Casa Brindisa

Casa Brindisa (the name comes from the Spanish 'brindis' meaning a toast, i.e. to drink someone's health) is the middle sister in a growing family of Tapas Kitchens: first came Tapas Brindisa London Bridge (opened in 2004), then Casa Brindisa in South Kensington and twin sister Tapas Brindisa Soho (also 2008) and most recently new baby Tramontana Brindisa in Shoreditch (2012). Brindisa founder Monika Linton was established in the import and wholesale side of the business at Borough Market for many years before opening her first restaurant - with encouragement from regular customer Mark Hix.

By the way, if you haven't been to the Brindisa Borough Market shop, what on earth are you waiting for? It's a glorious Spanish Aladdin's cave of gastronomic treats, from Marcona almonds to freshly-sliced ham and boquerones to Manchego. Even the tins and packages look like they belong in Nigella's walk-in larder. It's a dream destination for foodie browsing but if you can't get there - or can't carry all your swag home on the bus - you can order online. If it's not too early for Santa to be listening, I covet the beautifully packaged La Paella gift box at a jolly reasonable £30 - and if you order before 30th November they throw in a seasonings box free! http://www.brindisa.com/store/

Casa Brindisa is literally just around the corner from the museums, on the new-look semi-pedestrianised Exhibition Road; I will manfully (girlfully?) resist my usual tendency to head off at tangents this time, but the design concepts behind this new open streetscape are intriguing. If you would like to take the scenic route, check out the story of the Exhibition Road transformation here: http://www.rbkc.gov.uk/subsites/exhibitionroad.aspx
I had just spent a joyous couple of hours ambling around the V&A with two of my girlfriends and this was very conveniently located for a non-touristy, laid-back quality lunch.

We started with a little bowl of Habas Fritas (toasted broad beans) and a plate of deliciously moreish Padrón Peppers - generously salted little green Galician peppers with just enough kick to go perfectly with our Fino sherry. There is a good selection of wines and sherries by the glass so we had decided to defy the blustery showers outside and recreate a particularly memorable summer trip to Barcelona, which consisted largely of the odd gallery, endless tapas-bar hopping, quite unreasonable amounts of icy bone-dry Fino and long semi-comatose siestas in a hammock.

Next up was a wedge of the Traditional Potato and Onion Tortilla, a dish that makes me marvel at how the most basic of ingredients can be combined to make something so tasty and comforting. Served with a generous swirl of aioli, this was just right - the perfect texture. We had also ordered the Fresh Squid to come with, but it only appeared after gently reminding our waitress; this looked lovely but was perhaps just a little on the chewy side.

The Charcuteria Selection was great value at £12.50 - a selection of chorizo, salchichón, lomo and Teruel ham served with bread and a gutsy green olive oil. The outstanding quality of their produce is most evident here where it stands alone; the ham just melted in the mouth and the freshness and flavours were totally authentic. More Fino was clearly required.

One of my companions is unable to countenance a visit to a tapas restaurant without ordering her favourite Patatas Brava; sadly this was the only dish that really fell below expectations. The potatoes were suitably crisp but lacked the freshness of flavour that had been the hallmark of the meal so far, and although the sauce was good, there was not nearly enough of it.

Fortunately my other friend is a particular fan of spinach in all its incarnations and so we had ordered the Catalan Spinach with pine nuts and raisins. This was the stand-out dish of the day; a really skilful blend of flavours and textures, unusual, perfectly balanced and delicious. My vote had been for the Croquetas de Jamón y Pollo, cured ham and chicken croquetas, which were excellent - crisp outside, with a yielding centre and good meaty flavour, again testament to the quality of their basic ingredients.

As a devoted fan of sharing plates, Brindisa is a definite addition to my hit list and I will be trying the other restaurants - all of which have slightly different menus and specialities - at the next chance I get. The restaurant was full and buzzy on our Friday lunchtime visit and the service, whilst a little patchy, was warm and genuine; our waitress was particularly helpful with a food allergy issue, going off to quiz the chefs about the precise ingredients of the salad dressings. Overall a very welcome way to escape to Spain for a few hours without the torture of Ryanair.

