Going With My Gut

FedbyTang Hongkong Supperclub v. Seafood: Flawless Victory

Above: The turbo power dish - Stir fried crab with sticky rice. If the awesomeness of this dish doesn't make you fall over backwards before eating it, the enormity of it will afterwards.

 

Were you a teenager in the 90s? Remember that arcade game Mortal Kombat? This supperclub dinner was like that.

Cherry of FedbyTang Hongkong Supperclub, versus Creatures of the Deep.

And in the notoriously little-room-for-error genre that is Chinese-style seafood, Cherry scored a FLAWLESS VICTORY.

 

Above: Battle gear.

 

Cherry was cooking up a seafood dinner this particular evening partly because there was a pescetarian friend at the table who she'd been meaning to host for ages. But it's hard for a Chinese person to resist pork completely. So to warm up, we had deep fried tofu with bits of crispy pig skin. Who says tofu has to be virtuous, eh?

 

 

Prawn toast is a popular starter snack at Cantonese takeaways. This evening Cherry served it old school Hong Kong style, the way she ate it growing up. Prawn paste slathered on white toast, coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried. And garnished with a whole deep fried prawn head. This could totally work as a bar snack at St John or Wright Brothers or Elliots Cafe, or The Clove Club, whenever it is they catch on. A girl can hope.

 

 

Succulent steamed scallops, dressed in garlic, soya sauce, sesame oil and coriander. An indulgent favourite in Chinese seafood banquet halls. Much more affordable here in London if you use local scallops. Bliss inducing!

 

 

Spicy stir fried razor clams. Another luxury dish in Asia, again much more afforable here if you use UK razors. Half a minute too long on the fire and these can make you feel like you're chewing on a rubber hose. Cherry timed her frying time perfectly. I heard from our lovely front of house Phoebe later that Cherry had different timers on the go in the kitchen throughout the evening, to keep her bang on time. Stressful (I heard Cherry calling out to Phoebe to hustle out of the dining room a few times this evening to help out in the kitchen) but what a great result!

 

 

Steamed seabass with soya sauce and sesame oil, garnished with ginger slivers and spring onion. Again, so little room for error on this dish. The fish must be very fresh and you have to judge the steaming time according to the weight of the fish. I still don't have the guts to make this dish for a dinner party. Cherry had the guts. And the glory.

 

 

Stir fried squid with snow pea and carrots. I think just a touch more salt would have really lifted this dish but the textures were bang on. Bouncy and crunchy right where they needed to be.

 

 

And now we come to that bit in the battle where your power bar is fully charged, and it's time to unleash your secret-combi-attack.

Behold! Cherry's stir fried crab, sat upon glutinous rice cooked in sweet-savoury crab stock. KNOCKOUT! Apologies to my dining companions - pretty sure I scarfed an unfair share of this magnificent dish.

 

 

And finally a glee-inducing dessert. The result of Cherry's recent waffle iron acquisition. A popular streetsnack from growing up in Hong Kong, she said. For me it brought back many happy memories as twentysomething gallavanting around New York City. There was just such an egg waffle vendor, unfailingly on Canal St just before you headed south into the guts of New York's Chinatown. The warm scent of the sweet eggy liquidy mix taking shape on the hot irons never failed to lift my mood, and it served as the perfect nightcap now.

 

 

All this for an unbelieveable £30! Whenever it is that Cherry decides to do another seafood banquet, I can't recommend it enough that you go. Meanwhile, Cherry's next supperclub is an Indian-Chinese collaboration with Asma of Darjeeling Express on 11 May 2013. Check out their double-trouble menu, and grab the last few seats!

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and provide marketing and ticketing services for both FedbyTang and Darjeeling Express. I attended this event as a paying customer. Click on the logo below to see upcoming events by FedbyTang.

London: A Very Stylish Table for 10 Vietnamese Supperclub

 

 

Above: Aromatic duck noodle soup ala Table for 10 Vietnamese Supperclub. Seconds absolutely not necessary, but see if you can resist.

 

Ah, quiet long weekends. Perfect for catching up on writing. For example, this long overdue post on Table for 10 Vietnamese supperclub in London's trendy Whitechapel, which I had the privilege of visiting as an invited guest late last year. Table for 10, cheffed by Vietnamese-Australian Damon and hosted by local MJ, jumps instantly onto my favourite supperclubs list, for incorporating modernity and style into the presentation of their dishes, without sacrificing any boldness and depth of flavours.

Upon entering you're likely to be presented with a welcome house cocktail by MJ. It will likely have Asian influences, and be dangerously delicious and drinkable, especially if the guys are feeling generous. Which is often, so other guests tell me. You have been warned!

 

 

The evening opened with a very exotic canape of smoked trout with a sweet-savoury chilli jam spiked with mashed up dried shrimp, salmon caviar, slivers of dried and candied orange peel, served on a large betel leaf. Utterly authentically Asian in the way it harmonises sweet, salty, sour, spicy and a tinge of bitterness. Utterly fresh and modern in plating. Good luck trying to find something like this on Kingsland Road. While eating this I hear squabbling at the other table over who gets to keep Chef Damon's leftover stash of chilli jam. Regulars, no doubt.

 

 

Our second starter: crispy moist fried chicken thigh bites, with a spicy mayo dip. Chef Damon and I discovered later that we have dirty fried chicken as a mutual secret shame. I'm very pleased Damon's found a way to use it, own it and elevate the genre (yes I consider fried chicken a genre, as trendy London street food traders are now proving) for his guests. I spotted several fellow diners watching me and my portion of fried chicken like vultures while I shot the photograph below. Luckily I am not of dainty build...

 

 

An in-between course: Bo la lot, Vietnamese-style dolmas, where aromatic minced beef is rolled up in betel leaves and then fried or charcoal-grilled. Served here with thick rice noodles, pickles and fresh herbs. Gorgeous in every way.

In case you're interested in making these at home, here's a bo la lot recipe from the wildly popular City Caphe in Bank.

 

 

And to send me off waddling home, a giant bowl of fragrant, earthy, very comforting duck noodle soup. Given the relatively petite prettiness of every dish up to dine one, I was well pleased at this less pretty, much more butch and hearty main. Having grown up in Singapore I'd be happy to eat this in the midst of a muggy tropical heatwave, but this will no doubt be a hit dish during London's loooooooong winter months.

Did I mention there were seconds? Not at all necessary. But I couldn't say no to that soup!

 

 

Dessert was vanilla ice-cream with lychee cream and chocolate sauce. Not especially photogenic, and personally I felt the chocolate overpowered the lychee flavour. Desserts have never been my strong point when I host dinners, and I get the sense that Damon is still developing his dessert repertoire as well. But other than that I thought the dinner was stellar, and I'd be happy to pay £30 (their usual supperclub price) to come back as a paying guest with friends.

