tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-253167972024-03-13T08:41:19.115+00:00Have Fork Will TravelJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.comBlogger781125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-86731187883622679832011-12-26T09:52:00.000+00:002012-01-02T14:54:45.818+00:00Breakfast after the night before!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYF_w_KLBkKZnDUiThmy_Gr9VKiDDLGEAWl1rgw60Ajoku_ZPaf5Dfv_lvqCrN441oomzMM3vkWpAcOZayxY3N0twq_70FkqdSLbxzB5nwLBCto2WbSPfFomEJxhMOrjwe_gxN/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252026%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A31%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYF_w_KLBkKZnDUiThmy_Gr9VKiDDLGEAWl1rgw60Ajoku_ZPaf5Dfv_lvqCrN441oomzMM3vkWpAcOZayxY3N0twq_70FkqdSLbxzB5nwLBCto2WbSPfFomEJxhMOrjwe_gxN/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252026%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A31%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325516412021.0366" class="clearleft" width="500" height="372" align="left"></a></div><div>All but four of the hotel guests are in the breakfast room discussing “things that go bump in the night”! It turns out that Hambrough isn't haunted at all but the remaining guests, who appear to be parents and their two children, have been enjoying that age-old Christmas tradition of a big old humdinger of a family row. So no ghosts of Christmas past, present and future entertaining us, but I suspect spirits of another sort helped fuel the nocturnal activities instead! The screaming, door slamming perpetrators are breakfasting in their rooms (or burying the body on the beach) so we can't count all their limbs but our curiosity will most like be sated at Boxing Day lunch. </div><div>In the meantime I eat some of the beautifully presented ring of smoked salmon (don’t think Iceland here more Fortnum & Mason!) with the happy chickens’ golden scrambled eggs. </div><div>There is a charity swim, or how long you can stay in the cold, cold sea endurance test, taking place at midday so our daily constitutional is joining the Ventnor inhabitants cheering on the hardy participants. I felt I got drenched enough yesterday striving for that decisive moment, and my hiking boots are still very much out of commission so will watch safely from the sidelines.</div><div>Oh and then there's the final lunch, gulp, must...work...up...appetite!</div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-91182176137849450072011-12-26T03:06:00.000+00:002012-01-02T14:01:01.833+00:00Haunted hamper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xBLdUf-2ySA/TwG4Ur7bA3I/AAAAAAAAHnQ/aHTaLM97e_c/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xBLdUf-2ySA/TwG4Ur7bA3I/AAAAAAAAHnQ/aHTaLM97e_c/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325513147402.1306" class="clearleft" width="500" height="350" align="left"></a></div><div>In a wine induced haze during lunch I reconfirmed a hamper of provisions for my room tonight. So the hotel and kitchen staff can enjoy some semblance of Christmas day celebrations, they batten down the hatches when we've safely retired to our rooms after we've all been fabulously fed at lunch. And to make sure we don’t go hungry (as if!) Robert Thompson whips up a hamper of goodies to help while away the food-free hours! </div><div>When the overflowing basket is delivered along with my remaining Malbec and a stack of little white plates I know I'm really not remotely peckish but I check out what's on offer. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Selection of Cured Spanish Meats</div><div style="text-align: center;">Potted Gressingham Duck with Orange</div><div style="text-align: center;">Scottish Smoked Salmon with Crème Fraîche and Lemon</div><div style="text-align: center;">Smoked Mackerel and Peppercorn Pâté with Sourdough</div><div style="text-align: center;">Selection of Olives</div><div style="text-align: center;">Spanish Fried Mix</div><div style="text-align: center;">Local Potato Crisps</div><div style="text-align: center;">Selection of Local and Continental Cheeses</div><div style="text-align: center;">Freshly Baked Bread</div><div style="text-align: center;">Homemade Scones with Jam and Cream</div><div style="text-align: center;">Shortbread</div><div style="text-align: center;">Clementine Sponge</div><div style="text-align: center;">Vanilla and Caramella Chocolate Fudge</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cranberry Jelly</div><div>I definitely don't fancy any wine but I'd really like some cold water. I heard raised voices and doors banging earlier so I guess there are still staff around to help quench my thirst. I go downstairs but everything is very much shut up so I’ll have to make do with what I can find in my room. Throughout the evening I still keep hearing the banging and the only conclusion I can draw is that the hotel is haunted! </div><div>Despite the angry ghosts I fall asleep on the bed watching a bit of Agatha Christie and on waking at 2.30am-ish wondering why I'm a little cold realise I could investigate some of the delights laid out on on my little carpet picnic. My rather-past-midnight feast consists of the delicious rosy slices of succulent smoked salmon with the slightly tart creamy sauce, the moist potted duck and orange spread on the croutes, some of the Spanish meats, the only cheese that wasn't goat or blue, a small taste of the crisps and Spanish fried mix, a shard of shortbread and a soupçon of scone with a smudge of jam. I really enjoyed what I did tuck into and wish I could have done it more justice but eyes bigger than stomach again, maybe the ghosts will spirit the rest away whilst I sleep!</div><div style="font-family: NittiWM-Light; font-size: 22px; line-height: normal; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><br></div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-68523598280056012032011-12-25T15:09:00.000+00:002012-01-01T18:58:03.906+00:00Christmas Stuffing!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqq-0m37ZQ_xBeAiLP_Ey_eEcjX9frKS25tCaUDqnU4huPVUMDGWDty6AT6YMOOjAs4dmLZq7g3hH5iIm52zbZxssi4-oACuEXEllj62Quijxh3dwlWS6PA91oKALd4JL_h34P/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A56%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqq-0m37ZQ_xBeAiLP_Ey_eEcjX9frKS25tCaUDqnU4huPVUMDGWDty6AT6YMOOjAs4dmLZq7g3hH5iIm52zbZxssi4-oACuEXEllj62Quijxh3dwlWS6PA91oKALd4JL_h34P/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A56%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418459.8804" class="clearleft" width="500" height="422" alt=""></a></div><div>We’re back in the dining room again, the bling factor has been upped, the stylish crackers are out and we’re all looking forward greatly to our traditional Christmas lunch. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym2OY6f6TN6eLWs5azUAeYYyWX1DJcyRDWGHqZLYX2i3tZNWTPM7SVtTj1JbWEgrcu6tgbWW1fyGd7USibzV43QOKYb_xB93zBEnHigbkyaNFedokJq8i2RMIPn-iFJdT5DC5/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A11%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym2OY6f6TN6eLWs5azUAeYYyWX1DJcyRDWGHqZLYX2i3tZNWTPM7SVtTj1JbWEgrcu6tgbWW1fyGd7USibzV43QOKYb_xB93zBEnHigbkyaNFedokJq8i2RMIPn-iFJdT5DC5/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A11%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418521.8594" class="clearleft" width="500" height="400" alt=""></a></div><div>Well maybe not so traditional, no matter which of the three of Robert Thompson’s Tasting menus you've selected you'll find a turkey-free zone and something rather more glamorous instead. I've plumped for the seemingly slightly less extravagant of the three (more of that assumption later!) and in a moment of Christmas madness I've elected to have the accompanying sommelier choices of wines alongside. What could possibly go wrong? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpOP_QvxquKXXm8i45hY28MSbEZsiJJi9eGNRJCZg3ex1DHCAgBsJ4Q6tDOedmpmj4Y8E6kcDloZ4tG0geOiFXoYbHW7xDgIfyl9GLQGaH0I8paVJ0ygXqMEW4HGJ1ljJa4AO/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252026%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpOP_QvxquKXXm8i45hY28MSbEZsiJJi9eGNRJCZg3ex1DHCAgBsJ4Q6tDOedmpmj4Y8E6kcDloZ4tG0geOiFXoYbHW7xDgIfyl9GLQGaH0I8paVJ0ygXqMEW4HGJ1ljJa4AO/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252026%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418497.8555" class="clearleft" width="500" height="392" alt=""></a></div><div>The cheese oozing gougères are out again this lunchtime, still incredibly moreish! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMfgAIgAO7VNtkUsMVnGDpuPmqbaqwMDaAXPt6YsrAx39so3utmrDc6IZEMBYYkCo4gtvT3_cR396vJaoXOSpjshfgI5fMeI_WM0IAM6BHYnqjiigHaU4pS72NBxQ2-p9kxKB/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMfgAIgAO7VNtkUsMVnGDpuPmqbaqwMDaAXPt6YsrAx39so3utmrDc6IZEMBYYkCo4gtvT3_cR396vJaoXOSpjshfgI5fMeI_WM0IAM6BHYnqjiigHaU4pS72NBxQ2-p9kxKB/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418497.2393" class="clearleft" width="500" height="363" alt=""></a></div><div>The appetiser is an elegant glass filled with a tasty spiced aubergine dip with walnut toast. It has a light, moussey texture, a slick of olive oil, a crunch of a finger of toasted walnut bread. All washed down with the ubiquitous bubbles - a nice glass of Billecart-Salmon Brut Reserve.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOxOxB_Ty3bBiNAY0YluM9AMUWsZYQKN_IdneUcpAhrY45_1z0kB7iH2Q4We0aRh6vGOVH9g7vvVuK5-SGRXDHpg_3bU-VMoTtNUahDGRoAAbaumm2XXjGi2yVVVD4xnAEVhY/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOxOxB_Ty3bBiNAY0YluM9AMUWsZYQKN_IdneUcpAhrY45_1z0kB7iH2Q4We0aRh6vGOVH9g7vvVuK5-SGRXDHpg_3bU-VMoTtNUahDGRoAAbaumm2XXjGi2yVVVD4xnAEVhY/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418477.5508" class="clearleft" width="500" height="307" alt=""></a></div><div>Next is the picture-perfect Local Sea Bass Lightly Cured, Vinaigrette of Oysters, Potato and Tarragon. Again this is a dish I wouldn't immediately plump for on a menu but that's why tasting menus are such a fabulous invention, you get to explore new flavours and not necessarily forgo the old favourites. And this was a perfect foil to the inevitable richness ahead, sweet wafts of tarragon, an oyster-y note, tastes of the sea, very fine indeed. The wine was a cheeky little Silvaner, Villa Wolf, Pfatz 2009. one of the reasons I succumbed to the wine extravaganza. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXhqSFIurGGBg1qcxpyYd6SJ0zHQ8Q70ckv2q8s3UutVAecaK4hJunB61H8Dg515Fetbw7bzqUr2qPNJIFxz1cuAAFWgr0Lfr5QHmaqPJngkPst8aKAFZ9iWsfvacUNKA5zYu/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXhqSFIurGGBg1qcxpyYd6SJ0zHQ8Q70ckv2q8s3UutVAecaK4hJunB61H8Dg515Fetbw7bzqUr2qPNJIFxz1cuAAFWgr0Lfr5QHmaqPJngkPst8aKAFZ9iWsfvacUNKA5zYu/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525201%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418509.6355" class="clearleft" width="500" height="457" alt=""></a></div><div>Next an unusual dish that provoked much chatter about the inventiveness of Robert and his team. This was the Canneloni of Roasted Goose, Artichoke Risotto and Roasted Various Beetroots. We got to enjoy deliciously delicate risotto hidden inside moist slices of goose (do you see what they did here?) topped with a chunk of soft, yielding artichoke heart. Also there's a wedge of the very earthy purple beetroot and, more preferable to me, the more delicate golden beetroot. A fruity little Pinot Noir, Blanc de Noir/Chardonnay, Uruguay 2008 accompanied the ’cannelloni’.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTl_u9ovuHlk1JAT5TNvlQdfXnO-hk7ZiIZN602HqX7OXY0CdRWjfanbr5r3cWqv8F3fyvWdtfB7jEoc2pb-ImMcJRoFDNQHZ8UoUg51Dh0rAkpV0uw0XWRuALrTn9BMiAWBj/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A16%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTl_u9ovuHlk1JAT5TNvlQdfXnO-hk7ZiIZN602HqX7OXY0CdRWjfanbr5r3cWqv8F3fyvWdtfB7jEoc2pb-ImMcJRoFDNQHZ8UoUg51Dh0rAkpV0uw0XWRuALrTn9BMiAWBj/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A16%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418518.266" class="clearleft" width="500" height="495" alt=""></a></div><div>The perfumed steam from the Baked Scallops in the Shell with Celeriac, Hazelnut, Beurre Noisette and Lemon Thyme was truly tantalizing. The sealing of all the aromatic goodies in the shell certainly intensifies that oh so sweet scallop taste and really was a revelation. I'd always believed it was sautéed, flash-fried or nothing else for the perfect scallop. And yes another wine appeared a Côte Du Jura ’Les Varrons’ Julien Labet 2007.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO38v3_eohTkxMC7REDQ1D59-FJUdPLxTcKfkG4g5mziS-sIhQjp7f6urPk_iDfN8xy3tt0nD2i5O9T2DyUXk55EhapUk7cSBCR5JYV-zrfDXDErg2olhGYlTUtCC2Oq_Ocb6f/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A34%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO38v3_eohTkxMC7REDQ1D59-FJUdPLxTcKfkG4g5mziS-sIhQjp7f6urPk_iDfN8xy3tt0nD2i5O9T2DyUXk55EhapUk7cSBCR5JYV-zrfDXDErg2olhGYlTUtCC2Oq_Ocb6f/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A34%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418526.2944" class="clearleft" width="500" height="298" alt=""></a></div>The fish course was Pan Fried Fillet of Local Cod<div>(originally Lovage but changed to) Spinach Pasta, Chantenay Carrot, Walnuts and Osietra Caviar . The perfect golden cod was fashioned as a high-rise scallop with a verdant quenelle of spaghetti (I don’t think it was ’alla chitarra’ - square cut) topped with dollop-ette of caviar and a vibrant smear of carrot purée. The nut and fish combo was a new one on me and really added to this lovely plate. The wine is making everything pretty hazy by now but thanks to my cheat sheet I can read that the wine was a glass of Limoux ’Haute Vallée’ La Cave Des Sieurs D’Arques 2007 but I have no recollection. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQWW0RV4hmGSgKHd5f0bYQKSMZN1jkePgCn2jfhp2ErYhulSWG9-MnXG0YLp3LcEIAITHGuos_dC3joQdOnqiF-XYr2Wf30IxFLrRPS9xUGboJgx0szzEvcQEu7rI_Fizioj4/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A56%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQWW0RV4hmGSgKHd5f0bYQKSMZN1jkePgCn2jfhp2ErYhulSWG9-MnXG0YLp3LcEIAITHGuos_dC3joQdOnqiF-XYr2Wf30IxFLrRPS9xUGboJgx0szzEvcQEu7rI_Fizioj4/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A56%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418575.6611" class="clearleft" width="500" height="422" alt=""></a></div><div>So my antidote to dry turkey was the splendid Roasted Saddle of Venison with Root Vegetables, Braised Red Cabbage and Agen Prune, Sauce Grand Veneur. And this really was as good as it looks with deep, deep purple of that intensely meaty hunk of venison nestled up to the perfect roasted roots surrounded by a moat of rich burgundy, prune-y, red cabbage-y sauce. Yes, another sublime dish! This was perfectly washed down more if the wine I'd been enjoying at previous meals - the lip-smacking Malbec, Clos Des Andes, Reserva, Mendoza, Poesia 2006</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYi4_As-o8_zsTK5zDD-yim76nHobj44NvZC-Jn_wDWN4gLJkNOAqv1JVKUG724S7H6EVMZPga0orBD9f56vOrmkJ_qC38SMgR_ogreBkIdzY3IlDxL-D-OVnnSQxKUycNDiPp/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525203%25253A26%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYi4_As-o8_zsTK5zDD-yim76nHobj44NvZC-Jn_wDWN4gLJkNOAqv1JVKUG724S7H6EVMZPga0orBD9f56vOrmkJ_qC38SMgR_ogreBkIdzY3IlDxL-D-OVnnSQxKUycNDiPp/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525203%25253A26%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418555.866" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" alt=""></a></div><div>This curious misconception I had that the menu was less substantial than yesterdays convinced me that I'd have plenty of room for the optional Cheese Course. From the extensive selection I first eliminated the goat and blue ones I chose Brin D’amour, Brillat Trufflé, Sharpham Rustic and Lincolnshire Poacher - a bit of soft and a bit of tangy hard. My cheeses came accompanied with dried grapes, chutney, wedges of fig, a smooth slab of honey-sweet Membrillo and a napkin formed like a dinner jacket containing bread and crackers. The cheese was a nice little diversion but really there wasn't room at the inn. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwA066-Gi-HOd-DYBjspk-SDYS4z46KLMYeUbAWuhZDjeUnISvUH0fvhK_HEt-D9krdPgJBZWi2VmN__Gutp17URcCnm62xtx_0wweHRfjjoGxJ6zatRs4X8u9hLC5cF7yxB1w/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525204%25253A09%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwA066-Gi-HOd-DYBjspk-SDYS4z46KLMYeUbAWuhZDjeUnISvUH0fvhK_HEt-D9krdPgJBZWi2VmN__Gutp17URcCnm62xtx_0wweHRfjjoGxJ6zatRs4X8u9hLC5cF7yxB1w/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525204%25253A09%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418578.1543" class="clearleft" width="500" height="488" alt=""></a></div><div>I moved tables over to the window and to S and A so we could compare notes on our preparation for this meal (they walked further than me but I got oh so much wetter), our collective excessive food consumption and the highlights of our Christmas dining so far. I think it was A who said when confronted with Locally Grown Apples with Roasted Chestnuts and Dry Cider on the menu he had half expected an apple with a glass of cider. But no, the little joke was what we were really delivered was this elegantly refreshing pre-dessert of a wobbly panacotta, cider granita, apple balls, sorbet, crisp slices of apple and the slivers of essential festive flavour - roasted chestnuts. </div><div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pDHkW-tIbgB7YIz5Jegh4h78Z9cgmPvV2Jq3zcK2EzQUb8WlFljTOXFE6S0-_Mjbg6sij8TyHsC0IEdGljniv0KLsidJXud-EmMZipNcWFFs54eX7a-FnMNMgttWYC7yCzUi/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525204%25253A33%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pDHkW-tIbgB7YIz5Jegh4h78Z9cgmPvV2Jq3zcK2EzQUb8WlFljTOXFE6S0-_Mjbg6sij8TyHsC0IEdGljniv0KLsidJXud-EmMZipNcWFFs54eX7a-FnMNMgttWYC7yCzUi/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525204%25253A33%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444418539.9924" class="clearleft" width="500" height="436" alt=""></a></div><div>My final dish is a caged pear or more specifically a Poached Pear with Pain D’epice Ice Cream and Quince Puree. Thankfully this dish is perfectly balanced and whisper light so I'm able to taste everything. The juicy pear is surrounded by a little wall of that Burgundian speciality pain d’epice, thin spicy gingerbread that shatters on gentle impact. There's a pear-shaped scoop of the same flavour of ice cream, a smear of fruity quince purée and artful drizzles of caramel sauce. The dessert wine is Château Filhots, 2nd Cru Classé, Sauterne 2001.