Brazil - Rodizio Preto, SW19

Restaurant:  Rodizio Preto

Location:  44 The Broadway, London, SW19 1RQ


Date of visit:  Sunday 2 November 2014


Time of visit:  7pm


Nine years ago Elle and I enjoyed our first long-haul holiday in a far away land, spending two weeks in the north of the Dominican Republic. The hotel had an incredible selection of high quality all-inclusive restaurants, one of which was "Brazilian". We were in our early twenties and had no idea what to expect.

Meat. Lots and lots of meat. Unlimited meat. Followed by even more meat. It made a lasting impression.

Now I realise that kind of restaurant is known as a "rodizio" grill. Meat on skewers. I didn't need any convincing that this was the way to go when we hit Brazil on this project.

We invited two friends, Miles and Jen, to experience this evening with us. After mulling over the fair number of choices in London, we opted for the Wimbledon branch of the small Rodizio Preto chain.

The website does a good job of explaining how the restaurant works. The "si/nao" card is key.

This is your control over proceedings. Hungry? Turn it to the green "si" side. Need some time to digest? "Nao" for now.

Simple. Time to begin. Straight away we knew not to fall into the trap of piling our plates full of the unlimited "salad bar". A really extensive selection too. Salad, lasagne (cold and hard), rice (several types), beans (several types again), chips, nachos and much more. 

Service was very quick. As soon as we sat down, our drinks order was taken, and we were ready to go. Within seconds, the meat began.

Rump steak. Rib meat. Sirloin steak. Garlic steak. Chicken leg (spicy and not spicy), sausage. Lamb. Topside beef. Chicken hearts.

Chicken hearts. Actual chicken hearts. Quite clearly hearts of chickens when you see them speared on the skewer. There was no way I was doing that. Miles did. I can't remember if he was positive in his review of eating the heart of a chicken (an actual chicken's heart) or not. I was too busy trying to ignore the whole thing.

The meats were all really pretty good, and unlimited right enough. The pork, however, was quite dry. The sausage was very hot and fresh. Jen couldn't keep it in her mouth.

Clearly we all pushed our limits. One point we noted was that it wasn't always clear what meat we were being presented with. Sometimes the waiters helpfully mentioned it out loud without being asked. Others either forgot or just didn't want to. Labels on the skewers to identify the meat would have been helpful.

What happened next was clearly a pisstake. We were offered a look at the selection of desserts. As if. Not only that, but they actually lugged a huge plate of *actual* examples of all the desserts, just to help the joke along. I don't believe for a second they actually do desserts. No one could ever manage that.

I weighed myself the next morning. That was a mistake.

Botswana - Home cooking

I actually expected I'd find a restaurant which served food from Botswana in London, even if it was a pan-African restaurant that had a limited number of dishes. So I was surprised to find nothing during my research. So it was back to the kitchen.

When trying to decide what to cook, one dish cropped up again and again, and appeared to be pretty much Botswana's national dish. It also looked like it would be one of the most bland meals I've ever cooked. Seswaa. Mashed meat. With salt. Served with pap. Cornmeal. With salt.

Still, authenticity is the name of the game on this project so that's exactly what I cooked. And it couldn't have been easier.

The meal is literally made up of two main ingredients, as mentioned above. I bought 800g of slow cook casserole beef and a 500g bag of cornmeal (I used 400g of this).

The first step was to add the meat to a large pot of water, bring to the boil, then simmer for four hours. This might seem overkill, but as long as the meat simmers slowly it will make things much easier later on. I found myself topping up with water every 45 minutes or so to keep the meat covered. I also added a teaspoon and a half of salt for flavour.

Forty five minutes before the four hours was up, I started on the pap recipe. I opted for a more South African-influenced version, putu pap, which is supposed to be fairly dry and crumbly.

I boiled 600ml water and a teaspoon of salt in a large pan, then dumped 400g of cornmeal into the water. Without mixing, I placed the lid on top of the pan and let it simmer for five minutes before mixing well and adding a knob of butter. Once mixed, I replaced the lid, turned the heat way down and let it pretty much steam for half an hour. I added a dash of boiling water every now and then to replenish the source of moisture, as it was becoming very dry.

Just before the putu pap was ready, I removed the meat from the water and mashed vigourously with the end of a rolling pin. This was much easier that I thought it would be - the meat was incredibly soft. I then dry fried the shredded meat for a few minutes to remove any extra moisture.

Then it was just a case of serving. I ended up with much more meat than I expected.

On eating, it was incredibly dry, as I expected. The meat was surprisingly salty and really quite tasty. The putu pap was a bland as I expected, if not more so.

