Chad - home cooking

Another African country, another trip to the kitchen. As far as I can tell, there are no restaurants in London that cater for Chadian cuisine. So it was back into the kitchen.

I felt I had to do a fish dish this time around. It's rare that I cook any kind of seafood, and fish is in plentiful supply in many parts of Africa. Lake Chad is a recognisable feature in the west of the country, on the Nigeria and Niger border. As such, communities around the lake reap the benefits of the fish from the lake. Tilapia is commonly found here, and as a result I thought broiled tilapia cooked in a local style would be appropriate. But in the end this was quite a simple, almost generic solution, so to add authenticity I decided to serve with a side of Chadian salad.

As a result, the meal with prepared in two parts. Salad first, fish second. The main reason for this was to allow the salad to chill in the fridge while the fish cooked. Yep, a meal of hot and cold.

So, for the salad. It was made up for 150g long grain brown rice, 1 small cucumber, 2 bananas, 50g raisins, 2 tablespoons of chopped almonds, 60 ml olive oil, 1 lemon, and some salt, ground coriander, ground cumin, cayenne pepper and honey.

The first step was to cook the rice and set aside to cool. During this, it was time to slice the bananas and cucumber and add to the raisins and almonds. 

Then, to bind this together, the dressing which consisted of the rind and juice of a lemon, mixed with olive oil, salt, ground spices and honey. Add this to the rest of the salad, and the rice, and mix softly but well, then put in the fridge to cool for at least half an hour.

With that out of the way, it was time to cook the fish. An important stage for preparation was to pat dry the tilapia fillets before coating in flour on both sides. I then pressed two sliced garlic cloves into both sides of the fish fillets. To be honest though, the cloves didn't really stay in place at all and fell off at all the future stages of this recipe.

I then flash fried the fish in hot oil, on both sides, before placing two halved tomatoes on top of the fish, topped with a sprinkle of salt, pepper and chilli powder, and a splash of water. I covered the pot and simmered for 40 minutes.

Both the fish and salad were served together.

The verdict? A real mix of different flavours which shouldn't really go together. I can't really say they did, but it wasn't unpleasant at all. The fish was lovely, with a great infusion of garlic. Even though it was difficult to keep the sliced cloves on the fish, they still cooked together and the taste was definitely there. As for the salad, for me the raisins made it. Words I never thought I'd say. The raisins made it. The big hits of sweetness with every few mouthfuls somehow seemed to compliment the rest of the flavours. This coming from a man who once upon a time refused to eat any fruit with food.

The banana was thankfully not too flavoursome after the cooking process. The texture and slight flavour played a big part. The cucumber was really fresh and gave the dish a good bit of refreshment. Elle and I aren't big fans of cucumber but we still managed quite well with it this time round.

In the end there wasn't a single grain of rice left. It was all gone within 20 minutes.

I think it gives me an extra appreciation for this type of cooking. Certain meals are based on blended, complimentary flavours. But recipes with distinct, contrasting flavours can be just as, if not even more, interesting and enjoyable.

Regardless, time for some restaurant visits!

Central African Republic - home cooking

After a nice run of restaurant visits, it was time to go back into the kitchen for a dish from the Central African Republic. Before even looking at recipes, I already had an idea of what to expect. Meat. Peanut butter. I didn't approach the recipe research with this in mind, but I ended up settling on a dish called kanda ti nyma. Which was meat with peanut butter.

Kanda signifies meatballs, and is a meal in its own right. Kanda ti nyma is the aforementioned meatballs in an okra and peanut sauce. Although not a massive fan of peanut butter in a dinner, this seemed to be the more authentic, common option of the two.

The recipe is quite simple, in all honestly, although I've been known to make a complete balls up - no pun intended - of meatballs, which just end up being mince and onions again.

For this meal I used 750g of minced beef, 2 large onions, 1 1/2 eggs, 2 chilles, 3 cloves of garlic, 9 okra and 5 tablespoons of unsweetened peanut butter.

First stage was to make the meatballs. As expected, this was done by combining the minced beef, 1 chopped onion, chopped chilli and chopped garlic along with 1 1/2 beaten eggs. Once this was well mixed together, it was time to form the meatballs which I moulded to be just bigger than golf ball size. I ended up getting 18 meatballs out of the ingredients.

Next up, the sauce. I fried the other chopped onion until it started to turn translucent, then added the chopped okra and fried for another minute or two until the mixture started to combine. Then set aside.

At this point the meatballs were browned on all sides in another pan. I didn't have a pan big enough so I had to do this in two batches.

The next stage was to mix 360ml of water with the peanut butter, add this to the onion and okra mix, and simmer for a minute or so. Then it was time to gently place the meatballs into the pot. It was a bit tight for space, but I managed to fit all 18 meatballs into the base of what essentially is a soup pot. The sauce came up to just over halfway up the meatballs, but I was quite confident they were going to cook well, especially turning them round halfway through cooking.

After 25 minutes, they were done.

The meat and sauce were served on a bed of rice. I served 6 meatballs topped with sauce for the main dish, and left the rest to the side for later.

