Showing posts with label cheese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cheese. Show all posts

Monday, 26 July 2010

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.

Thursday, 8 July 2010

Cracking good time at Prix Fixe bistrot.

Meandering through the wierd and not so wonderful world of the post-break up, heart still a touch battered and appetite on a whirlwind of ups and downs, I decided to amuse myself by exploring a little light-hearted internet dating.

Call it part social experiment, part desperate attempt to move on, part insanity.

So, blind date number one (and this is in no way meant to sound like there's hundreds of them lined up!), let's call him "A" to preserve the poor guy's anonymity, was at Prix Fixe Brasserie which is only appropriate as my date was French (anyone seeing a trend here?) and, thank heavens, not vegetarian.

Last time I ate here I don't think I'd ever even earned a pay check, although not much has changed, except they now serve Atlantic Rock Oysters (hurrah!) of which I ate five as my starter. Plump, sweet, large, perfectly good and not horrendously overpriced.

A opted for roasted foie gras (you can keep 40 virgins and God, when I die I want a bathful of this stuff) on toast. Actually, since we were too busy discussing my traumatic friday (neighbour jumping off roof, coma, police etc. average Brixton night) I never actually asked to taste it, but since he finished the lot, and hey, its roasted foie gras, I'll make a stab at it and say it was very good.

Mains were slow-roasted pork belly for me, with sauerkraut and apple relish. The slab of belly was humungous and the crispy skin so thick I nearly swerved it off my plate a few times, but quite scrumptious, although a smaller portion might have made me feel less like a hog myself.

A. had simple entrecote and frites on recommendation of the waiter who seemed to snub the filet. Again, yakking away as I do when I'm nervous, I totally missed the food exchange opportunity. So... probably a decent steak...

The fun came at the cheese course, where for almost ten pounds I got served a wedge of cheese small enough to mistake for a postage stamp but accompanied by enough cheese crackers to build a second leaning tower of Pisa. How I was supposed to divide my teeny cheese wedge onto so many crackers was beyond me, and I could see A. (scientist) eagerly making calculations in his head, but the mathematical conundrum that this cheese to cracker ratio presented was beyond all of us. It did provide quite a few laughs though, and the cheese, though small, was very good.

I won't bother telling you what A. had for pudding because AGAIN I failed to try any. Poor show on the Itinerant Epicure's behalf I must say...

But anyhow, the lot was washed down with a rather good New Zealand Jibe 2006 Pinot Noir and conversation flowed very nicely and we both have problems with mice in our houses and an inevitable Strasbourg connection (small world, getting smaller by the minute). So all in all a pleasant evening.

Which is good since I'm heading to Prix Fixe next week for my birthday dinner, which means I can try the steak and the foie gras and the dessert and actually report back properly as a good food blogger should and even take annoying photos of my dishes!

Now, must go and read that article on French Basque cuisine in the Guardian... the mind tries to move on but the heart doesn't so quickly...


PRIX FIXE
39 Dean StreetLondon
W1D 4PU
020 7734 5976

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

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.

Monday, 12 April 2010

Isle of "soft White" Cheese


I just got back from three days camping on the Isle of Wight, a treat if ever there was one and a haven for happy looking animals galavanting all over the glorious countryside.
At a rather fine delicatessen in Yarmouth on the way home, I picked up some Isle of Wight gourmet goodies to take home and chanced upon a goooorgeous cheese (think divine ooze of creamy deliciousness streaming forth from a silky smooth shell) by the name of Isle of Wight Soft, produced by the Queen Bower Dairy (also a campsite) near Sandown. Their motto is "We Love Cheese", so they instantly became idols of mine. More oozy than Camembert, but on the Brie end of taste, I narfed a large hunk of this godlike dairy delight on a fig cracker as soon as I got home and melted into cheeselicious paradise.
Go forth and buy online if you can't make it over there yourselves!