Perilla - Platform 1, East Dulwich

I have no illusions in saying that I am not the most typical/average/normal person in the world. I might even go so far as to say that I am positively strange in parts, but occasionally I am confronted with an approach that confuses, challenges or surprises even me. Hopefully, all at the same time. Such is the case with the latest buzz word to be thrown around the national press, food blogs, celeb endorsements and the such like. Clean eating is being called a trend (definitely not a diet) and has come to be popularised by eating small dishes that are 'good for you'  as well as being focussed on flavour.

So eating less food overall but more fresh fruit and veg than anything else. To be fair, I'm not sure we can call that a trend; Mr Motivator was saying it twenty years ago.

So why has this diet alleged trend confused, challenged and surprised me this time around? There doesn't seem to be much to confuse anyone in that approach does there? To answer the question, we must turn to Perilla on a lovely Saturday night where Mrs P, The Child and I were delighted to be joined by the Sister-in-law for dinner over our annual Christmas weekender. The s-i-l had enjoyed Perilla only a few weekends before and was so taken with it that she booked us a table before she had even finished her own meal! Under such a powerful recommendation, how could we go anywhere else?!

As is the nature of any pop-up restaurant the menu is under constant development with tweaks and changes happening on a very tight turnaround but from what we could see, Perilla clearly knew what they wanted to do and given the pedigree of the people behind the place you can see why. Ben Marks (formally of NOMA and The Square) and Matt Emmerson (manager of both Polpo and Polpetto) have serious credentials and when I say that Head Chef Ben is only 23 then you'll be forgiven for reviewing your own achievements and finding them somewhat lacking. The principle behind Perilla is described as informal fine dining. Certainly the venue at Platform 1 is anything but formal, the atmosphere is relaxed, the music is loud and dress code is non-existent. The bar has a great range of vino as well as cocktails often with housemade ingredients which more often than not come from the edible garden terrace out the back. So far, so 'modern Britain', I thought it was great.

So we know where they are, we know who they are and they know that they are good at what they do, but what is it exactly that they did do? First the flat bread with brown butter, served with a rosemary 'brush'. This was lovely, the s-i-l assured us that they were 'better last time' which would only convince me further that it was bloody brilliant.

We then moved on to 'Crisp Chicken Wing Stuffed with Mushroom', which at £1.50 seemed like an absolute bargain, so we ordered three. And then these arrived.

Suddenly 'bargain' wasn't quite the word I would use. Now don't get me wrong, they were crispy, chicken-y and absolutely delicious (although I'm not sure how much mushroom could have been stuffed into the 15mm by 15mm sandwich) but man alive, the value is certainly questionable*. Then we moved on to the starters and as there were three, we ordered... three.

First the cauliflower which was cooked effortlessly, beautifully and stylishly. The sauce was creamy, glossy and the cauliflower was treated with such skill as to demand the oohs and aahs that it elicited from those around the table. Top notch curding too and I don't like curd.

Then the duck egg with mussels was as green as the cauliflower was beige. The mussels were Michelin-ised by some very fine chopping and probably placed with tweezers or quinelled around one of the freshest duck eggs that has passed my lips. The green sauce was phenomenal and the whole bowl was rich with the adulterously thick yolk mingling with the salty mussel and the distinctive lovage. This was far and away my favourite of the lot.

Then there was the lettuce. Until now, grilled lettuce has for me, been the preserve of destined to fail Masterchef contestants and amusing anecdotes from other foodie friends. "Do you remember when we put the baby gem under the grill? Hahahaha, what were we thinking" etc etc. Now though, having tried the above bowl I can totally get it. Perhaps it was the cheese sauce, or maybe I had previously missed the point as it was, after all, still just various kinds of slightly burnt lettuce. To be honest, I don't really care because tasted absolutely cracking**.