The verdict. The meatballs themselves were fantastic.Of any of the previous times I've actually successfully made meatballs which stayed ball shaped, they haven't ever really been particularly flavoursome. This wasn't the case this time. There was a really nice kick from the chilli. The garlic and onion came through fantastically, and the meat itself was perfectly done. 

As for the sauce, the peanut flavour was definitely in evidence. Certainly not overpowering, but definitely there. This ended up being an issue for Elle, who isn't a peanut fan generally anyway. She actually did quite well considering, finishing the meal but leaving the extras.

I cooked okra once before, and it was an absolute disaster. It was like eating little pieces of hard plastic. I have no idea what I did wrong then, but this - the second time I've cooked with okra - was much more successful, and there was no doubt it plays a role in bringing the sauce together and giving it substance. A good bit of onion in the sauce helped to make the sauce quite familiar and probably helped counter the peanut taste.

All in all, a very filling, satisfying and surprisingly tasty meal, even if the individual tastes don't suit everyone's palate. 

Cape Verde - home cooking

Although I do pride myself on my geographical knowledge, especially when it comes to countries and borders, I wasn't initially sure if Cape Verde was going to be the next installment of our restaurants project or not. I had never been sure if the territory was an autonomous country in its own right, or a dependency of another. 

But it didn't take much research to realise that Cape Verde is indeed a nation, and as such has a national dish. It also didn't take much research to ascertain that there are no restaurants in London that cater for Cape Verde's cuisine. So it was back to the kitchen.

During the aforementioned research one uniquely national dish popped up again and again. Cachupa - a stew of corn, beans and meat. Going a little deeper than that, cachupa rica added a few more ingredients than the simpler version of the meal. All ingredients that sounded bloody good to me.

There are many variations of even this version of the dish, and I think there is also permitted use of creative licence when it comes to adding even more. I ended up using a recipe of a Cape Verdean student in London, guessing that this was as authentic as I was going to get.

The first ingredient I attempted to buy was dry corn or hominy. No luck. So I took the easy way out and went for sweetcorn, to add later in the process rather than cook with from scratch. I used dry kidney beans as red beans. Also in the meal was olive oil, onions, bay leaves, vegetable stock, garlic, chorizo, pork, chilli powder, potatoes and a sweet potato, white cabbage, carrots and tomatoes.

As I used dry beans, and bought them on the day of cooking, I flash soaked them for an hour to soften them up. After sauteing one chopped onion with a bay leaf I added the beans (and usually the corn) followed by one litre of both vegetable stock and water. This cooked for 40 minutes.

While this was on the go, in another big pot I heated four tablespoons of olive oil and to this added the other chopped onion, four crushed garlic gloves and one bay leaf. Once the onions started to soften I added one sliced ring of chorizo, half a kg of diced pork, and a tablespoon of chilli powder. This all cooked together on a low heat for around 20 minutes, stirring often as the mixture was quite dry.

Both pots were ready at pretty much the same time. One was added to the other, and at this point the rest of the ingredients - 4 small potatoes (quartered), 1 sweet potato (quartered) half a cabbage (sliced), 2 carrots (sliced), and 2 tomatoes (peeled and sliced) - were added, mixed together thoroughly and cooked for another 20 minutes. This is also the point where I added a drained tin of sweetcorn.

A word of advice. Use the biggest pot you have for this. The recipe used here was to feed six, and I would even say that was a bit of an underestimation.

When serving, I was careful to leave as much liquid in the pot as possible as ideally it should be served on a plate. And it was hugely enjoyable. I always want to use the word "wholesome" when it comes to cooking a stew like this, and wholesome is a good word to describe it. I love cooking with rich items like chorizo, as the flavour really soaks into everything else in the pot in the best way possible.

The potatoes added some real substance to the meal, as did the pork. The beans and corn made this a thoroughly filling meal. I'm still not really sure what bay leaves do in cooking, and the chilli powder seemed to have negligible effect. Still, this was a fantastic dinner that also became lunch a couple of days later.

Elle also enjoyed the meal, but it contain three things that she doesn't really eat - kidney beans, chorizo and carrot. She gave it a good go though, and discarded only the kidney beans. She actually was complimentary about the chorizo such is the positive effect the spicy sausage has during the cooking process.

Canada - The Maple Leaf

Restaurant:  The Maple Leaf

Location:  41 Maiden Lane, London, WC2E 7LJ

Date of visit:  23 August 2015 

Time of visit:  7pm

Canada was always going to be a fairly simple, non-exotic affair. We were already familiar with the Maple Leaf after a couple of visits for a drink and some pool (I swear there was once a selection of pool tables, although they seem to be gone now). I also assumed this was the only real option when it came to Canadian or Canadian-themed bars/restaurants, which seems to be the case.

As for Canadian cuisine... I don't even know what to write. One of the top "national dishes" of Canada in a recent survey was the "Kraft dinner" (macaroni cheese from a box). 

