The Compass, Islington. Gastrogrub.

Those that know me know that little piggies, and any possible edible derivative of them, are things that I like very much. Possibly a bit too much in fact as I regularly dream of the day when a prosciutto Spa opens in London where I can be wrapped in slices of Parma and be fed tidbits of Coppa by some semi-naked Lothario dressed in a loincloth made... of pork loin...

Now, stick the words "ham hock" beside the word "rillettes" (yum, oozing salty goose fat!) and I pretty much start hearing wedding bells a-ringing and need to whip out my secret drool bucket I keep stashed in a back pocket somewhere.

Well, the drool bucket certainly made an appearance at The Compass where I devoured ham hock rilletes with picallili on fresh bread before demolishing half of my friend's silky, pungeant chicken liver, wild mushroom and truffle oil pate with cornichons (gotta love those cornichons...).

The Compass sits on a rather unassuming street, and in fact doesn't really stick out much. Inside is not exactly award-winning decor either, with simple, but tasteful wooden tables and a curved bar beside the open kitchen at the front. For being a Gastropub, its slightly lacking on the pub side of things as the whole room is devoted to restaurant seating. But they make rillettes with ham hock, so after my third glass of Tempranillo Cabernet from Spain and having licked my fingers clean of any possible trace of pate de foie, I was ready to forgive them. In fact I nearly assaulted the waitress with my over eager praise of the spreadable delight.

I enjoyed a crispy seabream with squash and cockles in a soft, creamy sauce, but looked enviously at Alberto's prettily pink roast spiced lamb with couscous and tzatziki.

I somehow ended up having a Laphroaig with my cheese, not entirely sure why but Alberto seemed keen on hitting the smokey stuff so went along with it.

Cheeseboard contained a totally unremarkable Isle of Mull cheddar, a lovely Colston basset stilton, and my favourite, the rather nutty Tunworth soft rind. With cranberry chutney.

Those who only fancy barsnacks can head in almost any gastronomic direction here from "chip butty" to grilled crab on toast or chorizo in wine. Had pay day been yesterday I could have gone into these further, but sadly, I'm a lass on a (pretty rubbish) budget.

The Compass. Hopefully you won't need one to find your way there. Pronto.

Jedi Nights at Gordon's Wine Bar

Continuing my foray into the world of internet dating... its amazing how fast two humans can arrange a second "date" once they've discovered a mutual affection for lightsabers (note: this is not an innuendo - I really am talking about Jedi techy stuff here).

So, not quite the Mos Eisley cantina, but dark, stuffy and sufficiently cavernous to pass for a distant Tatooine cousin, the Gordon's Wine Bar near Embankment station was the setting for an evening of too much (good) wine, too much (good, smelly) cheese but just the right amount of good conversation.


I love Gordon's. The cosy alcoves smell a bit like musty old port barrels, which is exactly what the place should smell like, the entirely French and Italian staff are mostly useless but somehow totally appropriate, the slabs of cheese are humungous and there's cornichons "a volonte" clearly, they know me well. They serve a really good selection of port, sherry, manzanilla, red, white, rose and madeira and also have a decent hot food buffet. Best in the summer months is the hog roast at the end of the long thin strip of patio/garden that stretches outside the wine bar along the Embankment gardens.
Shoddy lighting outside does mean that after sundown you're somewhat falling into/over people, although that might also just be the port talking. Cheese-wise, we enjoyed some Port Salut, a dolcelatte and some Stinking Bishop. I think. Divine.

A. drank something or other, E. drank something or other different, both choices were yum. A. and E. then both shared a bottle of Rose which was crisp and refreshing (yes, I sound as knowledgeable as a Wetherspoon's wine list) then A and E proceeded to demolish the leftovers of someone else's wine, thus proving we really are about as classy as those egg-headed creatures in the Star Wars cantina band.

With all that it's rather a miracle A. and E. didn't break out into an all out demented Ewok-dance fest on the tube.

FROMAGE

VERSUS

Just a note to respond to many demands made to me by various French compadres I have met over the years about Britain's "lack of cheese". It turns out Britain produces over 700 varieties of cheese. We have 14 "Protected Origin" cheeses. So the French can stop complaining, we can wheel out the fromage just as well as they can. Stick that in your reblochon and smoke it! Merci.

Leicester Arms Hotel, Penshurst SURREY

I usually visit the Leicester Arms on Boxing Day when villagers of Penshurst and the surrounding area flock under the awnings of this cosy country retreat clutching mulled wine and excitedly await the start of the Hunt.

I've always enjoyed my visits here, especially in winter where the log fires, squishy old arm chairs and wonky oak beams combine to create that oh-so-cherished country pub atmosphere you expect in a dainty, sparkling hamlet such as this. 

This is the first time I've actually had a three course meal here, in a large, airy restaurant at the back, traditionally furnished with large glass-paned windows giving over a view of the pub's pretty gardens and the valley below. 

The Sunday menu is pretty much meat-and-two veg, with few surprises and rather unimpressive vegetables. Portions are very generous however and the slow-roasted meats did fall off the bone in soft, satisfying chunks as well as being steeped in rich, homemade gravies. 

I made the mistake of ordering the crispy fried prawns with sweet chilli sauce, a daft choice considering our position (far from both the sea and a decent fishmonger). The prawns were watery and tasteless, the batter oozing oil and the sweet chilli sauce out of a Blue Dragon bottle.

Dad had the duck and orange patè, which although not made on the premises, was delicious, creamy and served with a thick red onion chutney and hot, crispy toast.

