Over the years there has been talk between friends of going back to dine as members of the bar in a strange and overly formal way of reliving times gone by. It’s never happened but then a few months ago I received an email from Australia. A friend of mine had been a Solicitor and then converted to the bar. He had been called and signed an undertaking to do four further dinners but had forgotten and moved to Australia to practice there. The Inn caught up with him and one expensive flight later, he was back in London for a week to do his dinners back to back. After some gentle persuasion and an offer to buy my ticket I found myself at queuing up to wear a gown and sit down to dinner.

Tonight’s menu of asparagus soup, tuna, duck and a chocolate pudding promised much but would it deliver? Shortly after I sat down a waitress offered me a glass of sherry. I had noticed that unlike at Middle where you had a water and wine glass here I had sufficient cutlery and glassware to last me through a short nuclear war. Sherry, water, red, white and port; with little care and attention this could easily turn into a fuzzy night and a painful morning. I accepted the glass of sherry and noticed that whilst I got a Fino, others had what looked more like an Oloroso. Just after 7pm the Benchers arrived. At Middle you stand and they enter the hall. At Lincoln’s they have a separate entrance at the top of the hall (by their table) from which they are announced, bow to the room, the bow is returned and they take their seats.

Soon after the first course arrived. Large tureens of asparagus soup were placed in the middle of each mess (group of four diners) and inevitably a small and discreet argument broke out as to who would have to serve the mess without breaking most of the glass and flinging soup at a Bencher. Resolved I tried the soup. Before I begin talking about the food, I must say that I am mindful of the fact that there were 250 or so people there. This was mass produced food and so some concessions must be made. That said when making food on such a large scale it’s incumbent upon the chef to think about what’s being sent out. The asparagus soup had a very definite flavour. Sadly that flavour was tinned asparagus. I suspect that fresh asparagus for 250 people would have been rather pricey so why not instead serve a soup made with cheaper fresh ingredients?

Next a large dish of tuna with noodles appeared. The noodles were soft with plenty of crunchy vegetables but the tuna had been cooked to within an inch of its life and was dry and leathery. With no sauce to moisten it, it took a few gulps of rather acidic white wine to prevent my mouth from coming to a dry stop. Cooking tuna all the way through should be a capital offence.

The main was duck with mustard mash, green beans and a calvados sauce. Duck is a fine meat that should either be cooked long and slow so that it falls apart or high and fast so that it’s blushing pink. This was neither and took all the finesse I could muster with a blunt knife to prise away the gelatinous fat and then hack away at the rubbery, dry meat. The calvados sauce was sharp and alcoholic stripping away a layer of mouth. At least the mash and green beans were okay. The juicy ripe South African shiraz was a welcome relief.

Pudding was a piece of chocolate cake topped with a chocolate crisp and sandwiched together with ganache. The raspberry sorbet was crunchy and just the right mix of sweet and sharp. The chocolate pudding was excellent and wouldn’t have been out of place on the menu of a mid-level restaurant.

The port came and I had a small glass before the cheese followed. It was debate night at Lincoln’s and given that I didn’t need to stay (the students did in order for the dinner to count) I took my leave and slipped out into the cold November night.

I left wondering why the chef felt the need to create such a complicated menu that was exceptionally difficult to execute on a grand scale and the pudding aside, wasn’t. A simpler menu crafted to satiate large numbers would have almost certainly been appreciated by all. Granted it wouldn’t have allowed the use of fancy French terms to describe each course but the students would have been happier. As the legal world chugs into the 21st century, perhaps it’s time for food at the Inns to follow.

Ideally I’d persuade everyone that Heston Blumenthal is right and that chicken should be cooked on the lowest temperature that your oven will function at for 3-4 hours but let’s be realistic, we don’t all have the time or patience to do that. Instead, I’m going to focus on two tips that will make a difference.

Brining

Brining a chicken makes it juicer and imparts flavour before it even reaches the oven. Start by taking a large bowl that is big enough to hold your chicken covered with water and will fit in your fridge. To make the brine, pour in 500mls of water, a handful of table salt, a tablespoon of sugar, the rind of a lemon, two crushed garlic cloves, a bunch of parsley and some thyme, a few peppercorns and the juice of half a lemon (save the other half for later). If you have the time, bring the water to the simmer in a pan before you adding the salt and sugar as it will help them dissolve but if you do this, you have to let it go cold before you put it over the chicken. I don’t usually bother as some vigourous stirring will achieve the same effect. Next, put the chicken in the bowl breast side down and top up with water. Cover with cling film and put it in the fridge. Brine for a maximum of 6 hours.

Take the chicken out of the brine at least an hour before you want to roast it. Drain the brine (keeping the herbs and garlic) and pat the chicken dry with kitchen paper. Gently (really, really gently) prize the skin away from the flesh and put some butter between it the two. Flavour the butter with some garlic and herbs if you want. Take the herbs and garlic and put them in the rear cavity. Add the reserved lemon half but cut into 2-4 pieces. If you put in large bits of lemon it will restrict the air flow through the chicken.

Potatoes
I’ve tried many different varieties and the good old Maris Piper seems to be the best. Choose potatoes of roughly the same size, or those that can be cut to match the others. Top and tail the potatoes and then peel carefully so that they retain their shape. Make a single horizontal cut through the middle so that you end up with two half barrel shapes. This gives them a large flat base which will crisp up and a rounded top that will catch the heat. The next bit takes some bravery. Par boil the potatoes in salted water until they are almost falling apart. Too much and you will have mash, too little and they won’t break up at the edges and have some ‘fluff’ to crisp up. Drain the potatoes and return them to the pot. Shake the pot to create these fluffy edges and leave them to dry out a little as a result of the residual heat.