On checking the menu ahead of the visit, the selection was fairly standard. Burgers. Steaks. And one single dish on the menu that looked uniquely Canadian. Poutine. Chips, cheese and gravy. Off we went.

We arrived on a Sunday evening and the venue was fairly busy. It's definitely much more of a pub that does food, than a restaurant. Actually, I think this was the first time we had visited such a venue since the project began. Nevertheless, we felt quite at home.

After a little mulling over the menu, Elle approached the bar to order. She came back a few minutes later with a story of how the barmaid was hungover, finding this out after her colleague joked about it behind the bar. She got confused taking the order, but got there in the end. Despite the hangover, she still tried some upselling, including upgrading fries to "criss cross fries". We politely declined.

For starters we went for a couple of dishes to share. Poutine and six ghost chilli chicken wings. For mains we both went for the "Maple Leaf" burger, one with ghost chilli pulled pork (Steve) and one with peri peri pulled pork (Elle). And a pint of Fosters and Aspalls respectively.

As we waited, I spotted live Spanish football on the TV's around the pub. I guess there were no live ice hockey games on in Canada at the time (is it even ice hockey season?).

The food arrived in fairly good time, the starters first. The poutine looked and tasted exactly like it was described. Chips, cheese and gravy. But it was *just* chips, cheese and gravy. There was nothing particularly unique about it. I've seen the cheese in poutine described as "cheese curds". This was almost certainly grated cheddar. And a "light brown gravy-like sauce" in this case was definitely simply beef gravy. Don't get me wrong, to this Scotsman and Black Country girl, it was absolutely as good as chips, cheese and gravy should be! Maybe we just expected some kind of twist.

The starters may have lacked twist, but certainly made up for it in kick. The ghost chilli wings were pretty special. I've had hotter wings (namely the Orange Buffalo stall near the Truman Brewery in East London - ridiculously intense!!) but these were pretty good too. Good size of wings too. It's too easy to be served budgie wings these days. We also received 8 wings instead of the advertised 6. Bonus!

At this point I was hugely annoyed with myself. This blog has recently included photos of the food. Yet I neglected to take a picture of the starters! As for the main...

There was no forgetting to take a picture of the main, for it was served on a slab of tree. For some reason this instantly irked the both of us. All I could think was that this burger was going to get messy. And this plank of wood wasn't going to help contain it much. Plus, I've had it somehow instilled in me that wood is unhygienic for preparing and serving food. The wooden chopping board effect. 

Elle very politely asked for two plates instead, which seemed to confuse the staff who asked "Don't you like our wooden boards?". He seemed more amused than anything else. I think I decided that this wouldn't even have been an issue were we at least ten years younger. Anyway, let's not dwell on that.

Oh, and another thing. When I read "pulled pork mixed with sauce" I expect "pulled pork mixed with sauce". Not "pulled pork with no sauce, with a small pot of sauce for you to somehow mix into the pulled pork on top of a burger". I can't even say I'm nitpicking now. I wanted minimal effort, and all of a sudden there was effort involved! How hard would it have been to do, in the kitchen, what it claimed in the menu?

I don't even think I want to read those three paragraphs back. I'm already disappointed in myself for writing them. I don't really know what I've become. Let's just say, when all was said and done, it was a really good burger. Freshly cooked, maybe a little lightly. If you don't like your burgers pink, this might not have been your thing. It was a little worrying that Elle's was fully cooked and mine wasn't, so I can't be sure it was the house style. Just undercooked.

This review will either read like an awful experience, or make me sound like a moany wanker. Neither are true. Honest! The menu is really decent, and the food was good. As was the service. It was a really standard meal, experience and night.

Cameroon - Maestro

Restaurant:  Maestro

Location:  45 Deptford Broadway, London, SE8 4PH

Date of visit:  9 August 2015

Time of visit:  6.30pm

Research for this meal brought up one main, single choice. There are reportedly one or two "street food" stalls selling Cameroonian cuisine too, but this was the only real restaurant choice. Off to Deptford we went.

The website said the restaurant opened at 4pm on Sunday. Google said 6pm. We arrived at 6.30pm. According to the sign on the door, they had been open since 1.

On walking in we were presented with a completely empty restaurant, with the exception of the waitress apparently doing the books at the counter. We were greeted with a look of pure bemusement. A reaction we have witnessed several times, but she made no attempt to welcome us to the venue. I asked if I could take a table. I don't even think she replied, but we saw ourselves to a table anyway.

After a few minutes she eventually came over to us and presented a couple of menus. The selection of food on the menu was larger than that on the website. It was also cheaper than the listing on the website, which doesn't seem to have been updated since 2008. 

Elle being Elle, she wasn't ready to order the first time the waitress came to ask. And my God did we suffer for that. She didn't return for at least twenty minutes, and only then after asking her to come over to please please take our order!

The menu had a selection of meat dishes, with many different varieties of meat - pork, goat and chicken to name a few. Most of the main dishes also came with an included side dish, of which there was a fair selection.