Then came, what was described as the mains: mackerel, pork chop and the beans, again we ordered all three, but so engrossed with the conversation that I'm afraid you are left with only the following shot:

Beans in the foreground, then the sharing mackerel and finally the pork at the back. All were cooked magnificently with particular mention going to the perfectly cooked mackerel for being boned whole with the head still on when it came to the table. An absolute masterclass if ever I've seen one. The beans were creamy, well seasoned and happily layered under another scattering of greeny leaves and the pork with green sauce had been clearly selected for it's delicate proportions but what was there tasted very good indeed.

Puds were similarly expressed with a restrained cheese and toast number:

Which provided a brilliant balance of the salty, melty, cheesiness we needed along with those islands of honeyed grapes which were such a clever idea that I may even try to do it myself. 

We also had the poached pear which came in yet another green sauce and blended soft pear with tart, cooling creme fraiche and various herbage to give a very accomplished yet ultimately unimaginative dish. I'm afraid I just don't like the herb and pear combo, but that said, the others on the table were very complimentary.

The menu, on paper, was to feed three adults and The Child and certainly the s-i-l woke up the following day and decided against breakfast being as she was, still full from the night before. However, speaking for myself any meal that I finish being more hungry than when I started has some questions to answer. Despite fulfilling the Clean Eating brief, we were crying out for some kind of potato to help bolster the meal and the portion size simply wasn't going to cut it so we jumped at the chance after the meal when we were lucky enough to meet Ben and ask him about his style; he was really friendly and chatty as well as forthcoming in his skinny jeans, fitted t-shirt and fashionable haircut about the fact that he 'doesn't really like carbs'. Well, no kidding my disgustingly talented friend. 

Perhaps Clean Eating is for young Londoners who are already slim and maybe my dinner at Perilla is forcing me to admit that's just not me any more***, but I have no doubt at all that this team are well on course for Michelin stardom. Everything we ate here was executed incredibly well and bursting with freshness and the chefs absolute dedication to his craft. These dishes certainly have their place as part of a multiple tasting menu (with added potato please) and when considered against that Michelin star this menu absolutely represents value. But they don't have that star yet and so charging £1.50 for what is effectively a vol-au-vaunt (albeit a very nice one), is difficult to justify for those of use who live outside of the magical M25 circumference of expensification. 

So with all that being said, a total bill of £180 for three adults, a child and a very good bottle of wine is not extortionate by London standards, so I continue to count my lucky stars that my family live so close to so many different (and delicious) experiences. This may not be my favourite type of food but my God, this kid knows how to cook.




*that was the confusing bit.
**I was suitably surprised.
***now that's a challenge if ever I heard one.

Stew - the Corketts house

I never cook with dates, not because I don’t like them, but because I find them quite a one trick pony. I find that it’s difficult to use a date in any way other than as a cloying sweetener but then I was invited to a pre-christmas dinner party recently where a Middle Eastern inspired stew filled with dates, apricots and a variety of herbs and spices blended to a amazingly exotic cloud that bubbled away slowly in the corner. At first, I pretended not to notice but as the evening drew on and I got hungrier and hungrier I couldn’t hold myself back.

I hung around the stove looking longingly at the depths wondering if anyone would notice if I stuck a bit of bread or spare finger in to try it but I wasn’t left alone for long enough to find out. Instead I had to wait like everyone else, I mean seriously didn’t they know who I was…????!!!!

But worth the wait it was, deep, rich and moreish. I ran out of adjectives in the second mouthful and collapsed into simple grunts, moans and sighs. In my humble opinion, there is very little better than a stew lovingly prepared with time and thought to make the most out of the most humble of ingredients. That being said, there wasn’t much humble here; bobbing about in it’s bath of tomato, apricots, spices and those aforementioned dates, were huge chunks of beef fillet. Lamb, pork, rabbit or beef, I don’t care because I love a good stew. Beautifully soft and velvety, the gravy swirled around in thick whirlpools thanks in no small part to the use of those dates. Pockets of sweet fruitiness amid the savoury juices worked in amazing concert to bring what could have been a mere average dish alive. This was no restaurant dish, but instead it was something more. A hearty pan of sharing, conversation, laughter and meat which is the best way to eat pretty much anything in my opinion. 