Many thanks to Damon and MJ for hosting. They have big plans ahead, but are using the meanwhile to test and grow their arsenal of food and cocktail recipes. So watch this space. Better yet, secure a space for yourself, here. Their suppers regularly book out 2 months in advance, so keep an eagle eye on them on our Edible Experiences newsletter alerts!

 

Have you been to Table for 10? What were your favourite dishes?

 

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, which provides event ticketing services for Table for 10. I attended this event as a guest of Table for 10.

Click on the logo below to view upcoming events for Table for 10 Vietnamese Supperclub.

London's Backdoor Kitchen Italian Supperclub Pops Up in Singapore

Above: Welcome to Singapore, Backdoor Kitchen!

 

Prologue on The Backdoor Kitchen:

I've had the pleasure of dining at The Backdoor Kitchen Italian Supperclub several times in London now, as well as working with them through our food startup Edible Experiences. I'm delighted to say that as we "grew up" in London's food scene together, Chef Roberto and I also became friends. I love it that every time I think I have Italian food all figured out, he throws me a new region's cuisine, a new story about some dish or ingredient's story, some new twist on a classic or familiar dish.

(Backdoor Kitchen on Twitter)

Prologue on Smothering Suppers:

Last year my beautiful and talented sister in law Sarah spent the summer volunteering on a farm in Campagna, Italy, learning how to cook the big cold hearty cuisine of the region from the Mama of the farming family. She hosted a dinner at Edible HQ during her one day transit back in London enroute home to Singapore. I invited Rob to dinner, and since then Sarah and Rob have, I hear, been whizzing emails and recipes back and forth, as Sarah hosted supperclub dinners in her home in Singapore to share what she learned in Italy.

(Smothering Suppers on Twitter)

===

So when the stars aligned, and there was a tiny whiff of an opportunity that Rob and I could overlap for a few days in Singapore, Rob, Sarah and I all jumped at the chance, wrestled it to the ground, and pinned it down by the jagular, to host a Backdoor Kitchen Sunday lunch at Smothering Suppers HQ in Singapore.

If we could grin anymore with glee at how Backdoor Kitchen's debut in Asia turned out, our cheeks would fall off.

And now to the menu.

Antipasti: A gently sweet-sour caponata salad studded with copa, a highly addictive terrine made from pig's head (a perfect accompaniment to shooting the breeze late at night in Rob's kitchen). This dish needs its own song. Something like.... "At the Copa... Copa-caponata...". Sorry Mr Manilow.

 

 

At my request, Rob made his stunning marinated sea bream and chickpea salad.

 

 

Definitely a crowd pleaser with our 16 guests that day. This handsome dude made Sarah's day by telling her that he felt like he had walked into a Wallpaper magazine when he walked into her flat.

 

 

The trickiest dish of the day: Rob's vegetarian inside out (or is that outside in?) twist on cabonara. Here, diced courgettes are mixed in ricotta, creating a base for a raw egg yolk.

 

 

Which is then blanketed with a pasta sheet, to create giant ravioli pillows.

 

 

Mind you, this is Chef Rob in as good a mood as I've ever seen him while prepping.

 

 

A very quick blanche to keep the egg yolk runny...

 

 

... and then a dollop of creamy saffron sauce with more courgettes. Gooey gorgeousness.

 

 

A little breather in between courses for guests to chat, stretch, and get ready for the enslaught of yumminess coming.

 

 

A Backdoor Kitchen classic: Squid ink risotto on a bed on basil cream, topped with caramelised onions, tomatoes and guanciale. Modern Italy on a plate.

 

 

In Singapore a rainy counts as cold weather, which was the perfect setting for Rob's slow cooked pork and sausage stew on savoury polenta.

 

 

And the crowd went wild. (Or at least, WOW.)

 

 

And then fell into a long silence as they chowed down. And chowed down. And chowed down.

 

 

The Italian-coloured remains of the day.

 

 

A sweet finish: Rob's white chocolate and strawberry tiramisu, in tribute to Singapore colours. Uttered one guest, "Omygod I could have just this for lunch".

 

 

Take a bow, Rob and Sarah!

 

 

The relief at the end of a successful service, and the dreading of all the dishwashing to come...

 

 

Epilogue:

After eating his way through Singapore and Kuala Lumpur, Rob is now back in London. You can keep track of his upcoming suppers here. (He's cooking up a wintery Alpine menu this weekend, a few seats left!)

Sarah now works full time as a chef at the much hailed Immigrants gastrobar, studying under Chef Damian D'Silva, one of my favourite and most respected guardians of heritage Singaporean cuisine. Email smotheringsuppers (at) gmail.com to receive alerts about Sarah's upcoming supperclubs.

 

Disclosure:

I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and provide event ticketing services for Backdoor Kitchen. I've attended Backdoor Kitchen events both as a paying guest and as a member of the team.

Click on the logo below to view upcoming events for Backdoor Kitchen.

London Supperclub: Dining on the Darjeeling Express

Above: Chef Asma of Darjeeling Express whirring in action.

 

Chef Asma Khan of Darjeeling Express Indian supperclub is runaway train of deliciousness, and I consider myself very lucky to be part of her exciting edible journey.

When the law PhD graduate is not running her free legal clinic for women, or raising funds for new infrastructure for her childrens' school, or volunteering with with food charities (to the point of fighting their parking tickets incurred while making crucial deliveries, goes one story), she's feeding supperclub guests -- sometimes 30 to 55 at a time -- some of the finest Indian food I've tasted this side of the Bay of Bengal.

Quite a feat for someone who learned how to cook only after she got married. Her kitchen mentor, she told me, is an old blind chef back home in India. Who taught her how to cook recipes which have been in her family for 4 generations with all of her senses.

The result? Have a look at some of her starters, for starters.

Haleem: a traditional Hyderabadi pounded wheat porridge, slow-cooked with shredded mutton and spices, lifted and lightened by a sprinkle of coriander and a squeeze of lime. Its hefty comfort-food appeal makes it a popular dish at break-fast time during the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan. I think of haleem as baby food, if your baby is a sumo wrestler.

 

 

Calcutta-style chicken kaati rolls and momos (Tibetan dumplings). One day, if we're very lucky, we will see a Darjeeling Express food truck selling these kaati rolls for lunch. A girl can hope!

 

 

Expertly fried chicken and samosa and tangy tamarindy potato, a popular street snack in many Indian cities.

 

 

I struggle to photograph curries well. So these photos here really don't do justice to Darjeeling Express's Bengali fish malai curry (left) and prawn curry. And even if I did, how would one capture the spice-mix profile of the curry, so much deeper, more subtle, more complex than your neighbourhood Balti house?

 

 

I also realised after 2 Darjeeling Express events that I have consistently failed to photograph Asma's lamb dishes (evidence below). It's only when I get down to the lovely bones that I smack my forehead and reach for the camera. I blame Asma's blind mentor, who went as far as to hold Asma's hand and teach her how to read the weight and balance of a ladle when lifting slow cooked lamb out of a pot, so that the tender meat doesn't flake and fall off off before it reaches the serving platter.

