September 2012 archive
Although I live in lovely Leeds I do take a trip out to dine from to time and my most recent foodie jaunt outside of West Yorkshire was to the Hotel Du Vin Harrogate where I met a friend for an early evening meal.
Hungry as Hannibal in Harrogate
Fresh from a trip to the Malmaison in Edinburgh (where the food was superb) I’d started stealthily tracking down other local hotels owned by the same chain and struck up a conversation with a manager at the hotel who suggested I came and tested out their wares. Well, it would be rude not to really, wouldn’t it?
Now, geographically Harrogate is but a short jump from Leeds, but in meal time terms, the monumental chasm (I feel in this instance the gravity of this phrase is appropriate) between the usual five minute walk home to cook tea and the half hour trip to Harrogate on the train was keenly felt. Simply put, when I met my dining partner outside the Georgian hotel building all geared up to go gourmet I was ravenous and the cold, damp, autumnal weather seemed only to fuel to our shared hunger.
The bistro is situated in a really beautiful building, but i’m afraid we absorbed very little of this as we made our way through the entrance, passed the busy bar and swiftly to the table where we were quickly presented with some lovely warm bread and butter and water for the table.
Lovely warm bread and butter
The comforting carbs soon calmed our wild hunger-stricken eyes and tums and we placed our orders for our starters and main courses. Meanwhile, the bistro’s sommelier came to chat to us because we were obviously looking far friendlier than BC (before carbs) and gave us his recommendation for wine that would adequately bridge both of our menu choices and tastes (he did this rather well, more on this later).
The restaurant wasn’t busy when we arrived but it filled up a little over the course of the meal – mostly with couples dining. The decor in the restaurant is as you may expect – French Bistro-inspired, which seemed to appeal to couples and those out for special occasions. However, as lovely as the candle-lit ambience was, it did make photography somewhat tricky, so I’ll apologise in advance for some of the iffy imagery in this post.
Although we were sat at a window seat (my favourite) the glum weather outside meant we were forced to indulge in a little inside people watching, which in turn led to some serious food jealousy. Most green-eye-inducing was a nearby gentleman tucking into what we later ascertained was a pot of crisp, golden,haddock goujons. Though we had been told at the table what the soup of the day was, we hadn’t been told about other special starters on the menu, this is perhaps because the staff assumed we could see the massive board on the way in. Of course, what they didn’t reckon on was our eagerness to start consuming at any cost and the consequent bypassing of said board.
Our jealous pangs soon subsided when our starters were brought to the table.
Heritage beet salad and goat's cheese salad
I chose a heritage beetroot and goats cheese salad and was delighted with the range of beets included on the plate. A melange of colour, it was a very pretty dish indeed – though I did feel the caesar-esque dressing was a little mismatched to the salad itself.
Chicken liver parfait, toasted brioche and raisin chutney
At the opposite side of the table my dining partner declared her liver parfait “lovely” and got thoroughly stuck into the task of spreading it on her toasted brioche. Perhaps surprisingly, her favourite part of the starter was the raisin chutney that accompanied it. I reiterate once more: condiments make a meal!
Sommelier selected Portugese white wine
Washing everything down was this fruity white Portugese wine with heavy notes of grapefruit, which was a spot on choice from the sommelier. I took a photo because I knew after first tasting I would want to purchase it again and doubted my ability to remember it’s name. My photo turned out rubbish because the lighting suddenly turned very ambient. It is therefore a nameless tasty Portugese wine.
Half Normandy chicken with a jus roti
Craving hearty comfort food I opted for the Half hormandy chicken with jus roti (£14.95) for mains, while the lady across the table selected the lemon sole meunière (£16.75). We decided to share sides of charlotte potatoes with butter £3.50 and wilted spinach £3.50.
For it’s part, my chicken was moist with a deliciously crispy skin and though the jus was a tad too salty for my liking it was still flavoursome. The potatoes proved a fine addition (they were carbs after all), though I was disappointed the spinach came out in a tangled heap that was both difficult to eat and lacked any seasoning, flavour and potentially goodness.
The tasty butter and caper sauce that came with a supersize lemon sole proved the remedy for this not-so-sensational side, with the fish itself exuding many a “mmm” and “aaah!”