For drinks Elle ordered a Diet Coke, only to be told they had no soft drinks. So we both went for beer - Heineken. Food wise, Elle ordered the "Poulet DG" - grilled spicy chicken with a side of chips. Immediately we were told they had no chips, so she opted for a side of fried plantain. I went for the national dish of Cameroon - Ndole - with beef (and a side of fried plantain). I was met with a look of disbelief, and was asked if this was the first time. She actually spoke! As this was true, it was my first time so  Iasked if she recommended it. Without saying a word, she left the table. This was really odd and, with hindsight, downright rude.

The restaurant remained empty. It had a really authentic feeling, and quite clearly was a venue capable of hosting busy music and club nights. Throughout the visit was a diet of Cameroonian music videos on various flatscreen TVs. All music seemed really current and it was a great insight into popular culture in Cameroon.

We had plenty of time to enjoy the music videos too, as we waited over 35 minutes for the food to appear. Elle's plate of food looked fantastic when it came. A great portion and large pieces of chicken. Unusually, at least for us, the chicken pieces were chopped entirely - through the bone - rather than full pieces. Quarter thighs, half ribs etc. But the chicken had a great slightly spicy grilled taste, served with onion, tomato, a small green salad selection The fried plantain which was really nice and sweet, but quite soft and squidgy - as fried plantain tends to go when cooked.

As soon as my food arrived I knew I was about to embark on something I had never tried before. Ndole is a soup-like stew of nuts, ndoleh (bitterleaf) and meat. The bitterleaf part is key, as this is what gives it the deep green colour, and the overpowering bitter taste. It was served in a bowl with the fried plantain on a separate dish, and a small dish of chilli sauce (which actually came with all the food, so it was likely intended for both of us). The ndole looked quite oily and initially I couldn't see much beef, but it was buried under the green.

This was absolutely the most unusual thing I've eaten on this project so far. Like nothing I had ever tried before. The taste was unique. Initially quite pleasant. But after a few seconds the bitterness of the ndoleh starts to push through. That is accentuated with the next mouthful. And even more so with the next. I was hoping for the familiarity of the beef to help me through, but I couldn't taste it. It was mostly fat and tubes anyway.

Then I remembered the chilli sauce. I added some of that to the plantain, ate some of that then went back to the ndole. All of a sudden it was like a different meal! The spiciness of the chilli sauce (and it *was* spicy) seemed to cancel out much of the bitterness of the bitterleaf, but retained the flavour. Suddenly, I was able to eat the dish quite happily. And this lasted for a little while, until the bitterness started to creep through again. Eventually, with the meat gone, and the increasing bitter greasiness left in the bowl I had to stop. I left just under a quarter of the ndole, which is unheard of for me. I also left much of the plantain, which was just too greasy for me.

After a bit of a wait, the waitress came to collect the plates. I wasn't risking it - I took this opportunity to immediately ask for the bill. We had already been here for much longer than expected. A few other people had come in during our meal, but they seemed to be linked or related to the restaurant rather than paying customers.

We left the money on the table and made our way out. No goodbye. No real positive memories of a fairly disappointing night. Onward.

Cambodia - Lemongrass, NW1

Restaurant:  Lemongrass

Location:  243 Royal College Street, London, NW1 9LT

Date of visit:  11 July 2015

Time of visit:  7.45pm

After nearly six years of the project beginning in an Afghan restaurant, we were finally onto the third letter. The letter "C". And thankfully a restaurant visit this time, rather than home cooking.

I was really pleased to see there was a highly rated Cambodian restaurant in one of our favourite parts of London: Camden. After spending an entire afternoon in the sunshine and various beer gardens, we headed up to NW1. After another drink at the nearby Grand Union bar, we headed into Lemongrass without a reservation.

By the look of things a reservation wasn't necessary anyway. Despite Lemongrass being the only Cambodian restaurant in London, it seems not many had traveled for that experience on this Saturday evening. In fact, the impression I got was that the general clientele for this restaurant was people from the local area who saw the restaurant as the local "Thai-esque" restaurant for eating in and takeaway.

The restaurant itself felt like a cross between a restaurant and a cafe. Nice and simple inside. Really quite small, with an open kitchen. When we walked in the kitchen was pretty crammed with the chefs and the waitress, who took a little while to get us seated but this was forgivable.

When she did see us to a table, she was very pleasant which continued through the visit. As did the prompt and attentive service. Despite the basic feel of the restaurant, there was a good bit of napkin art on show. I neglected to take a picture of it, which I regret now, but it was quite impressive!

The menu is incredibly tantalising. So many great flavours and descriptions, most of which meet the tastes of Elle and I almost perfectly. Chilli, lemon, garlic, lemongrass, ginger. Various combinations of those and more. The menu isn't extensive in its number of choices, but somehow the variety of dishes is still rather large. Although we don't tend to go for such offers, there is also a fantastic handful of set menu and taster options for two or more to share.

The price bracket is fairly typical too - certainly not particularly expensive. Between £4 and £5 for a "Pre-Dinner Treat" (starter), and between £7 and £9 for the mains. Beer selection is from a choice of one - Tiger. Five different types of white and red wines, and a selection of spirits, soft drinks and fruit juices.