We tried to eat it as it was for as long as possible, but I had already cunningly reserved the beef stock to which Elle added Bisto gravy granules. This made it much easier to eat!

All in all, I didn't have high hopes for this meal but it ended up being really quite tasty and very filling. But all the way through, in my head, I was already thinking of the next country...

Bosnia & Herzegovina - Mugi, W5

Restaurant:  Mugi

Location:  15 Station Parade, Uxbridge Road, London, W5 3LD

Date of visit:  Sunday 14 September 2014

Time of visit:  8.30pm

The planning for this one wasn't as straightforward as previous restaurant visits. Firstly we had to find a restaurant that wasn't just Balkan or a former Yugoslav country, but one that was specifically Bosnian. As it happens, Mugi is as Serbian as it is Bosnian but naturally they are almost culturally identical. In the end, enough online sources had this down as a Bosnian restaurant for me to count it as valid. Plus this was in lieu of an alternative anyway.

The next stumbling block was after setting aside some time on the Sunday evening to walk the three miles from our flat to the restuarant - stopping off at many a pub on the way - I discovered just before we left that, according to Google, the restaurant was closed on Sundays. I took that as gospel, but we decided to make the trek anyway and end up at another restaurant in the area.

The hours passed, the half pints were sunk, then we arrived at Station Parade to find - lo and behold - the restaurant was OPEN! Result. In we went.

(DISCLAIMER:  By the time we got there, we had been drinking for hours. The following review is as accurate as the circumstances allow...)

Some people were sitting outside the restaurant on the chairs and tables provided in the street, but indoors it was still fairly quiet. That wasn't to last, however, as it quickly filled during out visit.

Like several previous restaurants we've visited, this one was very much a local cafe for Bosnian ex-pats, as opposed to a restaurant. Actually, it was more like a shop with a cafe. There was a large selection of Balkan produce for sale - fresh and pre-packaged, including many cakes. One thing that wasn't for sale was alcohol. This restaurant is non-licenced. Probably just as well under the circumstances!

On each table there was a menu in both Serbian and English, including their breakfast menu which is clearly intended for wider appeal (as was the selection of filled baguettes listed on the wall of the restaurant). As for the main event, a selection of grilled meats - a staple of the Balkans - was the speciality. 

The waitress served us very quickly. We both ended up ordering the pork and beef koftas, with a can of Diet Coke and Coke Zero. She didn't seem at all fazed by the fact we were clearly not "local" with respect to the clientèle. Neither, as it happens, did the clientèle seem to mind. I never really expect that to be an issue, but it's always in the back of my mind. The atmosphere was very friendly.

While we waited, I took in the sights and the sounds. Serbian state TV - RTS - was on the TV showing live basketball. USA v Serbia. There was no hiding from it - the TV was pretty loud! It also became clear that this was the reason the restaurant started to fill up. This game was a big deal. Later research found that this was the FIBA World Cup final (Serbia lost).

The restaurant had one toilet, which was fairly basic. On the way to the toilet we discovered a whole back room of the restaurant, where many more had gathered to watch the sport.

The food came in good time, and the portion was fantastic. The meat - around 10 koftas in all - came in two pittas, arranged almost like a burger. (This is also how I ate it - probably not the way it is done!). The pitta bread was quite moist in the middle, which made me assume it had been very freshly baked. The koftas were shaped processed minced meat, which reminded me of the Albanian restaurant all those years ago. The meat also seemed quite eggy to me - no doubt egg played in a part in keeping the koftas together. The meat seemed just cooked. Not much more. I'm sure to most people this would be seen as cooked perfectly. To me, I was just a little nervous that it was undercooked. It wasn't. However it was incredibly salty.

The koftas were served with thin chips and salad - raw onion and cucumber spears - alongside some miscellaneous sauce , almost like a tomato and marscapone mix.

It was a very decent meal and a great way to end the festivities of the day. Heavy going at times, but worth it. Which is not what the locals were probably thinking about that basketball game by the time we left.

Bolivia - El Rincon Quiteno, N7

Restaurant:  El Rincon Quiteno

Location:  235 Holloway Road, London, N7 8HG

Date of visit:  4 September 2014

Time of visit:  8pm

Finally, an opportunity to visit one of London's fine international restaurants once again, for that is the reason for the existance of this blog! I was fairly certain I'd find a restaurant that served Bolivian cuisine, if not exclusively.

After some research, it seems that perhaps the only exclusively Bolivian restaurant in London recently closed down. But that left two or three pan-regional restaurants that also specialised in food from Ecuador and Colombia.

