The Thorngrove Table

Well Fed Network Update

Article of mine published today in The Paper Palate on Well Fed Network: 

Review: "Olive" Feb 2006 issue

Foody Saturday, "The Medieval Kitchen" and Orange Omelettes for Harlots & Ruffians

Saturday before last was a lovely foody day - Sam and Fred of Becks and Posh were passing through London and stopped off for a drink with us London Food Bloggers (at various times: myself, Andrew of Spittoon, Celia of English Patis, Jeanne of Cook sister!, Jenny of Baking for Britain, Johanna of The Passionate Cook, Keiko of Nordjus and MonkeyGland of Jamfaced).

We descended into the cellars of the oldest wine bar in London - Gordon's Wine Bar, which was established in 1890, and crammed onto a couple of tables. The cellars are wonderfully atmospheric - constructed of dimly lit, smoke-stained brick, arched like Roman aquaducts. However they aren't for the claustrophic - or the tall! The wine was good, the food strictly average (I was prewarned and bought sushi from the Wasabi shop across the road, which I proceeded to surreptitiously eat from under the table) and the staff as surly and disinterested as I remember from my previous visit. Fortunately the company more than made up for their lack of charm with their own, and a good time was had by all. Sam very kindly brought us all a little gift from the San Francisco chocolatier, Michael Recchiuti, a box containing a couple of chocolates including his signature 'burnt caramel' chocolate. I haven't tried mine yet but shall report back when I do (although Jenny has already commented).

Afterwards Jeanne and Andrew and I went up to have a quick look at the Food Lovers' Fair being held at Covent Garden. The market was small but of a very high standard, being run by Henrietta Green, one of the driving forces behind the promotion of independant producers in England. We nibbled our way through dozens of samples and I left with 12 miniature fruit liquers (including such exciting choices as quince, greengage, and herb), a bottle of elderberry wine (my favorite fruit wine), a fist-large bulb of smoked garlic, another just as big of Wight garlic, and some lovely fresh little bobbles of black pudding.

Sadly I forgot to take my camera, but you can always check out Andrew's post and Sam's post of the get-together.

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Sam made me realise I've been remarkably remiss in pimping promoting medieval cuisine recently, so I thought I might write a little about various books which are available.

My first recommendation is my top favorite 'Introduction to Medieval Cuisine 101' book: "The Medieval Kitchen: Recipes from France and Italy" by Odile Redon et al.

Originally written in French, this isn't a cookbook for culinary beginners - you need to have a reasonable grasp of cooking before you can get any real use out of the recipes. However it also stands on its own as a very thorough historical introduction to medieval cuisine - the methods, ingredients, environment and theory. It dispels some of those exceedingly stupid medieval food myths propogated by the Victorians (i.e. they used lots of spices, ate rotten meat, never ate vegetables, never cooked with salt, etc) and overall the writing is well-thought out, witty and fascinating stuff, with detailed referencing - a bonus for those of us who like bibliographies.

I've found the book's redactions (recipe recreations) to be well reasoned on the whole (disregarding minor quibbles) and if, like me, you prefer to do your own redactions, each recipe is given in the original language and a translation. The recipes also have an interesting and often amusing section about each one, as well as explanations of why the authors used certain items, forming a continuous tutorial on medieval food throughout the book.

Here's an example of the snippet paired with the redaction for "Orange Omelette for Harlots and Ruffians", which is found in the cookbook of Johannes Bockenheim, cook to Pope Martin V [1368 - 1431]:

"...We cannot see why this omelette, which contains no meat and no seasoning other than sugar, should be particularly well suited to debauchees. Surely, it is flesh (further fired by spices) that enflames the flesh. This omelette can be safely tasted without running the risk of moral turpitude.

Since medieval oranges were bitter, we suggest a blend of oranges and lemons. The sugar and the acidity of the juice prevents the eggs from completely setting, so this is more of a custardy cream that makes an unusual and very pleasant dessert."