For mains, Dad had the roast beef, two rollicking great slices that hung over the edge of the plate glistening with gravy and an overly tough and crunchy yorkshire pud. Mum and I opted for slow-cooked lamb shank, mine was both slow cooked and over-cooked (I know, should be impossible), by which I mean that the edges had become gnarled, hardened and chewy, yet inside they were absolute perfection!

Roast potatoes were HUGE and soft, squidgy and oily. Carrots and beans watery and insipid. So far, not winning.

Then we got to the puddings! Hurrah for puds!

My Rich chocolate sponge with Bailey's and Belgian Chocolate sauce was light and fluffy with just a hint of gooey, rich interior and a thick, slightly honeyed sauce (the Bailey's I presume). 

Mum's Dark Chocolate pot was worth licking the plate for, silky smooth and not too much.

Dad's rasberry tart and custard went down a storm, and since he was unable to comment as he was too busy shovelling it into his mouth, one assumes it was as success!

Presentation was simple but elegant. Had I only come for dessert, I'd be happy as Larry! 

Drank a very scrumptious and fruity red Urrugunda from Chile too...

Jamie-inspired "100% British" dinner. The supermarket way...

 This week saw Jamie Oliver cooking up a storm at the G20, with a very British menu showcasing the best of our own homegrown, home-reared produce. Whilst the Guardian food blog saw a few discontented foodies bemoan the choice of "trendy" Jamie for chef and wailed at the simplicity of the menu/this ingredient/that ingredient etc. 

Well, I thought the boy done good, the dinner was simple, wholesome food (the type Italy gained its fame for), using fresh British veg which doesn't make it onto our tables nearly as often as it should, such as samphire and sea kale. 

He also uses several ingredients which have PDO (Protected Destination of Origin) status (clotted cream, Jersey Royals), which we should be showing off as we have so few of them compared to France and Italy. For the full menu click on the link:

Jamie Oliver's G20 Menu

Not that I'm a hardcore fanatical about this: you'd struggle to live entirely on UK homegrown food unless you had an allotment, lots of time on your hands, lots of money, great weather or a huge love of potatoes. Somerset tomato, anyone? Nah, didn't think so... I did want to stress, however,  that to make a great meal, you don't need to rely on imports. I also prefer to support our local producers wherever possible, even if it means spending a tiny bit more.

Inspired by all this, I headed to my local supermarket to shop for ingredients to create a Best of British dinner using only UK produce to get an idea of how a normal family of three or four could feed themselves on good-quality produce for less than a fiver a head. All without relying on Argentinian plums and New Zealand lamb, or dubious economy 90%-breadcrumbs sausages. 

The rules:

-all ingredients MUST be UK.

-no economy range/additive-filled stuff

- less than a fiver a head

Naturally, I'd love to do all this at a local farmer's market or local shops, and I would encourage that and repeat this exercise at one of my local markets. This time round though is for the benefit of those who have difficulty in getting to a farmer's market.

EMMA'S MINCE PIES (NO SUET)

'Tis the Christmas season, we've hung up our stockings, the tree is heaving with baubles and bells, so far no one has sneaked a naughty chocolate from the advent calendar... Anyone who knows me knows I'm a Christmas fantatic and usually start getting excited around mid-october. Rather pathetic I know, but at least it means by the time the season is upon us I'm already pre-prepared. Today it was the turn of the mince pies. Since I can't get them in Italy and I forgot to bring some over from my last visit to the UK, I thought I'd make my own - they'll taste better I'm sure! I didn't use suet because a) doesn't exist in Italy, b) totally lardy, c) the vegetarian suet doesn't do it for me...

I made a simple shortcrust pastry and left it in the fridge for an hour while I prepared the mince meat.

Shortcrust pastry:

Plain Flour - 110 g (4 oz)
Fat - 25 g (1 oz) lard & 25 g (1 oz) Butter
Water - 1 tablespoon cold water
A pinch of salt

rub the butter and flour together until it resembles fine breadcrumbs, then add the water and knead until you get a smooth, maleable dough.

There are endless recipes for mincemeat each as yummy as the other, but the basics as far as I'm concerned are: dried fruits, chopped nuts, lots of christmas spices and lashings of brandy. Here's my actual recipes, with human measurements...

three large cooking apples, peeled, cored and chopped up.
four handfuls of brown sugar, the softer the better.
handful of chopped almonds
two handfuls of chopped dried figs
zest of a large lemon
zest and juice of an orange
handful of chopped candied orange peel
two handfuls of raisins (or sultanas)
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp crushed cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg
5 tablespoons of brandy

YUM!

I started by cooking the apples in a pan with a handful of sugar and the crushed cloves. Once they were almost purée-like I took them off the heat. I added the chopped figs, chopped nuts and all the other ingredients and finally the brandy.

Then I let the whole lot sit for an hour whilst I rolled the dough and cut circles to make my pie shapes. I heated the oven to 200° (400 F, I think...).

Put your dough circles into your little tart moulds, fill each tart with about a tablespoon of mincemeat, cover with another circle of dough and press together to close the pie. You can cut shapes and top your pies with those as well if you're feeling creative, or make one HUGE mince pie with a lattice topping. As long as there's lashings of brandy in your mincemeat, you can't go wrong!
Bake for about 25 minutes, until they are golden brown and your kitchen smells like Santa's workshop, and VOILA! Mince pie a go-go!

Serve with brandy butter, clotted cream, runny cream, ice cream, icing sugar, whatever takes your fancy!