Pan fried lemon sole with caper butter
As we moved on to dessert things got even more romantic – the bistro filled up with more couples, the lighting got a little darker and my photographs got so yellow they almost turned into a romantic ‘sepia’. For this reason I have included a photograph of my dessert only, which was an unusual tutti frutti parfait and blackcurrant sorbet. The parfait incorporated fresh, plump,raspberries but the real star of the dish was the blackcurrant sorbet that fizzed in the mouth.
Tutti fruitti parfait with blackcurrant sorbet
The second dessert – Pimms jelly with lemonade Sorbet necessitated the invention of a new adjective, the imaginative “pimmsy”. It was decided though the composition idea was good, the jelly itself was too pimmsy and the lemonade sorbet more sharp than sweet – it lacked the fizz of its blackcurrant counterpart. Though by itself the sorbet was lovely, combined with the very sweet jelly it was a little too much for our savoury-loving tastebuds.
While I dutifully polished off the rest of the wine my fellow diner ordered a cappuccino, which was utterly first class by coffee standards; frothy, tasty and wonderfully warming. With the rain lashing down outside I was a little jealous of this beverage and got to thinking how nice it would be to dine in Hotel du Vin as the snow fell outside and I clutched a similarly season-appropriate refreshment. Instead I was hit with the harsh reality of an after-dinner run to the car, in girl shoes.
This venue is well suited for dining festive dining groups or couples and the fixed price menu – which offered a fixed number of courses from £9.95-£14.95 looks to be really good value. There were a few elements of our meals that weren’t quite as we would have liked, but overall the service was good, the portions were sizeable and the setting was very romantically lit!
Why it took me so long to visit Little Tokyo is a bit of a mystery - I love Japanese food, it’s in Leeds city centre, it’s not an expensive kind of place, it sells carbs. In retrospect it’s probably a previous lack of Japanese carb cuisine-appreciating friends that’s held me back, but that shall bother me no more – for now there is…the gourmette.
The gourmette and I used to work together. We bonded over a common love of all things carbohydrate based – risotto, pasta, pizza and, of course, noodles. Nowadays we no longer share office snacks or exchange jealous glances at each other’s lunch – instead we meet up for carb dates and chat, good, honest, carb-fuelled chat. It was Ms Gourmette who suggested Little Tokyo as a venue for a carb date and I’m superbly glad she did.
Little Tokyo is situated on Central Road, to the rear of House of Fraser, it’s small but perfectly formed. Ms G and I visited midweek and bounded through the door – partially because of excitement, but also because we’d gone for pre-dinner drinks and cockily opted for ‘large’ glasses of wine. We were pleased to be greeted quickly at the door by a waiter with a friendly nature who seated us by a lovely pool complete with mini-waterfall and fish. The water gleamed, sparkled and tinkled. We agreed it was ambient, calming and aesthetically pleasing, and then we raced to the toilet.
Safely back at the table, calls of nature answered, we appreciated the tree in the corner of the room, admired the twinkly lights and ordered a hearty selection of food. Here’s what we ate:
Avocado tempura with wasabi and ginger mayonnaise
Although our attention had been to feast on noodles at the earliest opportunity, I got distracted by the avocado tempura on the menu so we decided to share that as a starter. Unfortunately hunger got the better of me on this occasion and I forgot to note the exact food prices and the Little Tokyo website does not seem to be up to date, but I can definitely define the cost as ‘not extortionate’. I was tempted by the tempura because when I visited Japan many moons ago I decided it was the best way to consume vegetables. I also went through an avocado discovery period about a year ago where I ate avocado every which way, except fried in a light crispy batter, thus I decided I had to rectify this immediately once I spied it on the menu. The tempura did not disappoint – the batter was crisp and the avocado was creamy and fluffy – like some kind of superhero chip. However, the similarly creamy mayo seemed like an odd coupling and could have used more flavouring, we craved a little spice.
We found a little in the ginger and soya sauce that accompanied our gyoza, which were juicy, plump and moist. Filled with sweet spicy pork mince, the dumplings were crisp on the bottom and without a hint of grease.