Having teased you with that snippet, here are the original text, the translation, the book's redaction and my own version:

Recipe #122: Orange Omelette for Harlots and Ruffians
from "Le 'Registre de Cuisine' de Jean de Bockenheim", originally published in "Le Moyen Age à table" by Bruno Laurioux, Paris, Adam Biro, 1989.

Sic fac fritatem de pomeranciis
Recipe ova percussa, cum pomeranciis ad libitum tuum, et extrahe inde sucum, et mitte ad illa ova cum zucaro; post recipe oleum olive, bel segimine, et faac califieri in patella, et mitte illa ova intus. Et erit pro ruffianis et leccatricibus.

Translation: How to make an orange omelette. Take eggs and break them, with oranges, as many as you like; squeeze their juice and add to it the eggs with sugar; then take olive oil or fat, and heat it in the pan and add the eggs. This was for ruffians and brazen harlots.

Redaction:
6 eggs
2 oranges
1 lemon
2 Tb sugar
2 Tb olive oil
salt

Juice the oranges and the lemon. Beat the eggs, add the juice, the sugar, and salt to taste , and cook the omelett in olive oil. Serve warm.

My redaction:
4 eggs
1 Seville orange
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp sugar or to taste
1 Tb butter
salt

This should be made the same way as above, however it's for two people rather than four.

My version varies for a couple of reasons. Whilst this can be made into a very sweet dish with the use of sweet oranges and lots of sugar, even bearing in mind the sourness of medieval oranges, the recipe doesn't specify it as a dessert. I've made it both ways, and whilst the dessert version is very yummy, I prefer to make it as a savoury custard - revelling in the intensity of the orange taste, which is conveyed beautifully by the eggs.

Seville oranges are probably the closest to medieval oranges in terms of sourness and so are the best choice if you can find them. Aside from its effect of retarding the setting of the egg in this recipe, sugar was used during this time period as a flavor enhancer - in much the same way as MSG is nowadays - more often than as a sweetener. It was expensive, so would not have been readily available in the large amounts employed during the Renaissance and later. Lastly, I prefer omelettes fried in fat (butter) to olive oil, but of course everyone's tastes vary. Either way, it's a quick, easy and tasty dish.

---

Bibliography:
REDON, Odile; SABBAN, Françoise; SERVENTI, Silvano and English translation by SCHNEIDER, Edward. The Medieval Kitchen: Recipes from France and Italy
June 1998, University of Chicago Press, ISBN: 0226706842 Hardback
April 2000, University of Chicago Press, ISBN: 0226706850 Paperback

St.John Restaurant, Smithfield

"Nose to tail eating" is the motto of St.John Restaurant in Smithfield. It's been one of the items on my list of "Famous foodie places to eat in London" for ages that I just hadn't got around to going to, so I was very happy to finally cross it off. And whilst I didn't eat either nose or tail, some of our menu choices came close in terms of items usually spurned by modern-day sensibilities.

Myself, Andrew of Spittoon, Jenny of Pertelote, Johanna of The Passionate Cook, Tim of Fire and Knives and Todd of Londonchef were all there to raise a few glasses and welcome Pim of Chez Pim to London town.

L-to-R: Jenny, Andrew, Pim & Johanna

The evening got off on a good note - a dry, fruity Saumur Blanc (2002) Domaine des Champs Fleuris 'Cuvee Damoiselles' that I very much liked and would cheerfully order again (a rare event with myself and white wines), followed by a highly drinkable red whose name I unfortunately forget. As we all wanted to eat but only had a table reserved for four (sadly non-negotiable as the restaurant was full), we ordered some of the bar food for those who had to leave early.