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_GSRcSJmP4_OIwfu_S5PWw0TxdPT4BrEsnA2iHve90s6C7lUik5JiIs43aiYyWiwWWVQsFIlCcQhLdXjS2vWqMQbF7ObBH1-TEac3GC9r1LME4Kbl9YN4LTDfb6cWCbfcq_1/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525205%25253A29%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_GSRcSJmP4_OIwfu_S5PWw0TxdPT4BrEsnA2iHve90s6C7lUik5JiIs43aiYyWiwWWVQsFIlCcQhLdXjS2vWqMQbF7ObBH1-TEac3GC9r1LME4Kbl9YN4LTDfb6cWCbfcq_1/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525205%25253A29%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325444551500.435" class="clearleft" width="492" height="512" align="left"></a></div><div>As I never drink coffee and rarely drink tea I don't end my meal like everyone else so as we’re still all enjoying our conversations I order hot water and get to also experience the petits fours. </div><div>In another moment of madness I'd pre-ordered the evening hamper in case the hunger pangs strike later. How on earth did I think that could possibly happen. There are only two words to describe how I feel now after all this fabulously delicious food and wine - utterly stuffed!</div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-80628199653625662011-12-25T12:08:00.001+00:002011-12-31T18:08:20.463+00:00A Christmas swim!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0UfhZ51b834eekzLfYQ_aDXTSLPSE1N1LccuXs8p4ep4pNfA0q28mJpoR0mBQbJXXlkYt6Djbjkq1ROm6UCTmv4Z0XDgCbQF5gP_ZKUGK3w48r_XUWC0YEcT1iVYO8RDRY15/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%25252011%25253A37%252520AM.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img align="left" class="clearleft" height="512" id="blogsy-1325344485894.415" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0UfhZ51b834eekzLfYQ_aDXTSLPSE1N1LccuXs8p4ep4pNfA0q28mJpoR0mBQbJXXlkYt6Djbjkq1ROm6UCTmv4Z0XDgCbQF5gP_ZKUGK3w48r_XUWC0YEcT1iVYO8RDRY15/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%25252011%25253A37%252520AM.jpg" width="347" /></a></div>Yesterday's schoolboy error of setting forth on a photographic excursion with mere moments of battery life available, is not going to be repeated, I'm more prepared today. I have three fully charged batteries, tripod and the neutral density filters I need. My plan is to return to the beach, stake out a couple of good spots and try and ’smash’ (in LA’s vernacular!) the creamy waves and smudgy clouds. I'm all set up, the weather is not as fine as yesterday, I spot S and A from the hotel setting forth for their constitutional to the botanic gardens but I'm on a mission so wish them well in their walk. I'm glued to the viewfinder, fully manual (yes, living on the edge!) and tweaking the aperture and shutter speeds oblivious to everything else. Apparently too oblivious as I didn't spot the much feistier waves today building up a head of steam and trying to wipe out the pesky photographer in their wake. Hmmm, I was wearing hiking boots (occasionally I don sensible footwear) but I needed waders it seemed. The waves soaked me up to my knees and filled my boots with sludgy sand and bits of seaweed, I suspect hiking socks would have been useful here. I figured that when I'd been doused once, then twice, then a third time that I'd just stick it out until I had something I quite liked. Apparently photography is not supposed to be easy - Magnum’s Robert Capa said “If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough”, best not to mention what happened to him, but I'm fairly confident I'm not going to drown so I can suffer a little more for my art. Not sure my boots will ever be the same again by I captured something at least and this time I didn't run out of power!Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-70869910967429262082011-12-25T09:11:00.000+00:002011-12-31T20:34:28.058+00:00It's Christmaaaas!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MFLSdsa9meo/Tv8Vy93GPEI/AAAAAAAAHiY/z0NRF7BelMY/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A56%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MFLSdsa9meo/Tv8Vy93GPEI/AAAAAAAAHiY/z0NRF7BelMY/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A56%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325363875283.3628" class="clearleft" width="412" height="512" alt=""></a></div><div>I had a lovely surprise from my team but especially the gorgeous other J and the fabulous new H. They had secretly organized the assembly of an intriguingly jingly, lumpy, jolly Father Christmas stocking so “I'd have something to open on Christmas Day”. I had sworn not the peek and I hadn't, not even the tiniest bit. I'd carefully packed the stocking for its Speedcat ride over to the Isle of Wight and hung it up on the door handle in lieu of a suitable fireplace and now it's time for the grand unveiling. But I did say I'd be down for breakfast nice and early (to maximise the recovery time before lunch) with the other festive guests so I'd would just have to wait a little bit longer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCSQD_RgZ8qFprtgIpkfrtDOHaumvmzVJAOP0rO8mk0crHStRCJ5Gyu2mGTcX6MDMMLgB0ehOps5GZP8v9Fybkps3R6h4CQCfIKti1HNkm9W0T21lz7AGPe2jiSlY8-UVc5Eh/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A04%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCSQD_RgZ8qFprtgIpkfrtDOHaumvmzVJAOP0rO8mk0crHStRCJ5Gyu2mGTcX6MDMMLgB0ehOps5GZP8v9Fybkps3R6h4CQCfIKti1HNkm9W0T21lz7AGPe2jiSlY8-UVc5Eh/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A04%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325363999007.6382" class="clearleft" width="500" height="466" align="left"></a></div><div>I'd calculated that the lightest of the breakfasts would be soft boiled egg with soldiers. But as I’m down so early the just-out-of-the-oven pain au chocolat aromas assail me as I arrive in the dining room. Perhaps if spend the interval between breakfast and lunch stomping around Ventnor I might justify the Christmas breakfast indulgence. </div><div>Boiled egg and soldiers was my special dish as a little girl and it still transports me back in a whirl of nostalgia. So I always want to keep the tradition and have to have my boiled eggs served ’old school’. That means the soldiers have to be a slice of buttered and untoasted white bread, cut into the requisite orderly columns. I must admit when I make soldiers I butter the bread first as it is so much less fiddly but that will be my fault for not pre-warning of my preference for untoasted bread. The eggs are local, clearly borne of happy chickens and have the most golden sunshiny yolks to dunk the buttered soldiers into. A perfect start to the day of festive fare. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpWZXhjeZ1wJdZzYAJlNg1IvnPrmgQl3JOwKt4jiUghqXeocA0zdtcHKx6_ex4d1aSsm4bHVqKFv9uFAH9346bxT6OQHhbGluyLz-VUg1ogWXtQ8necMfSx3uwysUJKzvgN2W/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A50%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpWZXhjeZ1wJdZzYAJlNg1IvnPrmgQl3JOwKt4jiUghqXeocA0zdtcHKx6_ex4d1aSsm4bHVqKFv9uFAH9346bxT6OQHhbGluyLz-VUg1ogWXtQ8necMfSx3uwysUJKzvgN2W/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252025%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A50%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325363875313.3064" class="clearleft" width="454" height="512" alt=""></a></div><div>Before getting on my hiking boots I'm champing at the bit to unwrap the contents of my intriguing jangly stocking and it's been so much worth the wait. They've surpassed themselves, in Father Christmas nether regions I discovered a delicate snowflake garland to decorate my room, fabulous new H’s cousin’s suitably seasonal novel The Snow Merchant to curl up with later, our team’s favourite-for-any-occasion Lindt truffles, glamorous bath confetti for future soaking and my beloved Coco Chanel perfumed lotion and the new season’s Chanel Black Pearl nail varnish. With these gifts you are thoroughly spoiling me! An incredibly happy Christmas to me! </div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-76603097290348059212011-12-24T23:59:00.000+00:002011-12-30T16:48:33.810+00:00T'was the night before Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRV989kgAyl98xo3FwD7JFECxu37cMB1Xu8RXTY3e84-nXa3jznm16d0Zg-3Av-d4Bq0lvEj2Rr_dYtsTWsnxHcbl50kRpAjjFXIfM75Yr_08zqqYocsT9wpbm6fQfiRAWaKVs/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRV989kgAyl98xo3FwD7JFECxu37cMB1Xu8RXTY3e84-nXa3jznm16d0Zg-3Av-d4Bq0lvEj2Rr_dYtsTWsnxHcbl50kRpAjjFXIfM75Yr_08zqqYocsT9wpbm6fQfiRAWaKVs/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758818.241" class="clearleft" width="461" height="512" alt=""></a></div><div>So dressed in my finery I join the other festive diners with an air of expectation, as for the hotel guests, we are embarking on our initial culinary adventure with the first of Robert Thompson’s three tasting menus. The non-residents, I suspect, have chosen their favourite of the menu trio also. I've selected the most elaborate for tonight's dinner, the slightly less extravagant for Christmas lunch and more modest for Boxing Day lunch. My rationale is that I've had time to summon a little hunger in preparation for the feast tonight, and I’ll have less time to work up an appetite tomorrow and the day after. At the corner table I see L and B from Christmas here last year. They are joined also by L’s sister C (or is it K?) We were the only people availing ourselves of the Hambrough’s chic boutique rooms last year but this year the hotel is full and I wonder which tables seat the other guests. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2i9AVd8RSTdsCQqiQWoolLM1YVn6jOIifqHvox633sWQJN8RmKog_WX7EC9BSYMhfTJUzSwoVcwXvbK-31wOg1fh1WQ8sSUy6kO298FnP9xIfcUBPFIdN6Q7G7sVTaX9JZos5/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2i9AVd8RSTdsCQqiQWoolLM1YVn6jOIifqHvox633sWQJN8RmKog_WX7EC9BSYMhfTJUzSwoVcwXvbK-31wOg1fh1WQ8sSUy6kO298FnP9xIfcUBPFIdN6Q7G7sVTaX9JZos5/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758783.6592" class="clearleft" width="500" height="482" alt=""></a></div><div>I start with the delicious gooey cheese filled gougères, this time on a square of slate, and a glass of cassis laced Champagne to get the tastebuds tingling. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TDptM9d6WrzXf7Ii6ZSBqLxqLmQkq_i24RQHzjkXpXPjrX2Ll8LUAZFc_mgJeMoEEywohhpqwX2W0z3bbZka-JdpgwodFNxC04lJmZxUogqsd3FD70adZZHuJjCg53NWNh5u/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TDptM9d6WrzXf7Ii6ZSBqLxqLmQkq_i24RQHzjkXpXPjrX2Ll8LUAZFc_mgJeMoEEywohhpqwX2W0z3bbZka-JdpgwodFNxC04lJmZxUogqsd3FD70adZZHuJjCg53NWNh5u/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758791.739" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" alt=""></a></div><div>Todays appetiser is a little white onion velouté topped with winter-warming chermoula foam.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4PQZQ9luKmtmzo1g9csYyEfb9pNhzkpboQJNC7eQUasNtfNPvDr9vxaailonuFUO6lK3DftYmUCELnawqNtpqfp9jzV7HM9Bx-wV6feiLksQs0caAlw3egt3Ew44dNwfKG5v/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A25%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4PQZQ9luKmtmzo1g9csYyEfb9pNhzkpboQJNC7eQUasNtfNPvDr9vxaailonuFUO6lK3DftYmUCELnawqNtpqfp9jzV7HM9Bx-wV6feiLksQs0caAlw3egt3Ew44dNwfKG5v/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A25%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758793.1772" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" alt=""></a></div><div>Next is the Mackerel with Island Potato and Osietra Caviar. The elegant cubes of fish, slivers of potato salad, nuggets of haricot vert are arranged in a tower of discs. I wouldn't generally choose a dish like mackerel but it had a delicate, clean taste with fresh iron-y zing of the pearls of caviar. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOqlESiwZR935VmrTjvBITOGtyC9f1R98s_ClIQk5Rd88Y9_yIocTUJPw8zbj6fliWPKDQ_tNsv5wEwWZoQDvWhcCM5jJPH77mBx1tU2lMfXQAylxzaCOrn11WQrvWOkbytZDD/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOqlESiwZR935VmrTjvBITOGtyC9f1R98s_ClIQk5Rd88Y9_yIocTUJPw8zbj6fliWPKDQ_tNsv5wEwWZoQDvWhcCM5jJPH77mBx1tU2lMfXQAylxzaCOrn11WQrvWOkbytZDD/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263904246.6833" class="clearleft" width="437" height="512" align="left"></a></div><div>One of my most favourite aromas starts to assail my senses as a soup dish of Velouté of Jerusalem Artichoke with Parmesan, Black Winter Truffle and Wild Mushroom Brioche is delivered. The soup is delicious, woodsy, creamy with tantalizing shards of Parmesan melting into its depth with a scattering of the finest chopped chive rings. But the star of the show is the slices of black truffle, the heady perfume extends to the baked-in-a-flowerpot warm brioche and the salt crystaled butter. Just layer upon layer of truffle-y goodness, this is nirvana, I've died and gone to epicurean heaven. Every morsel of this elixir is polished off, this is superb cooking. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtHCQ4kXgshCpANXj4dpJenLfzg6xx_LQwQuG_YvJYczv5v0li2VVjSJ60ZFb0INJaFIHIH416KKv7s93piZnNMv1YUwEl1_CWdho6QvJBv6Os3uvCy4Lmw76cCDY4CDYBb6U/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtHCQ4kXgshCpANXj4dpJenLfzg6xx_LQwQuG_YvJYczv5v0li2VVjSJ60ZFb0INJaFIHIH416KKv7s93piZnNMv1YUwEl1_CWdho6QvJBv6Os3uvCy4Lmw76cCDY4CDYBb6U/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758810.3022" class="clearleft" width="500" height="402" alt=""></a></div><div>The Pressing of Foie Gras and Wild Duck, Caramelised Clementine Puree, Pain d’epice and Watercress Salad is a smooth marbled slab of delicate meaty morsels bordered by two walls of the thinnest, crispiest spicy ginger bread. Each forkful can be dunked in the tangy streaks of vibrant clementine. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOU_MJb8NM94xyh2AL98pF6XzWd1K8_p0e8iQvPHMmOQ_qDwLUJm5OdgPs-FAW2YVUBStGS48VoT3ytO1eFPf_ZjGgudvchuhi3DvKao1Sp_VrL66ox2dPtJ2P5RQYCJyf-kIG/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A05%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOU_MJb8NM94xyh2AL98pF6XzWd1K8_p0e8iQvPHMmOQ_qDwLUJm5OdgPs-FAW2YVUBStGS48VoT3ytO1eFPf_ZjGgudvchuhi3DvKao1Sp_VrL66ox2dPtJ2P5RQYCJyf-kIG/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A05%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758772.3533" class="clearleft" width="500" height="483" alt=""></a></div><div>One fresh pasta cushion filled with light chunks of langoustine surrounded by autumnal spheres of pumpkin partially submerged under nutty foam or otherwise Raviole of Langoustine, Pumpkin with Sautéed Swiss Chard and Almond Cappuccino.</div><div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVb4anvF20XkT3iQL1dV0pQv-hFufjvjfAJ6gbMq1q3KewjkvnLo8H9DvQY_67GP0JWoZj_jXZbEYhPb1LzWbJBTyZv5zgFDAv2h7BUZfd48j7rZ4k0faYd2TU3IeDKdTlsSC/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVb4anvF20XkT3iQL1dV0pQv-hFufjvjfAJ6gbMq1q3KewjkvnLo8H9DvQY_67GP0JWoZj_jXZbEYhPb1LzWbJBTyZv5zgFDAv2h7BUZfd48j7rZ4k0faYd2TU3IeDKdTlsSC/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758788.8594" class="clearleft" width="500" height="490" alt=""></a></div><div>I'm starting to fade a little so have asked for a rest after my fish course. What I have awaiting me is a beautiful hunk of burnished golden Cornish Turbot on the Bone. Stew of Cannelloni Beans, Clams, Cockles and Horseradish. I always think that open clams add a quintessential flash of seashore sunshine to a meal and this is how this dish makes me feel. It’s too dark to see the sea outside but I can enjoy the seaside on my plate. The turbot yields to white soft flakes at the merest fork, there are, annoyingly, more bones than I'd like to spoil my eating pleasure (and I don't mean the bone it’s cooked on!) but fish can be infuriating like that. I've never been a huge fan of cannelloni beans, and I'm still not convinced but I gave them a try. I do like a subtle kick of horseradish however, this horseradish was very subtle, really too subtle, I only believed it was in the dish because the menu told me so. </div><div>The beef is coming next and I'm having a breather with a fine Malbec checking out the other diners with that contented, well-fed buzz around the room.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1N1K8taq7dfG7p22ZDSdBUYHjhClUYUIbaJH2JTEOD9mE8UFDlvhKXLWhDV8nLI86rk9AIeK1-NU35_7HhOIWP8yUNqr9XWB_I1OHvia0KyRPNGNr9ADD1ArynA9q-9V4dRY/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A02%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1N1K8taq7dfG7p22ZDSdBUYHjhClUYUIbaJH2JTEOD9mE8UFDlvhKXLWhDV8nLI86rk9AIeK1-NU35_7HhOIWP8yUNqr9XWB_I1OHvia0KyRPNGNr9ADD1ArynA9q-9V4dRY/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A02%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758785.186" class="clearleft" width="500" height="352" alt=""></a></div><div>After the longest pause I can muster the main event arrives. Island Beef with Potato Gnocci, Crispy Braised</div><div>Oxtail, Salsify and Trompette de le Mort, Oxtail Jus and Parsley Oil. I was fairly sure I would struggle to eat another morsel but here we have draped rosy slices of the rare fillet on top of a flat cake of crunchy oxtail-y loveliness. Then there is the beautifully bronzed salsify, dark dense mushrooms and creamy cauliflower puree. The potato gnocchi were so superior to the lumpen ones last night, still firm but not stodgy. </div><div>And for the final flourish the entire dish is decorated with Jackson Pollock splashes of verdant parsley oil.</div><div>Even though I've said how full I am, my waitress asks me if I'd like to partake in the optional cheese course, which is pretty funny. I'd like to at one meal but perhaps with one of the smaller menus. </div><p class=""><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DZLyH_8mrNjoz_LMaupC-5he4WQJFA03hXwDmbSJzu4vqPbJtRSDFfbIgwY7bnEtbImuJjDuKKKa9VyLKhJRsb1-xNKPfR_TpbpejP1QsNKaNbgVfqpU13A65qSwkOewpc3i/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A36%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=""></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-_aLHbECtFu0/Tv3MAJT8BSI/AAAAAAAAHh0/455m1_YCv3M/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A25%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-_aLHbECtFu0/Tv3MAJT8BSI/AAAAAAAAHh0/455m1_YCv3M/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A25%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758799.7603" class="alignleft" width="398" height="512" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; ">The pre-dessert of Sloe Gin Jelly with Pink Champagne Foam is a welcome, light, refreshing and restoring, I'm nearly at the home straight now. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DZLyH_8mrNjoz_LMaupC-5he4WQJFA03hXwDmbSJzu4vqPbJtRSDFfbIgwY7bnEtbImuJjDuKKKa9VyLKhJRsb1-xNKPfR_TpbpejP1QsNKaNbgVfqpU13A65qSwkOewpc3i/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A36%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DZLyH_8mrNjoz_LMaupC-5he4WQJFA03hXwDmbSJzu4vqPbJtRSDFfbIgwY7bnEtbImuJjDuKKKa9VyLKhJRsb1-xNKPfR_TpbpejP1QsNKaNbgVfqpU13A65qSwkOewpc3i/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A36%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325263758800.1191" class="clearleft" width="439" height="512" alt=""></a></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">The signature dessert of the three tasting menus is in front of me - the Dark Chocolate and Hazelnut Layered Parfait with Hazelnut Tuille. The stylish layers of rich chocolate and hazelnut with airy crispy shards of tuille and extravagant wisps of edible gold. Think Michelin starred Nutella! It's picture perfect and I'm admiring its stature whilst chatting to my neighbours on the next table. S and her husband A used to live in the Isle of Wight and can impart oodles of local knowledge which I hope I can profit from. And we also share a love of the Orient Express extravaganzas. We swap experiences of my trip to Venice and across the US and S and A’s fabulous holiday exploring castles in Scotland on the newly restored Royal Scotsman. We are so absorbed in our tales my dessert keels over with my neglect. The few mouthfuls I have however are very good indeed. It’s actually after midnight when we finish our drinks and retire to our rooms - so “Merry Christmas”, tomorrow is another day of culinary indulgence - oh my!</span></div></div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-37236762486126394702011-12-24T17:11:00.000+00:002011-12-29T07:34:19.173+00:00Don't forget your batteries!<div class="separator" style="text-align: center;clear: both; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWW-XF3-zC7D3xM88PtBi7J4vL7HgaXGKnSf_hOcKPFe5ACZxY9425pmAVFatepcmPR0Z2H1SxxhRsmD0H8hHS8FcIQFPOapof5skcS0swOYjE0ubJQy2_Wp_JQNl3xZDCEFfU/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525203%25253A55%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title=""><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWW-XF3-zC7D3xM88PtBi7J4vL7HgaXGKnSf_hOcKPFe5ACZxY9425pmAVFatepcmPR0Z2H1SxxhRsmD0H8hHS8FcIQFPOapof5skcS0swOYjE0ubJQy2_Wp_JQNl3xZDCEFfU/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525203%25253A55%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325144353087.5874" class="alignnone" alt="" width="358" height="512"></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">I'd been determined to build up an appetite for the first and most elaborate of the tasting menus by not eating from breakfast until dinner and taking in plenty of lungfuls of sea air. As I'd lugged my tripod, filters and all the camera accoutrements with me over to the island I was very much hoping to capture some picturesque winter seascapes. Suitably clad in sparkly hiking boots (well, it is Christmas) I locate a spot on the beach that has a nice view of one of the distinctive red coastal hazard markers and set up. </span></div><div><div>I'm crossing my fingers I might get some attractive shots at sunset but the sky doesn't look promising. I am well prepared, I've even braved a long queue of locals in Boots buying last minute perfumes and indigestion preparations to procure a shiny new SD card for my camera. I fire off a couple of test shots then screw on the filters to slow the crashing waves down. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;clear: both; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JpqCQ6xmbiQESgw5DpAUIU7bt7MR47-VgljyqDi4jWIMkynsQwW6vY_NiyOJjgIzcs1K_uPc5aVoxfcxgaWpdCIApvXiHO2gP2pphN1t3wRltYYz-7BkiQC5t7ybRMCHM_Bi/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A53%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JpqCQ6xmbiQESgw5DpAUIU7bt7MR47-VgljyqDi4jWIMkynsQwW6vY_NiyOJjgIzcs1K_uPc5aVoxfcxgaWpdCIApvXiHO2gP2pphN1t3wRltYYz-7BkiQC5t7ybRMCHM_Bi/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525202%25253A53%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325144353054.7402" class="clearleft" alt="" width="288" height="512"></a></div><div>A couple of clicks and the inevitable slow shutter drains the camera battery almost immediately. But no fear, of course I've bought a spare with me. However when I spot that it's upside down in the battery holder I know this one is flat also. And my third? Well that's fully charged and back up the hill again in my hotel room. And typically, as I throw in the towel, wipe my tripod of sand and pack everything away the clouds clear slightly. And as the clouds become wispier the gold, yellow ochre and tangerine streaks start to emerge and I am camera-less. Most definitely a schoolboy error! Perhaps if I rush back up the hill, shake the beach off my boots and grab the last remaining battery from my other bag in my hotel room, there might a chance I preserve the Christmas Eve sunset. Around me everyone is holding their camera phones aloft and each time I turn around the sky has bruised further, and the indigo was merging with the orange streaks. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;clear: both; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyN08GgnU-RWU34gG1ZMaNSRYPU5SeJJf6KZfSzwvFzFn1M08d7agCCuU2AVdsAO4qxTuVjQCNe8nQbGJohZnZwOltSUnWdCd__sLLRIKfWCbpTmCewXEIEso2XBw0Pw_9ZE5A/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525204%25253A12%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyN08GgnU-RWU34gG1ZMaNSRYPU5SeJJf6KZfSzwvFzFn1M08d7agCCuU2AVdsAO4qxTuVjQCNe8nQbGJohZnZwOltSUnWdCd__sLLRIKfWCbpTmCewXEIEso2XBw0Pw_9ZE5A/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252024%25252C%2525202011%2525204%25253A12%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325144353098.452" class="clearleft" alt="" width="342" height="512"></a></div><div>There wasn't time to return to the beach but I did manage to get a few hand held shots squeezing in between the parked cars and peering over the balustrades. Tomorrow, I will try again but with plenty of batteries!</div></div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-4509943190935133972011-12-23T22:58:00.000+00:002011-12-28T19:53:27.820+00:00Christmas Eve Eve at the Pond Café<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9hQWssGWJTs/TvtyE7rqs4I/AAAAAAAAHfg/xyUsr_m_lBQ/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9hQWssGWJTs/TvtyE7rqs4I/AAAAAAAAHfg/xyUsr_m_lBQ/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325102094531.6362" class="aligncenter" width="433" height="512" align="center" alt=""></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Considering the gourmet marathon I was embarking on I had opted to temper the full indulgence by booking a table at the Pond Cafe, Robert Thompson’s more casual establishment in Bonchurch. I tried to visit last year but their Christmas opening hours coupled with not being able to consume another morsel pretty much for the duration of the entire trip meant I hadn't wandered that far. The Hambrough ordered me a taxi, a courtesy I gratefully accepted as a constitutional on Ventnor beach strapped into hiking boots was one thing but venturing forth to another village clad in high heeled sequinned shoes seemed insensible. </span></div><div>I'd purposely not eaten since breakfast to ensure a good appetite for the evening. I’d spent the day exploring Ventnor’s little shops on finding them open for the first time and was deposited outside the Pond Café feeling quite ready for the spread ahead. The pond that gives the name to the restaurant is directly opposite and though thankfully the sky isn't polluted with the sodium lights that turns the sky so orange back home I could still discern a fine flock of ducks that paddled over to see the new arrival. Sadly I hadn't thought to bring bread. The taxi driver mentioned as he restarted the engine that he thought the restaurant looked empty and he was quite right, I was the only diner. I hoped I was just early and was soon assured that I was the only booking. An old friend, N, had a curious fear of empty restaurants, didn't like the soul attention and would demand we sought a livelier place. In fact his oft used phrase, especially when seeking a suitable eatery when travelling, was an insistence we avoid a place as on glancing through the window he declared that it was “full of murderers!” I do feel, however, he must have been mistaken as the likelihood of a little French village being able to congregate so many cut-throat killers seemed awfully slim! I haven't heard he has since stumbled upon some den of assassins so assume his dining out in the last few years has been less perilous. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RigcGoMGmnM/TvtyJ03xXeI/AAAAAAAAHfo/r5K1VF3iXLA/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RigcGoMGmnM/TvtyJ03xXeI/AAAAAAAAHfo/r5K1VF3iXLA/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325102143757.479" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" align="left"></a></div><div>I am rather embarrassed being the only diner. I suspect the staff would rather be putting their feet up on Christmas Eve Eve but I'd thwarted that plan. I rather admired the Christmas decor in the restaurant, it was probably no coincidence seeing I recognised a few duplicates to my own decorations - particularly the sparkly black Christmas trees adorning the tables. </div><div>The menu was more Mediterranean or Italian than back in the hotel and a few old favourites leapt out at me. I started with the Local Beef - thinly sliced raw beef, rocket, Parmesan, pine nuts and olive oil. I like a good Carpaccio and prefer it when it is served with Parmesan and drizzles of olive oil rather than the original Harry's Bar sauce. The rosy slices were chilled and refreshing and alongside the warm-from-the-oven focaccia a delightful start to my light(ish) meal. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsYZtt-Bv6fOjxvuge7KekdoEfX_G55sfYaA6WbxKG0k_yjy3bx262XVVCTJLlkWMrJCowSDQ5LOxLEtKWKDztGD4Bc8YC0i-vV2NknquQfEjeRrn5mpiCAJW6ZnuQ5YRFuzw/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A29%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsYZtt-Bv6fOjxvuge7KekdoEfX_G55sfYaA6WbxKG0k_yjy3bx262XVVCTJLlkWMrJCowSDQ5LOxLEtKWKDztGD4Bc8YC0i-vV2NknquQfEjeRrn5mpiCAJW6ZnuQ5YRFuzw/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A29%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325102177938.214" class="clearleft" width="500" height="443" align="left"></a></div><div>Believing that Carpaccio doesn't really fill me (I may regret that belief later) I next tuck into Raviole - organic pumpkin, sage, ricotta and Parmesan. I always like a fresh pasta and the pumpkin makes it all delicately Autumnal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwVwmzQIhKmhOVomvQeH5JJwk3fKueiEKC7heYm5bmNEXr9yp97uejx9hd-UmsLxxyvT3wtwk05Cta9uCOf_TBUozE3Av73uWQOdmJSOfFUSpPh8mNPXP8S5prFNDdWkbrXiX/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A46%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwVwmzQIhKmhOVomvQeH5JJwk3fKueiEKC7heYm5bmNEXr9yp97uejx9hd-UmsLxxyvT3wtwk05Cta9uCOf_TBUozE3Av73uWQOdmJSOfFUSpPh8mNPXP8S5prFNDdWkbrXiX/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525208%25253A46%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325102185600.5398" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" align="left"></a></div><div>For my main I've avoided anything that will clash with the taste odyssey I will embark on tomorrow. So knowing you can never go wrong with Pork Belly - slow roasted with thyme, anchovies and lemon, potato gnocchi, wilted chard and pumpkin I choose that with a side of black cabbage. I'm expecting moist, juicy, meltingly tender pork and little fluffy pillows of potato gnocchi but to my amazement it just didn't deliver. The pork was tasty but surprisingly a tad dry, and the gnocchi were dense - more akin to dumplings. I was shocked, I haven't had any dish associated with the Hambrough or Robert Thompson that has given me pause and when the waitress sees me staring at the plate in astonishment she immediately wondered how she could assist. Her suggestion was a red wine sauce which was speedily whipped up, and it helped a little with the pork but the stodgy gnocchi were sadly unredeemable. The nuggets of roasted pumpkin were a triumph though and I should have just eaten those and been happier with my fare. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Q2Um-uGlnmRm79GOzKCMFKPhkkQ6nxsQyWYujRC3H88VfC6T0Ktrvv8Vriga067HX3UyIcp4T5Sss8iTkvqjy8ZR4LbzvpBYBzLUBLJRMl9RbmwdQplveTP6sVnaEYMbCwER/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A28%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Q2Um-uGlnmRm79GOzKCMFKPhkkQ6nxsQyWYujRC3H88VfC6T0Ktrvv8Vriga067HX3UyIcp4T5Sss8iTkvqjy8ZR4LbzvpBYBzLUBLJRMl9RbmwdQplveTP6sVnaEYMbCwER/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A28%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1325102191940.199" class="clearleft" width="437" height="512" align="left"></a></div><div>By now I'm actually feeling rather full (though it would have been worse if I'd eaten the gnocchi). Clearly my confidence in ordering two starters was misplaced. I thought I may be able to go for the sweet finish with the bitter chocolate sorbet from the pear and almond glazed tart with red wine. I imagined I'd get a single velvety mound but I presented with these abundant shiny globes of grown up bitter chocolatey sorbet. I could barely make a dent but I enjoyed what I tasted. Time to get back to my hotel and let the staff enjoy their final Christmas preparations. </div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-91972939871068272842011-12-23T10:16:00.000+00:002011-12-25T09:13:37.054+00:00Starting the day in style!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwe8qRpJtKYeUravCXwnyDobTTeTOlpTiFB7jw9weZSAsbK0bKOFG_BMRv9kI7UP-UQn73_2yU-S1FrKFVJAbJucXaGLBr54z9uQxZKzNJMjdqLT6FHq_v334eMWEC2mFyIRT/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A37%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwe8qRpJtKYeUravCXwnyDobTTeTOlpTiFB7jw9weZSAsbK0bKOFG_BMRv9kI7UP-UQn73_2yU-S1FrKFVJAbJucXaGLBr54z9uQxZKzNJMjdqLT6FHq_v334eMWEC2mFyIRT/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252023%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A37%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324804709293.7168" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" align="left"></a></div>Well not technically, as the tray would have been a little tricky to manoeuvre, but in my room at least. I don't generally avail myself of hotel room service, I'm not sure why. Perhaps I think it won't be as nice as what's on offer in the dining room or I’ll miss something but as I was the last to leave the dining room last night it was suggested I may like to take them up on their kind offer. And it was perfect start to my first morning here and added to the indulgence of the whole experience. So I could wrap myself in a fluffy robe and receive first a tray laden with a silver toast rack, condiments, teapot and linen. Followed by a second knock to bring my full cooked breakfast and then a third to bring me a caramelised apple on a small slate. How chic to have an amuse bouche with breakfast!<div>The 'full English', with the barest of reminders to exclude the tomato (they had remembered!) comprises of a plump, juicy sausage, a smaller sausage of the moistest, crumbliest of black pudding, tasty dry cure bacon, sautéed mushrooms and a golden yolked egg. Oh I could get used to this. </div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-74020682529099553342011-12-22T23:45:00.000+00:002011-12-25T09:16:03.530+00:00Let the feasting begin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaS6U57cadaajfaHhntiNPXd_9qveXtSLIRPSHmxyQAWjBYX3vrmjesmcKxIZpazq1TEbiZ7TS1K7S3E4CVr4D-T4N2e7QL3b6Y6qOuy0PwT-WQE6n_WsJps5lEhDV711fh6p/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A13%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaS6U57cadaajfaHhntiNPXd_9qveXtSLIRPSHmxyQAWjBYX3vrmjesmcKxIZpazq1TEbiZ7TS1K7S3E4CVr4D-T4N2e7QL3b6Y6qOuy0PwT-WQE6n_WsJps5lEhDV711fh6p/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A13%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324763680719.2263" class="clearleft" width="500" height="371" align="left"></a></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">I knew I hadn't blogged for ages but on examination on my old daily companion I was shocked to discover it was nearly a whole twelve months since I last committed foodie thoughts electronically and was, curiously, the previous time I was in the Isle of Wight. And after pondering a couple of months ago whether it was preferable to explore a whole new destination or revisit a tried, tested and loved old friend I plumped to return to Ventnor in the Isle of Wight and avail myself of the extreme delight of Robert Thompson's fine, fine dining at the Hambrough for Christmas again. </span><br />