That's why other cooks' lamb dishes are not as tender, Asma tells me. They fear the pre-platter disintegration and so they don't cook it as long. I suppose the unintended effect is pre-camera inhalation!

 

While Asma demonstrates her culinary prowess with her meat dishes, to me she demonstrates her bigness of heart with her vegetarian dishes. At my debut Darjeeling Express event this past summer I sat next to a vegetarian, who was presented with this special platter below. She was taken aback by the generous spread, and said to Asma "Oh gosh you didn't have to do this, I would have been ok to just eat more of the vegetable dishes already on your menu."

To which Asma replied, "Nonsense, my dear. Our cuisine is so deep, so wide, so varied. Of course we can take care of you."

I didn't have to taste her vegetables to be impressed.

 

 

That said, her paneer with cashews was pretty kickass.

 

 

As is her tender and gently spiced cauliflower. I have deep admiration for anyone who can make cauliflower interesting without adding the obvious and overdone cheese-and-bacon combination to it.

 

 

Many Indian desserts are some rendition of milk-and-so-much-sugar-it-hurts-my-teeth. So I really enjoy Darjeeling Express's fruit chaat - a very lively light fruit salad laced with jaggery (raw brown sugar) and tamarind. Perfect after a typical Darjeeling Express avalanche of rice, breads and proteins.

 

 

After a very successful summer debut at The Supperclub Summit at London's Goethe Institut and our very own Sunday Feasts series, Darjeeling Express is upping the ante this winter. Friends and fans of Asma's food are rallying around her to dream up and execute new exciting events, like Indian food and wine pairing events, and Indian food-themed walking tours followed by a soul-warming supper.

So come aboard the Darjeeling Express, and discover a few new spice routes right here in London.

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and provide event ticketing services for Darjeeling Express. I've attended 1 Darjeeling Express event as Asma's guest and another as a paying guest.

Click on the logo below to view upcoming events for Darjeeling Express.

Lisa the Jamaican Supperhero - Fundraising Supperclub for Action Against Hunger's Love Food Give Food Campaign

Above: Saltfish and ackee, widely regarded as Jamaica's national dish. Lisa served it with fried breadfruit, the perfect foil for the salty chunky dip.

 

I first discovered Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen's cooking when I helped out with service at her supperclub debut back in June. I was so bowled over by the morsels she insisted I try while "on shift" that I couldn't wait to come back as a proper guest, with Babs (Mr Edible Experiences) and friends in tow.

After a hectic summer of foodie events we finally got our chance at the end of September, when Lisa was hosting a Supperhero dinner in aid of internatinal aid agency Action Against Hunger's Love Food Give Food campaign.

The short version of this writeup is that I REALLY REALLY wish I was just shameless enough to ignore Babs's rolling eyes, and bring takeaway boxes with me to buy up Lisa's leftovers.

Next time, eh. And yes. There will definitely be a next time. *CRAVE*.

Others evidently feel the same. Half the table in Lisa's living room in Surrey Quays this evening were repeat guests, still willing to pay, still willing to bring friends, still with a childlike excitement in their eyes.

Lisa opened the evening with Jamaica's national dish: Saltfish and ackee, on a canvas of fried bread fruit.

Then came "festivals" - Jamaican fritters spiked with salt fish and shrimp.

We at the dinner table were keenly aware that this was all a trap. If we failed to pace ourselves with the breadfruit and festivals, we'd suffer during the mains later. But YOU try these starters tell me if you can pace yourself.

 

 

And here they come. Escovitch fish: Succulent fried red sea bream with a spicy, sweet, tangy vinegary dressing that really lifts the dish. A Jamaican rendition of Spanish escabeche / Peruvian ceviche / Persian al-sikbaj - essentially a mild preservation method of fish or meat via sugar and acid.

Whatever takeaway ambitions I may have had for this dish, there was none left to take away!

 

 

Lisa's Jamaican chicken curry, with carrots and "spinners", the little pasta-like tails in the mix. Gorgeous comfort food. This will be massively popular during her winter suppers I imagine.

 

 

The star dish of the evening was ripped to shreds before I could even snap a photo - a big brown slab of jerk pork belly seasoned in Lisa's family-secret jerk marinade, pressure-cooked, then roasted to crisp the skin, and served with a fresh-pineapple laced homemade BBQ sauce. So beautiful, so moving, that one of our fellow guests made a marriage proposal to it. Yes really.

For veggie side dishes we had fried plantain, and a cooling cucumber and mango salad.

And now to desserts! Hominy corn is served as a breakfast porridge in Jamaica. This evening Lisa sexy-ied it up with cinnamon, nutmeg, sultanas and a torched-sugar top. By this time everyone was groaning in their seats from the volume of food consumed, protesting they would manage a spoonful each only. Of course they pushed through to the bottom of the porridge pots anyway.

 

 

These may just look like fritters again, but they are in fact deep fried banana bread balls. Light, fluffy, sweet and caremelly with cooked bananas. My only question is, this is obviously such a genius idea, why hasn't anyone I know done this before?

 

 

Another highlight of the evening that disappeared quickly: Lisa's "Reggae" hot chocolate, made from pure, unprocessed cacao and Lisa's blend of spices. Why have her past guests called it "reggae" hot chocolate? You just have to be there to see and experience it for yourself.

Before we go, I nip into the kitchen to photograph Lisa with her stash of jerk seasoning. Someday she will bottle and sell it. We can only hope.

 

 

Lisa' next supper will be a Jamaican Sunday Feast in Covent Garden. Come curious. Come hungry. Come ready to reggae.

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and manage bookings for Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen Supperclub. There was an advance payment to cover the cost of food, and a cash donation on the day that went to Action Against Hunger. For this event I paid only the charity donation.

Click on the logo below to see Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen supperclub's upcoming events.

Flavours of Spain Supperclub

Above: Ana (left) and Teresa of Flavours of Spain supperclub, talking their guests through their cheese and charcuterie platter.

 

Ana and Teresa run Flavours of Spain, an independent outfit that import fabulous goodies from Spain, with a special focus on Ana's native Galicia - a region on the country's north west coast, famous for its seafood. I first met them at The Stock Mkt on Bermondsey Square this past summer, and have been a regular buyer (it sound better than "addict") of their manchego cheese and quince paste since.

This past July the 2 lovely ladies decided to start a supperclub to showcase their products and Ana's family recipes. Ana grew up around cooks and farmers, she told me in the kitchen. But somehow she found herself working in a telecommunications company for a number of years, before she made the leap and embraced her true passion - food. Ah well, it was the same with Pedro Almodovar and film, I shrug and smile. And aren't we glad he made the leap.

