Grenada - home cooking

 

I was particularly enthused by our renewed committment to the "A to Z of London Restaurants" project, and was keen to tick the next country off the list as soon after the prior Greek restaurant visit as we could. A two and a half month gap is a definite improvement on two and a half years!

However that enthusiasm was fairly quickly dampened when the preparatory research began. For some reason I didn't expect to find a problem locating traditional Grenadian food in London. But I was wrong. After identifying a handful of traditional, fairly exclusively Grenadian dishes it was then a case of finding a restaurant or food stall serving such dishes. I could only come across one "defintiely" Grenadian restaurant, which unfortunately seemed to serve only pan-Caribbean dishes (patties, bakes, jerk chicken and curries). And of the other pan-Caribbean establishments in London, of which there are many, nowhere seemed to sell anything particularly Grenadian.

The bar I had set myself was oil down. The national dish of Grenada. If I couldn't find it served, I'd cook it myself. Easy? Not quite. The next hurdle was sourcing the key ingredients. One of which was new on me. Breadfruit. Given the fact it was the first time I'd even seen the word, I was fairly sure this wasn't something I could easily get my hands on.

In the end, it wasn't as tricky as first thought. I was assured I would "probably" find it at Caribbean market stalls in Brixton or Shepherd's Bush (areas with a sizeable Caribbean community). I also realised I could buy it tinned. Normally I would always go fresh. However, there was a great degree of "maybe" about sourcing a real breadfruit. Also, not an excuse, but I really didn't have the time to wander around markets looking for something I still wasn't really sure wasn't a myth in this country. 

Oh look! Six tins for £16 on Amazon. Buy now.

It was pretty clear when trying to find a good authentic recipe that, like many national dishes, there are many varations of oil down, which no doubt would differ from family to family, and neighbourhood to neighbourhood. I deliberately chose a recipe that brought together the mean average of ingredients of all the other recipes I came across.

There was however one key ingredient that I already decided I was going to miss. Pig tails. I had absolutely no intention of sourcing, cooking or eating anything close. If that immediately disqualifies this as anywhere near an authentic replication of the national dish then I'm absolutely fine with that.

So, to the kitchen. Green seasoning is another new one on me, but apparently very common and widespread in much of the cooking across the Caribbean. Rather than buy ready made, I decided to make my own. This was a mistake.

It was actually reasonably easy to put together. I combined in a bowl the following: 6 stalks of spring onion, 4 twigs of fresh thyme, 7 fat garlic cloves, 5 pimento peppers, a small handful of coriander leaves, 1 large onion, a handful of fresh parsley leaves, an inch cube of ginger, teaspoon of dried chilli flakes, and a tablespoon of vinegar. I then used a hand blender to blend everything together until it became a nice paste. Which it did quite nicely, leaving me a really nice bright red green seasoning. Very ungreen.

Even just looking at that again makes my heart sink. I bought red pimento peppers. Which completely dominated the colour of my "green" seasoning. I had no doubt it was still going to taste pretty epic. But I feared for the overall look of the final dish.

Anyway, onward. Rather than chicken on the bone, I used six boneless chicken thighs and covered the thighs in the red green seasoning, placing this in the fridge for now while I prepped all the rest of the ingredients.

After that I added one and a quarter tins of coconut milk to a bowl, added 2 teaspoons of ground turmeric, and blended this until the milk was an even colour throughout. Then coated chicken (plus all the remaining red green seasoning) was added to the bottom of a heavy cooking pot, along with 250g of the tinned breadfruit (cut into chunks), 1 unripe banana (sliced), 2 carrots (sliced), 250g pumpkin (chopped), 100g okra (sliced, from frozen), and some salt.

I then poured the turmeric coconut milk into the pot, and covered the contents of the pot with 70g of spinach. Lid on and cook over a medium heat for 25 minutes. The pot shouldn't be stirred while cooking.

When there's about 10 minutes left of the 25, its about time to make some dumplings. Really basic ingredients. 120g of flour. 240g water. A dash of salt. This is my nightmare. I cannot do anything which involves flour, baking, consistency... Even when I follow the instructions to the letter, it all goes terribly wrong. The very same happened here. So Elle had to step in to turn my mix of slop into about a dozen pinkie-finger-sized long dumplings. When the timer was up, I added these dumplings to the top of the pot contents.

The pot was then re-covered, and cooking resumed for another 45 minutes or so. Again, stirring should be avoided.

Forty five minutes later, the dish is ready to serve. I originally panicked about the amount of liquid still in the pot... I was expecting just a little left at the bottom. I tried to boil some off originally, but started to worry about overcooking the dish. So I served up the dish as it was, onto two plates, and provided a copious amount of bread to help with the sauce!

It turns out the bread was barely needed. The sauce thickened up really nicely on serving, and had a really rich, luxurious consistency to it which came as a surprise. Also, on presentation, I was quite relieved to see that the initial utter redness of the dish before cooking wasn't quite so prevalent now. In fact, comparing my final dish to other photos of oil down online, it didn't look too far off at all.