Cooking the chicken and potatoes
Use two separate roasting trays and ideally two separate ovens. Why? The oven drives off lots of moisture as it cooks the potatoes which is the opposite of what you want your fan oven to do with the chicken which is to impart lots of dry heat. If you don’t have two ovens, the answer is two separate roasting trays with the chicken below the potatoes. I’ve started to use a good quality non-stick saucepan with a metal handle instead of roasting trays because they conduct heat evenly but that’s a personal preference.

Heat a layer of oil (or duck fat from some duck confit) in the roasting tray / pan that the potatoes are going into. 10 minutes with your oven up at full whack will do the trick. Take the pan out and if it can be used on the hob, put it on (again as high as the stove will go) and with a pair of tongs, put the potatoes in, turning them in the hot oil so that they are covered in a thin film of it. Rest them flat side down and get them into the oven quickly. Turn the oven down to 200c. They’ll take an hour turning them once half way through.

Put the chicken in the other tray / pan with some onion and carrot to act as a trivet and improve your gravy. Drizzle with a little olive oil and then salt and pepper. If you do it the other way round, you’ll just wash the seasoning away.

How long should you roast the chicken for? Firstly, ignore the time on the packaging if your chicken came from a supermarket. If you follow their times your chicken will almost certainly be dry and tough. Having gone to the effort of brining it, that would be a huge shame. Instead, buy a meat thermometer and use that instead. As a guide, a 1.5kg chicken should take an hour. The strict required temperature is 75c but your chicken will be pretty dry by then. As long as you aren’t serving it up to little children, pregnant women or those with a delicate constitution, I’d suggest 60-65c as being sufficient.

Knowing that the potatoes take an hour, put the chicken in the oven at an appropriate time, allowing for it to rest of 15 minutes as a minimum before carving. 30m is even better.

As a final point, resist the urge to open the oven save where you have to. Every time you open it the temperature plummets and it takes 5 minutes with the door closed again to get back to roasting.

Finishing the chicken and potatoes
Your chicken should now be resting on a board. Take a piece of foil larger than the board and turn up the edges before putting the board on it. This will catch all of the chicken juice that might run out even after a proper rest. You can then make your gravy or if you’d rather something a little zingier, I’d recommend a vinaigrette instead.

Five minutes before the potatoes are done, scatter a handful chopped parsley, thyme and garlic over the potatoes and mix carefully. The herbs will spit and pop in the hot oil but you’ll instantly get a beautiful perfume of garlic and potatoes in your kitchen which will infuse into the potatoes for their final five minutes of cooking.

Serve with a green salad or your favourite veg. It doesn’t have to be traditional veg to go with a roast. We’re quite partial to steamed corn on the cob at the moment.

I admire Jamie Oliver. Yes, he now sounds like a parody of himself on TV, yes he’s cried when parents on both sides of the pond reject his attempts to make their kids healthier and yes those adverts for Sainsburys are awful. But look beyond that for a moment and you’ll see someone who genuinely cares about the causes he promotes. There have been telling moments in his Channel 4 shows where he thinks of new ventures as “the 33 mortgages that depend on me” or the genuine desire he has to make the next generation less dependent on awful processed food.

Jamie (I don’t know him, but feel I can use his first name) has changed the cookery book market. No longer would people buy a cookery book, coo over the beautiful food but ultimately reject the idea of spending their entire Saturday making ‘Poulet aux champignons et trois sauces magnifique’ but instead they bought a Jamie Oliver book and made things. In the late 90’s and early 00’s, “It’s a Jamie Oliver recipe” became a popular phrase until it was muscled out of the way by the brash brigade of shouty and sweary SuperChefs™ who started to use the phrase pejoratively. I still use his books for inspiration and whilst I adapt his recipes to my own taste I suspect that’s what he wants, whereas Chef Shouty would probably box my ears in if I dared to improvise.

I hadn’t been to any of his restaurants so when a friend of mine suggested that we have lunch at Barbecoa this week I was keen to go. The reviews have been mixed with some criticising the food whilst others query the high prices even by City standards. The restaurant is tucked away on the first floor of One New Change opposite the yet to open Gordon Ramsay restaurant. On the ground floor there is a shopfront that looks like it will eventually be a standalone butchery but was empty on the day I visited. I was warmly welcomed at the door and my coat and bag taken from me. There is a bar as you enter behind which is the kitchen and service area. The tables are arranged along the left hand side of the restaurant with the area getting bigger as you walk past the kitchen area. The tables are well spaced and even those furthest from the huge floor to ceiling windows can see out into the city.

This was to be a quick lunch so no starter and no wine. We both had a Diet Coke and I was instantly disappointed that it had come from a fountain. At £2.50 for a small thin glass this really is penny pinching. Soft drinks from a fountain have no place outside fast food restaurants as they produce nasty watered down versions of the real thing. I thought we’d moved from the point where I’d have to ask in a restaurant whether they used a fountain but perhaps not.

The staff were friendly and asked if we had any questions about the menu. I ordered the ‘Short Rib with Worcestershire glaze, Irish Champ and Watercress’ (£20), my friend ordered the ‘Pulled Pork Shoulder with coleslaw, bbq sauce and jalapeno cornbread’ (£16) and we decided to share a portion of ‘Duck fat chips’ and ‘Curly kale with rosemary, anchovy and garlic’ (£4 each).