Ana and Teresa very generously had me along as a guest at their supperclub debut. Here, finally, is my long overdue writeup!

We open the summery evening with delicious strawberry mojitos.

 

 

Next, an elegant platter of what you might find at their weekly market stalls - a mixture of cheeses, charcuterie and olives. The little cubes on the middle right are cave-matured Cabrales, a Spanish blue cheese. "Probably Spain's strongest cheese," the ladies said on their little cheeseboard. They weren't kidding. I'll stick with their manchego.

 

 

An absolutely delightful take on gazpacho. That gorgeous hue and hit of sweetness comes from a special secret ingredient - cherries!

 

 

Tortilla - the classic Spanish omelette with potatoes. Personally I'm convinced you have to be Spanish to make a proper tortilla. That is, not have it fall apart into a sorry broken heap just as it transits from pan to plate. (Sigh of shame). Here, Flavours of Spain cleverly cut the tortilla up into tasting cubes, so that you can pace yourself. Because look what comes next...

 

 

Chorizo cooked in Galician Mencia wine. A perfect pairing with the tortilla above.

 

 

Squid in ink, serived with bomba rice from Spain's only existing wooden mill (perhaps Mr Quixote did manage to get all the others). I love squid in its own ink. I could stand to eat about a cauldron full of this.

 

 

Except there was one more hefty dish to go before dessert. A stew of oxtail with pochas beans from Rioja. *Mops sweat from brow*. I look forward to making pots of this in the coming chilly months.

 

 

And now to dessert: A coconut flan, a dessert made primarily of eggs and sugar. Combined with coconut, this is basically what kaya (South East Asian egg and coconut jam) would taste like, much to my delight. At some point I'll need to introduce Ana and Teresa to kaya toast.

Sidenote: At their stall at Brockley Market yesterday I discovered their fuet, little sweet-salty sausages that Ana apparently calls "candy meat" because of the way she snacks on them in front of the TV. I sheepishly confess that I cleaned them out of their last 320g of the stuff at the end of the market day. My excuse was that I was taking them to a party. Except there was already so much food at the party that I thought "Ah well, no sense wasting them here, I'm taking these babies home!" And so here I sit, snacking on candy meat. Promising myself that since they do resemble Chinese wax sausages in flavour, I should really see how they perform as a Chinese-sausage substitute in say, claypot rice. I wonder what other unexpected Spanish products could be used in Asian dishes... any thoughts, readers?

Back on plot: We also had a lemon tart that got consumed before I could get a photo of it!

 

 

A wonderful hearty dinner indeed. Perhaps a wee bit too heavy in total for a warm summer evening, but the mains would all be excellent comfort food in the months now coming. Muchas gracias to Ana and Teresa for having me along.

 

Above: I often picture Ana as a main character in an Almodovar movie. I really hope she takes this as a compliment.

 

Flavour's of Spain's next supper will be on 14 October, as part of Edible Experiences' Sunday Feast series in Covent Garden. The chorizo and flan will make an apperance again (Hurrah!), as will the squid in ink but served differently. They will also be serving one of my favourite Spanish dishes ever - Pulpo ala Gallega. Galician-style Octopus. Gotta get my grubby tentacles some o that!

 

Disclosure: I attended the supperclub above as a guest. I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and manage supperclub bookings for Sunday Feasts on behalf of Flavours of Spain.

Click on the logo below to see and book upcoming events for Flavours of Spain.

Come Join Us for a Sunday Feast

Above: Poster design by Shuhan Lee of Mummy I Can Cook

Ah Sundays. Where I grew up, Sundays were the days to have long leisurely meals with family and friends. To forget weekday foods and their sterile plasticky sheen of convenience and expediency. To instead remember more labour and love-intensive dishes. To distribute such labours of love and culinary obsession onto plates lining a long table. To share stories from the week just passed. To laugh, nod, tut at those stories, and recharge body and soul alike for the week looming ahead.

It warmed my heart to meet in London a whole community of supperclub hosts who instantly recognised that Sunday phenomenon when I described it to them, who so enthusiastically said YES when I shared with them my vision of creating and sharing that kind of Sunday Feast here in London.

 

Heck, I'll let them speak for themselves here:

SUNDAY FEASTS 2012 from Fabio Forin on Vimeo.

Video by Fabio Forin of the Backdoor Kitchen Supperclub

 

Our troupe of multi-ethnic multi-national feeders found a Sunday kitchen and dining room at the brand new School of Wok cooking school in Covent Garden, stitched together 11 elaborate Sunday menus over 3 months, and TADAH! Sunday Feasts was born.

Below is a teaser of the dishes from the various Sunday Feasts menus, served up as canapes at our press preview event on 28 Aug:

Photo credits: Fabio Forin, Cherry Smart, Jason Ng

 

1st row from left:

• Soy dashi eggs with salmon roe, and Cantonese "mouthwatering" chicken by FedbyTang
• Prawn malai curry shots and samosas with Himalayan chutney by Darjeeling Express

2nd row from left:

• Sago gula melaka by Budaya Kusina
• Our Sunday Feasts home School of Wok in Covent Garden
• Peruvian potato cakes with cheese sauce by FabCooking

3rd row from left:

• Squid and squid ink pastries, garnished with olive oil caviar and marcona almond sprinkles by Flavours of Spain
• A pop up canape-matched wine tasting by our press preview supporters A Grape Night In
• Pork belly satay and chwee kueh (steamed rice cakes with pickled turnip) by Plusixfive

4th row from left:

• Canape-style lasagne with radicchio by the Backdoor Kitchen;
• Poudine Mas (Mauritian polenta cakes with coconut) by Yummy Choo
• Surprise-flavour French crepes by Pauline Cuisine and Carib Gourmet

Come! Be tempted by our Sunday Feasts menus. Slow down, sit down, eat with some old friends, make some new friends. Fill your tummy and your soul.

Start your week right. Come feast with us. You bring drinks and an open heart. We'll bring the rest.

All Sunday Feasts are £36 + £3.60 booking fee. BYOB.

 

BOOK YOUR SUNDAY FEAST SEATS HERE.

Edible Experiences, Action Against Hunger, and a League of Supperheroes

By day they walk amongst us, spending their weeks unnoticed, as they live out a normal life as teachers, journalists and doctors. But at the weekend, their super-human cooking powers come to life, turning their homes into pop-up restaurants around London to become ‘The Supperheroes Series’.

Starting this weekend until the end of October 2012, these culinary crusaders are working with international aid agency Action Against Hunger to help fight the injustice of child hunger around the world, conjuring up the most magical menus and using their own recipes to bring delicious food to paying diners – with all profits going towards this worthy cause.

Our foodie startup Edible Experiences is delighted to be the ticketing partner for Action Against Hunger and our league of Supperheroes. Come meet them and try their hunger-busting secret weapon dishes!