</div><div>Last year was my first foray to the island so everything from the quirky old tube trains that whisk you from the ferry port at Ryde to the end of the line at Shanklin, to the festive branches and baubles adorning the bannisters wending their way up to my boutique bedroom was new and pleasant surprise. This time I'm an old hand so I didn't go looking for how to purchase a ticket for the old tube train as I knew you just paid the conductor on board, I knew how close my hotel was to the beach and I knew those enticing aromas wafting up from kitchen promised untold culinary delights and I couldn't wait to quickly unpack and reacquaint myself to the elegant chocolate dining room. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-bhTmOTMNMfUkPuc5yha_X8ZCkY9y3qHGsg6hGf_EdAJqrkm8fRyt-BM8w6ptnPRwDwJq_sWmgrRBF0HoRxaJLEXB-xvmq2VqGgz47T-dC-_l-FgzkfKwKg2Ivyeh6gEbBYJ/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A40%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-bhTmOTMNMfUkPuc5yha_X8ZCkY9y3qHGsg6hGf_EdAJqrkm8fRyt-BM8w6ptnPRwDwJq_sWmgrRBF0HoRxaJLEXB-xvmq2VqGgz47T-dC-_l-FgzkfKwKg2Ivyeh6gEbBYJ/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A40%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324764037485.59" class="clearleft" width="500" height="281" align="left"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-bhTmOTMNMfUkPuc5yha_X8ZCkY9y3qHGsg6hGf_EdAJqrkm8fRyt-BM8w6ptnPRwDwJq_sWmgrRBF0HoRxaJLEXB-xvmq2VqGgz47T-dC-_l-FgzkfKwKg2Ivyeh6gEbBYJ/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%2525209%25253A40%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; "><font class="Apple-style-span" color="#000000"></font></a><div>It's lovely to see familiar faces from last year, it's not just the guests that like being here. I've arrived later than planned, I was distracted by some last minute sorting out, meeting baby N for the first time, a final farewell to E(D) and a minor diversion to acquire some new sparkle. Leaving later meant that gaps occurred in the journey and I only arrived barely moments before the deadline for the kitchen being unable to accept new diners. </div><div>I am swiftly furnished with a small stone brandishing some deliciously oozy cheesy filled gougères and I'm pleased I didn't succumb to snacking en route so I can do all the anticipated delights justice. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-lsRl0DhI7QA/TvZGrfV1xTI/AAAAAAAAHeY/jWtJjw6BZyI/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A01%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-lsRl0DhI7QA/TvZGrfV1xTI/AAAAAAAAHeY/jWtJjw6BZyI/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A01%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324763711282.3167" class="clearleft" width="500" height="447" align="left"></a></div><div>After perusing the à la carte and weighing carefully the options so as not to clash with the three tasting menus on offer for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day, I make my choices and a flavoursome white onion velouté topped with sage foam arrives. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaS6U57cadaajfaHhntiNPXd_9qveXtSLIRPSHmxyQAWjBYX3vrmjesmcKxIZpazq1TEbiZ7TS1K7S3E4CVr4D-T4N2e7QL3b6Y6qOuy0PwT-WQE6n_WsJps5lEhDV711fh6p/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A13%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaS6U57cadaajfaHhntiNPXd_9qveXtSLIRPSHmxyQAWjBYX3vrmjesmcKxIZpazq1TEbiZ7TS1K7S3E4CVr4D-T4N2e7QL3b6Y6qOuy0PwT-WQE6n_WsJps5lEhDV711fh6p/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A13%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324763627339.5435" class="clearleft" width="500" height="371" align="left"></a></div><div>Next it's the Pressing of Lightly Smoked Eel with Foie Gras, Pork Belly and Granny Smith Apple Celeriac Remoulade and Toasted Brioche. By happy accident I've ordered Robert's signature dish straight off the bat and on arrival with a small fanfare I'm immediately reminded of why I've returned here. The food is first a feast for the eyes and then each forkful adds another layer of delightful taste. The long glass plate comes replete with an elegant band of the moist, juicy morsels and little mounds of the creamy remoulade scattered with micro cress. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQzUvYN0wYF6BLlLzmFE3m9VAkCseVswE21MWPQRKBmx84hyphenhyphen1-0uY8mMjj_jr48XWPogtrc2HStPssJJ-kLuJwad-1qKNukHU7amUuKcVYSfsCqpQk7ULehS2P5FKmeuMweViz/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A33%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQzUvYN0wYF6BLlLzmFE3m9VAkCseVswE21MWPQRKBmx84hyphenhyphen1-0uY8mMjj_jr48XWPogtrc2HStPssJJ-kLuJwad-1qKNukHU7amUuKcVYSfsCqpQk7ULehS2P5FKmeuMweViz/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252010%25253A33%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324763728972.927" class="clearleft" width="500" height="315" align="left"></a></div><div>My next treat is the elegant Oven Roasted Anjou Squab Pigeon with Braised Crispy Leg Foie Gras Sauce and Pommes Anna Local Rainbow Chard. As usual I go a little menu blind when I see words like Foie Gras, Truffle, Mash Potato and Chocolate. And I've chosen well again, This is just perfect, the rosy pigeon breasts, the tiny crunchy leg, the diminutive roundel of potato cake and the subtle creamy foie gras sauce. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicv3XxvoywVpKNRYLvh32dXj7Y3nhiBc43n8aCl4xQh56vQo1f9x_PCUEG2pJqG6kMwe0bUpko4DSxdAoaDZtzkpTCEfQQP_2-i4FtbEljY4T35h5LBOvCEUTHv6J3oW2E-Al/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252011%25253A04%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicv3XxvoywVpKNRYLvh32dXj7Y3nhiBc43n8aCl4xQh56vQo1f9x_PCUEG2pJqG6kMwe0bUpko4DSxdAoaDZtzkpTCEfQQP_2-i4FtbEljY4T35h5LBOvCEUTHv6J3oW2E-Al/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252011%25253A04%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324763779491.1985" class="clearleft" width="492" height="512" align="left"></a></div><div>The palate cleanser or pre-dessert is a zesty, fresh clementine soup with cranberries, yoghurt sorbet and meringue. The meringue look either like tiny cotton buds or large matchsticks and give a pleasing chewy texture to the soupy clementine with little tarty nuggets of cranberries. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xHw33d7EyeY/TvZHhG-zDNI/AAAAAAAAHe4/cXO-tWgwXw4/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252011%25253A17%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xHw33d7EyeY/TvZHhG-zDNI/AAAAAAAAHe4/cXO-tWgwXw4/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252022%25252C%2525202011%25252011%25253A17%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324763838918.3418" class="clearleft" width="500" height="500" align="left"></a></div><div>Typically they had me at chocolate, the signature dessert is Tarte Tatin, if you go for this you have to put your hand up at the beginning of the meal. It sounded interesting but I was alarmed that it was for two. Another table had opted for this and they got half each. Though admittedly were defeated as asked for a doggie bag. I didn't really fancy Tarte Tatin for breakfast so instead chose the Manjari Chocolate and Passion Fruit Marquise, Grue de Cacao, Chicory Ice Cream. An ideal finish, crunchy shards of chocolate, a fruit smear of passion fruit, deep, rich chocolate and the whisper of chicory in the ice cream. A more than auspicious start to my gourmet Christmas holiday. </div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-41658158090787387322011-03-13T23:43:00.000+00:002011-03-14T01:47:25.238+00:00Red Dot Snapper<br /><br /><center><a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5583746295125271858'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvVkFJofOHGbiftoKdgerCmdJ9Dwi13BGHCtfidIHq_2BjngllSDiadw3M8-zuCzbmPFLzI9pLH3QPRYUdW8TNPOg-6P2vCkWsdt9v2hgH5EG8Tb4ogV6QgCoQVDAVKqpJcMn/s288/5.jpg' border='0' width='250' height='168' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Seeing as I'm struggling to keep one blog up to date it does seem a rather bizarre decision to start a brand new blog. But there is method to my madness! Last year in an attempt to beef up my food photography I splashed out on better camera. And then I realised that I needed to learn how to master all that extra cleverness. And much to my shock I started to take the odd picture that wasn't food related! This new blog records my travails with my lovely little Leica and will be a space to record a year long photographic project I've just signed up for.<br />My thought was that I'd just upload all the photos without the verbiage, but I don't seem to be terribly good at that. Now I have a backlog of two blogs to catch up on, I'm petitioning for a few more hours in the day. Wish me luck on that!<br />Click here for the non-food photography blog - <a target="_blank" href="http://reddotsnapper.blogspot.com">Red Dot Snapper</a><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-59627557960553013692010-12-30T17:47:00.000+00:002011-01-21T17:47:59.378+00:00The party's nearly over!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5564697304603831794'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnwnS4DCtcoVO5-18XymWqQYe7jr4qBcxbSins8cR3xvWo6J97f2MX5BHY0RRuzHO0LJD2uDDfj73ivdPsSgR8-AMd6Vysx2mSOfDs4Ih7C1gL-ytQS51zRNQxEA907UDy0qd/s288/5.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='194' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I awake with a sigh, my little foray across the Solent is nearly at an end. At least I can see the sea today from my balcony as I watch the last vestiges of the sunrise disappear, perhaps my camera will have a happier day. At breakfast all the guests are fascinated by the red squirrels flitting back and forth outside the windows. None of us have ever seen a red squirrel, well in the flesh as it were, their beefier grey American cousins have put paid to them almost entirely in England, they fare slightly better in Scotland and Ireland however. I see the grey ones everyday, they're generally running up and down the trees outside my windows, chattering away. They are pretty bold, street-wise city squirrels and seem to show no fear. These slighter, more delicate, shyer long-eared red ones seem to be a lot more cautious and never linger but for the merest moment in one spot lest something should pounce. I make it my mission today to shoot one. I hasten to say with my camera only. Knowing I have nothing remotely resembling a true telephoto I'm going have to try a bit of sneaking up on them whilst they gorge at the handy nut feeders positioned near to the house. Hmmm, I wonder how successful that plan will be. But first it's back to the beach. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5564697322267495666'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmwVqZvbk2gD3_4qagG5j0s-JGOlUGih3aWresFxJDh_hSzB7WLH6OurxwJfSkS6PxgAUdVHJmN86L3sgpSp-fWkBRiF8M3aujchBW252UNMkjjdPkhyphenhyphen3Q9cFurclQc6MsLJZ/s288/6.jpg' border='0' width='188' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My first shock is that there's scenery, a lot if it, both to the left and right. Yesterday it was just walls of white. Today there are kites flying and dogs cheerily chasing crows and splashing about in the water. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5564697338579963058'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC06zUxWL2Sn_c1qT7a14nNMZekWLEIiPCnnOE6AOj0Y4azh-V562CDd_tCOMEUCEuHH1c3hSXkIP-QMEDTkxcbY8DyhKTWPQJgDdtwN5TdUdInnglCpe6Og7EBrDfIYTCxkfn/s288/7.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='188' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />There is a slither of blue sky this afternoon, not enough "to make a sailor a pair of trousers" so I doubt it will improve. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5564697357410979138'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Wy9yPvNwl8zXb1XKr-vacnMpDT0f3u_tKSURyiPgOfvTwgGmArt24_OUPONgMqR5vdu94UZ5TSfykiTanM8haBFSUujWCROuKXhkMR4arG4Nt5izOvjHFb3o4XC1qytDjmC9/s288/8.jpg' border='0' width='193' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The golden sand with an artful piece of driftwood being gently caressed by the frothy waves will sadly have to be an image solely in my head. The reality is a whole lot more stark, wintery, lacking the warmth and the light quality I crave so I will have to resort to a touch of Photoshop wizardry to juzz them up a bit! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5564697371017892290'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKf6Gj1Qu-mZcsruZipGBMtgTL17kCg_Sx5Uxkm7NBSDRwFmgYAXTnWno0OlHhxN4dLOhDqzDKBre-LeCnc7E6bDWWsAbYRuztuCPDi8UJUvs-U_8h7WTDESNSmDBf6Zq2Tey/s288/10.jpg' border='0' width='268' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />On returning from the beach I see if I can get one of those red squirrels in my sights. I find a couple cavorting in the trees near the house, but it's clear they are not going to let me get too close. In the end I decided that showing one of these flighty creatures against the backdrop of one of the perfect chocolate-box cottages would be very fitting.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/j.withfork/HaveForkWillTravel04?authkey=Gv1sRgCKaG5KuIy6ujcg#5564697389176869810'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF33IaboPHEu9ckWXsdMdyDKpHpS5ZCU6GDoPH5DV5iUZAbkpVGJLsuLS1oZf0QlGZri_bTqJr_8iuaSetkK4y_OnwZuBT3p2hQvaV8mGQe5MSkiaCQhAtjn-VZO3Xo-CU9ze3/s288/11.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='212' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />After the photography 'expedition' it had turned a little chillier (more like the weather I had at home before I left) so I had the perfect excuse to make myself cosy in front of the roaring fire. And after picture editing, writing, blogging and reading (a wonderfully chilling holiday afternoon) I decide to check out their afternoon tea. Somehow eating cucumber sandwiches and strawberry jammed scones seems too quintessentially English summer to consume in front of a crackling fire in mid-December, I tried adding a seasonal glass of mulled wine but it was still a little incongruous. But the smoked salmon and crab sandwiches were wonderfully fresh and appropriate for being so close to the sea, and the fruitcake did seem to make it feel more wintry. I would have rather liked something like a warm cheese scone (memories of Hoste Arms in Burnham Market on an incredibly rain-drenched August afternoon) but a non cheese scone slathered in strawberry jam is more afternoon tea. My only problem is now that it's not many hours until dinner, well that's easily dealt with I'll push back my table for tonight. I'd originally hoped to catch the dramatization of Nigel Slater's Toast as I don't have the luxury of Sky+ here but that's why they invented the heady combination of an iPad and BBC iPlayer I guess! Isn't technology a wonderful thing? <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-85881190342924563872010-12-29T22:19:00.000+00:002011-01-10T07:23:43.861+00:00A white Isle of Wight<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4911.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4911.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Today the white has descended! The Isle of Wight is truly white finally, but not with snow but with a swirling mist. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4912.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4912.jpg' border='0' width='238' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I try to see if I can still see the sea from my balcony but it's shrouded in the low cloud. However I still decide to venture down to the Priory Bay's private beach as it was too drizzly yesterday to check it out and perhaps I'll be luckier with the weather when I get there. But unsurprisingly I can stand on the beach, hear the waves crashing, but barely even see anything other than what's at my feet. I want to capture some shots as I know this is a truly a picturesque spot but the elements are conspiring against me. I manage to fire off a couple of slightly more interesting photographs of the wintery trees when the sky bruises as the sun we hadn't seen at all today disappears for good. However generally not a great photography day, I think it's back to chilling in the lounge of the house before dinner.<br />I've been reading up on the history of the Priory, they have a wonderfully eclectic collection of buildings, ruins and architecture making up the Priory Bay Hotel we can see today. A monastery originally stood on this site and the oldest surviving buildings are the two remaining tithe barns from the old Priory Farm dating back to 1100. But I learn something even more impressive about the Priory Beach on which I had stood amongst the sea-washed pebbles and seaweed earlier. It seems this has been a popular spot for many years or only at least a mere 345,000 years to be exact as stone age axes from this era have been discovered on that very beach. Which means one of the earliest settlements in Britain. And that's old! <br />As this is my third visit to this elegant dining room I'm starting to work my way through the menu so I am also kindly offered the Oyster Bar and Grill menu in case I wish to mix it up a bit. The risottos and the fresh tagliatelli are appealing but I'm really hankering for the scallops and after being so très désolé regarding the proliferation of the dreaded tomatoes on their menu so far, I wonder if they could serve them another way. My waitress originally suggested salad which didn't thrill me so much but then with the chef's acquiescence we came up with cunning idea of a small mound of the rather delicious Cauliflower Risotto from my Bream dish on Monday. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4914.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4914.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='230' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Tonights amuse bouche is a little meaty morsel of Croute topped with Duck Rillettes and Cranberry, it's less quirky than the last two nights, but perhaps tastier. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4915.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4915.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='256' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />After the earlier machinations my starter ended up being Roast Native Scallops with Cauliflower Risotto, and this was a wonderful marriage. The cauliflower risotto was more delicious than Monday, it was creamier, more unctuous and complemented the burnished scallops beautifully and to complete the pretty-as-a-picture dish was a light scattering of the ubiquitous micro cress. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4916.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4916.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='179' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My waitress thinks I should check out their beef dish so my main tonight is the Fillet of Island Beef - Parisienne Potatoes, Pancetta, Carrots, Mushrooms, Onions, Red Wine Jus. I'm really trying not to compare the Priory Bay's beef dish with Robert Thompson's but I can stop myself, it was only three nights ago and the ringing endorsement I gave it are still very much on my mind and I daresay my taste buds. To be honest this isn't just quite as fabulous, the pancetta is there for the welcome porky hit but the Boxing Day Parma Ham rosette and the accompanying beef had the edge. The best bits are the Chantenay carrots which are perky and sweet, adorable caramelised nuggets of teeny, tiny Parisienne Potatoes, a pool of winey jus contained in the rather wonderful swirl of the deep, rich onion puree. But sadly after the stupendous starter it just doesn't quite match up.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4917.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4917.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />After everyone queuing up for the Orchard Plum and Cognac Soufflé - Plum Compote, Star Anise Ice Cream last night I thought I better join the throng. I don't always see the point of soufflés as they can verge on style over content, they can be all air or too custardy in the base. It considered the classic "don't cook to impress" or "attempt on television" dish as a flop is often lurking round the corner. I've never made soufflé intended for dessert, I've only whipped up cheese, potato and other savoury goodies. I liked the soufflé, it stayed pert until i broke through its defences and doused it in the ice cream. It had a delicate plum taste and the star (excuse the pun!) was the lightly spicy star anise ice cream. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/4919.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/09/s_4919.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='273' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />And I thought it was all over but I was offered the petits fours for the first time. Even if I couldn't possibly eat another thing it's always fascinating to see a tantalizing glimpse into the chef's mind in the final flings of a feast. It's their opportunity of leaving you with those lasting memories of their culinary artistry with sweet manifestations of delicious witticisms. Tonight we get to enjoy a Pistachio Macaroon and a square of Kirsch Cherry and Pistachio Nougat. The nougat is sticky and spiked with (always to my mind) redolent of cheese fondue Kirsch. I've saved the best until last. The macaroon performs just as it should, the tiniest nibble breaks the crisp curved outer layers and a light pistachio cloud envelopes my mouth, surely the taste of happiness. Today has undeniably been cloudy but ending with macaroon induced sugar alchemy will always be a good thing!