In this case, we opted for an Ecuadorian-Bolivian restaurant in North London. Helpfully, despite not having an actual website, their menu was listed on Just Eat so I was able to make sure that there was a decent choice of Bolivian fair. The selection in this respect wasn't extensive, but it was a selection nonetheless.

I called ahead on the Thursday afternoon to ask if we needed to book a table for two in advance, but this wasn't necessary.

On arrival we were greeted straight away and taken to a table. The restaurant was fairly quiet but there was still a nice little buzz to it. Almost as soon as we sat down we were presented with the menus. Clearly we both had pretty much made up our mind before we arrived, not just because of the menu availability on Just Eat but also because there was one standout main dish.

I ordered a Club Colombia lager, but unfortunately they had none so I had to settle for a bottle of Cusquena. Elle asked for a glass of "house white" wine, which wasn't actually listed on the drinks menu despite a "house red" being listed.

For food, we decided on a small starter and a main. We went for the only Bolivian starter listed - Saltenas Boliviana (a chicken and peas pattie) but unfortunately they were also out of those. Instead we went for the very similar Empanadas Colombianas - one chicken and one beef, which we shared between us.

As for the main, it was clear as soon as we spotted it on the menu that we were both going to go for the pique macho. Not only is this traditionally Bolivian, but it sounded amazing - diced beef, sausage, garlic, chips, onion salad topped with mayo. Even just typing that makes me feel excited all over again! (And proof reading this before publishing is exciting me all over again!)

The starter came out very quickly. Nothing amazing, but the sauce it came with was definitely something to note. It was a small bowl of fairly watery spicy salsa. It added a lovely kick to patties when dashed on top. Elle isn't a big fan of salsa, but she really liked this stuff. It turned a fairly unremarkable, familiar starter into something much more memorable.

While waiting for the mains I took in some of the atmosphere of the restaurant. It was pretty much smack bang between being a restaurant and a cafe. To be honest, the service was too. That isn't to say the service wasn't good. It was excellent, but it was also informal and relaxed. This was a good thing.

When the mains arrived, we were both taken aback. From the description, we both expected something special. And my god did it look special. So much so that, for the first time, we were both moved to take a picture of the meal. Something we've never done on this blog. That isn't what the blog is about, and I've always hated the idea of pulling a camera out in the middle of a restaurant and taking picture of the meal before eating it. Not least because we don't want to give the impression that we're professional food bloggers and we're testing them out. We're not, but in any case we gave the game away this time.

Maybe not everyone's cup of tea, but this looked like heaven to us. And it tasted better. The beef was ample and very tender - not tough at all, despite the waitress arming us with steak knives. The sausage was a cross between saveloy and hot dog - not quality meat, but absolutely fine by us. The mix of garlic, onion and mayo was perfect with all this. And the crowning glory was the chippy-style chips soaked in the copious amount of spicy gravy that settled in the bottom of this slightly bowl-shaped plate. Not many words were spoken as we dug into this concoction. 

Almost absurdly, however, halfway through the meal the head waiter marched to our table, confiscated Elle's half full wine glass proclaiming "that wine is warm" and replaced it instantly with a new, full, ice cold glass of white wine. Wine, by the way, that was exceptionally good. Elle knows her wine. She was hugely impressed. Even I could also tell this was the real deal.

It was nice to just finally get out to a restaurant again, but this experience exceeded expectations - both in the service and especially in the food. A fantastic restaurant to visit, and I can only imagine what the other delights on the menu would be like. Maybe we'll come back if we ever reach the letter E....

Bhutan - home cooking

I cook once a week. That sounds pretty lame really as it suggests Elle cooks all of the rest of the time. Which is true. But when I cook, I cook from scratch. It's an evening long, sometimes day long, event. I take a recipe, I follow it to the letter. It usually works out perfect. I feel like a good cook. But actually, I'm just good at reading instructions.

Still, you learn your strengths and weaknesses. I learned my culinary weakness long ago. Flour. I can't work with flour. Anything that has to be a certain conisistancy to be able to work with its a big no no. Always ends up in disaster.

Why the hell I thought I'd be able to make Bhutanese momo (dumplings) I haven't got a clue. This Bhutanese meal was 50% of a disaster.

It was to be a two parter. The main I chose to cook was pork fing. A kind of spicy pork stew/curry with noodles. I was a little concerned that the portion wouldn't be enough, so I decided to make a side dish of momo. The filling in the momo can be any meat really, but I think more often than not the Bhutanese use minced beef.

The timing of the two parts looked quite handy. The pork fing was to cook for quite a while, during which I'd make the momo.