This included the dish I've been dying for ages to try - St.John's famous Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad. Which was divine. The marrow on toast (with a light dusting of salt, as recommended by Tim) was smooth, tasty and had the most glorious gelatinous texture, and the crunchy greenery was a good (although as Andrew says, a little overpowering) complement. We also tried the Welsh Rarebit (spicy and very moreish), Anchovy Paste on Toast (or Gentleman's Relish as it's also known) and a dish most of us had never had - Eccles Cake with Lancashire Cheese. It sounds like an odd combination - fruitmince-stuffed pastries with crumbly English cheese - but it was another match made in heaven. All of St.John's baked goods are wonderful and their Lancashire was softly crumbly and well-flavored. I'd suspect their supplier was Neals Yard Dairy and I might just have to go investigate their Lancashire offerings sometime soon. . .

Amidst foodie talk and gossip, I discovered Tim was not only writing a book about restoring the kitchen in his Georgian house (though to modern standards!) he also runs the fortnightly email newsletter, Fire and Knives, as part of his campaign to become a professional food writer. Reading the archives, I've no doubt he will achieve that goal, so run over to his website and sign up - you won't regret it.

Before leaving the bar I also bought a loaf of the St.John Bakery's brown sourdough, and a couple of Bakewell Tarts, lured by the promise of gooseberry jam in the latter. As expected, both were delicious.

L-to-R: 1. Marrow & Parsley Salad. 2. Welsh Rarebit.
L-to-R: 1. Eccles Cake & Lancashire Cheese remains. 2. Todd & Jenny (sorry, no photos of Tim).

Upstairs we decided to share the meal between us and settled on four entrées, three mains and a couple of sides. The first entrée was Cuttlefish and Leeks, which ended up in front of me. The cuttlefish (squid) was squares of delightful tenderness and the leeks were buttery soft, making an enjoyable (though I must admit, not particularly memorable) dish. A large Crab ended up in front of Pim, and we all had great fun dissecting it and hooking out the last little scraps of delicious white and brown flesh. At this point we opened a bottle of Saint Chinian 'Elise' (2001) Chateau la Dournie, as recommended by Gavin, our waiter, which went down very easily.

Razor Clams were another first-time-try, with one ordered for each of us. Used as I am to much smaller shellfish, the length of the clam's muscles seemed just plain alien, but they proved to be delicious and a lot sweeter than I expected. The Turnham Green fishshop stocks these every so often and I'm definitely going to try them again. Veal Tongue salad was our last entrée. I've always liked tongue (much to my twin's disgust) and this particular dish was the Rolls Royce of tongue - pink in the middle, tender the whole way through, and tasting nothing like most people imagine it to be like (although I personally blame that on poor quality meat, rather than the cut). I shall have to bring my friends here just to convert them to delights of tongue.

I was delighted to find Mutton & Swedes on the menu, as it's difficult to find anything other than lamb here. Good mutton has a lot more punch to it's taste than lamb and I rather miss it from my diet. Swede, one of my favorite root vegetables, is never amiss on my plate but the star of the dish was definitely the mutton, which was beautifully cooked to a melt-in-your-mouth consistency. The Mallard was also big on flavour, with a pleasantly gamey taste and excellent balance; neither too dry, moist or greasy, but just right (never easy with duck). Jenny was very keen on ordering the dish of Snails, Sausages & Lentils as our last choice of main, and judging from the speed with which it disappeared, we all agreed it was an excellent decision.

The conversation ranged as far and wide as the dishes and was just as interesting - although it feels like everyone but me has started a new career in the food world!

By the end of the mains we were all groaning, but decided to perservere and order a dessert between us - the Steamed Treacle Sponge with custard. As aforementioned, St.John's baked goods are fantastic, and this was no exception - hot, light and fruity, and the eptitome of what good traditional English cooking should taste like.

Overall I was extremely impressed with not just the wine and food at St.John, but also the staff, who were friendly, helpful and knowledgeable, and the service, which was at a good pace for such a full night. If you don't like crowded dining rooms you might have a problem as the tables are all squashed together as close as possible, but other than that I highly recommend the restaurant. Certainly I'll be visiting again.