For the main event we both chose chilli chicken ramen soup, carbs in a bowl in sauce. YES. The broth was flavoursome, the chicken was moist and there were ample vegetables and enough chilli for a good bite. We collectively ‘mmm’d’. The soup was presented in a beautifully decorated red bowl complete with ladle and chopsticks. I’ve been daydreaming about the bowl and soup ever since. Does anyone know where I can buy such a bowl? Ms G couldn’t finish her ramen, but I couldn’t not finish mine.
Chilli chicken ramen soup
Realistically the bowl of soup alone would have filled us and that came in under a tenner, with the whole feast costing a little more than that each. Little Tokyo is a great place for a date or for group get togethers and a group of lads were noisily wielding chopsticks and chatting behind us as we ate.
Now I’ve finally made it inside Little Tokyo I can’t wait to go back. In fact, I may actually force people here for my birthday next month.
I like Saturday Kitchen as much as the next hungover twenty-something – except for that section where they try to make omelettes really quickly – the chefs can tend to get overgiddy, loud and shrill and the closeups of the semi-raw omelettes do nothing for a queasy tum. But there’s a lot to be said for the cuddly reassuring face of James Martin and his ‘classic’ cooking. All very nice.
When I headed out to visit the James Martin Leeds Kitchen recently, my expectations were probably formed predominantly around my impressions of him on this show – the meal I ate should be classic, reassuring and ultimately, nice. Now, I should probably point out that despite putting his name and menu to the small restaurant based in Alea Casino in Clarence Dock, James Martin does definitely not reside in the kitchen. At no point during the meal did I see his cuddly face in the clean and compact kitchen, which you can peek into from the dining area and the street. So, my expectations of friendly reassuringness where probably quite unfounded.
Situated in the front of a casino, the vibe of this eatery is a little strange. It seems to have a fairly consistent flow of diners – unlike many shops in the area – but the ambience lies somewhere betwixt fishbowl and the hangout of an Italian mafia mob. This is the result of the very shiny monochrome decor and the large glass windows that look directly out onto passing Clarence Dock residents, who gawp straight back at you as you munch your way through Martin’s menu.
Strange surroundings aside, the staff at the restaurant made an excellent first impression. After passing through Casino security (extra Mafia vibe points) we were seated at the bar and quickly served some excellent cocktails. It was a balmy summer evening so we opted for a refreshing Mojito, which tasted superb. We were soon guided to a front row fishbowl seat, which I was secretly very pleased about as I love people watching.
The next fairly strange thing to happen was the presentation of the pre-meal bread, which came in a strange pop up sock contraption (not a popsock, just to be clear). Eating bread out of a fabric container really unnerved me; I kept thinking about the process required for washing the gadget, a process that would surely see crumbs amassing into a washing-machine destroying bread loaf with each and every wash. Also, the bread wasn’t great.
In a very rare turn of events, my dining partner and I decided to opt for a main course and dessert because I spied a particularly appealing pudding on the menu early. So, after a quick chat with our knowledgeable waiter and the ordering of some water for the table, we skipped straight to the main event.
Goats curd tart, rocket, pickled vegetables, red pepper sauce
I chose a warm goats curd and rocket tart with pickled vegetables and red pepper sauce (£12.95), which was beautifully presented . My dining partner plumped for the meatier option of Grilled Hayton Grange Farm Pork Chop with braised barlotti beans, feves, majoram and game chips £15.50 and we ordered some triple cooked chips (£3.25) that came in one of those neat carb cubes that chefs love to build.
The tart itself was beautiful – the pastry was buttery and crumbly and the gorgeous filling was oozing and tangy, rich and delicious. The spring onions that accompanied it were buttery and tasty, too. However, I did have a few grumbles – my pickled veg seemed to amount to half a carrot and there was merely a trickle of the sweet red pepper sauce. With the dish being so buttery and rich I could definitely have done with more of a sneeze of the sauce to help things down. The chips were top notch – crispy, light and fluffy in equal measures.