Yours, spiritually still in Barcelona,
Girl About Town xx

British Street Food Awards 2012

This post is not so much my usual suggestion  of what you might like to do at the weekend - unless you have a Cara Delevignesque diary and your next free spot is September 2013 - but more a brief note of thanks and congratulations to Richard Johnson and co. for the awesome foodfest that was the British Street Food Awards 2012.

Together with twizzle-sticks-at-dusk bartenders' shoot-out Ginstock and Rumstock, the British Street Food Awards turned the whole road outside Jamie Oliver's Fifteen into the best 10th birthday party for a restaurant ever. This was an amazing showcase for the range and quality of British street food today, from updated classics like The Fish Hut's cod in ginger beer batter, chips and minted peas to Hungry Gecko's smoked tofu and chilli jam noodles, which was delicious and full of fiery fresh Thai flavours.

The place was rammed, but the British knack for queuing won out; the atmosphere was incredibly laid-back and everyone was having fun and looking forward to trying the food. The queues were long, but after all it would be churlish to moan about the wait when you can watch your food being freshly-cooked right in front of you. This is not sitting on a hot-plate in a restaurant kitchen until the waiter has finished with the next table; this is hot from the wok, the griddle, the wood-fired stove, the . . . well, you get it.

Culinary spectacle aside, mobilers tend to be inherently interesting characters and they - and their vans/trucks/horseboxes - add to the theatre. The Mussel Men were living up to their homophone by accepting arm-wrestling challenges from the public whilst cooking up smoked mussels with heritage tomato and Ginger Pig chorizo sauce - fabulous!

Inevitably, with these kinds of crowds, vendors sold out; I was particularly crushed to miss out on sampling a pork Yum Bun, and one of Katie and Kim's Kitchen's custard tarts, which I actually walked past on my way in and mentally bookmarked for dessert. But this happens - nobody kicks up a stink when bricks and mortar restaurants say they are out of a particular dish, and mobilers don't have the luxury of storage (and often cash flow) that regular restaurants enjoy. I did manage to get hold of a much-coveted Well Kneaded firebread - we went for the goat's cheese, courgette, rocket and Parmesan version with home-made pesto - and amble over to the grassy picnic area to rest my weary limbs on a hay bale.

Congratulations to the winners, the organisers, and most of all the mobilers themselves - the whole event was a great day out and I was delighted to be there amongst fellow foodies.





Read about the award winners here: http://britishstreetfood.co.uk/2012/09/and-the-winners-are/ and follow the individual mobilers on Facebook or Twitter to track them down. I know I'm going to.

Yours, street-smart,
Girl About Town xx

(Da) Polpo Covent Garden

I'm a huge fan of 'sharing' meals across all cultures and cuisines: tapas, dim sum, mezze, I love them all. Not only do you get to try a bigger selection of what the menu has to offer in a generally very affordable way but you avoid the awful spectre of Meal Envy - when, having dithered over the menu for an age, your food arrives and you immediately and desperately wish you had ordered whatever has just been put in front of your neighbour.

In case you've been living on a culinary desert island for the past few years, Polpo is one of Russell Norman's group of restaurants across London based on the Venetian bacaro - a small, homely restaurant more like an Italian tapas bar, based around small sharing dishes and wine by the glass or carafe. Slightly confusingly, as the family has grown they have been rechristened: the original Polpo on Beak Street is now called Polpo Soho, whereas this one used to be Da Polpo and is now Polpo Covent Garden. A new addition has just opened in Smithfield. There are other non-identical siblings - Polpetto, Mishkin's, Spuntino (and apparently at least one more on the way) but I had set my heart on a Polpo, so Covent Garden it was. http://polpo.co.uk/

