Breakfast after the night before!

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. 

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. 

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.

Oh and then there's the final lunch, gulp, must...work...up...appetite!

Haunted hamper

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!   

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. 

Selection of Cured Spanish Meats

Potted Gressingham Duck with Orange

Scottish Smoked Salmon with Crème Fraîche and Lemon

Smoked Mackerel and Peppercorn Pâté with Sourdough

Selection of Olives

Spanish Fried Mix

Local Potato Crisps

Selection of Local and Continental Cheeses

Freshly Baked Bread

Homemade Scones with Jam and Cream

Shortbread

Clementine Sponge

Vanilla and Caramella Chocolate Fudge

Cranberry Jelly

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! 

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!

Christmas Stuffing!

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. 

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?  

The cheese oozing gougères are out again this lunchtime, still incredibly moreish! 

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.

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. 

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’.

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.

The fish course was Pan Fried Fillet of Local Cod

(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. 

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

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.  

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. 

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.

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. 

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!

It's Christmaaaas!

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. 

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. 

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. 

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! 

T'was the night before Christmas

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.   

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.   

Todays appetiser is a little white onion velouté topped with winter-warming chermoula foam.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

After the longest pause I can muster the main event arrives. Island Beef with Potato Gnocci, Crispy Braised

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. 

And for the final flourish the entire dish is decorated with Jackson Pollock splashes of verdant parsley oil.

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. 

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. 

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!

Don't forget your batteries!

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.  

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.  

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. 

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!

Let the feasting begin

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

A white Isle of Wight

Today the white has descended! The Isle of Wight is truly white finally, but not with snow but with a swirling mist.


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.
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!
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.


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.



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.


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.


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.


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!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Too many tomatoes in the world!

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.
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.


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.
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.
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!
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!


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!


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!


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