For the pork fing I bought 1 onion, 1 tomato, 1/5 a block of butter, 700g pork shoulder and 3 green chillis. I was also supposed to buy a small amount of cellophane noodles (about 60g). But I couldn't find them anywhere. I dare say I would've found them in London's Chinatown but that would've been too much effort. Instead I went for the thinnest rice noodles I could find.

I chopped the onion and tomato and added this with the chopped pork and 120ml of water into a pan of the melted butter. I waited for it to simmer, then covered it and cooked this for 90 minutes. At this point I made a bit of an error - I added a touch more water, and I covered the pan. The contents of the pot was quite shallow so I was concerned about it not cooking evenly. In the end the meal was a bit too watery, when it should be drier, but it wasn't too problematic.

Speaking of problematic, it was time to prepare the dumplings. First the easy bit. The filling. 500g of minced beef, one finely chopped onion, 70g oil, some salt and a bit of chilli powder, all mixed together as much as possible. Then set aside.

The dough. Flour and water. Simple as? Was it buggery. Into 600g of plain flour, I added 4 cups of water. I hate cups. Give me millilitres anyday. I worked that out to be about 800ml of water. You can see my problem. Rather than add water a bit at a time, I dumped it all in and mixed. And mixed. And mixed. And I had thin white paste. I added more flour. And more flour. Then all the rest of the flour I had in the flat. I had a slightly thicker thin white paste. So thin it poured through my fingers. There was no way in hell I was rolling this into anything. Except the bin.

Elle said I was surpsingly calm. I think I was. But it's because I already knew this was going to happen. The only problem I had now was the big bowl of raw mince and onion. I ended up frying this, adding some more noodles to it, and serving *that* as a side dish along with some chilli, soy and BBQ sauce.

Anyway, at least I still had the pork fing, and this seemed to be going well. Except the excess sauce. I tried to boil as much of it away as I could without impairing the meal but eventually I had to serve it.

I was right to be initially concerned about the portion size, as it made barely a bowl each (I was certain the amount of noodles suggested was too small but other recipes suggested a similar amount). While the portion may have been on the small side, it was extremely filling. Mostly because of the butter. It was really rich in that respect, but it was no bad thing. It had a really nice subtle spice, the pork was of melt in the mouth consistency and the noodles added a little bit of substance but didn't get in the way. It turns out this would probably have been a nice satisfying meal on it's own, although the dumplings would've been perfect with it.

I think travelling to the nearest Bhutanese restaurant, probably in Bhutan, would've been easier than those dumplings. Never again.

Benin - home cooking

Another edition of cooking in our kitchen, as London is lacking when it comes to Beninian cuisine. Eating in Benin is heavy on staple foods - yams, maize, plantain. Fish is also popular. But of course, given the chance, I will always aim to cook something that doesn't involve seafood. Furthermore, I will usually strive to cook something involving chicken so long as it is a common, popular national dish. Two years working at KFC are to be thanked for that.

After some research, one word came up again and again. Amiwo. Better known to you and me as polenta. That's not necessary a direct translation (it might be) but certainly that's what you end up with. Read on for my experiences of turning cornmeal into polenta...(!)

Again, this recipe was split into two parts. The making and cooking of the cornmeal, and the preparation and cooking of the chicken.

For the polenta I bought half a kg of cornmeal, 1 onion, 125ml of peanut oil, a tomato, a pepper (I chose green) and a clove of garlic. Another ingredient that was suggested was dried ground crayfish. I didn't expect to find that anywhere. And I didn't. Instead I added a dash of fish sauce. I've no idea if that was the right thing to do, but it didn't seem detrimental!

For the other half of the meal I bought four chicken breast fillets, 1 more green pepper, fresh parsley, 2 more cloves of garlic, another onion and a bit more peanut oil. I was also supposed to use celery for this part of the meal, but we both hate celery - one of the few things I just won't eat - so it was skipped.

It's best to get the chicken going first and then just keep it warm afterwards. I added some peanut oil to the pan, and seared the chicken fillets in that before adding the chopped pepper, garlic, parsley and onion. After frying for a bit, and adding a touch of water. I let this braise for a good 15 minutes or so. Originally I was a bit concerned that it would dry out, but actually there was more than enough liquid for it to braise.

Now to the "amiwo". In a second pot I heated the 125ml of peanut oil, which seemed like a huge amount, and then fried in this the tomato (pureed), chopped pepper, crushed garlic clove and fish sauce with a touch of water. Separately I dry fried the cornmeal in another pot. This felt strange. I was frying one of the driest substances you could imagine. It seemed a bit fruitless, especially when I started to sense some burning smells. The cornmeal did start to turn a little brown which I think was the idea. I then took a third of this and mixed it with a good bit of water and stirred into a bit of a paste. I then stirred this into the other sauce pot and heated for 15 mins on a low heat, gradually adding the rest of the cornmeal.