The pulled pork was rather good. Slow cooked pork that melted in the mouth with a barbecue sauce that had the right mix of sweet and smokiness. The cornbread was authentic if a little light on jalapeno. Sadly, it wasn’t mine. I had ordered the short rib.

There was perhaps an expectation gap between what I had expected and what arrived. It looked impressive enough; a large short rib still on the bone, with an attractive burnished appearance that sadly belied the dry tough meat inside. I was expecting (and wanted) the heavy glaze on the outside. This was after all barbecue. Inside however, I expected to see soft pink meat that had been cooked slowly and yielded gently as I cut into it. Instead it was tough, brown, dry and flavourless. All of the flavour was on the outside where glaze adorned the meat. The inside had been cooked to oblivion and had no discernable taste. The champ was buttery and provided some moisture for the meat but it couldn’t replace the lack of flavour. Was I supposed to eat the watercress? I ask because I appeared to have been given a single piece that if unfurled would have covered the table.

What of the sides? The chips were crisp and served with a lovely red coleslaw that didn’t have a cloying mayonnaise but something a little thinner that sat well with my short rib. The kale was a bit of a let down. I ordered it because I believe that anything cooked with garlic and anchovy must be great. This was too watery and had a generic fish taste rather than a salty hit of anchovy. I could see pieces of garlic but the flavour was nowhere to be found.

There was time for pudding. I went for a banana split and my friend the baked cheesecake. This was a modern take on a perennial favourite. It tasted good but again it could have been better. The praline vanilla ice cream tasted cold and sweet rather than of praline or vanilla. The salted caramel sauce, so in vogue at the moment was in truth, a very good caramel sauce without any salt. The caramelised wafer was a highlight; the contrasting textures provided a balance to the soft matter surrounding it.

Would I return? Probably. The pulled pork suggested that there are some rather good things on this menu. The service was excellent which can often be the exception rather than the rule at lunchtime in London. The prices are steep and once the initial excitement wears off and/or Ramsay opens his doors directly opposite, I think Barbecoa may have to raise its game.

www.barbecoa.com
Open 7 days a week. Reservations online via OpenTable.

Meatfruit

Perhaps the most anticipated restaurant launch of the last 12 months has been this, Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Knightsbridge.

I was lucky enough to be invited to the soft launch of the restaurant in the few weeks before it formally opened yesterday, 31st January 2011. The website describes ‘Dinner’ as “The main meal of the day, taken either around midday or in the evening”; I take dinner in the evening so at 7pm I arrived (with a few others) at the Mandarin Oriental.

The Mandarin Oriental stands opposite Knightsbridge tube station, where Sloane Street meets the Brompton Road. It’s an area so affluent that if you close your eyes and breathe deeply, you can smell money. The bouquet has been enhanced of late by One Hyde Park the apartment block next door where the penthouse suite was on sale for a mere £140 million. The hotel itself was renovated in 2000 and is opulent without being gaudy. There is a street level entrance for Bar Boulud, Daniel Boulud’s London outpost but access to Dinner is through the main entrance, up the stairs and to the left where it’s predecessor Foilage was located. This however, is a very different space to its predecessor, bigger and modern.

On arrival at reception you can see into the bar where we stopped for a drink. The bar menu has undergone a transformation and instead of listing cocktails by type they have been grouped by destination. If you are feeling like a New York minute or leaving Las Vegas there is a choice on the menu for you. I played it safe by having a gin and tonic, selecting from the numerous gins on the list (Tanqueray 10) before being asked whether I had a preferred method of preparation (I do: slice of lime, cold gin, cold tonic, no need for ice) or whether I was happy for them to prepare it in the house style. I chose the latter. I was brought a long glass filled with ‘tempered ice’ (I know a few people who fit that description) which is specially made on site using a process that makes it colder than normal and harder so that it melts slowly and doesn’t dilute the drink too much. Perched atop the ice was a curl of lemon skin. The bartender told us that lime oil was too heavy for gin and it disrupted the delicate botanicals but lemon doesn’t. The peel rather than a segment helped give the drink a gentle lemon zing rather than pips and flesh which again would be too heavy.

We were led into the restaurant which is large and airy. Part of the wine cellar is on display behind floor to ceiling glass. The main kitchen juts out from the right hand side of the room and has a similar glass wall so that you can watch the final stages of preparation before you plate is delivered to the table. We were sat by one of the enormous windows that looks out onto Hyde Park. By night it looks dramatic, by day I suspect it delivers a beautiful view of the park. Once again the main wall is glass and the occupiers of the room can choose whether to have a view out into the restaurant or to close the blinds and shut out the rest of the world. The decor inside the private room reminded me of Heston’s Feasts on Channel 4. Immediately adjacent to the kitchen is a chef’s table which seats 6. It’s separated from the kitchen by a busy corridor and looks directly at the pass. I suspect it will be very popular as will be the terrace overlooking Hyde Park when it opens during the summer. The table is simply decorated. Bare dark brown wooden tables with stemless wine glasses for water and sensibly sized wine glasses next to them whilst below the cutlery is different and delicate.

