, at least in compact doses. London is a bit like Gentleman's Relish; a little really does go a long way. Catching up with friends who travelled south years ago and went native; getting your fix of the shit-hot cultural offering that you pay for in tax but don't normally get the chance to enjoy; and, of course, peering in at what's happening in the world of London food. All of this, at least for a few days, is surely worth the inconvenience of having your bogeys go black with pollution and the shock of paying six quid for a pint of underwhelming beer.<br />
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We're just back from our Nation's capital, having had a quite cracking time. We spent an afternoon at Kew, which was great and shall feature, if I am spared, in a future "<a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Lovely%20things%20to%20do" target="_blank">Lovely things to do</a>" post. Food-wise, we reduced my "really want to go here" list (Bonhams, The Dairy, Hedone, Clove Club- some other time, yeah?) by one, splurging on a ridiculously lavish lunch at The Ritz. Stay tuned for more on that. However, what makes London's food scene so jealousy-inducing isn't just the big hitters, but the quality that can be found at the more informal end of things. Such as at Marmelo Kitchen, out east in Leyton.<br />
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The story here is that of Natalie Stopford who, while working in the film industry started making and selling preserves, which clearly went well enough for her to decide to continue her adventures in food. Hence, Marmelo Kitchen, which opened in December 2014 and, importantly, is within walking distance of the friends with whom we were staying. After a long day of ogling plants at Kew, we were primed and ready to eat.<br />
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The daily changing chalkboarded menu of small plates is one of those tastefully short affairs from which, if you've brought friends, you can just about order the whole damn thing. Eat your heart out Mr Creosote. We ploughed through 11 of the 14 dishes on offer.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sauteed snow peas & green beans, tarragon, red onion, lemon and horseradish creme fraiche</td></tr>
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Things arrived as they were ready which can be a bloody annoyance at times, but worked well here. Decent bruschetta performed its role as a vehicle for a perky tapenade with aplomb, while a plate of peas and beans, enlivened by the addition of tarragon, were served with a really lovely horseradish crème frâiche.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charred leeks, poached egg, hollandaise, tapenade</td></tr>
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An excellent hollandaise was draped over a poached egg which in turn perched on some deliciously blackened grilled leeks. This really is one of the finer ways to treat this lengthy allium. Minus a mark for a not quite oozy egg yolk.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baked aubergine with pommodoro & bocconcini</td></tr>
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I'm coming to the conclusion, having tried a few belters in <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/a-very-late-postcard-from-campania-pt.html" target="_blank">Naples</a>, and since at <a href="http://patchygrowth.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/a-lunch-to-end-all-lunches-cals-own.html" target="_blank">Cal's Own</a>, that the mark of a truly superb tomato sauce is that it reminds you a bit of the one you get in tinned Heinz Spaghetti Hoops. No, really. There must be something about using tomatoes at the absolute height of their powers which generates a level of sweetness sufficient to conjure that particular taste-memory. The baked aubergine at Marmelo was bathed in just such a potion. Deep fried balls of (unpictured) mozzarella were great.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Braised beef brisket in red wine, celeriac remoulade</td></tr>
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I really enjoyed the simple integrity of a hunk of braised brisket, which was served as a whole tangle of muscle rather than shreds or cubes. The accompanying remoulade successfully managed to be neither too creamy nor too sharp, the amount of mustard and lemon juice just so.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pea & mint arrancini, harissa yoghurt</td></tr>
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The last few savoury dishes confirmed what those to date had suggested- the cooks here have got good taste and solid technique in abundance. A piece of curry-crusted cod was cooked just about perfectly, the flakes relinquishing eachother's company under the merest weight. Perhaps my two favourites of the night came from the deep fryer. Crisp-crumbed arrancini were bursting with summery pea flavour and correctly cooked risotto rice.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tempura squid and broccoli, ginger, coriander and soy</td></tr>
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Meanwhile, the tempura squid and broccoli was notable just for actually being the thing it claimed to be. Tempura batter should barely clothe the stuff it obscures, yet all too often it comes as a grim and clumsy overcoat. Marmelo do an <i>excellent</i> tempura. The squid was bang-fresh too. This was as triumphant as so many also-ran versions of this dish are a disaster.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate brownie with ice cream</td></tr>
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Brownies were decent, while a pannacota featuring basil was an opinion-splitter. I liked the almost mentholly herby thwack of it, while others did not. We could agree that the thing was well made, just as we could that pomegranate molasses had no business being on this plate. Puddings need to be about comfort, not shocking tartness. I was reminded of the "Esther Rantzen" cocktail from the chess episode of Bottom, which isn't really a positive.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vanilla & basil pannacota</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheese</td></tr>
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Cheeses were good, especially a nice bit of aged Comté although not helped by being fridge-cold.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booze etc</td></tr>
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The wine list was full of "low intervention" intrigue. We shared a nice bottle of gamay, before I tried a glass of tempranillo. All good stuff.<br />