The pork seemed to excite some pleasing noises as it was eaten, though I was unable to photograph it as my dining partner became acutely embarrassed at my enthusiastic wielding of my new camera. Hmm, sad times. The main outcome of the main course was that I am now desperate to eat more goats curd, so I may be following the tips in this article from The Telegraph sometime soon. The excellent pastry also had me gagging for dessert, which signalled a double pastry whammy (and surely heartburn) for myself.
Black cherry tart with cherry and almond ice cream
I’m a huge cherry fan, particularly black cherries, which is why I insisted on a dessert dinner (midweek too, naughty). The black cherry tart with cherry and almond ice cream (£6.25) was just too irresistible. When it arrived, the food was again neat and alluring on the plate, but the sponge itself wasn’t as moist as I would have hoped. Nonetheless, the ice cream was delicious, creamy and fruity and a rare treat for me as I try to avoid dairy.
The non-photographed chocolate and whisky butter pudding with single malt ice cream (£6.25) unfortunately failed to hit the spot. We were told upon ordering that it was James Martin’s signature dish, but as eating it fell to a non dessert lover it was admittedly up against it a bit. Though not a dessert lover, my dining partner is a lover of both white chocolate and whisky and was thus a little disappointed by the overpowering taste of the butter, which overwhelmed the white chocolate and whisky. That said, it was a butter pudding.
All in all, my impression of food at Leeds Kitchen was buttery, sweet and neat. Truth be told, we are becoming rather spoilt in Leeds for what we can eat within this particular price bracket or cheaper. My glorious feast at Hepworth’s Deli and now the arrival of Sukothai in the town centre means we are not short of exceptional mid-priced food choices. For this reason I doubt I will become a regular visitor at Leeds Kitchen, but thanks to the excellent service and beautiful cocktails there’s a good chance I might take the girls there for a bite to eat before a flutter on the roulette tables.
I’m a sometime member of the fabulous Leeds City Centre WI group Buns and Roses (when time allows) and it is this connection that led me to stumble across the following message from a TV producer. I thought I’d publish it here so any fellow bloggers who are better bakers and more camera pleasing than myself can get in touch…I’m sure one of you lovely folk must fit the bill.
P.s if you are launched into celebrity chef superstardom, please dedicate a cake to me in your first book, thanks.
I hope you can help me in my search for a new TV cookery star! My name is Andrew Holland, and I’m a television producer working for a company called Waddell Media, specialising in creating and developing new TV series for the UK television channels.
I’m currently on the search for a new cookery personality. In particular someone who specialises in making traditional “old-school” british sweets and puddings – things like peppermint creams and coconut ices, treacle toffees and home-made fudge.
Ideally I’d like to find someone who has a real passion for this sort of cookery – perhaps someone who lives on a farm – or someone who has their own personal recipes, and a real infectious enthusiasm for what they are doing. There’s no restriction on age or anything like that at all – what I’m concerned with is passion and personality, authenticity, enthusiasm and a genuine knowledge of the subject.
With this in mind it seemed only natural to me to contact the various branches of the Women’s Institute in Yorkshire – one of the last remaining places were (at least in my mind) one can still find great traditional british fare at the drop of a hat!
If you know of anyone who fits this bill – or if you think it might even be you yourself – please contact me either by telephone on 07870 585 889, or by emailing me at firstname.lastname@example.org - as I’d love to hear from you, or to listen to your recommendations. Please forward this email to anyone and everyone you know who might be able to assist me – I’m hoping to discover a new star of the small screen!
It’s a little known fact I am a bone fide Geordie. Thanks to my consistent accent confusion, this is something that is generally only evident if I’ve been chatting to my parents or friends on the telephone or I’ve consumed upwards of six amaretto sours. Armed with this information and the knowledge that I credit the skilled cooks and bakers that are my Mam and Nana for stirring my passion for all things food, it should come as no surprise that the Hairy Bikers are two of my favourite TV chefs and that many of their books adorn my food porn shelves.
When I got wind of their last BBC series ‘The Hairy Dieters’ I must admit that I rather selfishly feared that the guys’ newly svelte but equally hairy appearance might mean that their food had moved away from the flavoursome comfort food that reminds me of home (Mum’s Know Best is one of my most-thumbed cookbooks). Luckily, when I was sent a copy of the cookbook accompanying the series, I was relieved to find that Dave and Si weren’t recommending we all live on salads and water 24/7 (though there are plenty of yummy salad suggestions in the book).