As for the food itself: This was a really wholesome, flavoursome dish. A kind of stew, which to me seemed more suited to a cold, winter night in the north of England than a hot, steamy Caribbean nation. But it was a lovely mix of meat and veg. The chicken was perfectly cooked and had taken in much of the flavour of the sauce. The breadfruit added a really nice consistency and "stodge" to the dish, as did the dumplings which ended up much firmer and more dense than I had expected. But this was no bad thing.

There was a really pleasant underpinning spiciness to the entire dish. Not too much at all, but definitely making itself known.

The spinach seemed a little lonely to me. The spinach did what spinach does. It largely disappeared. So its presence during eating was quite sparse, to the point I questioned whether I should have increased the amount I used. Maybe even doubled.

Overall despite the failure to find a restaurant, the stress over acuqiring breadfuit, the ballsing up of the green seasoning, and the horror show that was the dumpling slop, this didn't turn out to be the unmitigated disaster I thought it would be. It was a really tasty meal. One I want to try again, but either properly in a restaurant or food stall somewhere in this country. Or maybe we'll just have to visit Grenada and try it for real on home turf.

Greece - Andy's Greek Taverna

 

Restaurant:  Andy's Greek Taverna

Address:  23 Pratt St., London, NW1 0BE

Date of visit:  23 July 2023

Time of visit:  7pm

I was anticipating the Greek restaurant visit for a while, knowing that London would have a wealth of excellent options. To the point the prospect of researching and choosing just one restaurant was originally a little daunting. However, by chance, I happened to walk past Andy's Greek Taverna on one of my regular trips to Camden. I was immediately impressed by the cuteness of the corner cafe, and by the masses of people inside and out. A quick look at reviews online as I passed made up my mind. We had to make this our Greek stop.

So we returned on what was a lovely, sunny Sunday summer evening. I booked a table for 7pm several days in advance using The Fork (https://www.thefork.co.uk/restaurant/andy-s-greek-taverna-r719957) and arrived right on time. 

I had only ever seen the restaurant from the Bayham Street side, and assumed that the "corner cafe" made up pretty much all of Andy's. So to the corner we went, which was surprisingly very quiet, with no music playing. Almost abandoned, including lack of staff. It took some time before someone emerged from the enclosed kitchen area. We told him we had booked in advance, and he took us out of the corner cafe, and to next door to the adjacent unit on Pratt Street. Which was clearly the main restaurant. Who knew?!

We found ourselves in a lovely, inviting environment, full of diners with not-very-discreet traditional Greek music playing. Much more of a restaurant feel than the corner, with a choice of tables. We didn't have to wait long for the menus to come. We ordered a bottle of the house white wine, which was Italian, rather than Greek, in origin. We had mulled over the menu in advance and had pretty much already made up our minds. But we still spent some time to check it over again in the restaurant environs.

The menu is really impressive. Plenty of cold and hot starters for not much more than a fiver, which is incredibly decent. The vast majority of the mains are between £10 and £15. All the traditional Greek dishes you'd expect to see, with descriptions. A plentiful selection of seafood and vegetarian dishes too, although we tend to overlook those due to personal tastes! There are also some excellent value Set Menu options, which were very tempting.

Someone else came to take our food order. We were served by almost all of the waiting staff at some point in the evening. The service was very friendly, light-hearted and actually quite banterful. These guys clearly enjoy what they do!  Elle and I ordered the "Chef's Mixed Grill" starter to share. I opted for the stifado for main, and Elle went for the moussaka.

Time to take in the atmosphere. The music was quite loud. It wasn't offputting for us, we quite enjoyed it. But I could definitely imagine someone else potentially taking issue with it. The simple solution would have been to move away from the speaker, but there was no need for that with us. The interior was very blue. Almost nautical. Probably helped by the massive photo of a gorgeous Greek island landscape looking over our table. 

The restauant was by no means fancy, but also more than just a cafe. The tables were basic, with comfortable soft blue chairs and plastic benches. It was a very pleasant place to be, with absolutely no pretences. It really stuck me as the kind of place where the most attention goes into the most important things - the food and the service.

When the starter arrived, it initially didn't look to be particularly large (keeping in mind the prices are very decent). But in the end it was absolutely perfect, leaving you very eager for the main dish. The mixed grill was made up of halloumi, loukanika (Greek pork or lamb sausage), lountza (salted, smoked grilled pork tenderloin) and pastourma (beef sausage with wine and black pepper). The starter also came with a basket of bread.

The sausages were very flavoursome indeed, aided by the taste of the grilling process. The lountza almost had the appearance of a thick slice of straight forward bacon, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing! It was still excellent, as was the halloumi. The bread was very fresh and fluffy. We originally regretted not getting some kind of dip for the bread, but there ended up being enough goodness on the plate to use with the bread. The vegetable accompaniment - tomato and cucumber - was also very fresh and complemented the dish well.

Our attention once again was on the service. In a good way. This was a very well run place. The team of waiting staff were absolutely on it. Very polite and in no way invasive, but very swift to take away empty plates and attend to any needs. It was quite impressive, and no doubt one of the reasons this restaurant is so widely loved.

Then the mains arrived. This was a sight to behold.

