Eurostar - Premium Economy

Premium Economy. Sounds a bit like Scented Turd, doesn't it. A great excuse to charge an additional hundred quid for better seats and a decent snack. Well, I was tempted to pony up and I was glad I did. Travelling to Brussels has limited options and after several internet based comparisons, the Eurostar came out tops and I even managed to persuade the boss to spring for Not-quite-business class-but-a-bit-better-than-standard class.

While breakfast didn't get a picture as I wasn't really compos mentis until 8am, the evening snack got caught as below.

All in all, it wouldn't be anything to write home (or blog?) about, was it not for the contrast with non-scented turd, or the alternative; Easyjet, class. As it is though, the snack is adequate in size and contains some lovely details; the chocolate malteezer thing, the choice of beer (and) or wine, a little pud as well as an additional bread roll (with the choice of seeded or non, no less). The quality of the food is OK if not significantly better than UK public transportation standards and I shall look forward to measuring it up against any other examples I come across.

TCR Bar and Restaurant - London

On the look out for good places to eat as I all too often am, sometimes means that I become a little too indecisive when it comes to choosing a restaurant of an evening. Such it was recently when I had an over night stop in London before an early morning Eurostar train (perhaps the subject of the next post). Wandering down Tottenham Court Road on the search for some spare pants (I had forgotten to pack any for my trip the following day), I was gripped by the desire to find a bar wherein I could order a cold pint of European lager and read a newspaper without being bothered by loud music or the public at large.

A tragic error followed this decision because while incensed with the fervour I describe, I walked past several fabulous looking fronts and wandered, like any fool who doesn't have the advice of his wife on hand to stop him, into T&C's Bar and Restaurant. Seduced as I was with the promise of a nice cold pint of San Miguel, I looked at the menu only after informing the waitress in a strong and confident tone: 'can I open a tab please? I'm ordering food as well.'

A silly error. A silly schoolboy error. A silly schoolboy error compounded by the fact that Mrs. P wasn't there to tell me what a silly schoolboy error it was.

I was committed then as only an Englishman who has said something they regret but cannot possibly be seen to change his mind can be committed. The waitress asked what I wanted to eat and I paused to read the menu again but it was no use; I tried the only option I had left; 'I can't decide, what's good here?' She looked at me blankly as well she might, the menu had clearly indicated that nothing was good here. She glanced around, perhaps hoping to gain inspiration from any nearby diners to convince me of an apparently popular dish. But alas, all other diners were clearly too savvy to order food and they had all stuck solidly to simply drinking their troubles into oblivion.

'The burgers are Ok.' She ventured, 'You should try one of the specials.' The poor girl indicated to the two options in the burger section that were their alledged 'premium' offer. One had the addition of a fried egg, the other bacon. I panicked. 'I'll just have the meaty nachos please.' Why did I say that? WHY? I could have simply made my excuses and left. I could have made no excuses and still left, but instead I ordered nachos. A sharing platter of nachos. For two people. Two. People.

I sat there hating myself until the nachos arrived, then I smiled and thanked the waitress politely before turning with an all consuming bitterness to the manifestation of my English stereotype. They were everything I had dreaded them to be; not enough cheese, not enough chilli beef, not enough jalapeños, not enough guacamole, not enough bloody nachos. This was supposed to be for two people goddammit!! I ate, paid and left quickly in order to be alone with my disappointment. I had filled my belly, but couldn't satify my soul.

If you find yourself in London and the mood takes you, please take this review as a ringing indorsement to visit T&C's, but only for a drink. Unless you fancy some self-flagellation, in which case order the nachos.

www.bartcr.com

The Castle Hotel - Taunton

Remember this?

Well, I finally did it. I broke free of the shackles of late arrival and the cut loose from the ties of apathy. I went out for dinner. Admitedly, I did have a considerable motivation; I had picked up a colleague from the airport before travelling down and quite frankly couldn't suffer apologising for two nights in the hotel bar because I am usually too lazy to drive 20 minutes.