The use of beef fillet was a little flamboyant for a stew perhaps, our host modestly conceded, but everyone around the table appreciated the extra effort as we consumed spoon after spoon of the softest, beefiest beef I’ve had for ages. And consume we did. That enormous vat fed nine of us with no left overs. But, when it came time to swap recipes as we chatted away the evening over the top of our fully satisfied bellies, our host suddenly became frustratingly tight lipped. Therefore and with no small amount of disappointment, I have no recipe for you all today, perhaps I can persuade them to give me a hint whilst enjoying a later date*.

*You see what I did there? Date the fruit and date the... date. I know, I amaze myself sometimes too.

The Hanoi Bike Shop (again) - Glasgow

I believe that I have, in the past, made it clear that I am a fan of The Hanoi Bike Shop. As such I’m not going to re-hash the great ambience, the amazing smells or the clean fresh flavours… OK so I might mention those flavours again, instead, I'll start this re-review with a recount of an absolutely true conversation that I heard from a couple on the table next door*:

Her: Ooh Jeremy, try this.

Him: Mmm, lovely.

Her: Jeremy, ooh that one, that’s lovely.

Him: Yes, lovely.

Her: Wow, Jeremy. Have some of this, it’s lovely.

Him: Delicious.

Her: Delicious Jeremy. You’re right, delicious.

Him: Delicious.

Classic.

  

Let's start this off by essentially showing you what a Vietnamese food coma looks like; starting off with prawn crackers with creamy peanut dip. Mmmmm, creamy peanuts.

Vietnamese BBQ Chicken with chilli and lemongrass oil. Smokey, soft and charred chicken with wilted greens smothered in garlic and fish sauce. This dish was, like the whole meal, beautifully balanced and a joy to eat. A jar of pickled veg (cauliflower cucumber and water chestnut) also turned up at this point and with a light, sweet freshness, it was a perfect accompaniment to the chicken. 

Spicy beef and belly pork with rice noodles and an incredible beefy broth as well as another load of greens in even more garlic (I was on my own for the evening which is probably for the best) came out last. The flat rice noodles were as soft and slippery as the beef and pork which was, quite frankly, a-maz-ing. The beef bone stock was frighteningly deep and although I wouldn’t necessarily agree with the ‘spicy’ pre-fix that the name suggests, it did come with additional chilli, coriander and thai basil to add as you wished. Which I did.

The menu recommends 3 to 4 dishes along with a couple of sides to share between two people. I had half of this and as you can see, it amounts to what I would like to describe as an absurd amount of food for one person. I did my damnedest but couldn’t quite finish the job. While I comfortably enjoyed my dinner settling in my tummy in the few moments at the end of my meal, I pondered on why I like this place so much. The atmosphere, the staff, the food? Yes, of course to all of those but more than that, I decided it was the little details that made this a go-to dinner destination for me when in the area. The home-made fish sauce on the table in a reused mineral water bottle, tastes as savage as it smells but sprinkle it (lightly) on a bowl of Pho and it transforms into the most magical of seasonings that brings flavours that you never thought possible to your lips. Similarly, the jars of chilli and lemongrass oil placed so innocently next to the chopsticks, invite you to stir and dash your bowl liberally. However, do so at your peril because behind the wonderfully fragrant citrus lies a punch that will keep you glowing for a couple of hours if you’re not too careful.

In short, I pretty much like everything about The Hanoi Bike Shop. I have no idea if the chef is authentically Vietnamese, classically French or anything inbetween. I don’t know if this will be the start of a chain that sucks the soul from the original, I’ve not even got anything to compare it to because I certainly don’t have the experience of what eating in Vietnam is like. What I do know is that if I’m ever lucky enough to have the opportunity to learn, I want it to be like this.

http://hanoibikeshop.co.uk
@hanoibikeshop

*Names have been changed for legal reasons.