<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-688821191181556512010-12-28T22:02:00.000+00:002011-01-06T18:07:53.663+00:00Too many tomatoes in the world!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/1941.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/s_1941.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='181' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Tonight there's a new special starter of duck liver parfait (ah that rings a bell, I had really enjoyed its smooth creaminess earlier) but inexplicably it comes with yet another tomato concoction since my first taste of it so now it seems three out of the five starters have tomato in them. The fourth has blue cheese so I guess it's Hobson's choice of Cured Organic Salmon Plate - Braised Fennel, Lemon, Parsley and Caperberry Purée. I really enjoyed my Galantine of Local Game Birds once it had been de-tomatoed so perhaps the scallops can be rescued from their tomato drowning tomorrow, it's worth asking.<br />The amuse bouche is another quirky dish of Carrot and Ginger jelly with Ginger crumbs and watercress. When presented it did look scarily like a half of tomato but clearly my obsession is affecting me now and I'm seeing things. It could also be compared to an egg yolk deprived of its white. It's firmer than a jelly, and it slices into pleasing golden crescents which work well with the Ginger crunch.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/1943.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/s_1943.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='177' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The Cured Organic Salmon Plate - Braised Fennel, Lemon, Parsley and Caperberry Purée wouldn't necessarily be a dish I'd normally choose off the menu. I'm not entirely sure why, I love salmon but its treatment in this case sounds a tad austere. I suspect the thought of the strong tang of the caperberries makes my mouth pucker slightly in my mind. The salmon was really good though, a small slab of translucent moist flakes revealed in every mouthful. They was nicer than I thought but the accompaniments were still a little too feisty for my sadly delicate tastes. But it's good to try something new so I far from regret it.<br />I can only assume this aversion to bitter, tart or spicy is due to eating rather mild food as a child. At home we'd have something as exotic as even garlic very, very occasionally so my abiding memories of family dinners consist of simple comfort food, cauliflower cheese, fish pie, cottage pie, roast beef with boiled potatoes, sprouts and unusual yet very distinctive untainted-by-meat gravy, boil-in-the-bag cod in butter sauce, Findus crispy pancakes (just wrong but enjoyed at the time I guess!) meat and potato pie (from the chippy), mash potatoes (made from Smash invariably - oh the shame!), bacon butties in white floury 'oven-bottoms', in fact white bread doorstops thickly buttered featured heavily also. Because of regular trips to Paris and my parents many French friends and associates, I think we occasionally dabbled in more French bistro food than my peers, home-made quiche Lorraine with cheese pastry, French onion soup, pâtés, omelettes, soft cheese possibly Boursin, chocolate mousse, thin crêpes and those very fine-crusted apple tarts. We also had a metal rotary cheese grater from Paris, several fondue sets and all the necessary accouterments for consuming snails! This was considered very daring and the mere thought of such decadence to my grandparents would be greeted by a screwed up face and a loud declaration of "foreign muck!" But then they seemed to believe that good clean food came from a can, a mere whiff of tinned boiled potatoes, those flaccid slightly slimy tinny ovoids will instantly transport me back to regimented meals of Goblin steak & kidney pudding (if you ever get the chance, just say "no!"), butterscotch Angel Delight, tinned carrots, being forced to "just have five" tinned grey pea bullets and slices of flabby ham edged with a nasty jelly (you've guessed it from a can). I never had a very happy relationship with milk, when I drank it at home it had to be really cold and not a trace of cream. M would carefully pour off the top layer from the silver topped bottle and squirrel it away for her next coffee. If someone shook the bottle to mix up the cream and the milk, then that bottle wasn't for me. Gold top was always too creamy full stop! Hmmm do I sound rather fussy? School milk was so repellent I struggled daily to get the merest sip down. But my grandparents went one ghastly step further and only had sterilized long-life milk; Which pushed me well over the edge to total milk avoidance. Their attempts to initiate me in the fine art of drinking tea hit a large UHT brick wall. It was until decades later I discovered that black very weak Earl Grey is also tea, so I can join in this tradition now. <br />Apparently my grandmother used to be a decent cook in her time but by the time she had to feed a reluctant granddaughter for those long summer holidays she had hung up her apron and it had become all about convenience and the dullest grey most undemanding foods. It wasn't until adulthood that I dared to even try a pea again (and still never tinned) and an offer of mushy peas would probably make me run a mile! <br />Her one saving grace in the culinary arts was a fresh very nutmeg-y and voluptuously wobbly custard tart (maybe you couldn't get those in a can!) and also (possibly out of desperation) she permitted me to have a possibly unnatural amount of strawberry jam sandwiches. She bought only the thinnest of sliced bread which the jam would pleasingly seep through, stain and generally make me very sticky fingered! Some fond food memories but definitely not good preparation for forming an adventurous palate in later life!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/1944.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/s_1944.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='195' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My main dish was today's special - Rump of Lamb with Pistachio Cream, Prune Jam, Crusted Potatoes. The lamb was tasty but tricky to cut as a rump can be, perhaps I should have requested a steak knife and saved my fingers battling to produce bite-sized morsels. There was a pleasing subtle crunch to the prune jam which I later discovered was due to the inclusion of figs which made perfect sense when explained as the texture couldn't have been mere prune. The dish had a great flavour and I rather relished the slightly quirky pistachio cream and prune/fig concoction but I do wish I hadn't had to go five rounds with the lamb before it relinquished any meat. Maybe that serves me right for remarking on the bream dish being "almost too easy to eat" yesterday, today I'm exhausted!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/1945.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/06/s_1945.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='212' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />After missing out last night I was determined not to be thwarted tonight and I secured an Assiette of Priory Orchard Apple - Apple Tatin, Apple and Blackberry Crumble, Blackberry Sorbet. Though typically tonight it's all about the Orchard Plum and Cognac Soufflé which every other table seems to be eagerly awaiting to emerge from the kitchen. I hear 'sotto voce' repeated apologies and explanations for the delay due to some recalcitrant oven whilst I tuck into my dessert which hasn't sufferered a similar fate. The Tatin tastes as they normally do, with the pastry being a little soaked by apple juice and caramel for the pastry to add the pleasing crunchy texture to the dish I had on Christmas Eve. But then normally the pastry doesn't protrude beyond the apple-y mosaic so of course it will serve as a sponge for all the fruity oozings, which I'm guessing the Tatin sisters had in mind after all. Maybe my recent tatin was an impostor! Tyler has anticipated my craving for crunch and there's a tasty autumnal treat of a darkly berried crumble with an abundance of biscuity topping. There's also a damn fine punchy blackberry sorbet which it's delectably smooth. this is one of the stars of to tonight's meal, the others being the Pistachio Cream and the Prune Jam. Maybe I'm having a purple and green moment!<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-29306321737113158342010-12-28T14:57:00.000+00:002011-01-05T20:58:17.911+00:00Ghost story<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/05/2279.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/05/s_2279.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='187' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/05/2280.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/05/s_2280.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='187' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Today has been mostly drizzly, what a perfect excuse to lounge in the drawing room, writing, reading and relaxing. There are plenty of options for reclining, comfy squashy sofas, elegant high backed chairs and even a piano stool if so inclined. The fireplace has the extraordinary feature of an eight-sided window cut through the enormously thick wall above it. The chimney is thus split to run either side of the window though sadly this makes it somewhat impractical as a fully-functioning fire thus rendering it more a decorative feature than a warming one. But it is undeniably very striking and the Priory Bay is so toasty warm I wished I'd packed something more spring-like so not be able to light it works for me. As well as heat this country house has a lot if something else, Christmas trees. There is a veritable forest of conifers all decked out in their festive finery, different toning colours for each room. And there are very few pine needles about, either they have obliging trees or else the Christmas tree elves are busy hoovering them away. <br />I've also learnt to my delight that there's supposed to be a ghost here, the legend goes that a young teenage girl used to run around lamenting of her lost dog. A life-size portrait of her used to hang in the Priory and she was depicted in a blue dress with her favorite King Charles' spaniel at her feet. A dog, possibly hers, had been stuffed and used to reside by the stairs. When many years later new owners (the ones that introduced the eight-sided windows) cleared out some of the old items they didn't require the hauntings began. The newly installed staff were resigning in their droves and on enquiry claimed their desertion was due to the baleful cries of the desperate blue dressed girl bemoaning her missing dog having so very much disturbed them. The new owner keen to not let any more of her faithful retainers slip through her fingers resolved to get to the bottom of the matter and thought the dog might be the key. When the astute American woman managed after placing notice in the paper to eventually track down the moth-eaten dog in an antique shop, the restoration brought peace once more to the Priory. I'm sure her portrait is long gone but there's a black and white photo of the girl and faithful dog in the drawing room. I can't vouch for any evidence of the ghost however!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/05/2281.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/11/01/05/s_2281.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='239' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I didn't feel like lunch after the excess of recent days but fancied a glass of mulled wine and a little savoury something in the afternoon, I didn't really want afternoon tea so had some Duck Liver Parfait with Toasted Walnut Bread and Soused Sultanas instead. The parfait was smooth, rich and velvety and just what the doctor ordered, the walnut bread toast sadly was a tad too dry and just kind of shattered on contact with the knife. I'd had walnut bread at dinner last night and found it verging on hard also, I think I'm missing the straight-from-the-oven bread I've been enjoying recently. But actually, considering my next meal is looming on the horizon (story of my life on this trip, but hey next year can all be about lettuce!), just having the parfait and salad is a wise idea!<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-70759445371960123532010-12-27T22:39:00.000+00:002010-12-30T20:23:03.940+00:00A view of the sea from Seaview<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1918.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1918.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='257' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My room is up several flights of stairs and I'm very grateful I have help lugging all my luggage up there. There's extra because I couldn't bear to part with some of the more portable items from last night's Hambrough hamper, plus the wine and Champagne I didn't drink which certainly add to the weight. <br />My room is huge, it has a corridor and a kind of ante-room, sitting room or possibly even dressing room. There's a balcony to admire the view from and the most enormous king size bed. My only niggle is that I wish it looked more like the rest of the house or the pictures I've seen of the other bedrooms on their website. Don't get me wrong it's a lovely, generous, spotlessly clean room but it's reminiscent of what a retired naval captain may spend his twilight years in. There's a crow's nest like balcony with a brass telescope to keep an eye out of the ships at sea (I suspect ferries really!), the walls are a pale (Tiffany?) blue tongue and groove with the odd exposed beam like a mast protruding through all the wood. There are old (treasure?) chests dotted around riveted in brass and the nautical bathroom has a few starfish decorations and shell pictures. A part of me would have like a little more of classic Regency charm I saw in the lounges and drawing room. Perhaps dark wood paneling and a rich red upholstery, or even something chintz (and I thought I'd never say that) but I'm just being greedy maybe such fripperies require an upgrade! So this seafaring haven will be my home from home for the next four nights and I'm very happy to be here. The Priory Bay hotel certainly has a lot to explore; I know, hidden from even my vantage point, is their private beach and I'm hoping for some fine photographic opportunities, weather be kind to me please!<br />I'm not sure if I descended the same way I arrived, there seem to be pale mustard clad carpeted flights of stairs everywhere but it gave me a chance to explore more of the building before finding where I was going to eat. The dining room is very country house, with extravagantly swagged silk curtains framing the impressive bay window overlooking the terrace, grounds and the sea beyond (if the evening permitted such a view). The three remaining walls are entirely covered with murals of what I can only assume are local scenes of Seaview. There's an intriguing map of the Isle of Wight painted above the grand fireplace, it's either an artistic impression of the island's shape or the Isle of Wight has changed drastically since it was recorded on these walls. Coincidentally a couple of months ago (whilst queuing patiently to get into Karl Lagerfield's quite peculiar photographic exhibit in Paris) I was listening to an old radio broadcast of Dave Gorman's Genius where prospective genii pose inventions, stratagems and crackpot schemes in the vain hope of being recognized as the true genius they believe they are. One such deluded believer had postulated the random scheme of making the Isle of Wight even more symmetrical than it is! To further encourage tourism if I recall. His barmy plot involved erasing Ventnor entirely and possibly attaching it somewhere else on the coast, maybe nearer Yarmouth. The idea was rejected (particularly by the head if the Isle of Wight tourist board who apparently lives in, you've guessed it, Ventnor!) At the time I would had been hard pushed to draw the outline of the island, I'd never considered the geography of this part of our country, but I was informed by the show that it was a flat diamond shape - almost, and clearly not quite enough for the failed genius! Since then finding myself planning a trip here I've done more research and can indeed vouch for the shape and vague layout of the island. For those as unfamiliar as I was I've included a handy map on my first post on December 24th. Ventnor is the 'bump' beneath Shanklin. It's not shown on this particular map as the island's considerable rail network has been decimated over the years and the now one remaining train line takes you in vintage London Underground tube trains from Ryde to Shanklin only. There is a bit of a steam railway but it's for pleasure rather than transportation purposes. <br />I've heard good things about the new chef here - Tyler Torrance, let's hope his food lives up to the surroundings. On first glance at the menu my horrified eye fell on the word "tomato", twice in the first four dishes. I mean, it's December, very nearly January, they refer to them as "late harvest" on the menu but despite the Isle of Wight's microclimate I have to ask what sort of freakish tomatoes are they cultivating here? Tomatoes should be long dead, they have no business hanging around like gatecrashers to the winter menus. Clearly I'll have to keep my tomato radar honed in case one sneaks up in me, Tyler clearly is a fan of them! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1919.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1919.jpg' border='0' width='240' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I have the tomato confit excluded from my starter and make my choices. A small very thin wooden cone is brought as an amuse bouche containing I'm informed Cahoon chicken with Gremolata. The chicken is encased in a delicate slightly spicy batter, like a popcorn chicken. It's an intriguing start and I'm looking forward to what's next. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1920.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1920.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='221' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />And what's next is the Gallantine of Local Game Birds - Priory Garden Leeks, (Confit Tomatoes), Sauce Soubise. The Gallantine (a cold version of its warmer cousin Ballantine) consists of tasty morsels of Partridge, wood pigeon and grouse bound with a little chicken. Wonderfully devoid of tomatoes but the strong leek taste of tenderly nurtured (very) local vegetable. The sauce Soubise is a lovely subtle onion sauce accompaniment. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1921.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1921.