Chile - El Vergel

Restaurant:  El Vergel

Location:  132 Webber Street, London SE1 0QL

Date of visit:  30 January 2016

Time of visit:  2.15pm

Without going back and checking all the previous reviews, I think this was the first visit that took place at lunch time. Every previous restaurant visit for the blog was a dinner visit. The reason for the early visit this time is that El Vergel is the only permanent establishment in London which serves Chilean food, and the latest the restaurant opens is 4pm. And that is on Saturday only.

A Chilean lunch it was. El Vergel is hidden away in a myriad of small streets between Southwark and Borough stations. The restaurant itself makes up part of the ground floor of what looks like a fairly new residential development. From the outside, the restaurant is easy to miss. There is no real signage. It also doesn't look particularly big.

But once you get inside you find yourself in a large, spacious high ceiling room with many long rows of tables, and a fair bit of hustle and bustle. The restaurant was surprisingly busy this Saturday afternoon, with many families (complete with screaming kids) and a large number of staff. Only a few tables were free.

We made our own way to a table, clocking the attention of a waitress on the way so she knew we would need serving. And this she did right away, with two Saturday brunch menus and - surprisingly at 2.15pm - the breakfast menu.

All menus are scanned and available on their website, so we had a good idea of what to expect and what we wanted to order in advance. We chose from the Saturday brunch menu, which was a collection of meat and vegetarian appetizers, traditional Chilean steak sandwiches, tostadas, tacos and a great selection of salads. The back of the menu offered a selection of soft, hot and alcoholic drinks, and fruit juices and smoothies.

Not too long after we received the menus the waitress came back to take our order. Elle and I went for identical options - an empanada de carne to start, followed by a traditional Chilean churrasco queso. And a glass of Chilean Sauvignon blanc. The waitress also offered salsa and chilli with the order, which we accepted.

Looking around the restuarant, the interior was quite impressive. Spacious, rather rustic in appearance - lots of unfinished-looking surfaces, written graffiti on pillars, stone floor. The restaurant was clearly family friendly, judging by the cluster of parents and children at one side of the restaurant, the provision of beanbags and the likes. The decor was vibrant and colourful. The kitchen was open and busy.

We didn't have to wait long for the wine, which came in small glass tumblers (the likes you used to get at school).

Shortly after this, the empanadas came. And as expected, they appeared as most meat pasties would. The pastry was nice and soft, with a good filling of great tasting meat and onion. It seemed quite fresh, but clearly heated up. We topped the empanadas with the contents of a small dish of chilli salsa, which added a nice kick. The one downside with the empanandas was the addition of olives, which Elle picked out (and I ate).

The restaurant was well staffed. They were attentive, but not in your face. Our waitress came back after the starter to ask if we had received our steak sandwiches yet. Which we hadn't.

Five minutes later, they came. Not massive in size, but what was inside looked fantastic. The bread itself was billed as "home made village bread" - a round, thin but doughy sliced roll. Firm on the outside, lovely and soft on the inside.

The beef was thin, lean and beautifully cooked. It was surround by generously thick wads of soft, melted cheese sprinked with fried onions, topped with fresh sliced tomatoes. There was a thin spread of chilli paste inside the bread, which gave the sandwich a serious kick.

The sandwich was hugely satisfying - lovely flavours, and just the right size. One of the best steak and cheese sandwiches I've ever had.

A fantastic two course meal with glass of wine each for less than £14 each. Definitely worth revisiting if we are in the area.

China - Yipin

Restaurant:  Yipin

Location:  70-72 Liverpool Road, London N1 0QD

Date of visit:  21 November 2015

Time of visit:  7pm

Only once before on this project have Elle and I been joined by anyone else, when Miles and Jen came for a Brazilian meat fest last year. This time round my friend Laura and her boyfriend Ian came down from Glasgow and near enough insisted they became part of the project! Of course they were more than welcome. 

This time round it was time for China. One of the many countries which takes a bit more thought than the rest. I'd imagine there are probably more Chinese restaurants in the UK than those of any other country, maybe after India. So I wanted to make sure we went for something more specific than a generic Chinese restaurant that does a regular looking menu, and those familiar Chinese chips (almost as consistently similar as McDonalds' fries are, wherever you go!) 

China is a huge country, made up of many distinct provinces all with their own quite unique cuisine. Most of the four of us are quite into our spices, so it came down to choosing Hunanese or Sichuan food. Thankfully, there is a highly rated restaurant in Islington which specialises in both. Yipin China, near Angel station, was listed in a Time Out list of top ten Chinese restaurants in London, and judging by the menu on the website I could see why that would be the case. 

It's quite a nondescript looking venue, off the main road, with fairly reasonable prices which made me hopeful that it would be a quite authentic experience. We arrived just after 7pm and were greeted at the door by a waitress, and taken to one of many free tables. The restaurant was very quiet at this point, maybe surprisingly so for a Saturday evening. 