 

Win Fabulous Foodie Prizes!

Guest who attend at least 3 Supperhero suppers will automatically be entered into a prize draw and stand to win

• A Delicious Hamper of Unearthed goodies
• 3-hour Asian Cookery Masterclass for 2 at School of Wok
• A “Sausage-Wrangling” Course for 2 at The Butchery Ltd

 

Our League of Supperheroes!

25 Aug: A Hong Kong dinner by FedbyTang - aka Cherry Kung Fu Panda! (SOLD OUT)

 

(Photo on right credit: Cherry Smart)

 

25 Aug: A Vietnamese dinner by Table for 10 (SOLD OUT)

7 Sep: A Mauritian dinner by Yummy Choo - aka Selina Warrior Princess! (Photo credit: Charlotte Hu Photography)

15 Sep: A Malaysian Nyonya feast by Wild Serai

15 Sep: An Indian Street Food Mela by Darjeeling Express

16 Sep: An Italian and Spanish dinner by Backdoor Kitchen and Flavours of Spain

22 Sep: Soda Bread Sensations by The Lazy Baker

29 Sep: A Jamaican dinner by Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen

19 Oct: A Nietzche - themed dinner by The Thinkers Balcony

21 Oct: A Punjabi & Bengali dinner by Khana Commune London

27 Oct: A Pakistani and Keralan Monsoon Feast by Pukka Paki and Absolute Indian

Let the culinary legends begin!

 

Are you secretly a Supperhero? What's your supperhero name and secret weapon dish?

If you'd like to join the league of Action Against Hunger Supperheros, email admin (at) edibleexperiences.com

Sneak Preview of FedbyTang Hongkong-Cantonese Supperclub

Above: Chef Cherry of FedbyTang supperclub. A long lost sister?

 

I confess, I felt a touch sceptical when Chef Cherry of FedbyTang supperclub first told me that she wanted to serve Cantonese cuisine at her supperclub. Wasn't London's Chinese restaurant scene already awash with Cantonese-style cooking? Why would someone trek south to East Dulwich to eat more of the same?

Still, my approach to these doubts is to just recognise that we're all so new to this foodie entrepreneur game. And so my response tends to be, "Let's just try it. See what works, tweak what doesn't."

What stuck with me a lot more in that same conversation with Cherry was the bit about our friends and families. About a creeping sense of loneliness as one more and then one more of our loved ones moved back to Asia. About how that loneliness was kept at bay each time we made a new friend in this big city, usually met through foodie Twitterverse, as she and I did. The seeming hyper-friendly banter on Twitter is a touch shrill sometimes. So I was disarmed, utterly charmed, really, when Cherry reached out with her vulnerability.

"You've said what I've been thinking for a while," I confessed back, "But I've had less courage to admit it."

Mawkish girly talk, I hear you thinking. What does any of that have to do with the FOOD?!

...

And so I soon found myself at FedbyTang's sneak preview dinner. I wonder now if she really needed to do one, really. Cherry's charm evidently reaches far -- her first two suppers sold out even before she managed to actually host her first one!

To begin, we had a summery pork rib and papaya soup. My eyebrows jumped when Cherry first told me about this dish. Growing up in Singapore, papaya was always a breakfast fruit for me, eaten on its own, or if in Thailand, with a squeeze of lime (divine, try it). But never in a soup! As it turns out, the sweetness of the papaya enhanced the sweetness of the pork bone in the broth, and the result was quite delightful.

 

 

Assortment of nibbles: (From top left, clockwise) char siu (roast pork) in shortcrust pastry, oozy slowcooked egg seasoned with dashi, and masterfully deboned and stuffed chicken wings. Exquisite. I really wasn't expecting these at a homecooked dinner. Dimsum strikes me as incredibly faffy to make. These homemade efforts wouldn't be out of place in a professional dimsum parlour. Hell, Ping Pong chefs could stand to spend a few weeks interning with Cherry, frankly. Anyone else agree?!

When asked for feedback about the nibbles, I said "I could eat a bucket of those stuffed chicken wings. Which is not at all a comment about your portion sizing."

 

 

Luscious and generously sized prawns, sitr fried with a slightly sweetened soya sauce gravy. Very similar to how my Mum makes them at home when we have special guests over for dinner! (Even my visiting sister in law Sarah recogised the flavour profile of the dish). By the way, it's rude -- or at least, a real pity -- if you don't suck the savoury sea-salt-sweetness from the prawn heads. As noisily as you can.

 

 

The name of this dish -- kou shui ji -- which translates as "saliva chicken" never fails to amuse me. The dish is named as such not because of what the poached chicken is seasoned with, but rather the salivation that its Chinese wine and Sichuan peppercorns dressing will stimulate in your mouth. Cherry's version was much milder than what I'd usually find in a Sichuan restaurant. But then again, this was closer to the more subtle Cantonese style. Still, I wonder if I could persuade her to turn up the heat over time...

 

 

Another dish that reminded me of home. Cherry's triple cooked pork belly with mui choi (preserved sweet and salty mustard greens). Her Cantonese version is a drier dish compared to my swimming-in-gravy Hakka version. The neatly lined up pork belly slabs also make for a more professional presentation, though it does mean that the gravy doesn't get to work its way as far into the meat. Either way, the dish tends to be a sure win with English guests, as was proved again at our table this evening.

 

 

Pan fried seabass with Chinese chives. Frying fish is a delicate art, and these were done perfectly. My main reaction to this dish was that I couldn't believe guests would be getting big prawns AND seabass in the same meal for a mere £25!

 

 

Desserts: A Hong Kong favourite - Sweetened and chilled red beans with coconut ice-cream. Cherry specially bought these retro ice-cream soda glasses for this dessert!

 

 

And a light and fluffy homemade swissroll with a summery raspberry cream.

 

 

And to end, some fragrant warming Chinese tea to calm our swelling bellies while we waited for our carriages home.

I'm glad to say that despite the many Cantonese-staffed restaurants in London, FedbyTang's cooking will indeed show you a side of Hongkong - Cantonese cuisine that you're not likely to find in any of them. These are the more hearty, honest, subtle dishes that Cantonese people actually eat at home. Rather than the garish greasy neon sweet-and-sour takeaway gloop served in buffet slop troughs in Chinatown.

On a much more personal level, eating at FedbyTang was like eating at a long lost sister's home. It felt like a family reunion dinner, with the discovery that this sister had remembered many of our family recipes, but had put her own stamp on them. Familiar and comforting, yet with delightful new details to discover.

So I personally will be back at FedbyTang sometime soon. Sometimes it will be to quell a craving for Chinese food. And more times, I suspect, it will be to quell a craving for family.

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, which runs marketing and ticketing for FedbyTang supperclub. I attended FedbyTang's sneak preview dinner as a guest.
Click on the logo below to track FedbyTang's upcoming events.