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='257' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My main tonight is the Fillet of Bream - Cauliflower Risotto, Priory Garden Chard, Clam and Saffron Velouté. I think I'd struggle to really discern the saffron but that is fine as I occasionally find the more-expensive-than-gold crocus spice too metallic, dry and grassy on my undeveloped Indian food taste buds. A mound of clams, the tasty little nuggets of the sea, can be rather challenging in numbers but undeniably they add an attractive decoration to a dish. The sea bream was delicate and cooked to perfection and atop of the soft chard and unctuous risotto was a very posh nursery tea. Such as that it was almost too easy to eat, you barely need to chew and after what seems like a moment you glance down at your scraped clean plate and lament "all gone!" Note to self - eat slower!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1922.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1922.jpg' border='0' width='272' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My waiter recommends the Assiette of Priory Orchard Apple - Apple Tatin, Apple and Blackberry Crumble, Blackberry Sorbet for dessert but that will have to be for tomorrow night as they've all been snapped up by the other eager diners.<br />Having to have the Chocolate Praline Finger - Swiss Meringue, Chocolate Mousse, Rich Chocolate Ganache instead is far from a hardship however. It may defy all attempts for me to photograph it beautifully, the black hole properties of all that chocolate coupled with the ever decreasing ambient lighting, but it tastes delicious, light yet richly chocolaty.<br />So definitely so far so good I bid farewell to the attentive restaurant manager feeling pleasantly full, at least I can work a little off climbing those stairs!<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-16333809203486567752010-12-27T10:52:00.000+00:002011-12-24T05:07:16.058+00:00The last hurrah!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFZAuJvo-tH7l0AvG0914wMyrLqYSiG3aFtk4dnthi-Gd5Qvnl_ldzD8yXhHAT-Gn7ZV-orL3A3odeMTKq3ljPCn89ZJfOxa7h22kHL60tlyWZspUn3HOw1BHUBcHBk5WhT7b/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252026%25252C%2525202010%25252010%25253A04%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFZAuJvo-tH7l0AvG0914wMyrLqYSiG3aFtk4dnthi-Gd5Qvnl_ldzD8yXhHAT-Gn7ZV-orL3A3odeMTKq3ljPCn89ZJfOxa7h22kHL60tlyWZspUn3HOw1BHUBcHBk5WhT7b/s500/Photo%252520Dec%25252026%25252C%2525202010%25252010%25253A04%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1324702602086.2976" class="clearleft" alt="" width="500" height="306"></a></div><p>There's a large part of me that doesn't want to pack up all my sparkly stuff and head forth to my next destination. My second hotel over in Seaview sounds very nice but I've been so happy here and sad to leave these foodie delights behind and what if the food isn't as good at my next hotel. But the Hambrough has a cunning plan. To ensure Michelin star-struck guests don't linger after their gourmet Christmas they see us off, take down all the glittery stars, pack away the sparkly chocolate and turquoise baubles and close the hotel until the end of January. I have been known to go for 'just one more meal' to prolong the eventual departure from a place I've really enjoyed. I can't stay for lunch (as there will be no-one to cook for me) but I can avail myself of one of their very fine cooked breakfasts (adding the ’no tomato shall darken my plate’ caveat). And it is a perfect send-off, succulent sausages and moist black pudding (this is often little crispy nuggets) and a perfect runny egg. The chef patron Robert Thompson helps me with my luggage down the stairs and I can take the opportunity to heap my praises on his alchemy in the kitchen. I have really enjoyed my Christmas here, the food, the room and entire experience. This a diamond fork place, my three fork plus accolade. Just one last look and a promise that I’ll be back, hopefully next year.<br />
</p>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-57465224378390163562010-12-26T18:09:00.000+00:002010-12-29T09:15:57.278+00:00Second helpings!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/189.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_189.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='198' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />As I returned to my hotel (Robert Thompson at the Hambrough) shaking the sand off my boots after the now customary appetite-inducing tramp along the beach and around the little winding streets of Ventnor (also witnessing the Charity Boxing Day Swim - though frankly it's less of a swim more of an endurance test for who can survive in the freezing waves) I am assailed by the intoxicating perfume of truffles. Not chocolate truffles (which have a heady cocoa aroma of their own) but those elusive diamonds of the fungi world. I was convinced I couldn't eat the tiniest bit of food despite my exertions this morning but that exotic aroma gets me going every time - thankfully!<br />On returning to the sea green dining room for what would be the last time (sob) now less windswept from my walk I can hear the excited murmurs from my neighbouring diners over the big decision of choosing the menu options. <br /><br />Amongst today's difficult choices are: <br /><br />Champagne and Canapés<br />----------<br />Ravioli of Lobster, Scallop and Salmon with a Crab and Lemongrass Bisque<br />Or<br />Parfait of Rougie Foie Gras with Comice Pear and Aged Port<br />Or<br />Lovage Linguini with Pink Oyster Mushrooms, Braised Celery and Shaved Walnuts<br />----------<br />Velouté of Parsnip with a Hazelnut Cappuccino and Bitter Cocoa<br />----------<br />Roast Fillet of Scotch Beef with Artichoke, Potato and Truffle Madeira Jus<br />Or<br />Pan Roasted Halibut with a Fricassee of Sprouts and Chestnuts<br />Chestnut Pasta<br />Or<br />Glazed Tart of Leeks with Truffle and Poached Quails Eggs<br />----------<br />Dark Chocolate and Griottine Fondant Pistachio Ice Cream<br />Or<br />Glazed Rum Baba with Citrus Fruits Vanilla Ice Cream<br />Or<br />A Selection of Fine Cheeses<br />----------<br />Coffee, Mince Pies and Petit Fours<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/190.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_190.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='200' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />It's a tough job but someone got to do it so I make my selection and sip another glass of Champagne. I've sussed out the canapés now so eat them in order of preference: the squishy, finger-licking truffle and goats' cheese sandwich first, the smoked salmon, soured cream and caviar blini next and then the unctuous slow-cooked veal shin cigarette in paprika mayonnaise. The feasting has begun again!<br />The yummy Cheddar gougères and delectable hot-from-the-oven focaccia (other breads are available!) appear as if by magic next. Maybe I should check that they're as good as the last two days - oh yes they are!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/191.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_191.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='198' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My starter choice is a nod to the influence of the salty sea outside the windows and I opt for the Ravioli of Lobster, Scallop and Salmon with a Crab and Lemongrass Bisque. The wafts of the heady scent of lobster and crab heralds the arrival of the dish. And it tastes as fabulous as it smells, a plump silky cushion containing juicy morsels of the lobster, scallop and salmon nestled in a circle of iron-y crunchy kale, napped with the delicate foam and a swirl of the intense moreish bisque. Again I hanker for more of that luscious liquid, it may have not looked as pretty on the plate in the quantities I would have happily polished off but it tasted way too toothsome not to crave more.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/192.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_192.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='177' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The soup of the day is Velouté of Parsnip with a Hazelnut Cappuccino and Bitter Cocoa. This may all sound too sweet but this parsnip is a distant cousin to the golden roasted parsnip we enjoyed on Christmas Eve, this is slightly more reminiscent of celeriac with a purer more ethereal taste. The potent chocolatey nutty foam bathes it all in a delectable blanket just to ensure it doesn't taste too virtuous! <br />I fear I may run out of superlatives before the main event and I'm pretty sure this will be an absolute stunner. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/193.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_193.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='170' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />This time the intoxicating aroma is my own plate of Roast Fillet of Scotch Beef with Artichoke, Potato and Truffle Madeira Jus wafting towards me. And it is indeed a thing of beauty. But enough of the admiration, I pick up my steak knife and plunge in. Firstly it's that sublime bisected rosy fillet of melt-in-the-mouth beef, just perfection! And for me the ideal marriage is the crunch of the Parma ham rose which is baked or sautéed to intensify the baconiness. This instantly transported me back to ghosts of Christmas past. The original D could never tolerate poultry and turkey was a definite no-no. Beef was his meat of choice and when I first decided to jazz it up a bit inspired by a treatment I'd seen Jamie Oliver do I slathered some truffled parfait onto a fat fillet of beef and then wrapped the lot in a dozen overlapping slices of Parma ham before roasting rare. This made the Christmas joint sensational and M's inevitable pickings the next day an extra treat (she never really liked her meat hot). And this duly became the family favourite. <br />But coming back to the present we never accompanied our beef with the soft yielding caramelized artichoke that unfurled each petal or leaf on the gentle probing with my fork. The truffled Madeira jus is sensational, but anything that smells that good has to be. Maybe a mound of the butteriest mash potatoes would have been gilding the lily, but I just love mash so secretly wish there was some. But if Robert has added this extra indulgence I probably wouldn't be able to do his dessert justice, and that would be utterly criminal!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/194.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_194.jpg' border='0' width='158' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The pre-dessert of a little clementine posset With vanilla foam replaced my licked clean main plate (well I would if I could!). The posset's foam cap was not the usual pert piped crown tonight but seemed to have have slipped and neutralized the Space Dust lurking below somewhat. The clementine was however still a refreshingly tangy palate cleanser. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/195.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_195.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='269' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />And finally, they had me at "chocolate" and again at "fondant" so my dessert of choice just had to be Dark Chocolate and Griottine Fondant Pistachio Ice Cream. An unusually discrete Versace dessert plate displays the dark chocolate and vibrant green creation. <br />My surprise as to the uncharacteristic subtlety exercised by Versace is probably based on my 2008 Christmas present from M - a place setting of the Versace Dedalo range which believe it or not was one of the tamer designs!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/196.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/29/s_196.jpg' border='0' width='275' height='275' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The alchemy between deep, rich chocolate and the verging on unnatural green pistachio has been well documented and here was no exception but this has an extra dimension or two, the oozing fondant, the hit of Griottines (Morello cherries in Kirsch), the delicate crunch of the filigree wafer, the ice cream melting with the chocolate and the texture of the crushed pistachios. In the last two meals despite two very fine illustrations of the patisserie's art I was defeated by the crisp pastry of the Tart Tatin of Apple and the light Clementine Steamed Sponge, but had no such problems today. Another scraped clean plate, scrumptious!<br />There's still tonight's hamper but the final festive feast at the hands of Robert Thompson at the Hambrough is over. I came to Ventnor, to the Isle of Wight for this gourmet mission, meeting fellow epicurean pilgrims on the way, being lavished with exemplary food and wonderfully attentive but not overbearing service, languished in this beautiful, elegant hotel - what more could foodie diva desire? A very, very merry Christmas to me! <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-72743814185665620422010-12-25T23:33:00.000+00:002010-12-30T20:24:15.776+00:00Christmas Pudding!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1932.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1932.jpg' border='0' width='276' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />To give the staff some semblance of Christmas celebration the kitchen is closed tonight. Previously they had set up a sumptuous buffet in the dining room but the guests were presumably still too stuffed from Christmas lunch to descend and avail themselves of the goodies. This year they decided instead to offer hampers that can be enjoyed at leisure in the comfort of our rooms. I couldn't see myself being famished any time soon but long time readers of my blog will know that the magic word "hamper" holds particular allure. I'm not sure if it's the Lilliputian size of the items or the surprise factor as each element reveals itself but I've loved a hamper ever since my first tiny one where I'd carefully pack away my doll's tea set after playing with it. And even now when the fat catalogues from Fortnum & Mason, Harvey Nichols, Harrod's and Selfridges plop onto the mat each year I never tire of poring over my "hamper porn". Though I have noticed a distinct change, when I blogged extensively about the latest hampers in November 2008, I mentioned the extraordinary decadence of F&M's Snow Queen (which actually was a plethora of pale wicker hampers) which was retailing for a mind-numbing £25,000 (no, that's not a typo!) and now the top of the range is the Imperial at a still crazy but considerably cheaper £5,000 but all the extravagant satin, cashmere and silver doodads have been removed! But as wonderful as these hampers are you don't generally have a complete meal. Many may contain chutneys, Gentlemen's Relish, exotic teas, jams, preserves, shortbread, water biscuits, nuts, Christmas pudding and cake, chocolates and other items to fill the store cupboard with. The more elaborate box that doesn't have to travel as far may contain a side of smoked salmon or indulgently a cooked ham. I suspect this one, however, will have the emphasis on fresh and eat tonight and not provide accoutrements for the rest of the seasonal eating.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1933.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1933.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='187' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My reverie is disturbed my a knock on the door and my hamper arrives borne by two of the staff accompanied by half a dozen plates and sets of cutlery. I wonder at first if they suspect I'm having a party and then realized that it would make the bedroom picnic much more elegant not having to mix the savoury with the sweet. <br />Well unsurprisingly each time I delve into my festive hamper another delicious treat emerges. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1934.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1934.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='160' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />From the top: <br />Roasted Macadamia Nuts<br />Mixed Olives<br />Parma Ham on Walnut Bread<br />Marinated Isle of Wight Oyster Mushrooms<br />Soft Boiled Quails Eggs with Sherry Vinegar and Thyme<br />Tartare of Aberdeen Angus<br />Mosaic of Game<br />Smoked Salmon and Cucumber<br />Cheese Selection - Comte, Camembert with Calvados, Bleu de Gex Biscuits, Celery and Grapes<br />Lemon Tart<br />Shortbreads - Vanilla, Orange and Strawberry<br />Mince Pies<br />Vodka Fruit Punch - Tropical Juice, Apple Juice, Lime Juice and Dash of Angostura Bitters<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1935.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1935.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='179' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Where do I start? I'm really not hungry but there are particular delights in here I must at least sample. So instead of a leftover turkey sandwich with stuffing or a few slices of remaining glazed ham others may have tonight I have these morsels of deliciousness to pick at all evening. There's a little stainless steel flask keeping the Vodka Fruit Punch cold so I pour a glass and decide what to taste first. I adore steak tartare but even if I'd eaten nothing else all day I struggle to eat too much of it. This is a dinky portion, meaty, piquant and really excellent. Next a few spoons of the mini pot of pressed smoked salmon and cucumber, which was another winner. I'd predicted they'd be something in the realm of the Mosaic of Game, a gentle forking breaks the slice seductively into soupçons of meaty chunks on contact. A couple of the soft boiled quail eggs with the mild vinegary punch go down well as I ponder what poor soul had to peel all those quail eggs and so many I'm going to invariably waste. A sliver of cheese, a few shreds of the Parma ham, a mushroom or two and a bite of a stunning lemon tart. I'm mortified by so much wanton waste, saving it for tomorrow would be pretty pointless as I have another big lunch to accommodate, and apart from the shortbread and nuts not much will keep for travelling onwards on Monday. In retrospect I should have thrown a party, I had enough crockery! <br />Despite the barely depleted plates every forkful I had was sheer pleasure, the steak tartare, mosaic of game and the lemon tart being real masterpieces. Now truly and utterly stuffed! <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-18648254385138113482010-12-25T17:19:00.000+00:002010-12-26T20:35:47.169+00:00Christmas with ALL the trimmings<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2211.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2211.