The Smoke Shack - Stony Stratford

There are so many things wrong with British BBQ that I get angry just talking about it, but since you brought it up let's start with the fact that what most of us think of as BBQ isn't actually BBQ at all, it's grilling. It can be delicious, beautiful grilling, but it is grilling nevertheless. BBQ on the other hand is an amazing blend of sweet and savoury, smokey, soft and crusty. Pork, beef, lamb or chicken, they all become something much more when laid in the 'pit and kissed with smoke over the course of the day. 

So shouldn't we have some of that magical witchcraft of cookery in MK? Certainly the Smoke Shack is looking to ride the crest of a UK wave in restaurant quality BBQ cuisine that can only bring a much needed improvement to back garden grills and impromptu Summer parties. Based in Stony Stratford (which along with Wolverton is fast becoming the go-to location for much needed independent restaurants in the immediate area). It certainly looks fantastic, with character bulging out of every nook and cranny (so long as you look past the hilariously ridiculous brick effect wallpaper) and the smell coming from the kitchen is amazing but something just felt... off.

We started with nachos, we seem to be eating a lot of nachos at the moment and these ones were... OK. The guacamole was creamy and mild and the sour cream was as sour and creamy as the name suggested. The sauce was heavy with sugar and the jalapeños were warming and tart with pickle. The nachos themselves were suitably smothered in cheese and the portion size was absolutely fine, so what's the problem? The thing is; was it any better than anything that would come from a supermarket shelf? I'm afraid that I am unconvinced.

Then came the mains, it was a rib fest as Mrs P went for the baby backs and I had the beef long rib (although I'm not even going into the question of how long do long ribs need to be to be considered long?).

Unfortunately, Mrs P's ribs were dry with very little in the way of the deep, mix of flavour I was hoping for. They were chewy but not in a good way and alongside the huge portion of chips the coleslaw was just too mild to be anything short of a small bowlful of crunchy 'meh'. I was expecting something with a bit more oomph to stand up to the meat, but instead, it didn't fulfil anything other than the standard UK restaurant BBQ checklist:

Lots of meat - check
Wooden chopping board instead of a plate - check
Token salad garnish - check
Bottle of overly sweet 'Smokey' BBQ sauce - check
Bowl of coleslaw - check

My beef ribs on the other hand were certainly moist and tender but they just didn't taste of very much. I don't know if they used a rub on the meat before cooking but if so, I would suggest they look to change it. Otherwise my checklist was similarly in place.

We also had a side of the tampura onion rings as they are Mrs P's Achilles heel and they were again, consistently standard but also as much of the meal before it, didn't throw anything crazy at us. To be honest, by the end I was crying out for something to make us go 'wow', 'ooh' or maybe even 'eh'?.

We saw a couple of the puds go past to other tables, and they did look tasty but by then we were happy just to pay up and move on which is perhaps when considering Mrs P's penchant for the sweet stuff the most telling indictment of all. 

The Smoke Shack has a massive fan base, so much so that booking to get in here is certainly recommended. The place was packed out on the Wednesday night that we visited but for me, Smoke Shack is OK and not much more. Go to Bodeans, or look up The Rib Man and you'll see that it is flavour more than presentation that makes for real BBQ.

Big Momma's - Milton Keynes - Part 1

If there is one thing that Milton Keynes needs, it's more spice. Don't get me wrong, Nando's does sterling work and is admirable in it's goal to increase our chilli level a couple of notches. I mean, they must think they are on to something, otherwise why would they open five outlets in a ten square mile radius? So if you think that peri-peri is getting peri-dull* Big Momma has opened up to fill the breach with African flair and flavour.

Newly installed into the Theatre District, Big Momma's is another really welcome addition to the regeneration of the space. I picked up a voucher giving me a 50% discount for booking early which gave me the perfect excuse to take my Momma along to meet Big Momma.