La Dolce Vita at Backdoor Kitchen Supperclub

Above: Backdoor Kitchen's Chef Roberto. When fame comes for him, don't say I never told you!

 

There is an incredibly heady (sometimes dizzying to the point of nausea) sense of romance that goes along with that time of your life when you're chasing your dream on a wing and a prayer... and a lot of blood sweat and tears.

Even more so when you meet kindred spirits who are chasing similar dreams, who immediately understand your rollercoaster spikes of joy and anxiety.

Even more so still, when you find said kindred spirits in your own neighbourhood.

The rain may have been brutal outside, that afternoon when I had coffee with Roberto and Fabio of Backdoor Kitchen supperclub, but under one's sodden clothes and skin I was feeling plenty of warm fuzzy community spirit I thought I might never feel again once I grew out of my 20s.

Roberto and Fabio are both natives of Rome, who came to London to follow their dreams. Roberto works in an Italian deli but dreams of being a chef in his own restaurant. Fabio works in film distribution but dreams of making documentaries.

They decided to start Backdoor Kitchen supperclub (practically in our backyard in Bermondsey) as a challenge to themselves. To see where it would go.

"Maybe I have no name now to open a restaurant," said Roberto, "But if we do this, if we work hard, maybe we'll make a name for ourselves a few years from now."

Amen, brother.

Fabio is working on documenting their adventures, simply with his video camera on his iPhone.

How can you not love the shoestring pluck of it all?

Ok, it helps massively that Roberto can actually cook like a fiend. Not my head or heart, I go with my gut, after all!

By the time we had coffee I was already a fan, as this was soon after I had dined at their Sicilian night supper. I had heard much about Sicilian food, about how it was markedly different from what we recognise as stereotypical Italian food. Their menu certainly sounded different. I wanted to see how it would taste.

The evening opened with polpette di sardines - a Sicilian classic of "meatballs" made with fish.

 

 

Crisp at the crust, moist on the inside, absolutely delicious with Roberto's homemade aioli.

 

 

A dish I could keep on eating, if not for the other diners(!): Cous cous alla Trapanese. Packed densely with seafood, in homage to Trapani, a fishing port on the west coast of Sicily. Beans and lentils were mixed in with the cous cous, making it very hearty indeed. The lovely anchovy sauce kept the potentially stodgy dish moreish.

 

 

Handmade Gnocchi alla Norma. Definitely started to feel like a cement truck after this course! To be fair the food was served family style, so I could have stopped at any sensible point. But we all know that just wasn't going to happen.

Love the hand-written menu and fairly realistic cartoon of Roberto, by the way.

 

 

And now to the meat courses. Here's Caponata al Cacao. Caponata is in essence a sweet and sour eggplant-based stew with endless regional variations. Roberto's twist on this was to serve it with grilled tuna strips and a touch of cocoa powder. The hint of cocoa definitely added a caramelly depth to the balanced sweet and sour of the dish. Personally I would have preferred my tuna to be much pinker on the inside. In spite of that, this unusual dish was my favourite of the evening.

 

 

The last main: Bocconani di Maiale su Verdure Arrumminate - diced pork cooked in a saffron sauce, on a bed of chard sauteed with garlic, chilli pepper, sultanas and pinenuts. The inclusion of the last 2 ingredients is telltale Sicilian.

 

 

Desserts are always a surprise at Backdoor Kitchen. This time it was a duo. In the back, a very traditional Sicilian cassata with pistachio glaze. Too heavy and marzipan-y for my personal taste, though Italians at the table gave a nod to its authenticity. In front, a lovely light canoli.

 

 

The boys may not have a proper restaurant yet, but I definitely feel like I've found a gem of an Italian local - where the food is full of heart, the crew and ambience of the room full of warmth, and the £25 "damage" at the end of the evening full of value. La Dolce Vita. The Sweet Life. Of course I'll be back for more. And soon.

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, which helps to sell bookings for Backdoor Kitchen. I attended this supper as a paying guest.

Click on the logo below to view Backdoor Kitchen's upcoming events. If you're too far west for Bermondsey, consider trying Backdoor Kitchen at the Supperclub Summit at the Goethe Institut in Kensington this August.

Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen Supperclub Debut

Above: Not just any ol' jerk chicken. The jerk sauce is Lisa's family's homemade secret blend.

 

When I first met Lisa to talk through her ambitions of setting up a supperclub to introduce Londoners to authentic Jamaican and Carribean home cooking, one of the things she mentioned by the by was "Oh if the weather is nice we can eat and maybe BBQ on the terrace".

Lovely Lisa was so laid back and understated, I was gobsmacked when I showed up at her Surrey Quays apartment building to help out with front of house at her debut, and found this professional table setup below, with a panoramic view of the Thames and Canary Wharf.

 

 

I am very pleased (and relieved!) to tell you that as lovely as the ambience was, it was not the best bit of the evening. Bring on the food!

Is there anything as lovely as light-as-a-feather freshly fried dough fritters? The slightly spicy ones on the right with very traditional saltfish and ackee were especially delectable.

 

 

Here's team Wild Serai in da house! Lisa was apparently inspired to start her Jamaican supperclub after she attended Yolanda and Sharif's Malaysian supperclub in New Malden. Just so you lucky future guests know who to thank...

 

 

I always encourage hosts to share some history and stories about the dishes they choose to make. Again, Lisa's poise and depth of knowledge about Jamaican cuisine and its foundation in "making the best of whatever scrap bits slaves were given to eat" really impressed me, given this was her first supperclub.

 

 

My personal favourite dish was the day was Lisa's oxtail stew, marinated and slowcooked for... what, days? Given the depth of flavour? I've never tasted oxtail like this, in any cuisine. In this particular rendition it was cooked with white beans and carrots.

 

 

Another Jamaican classic - curried goat, with some deadly rum punch in the background (going by increasing volume of conversation and laughter at the table!) I wish the goat looked as good as it tasted.

 

 

Accompaniments: Rice and peas, but the rice here was much more savoury and fragrant than any Carribean restaurant I've ever been to, as the rice was cooked in freshly squeezed coconut milk (a real treat in London as any islander or Indian auntie will tell you). Also, very sweet fried plantain.

 

 

If the above dishes look very substantial, just keep in mind that we haven't gotten to the "meat courses" yet!

Here's Mark, master of not 1 but 2 down-home drum grills for the evening.

 

 

You've probably had jerk chicken (above) before, but how often do you see jerk pork belly? The one nitpick I would make here is that the grilled meats should be served as soon as they're ready, rather than left to sit, cool down, and dry out a little. Ok, it'll probably cause a nuclear meltdown in my mouth, but heck, I'll risk it.

 

 

For dessert, Lisa made 3 kinds of (very potent!) rum-soaked cakes. Here's one of our guests taking in the fumes... I mean fragrance!