The Menu

The menu of 8 starters, 10 main courses and 7 desserts covered a broad range of flavours and tastes. Alongside each dish was the date of its popularity. At Dinner, these dishes have been recreated with a generous dusting of Heston Blumenthal and Ashley Palmer-Watts attention to detail and skill. It’s worth noting that whilst the restaurant bears HB’s name, it’s Palmer-Watts who runs the kitchen. Those wanting the authentic HB experience need not fear, Palmer-Watts has been running the Fat Duck kitchen for many years. I didn’t get to see the set lunch menu but it’s now on the website. According to articles in the press a afternoon tea and tasting menus will follow in due course.

One of my fellow diners agreed with my plan to order different dishes and then swop halfway through so that we could try six dishes. It ended up being five different dishes as we both wanted a tipsy cake each.

Starters

The Roast Bone Marrow served with parsley, anchovy, mace and pickled vegetables. It was attractively presented in a long bone on a wooden board. The parsley and anchovy provided sweet and salty notes to bring out the deep almost fungal flavours of the marrow. The pickled vegetables were crisply acidic and complimented the fat in the marrow.

Meatfruit. This is billed as one of the restaurant’s signature dishes and rightly so. In the 16th century it was popular for meat to be disguised as fruit and so here the smoothest chicken liver parfait is encased in a mandarin gel. An inedible stalk is added and it looks just like a piece of fruit on a wooden board with two pieces of grilled bread. The outer ‘peel’ has a silky quality and a strong mandarin aroma. Inside is the smoothest parfait I have ever tasted. The offal flavour is mild yet but not meek; this is definitely the sort of thing that foie gras lovers will enjoy. The mandarin peel brings a rounded sweetness to the buttery parfait and chewy, crunchy grilled bread. I could have done with a third slice of bread, but I’m really nitpicking here.

Main Course

My eyes were immediately drawn to the steaks on the menu. Dinner sources its beef from Jack O’Shea the Irish butcher who can be found in the Food Hall at Selfridges. Along with the Ginger Pig, they produce the best beef that I’ve bought in the UK. At Dinner they serve a Sirloin of Black Angus or a Wing Rib for two, to share. Making eye contact with a fellow steak aficionado across the table, we resolved to share the wing rib which came with mushroom ketchup (umami and tangy), red wine juice (concentrated but not sticky) and triple cooked chips. Before I move on about the beef, a note about the triple cooked chips. They were crisp, crunchy, meltingly soft in the middle and not oily in the slightest. I imagine that they have spent some time being dehydrated after one of the three frys. The wing rib was huge, it came sliced in thick slabs with the bone to fight over. The meat was medium rare as suggested and an even shade of ruby red inside with a good crust on the outside. I kept eating but the amount of steak on the plate seemed to stay the same. Be warned, even though this is for two to share, each half is big. The steak was very good and the mushroom ketchup an intriguing condiment but this shouldn’t be the reason to visit Dinner when there are far more exciting things on the menu. (The carrots were delicious and spiced with something quite unusual, worth trying so I won’t spoil the surprise).

I couldn’t choose between the duck and the pigeon and so asked the waiter for his suggestion. He encouraged me to go for the spiced pigeon with ale and artichokes and so I did. The pigeon was rich, gamey and very soft; almost to the point of being like fillet steak in texture. Chef had crisped the skin and the fat was visible enough that it could be removed by those who don’t like it. The jus, just like that served with the steak was rich without being over-reduced and cloyingly sticky. The baby artichokes almost outshone the pigeon. Aside from being arranged to look like rib bones to the pigeon’s meat they were evenly charred and had a delicate texture and flavour that went perfectly with the pigeon.

Dessert

Along with the meatfruit, the tipsy cake has been described as a signature dish at Dinner. A traditional tipsy cake is served alongside roasted pineapple. The pineapples are on a turning spit and roasted over an open fire. The fruit is caramelised on the outside but retains it’s moisture on the inside. It also seems to loose some of the acidic edge that normally puts me off eating pineapple. A slice of pineapple with a little of the moist cake, the base covered in caramel goodness is very rich and though the portion is small, you probably couldn’t manage any more.

Tea

With dessert out of the way we were offered coffee or tea, the latter on a menu with seven or eight different varieties offered. I opted for a Taiwanese tea which was served in a clear pot which provided a single cup in the attractive double walled glass. The waiter indicated that on request he would top up the pot for a second cup. The second cup from good leaf tea always has a different blend of flavours from the first.

To finish, we were presented with an espresso cup filled with an earl grey ganache and caraway biscuits. The ganache was sweet and sticky with the unmistakable perfume of bergamot. The soft texture is what I imagine the chocolate river in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to have been like.

Wine

The wine list is smaller than its competitors but it’s quality not quantity here. The Sommelier used to hold the same position at the Capital down the road. I enjoyed three rather good bottles of Burgundy and a bottle of Tokaji with the 5 others at the table. The prices are what you would expect from a restaurant at a 5 star hotel or a Michelin starred establishment.

Dinner by Heston is a break away from what HB is best known for. It opened yesterday and is now fully booked until the end of May 2011 which is no surprise. Despite the hefty price tag, (3 courses for around £55, a set lunch at a far more economical £28), the demand for tables at Dinner will almost certainly continue to be huge given the location and that it’s 1/3rd of the price of the Fat Duck! The next round of Michelin stars will be handed out in January 2012 and Dinner will certainly make the list. Whether it gains 1 or 2 stars in it’s first year will be interesting to see.

As for me, I’d go back for the meatfruit alone.