So, this time I did my research, I booked ahead and my foreign companion and I found ourselves wandering into The Castle Hotel on a very barmy late Summer evening. The restaurant in The Castle is called BRAZZ (please note the capitals which sounds like they are trying a little too hard if you ask me) and we were suprised when after walking through the lovely Norman Castle frontage, we entered a very modern, stark, dinning hall complete with fish wall at one end and wierd paintings-that-are-really-just-splodges, which every modernist affectionardo must 'absolutely love dhaaarling'.

As the small talk continued, I kept a wary eye on the menu, it seemed suspiciously tasty and nothing like the previous night. As you know, I try to keep well clear of chips when out on business as too much deep frying is bad for the marriage. However, on this occasion  I decided that if I played safe with my first course I could indulge on the second. Therefore a tomato and basil soup was served up to me with haste. I have to say, this was delicious, deep tomato flavour was drizzled with the perfect basil oil accompaniment. A great success.

It was with a light heart then that I received the board which carried a whole grouse for my main course. I love game, and I don't just mean in the American street sense. Word.

Look at it. I'm remembering eating it right now. The grouse was lovely; strong with game flavour and with plenty of meat on the bird. I suspect it was deep fried, or roasted in lots of terribly unhealthy fat at the very least and the chips were crispy, salted and quite delicious. The toasty bit to the right was like a sloppy pate, I'm sure there is a proper name for it but I just know it as quite nice. The salad was, well, a salad. A salad that was thankfully totally unlike this salad.

So, a solid recommendation for BRAZZ, despite the over-enthusastic capitalisation. If you are in the area, there will be plenty for you to enjoy; the good food, the Norman Castle, the modernist decoration within the Norman Castle (if that's your thing) and the unexpectedly naked ladies in the first floor mens toilet. As I said, plenty to enjoy. 

http://www.the-castle-hotel.com/brazz.php

Dairy Milk with added Daim

I recently found myself buried deep in the isles of Tesco at 11:30pm hunting for a loaf of bread that wasn't stuffed with more additives than Lance Armstrongs urine sample. The funny thing about a supermarket at such an antisocial hour is the antisocial people you find there.

The old bag lady picking up tinned tomatos and cat food, the drunken man looking for a post pub saturated fat fix or the young couple with baby hoisted between them. They all paled into insignificance however, when I turned the corner to see what reductions I could pick through at the end of the day and came face to face with.... a six year old child. Now, my daughter is six but at 11:30, she has already been in bed for (quickly counting on my fingers), four and a half hours. I do NOT think to myself, 'I know, I need to pop out so I'll wake up my child, get her dressed, put her in the car, drive her to the shops and let her run through the store while I saunter along picking up the totally random item that I simply couldn't wait until morning for.'

Cheese and rice, there are some crazy, crazy people out there.

Aaanyway. The point is, that before I left, I thought to myself, I'll bring Mrs P. back a little something and there is no little something that she appreciates more than a bar of Dairy Milk. Every now and then I scour the shelves for a new treat that will get me in the good books. Since the Kraft introduction, we're getting a few new flavours as they try to find their feet and so it was with the mix of Daim with the original.

Now, I do like a good bit of Daim but here in lies the issue. By chopping up the crunchy, nutty caramelly bar they lose a bit of what I liked best about it. I wanted a good bit of Daim to melt in the mouth and crunch on the crunchy bits but what I got was more like Daim dust. It just stuck in the teeth and felt too granular. Not one to make it to the regular shopping list. Sorry Cadbury, C+, OK but should try harder.

The Great Recipe Book Challenge of 2013 - July

You have got to be kidding me. Why on earth do I have two cupcake recipe books? Seriously? Two?? Oh well, take it like a man and move on.

The recipe was actually really tasty with plenty to recommend it. the proportions were much better than the last lot but I don't have any mini cupcake tins (who has mini cupcake tins? [who has two frigging cupcake recipe books?? I don't even like cupcakes very much!]).

Anyway, cook them - they're lovely.

Once again we have the pain of American measurements. Have fun.

1/3 cup butter

1/2 cup caster sugar

1 egg

1 cup self raising flour, sifted

1/3 cup milk

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup fresh raspberries, crushed

Topping

1/3 cup butter

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup icing sugar

Fresh raspberries

Preheat the oven to 160. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

Add the egg and mix.

Add the flour, milk and vanilla mix again - stir through the raspberries.