The Polpo restaurants have been criticised for their reservations policy, or rather, their lack of one. Lunchtime tables can be booked, to cater for business dining, but in the evening it's first come, first served - although you can order wine and snacks whilst you wait. Norman himself is unapologetic, reasoning that his regular repeat customers are likely to live, work or play locally so will be happy to just pitch up and hope. In a recent interview with the Observer's Rachel Cooke, he says 'It does confuse me that people rant and rave about this. If you want to book, choose a restaurant where they take reservations. It's that fucking simple!' Read the interview in full here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/jun/17/polpo-russell-norman-interview

Or of course, if you particularly want to eat at Polpo (which we did), just get there early. We arrived just before 6pm on a Friday night and were seated immediately, so it is possible. There have also been murmurings about the appropriateness of such stripped-back decor, bare filament light bulbs and cosy-to-crowded seating in a restaurant that reached number 25 in the National Restaurant Awards last year. To these people I would say just be happy that there is an affordable, unpretentious, top-class restaurant in Central London where people who don't necessarily want starched tablecloths, starched waiters and the muted tinkle of crystal glasses can eat really great food and enjoy themselves. You're more likely to dine along to The Verve than to Vivaldi at Polpo and it fits the relaxed, companionable vibe perfectly.

Greeted and seated by a friendly member of staff, we started with a Caprese Stack and a Summer Pea and Speck Crostino, priced at £3 each. The crostino was pretty much what I had expected for cicchetti, or snacks; a couple of mouthfuls of crisp base, nice fresh pea topping and a decent-sized curl of meat. However, what I had thought might be a garnish actually turned out to be the Caprese stack. One cherry tomato, a single basil leaf and a small piece of mozzarella barely visible beneath said tomato, on a cocktail stick. I'm sorry guys, but seriously? In what possible world can that be £3? We also ordered a cocktail each - a Limona for me (gin, white vermouth and Limoncello) and an Americano for my companion. These were okay, but not wonderful; having said that, the emphasis is very much on wine here (and they did seem to be training up a new member of bar staff) so perhaps I would just go for wine next time - refreshingly all available in 25cl, 50cl and 75cl carafes for maximum choice.

Somewhat deflated, I awaited the arrival (and size) of the Classic Pork and Beef Meatballs with trepidation. I needn't have worried. Three generously plump and juicy meatballs smothered in an excellently-balanced fresh tomato sauce arrived at the table and I have to say they were superb. Great texture, perfectly seasoned, these were as good as I've had anywhere else - Italy and Spain included - and excellent value at £6. If they hadn't been so filling, I might have immediately ordered the Spicy Pork and Fennel meatballs, which sound divine. The Linguine Vongole was about the size you would expect for a starter portion in a standard upmarket Italian restaurant, tasty and with plenty of clams. 

Perking up again, we decided to try the Spinach, Parmesan and Soft Egg Pizzette, a side plate-sized dish more like a topped flatbread than a standard pizza. This arrived generously piled with delicious fresh cheesy spinach and a wobbly just-poached egg; utterly delicious. Wanting to try one of the desserts, and starting to feel quite full, we opted for the Baked Peach with Amaretti Cream; a halved roasted peach served with a respectable dollop of flavoured cream and sprinkled with amaretti crumbs, a perfect end to the meal.

I wholeheartedly recommend Polpo Covent Garden and will be back myself soon for sure. Portion sizes can vary wildly within the same price range but with some judicious choices this is still great value for money, considering the quality of the food in what can be a tourist trap of a location. Definitely worth an early dinner - oh, and I now covet the cookbook badly. 

Yours, sharing nicely,
Girl About Town xx

Sunshine? Head to the Serpentine!

If we're lucky enough to get an Indian summer this year - God knows, we haven't had any other kind - then make the most of it and head to the Serpentine in Hyde Park.

Created by keen gardener Queen Caroline in 1730, the Serpentine was one of the first artificial lakes in England deliberately designed to look natural with its long, irregular shape. I really think that one of life's simpler and more carefree pleasures is to hire a boat and potter about on the water amongst the wildfowl. Rowboats feel more traditional but don't worry if you don't know your rudder from your rowlocks; simply opt for a pedalo instead and just figure it out as you go. An hour's boat hire costs £10 for an adult - check out times and prices here: http://www.royalparks.org.uk/parks/hyde-park/facilities-in-hyde-park/boating-in-hyde-park

Alternatively let the sun do the work and glide across the lake on the UK's first solar-powered ferry, the Solarshuttle.