I was already excited about this. We have been on several Greek holidays in the past, and stifado quickly became my favourite Greek dish, and I was therefore very hopeful about this. When my eyes met the content on the plate I'm sure my heart started racing. I could see the most incredibly substantial chunks of beef, luscious rich thick gravy, and amazing looking roast potatoes, all garnished with herbs. And I have to say, this dish was abslolutely exceptional. Defintiely the best stifado, and best Greek meal generally, that I've ever had. And one of the best main dishes on this project so far. The beef was melt in the mouth soft, but so beautifully flavoursome, the gravy matching it perfectly with a wonderfully balanced presence of cloves throughout. Those potatoes were something else... perfectly roasted and well looked after. A truly perfect meal.

It's hard not to be utterly impressed by this substantial wedge of layered goodness that is the moussaka. I actually really wanted to see the "mothership moussaka" from which this came. That must have been some sight! Again, generous is the word that comes to mind. It was packed full of layers of really succulent minced beef, and thick creamy bechemel sauce, which was perfectly baked at the top. A superbly tasty dish, and quite easy to see why this has won awards.

It also arrived with a very fresh, delicious side salad of tomato, cucumber, red onion and feta, drizzled with olive oil.

We need to go back to the potatoes.

I don't know how they get potatoes to taste like this. But they were some of the best I've ever had. We ordered more.

Surprisingly, despite a very decent dessert menu offered, there was no heavy sell. In fact, the question was never asked. Plates were cleared (typically swiftly) and we were left to enjoy the rest of our wine without interruption. In fact, it was a little bit of an effort to find someone to let us pay the bill. We geninuely could've spent all night in there. And we would have been happy to do so.

If all the above wasn't good enough, we received a free amaretto shot each on paying the bill.

I'm not sure if I've said this often through the years of this project, but we'll definitely be back here again. A very memorable visit.

Ghana - Connie's Authentic Ghanian Restaurant

Restaurant:  Connie's Authentic Ghanian Restaurant

Address:  85-87 Woodgrange Rd, London E7 0EP

Date of visit:  8 August 2021

Time of visit:  8pm

The previous restaurant visit on this project was made on February 2020. One month later, like the rest of the world, the World of London Restaurants project stopped.

I made a determination that we weren't going to resume it until life was as back to normal as possible. I needed the restaurant experience to be exactly the same as it was pre-Covid. In August 2021, we were finally there.

Next up we headed to East London to a Ghanian restaurant sandwiched between and behind two shops on Woodgrange Road. As such we were greeted by a long passage, marked by a big "Connies" sign above, and walked into a fairly sparse cafe/restaurant space. As we fully expected this definitely appeared to be a community eating spot and not somewhere that often received first time vistors who have travelled across London to be there!

Nonetheless, the waitress was quite attentive to our arrival, inviting us to sit at a table, to which she very promptly brought menus. Already we felt welcome and could tell the service was friendly.

The menu looks pretty decent, but it was clearly not aimed at the uninitiated due to the lack of descriptions of the dishes. Nothing a crafty Google search can't help with. There was no table service at this restaurant, adding to the "cafe" vibe, but it was made clear in a friendly way that we had to order at the till. Elle paid the full amount when she ordered, reinforcing a cafe versus restaurant vibe. As such, there was no service charge added to the full total.

Elle opted for the kebab to start (it was simply listed as such on the menu). For me, it had to be the deep-fried turkey tail. Definitely not being stereotypically Scottish. More intrigued by the revelation that turkeys had tails, which I don't think had ever dawned on me! 

For the main meal we both went for the chicken jollof, which definitely seemed to be the signature dish. A popular West African dish of baked chicken with rice cooked with tomatoes, garlic, ginger and spices.

And to drink, we each had a 625ml bottle of Star beer, from Ghana.

The service at the till was very friendly, with the waitress trying to upsell and offer us some palm juice for the table.

I love the waiting. This is when we simply take in the sights, sounds, smells, conversation and everything else that hits our senses. There was a mix of local Ghanian music playing in the restaurant, and the sound Sky Sports Cricket being shown on a TV at one end of the restaurant. A few families were dining during our stay, which meant some kids running around, but it wasn't really an issue. And one point the kids waved at me emphatically, ensuring that they were seen! The slight blip of annoyance was when one of the boys cranked the tunes up on the massive boom box in the corner to the max! 

The starters arrived, with the turkey tail arriving with a bowl for the discarded bones, and no cutlery. So this was clearly one to eat with the fingers! The chopped tail pieces were topped with raw onion, with an incredible hot salsa to the side. The turkey was fatty, but there was a surprisingly good amount of turkey meat to find. The meat was very dry but very tasty, going perfectly with the hot sauce.

Elle's kebab probably wasn't quite as interesting to look at. A single skewer which wasn't particularly large. But it wasn't particularly expensive. It was served with some kind of ground spice on the side. It wasn't particularly clear what the spice was. Perhaps just chilli powder. But the real mystery was trying to guess what meat was on the skewer. We never did reach a conensus on that.

As for the main course. RICE. So so much rice. I hope the photo above does it justice. That was one extremely generous, densely packed, ball of rice. It was very clear that this meal was probably more about the rice than the chicken. The chicken was chopped and on the bone, which made it a little cumbersome to eat. Still very tasty and in a rich spicy tomato sauce. 

That rice though. It was dense and had a chewy consistency to it. Purposefully. It was cooked to perfection and had an amazing real deep spice which added so much to the flavour and the experience. It was incredibly moreish and a real pleasure to eat. The chicken felt like a side show.