Bake for 10/15 minutes.

Mix the topping and add with a raspberry to complete.

Bank - Birmingham

I try to avoid Birmingham as much as possible, while there is nothing inherently wrong with the people or the place itself, we usually tend to keep a mutual and respectful distance from each other. It's best that way.

On occasion, however, our paths cross and so it was that I found myself having left the Sealife centre with Mrs P. and the Child looking for lunch. My heart sank. Would I have to settle for a limp 'Pret-a-Manger', or perhaps I would be forced into a dirty burger? Thankfully no, after a cursive reposte or two, Mrs P. agreed to try Bank instead.

Standing opposit the Sealife centre, it was a large place, on the ground floor of a bigger building. Mostly white, minimalist walls and decor allowed the tosseratti of Birmingham to show off their fake tan at it's most violent and we certainly got some side-long glances as Mrs P. and I confidently led the Child to a table on the veranda. Usually, we have no issues with the Child and so it was here, despite the obvious distrust and expectation that we would have a wobbler at some point during the meal (clearly a regular occurance for the children who usually frequent the establishment). We disapointed all those watching as the Child ate her meal with her usual decorum, pausing only to point out that her crab cake was a touch dry. That's my girl.

The offending cake, it looked pretty but didn't have much punch to it. With the coconut, I would have liked a more powerful flavour combo.

Mrs P.'s steak 'n' frites. Plain but tasty - the gloupy sauce was pushed uncerimoniously to one side, but I thought it wasn't too bad.

My mackerel with tomato. Tasty without a hint of chalky, personally I wouldn't have put the tomato in the frame and I probably still have my reservations but to be fair it was quite refreshing.

At a shade over £100 for four (one child) with drinks, it was quite pricey in central Birmingham. But we liked Bank and if necessary, we would enjoy going back. If necessary.

The Great Recipe Book Challenge of 2013 - June

Firstly, bad news. I've not posted here for a long time. This was because:

Secondly: I'm back now.

Baking. It has certainly captured the public imagination at the moment. Of all cookery shows on TV, there seems to be no better way to ensure rating success than to mix flour, sugar and presenters (Mary Berry may be getting on a bit but we all know she's still got it).

And yet. I just can't get to grips with baking, it's one of the very few skills of the kitchen that simultainiously elludes me and yet remains as unexciting as a slap in the face with a wet haddock. Mind you, I love watching all the shows. Oh yes, you cant move me from the sofa now The Great British Bake Off has started, it's essential viewing. But, doing it myself? Nah, I'll leave it to Mrs P. thanks very much.

I know that the majority of professionals are a savory rather than a sweet, which is what makes pastry chefs so sought after, and I would love to buck the trend but my life does not depend on it and I have the ability to choose what I cook. That means I limit the amount of sugar that enters my diet and instead concentrate on salt and fat, much better.

To this end I was relatively happy to be given cupcakes as the next challenge. About as easy as could be achieved and still be classed as baking, it wasn't too stressful. Plus, I could get my always able and willing assistant to help.

In fact, as cupcakes are so difficult to cock-up, I'm not going to bother talking about the recipe too much. The only comments I'm going to make are; the recipe called for an obscene amount of butter, in the interest of keeping my child heart disease free over the age of 9, I reduced the amount by half. Also it claims to make 12 cupcakes. This is a lie, we made 19 and were being generous with our spoonage. Thirdly, they tasted lovely. A little heavy and dense perhaps but nice all the same.

Happy Days.

Marshmallow Vanilla Buttercups

3 eggs
1 cup butter
1 cup caster sugar
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 1/2 cup self raising flour - sifted
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Topping
100g icing sugar
1 cup butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
marshmallow dots

Preheat the oven to 160 - line a cupcake tin.

Beat the eggs, add butter and sugar and mix until light and fluffy.

Add buttermilk, flour and vanilla, stir to combine. beat with an electric mixer until light and creamy.

Bake for 20 minutes.

While cooling, combine half the icing sugar and butter and mix with a wooden spoon. Add the remaining nicing sugar, butter and vanilla abd beat with a spoon.

Dollop on the cakes then add marshmallows.

I'll leave you the joys of converting American cups to something more useful...