This is where I feared it was all going wrong. It all started getting extremely thick. To the point I couldn't really stir it any more. I ended up adding so much more water than I thought I'd have to. In the end, however, I ended up with a pot full (full being the word) of home-made polenta which seemed to have a great consistency.

Once it was all ready, I arranged a base of polenta and on top of that added the chicken fillets and vegetables, spooning over a good bit of the sauce to mix with the polenta, garnished with some fresh parsley.

Stodge. That was the crux of this meal. A big dollop of stodge with chicken and veg. Polenta is polenta. Not particularly interesting although the way it was cooked in this instance meant that the polenta itself had more flavour than any time I'd had it before. The extra sauce helped as other the meal would have been incredibly dry.

The chicken itself was good. Not hugely flavoursome, but succulent. It was definitely a sufficient meal. I suppose where it falls down, according to my personal taste, is the lack of spices. 

Not a bad meal at all, just not hugely interesting.

Belize - home cooking

The more I look at the countries coming up in this project, and compare it to the few that we've managed to conquer so far, it's becoming clear that home cooking is going to be quite a regular thing. Where in London was I going to find a restaurant that offers authentic Belizian cuisine? Nowhere, it would seem.

My research into that can only be so extensive. A fairly thorough search online, including delving into similar blogs such as this. In this case I even sent an email to the Belize High Commission to ask - essentially - where they go for their dinner like granny use to make. They clearly must think I'm mental.

The next search online was for what to cook. It would seem Belizian cuisine isn't a particularly beautiful thing. Of the options that did appeal, most of it was beyond our tastes. Mostly bits of sealife.

Then I came across the Belizian stew. Everyone loves a good stew. A few sources came up with a similar recipe - from Belizian Garifuna - in which you could use either chicken or fish. As seafood seemed to be popular in this part of the Americas, I went for the fish option.

With Belize being a Central American country, rice and beans was as much a part of this stew as the fish. The suggestion was to buy "red beans". I automatically think kidney beans. Elle doesn't do kidney beans. I opted for a tin of pinto beans instead. Other ingredients to go with the 400g of rice was a can of coconut milk, half an onion, half a sweet red pepper, a teaspoon of garlic powder, of black pepper and of salt.

For the stewed fish, I started with buying some fish - two fillets of river cobbler. Because I'm a tight Scotsman. Also, one green and one red pepper, 2 lemons, one onion, one teaspoon of black pepper, salt and dried thyme. Also a few genrous tablespoons of tomato puree.

I cooked the meal in two parts, as above. The first part is the rice and associated flavours. As the beans were already cooked, I threw them into a large pot with the coconut milk, chopped onion, black pepper, garlic powder and the (washed) rice. After giving it a good mix I put it on to a low heat and simmered for half an hour. It's important to keep an eye on this. I'll come back to why shortly.

Once that bit is done, start with the second part - the fish stew. Juice the lemons and pour it over the fish fillets. Let the lemon juice soak into both sides of the fillets for a good five or ten minutes. Then add this to a pot with about 400ml of water, salt, the chopped onion, peppers and black pepper. Cover the pot and let the fish poach in this for around 20 mins.

Even before I got to the end of that stage, I could tell the rice had already absorbed most of the liquid, requiring a substantial top up. It's important not to overdo stirring the rice to avoid mushiness.

The last step is to add the tomato puree to the fish. I tried to add it just to water/sauce then ensured that as much fish was submerged in this as possible. I then turned the heat right up to try and lose some more of the liquid.

To serve, I first layered a bowl with a generous helping of the rice, the placed a fish fillet on top and topped with the chopped peppers and onions. Finally, I spooned out a few good spoonfuls of the brown from the fish pot into the bowl. It was at this point I realised that this actually came together quite well.

And it really was a beautiful meal. The rice had a lovely subtle but present coconut taste and fragrance and with the beans gave real substance to the meal, absorbing some of the fish broth in the process. The fish itself was so succulent, very tender. The peppers just firm enough to not be mushy. The fish broth was really fresh and almost refreshing. It had a lovely, almost fruity tang to it.

I have to point out that calling the sauce a "fish broth" is actually a bit of a misnomer. This meal wasn't particularly fishy at all, which is part of the idea. That was the reason for soaking the fillets in lemon juice before hand.

Overall, the portion was substantial. It would've fed six people. Clearly, we ate most of it on the same night. That's how we roll. 