Mum spent three years in Eritrea so knows what's she's talking about when it comes to African cooking and I had high hopes. The venue itself is clearly still rough round the edges but looked very professional with good quality furniture, fittings and a well stocked bar. the atmosphere is intimate and warm and we sat at our table with no complaints.

Moving on to the menu, it is certainly interesting and full of dishes that hints first of the tantalising exotic of mysterious Northern African and moves down through the rainforests of the Zambia, all the way down to the South African cape. So far so good.

The waiter took us through the choices and pointed out that they were missing a few items, which was a bit of a warning sign for a restaurant just a couple of weeks after opening. But lets just put that down to teething problems and move on to start with the pepper soup and the Boerewors Sausage Kebab.

The pepper soup was really good, warm, deep and with a film of meaty oil that coated everything with tasty unhealthiness. We were warned that it was warm and the chilli was definitely present, giving us that lovely punch that heat lovers like us can't get enough of. Bobbing around in this bowl of tomato spiked broth were chunks of goat. Now I love goat, but it needs a good lot of cooking, and I mean a lot of cooking which this goat simply hadn't had. Too tough, too chewy and too much wishful thinking but it was the sausage that really started to confused us.

Admittedly we were paying half price and it was a good beef sausage but four chunks of sausage on a kebab stick for £4? Really? It didn't exactly feel like value for money. 

Mains were another hit and miss affair I'm afraid, with the Pot Jiekos suffering from a real proportion problem. Not enough sauce to rice and certainly not enough meat on those ox tails bones which again had been criminally under cooked. What sauce there was stood up beautifully with rich flavours and although I spotted a couple of carrots, there simply weren't enough vegetables for my european tastes.

The mchuziwa tungule fared slightly better with more sauce and less carbs. The beef was softer than the ox tail but still not tender enough and again with the veg issue. My mum of all people knows that the African diet isn't exactly heavy on the salad front but we were both crying out for a bit of garnish; at least the sausage came with some lettuce. But both dishes we were missing the heat, the oomph of the pepper soup had gone cold and across the menu of main courses we couldn't find the no-holds-barred African attitude we had been looking for. If fact, the more we looked, the more confused we became because taking individual dishes from across such a huge continent has the effect of muddying the bigger picture. It's not North African, it's not South African and it's not anything in between, so what is it?

But then we had to stop philosophising because it was time for pudding.

Homemade white chocolate brownie with vanilla ice-cream. You may ask what a white chocolate brownie is and after tasting one, while I do question the authenticity of calling something a white chocolate brownie when it is clearly a syrup cake, I would urge you to order one for yourself. It was delicious, no if's no buts. Just delicious.

So where does that leave us? Well, to be honest, I'm just not sure. Big Momma's is clearly still quite confused as to who they are. Offering up dishes from all over Africa from the Mediterranean all the way down to Cape Town without a clear identity would always be difficult but mix that with plates that just don't make the most of the ingredients is a real problem. Apart from in the pepper soup, there didn't seem to be any goat left in the kitchen. Which considering it is  the principle form of meat on the African continent and one of the key reasons people would come to an African restaurant (well, that and the spice but we've already covered that) you would hope Big Momma could secure a consistent source before they opened.  

But it's not all bad news. I love the idea of Big Momma's and I think MK is crying out for a bit of African vibe but we're just not there yet. They are bringing in music on a Friday night and that may well start to bring some more attitude to the proceedings but in terms of bang for buck, Big Momma's just doesn't cut it. That being said, Mum has already decided we're going back before Christmas to see if they can push things forward (and she did like that soup) so it looks like we will see more of Big Momma, lets hope it's a good thing.

Come on Big Momma, let's see what you can really do.




*You see what I did there?

Istanbul - Shrewsbury

Sorry? What’s this? I only came in for a dodgy kebab and a quick coke before the Theatre. I seem to have received a Turkish banquet that is epic both in terms of flavour and value, I'm confused.