If you're in the mood for some posh nosh, the nearby Serpentine Bar and Kitchen serves locally-sourced British food with a modern twist - but isn't cheap. Alternatively, a short saunter around the lake is the slightly less expensive Lido Cafe Bar, just the spot for an equally scenic al fresco lunch and accompanying glass of something chilled (they also have nice loos!) - or most frugal of all, pack a picnic and hire a deck chair to watch the world go by.

Suitably refreshed, mosey on over to the Serpentine Gallery. This compact and buzzy gallery is free and has regular contemporary and modern art exhibitions but is worth checking out for the Pavilion alone. For the last twelve years the Gallery has commissioned a new Pavilion building each year; this year is one of my favourites, designed by Herzog & de Meuron and Ai Weiwei - the team responsible for the architectural star of the 2008 Olympics, the Beijing National Stadium. Chill out in the semi-subterranean depths and experience the strangely muted acoustics of the cork-covered interior; the story of the ideas behind the design can be found here: http://www.serpentinegallery.org/2012/02/ai_weiwei_herzog_de_meuron_serpentine_pavilion_2012.html

Fingers crossed, fellow sun-seekers,





Yours,
Girl About Town xx

Kaffeine

Have you ever stopped to think about how huge the difference in quality can be when you're looking at life's most basic food and drink options? I mean, picture an economy-brand sliced white loaf from your local supermarket; open the thin plastic wrapper and the bread inside is generic, flabby, pale and characterless with no discernible flavour at all. Now imagine an artisan loaf fresh from a real bakery; wrapped in paper, still warm, with a rich yeasty smell, crisp golden crust and a deliciously soft and yielding centre . . . mmmmm. That kind of bread is worth eating on its own - with some unsalted butter perhaps, or gutsy green olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The supermarket stuff is really only useful to stop the inside of a sandwich from becoming the outside.

It's the same thing with coffee. You're standing at a vending machine; you put in your coins, a squat little plastic cup drops into a holder, and a nondescript murky brown liquid is dispensed into it. It could be coffee with milk (as the code you punched in promised), it could be school canteen gravy, it could be puddle water. You take a sip; the temperature pretty much rules out the latter, the rest is guesswork. Or you could head over to Kaffeine in Great Titchfield Street and beg for sanctuary, and an Americano. Rich, smooth, almost chocolatey in its intensity and with enough of a kick to get you right through the day, this is coffee as it should be; done properly, an affordable everyday luxury.

Kaffeine is an Australian/New Zealand-owned independent cafe and takes its coffee, and its food, very seriously. I stopped in on my way back from grabbing lunch so I haven't eaten here yet, although I want to. Salads, sandwiches and pastries all looked fresh and delicious as they were wafted past me to one or other of the cool crowd that seem to make up the Kaffeine clientele. It does have a very relaxed vibe: exposed brickwork, wooden benches, great music and friendly, laid-back staff. It's exactly the kind of place you'd like to hang out in on a rainy afternoon with your laptop, although it is so popular that you'd probably get guilted out by the queue before you were really ready to leave.

My gift to you, my fellow coffee addicts. Because we deserve the best.





Yours, suitably caffeinated,
Girl About Town xx

Superhuman

The Wellcome Collection describes itself as 'a free destination for the incurably curious' which makes it pretty much exactly my kind of place. Part of the Wellcome Trust (eponymous charitable arm of the pharmaceutical giant) the venue is designed to encourage visitors to explore the connections between life, medicine and art. Having really enjoyed last year's excellent exhibition Dirt - a whole lot more interesting than it sounds, trust me on this - I was very much looking forward to the current one, Superhuman.