Belgium - Leon de Bruxelles

Restaurant:  Leon de Bruxelles

Location:  24 Cambridge Circus, London, WC2H 8AA

Date of visit:  7 June 2014

Time of visit:  8.30pm

After a ridiculously slow start to this project over the last few years, we finally have a bit of momentum and quickly got round to the next restaurant visit. I knew Belgium wouldn't be problematic as I was already aware of the chain restaurant Belgo in Camden (and in other London locations). I actually presumed there was a bit more of a choice of Belgian restaurants in the city, but research only brought up one alternative to the chain - Leon de Bruxelles, on Cambridge Circus - smack bang between Tottenham Court Road and Leicester Square stations.

I can't remember such traumatic indecision in my mind in the lead up to a restaurant visit as there was in this case. The cause? Belgium's national dish. Which also happened to be one of my worst nightmares. Moules. Mussels. Shellfish. Seafood. Without going back to check, I'm sure I've mentioned before that I don't do seafood. Neither does Elle. If it isn't white fish, it isn't for us. It has taken a few years to even contemplate prawns. We are only just there with prawns. But was I really just going to sidestep the national favourite because of my own lack of adventure?

In the end I didn't... couldn't...decide until we arrived at the restaurant. We booked in advance, and also took advantage of a deal on the website - one free drink per person on signing up for the mailing list. Vouchers in hand, we arrived bang on time on this Saturday evening.

The restaurant really stands out from the outside. Charing Cross Road is an incredibly busy street with many bars and restaurants. There is a lot of competition for eyeballs. Leon de Bruxelles does well in this respect.

It's unfortunate that one of the first impressions of this visit was the language barrier between the waitress and I. I'm from the west coast of Scotland. She was clearly a native French speaker. It was never meant to be.

Eventually we were led to a table, of which we had a choice of a few. For being deep into a Saturday night in the very centre of London, the restaurant didn't strike me as being particularly busy. No bad thing for us, I suppose.

It may well have been the case anyway, but the quietness of the restaurant may have contributed to the prompt and attentive service. 

Although there was much to distract me from having to do so, it was time to make a decision. Was I going to order a bowl of mussels for the first time in my life, and jeopardise the whole night?

We took our time over the menus. Myself especially. And THAT is unusual. Despite this, as soon as we closed the menus service was provided.

The first thing we did was flag up the drinks offer we intended to take up, as it was only valid when ordering a main dish. We both agreed we'd go for a starter and a main. Elle ordered the calimari to start, with the Flemish carbonnade beef for main. This was part of the Prix Five menu which offered two courses for £15.50. I opted for the soup to start - Provencal style, and a main course of Ardennaise mussels. A bowl of mussels. For me.

The free drinks came quite quickly - a small glass of house white wine and a glass of the restaurant's own strong Belgian lager, which was really nice. It had a slight almond after-taste, which was no bad thing. Being a Belgian restaurant, the choice of Belgian lagers was vast. Pricey, but vast.

After a second waiter checked to see if we had been served, our first portion of "unlimited bread" arrived. Actually, we didn't test the unlimited nature of the bread as we didn't ask for an additional portion. We were advised the "butter is £10". Humour from a waiter is always welcome.

The starters were excellent. My soup was lovely. Tangy, almost refreshing. Clearly fresh. Perfect with some freshly cracked pepper and the bread. Elle's calamari was gorgeous too. Lovely light crisp batter. Substantial pieces of squid. Again, very obviously very fresh. An excellent start.

For me, this is as good as it was going to get. At this point I need to stress this blog isn't a restaurant review blog. It's a depository for personal experiences in dining. I had set myself a challenge. And a challenge it was.

The mussels came in a bowl, with a plate of chips and a bedpan-shaped plastic tub to discard the shells. Dread washed over me. Suddenly I was in envy of Elle's main - lovely thick chunks of braised beef in a thick gravy with onion, carrot and fries. Still, it had to be done.

I think Elle was in mid-sentence when I just lunged in and cracked open my first mussel. Then the second. Then the third. I wasn't enjoying it. The taste. The consistency. But I was determined. Thankfully Ardennaise mussels are served with chopped bacon on top, so that was something I could recognise and enjoy while I was trying not to think too hard about what else I was eating.

I got into it, but every now then I ate a particularly strong mussel which set me back a little. If ever I was in any doubt as to if I really did like seafood or not, it felt very clear to me at this point that I did not.

I feel bad for writing the above, because I'm sure those mussels were excellent, and you'd probably be hard pushed to find a better moule et frite restaurant in London than this one. But not for me.