We were only a few minutes into eating the main before we realised that we really shouldn't have ordered starters! But the main was so enjoyable that we pushed ourselves to finish it.

Getting up out of the chair was going to be problematic. Thankfully, the chilled vibe in the place ensured that we knew there was no rush to free up our table. Somehow we did eventually manage to get up, and get out. Very full and very satisfied.

Sadly, it's taken me so long to write this review (absolutely no excuses for a nearly two year delay...!) that Connie's is no longer trading, and in its place a "new ladies saloon" called Club Diamondz. A sad loss.

Germany - Bierschenke

Restaurant: Bierschenke

Address: 4 London Wall buildings, Blomfield St, London EC2M 5NT

Date of visit: 1 February 2020

Time of visit: 7.30pm



The impending German restaurant visit had been on my radar for quite a while. It was quite clear what kind of venue we were going to visit, as German restaurants in London are pretty much limited to Bavarian-style beer halls. Absolutely fine by me, don't get me wrong! But I also wanted to make sure we picked one which had a good selection of well rated food.

It came down to one of the two Bierschenke venues in London, and we chose the one near Liverpool Street Station solely for convenience.

We booked ahead, with it being Saturday night. When we arrived at the restaurant we walked into the bar area, and there was no real indication of where to go. And no one to give us that advice. So we followed to the sound of people having a good night, which was downstairs. There, we were greeted by the bouncer which wasn't really of any help to us. Eventually, the waiter came, asked our name, and walked us to a table.

As you would expect from this kind of venue, personal tables per couple or small groups isn't how it works. The seating arrangement was rows and rows of communal benches. I was reminded of Japanese restaurants like Wagamama.

The music played in a Japanese restaurant would have been more German than what we were hearing when we walked in to this place! Authenticity was pretty much on point until we heard the cheesy English-language pop that was being pumped out!

So there we were, sitting, waiting, listening to The Vengaboys. What happens next? That was anyone's guess. Eventually, we managed to get the attention of a waitress (who, to be fair, was run off her feet). She came back to us, laid out two menus on the table, and asked if we had been served yet. All good things to do, just in the wrong order. The service was sharp and abrupt. Matching the frantic nature of the kind of night I'm sure she was having, but not a experience for a couple of diners who have recently arrived.

She went away to let us study the menu... for ten seconds, when she came back to ask us what we wanted to drink. She also asked us to open a tab. I'd understand the need for that if we were a group of lads drinking all night, but for a couple clearly out for a meal it seemed a little unnecessary. But we played along, and opened the tab by ordering a pint of Hacker Pschorr Hefe Weisse and a glass of Chenin Blanc.

The drinks came very quickly, brought to the table by what seemed like a dedicated barman. The waitress was very close behind him and came to take our food order. We asked for a few more minutes (a recurring theme in this blog...!) and the waitress all but rolled her eyes at us, and walked off clearly annoyed at that. Elle and I both instantly checked with each other that we both just saw the same thing!

More often or not when we ask for a few more minutes in a restaurant, that's it for about ten minutes. You've missed your slot. No difference here. So we started to take in the environs. It wasn't particularly busy, especially for a Saturday night. But it also seemed that we had been sat away from where there was a party going on - at the far side of the restaurant there was a group of about thirty people, making a lot of noise but clearly having a good night.

Suddenly, it all got very German!

A four-piece Oompah band marched out in front of the bar area and started to play. This felt like a crucial missing piece of the evening, and really added to the experience! All that was missing now was the food...

The waitress finally came back to take our order. We both went for the Leberkase - Bavarian beef and pork loaf with two fried eggs, mash and gravy. The waitress took the menus away, including the extensive drinks menu, which was going to make adding to the tab all the more difficult.

It was a little bit of a wait before the food arrived, but much of that wait was accompanied by the sound of live traditional Bavarian music, so it wasn't too bad.

The food eventually arrived, and it looked every bit as good as I had hoped. Sliced meat loaf topped with two fried eggs, a substantial portion of very buttery-looking mash, and some deep dark gravy.

The meat loaf was really good. Very easy to eat. Very tender and very tasty. The fried eggs were runny, which isn't usually something I enjoy, but for some reason it really added to this dish and worked well with the creamy buttery mashed potato. The gravy was very thin, and not substantial in volume. But somehow it seemed to be the perfect amount for the overall dish, incredibly rich and topped off what was a really enjoyable wholesome dish.

The night felt like it was back on track, but it was let down again by the remainder of the service. The venue had run out of all wheat beers by 8.30pm on a Saturday night, just as it was starting to fill with the "Saturday night out" crew. I went for a dunkel instead.

It was a real struggle to get anyone to give us the bill. And when they took our card away to take payment, which we're never comfortable with, it was a mission to even get our card back!

Overall the service was very hands off, inattentive and generally unfriendly. The quality of the food and drink was high. Granted, this isn't a restaurant in the traditional sense. But if you're going to provide table service, then that should come with the very basics of good customer service. That was lacking on this occasion.