>L-to-R: 1. Cuttlefish & Leeks. 2. Crab. 3. Veal Tongue.
L-toR: 1. Mutton & Swedes; Snails, Sausage & Lentils; Greens & Potatoes; Mallard. 2. Treacle Pudding. 3. View of the kitchen.

Review: Navarro's

Navarro's Tapas Restaurant
67 Charlotte Street, London, W1T 4PH. 020 7637 7713.
Tube: Goodge St

Upon recommendation of a foodie friend I went for one of my regular "Girls' Night Out" dinners at Navarro's the day before yesterday. It was a rather reduced group (actually there were only two of us!), but both Meesha and I agreed it was a wonderful evening, and definitely somewhere we're going to return to, dragging our other female friends with us.

Oddly enough, almost the entire top floor was "Girls' Night Out" - a single romantic couple being seeded amongst the tables of two, three and four all-female groups. Meesha and I were pondering this phenomena, and came to the conclusion tapas is so popular with women as we like to pick at things during dinner, whereas men prefer to sit down to a slab of meat and hearty side of potatoes. A hugely-generalized theory I realise, but one I'm convinced holds a kernal of truth to it!

The decor at Navarro's is charming, with walls covered to midway with Spanish tiles and dark, decorative wrought ironwork lining the rooms. Tables and chairs are of dark wood with tile insets, matching the flooring. Although the tables are quite close and it got rather noisy later in the evening (we arrived at 7 and left a couple of hours later), it was a sociable rather than drunken noisiness. The bathrooms had a good standard of decorating and cleanliness.

The Spanish staff were all very pleasant and service was at a good pace - not too fast and not too slow. The first waitress had a little trouble with her English vs. my Kiwi accent as I was waiting for Meesha, Queen of the Late Arrival (though she was only 7 minutes tardy so it didn't really count at all), and my normal aperitif of Campari & Soda had to be surrendered to the more comprehensible choice of a Still Water.

To drink with dinner we each had a glass of the house Rioja, Navahas Tinto 2003/4. Meesha liked this immediately, but I wasn't as enthused. However I found once I'd let it breathe for a few minutes it improved immensely. The menu blurb describes it as "Dark plummy ruby, this is dry but exceptionally fruity with distinctively cherry-like fruit and overtones of warm vanilla oak" and that seems a fair enough description.

On to the meal! Our waitress suggested we order 2 - 3 tapas each, so following her suggestion we ordered:

BOMBAS DE PATATAS Y VERDURAS (£3.75)
A blend of creamed potatoes, vegetables and herbs, deep-fried and topped with alioli and pimenton.
These came as two little mounds on the plate, resembling nothing so much as a pair of Page 3 Girl breasts! Schoolboy humour aside, they were nicely cooked, and well - but not over - flavoured. I think I prefer them to the more usual order of fried potatoes in spicy tomato and chilli sauce.

ENSALADA DE NARANJA Y AGUACATE AL VINAGRE DE JEREZ (£3.95)
Juicy Seville oranges and avocado salad dressed with olive oil and vintage sherry vinegar.
Delicious! An excellent combination I will be using for my own home salads.

BOQUERONES EN VINAGRE (£3.95)
Fresh anchovies, marinated with garlic and vinegar, dressed with olive oil.
I just love this dish and always order it. Due to my fish intolerence I can only ever eat a couple of anchovies, but that's enough. I've persuaded several friends (whose initial reaction seems to always be to wrinkle their nose in disgust) to try them and like them. Navarro's anchovies were plump, exhibited the yielding sponginess of the obviously fresh, and mouthwateringly tasty. Meesha is now a convert too.

CHORIZO PICANTE AL COÑAC (£4.15)
Spicy Spanish sausage flambéed with brandy.
Another dish it's hard not to order. Unfortunately this was the only dud of the evening. Although the chorizo had the usual lovely piquancy, it was too thinly cut and overcooked - burnt in places. The tough texture ruined it. But as every other tapas was excellent, I'm quite happy to forgive them screwing this one up.