Menus were brought to the table very quickly, and looked similar to the website menus, including the pictures, but the selection on the printed menus was much larger. Each dish was illustrated with a photograph of the meal, which was very helpful in helping to gague what appealed to us the most. The selection and variety of dishes on offer is hugely impressive. 

The waitress returned quite quickly to take the drinks order, which consisted of three Tsingtao lagers and a soda water and lime. Unfortunately they didn't have soda water, so sparkling water came instead. After some deliberation, the food was ordered. I went for numbing and hot sliced beef to start, Elle opted for the ribs, Ian chose spiced black fungus and Laura decided not to order a starter but eat most of Ian's. For mains, I went for the fantastically titled fragrant chicken in a pile of chillies, Elle picked the boiled beef slices in an extremely spicy sauce, Ian went for seabass topped with salted fresh chillies and Laura opted for the roasted crispy pork belly. All this, plus three portions of egg fried rice. 

Oddly, all the food - appetisers and mains - came at the same time. We didn't contest that, but it did lead to a bit of a crowded table at the start! The fact that an additional dish that no one ordered appeared didn't help this, but I'm glad to say the waitress quickly took this dish back with no fuss when we flagged it up. 

The appetisers section in the menu mentioned "cold starters" synonomously, which I wasn't sure was true or not. Maybe something lost in translation? Nope. Two of the starters came cold. Much of China is intensely hot in the summer, and despite ever prevalent spice in much of the food, it is served cold to help aid dealing with the hot weather. The effect was lost on us on a bone-chillingly cold Saturday night in North London, but it was a new experience nonetheless. 

My sliced beef was incredible. A heavy pile of beautifully tender thinly sliced beef, topped (and on top of) a massively flavoursome selection of chilli, salt and garlic. The whole taste experience was magnificent, and it was my favourite item on the table. The fact it was cold took nothing away from it. In fact, I couldn't imagine it being any nicer if it was warm. I was so glad with that selection. 

Elle's starter was the only one that came warm. The pieces of ribs were much smaller than she was used to, meaning slightly more difficult eating, but the meat and flavours were excellent, and no fattier than normal ribs.

Ian's black fungus also came cold, but looked the part. Again, I couldn't have imagined it warm. The fungus itself had a really good texture, soft but slightly crunchy at the same time, which would have been lost if it wasn't cold. The flavours of the chilli complimented the fungus well, with a real garlic punch too.

Onto the mains. I think my chicken and chillies won the award for the most impressive looking dish. On first glance, the volume of meat and chillies looked a bit ridiculous. Particularly the chillies. However, on further experience I started to realise that the chillies weren't really for eating. The were very tough, almost dried. They clearly played a part in the cooking process, but now they were just for decoration. It was all about the pieces of chicken in between. The bowl was full of quite small pieces of seemingly deep fried chicken, which had taken on the heat of the chillies fairly well but was nowhere near as intense as I had expected. In fact, the meal was quite dry so I was quite glad I had a good bit of the chilli and garlic sauce from my starter, which I then worked into the main. A really nice meal, but if I had known what it was in the end I may have gone for something else.

Elle's beef looked quite impressve, with a lot of oily sauce. The beef, having been boiled, was very soft but this also left a lot of the fat around the meat. I've watched Elle sit for ten minutes peeling the fat from a bacon sandwich leaving just a thread of meat, so I can understand it when she said she found it quite chewy and difficult to eat. Despite that, the flavours were nice. Almost too intense though when it came to the number of peppercorns, which she also discarded.

Laura's pork belly was the only one I didn't really try. I've actually never tried pork belly before. She said it was very authentic, and was really happy with it. The texture was extremely soft, "like fatty panna cotta" according to Ian! I did however try the sauce that the meal came with, which itself was also full of meat. We think it was little lardons of pork which had a slightly firmer consistancy but led to a really wholesome meaty dish.

Ian was the only one to go for seafood. The menu had a fantastic seafood selection. The seabass was laid out in two fillets, topped with the chopped salted chillies and sauce. The fish was extremely delicate in consistancy and taste. It almost melted in the mouth. Despite the delicate flavour, the chilli sauce and other flavours - although stronger - didn't overpower the seabass.

As we worked our way through the dishes, the very attentive waitress was very quick to remove empty dishes and plates from the table, without getting in the way. The service overall was some of the best we've received for some time.

Unfortunately there was a fair bit of wastage. Not to do with the quality of the food, but due to the very generous portions and the fact we completely overestimated how much rice we needed.

As the evening went on the restaurant got busier, maybe just more than half full by the time we left.

All in all three starters, four mains, three sides and four drinks, plus service, came to just under £100. £25 per head, which is more than reasonable for the quality of the food and the service. We left very full, very happy customers. This restaurant is highly recommended.

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.