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Other things- despite the not especially comfy seating, this is a very comfy place to spend a couple of hours over dinner. The interior is all bare wood, whitewash and tile, and makes for a really nice intimate atmosphere. Staff were friendly. Bonus point for having Aesop hand-wash in the loo. I love the smell of that stuff but can never bring myself to drop twenty seven quid on it when the gear in the Poundshop does the job too.<br />
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If you live round Leyton way (Hi Bill and Charlene!) then you can count yourselves lucky to have such an excellent proper neighbourhood restaurant. For the rest of us, places like this that serve an eclectic variety of interesting dishes, skillfully produced from good raw materials are the exact thing we'd like to see more near where we live. Restaurateurs take note.<br />
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<b>8/10</b><br />
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<b>Marmelo Kitchen, 169 Francis Road, London, E10 6NT</b><br />
<b>020 3620 7580</b><br />
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<b><a href="http://www.marmelokitchen.com/" target="_blank">Website</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/marmelo_kitchen" target="_blank">Twitter</a></b><br />
<b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/MarmeloKitchen/?ref=br_rs&pnref=lhc" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b><br />
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Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995579066328855450.post-85179991372315441692016-08-07T17:36:00.001+01:002016-08-07T17:42:16.670+01:00Lovely things to do #2: Go for a walk up to Simonside<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of the happier facts about living in Newcastle is how quickly you can get somewhere lovely and interesting by heading out of town in all four directions. To the west, Hadrian's Wall, Sycamore Gap and Kielder. To the east, Tynemouth and the coast. Durham is to the south (as is Sunderland, but hey, every rule needs an exception). Perhaps the finest rural treasures however lie in the direction of the big point on the compass. We're intimately familiar with the pristine coast that leads up towards the border, but the walk up to <a href="https://www.google.co.uk/maps/place/Simonside/@55.2858955,-1.9610096,15z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x487de55b8d030ddb:0x76a22207ff7d43b4!8m2!3d55.2825411!4d-1.9636596" target="_blank">Simonside</a>, just south of Rothbury was somewhere we had neglected, until recently, and is the subject of today's lovely thing to do. Prepare to be lovelied!<br />
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We tried to do the walk years ago during winter, but the elements were against us; sheets of snow came down just as we emerged from the treeline making things a touch treacherous for comfort. At this time, things are considerably more favourable.<br />
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Access is dead easy- from Newcastle, head towards Rothbury and then to the free (keep those forests in public ownership, people) Forestry Commission Simonside car park. NE65 7NW in your sat nav will get you there. There are a couple of short walks signposted from the car park, but we wanted to get up to the crag. The route that gets you there and back is a loop of four and half miles.<br />
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The first chunk of it takes you through some lovely peaceful mixed species woodland. We spotted a red squirrel, great spotted woodpeckers and a woodcock as well as a bunch of less noteworthy nature. Just as you're getting warmed up the trees thin out as you hit an area which has been clear-felled and you get your first look at the majestic crags in whose direction you are headed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onwards and upwards</td></tr>
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The views start to get really good. We stopped for a brew from the flask and took it in. At this point we started to hear some weird noises which sounded a bit like an irritable Jack Russell.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yum</td></tr>
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It turned out these were being made by the local population of Grouse, who were clearly unhappy that we were trespassing on their heathery scrub. Grouse is one of my favourite things to eat. Lucky for these guys the season hadn't started yet.<br />
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The steepest section is the 10 minutes or so which takes you right up to the crags themselves. You can convince yourself you're in a fantasy novel at this point, questing across the landscape. Until a luminously gore-texed hiker comes in the other direction and spoils the illusion.<br />
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From the top the views, at least on a clear day like the one we did it on, are truly first rate. It's an excellent spot from which to get a sense of the topography of the whole region. You can see the Cheviots, out to the coast, south back towards Newcastle and across to Kielder. We put a couple of stones on the cairn at the very top, and ate some sandwiches, legs swinging off the edge of a cliff as the grouse zoomed grumpily around below us.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I struck a pose and the light went a bit weird...</td></tr>
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From the crags themselves, the path takes you through heathery moorland which bore the marks of having been recently burned, until you descend back down into the vivid greens of the forest.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Burnout</td></tr>
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At a total cost of zero pounds (not including petrol money and sarnie tax, obvs) this is just a sensational way to spend a chunk of your weekend, or any other time you might happen to have spare (teachers, I'm looking at you). The walk is long enough to feel rewarding but short enough to be well doable for even the more out-of-shape among us. Get on it!<br />
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<b>Lovely thing to do rating: </b>Got to be a <b>10/10</b>. Notwithstanding the fact that we got a bit lucky with the weather, you'll get to feel good about yourself and (assuming you're from round these parts) reminded of how beautiful the region you've called home is. How much lovelier can you get than that? <b>Pro-tip</b>: defo bring a flask of strong tea and some good sandwiches.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606029898571396802noreply@blogger.com2