Belgium is just as well known for it's fries. I was never sure if there was anything particularly special, or different, about them. If the accompanying fries were anything to go by, there isn't. They were fine. But just chips.

Elle's meal on the other hand - which I would have gone for if I had chickened out of the mussels - looked and tasted excellent. The portion was maybe a little smaller than I would have expected, but it certainly didn't lack in quality. The chunks of beef were luscious, almost melt in the mouth soft, with a lovely thick gravy. I would have expected a stew to come in a bowl or pot, but it was all served on the same plate along with the veg and chips.  

One slight disappointment is that the aforementioned free drinks for which we had a voucher appeared as chargeable on the bill when it arrived. It's only disappointing as I hate to make a fuss. But it was quickly sorted out when we raised it.

At the end of this experience I felt quite proud of myself. And glad that I knew for sure that I wouldn't do mussels again. But I wouldn't have to think twice about coming back for some of the other items on the menu. It's a highly commended visit.

UPDATE - August 2015:  If you do fancy visiting this restaurant after reading this review, don't. It's now London's newest branch of McDonalds. A real shame.

Belarus - home cooking

In a rare development, only days after posting the latest review (despite how long that actually took to write) I was ready to tackle the next country! Unfortunately, I hit another stumbling block when it came to finding a restaurant in London that served Belarusian cuisine. Although there are several Russian and former Soviet bloc restaurants, I wasn't satisfied that any of those specialised in food from Belarus. So it was back to the kitchen...

The research I did before the meal indicated a clear favourite national dish of Belarus - draniki. This is a kind of potato pancake which is often eaten on its own, with sour cream or some other kind of dressing. However, I also discovered it was a perfect accompaniment to machanka, a creamy pork stew. The decision was made. 

At the time I didn't realise that I was about to break a long standing self-imposed rule regarding the kind of food I should never cook again. An explanation is coming up.

The time involved in cooking both parts worked out quite well. First up was the stew which, like most stews, can be cooked for anywhere between 1 and 3 hours. In this case, that flexibility was a real advantage.

I started with 600g of pork. I chose pork steaks, which I cut into substantial chunks. I'd actually recommend buying a different cut of pork and chopping this into larger cubes. My chopped pork ended up being quite long and thin as the steaks were only about 1cm thick. I cut off some of the rind, but didn't go overboard as this would add to the stew.

Lard. Something I've never cooked with before. Incredibly cheap. And incredibly bad for you. And a regular addition to this recipe - starting here with one tablespoon of lard, which I used to fry the pork until browned, then set aside. In the same pan/lard I then fried one chopped onion for around four minutes, before adding the pork back to the pan along with 250ml beef stock, five bay leaves and 250ml of water. Finally, I stirred one tablespoon of plain flour into 250ml warm water and added this to the pan. Then, the heat was cranked up a little and this cooked for around 90 minutes.

The next stage, after 90 minutes had passed, was to add 200ml of sour cream and a few pinches of salt and pepper. Then it's back on to simmer for another 30 minutes.

30 minutes. Half an hour. Enough time, so I thought, to cook the draniki. For this I had already peeled five potatoes, chopped one onion and two garlic cloves. I then blended these together with a hand blender, which was really quite difficult as I didn't have a container big enough, so had to do this in batches. There went some of my time.

Next I added some salt and pepper and one whisked egg, and mixed it all together well. At this point it's wise to strain away some of the water as you don't want the mixture too wet. I neglected to do this, and I paid the price.

Lard. Again. Into the frying pan and then, when hot, add a spoonful of the draniki mixture. Don't do what I did, which was add a few spoonfuls. What you're left with is too bloody big to manage! At this point it is much like cooking a pancake. Which I promised myself years ago I'd never do again. Never do pancakes, or anything which has to be of a certain consistency, or needs heat of a certain temperature, or anything which involves egg, or needs to set. And yet here I was doing exactly that.

Time was passing. It was cooking. Slowly. The bottom seemed to be cooking well. The top... wet. Now the bottom was starting to burn. The top? Wet. If I can just somehow flip it over now. Slop. I was left with a ball of slop. In the bin it went.

I could already feel the anger. At this point Elle came home from work. She stayed well away at first. She's seen this before. Later I think the pity set in and she started to help out.

But this point I'd taken the machanka off the heat, as it was more than done. I actually managed to do a few decent looking (smaller) pieces of draniki which I was happy with. Elle did a few more. Finally, 45 minute late, dinner was served.

The machanka is probably the most enjoyable home meal I've had in this project yet. The pork was beautifully cooked, and the creamy sauce was really rich and thick. Calorie conciousness had to go out the window here. I had already seen how much cream and lard and pork had gone into this, and now I was tasting the reward. A very decent portion too. Any more and it might have become a little too sickly. But it was just the right serving.