The main messages of the book are some age-old dieting mantras – eat less, move more, curb carbs where you can. All very solid messages, which seem to have worked well for the bearded ones. The book itself is – like the lad’s other books – full of easy to follow messages, with appealing but simple pictures and there are a few motivational words from the guys thrown into the mix.
As it happens, the impending wedding of a friend has spurred me on to lose a bit of weight myself, so I’ve found myself dipping into the book more than I had anticipated. So far I’ve cooked the delicious minestrone soup and the cumin-roasted veg, which is now a favourite side dish. One thing I would have liked to see more of within the book was more carb-avoiding side dishes like this that fill you up good and proper without reaching for the rice.
What I do like about the book is it’s unpretentious nature. Too often diet books talk in jargon and give realistic indicators of just how bloody hungry you are going to be! Another great thing about the book is the fact it’s published in paperback (by Orion, priced £14.99), which means it’s more affordable than some of the other Hairy Biker books and should be accessible to everyone who is looking to change their diet but still wants to spend time being creative in the kitchen.
Speaking of creativity, being consistently bombarded with images of cake thanks to the Great British Bake Off, I decided to cave and bake some cakes. Because I didn’t want to ditch the diet completely, I decided to tweak the Hairy Dieter’s Skinny Lemon Cupcake recipe to make it cow-milk free. Unfortunately I didn’t have a muffin pan handy so they didn’t turn out as light as fluffy as those in the book, but they were still tasty, here are the results (blog post with recipe tweaks to follow):
Skinny lemon cupcakes with lemon drizzle icing
Three months in and my days now seem to revolve around counting down to the arrival and sending of my foodie penpal parcels. So far, I’ve received some really thoughtful and useful parcels and this month’s was certainly a belter, courtesy of my new condiment-loving chum Hannah. One of the nicest things about the foodie penpal scheme is that it encourages you to chat with fellow parcel givers via Twitter and by following Hannah (@Hansyquirk) I discovered we shared a mutual love of all things saucy – specifically the hot stuff, ooh-er.
Having mentioned our mutual appreciation of condiments to Hannah I had very high hopes for August’s package. It was incredibly frustrating therefore when my seriously rubbish concierge Barry missed my parcel’s arrival, which resulted in me having to wait nearly a full week until I could unwrap my monthly treat. Much nail biting was done and Barry was lightly cursed once or twice.
Here’s a litte message from me and Hannah: “GET IT SORTED BAZ!”
Right, rant aside, here’s a peek inside my lovely pink-tissue padded parcel:
Just as I’d hoped, condiment Queen Hannah took my love of sauces seriously and furnished me with no less than three homemade condiments – Bacon Jam, Mango Chutney and Chipotle, CHIPOTLE! So far I’ve only tried the smoky and delicious chipotle, but it won’t be long until I’ve hoovered all three – condiments don’t have a good survival rate in my flat.
In fact, I may run another condiment evening. This involves ovening some perfect condiment accompaniments like chips and bread and inviting friends to bring over their favourite condiment. As a group you then sample sauces and take time to appreciate the wonderfulness of condiments. Yes, I really relish chutneys, ketchup, hot sauce and mustards, mmmm! FYI the winner of the first ever condiment evening was a garlic chutney. I think Bacon Jam could be the contender to beat this time round.
Anyway, back to the parcel. Nestled among the condiments was some Wasabi powder (which can of course be used to create a sauce). There was also some very potent lime and coconut delight, which unfortunately didn’t seem to have enjoyed the trip to the Post Office depot and back (THANKS BARRY). Prettying up the package were some cupcake cases and colourful sprinkles and I plan to use these to decorate the lemon cupcakes I’m making this week from the new Hairy Dieters book I”ve been sent to review (heads up, it’s awesome).
And so concludes my August foodie parcel. Thanks Hannah! If you fancy having a package of wonder delivered to your door each month, click on the foodie penpal logo at the bottom of this page, I’d fully recommend getting involved!