Dinner by Heston is open for lunch and dinner throughout the week and is located in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, London. Full details of how to book and a preview of the menu can be found here (www.dinnerbyheston.com)

Remove the beef from the fridge and set it to one side while you prepare the garnishes. You will need:
Either 4-5 baby carrots per person or 8-10 small chantanay carrots washed of any visible dirt and trimmed where necessary.
10 mange tout per person
50g of smoked lardons per person
150g of maris piper or king edward potatoes per person
3-4 chestnut mushrooms per person

Carrots

Steam the carrots and refresh under cold water. Set aside

Lardons

Place the lardons in a roasting tray or frying pan so that they form a single layer. Place in a preheated oven at 200c for 15 minutes or until they are golden and crisp. You will need to turn them every 5 minutes or so. If you have used a frying pan, remove the lardons to a plate and put the pan with the lardon fat onto the hob on a moderate heat. If you used a roasting pan, decant the fat into a frying pan. Set aside the lardons and resist the temptation to eat them!

Mushrooms

Remove the stems from the mushrooms and put them in the frying pan. The aim is to cook them quickly in the lardon fat before they leach out too much liquid. If you go past that point, reduce the heat a little and let them reabsorb what has leached out. You want to end up with plump, juicy mushrooms with a smoky flavour.

(if you opt to make the dish without lardons, cook the mushrooms in a little oil and butter following the same principle)

Potatoes

I’ve eaten this in Burgundy with small ratte potatoes, dauphinoise and mash. Whilst probably least traditional, my preference is a good creamy mash as it allows you to easily mop up the jus when you eat.

Peel the potatoes and cut them up into similar sized small chunks of about 2.5cm. Place in salted boiling water with a lid on and simmer until they are tender. Drain and pour into a bowl. Put the boiling pan back onto a low heat and add a splash of milk and a knob or two of butter. Pass the potatoes through a potato ricer into the milk and butter for a smooth finish. If you don’t have a ricer then put the potatoes back in and mash well with a traditional masher. When the potatoes are mashed or have been ‘riced’ in, use a spatula to mix them into a smooth paste. Don’t overwork them. Fold in as much double cream as they can handle and season well.

Don’t be tempted to add the double cream at the start. It will make the mash very difficult to work and will almost impossible to beat out any lumps. Keep the mash covered and warm.

Heating the beef

Put the beef into a preheated oven (at 150c) when you start to make the mash. Let it warm through without boiling or reducing. After 5 minutes, add the carrots and mushrooms and heat for a further 5 minutes.

Mange Tout

Simply steam the mange tout whilst plating up the beef and mash.

The finished dish

Arrange the mash and beef on plate, scatter over the lardons and a little finely chopped parsley. Serve with the mange tout and a glass or red Burgundy.

Stews, casseroles, soups, lasagne; for some reason these all taste better as leftovers. In the same way that marinating meat before cooking it imparts additional flavour, over time we have begun to realise that some foods need to rest and improve after they have been cooked. Whilst this post might not result in you taking four days to make your next bourguignon, I’d suggest you make your next casserole or stew a day in advance and let it sit in the fridge overnight. Aside from increasing the intensity of flavour, you can skim some of the fat from the top, making it a little healthier and giving it a cleaner taste.

Back to the Beef Bourguignon.

Step 1 – The Red Wine reduction
In order to get a strong red wine flavour into the dish, you need to reduce a bottle of red into a sticky glaze by reducing it at a high temperature. If you do this with beef in the pot, you’ll boil the beef at the same time which is not the flavour you’re looking for.

Into a heavy cast iron pot, put 125-150g of each of the following cut into rough chunks: onion, shallots, carrots, leeks (white and light green parts only) mushrooms (chestnut or portabellini) . Crush four cloves of garlic and add to the pan with five whole peppercorns. Make a bouquet garni of thyme, parsley and bay leaves; if you haven’t got a piece of string handy, the little rubber band that herbs are often bunched in will do much the same job. Pour over a whole bottle of red wine, save for a half glass for yourself to enjoy whilst browning the beef. On a medium to high heat, it will take about half an hour for the wine to reduce to a sticky glaze with very little liquid left.

When choosing a bottle of wine to make bourguignon, the obvious choice would be a red burgundy. Suitable alternatives include Cabernet Sauvignon or a new world Pinot Noir. The old adage applies. If you wouldn’t drink it, don’t cook with it.

2. Additional vegetables
Whilst the wine is reducing, prepare another 100g of each of the following: carrots, onions, shallots, leeks. Once the red wine reduction is ready, remove the original bouqet garni and replace with a new one made of thyme, parsley and bay once again. Add the additional vegetables and mix well.

3. Browning the meat
I went to the Ginger Pig on Saturday and asked for 1.5kg of braising steak cut into large cubes. The butcher simply cut me a single 1.5kg piece and then asked if I wanted to cut it up, or whether he should do it, knowing full well that I would choose the former. I cut the large pieces of fat out and then the turned it into approximately 20 large chunks.

The key to buying beef for this dish is that it should be good quality braising steak and that the pieces should be approximately 1 inch cubes. The beef is braised slowly and if the pieces are too small, they could disintegrate.

Dry your beef on kitchen paper. Wet beef won’t brown in the pan, it will steam. Season the cubes all over with salt and pepper. Take a large frying pan and put it on a high heat with a couple of tablespoons of rapeseed or groundnut oil (something that won’t smoke – do not use olive oil!). When the pan is very hot, add some of the beef. It is very important not to crowd the pan otherwise the beef will steam and not brown. I browned my 20 pieces in five batches. As a rule of thumb, aim to fill less than half the pan at a time. Each batch will take 5-6 minutes to brown on all sides. If you have prepared the cubes in advance, you can get it all done whilst the red wine reduces.