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='181' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />There is an expectant buzz in the dining room. It's that low rumble of contented diners dressed in their festive finery patting their stomachs. I've opted for a slightly later Christmas lunch than most and have been striding up and down the beach and the seafront to give myself a fighting chance to have some room after last night's extravaganza. Thus I'm arriving as the others are reaching their finale and comparing notes on their delicious turbot, sharing reminiscences of Space Dust, discussing whether a pot of peppermint tea would aid them consuming a few more morsels of the steamed clementine sponge and rather curiously pondering the likelihood of a tsunami hitting us before the end of the meal. But then another diner nodded sagely and said "at least we'd die happy!" <br />Today I'm in the coffee, cappuccino coloured dining room, the blinds look like rich chocolate flakes (only the crumbliest, tastiest chocolate), which is never a bad thing! <br />We have a lovely view of the salmon streaked sky over the steely sea. I suspect tidal waves are incredibly unlikely and if the worse should happen we are quite high up above the crashing waves. Hopefully the surprisingly sunny weather stays the same for tomorrow, brisk healthful walks on the beach would not be so much fun if the heavens open despite the large golfing umbrella in my room. <br /><br />Todays menu is as follows:<br /><br />Champagne and Canapés<br /><br />Mosaic of Game and Foie Gras with Quince Chutney<br />Seared Scottish Scallops with Cauliflower and Autumn Truffle<br />Carpaccio of Beetroot with a Horseradish Panna Cotta<br /><br />Veloute of Pumpkin with Roasted Chestnut<br /><br />Roast Goose Traditionally Garnished<br />Pan Roasted Turbot with a Lasagne of Langoustine<br />and Gem Lettuce<br />Gateaux of Potato, Artichoke and Wild Mushroom<br />Jerusalem Artichoke Cream<br /><br />Steamed Clementine Sponge Stem Ginger Ice Cream<br />Agen Prune and Armagnac Parfait<br />A Selection of Fine Cheeses<br /><br />Coffee, Mince Pies and Petit Fours<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2212.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2212.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='167' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2200.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2200.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='221' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />I started in a similar way, this time my linen waterlily contained Cheddar gougères laced with whiskey and my herby focaccia was as good as yesterday leaving those minute traces of sea salt on the lips. <br />To accompany the Champagne are three mini canapés, a smoked salmon blini with soured cream and a soupçon of caviar, a Perigold truffle with goats' cheese wafer and slow cooked veal shin 'cigarette' with paprika mayonnaise. They were all very fine but the veal shin was the real star, both the words "goats' cheese" and "mayonnaise" scare me generally but the goats' cheese wasn't goaty and reminiscent of ammonia and homemade mayonnaise is an entirely different beast compared to the synthetic Hellman's I so abhor. In fact I have been known on rare occasions to whip up my own mayonnaise, with the help of my Bamix naturally, and generally spike it heavily with herbs and/or garlic but I still prefer hollandaise every time.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2201.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2201.jpg' border='0' width='273' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I ummed and aahed between the Mosaic of Game and Foie Gras with Quince Chutney and the Seared Scottish Scallops with Cauliflower and Autumn Truffle. I even consulted tomorrow's menu which also has a foie gras and a scallop based starter. But in the end my proximity to the sea won as I always crave seafood when on the coast so the scallops had it. Chatting to some fellow foodie pilgrims, who have the edge on me because they've experienced Robert Thompson's talents before, when he won acclaim at Winteringham Fields, and then followed him here, they could very much vouch for mosaic of game and foie gras. I'd rationalized that my hamper tonight (yes, more delicious food to squeeze in!) may have some sort of parfait, pâté concoction and almost definitely no scallops. <br />The Seared Scottish Scallops with Cauliflower and Autumn Truffle were a good call. The plump scallops were caramel singed at sat atop some pale cous cous. I've never really understood the point of cous cous, naming it twice doesn't make it more interesting to me. This however was more like a minuscule mound of Parmesan shavings and was a cosy nest for the expertly cooked scallops, the cauliflower purée was another masterpiece and I would have happily had much more of it to douse the slivers of scallop in.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2202.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2202.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='181' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The soup today is a wonderful Velouté of Pumpkin with Roasted Chestnut, a rich autumnal elixir topped with chestnut foam and meaty morsels of roast chestnut. As much as I adored the truffled brioche yesterday I was pleased I didn't have to accommodate more bread today, however tasty. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2204.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2204.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='197' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I'd opted for the Roast Goose Traditionally Garnished, a part of me hankered for a little tradition (though definitely not turkey!). However goose is a fine bird and the only time I've tackled the preparation myself for the festive feast involved the loan of a neighbour's oven (one they'd never even used!), rivers of both goosefat and blood, eventual happy guests but neighbours who never spoke to me again! The goose and all the little goodies of accompaniments were utterly faultless but perhaps lacking the culinary fireworks of yesterday's venison. However each individual part was cooked to perfection, elegantly turned roasties dusted in polenta, al dente sprouts, bacon enveloped chipolata, ball of stuffing, the smooth carrot purée with the crowning glory of the delicately pink juicy goose slices drenched in a delicious winy gravy. <br />Today's pre-dessert was a spiced apple posset with vanilla foam. The Space Dust wasn't a surprise this time but still very welcome, and the spiced apple was rich and delicious. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2205.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2205.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='181' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I'm slightly concerned whether I can accommodate the Steamed Clementine Sponge Stem Ginger Ice Cream without literally popping (wafer thin mint anyone?) Just the words "steam pudding" sound alarming but I shouldn't have feared because of course Robert's sponge is sun-bronzed, light and festively fruity with the welcome juxtaposition of the slight exotic heat of the ginger ice cream sat on a bed of gingerbread crumbs and of course it is a visual stunner also. I've spotted that they have a impressive collection of dessert plates, todays being modeled on a gold ostrich, surely there's not more people out there as obsessive about crockery as me! <br />For a treat for the hardworking and fabulously friendly staff tonight the kitchen is closing early so hampers are on offer for guests who may succumb to the munchies later. As if I'm ever going to eat again... ever! But isn't it traditional that you feel utterly stuffed like the proverbial turkey on Christmas Day? I'm just being traditional! Gold, frankincense and myrrh anyone? <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br /><br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-89456827116341934732010-12-25T11:00:00.000+00:002010-12-26T21:09:54.632+00:00Have I been naughty or nice?<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2262.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2262.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='155' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />On awaking on Christmas morning in my fabulous room in the enviable position of overlooking the chilly sea I was fortunate to catch the remnants of the sunrise and could set up my tripod and fire off a few shots without having to brave the frosty elements.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/2263.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_2263.jpg' border='0' width='236' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Despite not leaving out any mince pies nor a tot of whiskey, I had been visited (by a red besuited and bearded man perhaps?), and hanging from my door handle was a bulging red velvet stocking filled with all sorts of surprise goodies: chocolates, dried fruit and nuts, Christmas pudding, festive fragrant herb bag, candy cane and the obligatory satsuma. I've even got some Robert Thompson recipes to try at home. Merry Christmas to me! Not having ever stayed in a hotel at Christmas I don't know if this de rigeur but I thought it was such fabulous touch especially after believing that this particular solo Christmas would be surprise free! I suspect that it's just another reason why this is a special place to stay - thank you Alistair Sawday for the recommendation. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1375.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1375.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='231' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Christmas breakfast were some delicate soft folds of creamy scrambled eggs topped with rosy slices of smoked salmon. I had considered washing it down with Champagne but decided to save that for lunch.<br />Talking of lunch, if I had the merest hope of being able to eat another mouthful ever again I better don my unusually sensible hiking boots, hats and scarves a plenty and hit that beach. Perhaps if I stroll up and down it for a couple of hours and check out the rest of Ventnor I will be able to build up an appetite. Perhaps!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1377.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1377.jpg' border='0' width='205' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />During the winter the local dog walkers are allowed to release their excitable hairy charges onto the beach, so the surprisingly bright day was full of happy dogs, people wearing red hats trimmed with white fluff, the annual wearing of the festive socks and the whoops of children practicing riding their new scooters and bikes on the deserted seafront. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1378.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1378.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1379.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1379.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Ventnor has the customary fish and chip café, bucket and spade shop, ice cream parlor and amusement arcade (all very much with hatches battened down today) but it all seemed rather quaint. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1381.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1381.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1383.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1383.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />There seemed to be the distinct lack of tawdriness that some seaside resorts have. It's clean and neat, the air filled with crying swooping seagulls and that evocative salty tang to the air. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/1384.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/26/s_1384.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='191' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />There is a touch of back and beyond to it all and again I'm intrigued why Robert Thompson chose here to build his gourmet Mecca. But as a much cleverer restaurant reviewer remarked quoting the infamous line from the Field of Dreams - "If you build it, they will come!"<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br /><br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-56991459048953801612010-12-24T23:43:00.000+00:002010-12-26T20:40:19.080+00:00Have yourself a tasty little Christmas<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/25/398.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/25/s_398.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='238' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I was keen to explore the rest of my current 'home' (Robert Thompson the Hambrough) so agreed to have an aperitif in the lounge. I imagined roaring log fires, wing armchairs and homely touches but in fact it's more like a Swedish sauna with tables and chairs. The vaulted blonde wood ceiling and white plain walls gives it a slightly austere appearance, I suspect it comes into its own when you can fling open the French windows on a balmy summer evening onto the little terrace. On Christmas eve despite Ventnor's infamous microclimate, I'm not chancing it however! There are enormous glittery stars hanging from the rafters, little tealights in glass pots and my favourite white lilies but my room, though significantly bigger than the lounge, is much more cosy. The menu looks way more interesting, tonight's is as follows:<br /><br />Appetiser<br />----------<br />Cornish Oysters in Various Forms<br />Or<br />Salad of Smoked Pheasant Breast with Celeriac, Apple and Walnuts<br />Or<br />Fine Tart of Onions<br />----------<br />Watercress Soup with a Truffled Poached Organic Egg<br />Truffle Brioche<br />----------<br />Roasted Saddle of Venison with Creamed Savoy Cabbage <br />Roast Parsnip and Sauce Grand Veneur<br />Or<br />Pan Roasted Monkfish Tail with Curry Spices and Cornish Mussels<br />Seasonal Vegetables<br />Or<br />Risotto of Butternut Squash with Glazed Bosworth Ash, <br />Trompette De La Morte and Autumn Truffle<br />----------<br />Tart Tatin of Apple<br />Tahitian Vanilla Ice Cream<br />Or<br />Citrus Terrine with a Natural Yogurt Sorbet<br />Warm Madeleines <br />Or<br />A Selection of Fine Cheeses<br />----------<br />Coffee and Petit Fours<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3264.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3264.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='204' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I've ordered a deep, dark bottle of Clos des Andes Malbec for the duration of my stay, there are wine pairings available but I find generally these exceed my famously deficient (in some peoples' minds) capacity for alcohol so my decadent wine plus a couple of Kir Royales will do me just fine. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3235.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3235.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='208' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The dining room has a much warmer feel, there's still the wooden floorboards, the minimalist but elegant decor but with the sage green textured walls, jewel-like sea green satin blinds, the most stunning slightly Art Deco mirror above the unlit fireplace it's all so much more snug. Whilst I'm pondering the room my beautiful evocative-of-the-sea fluted crystal dress plate and silver twist of a napkin ring are removed and a linen waterlily containing a couple of just-from-the-oven Cheddar gougères appear accompanied by a mini disc of the most fragrant focaccia with that most perfect sea-salt adornment. Oh my this is seriously good! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3238.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3238.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='207' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />But lo, the appetizer arrives. It is a diminutive pot of the most sublime silky cauliflower panacotta, marinated lobster and shellfish oil and is a massive seafood hit but the perfect size to get you salivating for more. That's one talented chef! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3239.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3239.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='214' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Next I plumped for the Fine Tart of Onions, I may had hankered for some of the onion to be as caramelized as the rest but that's my own taste and I'm sure this was all part of achieving the optimal texture and there's no denying it's very tasty. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3240.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3240.jpg' border='0' width='272' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The heady aroma of the other diners' truffled brioche have already assailed me several times and when my Watercress Soup with a Truffled Poached Organic Egg and Truffle Brioche arrive I can't wait to dive in. Beneath the foam is the most verdant of green soups. I've waxed lyrical before about both my love of the black diamond - truffle (I'm rather partial to black diamonds in all forms actually) and softly poached eggs which when speared release their golden elixir in rivulets to anoint the rest of the dish. Hence my excitement and it didn't disappoint. It wasn't too heavy and felt slightly virtuous despite the decadence of the truffle. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3241.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3241.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='238' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The sculptural Roasted Saddle of Venison with Creamed Savoy Cabbage, Roast Parsnip and Sauce Grand Veneur was next to grace my white linen altar. I'd been fearing that I would struggle (blame the focaccia, gougères AND brioche!) but one taste of the Clanger shaped perfection of parsnip, a ridiculously good parsnip puree, the rosy succulent venison and that rich 'hunter' sauce and I'm sold. Somehow I manage to utterly clean the plate. I think I may have died and gone to heaven! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3243.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3243.jpg' border='0' width='173' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />A palate cleanser or pre dessert of pear posset with vanilla foam may restore my sense of equilibrium, I am literally reeling from this menu. The Space Dust (popping candy) hiding in the soft creamy folds of the foam literally has the pear nectar dancing on my tongue. I do love a Space Dust surprise, it's a witty little treat to find in your dessert. It seems the packets of my childhood have had a welcome resurgence and I for one think this is a good thing. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3244.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3244.