As the meat lovers that we are, we rarely go for any kind of vegetarian option. But for the stater, one dishes stood out to the both of us instantly. We both went for the garlic lemon mushrooms to start.

For mains, I opted for the most traditional sounding dish on the menu - Phnom Penh chicken. Elle picked the ginger chicken. We both opted for ginger fried rice to go with the dishes.

We didn't have to wait too long at all before the starters arrived, and they arrived in one of the most interesting dishes I've seen. At first glance the garlic lemon mushrooms appeared to be on a plate, until you noticed the height from the table. In fact, they were piled into a small bowl-like recess in the middle of the plate inside which was a good helping of the thin soup-like sauce and more mushrooms.

The "plate" was also decorated with a design of sweet chilli sauce, pickled cabbage and - we think - basil. We made a superb choice with this. Firstly, the portion was fantastic. And the flavour was gorgeous. Fantastic sense of garlic, with a hint of lemon. The mushrooms were cooked to perfection. Not overdone. And once they were finished, we were left with a good amount of the soup-like sauce in the small bowl, which we ate like a soup, and capped off a really satisfying "Pre-Dinner Treat".

If this is what pre-dinner was like, the dinner was set to be something special. And both mains arrived in good time.

Phnom Penh chicken was listed as "onion, carrot and basil in a sweet hot chilli sauce". And it was exactly that. There was a generous helping of chicken in the dish, most likely chopped breast meat. The onions, to my liking, were served raw and the basil flavour was woven well into the dish alongside good big slices of peppers. The sauce gave a good sense of spice. The more I ate, the more I thought that perhaps the flavours hadn't quite mixed together very well in cooking. Perhaps due to the onion not being cooked with the rest of the dish? Perhaps this is the style. I just had the impression of eating something with many individual flavours, rather than a single dish with a unified flavour.

Something else which struck me was how natural the dish seemed. There were no added colours. No extra salt. It all seemed very honest. This was a great thing.

Elle had similar impressions with her dish, Again the helping of chicken and sliced vegetables were generous. The ginger flavour came through well, but wasn't overpowering which initially was a concern when ordering with the ginger rice.

The rice actually ended up being quite flavourless. Yes, there was some ginger there, but with hindsight again it didn't appear to be cooked with any salt. Not a bad thing necessarily, but it meant a degree of blandness with the rice.

I want to stress that this was a lovely meal. And nothing before or after this point is meant as a criticism, because it isn't. But we weren't blown away by the mains. They were more than decent. But I think with the anticipation driven by the menu descriptions, and the bar being set so high by the starters, the mains underwhelmed us somewhat.

But the standard of the food, and the level of service were fantastic. The restaurant got busier as the evening went on. It's easy to see why this place is popular and has been around for three decades.

Burundi - home cooking

Burundi is a tiny country in central Africa without any real national culinary identity. As a result, the closest I could find to a suitable restaurant in London was a Ugandan restaurant which claimed to offer some "Burundian style" dishes. On checking their menu online, I couldn't find any. So it was back to the kitchen.

Never before have I come to research the cuisine of a country and found such a small variety of dishes that I could cook. Burundi is one of the poorest countries in Africa, and no doubt a result of this is a small variety of dishes using almost exclusively staple items of food. Ideally anything I would cook for this project would involve meat. We are big meat eaters. However, the meat options in traditional Burundian cuisine were few. Of the dishes I could have chosen were those involving chicken giblets, tripe and blood. It was time to look at the non-meat options.

There was one option which actually appealed quite strongly. A Burundian bean soup. I'm a fan of soup. I've said that before. I'm also a fan of beans, whereas Elle historically isn't such a big fan. But this was the best it was going to get.

For the the soup I bought 400g each of butter beans, cannellini beans and kidney beans. Crucial mistake in the measurements, as you'll read later. I also needed vegetable stock, 4 onions, a bunch of celery stalks, one green and one red pepper, dried chilli flakes, fresh parsley, salt and crunchy peanut butter.

Bad preparation meant I didn't have time to soak the beans overnight. If truth be told, I forgot that was even a thing. It turns out it's quite a crucial part of the process for various reasons, not least to ensure the beans are safe to eat. After a quick bit of research online, I settled for the flash soak process. This basically involves covering the beans in water, bringing them to a boil for two minutes, removing the heat, placing a lid on top and letting the beans soak in the water for an hour (topping up with boiling water to cover if required). This supposedly brings the beans to a state similar to that if they were soaked overnight. I can't dispute that. They seemed ready to me.

At this point I knew this was going to be a bit of a nightmare. The biggest soup pot I had wasn't big enough to accommodate all the beans I had. I suddenly realised I was cooking for sixteen people. At this point I had to employ the use of another pot. And it didn't end there.

Before the hour soak was due to end, I fried the chopped vegetables until softened (around 10 minutes) and then added this to the beans. At this point I added the chilli flakes, chopped parsley (around 6 tablespoons) and 2 teaspoons of salt.