When you have browned each batch of beef, drain the cubes on kitchen paper. After all the beef has browned, the pan will have a developed a crust of beef ‘fond’. With the heat up high, pour in a little water and using a spoon, scrape up the fond until it combines with the water. Pour the resulting liquid into the red wine reduction.

4. Combing the beef, vegetables and red wine reduction
You should now have a large pot with a red wine reduction and fresh vegetables mixed into it and 1.5kg of beef, browned to perfection. The vegetables in the pot will be thrown away after being braised in the oven as they will have turned to mush from being cooked for so long. The jus will be strained over the beef. The easiest way to retrieve the beef after it has been braised is to create a barrier between the ingredients. Take a piece of muslin or cheesecloth and run it under the cold tap. Wring out the excess water and place the flatten cloth over the vegetables. Lay the beef on top in a single or double layer. Pour over at least 1 litre of good quality stock.

This dish depends on good quality ingredients. Cheap beef, poor quality wine or salty stock from a cube will ruin it. Aside from your own home made stock, the next best alternatives are either the pouches of fresh stock available in supermarkets or the Knorr stock gels.

Use a litre of dark beef stock or a combination of beef and veal stock. If this doesn’t cover the beef, add some water to the pot until the beef is just covered.

Cut a piece of parchment or baking paper to the size of the pot and make a small hole in the middle. This will allow steam to escape without too much of the liquid evaporating. Put the lid on. It goes into an oven pre-heated to 190c for 2 hours.

4. Letting it rest
After the beef has braised for two hours, remove the beef from the pot and put it into a clean receptacle, large enough to accommodate it and the litre or so of cooking jus. The value of the muslin will be evident here as it will allow you to easily remove the beef without having to fish around or scrape off bits of shallot!

Take a fine sieve and line it with another piece of muslin. Strain the liquid over the beef. Put a lid on the new receptacle and let it sit in the fridge for 3 days. After a few hours, any further fat will solidify and come to the surface. Skim that off when you get a chance.

I’ll be back later in the week with details of how to finish the dish off.

My 32nd birthday just happened to provide the ideal opportunity to go. Originally, we had a table booked for dinner on my actual birthday but advice from others coupled with the memories of rolling out of Per Se at 1am, well fed, happy, but more than a little drowsy, reminded us that lunch was a better option when facing a number of courses that runs into double figures.

I managed to move the table to the following weekend and for lunch rather than dinner. So on Saturday 15th May, we drove to rural Berkshire. Bray is tiny; blink and you’ll miss it. It has the air of a French village where the main road to somewhere else runs through the middle. As we were a little early, we walked over to the Hinds Head pub which is adjacent to the Fat Duck and part of the Blumenthal empire.

The Hinds Head is a lovely little English pub and worthy of a visit in its own right. The menu looks stellar with steaks from O’Sheas in town. We hope to go back for lunch later in the year.

As the clock moved past 12, we walked next door to the Fat Duck to be greeted by both the Restaurant Manager and the Operations Manager. (At this stage it seems appropriate to add that I know one of them; my review however, remains impartial)

We were shown to our table in what is a very small, intimate dining room. There are 12 tables in a horseshoe arrangement in a rustic room with plenty of exposed wood and simple art on the walls. The tables are arranged simply with a single flower in a glass as decoration.

The menus arrived encased in thick leather. Some time last year, the restaurant dispensed with their a la carte menu in favour of a single tasting menu currently priced at £150 per head. The menu is reproduced on their website and so it came as no surprise to me. Our waiter explained that the kitchen would be delighted to cater for any dietary requirements or simply substitute anything that either of us didn’t wish to eat. Mrs Pondering Gourmet doesn’t particularly care for roast foie gras and needed little persuasion to switch when offered langoustines, one of her favourite foods. Detailed on the menu were the wines served by the glass as a wine flight available at £90 per head. The selected wines were an interesting selection taking in Australia, Germany, France, Japan, Portgual, Italy and Spain. The full wine list was a hefty tome which I had a quick browse through. Champagne was offered from the cart. We both had a glass in a nod to my advancing years, but neither of us felt like drinking more so water would be our accompaniment.

Before the show began, we were presented with an envelope each sealed with wax and imprinted with the Fat Duck logo. Inside, the menu to guide you through the next few hours. As I had another look the great man himself, Heston Blumenthal came out of the kitchen and came over to the table and introduced himself. We had a brief chat as I tried not to grin like a starstruck moron.

First Course

Lime Grove
(Nitro Poached Green Tea with Lime Mousse)

And so the magic began. Before your very eyes liquid nitrogen is used to create a dome of mousse with a green tea dusting. The lime notes are accentuated with a lime essence sprayed into the air that instantly conjure up images of lime groves or gin and tonic on a hot afternoon.

The mousse domes are made individually and guests are asked to consume them immediately. It melts and slightly fizzes in the mouth, releasing green tea notes before refreshing the palate with lime. The intense cold of the liquid nitrogen makes itself felt, resetting the mouth ready for what will follow.

