Monday, 8 May 2017

Safety Dance

So, the season at the City Ground finished much as it had begun, with the stadium bathed in sunshine and Nottingham Forest scoring freely and securing three points. That doesn't tell the story though, not a bit of it. This is some of the story...

51 x points
2 x away wins
3 x managers (albeit one interim)
2 x of them no longer manager
3 x takeover attempts
2 x of them failing
4 x different goalkeepers
1 x undersold bright young prospect
1 x sold captain
Hundreds x fans blocked by Fawaz on Twitter
2 x Directors of Football
1 x league double (thanks Ipswich)
2 x goal difference keeping us up
1 x new hope?

All the above, and so much more, led us to midday on Sunday 7th May. The objective was clear: match Blackburn Rovers' result, ideally by winning, and winning by enough goals to make their task away at Brentford as difficult as possible. We couldn't rely on anyone else, we had to do this ourselves.

The fans played their part, resulting in the highest home attendance of the season; even the weather did too, with early clouds giving way to glorious sunshine. Could the players live up to the billing though, which they'd failed to do all too often this season...?

Early signs weren't great - in fact they couldn't have been much worse - as Blackburn and Birmingham triggered the Doomsday Scenario by taking 2-0 and 1-0 leads in their respective matches. Forest dropped into the bottom three. The only crumb of comfort was that we hadn't fallen behind, but we so nearly did. Only the outstretched left hand of wrong-footed goalkeeper Jordan Smith kept us level; incredibly palming onto the crossbar a deflected Dominic Samuel shot. It's not too great an exaggeration to say that Smith's save saved the season.

And minutes later its importance became clear, as Jamie Ward latched onto Eric Lichaj's throw-in, lifted the ball over Ipswich keeper Bartosz Bialkowski and got comprehensively cleaned out. Watching from behind the sofa at home as I was (#notarealfan) I was just gutted that the ball had been cleared off the line. I never even thought of a penalty. The referee did though and that's what matters. Up stepped Britt Assombalonga to sweep the ball into the top corner and rekindle hope. For the moment, Forest were safe.

The moment nearly didn't last long though, as an Ipswich corner found the head of Christope Berra who glanced it just wide. Half time came with Forest outside the drop zone by the most slender of margins. A goal in any of the three relevant matches could change the whole picture, and it wasn't long into the second half before the goals came.

Firstly Brentford clawed a goal back against Blackburn, giving Forest a bit more breathing space. Not long afterwards, Chris Cohen received the ball outside the Ipswich box, drew back his left foot and let fly. And fly it did - via a Town defender and into the top corner. The emotion on Cohen's face reminded me of when he scored the brilliant 3rd goal away at West Brom in the first of Billy Davies' playoff seasons, so long ago. Safety was close now - so close we could almost touch it.

It should've been closer still when Assombalonga's pass released the outstanding Ward who drew a foul in the box and another penalty. Britt couldn't seal the deal though as Bialkowski brilliantly tipped over. Would this cost us? Was there to be one more twist? Not this time. For, minutes later, Assombalonga ran onto David Vaughan's quickly taken free-kick, drove into the box and smashed his second into the roof of the net. Relief all round. A third goal from Blackburn ultimately proved futile and it was they who slid into League One. But it was close. Far too close.

In the end, season 2016/17 finished much as the previous one had, with Championship status preserved and the club potentially on the cusp of new ownership. If the deal should be completed this time (and I'm certainly counting no chickens yet) then who knows what lays in store next? Out of the frying pan, or a new hope? Only time will tell.

Thursday, 20 April 2017

Wow For Yauatcha

"Are you sure you want to order that?" asked Lisa, our charmingly chirpy waitress. "It's a lot of food." "We'll be fine," we assured her. Had she seen how much we eat? Plus, well, it's a Chinese isn't it? We'll be hungry again half an hour later. After polishing off our desserts and feeling like Jabba the Hutt after he'd pigged out on those frogs he eats however, we had to concede that Lisa was right.

Having never visited Yauatcha in Soho before and having been flummoxed by the sheer choice on the menu (and not knowing what some of it even was), we'd decided that the Yauatcha Signature Dim Sum Menu was the way to go. If I were to go again - which I certainly would as it was excellent - I'd be braver and make my own choices.