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='264' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I'm not entirely sure there's any room left but I plan to tackle the at least a corner of the Tart Tatin of Apple with Tahitian Vanilla Ice Cream. I've had many tart Tatins, sometimes the pastry can be rather dense and stodgy, the caramel just too caramelized verging on bitterness and the whole thing can be very hard work and frankly just too tart. But this Tart Tatin is how they should be, the light-as-air pastry shattering on your tongue, the bronzed apples yielding to the spoon and a very attractive plate. It was a masterpiece, sadly there was no room at the inn (cue seasonal nod!) to do it complete justice as there is a limit. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/3245.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_3245.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='197' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The finale were a couple of festive petit fours and in my case, hot water. Even a mild Earl Grey may have pushed me over the edge tonight.<br />I chose to come to the island, to this (so I'm told) slightly shabby very off-season seaside town that time forgot because my interest was piqued by this intriguingly incongruous "restaurant with rooms." Michelin starred and Ventnor - sophisticated eyebrows were raised somewhat. But this is a find, this epicurean diamond truly is a gourmet destination, this incredibly breath-taking food and attentive and warm service wouldn't be out of place in any of the foodie capitals but here instead of having to drag myself onto public transport or spend a king's ransom getting a cab, I can just climb upstairs to my beautiful room and most likely collapse. <br />And oh my, tomorrow I get to do it all again! Thank goodness I has the foresight to bring my hiking boots, though possibly known as the worlds worse walker, I need to somehow prepare for an even more sumptuous Christmas lunch. Tomorrow I'll explore Ventnor and see if what I've read is true, I suspect that the chicest of seaside resorts would struggle to look its best all shuttered up in winter garb but I think there could be much promise in a windswept beach and wintry sea, as long as the rain stays away! It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-68393338574533472482010-12-24T20:19:00.001+00:002010-12-26T20:43:11.629+00:00Ticket to Ryde<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/2220.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_2220.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='159' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Well if I was being pedantic it should be a ticket from Ryde, as the fast cat (catamaran) called Night Ryder (yes I know!) pulled into Ryde Pier Head where in mere moments the wonderful vintage London Underground carriages chugged into the platform. And you can buy your ticket onboard, how civilized! And whilst we're talking civilized, the fast passenger ferry had wifi on it, how perfect for those of us who like to be connected to the interweb at all times!<br />I had been childishly enthusiastic about the displaced tube carriages as wasn't disappointed, these are the ones you might see in the transport museum not whisking Londoners and visitors hither and thither. They have long bench seats and dark wooden clad walls, have a vague musty smell but clearly have been spruced up recently. The pale paintwork is crisp and the distinctive seat upholstery is bright and very free of graffiti. I travelled the full length of the rail network, a whole 23 minutes worth and loved the spotless stations with their quaint metal destination signage and neat fences, have I stepped back in time? It was a curious experience to see the sea from a tube window, your only chance of that on a London tube is if you've managed to board some runaway train, and I may have left a white world but here in the Isle of Wight it's pretty green. There are little patches of snow but the recent rain has washed all the rest away. The sky was streaked deliciously with salmon and satsuma as we crossed over so I'm hoping tomorrow bodes a fine photogenic day. <br />As the train stopped going all the way to Ventnor back in the 60's the last leg of the journey was by taxi. My driver gave me a great introduction to the area and as we pulled up to my hotel - Robert Thompson The Hambrough - named as such to remind you it's all about the food (Robert is the Michelin starred head chef), we remarked of the wonderful prominence over the sea. I hoped I may be lucky enough to have a sea view and thus be able to admire that enviable view during my entire stay. And much to my delight I'd been upgraded to a fabulous room with a seating area overlooking the sea from two sides and also a huge bathtub also with a sea view.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/2221.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_2221.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='178' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I believe the rooms have recently been refurbished and have that sumptuous elegance I love so in boutique hotels. There's velvet cushions, a comfy sofa, a bed piled high with satin sequined and beaded fabrics, a great walk in closet that lights up when you open the doors so all your luggage can be magically out of sight and if I was inclined towards coffee, a shiny illy proper espresso machine of my very own. I opted for Champagne instead! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/2222.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_2222.jpg' border='0' width='179' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The bathroom has both a rainfall shower and the bathtub with a view, toasty underfloor heating, striking greeny blue glass mosaics and lots of yummy toiletries. <br />If I lack inspiration for my own entertainment I've got access to a vast DVD library. But i have my much desired wifi so I intend to while away my time blogging - it's well overdue! <br />One of my favourite touches is a couple of sophisticated matching with the decor (naturally!) Christmas trees for that festive feel. I'd had a taste of their chic yet rich Christmas decorations as we ascended the staircase to my room and I look forward to seeing the rest of the hotel when I emerge for dinner. I had a good feeling about this place before I'd arrived, the website, the excellent customer service I received (tons of advice of getting here and it was all spot on) and the warmest of welcome. This will be a very, merry, both elegant and delicious Christmas I sense! Cheers! <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-87487193114009902742010-12-24T15:04:00.001+00:002010-12-25T01:56:42.153+00:00Back traveling and blogging... again!<br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/1185.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_1185.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='211' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />The thing about writing is that it's a solitary occupation. It's okay to whip out your little leather bound notebook and propelling pencil to jot down a couple of bon mots in company but anything more could be construed as just rude. On my last holiday I imagined that I'd be scribbling away whenever I got the chance but even though I went by myself I was living with others and we were generally armed with our cameras from dawn to dusk. And if we weren't snapping away or toiling over a hot Photoshop (well actually the Nikon equivalent which I wasn't a fan of due to my camera of choice being a Leica and it coming originally accompanied by Photoshop Elements which just seems so much more intuitive, but enough of technology frustrations) we were eating delicious food (which of course I also photographed) but now I'm heading forth for my Christmas break and I'm determined to attempt to record some of the fabulous places and tasty food I've enjoyed over the last few months (years!) <br />I do seem to be permanently apologising for being a dreadfully delinquent blogger. I so admire those that manage to write interesting, witty and informative blogs every day. Like many I write a lot at work each day, but spreadsheets and emails are not so artistically imaginative. I hope I mostly achieve informative, I can only hope for interesting also and crave for wittiness! Though a witty spreadsheet may indeed be a challenge! But after a long day doing my real job and wrangling my inbox into something less likely to erupt into fireworks of consonants and vowels I struggle to conjure the creative juices to commit to words the culinary musings that swirl round my head.<br />But yet again I find myself making promises, I think my two New Year's resolutions should definitely be to write more (blog wise) and do my expenses more regularly. I don't know if you're reading this H but if so I can hear you cheering at the latter. As the festive season stretches ahead of me hopefully with days filled with picturesque walks armed with my camera (note to self - must pack remotely sensible footwear), writing, reading and relaxing preferably in front of a roaring fire. There will be Michelin Christmas fare to savour, photograph beautifully and write about. Once I've got my bearings there's a little steam train I may have to ride to add to my nostalgic steam journeys of Britain (though I have no recollection of ever just getting from a to b on a steam train, I'm too young for that. All my steam train journeys have been at the hands of train enthusiasts who've lovingly restored some neglected carriages and coaxed a retired engine back to life to start breathing like a dragon again.<br />My destination for Christmas is the Isle of Wight. I've never been but when my original plans to return back to North Norfolk fell through because I didn't book my hotel early enough I threw myself into the hands of the Sawday's Special Places to Stay website and filtered by "restaurants with rooms". Lots of interesting ideas popped up but I did think I should possibly consider inclement weather just in case. As it turned out I had surprisingly percipiency as various parts of country seem very much buried under snow at this point, with possibly more to come. Now I'm not there yet (my journey is a bus, two trains, a ferry, another train and then a taxi) but I'm hoping the Isle of Wight's infamous micro-climate means I'll not be entirely snowed in. But if the weather does take a turn for the worse it will be the perfect excuse to stay tucked up by the fire, sipping mulled wine and writing. I'm crossing everything for a wifi connection so that after all that effort I can release my ponderings, my ruminations if you will, onto the world wide interweb. <br />But before I get all cosy in my little boutique-y home-from-home for a few days there's the small matter of getting there. Out of my train carriage window of train number two I see much more snow than I left behind, and am grateful that unusually for me I donned proper hiking boots for this journey. I'm not known for being suitably shod on any occasion (flashbacks of high heeled, strappy sandals on a Hawaiian beach and stiletto suede shoes for the chilly French countryside (read cobbles, grass, gravel etc.)) but for once I feel curiously prepared. Okay I will slip into something more comfortable, i.e. high-heeled and sequined, on safe arrival in 'Narnia' but for now I'm ready - Snow Queen and all. The most exciting part if the journey for me is the third train, apparently the Isle of Wight's dinky little Island line uses two old London tube carriages. Seeing I board a variety of tube trains on a daily basis I'm not sure why the thought of some vintage displaced underground carriages delights me so but it does. I guess it just makes it feel a bit more of an adventure. <br />Generally Christmas time is when we go somewhere very familiar, a childhood home, squashed around a large, loud dining table with the extended family, making the annual pilgrimage to the more far flung relatives clutching be-tinseled parcels and bottles of something warming. But my festive holiday is a little different, I'm going to a brand new place, to experience a totally different Christmas with strangers. I won't have a stocking to investigate or surprise parcels to unwrap but I will have a new world to explore, turkey-free gourmet food to savour and no washing up! For all of you trying to get to other places this Christmas both near and far I wish you undelayed journeys, considerate snow drifts and a warm welcome on arrival and of course a very merry Christmas. Ho ho ho! <br /> <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br /><br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25316797.post-34655322965293264572010-09-10T15:38:00.000+01:002010-09-12T16:39:19.144+01:00Let them eat cake!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/12/1075.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/12/s_1075.jpg' border='0' width='205' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Or how a horse, a pig and a tiny monkey helped us celebrate!<br /> <br />Birthdays generally feature cake and if you're especially lucky multiple cakes! The cake may manifest itself in a rich cream-filled gâteau beribboned and lavishly topped with delicate chocolate curls, a tower of tiny cupcakes scattered with glittery silver balls and crystalised hearts or if so inclined plump iced buns filled with crème patisserie. In some circles your special day is marked by consuming portions of your own face as your considerate friends and family have had you briefly immortalised in the medium of edible ink and icing! Or perhaps you've had your current pastime captured in cake form, if you're a budding centre forward perhaps you'd most crave a football cake, a rock star in training may appreciate their powder blue Fender Stratocaster carved into sponge of if 'In the night garden' was your bag you could have an icing Iggle Piggle dancing in one corner and no doubt Makka Pakka obsessively sweeping up crumbs in the other.<br />As well as the cake there's also the important ritual of blowing out the requisite number of candles accompanied by a rendition of "Happy Birthday" and making your annual wish but thankfully giving someone "the bumps" seems to have gone entirely out of fashion! <br />Today is both my fairy goddaughter KK and my birthday. And at the terribly grownup age of 4 (and at my somewhat older age!) it seemed fitting to have a proper grownup afternoon tea party. And we decided this afternoon tea should be relished in the place of previous enjoyable afternoon frolics - the Caramel Room at the Berkeley Hotel in Knightsbridge. They can provide the typical afternoon tea just like other purveyors of this tradition - dainty sandwiches, lavishly jam and Devon cream topped scones and a sweet finish of some sort of dinky cakes and/or pastries but they also have a speciality up their culinary sleeves. The pièce de résistance is their Prêt-à-Portea or 'a fashionista's afternoon tea'. Their unique twist is to get inspiration for their delectable creations from this season's designer collections. Artfully arranged on our iconic Paul Smith cake plates are a Sonia Rykiel nautical vanilla and raspberry jam layered mousse topped with a humorous yellow hat, Yves Saint Laurent soft romantic white chocolate mousse and raspberry custard finished with crunchy meringue scattered with mini strawberries, Chanel must-have clog biscuit adorned with chocolate studs, Erdem dark silky chocolate cake filled with passion fruit and delicate lace, Jean Paul Gaultier fluorescent cheese cake, Anya Hindmarch light apricot sponge summer Halen bag, belted Jason Wu poppy seed cocktail dress, Christopher Kane pale pink almond macaroon and Paul Smith orange, papaya and pink lavender bavarois. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/12/1076.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/12/s_1076.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='149' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />But before we start sharing out the 'desserts' we have some typical little triangular sandwiches filled with smoked salmon, beef and pickle, soft cheese and crunchy cucumber and egg mayonnaise rolls then we had a plate of savouries. Again these reflect the season so we have spoonfuls of saucy moist nuggets of duck, marinated prawns, cornets filled will delicate crabmeat, soft cheese and roe rolls and refreshing watermelon shooters. As we demolish these, our most favourites are replenished before the lure of the designer exotica makes us cast the savouries aside. My top of pops are the gooey chocolate cake, the delicate macaroon and the biscuity chocolate iced clog. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/12/1077.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/12/s_1077.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='174' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />And if the loaded cake tier wasn't enough both KK and I have our individual beautifully decorated plates delivered topped with spookily my favourite cakes crowned with a candle to blow out and wish upon. <br />KK is a little too distracted by her presents to consider the delights on her purple monkey-head plate much. I'd got her a tiny knitted monkey to attach to her schoolbag as she started pre-school this week and as she is now old enough to start pony riding lessons I thought I'd buy her a large toy horse so her other extensive baby doll, teddy and monkey collection can learn to ride also. Another J had got her an ever so soft Peppa Pig which was accompanied by its own puppy. How apt as another J herself has the most gorgeous beagle puppy Jäger! So KK has her first rider and H is already dreading getting a potentially sugar-high four year old and cumbersomely large horse home in the rush-hour. Whoops er sorry about that! <br />I've also done incredibly well and been lavished in loveliness. Continuing the designer theme another J has presented me a bottle of my favourite Coco by Chanel perfume and H has given me a gorgeous Alex Munroe necklace I've had my eye on. I've also succumbed to a delicious morsel of sparkliness designed by my local friendly jewelers (I'd only gone in to pick up a repair!) Thoroughly spoilt for sure! <br />The company and the cakes were utterly wonderful and it's been a truly memorable birthday, the only niggle was that the Berkeley had an unfortunate issue with their air-conditioning and both the beautiful, sweet creations and all of us were melting in the heat. It was actually a joy to get back outside again. We were given the now a little more compact mint green 'handbag' shaped doggy-bag with a few more of those Chanel inspired clog biscuits and other cakes in them to take home and they really tried to find a bag big enough to accommodate the as yet unnamed horse, though that proved too tall an order. So what shall we do when you're five KK? And I promise H if I go large again I'll have 'the man' deliver it! <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06625520972772622982noreply@blogger.com1