For the first time, my palate felt absolutely cleansed. I have had palate cleansers that have gently bathed or masked, but this was an altogether different experience with anything that might have been lingering in my mouth, banished so that I could ready myself for the rest of the meal. (9/10)

Second Course

Red Cabbage Gazpacho
(Pommery Grain Mustard Ice Cream)

The first of many tricks of the mind. When you first lay eyes on the quenelle of ice cream and the deep red gazpacho, you assume that the soup will be the sharp counterpuch to rich ice cream. The first spoonful and you realise that it is in fact the other way round. The red cabbage gazpacho was sweet and round like a young glass of pinot noir; the mustard ice cream was mild but packed solid mustard notes. My mind kept expecting the flavours to be the other way round and each mouthful confused it more.

And then it was finished before my brain had a chance to get used to it. The initial intrigue aside, you are left with a competent gazpacho and a well made ice cream. This is perhaps the weakest dish on the menu; but to keep a sense of perspective, it’s because the others were just more interesting. This was the only course I might expect to see on any tasting menu across the globe. (7/10)

Third Course

Jelly of Quail, Crayfish Cream
(Chicken Liver Parfait, Oak Moss and Truffle Toast)

The theatrics continued. A wooden block with oak moss is placed in the centre of the table and liquid nitrogen poured over the top creating a billows of smoke that gently envelope the table. Looking at the picture above, the tiny slab on the left is a slice of truffle toast and on the right, a cup of the quail, crayfish and parfait.

You are presented with a small piece of film which you are instructed to place on your tongue. The film melts and fills your mouth with the taste oak, heightening the aromas flowing from the box on the table.

The cup had had the trio set within it whilst at an angle, allowing you the pleasure of seeing the three layers after your first spoonful; and what a spoonful. The light crayfish cream is juxtaposed with the jelly before finally yielding to an earthy, velvet smooth parfait that coats the mouth. All three flavours compliment rather than compete and can be tasted individually. My first thought was of the ‘meal in a sweet’ from Charlie and the chocolate factory. You suck on it and get soup, a roast dinner and then a traditional pud.

I could have eaten several cups of the cream/jelly/parfait combination. The real let down was the truffle toast. This is perhaps a matter of personal taste but the deep dark colours led me brain to expect a large truffle punch when instead all I got was a mild waft. (8/10: 9/10 for the jelly/cream/parfait and 7/10 for the toast)

Fourth Course

Snail Porridge
(Jabugo Ham, Shaved Fennel)

Snail Porridge is one of HB’s most famous dishes. For many, it’s inclusion on the menu probably represents one of those ‘wouldn’t normally eat it, but I’m here now’ type responses. I on the other hand love snails and couldn’t wait. A small oval bowl arrived. The base a deep green with plump snails perched on top. The fennel shavings akin to wafer thin tagliatelle.

Wow. The snail were unctuous, the ham a salty contrast with the green sweet grassy parsley porridge wrapping itself around the two. The shaved fennel provided a crunch without interrupting the flavours and there was a slight hint of Christmas pudding provided by slight citrus notes on the nose. I didn’t want this to end. (10/10)

Fifth Course

Roast Foie Gras
(Rhubarb, Braised Konbu and Crab Biscuit)

Mrs Gourmet opted for an alternative to the foie gras. Instead of the foie, she had an exquisitely soft, sweet langoustine. The foie gras was buttery and rich and the sesame seeds scattered on top provided a contrasting crunch. The crab biscuit had an ozone quality that cut through the richness of the foie and the konbu emitted its familiar umami flavour. (8/10)

Sixth Course

Mock Turtle Soup
(Mad Hatter Tea)

Another dish that was full of theatrics. You are presented with a bowl containing a pink oblong of ham terrine and something that resembles an egg (turnip in fact) with two enoki mushrooms sprouting from the top. To the right of the soup bowl is cup into which a gold fob (fashioned to resemble a pocket watch) is placed and water poured on top. The fob is dried beef consomme encased in gold leaf. The hot water turns it back into liquid form peppered with the slivers of leaf. You are then instructed to pour the consomme into the bowl.

The beef consomme was delicious; the flavour had been lifted with Maderia. The ham terrine was soft and yielding but I wasn’t overly enamored with the turnip which had a slightly gelatinous feel to it which felt at odds with the rest of the dish. (7.5/10)

Seventh Course

Sounds of the Sea
(Halibut, Mackerel, Yellowfin Tuna)

A polished conch appears at the table. Sticking out of the side are some headphones which emit a pleasing sound of the coast. It sounds ridiculous but it really does make you feel like you are eating fresh fish outside by the coastline. The human brain is easily fooled.

First up, closest to you is a piece of yellowfin tuna. Unctuous, suitably fatty and accompanied perfectly by the ‘sand’ of breadcrumbs cooked with smoked eel. Next, the mackerel in the middle which was given a boost by the pieces of sea kelp. Finally a piece of halibut that sang of Earl Grey as the bergamot notes rang out. (10/10)

Eighth Course

Salmon poached in liquorice
(Asparagus, Vanilla Mayonnaise, Golden Trout Roe and Manni Olive Oil)

A beautiful dark box of liquorice that when opened contains perfectly cooked light pink salmon. The liquorice balance was perfect, strong enough that you could taste it compliment the oiliness of the salmon, delicate enough that it didn’t trample upon any of the other flavours. I love roe of any description and the trout variety on the plate burst open periodically to cut through both flavours. This dish changes slightly through the year by all accounts as the vegetable is always seasonal. Nothing beats English asparagus and here were three perfect examples of that heady claim. The vanilla mayonnaise was technically perfect and worked with the salmon, but not the asparagus. The Manni olive oil was dotted on at the table very sparingly, so much so that I really couldn’t taste it. (9/10)