Georgia - Iberia Restaurant

Restaurant: Iberia Restaurant

Location: 294-296 Caledonian Rd, Islington, London N1 1BA

Date of visit: 5 October 2019

Time of visit: 8pm

I was quite surprised to find that I had a choice to make when it came to deciding which Georgian restaurant to visit in London. I had clearly underestimated the appeal and market for Georgian cuisine in the capital. I was then fairly confused by the fact the most favoured restaurant that popped up during my research was called "Iberia". A quick bit of reading answered why - the important thing is that the Caucasian Iberians are not related to the "Iberians" of Spain and Portugal.

After reserving a table for two via the website earlier in the week, we turned up at Iberia just after 8pm on this Saturday evening.

We stepped into the intimate restaurant, to find two waitresses both very much engaged in serving other diners. We were greeted by one of them, and we advised them that we had a table for two booked. She gestured to the general space in the restaurant and asked us to choose a table, rather than be taken to one. To be fair, that's ok with us. She was busy. We're more than capable of doing that bit ourselves.

The menus came very quickly, and seemed very similar to the menu on the website. But a little pricier on the night than online.

It's a very impressive menu, offering a wide selection of hot and cold starters, breads, main courses, fish dishes, sauces and extras. Everything was presented with the name of the dish in transliterated Georgian, with the English description below.

When it came to ordering, there was nothing in the way of a Georgian beer option on the menu, so I opted for the closest thing they had which was the Russian lager Baltika. And was told they had none. So I had a bottle of Heineken instead. Elle would normally have contemplated the wine, but it started at £6.50 a glass. On the plus side, it was imported Georgian wine, but still too much for one glass. And a risk at that. So she too opted for a Heineken.

We seemed to hit a turning point here. From this point on, the level of service seemed to change. It became a bit more attentive and warmer. To the point Elle and I discussed, quietly, if we'd been "rumbled". Did they know we were there to review the experience? We always try and avoid giving that away. Anyway, we'll take it!

We were then asked for our food order. First we went for a shared hot starter option, imeruli khachapuri - flatbread stuffed with Georgian cheese. For my main course, I asked for tsitsila adjikashi - spatchcocked fried spring chicken in spicy hot sauce served with baby potatoes. Elle opted for the garlic version of the same dish, chqmeruli.

This was a fairly small restaurant with a lower section and an upper section, both hosting a handful of tables. We opted to sit in the upper section. The layout of the restaurant actually reminded me of our visit to the Donde Carlos restaurant in Shepherd's Bush when we reached "Colombia" in this project three and a half years ago.

It was a very comfortable environment, and cosily decorated. The walls were adorned with dozens of kantsi horns, tradition Georgian drinking horns, The music was really good too. Elle was particularly enjoying the chilled vibe of the music - a mix of Georgian pop and covers of English language tracks - all quite soulful, until it stopped. Then started again. Then skipped to something else. Then stopped again. And started again. And stopped. And repeated. For the entire duration of our visit. It seems to completely escape the attention of anyone else in the restaurant, especially the waitresses. But it was quite distracting.

The bread came fairly quickly, and was a little uninspiring at first glance. It was fairly small, and cut into quarters. Not very well fired, or particularly cooked looking at all. For me, a Scotsman, almost like a large uncooked potato scone. On eating though, it was very tasty. Well stuffed with at least two types of cheese - one was a cheddar-like cheese, and another quite like goats cheese. With it being cheese-stuffed bread, the two quarters were quite satisfying. Especially as a starter

The mains also came in good time, and these looked impressive! Albeit deadly... the ceramic pots were insanely hot, of which no warning was given. Again, the portion didn't look particularly big, but the contents looked exceptional. You could almost taste it with your eyes - as a spicy dish, and for a spice lover, the colours in this were perfect and very encouraging! And the flavours were fantastic. The spice kick was really intense, and went really well with the other flavours. The chicken was cooked to perfection, but with it being spring chicken, the bones were really something to contend with. And something I completely forgot about. It was a laborious task at times, and had I remembered this at time of ordering I might have actually opted for something else. But then I would've missed out on what must be one of the finest dishes on their menu. The potatoes were very useful for mopping up the remaining chilli and herb sauce, and soaking up the broth. Not a huge amount of potatoes in there, but still good to have.

As mentioned, Elle's dish was basically the garlic version of mine. And it was as fiercely garlicky as mine was intensely spicy. Comments on the chicken were the same as mine - tasty but troublesome. Elle seemed to be left with more broth in the bowl than I was, but mine did seem to have a thicker mixed sauce generally, compared to Elle's crushed garlic and herbs, with chicken broth below. Portion size was on par with mine... small but mighty.

With two meals containing hundreds of tiny bones, it was necessary to have somewhere to put these bones. There was nowhere else within these small dishes that they could be safely "discarded". So Elle asked one of the waitresses (the more nervous, less assured of the two) for a "side plate for the bones". The waitress returned with two pepper shakers. It's awful, but we both laughed. Quite a lot. Not at the waitress, of course! Just at the situation. I was amused that it was Elle being misunderstood for a change (it's usually me). We apologised for our reaction (no offence seemed to have been taken, which was a relief) and Elle tried to explain again. The waitress queried if we were asking for salt. The other waitress (the more confident, assured of the two) overheard this back and forth and explained in Georgian to the other that we wanted a plate, which came straight away. (At one point later, Elle accidentally dropped a knife on the floor, which was almost instantly picked up and replaced).