The subject couldn't be more topical. South African Olympic and Paralympic sprinter Oscar Pistorius is currently making headlines following his shock defeat in the T44 200m final to Brazilian runner Oliveira and immediate public complaint about the 'unfair' length of his rival's blades. He later apologised for the timing, but not the content, of his outburst. Pistorius's point was that the longer blade results in a longer stride: ironically his own chosen blades are shorter to comply with the IAAF regulations that allow him to run in both Olympic and Paralympic events - Oliveira's blades are only legal in the Paralympics.

In a recent interview with the Guardian, Ben Rushgrove (who has cerebral palsy and runs in the T36 100m and 200m) points out the potential advantages that all 'Blade Runners' have over other athletes: 'the blade runners don't have feet so they don't suffer tendonitis or stress fractures. It also means they can train longer and harder than their counterparts. Coaches also say that the blades reduce body fatigue . . . For these reasons it was wrong in my opinion that Oscar was allowed to take part in the Olympics.' 
http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2012/sep/04/pistorius-blades-advantage-in-olympics?newsfeed=true

This concept, that a double amputee with prostheses may actually have an advantage over those we traditionally consider 'able-bodied', is central to the Wellcome exhibition. Aimee Mullins, herself a double amputee and Paralympian as well as a model, motivational speaker and now actress, is quoted as saying, 'A prosthetic limb does not represent the need to replace loss anymore. It can stand as a symbol that the wearer has the power to create whatever it is that they want to create in that space, so that people society once considered to be disabled can now become the architects of their own identities.' 

Mankind has always sought enhancement to improve actual or perceived limitations; few would quibble with the use of a pacemaker or hearing aid, even contact lenses or lipgloss, but how far is too far? The first exhibit is a silhouetted figure of Icarus in flight, mythological poster boy for the downside of pushing the boundaries, whilst in Recorte por la Linea (Cut Through the Line) the artist is filmed standing naked whilst a plastic surgeon marks her body with a multitude of incision lines for potential 'improvements'.
Some items are equally controversial but altogether more bizarre and amusing (to me at least); the wonderfully-named Whizzinator, a strap-on prosthetic penis complete with dried urine sachets, originally designed to cheat drug tests but now marketed as a 'lifestyle choice' accessory, or a nineteenth-century pair of spectacles complete with silver nose made for a woman who lost hers to syphilis. An accompanying colour booklet, available for a £1 donation, covers the main points of each section of the exhibition and also contains transcripts of the Voices videos - experts in their fields talking about enhancements in sport, lifespan, even moral capacity.

If your curiosity is still unslaked the Wellcome Collection also boasts two permanent collections and an extensive library. Book into one of their free guided tours, take home some bedtime reading from the specialist Blackwell bookshop or just chill out with top notch tea and cake courtesy of the Peyton & Byrne on site café. Food for thought indeed.
http://www.wellcomecollection.org/

Yours, incurably curiously,
Girl About Town xx

The Real Food Market

The South Bank is not a part of London which is short on places to eat; wander along the river in front of the Royal Festival Hall and you'll find plenty of decent enough options. However it's the Belvedere Road/Waterloo station side of the Hall where the serious foodies head for lunch or take-away treasures; the wonderful Real Food Market at the Southbank Centre has increased its usual Friday-Sunday slot this week and is now running every day until 9th September to coincide with the Paralympics and the Unlimited festival.
http://www.realfoodfestival.co.uk/markets/real-food-market-at-southbank-centre

The concept behind the market is simple; most of us would prefer to eat fresh, ethically-sourced, high-quality food but end up trudging round a supermarket because we don't have the time to find or visit specialist shops - or the spare cash to pay inflated prices. Real Food Markets bring a wide range of carefully-chosen traders together on a site that huge numbers of Londoners and visitors walk past already on a regular basis.