 

 

To finish, luxuriantly thick hot chocolate, hand ground from unprocessed cocoa pellets (below) and infused with herbs and spices. This is going to be knock-your-socks-off addictive when the weather turns cold again (errr I guess that means now).

 

 

The verdict? Well I heard later that some guests paid Lisa extra so that they could take boxes of leftovers home with them!

If you're curious about authentic homecooked Jamaican cuisine, or are homesick for the real deal and frustrated with the shallow samey-samey powdered flavourings of more commercial eatery options, then get thee booked into a Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen supper.

And pray for "terrace weather".

 

Click on the logo below to see Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen's latest events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and run marketing and bookings for Lisa's Jamaican Kitchen.

Two Hungry Girls and Platform 65's Suppertime Stories

Above: The run-list for Two Hungry Girls' debut supperclub.

 

One of the unexpected but very special privileges of running our fledgling startup Edible Experiences, is to be involved in the birthing of a delicious new supperclub. I've now been the midwife to 4 such lovely ventures, Plusixfive Singapore supperclub and Wild Serai Malaysian supperclub, and 2 in this month (April 2012) alone: Two Hungry Girls and Platform 65's Literary Supperclub Series, where dishes get paired with stories and poems.

Today I was going to write about the magic I felt when Two Hungry Girls (Leigh and Shu) partnered up with another two hungry girls (storyteller Cui and me). But I woke up this morning to realise that Emily of The Long Way Home blog had already done the hard work, and done it well. So I reckon you should just read her very kind and generous post! Thank you Emily!

For my part, let me just tempt you with a few teaser shots of the treats by the very talented, creative and dedicated Two Hungry Girls and our hungry storyteller. If you like what you see, there are more photos here on our Edible Experiences Facebook page. Take a minute to "Like" us too please!

And if you like what you hear, a hungry little bird tells me that Two Hungry Girls and Platform 65 might be teaming up again soon for a new instalment of delights for both the belly and the mind. Email thgsupperclub@gmail.com and / or cui@platform65.org to get early alerts when event details get decided.

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences and I run marketing and bookings for Two Hungry Girls and Platform 65's Literary Supperclub series

Click on this logo below to track the latest events by Two Hungry Girls

Click on this logo below to track the latest literary supperclub events by Platform 65's Literary Supperclub

Supping with Two Hungry Girls

Above: Two Hungry Girls' absolutely fabulous green tea profiteroles

 

There are a certain type of people, who every now and again confide, slightly mope-ily, that it's so much harder to make friends and really connect with people as adults, compared to when we had the condusive environment of school to bind us together. All the more so if one is a transplant in a big city far from home.

This remark always used to sadden me, and constrict me with a wee bit of anxiety, especially when I was on the brink of moving to a new city, and definitely when I was on the brink of leaving a traditional work environment, diving into the seeming murk of freelancing and startup-ing (is that a verb?)

But the foodies of London (you know who y'all are, lovelies) have, over the last year and a bit, continuously proved my anxiety wrong. No one's claiming or promising kinship at first sight. But make the effort to break bread together often enough, and smiles and laughter inevitably start to bubble, and heart starts to warm (maybe due to arteries slowly clogging, but why fight a good feeling?)

Leigh and Shu of the newly formed Two Hungry Girls supperclub are a case in point. I met fellow Singaporean transplant Leigh through working with Singapore supperclub Plusixfive, and over subsequent coffees, ramen and gingerbread, found ourselves egging each other on with our freelance ventures (Leigh is a professional pastry chef, and started Craft Cakes to design custom cakes and teach pastry making and decorating classes). Shu -- a Malaysian native and author of Hungry Female who left her corporate sales job to spend time learning Chinese in Beijing -- charmed me immediately with her irrepressible energy and infectious laugh.

 

Above: The Two Hungry Girls, Leigh (left) and Shu. Photo by Nathalie Malric

 

And so I am delighted to introduce to you all Two Hungry Girls supperclub, and its mission to share their own brand of creative Chinese and South East Asian cuisine with London.

I got a sneak peek at Leigh and Shu's handiwork last month when they hosted a charity supperclub for the Great British Chefs / Action Against Hunger charity supperclub competition. Here's the supper that got them into the competition finals.

 

Their opening act? An absolutely delicious lychee and raspberry sangria. These were fresh, hand-peeled lychees, mind you, not the syrupy canned variety. Very addictive. This is going to be a major hit in the summer months I reckon.

 

 

To start, lightly picked cucumbers with shredded cloud ear mushrooms; and tea-soaked eggs.

 

Mains: A dish I immediately recognised from tramping around Laos - a platter of visually delightful "birdcage" lemongrass skewers. Utterly yummy, fragrant and so much fun as diners inevitably peer at the skewers intrigued at how the chef got the meatballs into the birdcages.

 

Tofu tends to get absolutely butchered (ironically) by Western vegetarians. When treated respectfully as a star in its own right rather than a shoddy stand-in for meat, tofu can be a real delicacy, as the girls pull off here with a simple soya sauce and sesame oil dressing and fried shallots.

 

 

Stir fried prawns and asparagus. A deceptively simple dish since it is actually very easy to overcook. This rendition had a lovely crunch.

 

 

Panfried fish, with the skin crisped to perfection (again, tricky for many home cooks). For Two Hungry Girls' debut supper they'll be combining fish with a Sichuan style mala (literally meaning numbing and spicy) sauce.

 

 

However much of this Chinese soul food you shovel in, be sure to save room for dessert, or kick yourself afterwards. Behold Leigh's parting shot (and what a whammy it was!): A tower of green tea profiteroles. (Did I mention that Leigh used to work at the Michelin-starred Sketch?)

 

 

Two Hungry Girls make their supperclub debut on Sunday 1 April (no joke) in Hampstead. Come sample some Chinese soul food, scarf some scrumptious desserts, meet some interesting people and maybe, just maybe, chase away a few big city blues.

You can book seats via our foodie venture Edible Experiences.

Hope to see some of you there!

 

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and run marketing and bookings for Two Hungry Girls. Click on the link below to keep track of events by Two Hungry Girls.

Debuting Wild Serai, A Malaysian Supperclub in London

Above: Ikan bakar -- grilled fish in a tangy tamarind sauce. The guests were faster than my camera!

 

A few gluttonous glimpses from Wild Serai's (Blog, Twitter, Facebook) solo debut in Brixton over the weekend (17 Dec). The menu was inspired by the Malay wedding feasts that chef Yolanda attended on her most recent trip to her native Malaysia.

 

 

A few guests were literally holding their sides after lunch, heaving from the volume of food served, but I reckon Wild Serai erred on the right side of pain...

We know there were quite a few of you out there who were keen to join in the fun over the weekend but had other Christmas-time commitments. I've been told that Yolanda is already plotting a nasi lemak feast and a seafood feast (possibly a reprise of this previous test dinner, but watch out for a few new tricks) for early next year, this time from the comfort of her own home in New Malden, rather than the logistical obstacle course that was the community hall in Brixton!