The idea at this point was to now cover the entire mixture with vegetable stock and water and simmer for 90 minutes. The problem I had here was there was no room for the water. At all. It was clear that I had to spread out the entire contents of the soup pot into the other three pots that I owned. Even this was just enough!

So I added boiling water to all four pots, on all four stove hobs, to cover the mixture and brought all pots to a simmer - maintaining this temperature for the next 90 minutes. With about 15 minutes to go the last step was to stir in about six tablespoons of the crunchy peanut butter across all four pots, then cook for the final 15 minutes.

When the time was up, I was left with a wholesome looking, inviting bean soup of monstrous proportions. I served the soup with a well fired tiger bloomer loaf.

On eating, the soup was every bit as wholesome and filling as you'd expected, but with no one real flavour powering through. The peanut flavour was noticable, and gave the soup the texture and thickness. On cooking, some of the beans had softened almost to the point of being mashed on stirring, which helped the texture. The parsley was an addition that worked, despite me not being a huge fan of the herb. The chilli flakes were lost. Again, the soup overall could have done with more salt but I always hold back in this regard.

Generally, it was a really enjoyable soup which really did satsify. Which is just as well, as the leftovers were divided into six very generous meal-sized portions - four of which went in the fridge for the next couple of days, and the other two remain in the freezer.

Soups apparently also seem to do better on the second or third day. And I have to say, I enjoyed mine much more on the third day. Elle said the same about her lunch on the second day. I have no idea why that happens, but it was comforting to know that I had created something which kept on giving. And giving. And giving.

Burma/Myanmar - Mandalay, W2

Restaurant:  Mandalay

Location:  444 Edgware Road, London, W2 1EG

Date of visit:  7 June 2015

Time of visit:  7pm

The concept of an A-to-Z of London restaurants project based on countries is a simple one at first. The project has been following Wikipedia's list of sovereign states and has been pretty straight forward so far. Until now. The next country on the list was Burma. However, the UN and much of the international community recognises the country as "Myanmar". The UK government don't recognise the legitimacy of the regime that changed the name and therefore continues to use Burma. The media industry flip flop between the two.

What to do? I decided to do the country - whatever you want to call it - now rather than when I get to the countries beginning with "M". The biggest reason is that my list has nothing for Myanmar. I didn't want to risk not doing the country at all.

London has one real Burmese restaurant, which is fairly well known for being inexpensive and very accessible. Elle and I made a day of it and walked the four miles from our home to the restaurant, making some "refreshment" stops on the way.

We arrived at 7pm. The restaurant was fairly quiet when we walked in, but in the following fifteen minutes it really started to fill. Not difficult to do, as the restaurant was quite small.

In fact, whilst looking at the menu and deciding on our choices, a rather large group arrived without a reservation. We were politely asked if we would move to a small table by the window so they could move another two tables together to accommodate them. We didn't have an issue with this at all, but we did have to move from a comfortable position inside the restaurant to a table right beside the large window looking onto the street (and the street looking on to us!).

I should reiterate again how polite the service was though. It was a pleasure to be served by the staff there.

The menu didn't look to be quite as extensive as the one on the website. It also seemed to be a little pricier, which leads me to assume the website may be somewhat outdated. It's a fantastic menu nonetheless, with a large selection of soups and starters (including samosas and fritters), salads, various meat dishes and sundries.

The menu reads very much like an Indian or Chinese menu, which is somewhat true of some Burmese cuisine in general. However, I think it's fair to say that even if the description of a meal sounds familiar, the result will be quite different to what you would expect.

I am a fan of soup, so I had to go for one of those on the menu. I opted for the tantalising sounding chicken, shrimp and lime soup to start. Elle ordered the chicken and vegetable fritter, which I assumed would be like some kind of bhaji. For main I went for the chicken and lemongrass with lentil rice. This was a really unusual choice for me as I would almost always be drawn to the spiciest dish on the menu! Elle, on the other hand, picked the chilli chicken with coconut rice.

While we waited, we took in the surroundings. One of the things that really stood out for me was the lack of music in the restaurant. It struck me as really unusual. The restaurant itself has a slightly informal cafe feel, but is comfortable. Interestingly, the toilet for the restaurant is outside the back of the building, and is locked with a passcode (which you get from the door frame inside the restaurant!).

The drinks came shortly after we ordered. I had a beer. The beer was simply listed on the menu as "beer". On asking, we discovered they stocked Tsingtao and Singha beers. Similarly, the wine by the glass selection was signified by "Glass of wine" on the menu. No suggestion as to the size of the glass (it was served in a 125ml glass in the end, but filled beyond this measurement line). The wine wasn't really of a great quality, but this wasn't really an issue.

The starters came in no time. Elle's fritters - two of - appeared as deep fried bhaji-like creations. Battered strands of onion, sweet potato (or carrott), courgette and the odd chunk of chicken. It was served with three generous pots of soy, tamarind and sweet chilli sauces. The fritters were nice and crisp, with good chunks of chicken. The batter was quite light, and overall didn't seem too greasy at all. The tamarind dip was a little bland. Soy sauce was soy sauce. And the sweet chilli sauce had a real kick to it.