Anyway. Before the menu proper we'd been presented with some slivers of cucumber and dipping sauces (soy, sweet chilli and slap round the face chilli), and selected our drink for the evening; a carafe of sake served in a cunningly-fashioned bottle with a reservoir for crushed ice which kept the drink cool yet undiluted.

First up was a tremendous venison puff: crisp, sweet, flaky pastry encasing rich meat. From then on things became a blur of dumplings; each of them light, some steamed, others boiled, and all packed full of wondrous fillings. The 'lasagne' - tubes of rice-flour 'pasta' crammed with mushrooms - was particularly good. The crab salad from the menu wasn't available. However, the duck salad we received in its stead was fabulous. Rich, flaky duck with a mixture of leaves, herbs and pomegranate seeds.

It was the seafood soup which first made us realise that Lisa knew her stuff, as the dumpling it was served with was truly a giant amongst dumplings. A tasty giant though - stuffed as it was with scallop and crab meat. More duck, shredded in front of us and served up with pancakes and a deep Hoisin sauce, was next, before crispy squid and baby pak choi finished the job. We couldn't quite manage to do the same though, not without leaving a bit of room for dessert anyway.

Service was brisk and friendly, and Lisa seemed mortified to learn that we'd been given the bill before our dessert had arrived. As we'd turned up earlier than our reservation time and been told we'd need to vacate the table by 20:30 we'd actually thought it was just the restaurant being efficient rather than a mistake. No harm done anyhow. Value-wise, Yauatcha was pretty good. Our tasting menus, the sake and the service charge all included came to just over £100, which for the quality and quantity of food was a steal. If we'd picked our own dishes we could've probably knocked that down into double figures.

I'd definitely visit Yauatcha again, and would probably make my own menu choices next time. My belt would definitely thank me for it.

Sunday, 12 March 2017

The Joy of Tex(ture)

The Marble Arch end of Oxford Street can be pandemonium at the best of times (I'm looking at you Primark). However, a few minutes walk away you can find an oasis of calm, coolness and cracking culinary concoctions. It's called Texture, and it's magnificent.

After having been guided to our seats (despite having arrived twenty minutes early), one of our many charming waiters explained to us how head chef Agnar Sverrisson would treat us to his representation of Icelandic cuisine. Never having been to Iceland I can't vouch for the authenticity of our experience. I can comment on the taste and quality though, and both were absolutely top class.

A bowl of assorted crackers and a mild blue cheese dip, and some crusty bread accompanied by intense olive oil and Icelandic lava salt set things up nicely before the meal proper began. Our appetiser was artichoke soup, and fine soup it was too, given crunch with the inclusion of hazelnuts and depth with a hint of truffle.

On paper I wasn't expecting much from the beetroot, walnuts and Gorgonzola snow which followed, but on the plate it was an absolute revelation. Three hefty chunks of earthy beetroot joined crunchy walnuts and the creamy snow to create a wonderful mix of tastes, temperatures and textures. The portion size was pretty respectable too, and I find myself considering if this was why Iceland seems to have a proliferation of strongmen, eating helpings like this. A selection of herbs rounded the dish off beautifully.

Beetroot

Anjou pigeon, pink and succulent, was next. Slivers of pickled calcot onion provided welcome sourness and textures of corn (including salty bacon popcorn and lovely sweetcorn) added smacks of salty-sweetness to another excellent dish.

Pigeon

The strong aroma of smoked eel ushered in the next course, though the fish itself was surprisingly mild in flavour. The bonito broth in which it sat was also pleasingly subtle, as was the crispy quinoa, while slices of pickled turnips gave the course a wonderful zing. As Nottingham people would say it 'made your tabs laugh.' (Look that up, readers from anywhere else in the country).

A departure from the advertised Icelandic lamb made up the meat course, though I'm not sure the lamb could've matched this absolute triumph. Deep, beefy ox cheek, rib eye so spongy and soft I could've lain upon it and got a fantastic night's sleep, crunchy chips that were more like sculpted roast potatoes, a fruity Port sauce, a smear of horseradish and an olive oil zabaglione. Imagine the very best bits of the very best roast dinner and you'd be getting close.