POLLO CON CHOCOLATE (£4.95)
Fillets of chicken breast, cooked with vegetables, spices, brandy and chocolate.
Meesha practically had a mouthgasm when she tasted this dish - which was rather amusing as she'd felt dubious about ordering it. I'd eaten other Spanish and Mexican savoury dishes with chocolate in them however, so I was expecting it to be good and I wasn't disappointed. The chicken breasts (there were two of them) were moistly tender and flavoursome, and the sauce was light, smooth and exquisitely balanced in flavour between the chocolate, spices and brandy. Definitely the star of the evening.

PULPO A LA GALLEGA (£5.95)
Galician style octopus served hot on a wooden platter with sliced boiled potatoes, liberally sprinkled with pimenton, sea salt and olive oil.
This ran a close second for place as 'best tapas'. The rounds of octopus were absolutely perfectly cooked to a melt-in-your-mouth texture, and the light dressing bought their taste out beautifully. Sadly this didn't get justice done to it as it was brought out later than the other dishes and we were too full to finish it off.

After all this we both felt stuffed. Next time, five dishes between two people is definitely the maximum. Dessert - although tempting-sounding - just didn't get a look in, and we rounded the evening off with a couple of cups of good coffee.

The bill for the two of us, including extras of olives, bread, two glasses of wine, a bottle of water and two coffees, and also including 10% service charge, came to a very respectable £45.00. Not just tasty, but good value also. In summary, I was very impressed with the food, service, cost and atmosphere of Navarro's and I recommend this as being an excellent restaurant to visit when next you're in London and feel in the mood for Spanish tapas.

NB: This is a very popular restaurant, so be sure to book. I booked the day before and they only had tables left for couples.

Reflections on Nobu

My twin sister is coming over to the UK mid-September, happily in time for us to share our birthday. We always go to a nice restaurant to celebrate - previous scenes of the crime being Harrod's Oyster Bar, The Ritz, Fifth Floor at Harvey Nick's and Simpsons at the Savoy.

This time I'd considered taking her to the newly opened Nobu Berkeley, as we both enjoy Japanese food. I love the Nobu cookbooks and have learnt a lot from them, however some of the reviews for other Nobu restaurants on the London Eating site had me wondering. A review in this morning's Metro newspaper has put final paid to that idea however. The phrase "damned with faint praise" springs to mind. Highlights (or rather, lowlights) of the review are as follows:

"Is this the most pointless review I will ever write? There is nothing any reviewer might say that will have the slightest impact on the behemoth that is Nobu."

"Nothing was bad, but nothing was standout either. Take the [Nobu signature dish] yellowtail [sashimi with jalapeno and tempura rock shrimp], for instance. It had the vaguely petrified air of fish that hadn't been freshly cut and was overwhelmed into redundancy by the pungency of its accompaniments. Or the shrimp: drop-dead accurate cooking time is needed for the marriage of crispy batter and moist, just-cooked crustacean. This wasn't it. The shrimp was fine; the batter soggy."

"Wagyu beef, that foie gras of the bovine world (£26 for a serving the size of a condom wrapper) had been cooked medium, [Eeeeek!!!] a tragic waste..."

"Everything about it, from the menu and the 'irashaimase!' bellowed by the staff on your arrival, to the 'have you eaten at Nobu before?' from your breathlessly excited waiter is formulaic."

and finally, my favorite quote:

"...it's actually just a posh chain, a TGI Friday's for the platinum-carded."

Ouch. No, no Nobu for us then.

Restaurant Review: Lou Pescadou

My sister has been promising me the photos she took of this meal. So far, no dice, so I am posting my review sans illumination.

Lou Pescadou 
241 Old Brompton Road, London, SW5 9HP
Tel: 0871 075 7800

My older sister Alex took me here on the recommendation of a friend, who assured her it was one of the best French restaurants in London. The friend’s reasoning being that all the French rugby teams brought their mothers and special dates here. A somewhat questionable reason for a food recommendation I thought, but I was interested to find out whether it would live up to French maternal approval.