It's a great idea; good for the suppliers as they have a steady stream of potential customers and good for us consumers as we have convenient access to a variety of affordable, top-quality produce.
There's also nothing like the experience of shopping in a market, especially if you love food. Ambling between the stalls, tantalising wafts of dishes being freshly-cooked, tempting displays of exotic pastries, delicate pastel macaroons or glossy seasonal fruit, and the opportunity to talk to the producers themselves. It's fascinating to chat to the stall-holders; knowledgeable and passionate about what they do, they are usually more than happy to explain the difference between their food and its supermarket poor relation and offer samples and tastes so you can experience it for yourself.

The market sells superior versions of the staples of your weekly shop such as artisan breads, cheese, cured meats, vegetables etc. alongside prepared dishes from diverse cultures; paella, curries, hog roast, burgers, pierogi, arancini. . . you're bound to find something that hits the spot.

Those with a sweet tooth will also be spoiled for choice. Brownies or biscuits? Crepes or churros? Artisan chocolate or freshly-made ice cream? Try a bit of everything and wash it down with a hand-pulled espresso or a hot chocolate.

Or how about this for taking pop-up restaurants to another level? Consultant, presenter, writer, chef, restaurateur, music fan and all-round foodie genius John Quilter has a Food Busking pitch at the market; much like the musical version there is no set price, you pay what you think the dish was worth. Usually found coaxing musicians into surprisingly natural and open conversations at festivals via the medium of food, on my visit he was shucking oysters and knocking up a seafood pasta for an appreciative crowd.
http://johnquilter.com/

Come along, support the concept and producers of Real Food, and grab yourself something seriously good to eat.




Yours, newly addicted to Food Busking,
Girl About Town xx

Celebrate a Secret Wedding

Occasionally I like to take a break from eating and drinking my way round our beloved capital or wandering round one of the many galleries and museums and show a bit of initiative. Inspired by the history of this amazing city, I search out the sites of its tales and secrets. Here is the first story; are you sitting comfortably?


On September 12th, 1846, a studious man of 33 married a woman in delicate health six years his senior at St Marylebone Parish Church. The wedding was secret, as her father had forbidden her (or any of his twelve children) ever to marry; afterwards she returned to the family home alone and lived there for a week while arrangements were made before eloping to Italy with her new husband. Her father never spoke to her again and the many letters she wrote to him were returned unopened.

The marriage of poets Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning was the culmination of a romance that had been conducted mainly through love letters; they corresponded for almost five months before their first meeting and had exchanged 573 letters by the day of their wedding. The original letters are at Wellesley College in Massachusetts but digitised images and transcripts can be seen online here: http://digitalcollections.baylor.edu/cdm/compoundobject/collection/ab-letters/id/1966/rec/1

St Marylebone Parish Church is quietly beautiful, with carved wooded pews and moulded ceilings; standing before the altar it is easy to transport yourself back to Victorian London and empathise with the conflicting emotions and divided loyalties of that marriage over a century ago. There is a service at 11am on 9th September organised by the Browning Society to commemorate the day or you can visit the Browning Room, a small room off to the left just inside the door of the church, which has a small stained glass window dedicated to the poets. It is usually kept locked, but if you let them know you are coming they are happy to arrange a suitable time for you to view it. 

During this time Elizabeth wrote her 'Sonnets from the Portuguese' ('Portuguese' was his pet name for her) which trace the joy and doubts of their courtship, although Robert Browning had to convince her to make them public. They include probably her best-known poem, 'How Do I Love Thee?':

'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.'

Elizabeth Barrett Browning died in Florence in 1861. In a letter to a friend her husband wrote: 'Then came what my heart will keep till I see her again and longer - the most perfect expression of her love to me within my whole knowledge of her. Always smiling, happily, and with a face like a girl's, and in a few minutes she died in my arms, her head on my cheek . . . God took her to himself as you would lift a sleeping child from a dark uneasy bed into your arms and the light.' Browning returned to London with their son, never remarried and would not return to Italy for seventeen years. He died at his son's home in Venice in 1889 and is buried in Poet's Corner in Westminster Abbey.

Somehow, I just don't think showing my future grandchildren texts and tweets will be the same.






Yours, missing the romance of old-fashioned letters,
Girl About Town xx