As did my soup. It was fantastic - bursting with flavour. The lime flavour cut through really well but was in no way overpowering. It was really refreshingwith  a small amount of chicken and shrimp (I counted three of the latter) with a handful of beansprouts and ample coriander. I'm not a huge fan of coriander, but it was a perfect addition to the soup. It worked incredibly well.

The mains came in good time too. The first impression was that the portions seemed fairly small. As time went on this was proven to be a non-issue as the portions were actually incredibly filling. My chicken and lemongrass was lovely. Not spicy by any means, but full of flavour. The lemongrass was again was everpresent, but not overpowering. The chicken was presented in small bitesized chunks with a nice thick sauce. The lentil rice was particularly enjoyable. It appeared that the lentils had been softened then almost mashed into the rice.

Elle's chilli chicken had a lovely rich sauce with a real kick, and again small bitesized pieces of chicken. The coconut rice was lovely - the flavour was much stronger with this portion of rice, but when that flavour is coconut this is no bad thing! It complemented the spiciness of the main very nicely.

Overall this was a really enjoyable visit. The service was fantastic, and the quality of the food was very high. I came away feeling we had eaten something fairly familiar, but with a Burmese twist. And having not spent very much money.

Burkina Faso - home cooking

I came across a few issues this time round. The most familiar issue was not being able to find a restaurant in London that served the food of Burkina Faso. I did make a point in checking pan-African restaurants that may have a dish or two from the country, but that search was fruitless. 

The second issue was not so common, and dependent on region. In this case, it was the difficulty in finding a dish which was specific to the country, a country which finds itself in a larger region which shares many common traditional dishes - West Africa.

Finally, the third issue, a completely personal one, was neglecting to use an ingredient I bought. A crucial one.

Dealing with issue one is easy. It's time to get back in the kitchen. The second issue took a bit of time. I finally settled on a dish which I couldn't relate to any other country - munyu caf couscous, a meat, tomato and peanut stew. I also decided to serve it with a side dish of Boussan touba - black eyed pea fritters.

For the main, I used lamb as the meat as it is more traditional than chicken or beef, but it would work with those too (in fact, I think it would go better with chicken). I browned half a kg of diced lamb, then added 2 crushed tomatoes, 1 small chopped onion and a good teaspoon of tomato puree. After mixing this I added enough water to cover the mixture in the pot, then added the majority of a jar of smooth peanut butter, mixed until melted. Finally, I threw in one third of a chopped cabbage and one small chopped aubergine. Stir, cover and simmer for an hour.

In the meantime, it was time to get to the side dish. It was all about to go wrong.

I started with half a pound of black eyed peas, and cooked these in boiling water for forty minutes, after which I pounded into a mush. I pureed half an onion and one carrot together and added to the beans and mixed well to create a wet dough. After a generous seasoning of salt and pepper it was time to try and actually create the "fritters".

The trick was to try and create golf ball sized balls of dough. This was disastrous. The mixture was too wet, and just broke apart.

I did manage to get a fairly full frying pan of the Boussan touba on the go, fried one on side for five minutes before turning over and frying on the other side. Disaster. They just broke apart on any attempt to turn them over. Into bits. Many bits. Eventually I lost the plot and just mixed the contents of the pan together to great some kind of Boussan touba hash and fried this.

Luckily, I had only used half of the mixture so far. So I decided to take a different approach and bake the rest in the oven. This was a little more successful, but ended up with a product that was drier than a camel's arse.

Anyway, back to the main dish - surely I wasn't going to mess THAT up too. Thankfully not, it was coming along nicely, if a little too watery. I had to turn the heat up considerably to get rid of some of the excess, although I was keeping in mind that as the stew was largely peanut butter it was bound to thicken on cooling.

Just before the main was of a decent consistency, I threw on some cous cous to cook, then made this into a bed on the plate onto which I spooned the munya caf.

The verdict? Unusual. No flavour was particularly overpowering. Not even moderately. I was pleased that the peanut influence was in no way strong. It maybe could have done with a little more salt. The lamb was cooked perfectly, but I can't say the flavour of the lamb added anything to the sauce. It wasn't an unpleasant meal at all, but it didn't really scream of anything. Other than calories. God only knows how many calories.

The Boussan touba wasn't a complete disaster. The fritters were actually quite tasty, with a flavour that wasn't familiar to me. But as I mentioned before very very dry. Very dry. As I mulled over with Elle what went wrong, the sudden realisation set in. The eggs. The eggs I bought. All six were still on the fridge. Eggs are a key ingredient into binding any kind of mixture to cook with. Binding was the one big thing missing from this meal!

It's a bit of a feature of mine when it comes to cooking. Missing important items. In my defence the recipe I was working from listed eggs in the ingredients, then neglected to say what to do with them in the method. Doesn't take a genius to work out what part they were supposed to play though. A genius I am not. Nor am I a chef really.