Our final impression of the restaurant was that it was fairly pricey for what it was. It was high in quality, but definitely could have done with a touch more quantity. The food itself couldn't be faulted though. It was fantastic. Unfortunately, it lacks some finer touches. The service was just odd at times. Inconsistent - either really good, or really lacking. And to have music that plays for no longer than 20 seconds before stopping and repeating, for hours, is entirely avoidable and really quite unforgivable. Clearly the back of house is in good order here. The front of house needs some work.

They're on Uber Eats. Just do it that way instead.

Gambia - home cooking

Not for the first time, this particular meal started with a fail. The research process to find a restaurant or food outlet that served Gambian food was fairly fruitless. At best all I could find were pop-ups, which at that moment in time none had popped up anywhere. But I did find a handful of listings and reviews for a food stall in East London called "The Gamby Shack". I even found Facebook and Instagram pages for the place, which was encouraging. You'd think I would've messaged ahead to make sure they were definitely open. Or at least checked recent activity on the aforementioned pages. Alas...

Of to Netil Market in Hackney we went, on a fairly hot midsummer's afternoon. Netil Market is actually easy to miss, tucked away between two long, not particularly interesting streets. It's also considerably smaller than I expected. And very quiet when we arrived. We took a walk around the dozen or so food, drink and retail stalls on the ground level, but no Gamby Shack. But there was a real feeling of plausibly missing the food stall on the first try, so we swept the stalls again. And again. No Gamby Shack. Then we noticed some wooden stairs, from where chill-out music was emanating upstairs. Up we went, to find a few seating areas, and a little wooden shack. Hosting a radio station, Netil Radio. Not West African food.

We went back downstairs to give the market one last sweep, but also to buy a couple of drinks at one of the stalls. We asked the guy serving the drinks if he knew where The Gamby Shack was. He confirmed there was no such place in the market, and didn't know if it was ever there as he only started working there last week.

We went back upstairs with our drinks, sat outside Netil Radio listening to their tunes and half-asleep DJ, and researched social media to the degree I should have done before the visit. And then discovered that the Gamby Shack disappeared a few months earlier. Fail.

We spent the rest of that afternoon and evening in East London, so it wasn't a completely wasted day. The following week, I did some research to find a traditional Gambian dish we'd enjoy. Then I headed to the kitchen...

One standout meal during the food research was Domoda. A Gambian peanut stew. This wasn't the first time a peanut-based meal came up in this project, as it's a common ingredient in some West African meals. But there was one ingredient that set this ahead of the rest. Scotch bonnet chillies. I was sold!

The process started by cutting 500g of chicken breast into half inch chunks, and browning this in 60ml of peanut oil. This is just browning - the chicken didn't cook through. It'll do this when it simmers with the rest of the ingredients.

Next up was bringing to the boil 1 litre of vegetable stock with two tablespoons of tomato puree, then adding 2 thickly sliced carrots, 130g of sweet potatoes, and two chopped Scotch bonnet chillies (wear gloves!).

While the above simmered slowly, I sauteed 2 large diced onions and 3 minced cloves of garlic and added this to the pot. Finally, in went a bay leaf, some salt, and the final, most important, touch - 130g of smooth peanut butter. 

This needed a good stir, mostly to ensure the peanut butter thins and the whole sauce becomes consistent with no blobs of peanut butter. The browned chicken was added at this point, the pot covered, and the whole thing simmered for 45-50 minutes, adding water when needed.

I served this with white rice. Although it was technically a stew, it definitely felt more like a curry. And it was absolutely exceptional! One of my favourite dishes out of all the home cooked meals in this project. There's absolutely no denying that a large part of that was the spice. This had a real kick to it. Nothing too intense, but it was a serious hit. (If that level of spice isn't your thing, I'd recommend omitting one of the two Scotch bonnet chillies). But the rest of the flavours where amazing too. The chicken, onion and garlic together with the spice hit, and a very flavoursome but still delicate, sweet and salty peanut flavour made this pretty unique and really quite gorgeous. The chicken was also cooked perfectly, showing why the browning process was so important, to keep in the moisture and flavour.

As much as I would have enjoyed a meal on a wooden bench outside The Gamby Shack on that Sunday afternoon, I would have missed out on this fantastic meal which, thanks to cooking for far more than two people, also became lunch and dinner the following day!

Gabon - home cooking

I was a little disappointed to not find a restaurant in London offering Gabonese dishes. Unofficial figures have the number of Gabonese in the UK overall at around 300 or so. As such, there isn't a sizeable ex-pat community to serve. I did check several pan-African restaurants to see if any of those served Gabonese cuisine, but I drew a blank. So it was back to the kitchen.

I had fairly quickly settled on a dish after just a small amount of research. Nyembwe chicken. Spicy chicken with no unpalatable ingredients. And ingredients I wouldn't struggle to find. Or so I thought...

As soon as the words "smoked chicken" actually sank in, I panicked. Smoked chicken isn't really something I've seen. Particularly in my local supermarket, which is where I source almost all of my ingredients (for various reasons, mostly time constraints). And I wasn't even going to entertain the idea of smoking my own chicken! I may have given it more thought if I hadn't also spotted another difficult ingredient - okra. I don't have a good relationship with okra, after a dish I cooked some years back. Back then, despite following all the instructions an okra curry came out as a gloopy, sticky-but-razor-sharp mess. 