The draniki. Meh. Don't get me wrong, it was quite nice but I wasn't happy with the consistency. It was cooked - yes - but not well cooked through. It was still quite moist and I'm almost certain it shouldn't have been. Nonetheless, it was used on its own and with the stew. Another substantial portion.

Despite my age old promise to myself not to cook anything pancakey again, I would've been disappointed to have stopped myself from attempting the draniki as it was so tradtionally Belarusian. So I'm glad I tackled it, and ended up with something edible. But I'm so looking forward to leaving it to the experts again when we attempt the next country.

Barbados - Bajan Spice

Restaurant:  Bajan Spice

Location:  28 Nunhead Green, London, SE15 3QF

Date of visit:  31 August 2013

Time of visit:  7.15pm

Steve and Elle ate:  Steam fish and cou-cou (Steve), Curry chicken, rice and peas with potato salad (Elle)

In the first of a continued effort to get through more countries quicker in the project, we headed to south-east London to what is believed to be the city's only food outlet which specalises in food specifically from Barbados, as well as catering to the culinary appetites of other Caribbean nations.

Firstly, Bajan Spice is clearly a cafe, a takeaway joint, as opposed to a restaurant. That said, there was a small offering of metal tables and chairs inside and outside the cafe, which we used as we were nowhere near home and had nowhere to take food away to!

When we arrived the door was open, and although the cafe was empty the two members of staff were on hand behind the counter to help us. Luther Vandross was playing on the radio. There's no real point to me mentioning that, other than the fact that it pleased me very much.

The menu is clearly displayed above the counter and we spent a few minutes looking at what was on offer. The menu was largely divided between snacks, main meals, and Saturday specials. The specials appeared to be mostly made up of specifically Bajan dishes, and this was what I focused on mostly. Research before our visit informed me that souse is one of the traditional meals of Barbados. This research also informed me not to pick souse, as pig snout, trotters and belly does stretch my food ambitions a little too much. Maybe one day I will become a little more brave.

This research also turned up the fact that flying fish and cou-cou is another popular national dish, and this is what I opted for. Elle wasn't feeling quite as adventurous this weekend and opt-ed for the more standard chicken curry.

The cafe had no alcoholic beverages on offer. Only soft drinks, some of which were imported. I opted for a Carribean import by way of a bottle of Solo banana soda, which was actually really good.

While we waited for the food to arrive, a steady stream of people were coming in and out of the cafe - most quite clear in what they were looking for. It was clear to see that this place is a local favourite.

We waited around 15 minutes for the food, which was maybe a little longer than we would have expected, but it really wasn't an issue. Additionally we were reassured after 10 minutes that the food was on its way. 

Finally, the food was handed over, which we took over to the table. At this point the lady behind the counter apologised for giving it to us in polystyrene boxes, as she assumed we weren't staying. I suppose we didn't tell her we intended to dine in, but she also didn't ask!

The boxes were divided into three compartments. In my box I found two big slabs of cou cou, two large portions of flying fish served with mixed vegetables - okra, peppers, onion and more - and soaked in a fish broth. I am a man who likes spices, but there wasn't much in the way of that despite what I had expected. 

The portion of fish was substantial and really tasty. But it was also incredibly full of bones. It might sound like a ridiculous thing to say, but it is true. There is clearly a knack to eating this kind of fish and discarding of the bones effortlessly. At least to anyone who regularly eats fish like this. I'm not one of those people. I don't want to think about what I must have looked trying to deal with this fish. As time went on, I started to get better at pulling the fish away from the bones. 

I spent so long concentrating on this that I forgot about the cou cou. As I expected, cou cou isn't very flavoursome. At all. But it's very filling and mixed well with the broth. A little too well, as I was left with a lot of dry cou cou and no broth. A fair bit of that was left and was fed to the bin monster. The lady behind the counter did actually offer to wrap it up for me to take home, but I clearly wasn't going to do anything with it later.

Elle's curried chicken was very familiar. The chicken itself was very succulent and tender, and served in a subtly spicy sauce. The rice and peas that it was served with were quite dry, but perfect for the sauce.

The meals were served with a beautiful potato salad which was served in a really nice mayo dressing.

As was the case when we were waiting for the food, many people came and went to order food and pick up phoned in orders. We were sent on our way with an quick enquiry on how our food was - she seemed genuinely interested to know what we thought - and a friendly goodbye.

We left feeling quite happy that the next country was ticked off the list, and that we tried something new again.

As for the continuted effort to get through the list of countries quicker...erm...