Ninth Course

Powdered Anjou Pigeon
(Blood pudding and confit of umbles)

The plate arrived with three pieces of pigeon that were caramalised on the outside and blushing pink within. Unsurprisingly, they were perfectly cooked and had the gamey richness of well sourced pigeon. The blood sauce was a real revelation. I haven’t had the courage to cook with blood as yet, nobody I have cooked for has ever seemed keen. It had the consistency of a chocolate ganache but packed a heavy, meaty and slightly sweet flavour. A little dab slathered over each mouthful of pigeon was heavenly. The umble (heart) was offal at its best. (10/10)

Tenth Course

Hot and Iced Tea

Sweet earl grey. Hot on the left hand side and cold on the right hand side. Really. Bonkers. Brilliant. (10/10 for sheer skill)

Eleventh Course

Taffety Tart
(Caramelized Apple, Fennel, Rose and Candied Lemon)

The first of what would turn out to be three puddings. This was a crisp tart with plenty of sweet flavours, all tempered by silky fromage blanc. The fennel gave it warmth and depth. Whilst it tasted very good, I didn’t find it particularly exciting (8/10)

Twelfth Course

The “BFG”
(Black Forest Gateau)

I recall watching the episode of ‘In search of perfection’ where Heston spent 30 minutes turning black forest gateau into one of his works of art. I therefore had some idea as to what to expect. It was even better. The gateau is light and creamy. There is a massive kirsch kick that really makes it ‘BFG’ rather than any old cake. The velvety ice cream complimented the light, yet somehow rich cake. (9.5/10)

Thirteenth Course

Bacon and Egg Ice Cream
(Candied Bacon, Brioche, Tomato compote)

When the tasting menu was last updated, this was removed. As a bacon fiend, I was disappointed. As it was my birthday, the person I know at the FD surprised us with this as an extra course. A copper pan on a rest is brought to the table. You are shown an egg which is cracked into the pan; this is the bacon and egg cream. Liquid nitrogen is added and in just over a minute, the ice cream is cooked before you. It’s served on a piece of bacon, wafer thin and shiny. Underneath is a piece of brioche with a sweet tomato jam lurking within.

The bacon and egg ice cream had a familiar smoky taste. As expected, the lack of ice crystals meant it was exceptionally smooth. It was cold set cream, there wasn’t any ice in sight. The lacquered bacon has the distant (and pleasing) smell of a freshly polished wooden floor. It was crispy and sweet. At the bottom, the brioche was buttery and the tomato compote sweet with the flavour of ripe tomatoes.

The three flavours worked wondrously together. A real winner. No idea why this isn’t still on the menu. (10/10)

Fourteenth Course

Whisk(e)y Wine Gums

Five wine gums with five distinctly different whisky flavours. (8/10)

Fifteenth Course

“Like a kid in a sweet shop”

A pink and white striped bag of sweets appeared with coffee. The menu card smelt like a sweet shop. All were beautiful and as described. For me, the apple pie caramel was the stand out item. (8/10)

With that, the meal was over. After a quick tour of the kitchen we made our way home. The Fat Duck was an amazing experience; it’s more than just a meal, it’s a chance for highly skilled professionals to play with and heighten your senses in order to produce exceptional cuisine.

If I had any overall criticism, it would be the lack of a defined main course. In this array of ‘Galacticos’ (but infinitely more successful than Real Madrid), the pigeon seemed more like a midfield genius than the star striker. I would love to see HB’s take on beef or veal.

Don’t let that detract from how massively impressed I was with the Fat Duck. The food was brilliant, the experience unique and the service impeccable.

It. was. amazing.

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the countertop in the kitchen watching my Mum cook dinner.  I was often allowed to help, at first stirring something, later graduating onto chopping onions until I remember asking for a recipe book and the chance to make something by myself.  I have always been fascinated by food, where it comes from, how to cook it, reading about, cooking it and of course eating the final product.
By the age of 10, I owned three books; Ken Hom’s Chinese Food, an introduction to cooking aimed at children by Fay Maschler and my prized possession, a cookery book (so much more than mere recipes) by Robert Carrier.  The latter had been a great favourite of my parents and was one that I borrowed and put on my own bookshelf.

Those who went to school with me know that I had little time for reading fiction.  My bookshelves were laden with ‘books with facts’ as I called them, almanacs and factual guides to various subjects.  I also had a healthy collection of cookery and recipe books.  They were my fiction.  I would read about them and wonder what some of the more exotic ingredients were.  This was well before the internet brought the 1′s and 0′s of wikipedia in our homes.  If I wanted to know what chard looked and tasted like it was a case of finding a dictionary or a ‘fact book’ and probably both.

Fast forward 11 years and I was living with Lucy, surrounded by the by products of the TV Chef phenomena that was in its ascendancy.  More importantly, I was now had my own kitchen and could cook for two and receive instant feedback.

Through the last decade, I have been lucky enough to visit lots of restaurants, many with Michelin stars.  My skills in the kitchen have improved with practice and the range of food that I can cook has expanded exponentially.  Of late as I began to catch myself telling people about the new chorizo that I had found or how the seventh iteration of my pot roast had produced the perfect sauce, my thoughts turned to writing up these ideas and creating a website.

And so the Pondering Gourmet was born.  A collection of my thoughts on food and drink that I eat at home, in a restaurant or in the air.

This section will contain what are commonly known as trip reports, focussing mainly on the food and drink served on the ground and onboard.