The Istanbul stands in a row of shops directly opposite the Severn Theatre in Shrewsbury and when Mrs P and I went up there to see my brother in his seminal performance of Shakespeare’s As You Like It (that’s the almost funny one), we needed some quick dinner before the show started so we wandered about 20 feet over the road and bumbled in to the warm, bright interior which although it looked like it was furnished back in 1983 with stock photo’s and faded plastic signs stuck on the walls, the tables were spotless and staff ushered us in with warm smiles and assurances that we’ll get to the show on time. We were sold.

A quick note about the staff, our waitress was lovely, warm and quick with a fantastic sense of humour and we were also waited on by what we assumed to be the owner as she was full of such pride and passion for her dishes that it was it was like walking into her café off a plaza in Turkey. They worked the front of house so well in fact, that we went back for a night cap after the show but more on that later.

First there was the sharing bowls and fresh bread.

Hummus, cacık (Turkish tzatziki), some cous cous, a spicy tomato dip and an aubergine salad were served alongside some fabulously crispy haloumi cheese and that fresh bread. If we believe the owner, everything (except the cheese cake and the ice-cream) is cooked from scratch right there and having seen the start of the meal, you and I have no reason to doubt her. The bread was soft and light, while the dips were distinct and full in terms of both depth and flavour. And then there was the haloumi. Haloumi is one of Mrs P’s not-so secret pleasures. I suspect that Nando’s could well be kept afloat by her single handed obsession with the squeaky cheese and this example was one of the best she’s experienced. Perhaps it was simply because we were so hungry that we liked it so much, or maybe it’s the difference between the not-bad-but-not-great mass market Nando’s offering versus a hand-picked, individually prepared plate of salty, crispy cheesy golden nuggets. Who knows?

But it got better, a sharing platter bedded with soft fluffy rice layered with beautifully moist lamb chunks, then a spiced lamb kofta that was alive with the sort of flavour that can only be extracted from a spice cupboard that has been brought from the Sea Coast without passing through Asda on the way. A portion of fresh salad on the side completed our plated ground works.

Nestled along side that were some chicken wings as well as some harissa chicken breast that were seasoned to within an inch of their delicious lives and were also gone in minutes.  Then, on top of that we had some lamb ribs. These were end of story, hands down, full stop, finish up, get out, hold in, crack off, shut the fridge; the shizz. The. Shizz. The crust on these things held out as deep, spicy and bold with subtle herby and fragrant efforts coming in when you don’t expect them. Just give me a pile of these things to gnaw on like a cave man and I’ll die a happy man.

Good food is all about the experience and experiences don’t get much better than the Istanbul, so much so that after the show, we went back for pudding and Turkish coffee (although I had apple tea which was a new experience for me and bloody amazing). We also had some home-made Baklava which I usually find far too sweet and cloying, but Mrs P assured me that it wasn’t anywhere near as tooth meltingly hideous as those I had sampled before and I should give it a go. True, it was still too sweet for me but the pistachio was a much better balance against the honey than previous efforts I've tried and I liked it much more than I thought I would. We were also treated to some hand made Turkish Delight which were much more like cubes of nougat than the nasty chocolate covered, rose flavoured chemical jelly that we all know over here.

Even the sugar was Turkish! At least, I assume that's Turkish...

I can’t find much to fault in the self-styled Istanbul restaurant steak and BBQ house, and at 100 notes for four of us including drinks, the value is phenomenal. Having never been to Turkey, I have no reference but it's as authentic, real as I can imagine and certainly as far from your local kebab shop as you can possibly get. I probably won’t get the chance to go back there very often but it’s right up there on my list of pocket gems that I will recommend wholeheartedly. I have no idea who or what is going on behind that grill but the people of Shewsbury are lucky to have a kitchen pumping out such seriously tasty grub and if this is what my Brother-in-Law is eating every day then he might have a hard task getting rid of us when we finally get out there to visit next year.