Bulgaria - Black Sea Restaurant, E15

Restaurant:  Black Sea 

Location:  81 Portway Road, Stratford E15 3QJ

Date of visit:  3 May 2015

Time of visit:  6pm

Our latest restaurant adventure took us to East London, to one of a handful of cafes and restaurants catering for the Bulgarian community. A quick search online flagged up that the Black Sea restaurant was clearly the best of the lot. And off we went.

The restaurant is halfway between Stratford and Plaistow stations and is housed in a building that was almost certainly a pub in a former life. And like some pubs in quiet communities, we walked in to an initially uncomfortable welcome. Almost the stereotypical "turns the place silent, someone drops a glass in shock, tumbleweed" scenario. It seemed clear that we weren't Bulgarian. And that people who aren't Bulgarian rarely walk through the doors. It's the kind of situation I expected long before now on this project.

Anyway, it turned out that the cold welcome came from some customers - nothing harsh, just a look of bemusement... a long look - which was also down to a bit of bad timing resulting in Elle asking one of them asking if they had a table for two. That didn't help. He just ignored her, walked past us and went back to his table.

Once the waiter realised that we knew we hadn't walked into the pub-that-was by mistake, he gestured us to take any table (most were empty) and we took our seats.

The menus were quickly forthcoming, and the selection was extensive. It took a little time to take in exactly what was on offer. It was a little unusual in that many of the appetisers were considerably more expensive than some mains. There was also a large selection of non-Bulgarian dishes such as spaghetti bolognese and general meat dishes. If these were given a particularly authentic national twist, then it wasn't obvious.

Always one to try and get as much out of this experience as possible, I went for two of the most traditional dishes I could find. To start I went for the tarator soup - a cold yoghurt and cucumber soup. The waiter warned me that the soup was cold. In fairness, this was made clear in the menu which said it was a "cold soup". I went for the pork kavarma as a main, a traditional Bulgarian stew. The waiter recommended that I didn't need anything to accompany this by way of a side dish.

Elle picked a starter of "fried potato and cheese" - no other description was given although the waiter seemed a bit surprised at the choice. Some of the dishes on the menu were illustrated with a photograph of the dish. This was one of them. Although nothing in the photo was recognisable, it looked good whatever it was. For main she went for Bulgarian grilled sausage.

It's worth pointing out at this stage that Elle asked the waiter for information of several of the mains on the menu, which he was happy to do. But it was here that we discovered that a fair section of the menu was unavailable.

Unfortunately there was also no draft beer available but we did order a bottle of Kamenitza beer each, which is one of the most popular beers in Bulgaria. 

It's usually at this point, whilst waiting for the food to arrive, that I take in, and take notes on, the surroundings. The restaurant, quite sizable, was decorated in traditional Bulgarian fabrics. Some Bulgarian pop music played throughout the evening, and Spanish football was airing on a Bulgarian TV channel in the corner.

The wait for the food to come wasn't too long at all. The soup appeared exactly as I expected it to. Elle's fried potatoes and cheese? Chips and cheese. It was a plate of chips and cheese. I'm guessing this isn't a traditional dish. The waiter's reaction when this was ordered was a little unusual but at no point did he warn us that it was chips and cheese.

I actually realise now that, for the purposes of this review, I forgot to ask Elle how her starter was. I can probably guess. However, if anything was unusual about her starter it was the cheese. It was a kind of grated cream cheese, with a really distinctive sour, bitter salty taste. Like goats cheese but much more intense. Looking it up now, it was most likely sirene cheese - popular in the Bulgarian and in South Eastern Europe in general. So there is some national flavour right there!

My soup was surprisingly good. It was indeed cold. It was also a substantial portion in a deep bowl. The main base of the soup was thin yogurt, with a good helping of chopped cucumber and thyme. Initially I thought I would struggle to eat much of it, but it was very enjoyable and surprisingly light.

Very little time passed before the mains arrived. My kavarma came in a medium sized ceramic pot which was incredibly hot. The stew itself was molten hot. Now I realised why the waiter also gave me a sideplate and a spoon. If it stayed in the pot I'm sure my food would have stayed piping hot until the end of eternity! The stew is cooked in the pot, which was filled with lovely chunks of pork, egg, mushroom and onion in a lovely oily but flavoursome sauce.

Elle's grilled sausage was fairly typical of the region, almost shish kebabesque in presentation. It was presented with a side of chips and some sliced tomato and cucumber. The vegetables were incredibly fresh and ample in portion.

Both meals were a good size, leaving no room for dessert (as is usual). However there was always going to be room for my planned digestif - Bulgarian rakiya. It took a disappointingly long time to be served for dessert/drinks, especially as we had been given the menus again. When we finally got the waiter's attention we ordered a pomorie rakiya each, a popular fruit brandy of the region. It came as a double measure in a small glass and seemed to be extremely strong! Warming as it went down, so say the least! A good way to end a decent meal.

The entire meal and drinks cost £34 which is really good in our eyes. No doubt the Black Sea restaurant is invaluable to the Bulgarian community of East London. But it was the first time we felt any real awkwardness in a restaurant on this project. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, and it was definitely worth the trip.