The restaurant itself is quite long and narrow. ‘Cosy’ is the probably the most apt description. Rugby players’ sensitivities notwithstanding, it wasn’t to my mind the ideal place for a romantic tryst, as the meal was interrupted every now and then by other people’s conversation (most notably the obnoxious American businessman two tables away). It was innocuously decorated, the only memorable feature being the wide variety of seascapes and sailing pictures, which ranged in quality from the insipid to the very fine.

The small bar downstairs was a shrine to rugby, walls completely covered with rugby and rugby league photos and mementos. Unlike most similar sports bars however, they were all clean and bright and tidy, and it actually looked quite good.

The bathrooms were excellent – beautifully painted and decorated, spotless and well maintained, with real towel hand-cloths for drying your hands. That may seem an odd thing to consider important but I intensely dislike restaurants whose bathrooms are old, rundown, badly painted or poorly maintained. Not just because they spoil your impression of the place and put a bad spot in your evening, but if the management and staff of a restaurant are unconcerned about the upkeep and hygiene of their bathrooms, it makes me wonder about their kitchens. The bathroom at Lou Pescadou was one of the nicest I’ve been in for a long while.

The wait staff were pleasant in a clearly disinterested manner, but very good about topping up our glasses and quickly clearing plates away. The maitre d’ was attentive – maybe a little too attentive, but then men tend to be that way around my sister! I found him a bit too over-familiar however.

***

We chose our table and were offered a small dish of shrimps and another of olives as nibbles (you couldn’t really call it an amuse bouche). The shrimps were fun; pulling the heads and tails off and popping them into your mouth for a little mouthful of sweet and salty flesh surrounded by the little crisp carapace. Quite delicious. The olives didn’t get a look in. I was pleased to note that the menu declared all the fish were wild caught.

As an entrée I ordered the Fruits de Mer Mini Plateau. It came with 2 langoustine, 4 oysters, 6 whelks, about 18 winkles, and a couple dozen more of the shrimps, all presented on a bed of kelp. Before starting I was amused by the waitress laying my place setting with every single piece of fish cutlery she could find – picks, forks, fish knife, etc including a couple I clearly didn’t need. A crab-claw cracker? For langoustine?

If I were allowed to only ever eat one type of bivalve mollusc again I would choose scallops – but oysters come a close second. This night’s oysters, which according to the waitress were the Fine de Claire variety, were an undiluted pleasure. Light and fresh, with a taste like a mouthful of mild clean seawater, they exemplified everything wonderful about raw oysters.

The langoustine (of which I only got one!) were tender and flavoursome and I could have cheerfully eaten a couple more. Regarding the whelks I’m still a little ambivalent. I’d never tried them before and I liked the flavour - quite strong and somewhat sweet and reminding me slightly of scallops - but I didn’t particularly care for their consistency, which was quite compact. Texture-wise they weren’t tough, but they weren’t particularly tender either. I’d try them again however, just to see.

The winkles, another first time try, won me as a convert however. My sister gave up in exasperation after coaxing a couple of them out of their shells, saying the half mouthful wasn’t worth the effort, but I thought they were delightful. I liked their freshness, taste and texture.

My sister ordered the Grilled Baby Squid, which were perfectly cooked, smelt divine and had a rich BBQ taste to them – gorgeous. They looked naked on the plate however, as that was all you got. No garnishing whatsover!

The Tartare Sauce was a big disappointment. Unremarkable, insipid-tasting and with a rather solid plasticy texture. If it wasn’t straight out of a jar, I'm a monkey's uncle.

Sadly I have a seafood intolerance. I can’t eat cooked fish; even the smell of cooking fish makes me nauseous (yes, I do usually avoid seafood restaurants like the plague, but I didn’t realise Lou Pescadou was one before we arrived). I can however eat small amounts of raw fish or molluscs, crustaceans and cephalopods, all of which I adore (in fact, more than once I’ve overdone it, to my subsequent discomfort). One seafood entrée is the limit to what I can consume and I’m now old and wise enough to stick to that limit (or rather, no longer quite so young and stupid). So as my main I ordered the Filet Steak, cooked blue - or to paraphrase my sister, “Just find a cow and smack it on the rump as it passes through the kitchen”.