So I dug around some more for an alternative.

Another chicken dish popped up several times, which was a good enough reason to go for it. Gabonese mustard chicken.

It was an interesting proposition. A large amount of Dijon mustard was a major part of this dish, which relates to Gabon's history as a former French colony. The addition of lemon juice also added a tropical element to the dish.

I started with searing around 400g of seasoned and cubed chicken thigh meat in vegetable oil until brown, then set this aside. In the same pot I then fried two chopped onions and 3 cloves of garlic (minced) for five minutes or so. 

I then returned the chicken to this pot, along with around 150g of Dijon mustard (which seems like too much, but don't worry), and the juice of one lemon. I brought this up to a simmer, covered the pot, and let this cook slowly for around one hour.

I served this meal in a balti dish with white rice. On eating, it was a really flavoursome meal. The lemon was very tangy and almost overpowering, but not unpleasant at all. It added a real twist to the dish. It was surprising how much of it came through. Not so much for the mustard. Despite almost a whole jar being dolloped into the pot, it was actually very delicate. You knew it was there, but only just. The onion complimented the whole dish nicely, especially as there was a good amount in the dish. With that amount, and how slowly the dish was cooked for one whole hour, the onion reduced nicely to add to the sauce. And the chicken had taken all these flavours mentioned above very nicely. Melt in the mouth, succulent chunks of chicken.

All in all, a very interesting and flavoursome dinner. 

For some reason though,  I knew at the research stage I wasn't going to be happy simply cooking this dish alone. Maybe it was too similar to the types of dishes I cook on a regular basis, with similar procedures to making a curry - something I'm known to do often.

Something I don't do often is dessert, but something had already taken my fancy. Baked bananas - a common dessert in Gabon and much of Africa.

This was a very easy dish to prepare. I bought four bananas, peeled them and cut them each into three pieces. Rolled the banana pieces in a mixture of 2 tablespoons of orange juice and 1 egg, and then rolled on a plate of plain breadcrumbs until covered. Then I fried the banana pieces in medium-hot oil until the breadcrumbs browned on all sides.

Then the bananas were transferred onto a baking tray lined with baking paper, and baked in the oven at 180ºc for five minutes. To serve, I placed the banana pieces on a plate, sprinkled with brown sugar, and topped with sour cream.

Unfortunately, I was so eager to eat this I completely forgot to photograph the end result! But I'm sure you can imagine. I was surprised at how the banana really stiffened up when cooked. For some reason I expected it to soften. It was an incredibly filling, almost stodgy, dessert. The sugar was crunchy, as was the breadcrumb coating. The texture contrasted well. The sour cream worked really well, and added a little extra sweetness to the whole thing. Thankfully, it wasn't particularly greasy or oily at all, which was an initial fear. It was a struggle to finish just because of the density of the bananas (and the fact I cooked/served a double portion each!).

All in all, this was a very good two-course Gabonese meal.

France - The Little French Restaurant

Restaurant: The Little French Restaurant

Location: 18 Hogarth Street, London, SW5 0QY

Date of visit: 10 February 2019

Time of visit: 6pm

From one extreme to another. After failing to find restaurants for the previous two countries in the project, how on earth do you chose a French restaurant in London?! Fairly quickly the criteria to help choose a restaurant was decided. Cost. It's far too easy to spend an absolute fortune when dining French in this city. It's not as easy to do it at a more standard price.

But it also had to be authentic, as always. We whittled it down to two options. Brasserie Zedel, near Piccadilly Circus. And The Little French Restaurant in Earl's Court. Both were decently priced, the former surprisingly so. I was leaning towards the latter, and Elle's thoughts decided the matter. Zedel was too "corporate" (Elle's word) and "obvious and touristy" (my words). The other restaurant was smaller, independent, and - to be honest - closer to home. And the menu looked as authentic as anywhere else.

We arrived just after 6pm. Actually, closer to 6.05pm. The restaurant opens at 6, and I didn't want to be walking through the door as they were literally unlocking it. Regardless, we were the first diners to be welcomed through the door that evening, but only by a few minutes. As such, we were greeted straight away. We pre-booked, and after giving my name, we were given the choice of any of the tables in the restaurant.

Shortly after we sat down we were handed menus, next came some sliced baguette and butter, and after a few minutes were asked for our drinks orders. Very prompt, very friendly service so far.

I tend to go for beer when dining out, wherever that may be. However, the menu has a very non-descriptive, generic entry of "Beer" for £3.50. No indication of what beer, and if it was a glass, pint, bottle or can. In any case, wine felt like the way to go. We were in a French restaurant, we might as well enjoy a bottle of French wine. The house wine, of course.

The house wine arrived, was opened, was tested, and poured. It was Italian. A good wine, for sure. But it was as French as Paolo Nutini. (I need to get one of these into every review now...)

A few more minutes passed, a few more diners had arrived. The waitress came to take our order. There was a very attractive three-course set menu offered within the main menu. A starter, a main and a dessert for £16.50, which was less than buying most two-course combinations. The selection was also very decent - offering the majority of the options from the main "a la carte" menu. Curiously, this was a cash only deal. I can't for the life of me work out why. But in any case this was well signposted.