Blood orange granita and basil (I think) sorbet freshened things up nicely before a really interesting finish to the tasting menu. White chocolate mousse, not too sweet, joined chunks of cucumber and sprigs of dill to make up a dessert which was light enough to end the proceedings on a real high. We skipped the optional cheese and had coffee instead, which was served with some of the best petit fours we've ever had. The warm, crunchy pistachio Madeliene was particularly enjoyable.

Petit fours

Service was excellent throughout and the almost-salty Chardonnay the sommelier suggested was great, and within the price-range we'd asked for. The dining room was large and grand but the atmosphere was relaxed and easy-going, unlike other London restaurants we've visited before. There really wasn't a duff note all night.

Texture certainly lives up to its name as each course had it in abundance. But texture is nothing without taste, and this meal certainly had that too. If this is what Icelandic cuisine can offer then a visit to the land of the midnight sun may well be in order. If not, then a return to Texture will do very nicely instead.





Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Empty Beds and Empty Baskets

An ode to Arnie. To the tune of Empty Chairs and Empty Tables from Les Miserables (sung by Eddie Redmayne here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqqSa9n2ZQk)

There’s a grief that can’t be spoken
There’s a pain goes on and on
Empty beds and empty baskets
Now our cat has sadly gone

Here he dreamed of chasing birdies
Here it was he played his games
Here he meowed about tomorrow
But tomorrow never came

From his scratchpost in the corner
He could see the trees and lawn
And he rose with whiskers twitching
And I can see him now, the very mice that he had caught
He played with and he chewed them
By the lonely garden gate, at dawn

Oh my cat, my cat forgive me
That I live when you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on

Phantom meowing at the window
Phantom jingling by the door
Empty beds and empty baskets
Where my cat will sleep no more
Oh my cat my cat, don’t ask me
What your scratching post was for
Empty beds and empty baskets
Where my cat will sleep no more

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Curtain Raised!

It's fair to say that our first visit to innovative Leeds eaterie The Man Behind the Curtain left us mightily impressed. So much so that I was a little concerned that our second sampling of chef Michael O'Hare's wonderful creations might not live up to it. I needn't have worried. Pretty much all the elements which made our first meal so memorable remained, and indeed in some cases were improved upon; and the new additions to O'Hare's tasting menu meant that this second journey into a gastronomic wonderland was even more enjoyable than the previous one.

As before we chose the wine flight to accompany the meal and, again as before, the langoustine tartare kicked things off, this time joined by tiny doughnuts of foie gras and what I think was freeze-dried raspberry. Next up, spongy Wagyu beef was served with potato starch and crispy sheets of dripping.

Hake throat and tripe might not sound appealing, but O'Hare's treatment of it made it so, smothering it as he did in Caribbean-inspired sauce and slivers of chilli which left a pleasant warmth lingering until the next course. And what a course it was. It looked like segments of red chocolate Easter Egg with a jelly and fondant eye. However, the 'chocolate' was a chilli-painted wafer-thin potato slice while the eye was bilberry jelly and a runny-fried quail's egg. All this sat atop a delightful mound of salty-sweet crab meat.

Crab

Next up was the return of an old favourite - O'Hare's signature dish 'Emancipation.' In this incarnation, the flaky cod, dashi sauce and potato shards were topped with a trio of bronze-finished prawns. Naturally. It tasted every bit as good as before though, and only the spikiness of the bowl stopped me sticking my face in and licking it clean.

'Emancipation'

The first of the meat courses saw foie gras foam-covered hunks of braised ox cheek presented with a trio of dipping sauces: beef, truffle and garlic spinach. The second was another throwback to one of our previous visit's standout dishes - Iberico pork, edible 'cinders' and runny egg yolk. Alas, the sweetbread course from last time was nowhere to be seen, but one can't have everything.

Pork

Dessert was once again the chocolate foil and mousse with puffed potato and potato custard. Indeed, this had stuck in the mind so much from before that I ended up usurping the waiter before he could announce it! Petit-fours (including the brilliantly named 'A bit like Daim Bar put probably not as good' were served up with the coffee, and we finished our night with a Japanese whisky recommended by the excellent sommelier.

The paired wines were varied and all delicious, though amazingly this time the Spanish Vermouth was actually bettered by some plum Sake. Service was prompt, friendly and efficient and the whole experience once again was pretty much faultless. I'd recommend The Man Behind the Curtain to anyone and I'd certainly visit again, as I'd just love to see what Michael O'Hare and his team can come up with next.