This arrived as a large 5-inch round, about 1-½ inches thick, with strands of onion on top that were fried to a melt-in-your-mouth consistency. The filet itself was good, very good in fact. Not fantastic, but cooked well (or rather, cooked correctly), tender and very tasty; a beautiful piece of high quality meat. I couldn't eat all of it – and pointers for the staff for happily doing so when Alex asked them to doggybag it for me.

Alex ordered the Lobster with Asparagus Spears. She didn’t let me try the lobster (perhaps wisely!) but gave me one of the asparagus spears. There were only a half dozen of these and they were fanned out under the lobster in an (rather futile) attempt to make it look generous. I wasn’t impressed by their stinginess. The asparagus was barely adequate. It was one of the strong tasting, big varieties, but I thought it was borderline age-wise, too compactly textured and very slightly woody. I wouldn’t have served it at one of my dinner parties. Alex thought the lobster was lovely however.

Accompanying our mains were a dish of French String Fries (Pommes Frites if you want to be pedantic) and plain cooked Spinach. The spinach was absolutely dreadful. Lukewarm, overcooked, average quality vegetation and really, just plain bad. I've consumed better spinach at youth camp. I ate one mouthful and later another just to be sure my first impression was correct, but that was all I could stand. The fries were pleasant enough. But I must say I thought as the accompaniment to the meats it was abysmal and totally let the meal down. Very unimpressive.

The dessert menu was traditional but not very exciting. Alex chose a float of Meringue on French custard, topped with caramel sauce. The meringue was light, with little sweetness, and melded nicely with the rich toasted-sugar taste of the sauce and the slightly bland sweetness of the custard. Altogether, a nicely balanced and delicious dessert.

My choice was two different icecreams – Violet and Raspberry & Red Wine. Oh, I so want a Gaggia ice cream maker so I can spend a weekend making things like this! I love violets as a food (sugared violets – mmmm) and this ice cream was no exception. Delicately flavoured and beautifully coloured, sadly it suffered from slight crystallisation so the texture was slightly gritty. All right for a granité - not acceptable in a glacé, and that rather tarnished it for me. The Raspberry & Red Wine ice cream had a sublime texture however. I was very impressed with it. It melted in my mouth like a snowflake. And the flavor was boldly raspberry with a tartness that harmonized very pleasingly with the sweetness of the violet ice cream. 

We topped the evening off with a couple of coffees and a glass of Calvados for myself.

To drink with dinner we ordered a bottle of Pouilly-Fumé Vieilles Vignes 'Cuvée d'Eve' 2001, Jean-Claude Dagueneau, which I enjoyed. It was a clear tasting, slightly grassy wine. We finished dinner off with some coffees and a glass of Calvados for myself.

***

So, what did I think overall? It was a great night out with my sister, but would I visit Lou Pescadou again?

Probably not.

The desserts were good. The freshness and high quality of the seafood and meat was unmistakable, and if you’re of a primarily carnivorous nature (i.e. a male rugby player obviously!) then this is the place for you. However, as someone who likes food in general I was disappointed. For the prices charged, I expected a great deal more professionalism directed towards the entire meal, not just the meats. The experience was let down immensely by the restaurant’s attitude to side dishes and details, such as garnishing. It was rather like watching a ballet troupe who clothe their prima ballerinas in immaculate costumes and give them the limelight, but who dress the corp d’ballet in cheap, worn rags and get them to wave their arms around in the background. Pitiful to see.

In conclusion, dinner here is overpriced for what you get. However, you could definitely tempt me to return if it was for lunch of a glass of bubbly and a platter of oysters.

***

The bill for the two of us (minus alcohol) came to about £85 including 12.5% service charge.