I went for the French onion soup to start, and coq au vin d'Alsace for main.

Elle opted for smoked chicken and mushroom wrapped in pastry for starters, and chicken supreme farci duxelloise for main.

As suggested by the name, the restaurant is indeed quite small, although I did appear to have an upstairs section too. It's a very charming environment. Cosy, helped by the dim lighting and soft music. Not massively comfortable - the chairs and benches are hard wood with no padding - but certainly not uncomfortable.

The music policy was interesting. We went from a French chanson to Dire Straits, to a French standard, followed by Daft Punk (also French, granted). There was quite a funny moment when, of all French songs that could have come on, "Je t'aime... moi non plus" by Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg started to play. If you think you don't know it, you do. Think French audio porn. Banned by the BBC (probably). A few seconds later the waitress decided it wasn't right for groups of strangers to listen to together whilst eating, and skipped the playlist to the next track!

To the food...

My French onion soup definitely looked the part. There was no doubt as to what it could be, served in a generously sized bowl. Deep brown, with an island of crouton and grated cheese in the middle. The soup was thick with ample slices of soft onion. The crouton (singular) didn't seem to soften in the soup in the slightest, which was no bad thing - I enjoyed the contrast in consistency. Although it's the traditional serving suggestion, I was somehow surprised to find cheese in the soup, but it worked well. The only thing that let this course down was that it was nowhere near hot. It was between lukewarm and warm. I'm not one to complain, although I'd imagine most other people would have flagged this up and asked for it to be heated up. I always just deal with it. Just the way it is. But I have no doubt that if I had flagged it up, it would have been dealt with swiftly and with apology. In any case, the soup was very tasty, helped by a generous dose of cracked black pepper.

If you hadn't seen the menu, you could have been forgiven for thinking Elle had ordered a samosa with brown sauce as a starter. The chicken and mushroom mixed with aioli mayo came encased in a triangular pastry shell. It was a decent starter... not exceptional, but decent. Pretty much as you'd expect chicken and mushroom in pastry to be. It was served on a generous helping of bordelaise sauce - a red wine and shallot sauce - with a small side salad. The dish was served as hot as you'd like.

It's probably the most predictable choice I could have made, but before I'd even looked at a menu I had pretty much already decided that I'd go for coq au vin. It's one of the most traditional of French dishes, and a safe bet. (To be fair, if beef bourguignon was an option, I'd be writing about that now...). This was listed on the menu as the "d'Alsace" variety. I wasn't really sure what the difference was at the time, but a quick look online now suggests that it might mean it's cooked in white wine, as opposed to red. But, as the photo above suggests, that was almost certainly not the case.

Anyway, I certainly can't fault the portion here. This was a very good sized piece of chicken, which was cooked perfectly. But clearly some time ago. This dish was served even cooler than the soup, which was really disappointing. And again, very poorly, I decided against raising the issue. The deeper I got into the chicken, the warmer I found the meat. Unfortunately the sauce the chicken was served with was long since lukewarm. The sauce itself wasn't particularly flavoursome, but I think that may have been more the dish itself than the way it had been made. I'm much more of a spice man, and this - along with much of French cuisine - was at the very other end of the spectrum. The chicken was topped with a good helping of bacon, the saltiness of which complemented the chicken and the sauce very well. And there was a good few, very tasty mushrooms around the chicken.

It was chicken and mushroom twice for Elle! But this time in a different formation. And the presentation was on point here - this looked like a really attractive meal, if a little on the small side. Chicken breast, sliced into four pieces, with a duxelle stuffing - mushrooms, shallots and herbs - served on dijonnaise sauce. This was a very tasty course, the stuffing in particular. But with the portion size here, it was a good move to order a side dish of French fries to share, which made this up to a main meal.

We decided on our dessert options after the first two courses. I'm not really a dessert man, nor do I usually have space for anything more than ice cream after two courses. So I went for the ice cream. Elle opted for the apple pie with cream. She got apple pie with ice cream instead. Unlike me, she did (quite rightly) raise this with the waitress (I, quite wrongly, would have left it again...) and the waitress very quickly rectified the issue, and was very apologetic. The cream came in a small dish, and was of the "skooshy" variety, as opposed to single or double cream.

The bill came quickly after asking. There was a slightly confusing aspect - the bill claimed 10% service was included in the final total. But after doing some maths we found that wasn't the case at all. I hope this isn't a mistake they make often, as they could be doing themselves out of a substantial amount of money.

I'm aware that a fair amount of this review is quite negative. And I don't like that. This is a restaurant very worth visiting. It's also well reviewed and rated. Maybe the issues mentioned above, particularly with the temperature of the dishes, was just symptomatic of a bad night. And maybe I'll man up a bit and actually politely raise issues when things aren't as they should be. That's the only way the restaurant can avoid them in the future.

Maybe it was the half bottle of wine each, but leaving the restaurant and stepping back onto Hogarth Street was almost like walking into a Bordeaux boulevard! (I'd imagine. I've never been.) It's a very small, cute, narrow, cobble-stoned street with small restaurants and cafes. And a big pub directly across the road. That was our next stop.