If the thought is making your mouth water, email wildserai@gmail.com to get on the mailing list. Feed you soon, we hope!

 

Click the logo below to keep track of Wild Serai's upcoming supperclub dates.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, which manages marketing and bookings for Wild Serai

Persian Supper at Sabrina's Kitchen

After spending a week in Iran waaaaaay back in 2004 on a brief work assignment, I fell in love with Persian cuisine, and have since taken any opportunity to try any renditions that sound suitably authentic.

So when the feisty Sabrina Ghayour included her native Persian cuisine in her supperclub menu lineup, I jumped as if caller ID was showing a familiar name, one associated with a brief, faraway, long ago, but nonetheless torrid fling.

Not that this caused any fluttery anxiety when the evening rolled around. Sabrina's hearty homey Persian cooking felt like a big bear hug from a favourite slightly batty relative. Familiar yet just a touch edgy, reassuring yet giving little allowance for complacency.

In short, downright enjoyable. Two of my dinner companions had never tried Persian cuisine until last Tuesday (6 Dec), and I'm mighty pleased this was the introduction they got.

Starters. The irresistable trap in any middle eastern meal. Usually so delicious you just keep on eating until you are sensibly full. And then the mains arrive. *Facepalm* I challenge you to pace yourself appropriately given the following:

Maast-o-khiar: Yoghurt and cucumber with mint, rose petals and pomergranate seeds. Gorgeous.

 

 

Mirza Ghasemi: The orange glop on the left is smoked aubergine dip with tomato and garlic. This was both Babs's and my favourite dish of the evening. Wonderfully smoky, silky, sweet and tart. Hm. We seem to have drifted back into fling imagery...

 

 

Salad Shirazi: Cucumber, tomato and onion salad with a lemon dressing. Refreshing, but admittedly not anything overly exotic or exciting.

 

 

Kashk-e-Bademjan: Sauteed aubergine, caramelised onion and whey. Possibly my least favourite dish of the evening. The whey, which had neither the familiar rich silkiness of cream nor gentle tartness of yoghurt, was too unfamiliar a taste and texture for me personally.

 

 

All to be mopped up and scarfed down with flatbread, along with a mix of fresh herbs, radishes, walnuts and feta cheese -- staple opening acts at any Persian table.

 

 

And now to the mains (Oof. Make space, tummy, dammit...)

Khoresht Gheymeh Bademjan: Incredibly tender lamb, aubergine and split pea stew with preserved lemons. Love it that we've managed to have aubergine 3 ways in 1 meal!

 

 

Khoresht Fesenjan: Chicken, walnut and pomegranate molasses stew. Very fragrant and pleasantly sweet-sour. After I was way past the point of sensibly full I still couldn't resist spooning another bit of gravy onto a bit of rice for that one last mouthful for the road...

 

 

Coucou Sabzi: Mixed fresh herb and barberry frittata. My table got into a discussion about what barberries were. Based on hazy memories from meals in Iran I said they were little sour berries, often found in Persian rice dishes. Thankfully, I don't have to eat my words, at least this time!

for those of you who are curious enough to try this at home, I managed to find Sabrina's recipe for coucou sabzi online. Wahey!

 

 

Silly gluttonous me, my brain was so food-addled by this point that I forgot to take a photo of dessert: Almond, carrot, pistachio and orange cake, with rosewater cream. Or maybe it was just too yummy and I ate it too fast.

All of the above, including some stellar hosting by Sabrina's friend and soon-to-be Leiths acoltye Hanna and fabulous table chat, cost £40. Definitely on the steep end of supperclubs prices, but understandable when Sabrina was running these suppers at Toynbee Hall. Hopefully if she continues to host more suppers in the new year, she'll be able to find locations that will make the overall meal a bit more affordable for punters. I certainly had no regrets about spending the money on this dinner, but £40 would naturally limit my ability to be a repeat customer in the new year.

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Sabrina's Kitchen's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences. Unless otherwise stated I attend events as a paying guest.

Food Urchin Christmas Supper Club Rises From The Pits

Back in the summer, Food Urchin Danny Kingston hosted a supper club where he dug a big hole in his backyard and cooked a whole lamb in it. I really like the idea of that kind of primal whole-animal cooking, and was gutted I couldn't go. Then he got it into his head that for Christmas he'd cook a turkey in the same pit. Bloody genius! I was sold, and put the date in the calendar about 2 months in advance.

Then disaster struck the week of the scheduled supper. (Evidently Mr Food Urchin managed to find a photo of my reaction to the news). He graciously offered me the option to back out, knowing that the turkey pit was the main draw for me for the evening. But flakes are one of my top pet peeves in life, and I'm a big subscriber of the "do unto others..." school of thought. So I stood firm, and put my faith in the Food Urchins to resurrect their supper from the (flooded) pits.

And boy oh boy did they.

The Food Urchins opened with a "can of peas". To be honest this was the closest to breaking point of my faith. Did they really leave prep till so late that this was all they could be arsed to do for the opening act? Please please please let this be just another demonstration of Danny's oddball wit (my favourite of his works being his Halloween supper menu).

Thankfully they of course mean canapes. My favourite was the anchovies and salmon eggs on cream cheese soldiers. Very tasty and very pretty. Pretty sure I ate an unfair share of these!

 

 

If I remember right, these were prunes and cheese wrapped in bacon. Can't go far wrong with this sweet-salty combination.

 

 

Potato mash balls stuffed with cream (or maybe creme fraiche). Best eaten piping hot.

 

 

For starters, home-cured smoked salmon 2 ways: The darker one on the left is with beetroot, and the lighter one on the right is with grapefruit and basil. I enjoyed both thoroughly, but preferred the latter, for its novel refreshing light flavour.

 

 

Mains: Braised pig cheek (the dark shitake-looking knob in the back) and pork belly confit in a red wine sauce, with carrots, shallots and celeriac mash. The cheeks were beautifully cooked, pulling apart easily with a poke of the fork. Fellow diners commented that the taste was more akin to a beef brisket than pork. Very professional plating, by the way!

 

 

Bravo on the plating for dessert of a poached pear and Christmas pudding ice-cream as well... if you've got an inherently potty-minded-teenager sense of humour like me...

 

 

We ended with a cheese and very cleverly done (and strong!) port jelly course. I got a bit greedy here and forgot to take a photo of the cheese, sorry!

 

 

For £25 you get all of the above, and the opportunity to meet a table of lovely fellow diners. Having attended the Food Urchins' first home-based supper club earlier in the spring, and now their last one for this year, I'm very pleased to report that the strength of cooking, plating and hosting is all growing and blossoming very nicely. I hope this continues on the uptrend in the new year.

Meanwhile, I'm glad I didn't chicken out just because there wasn't turkey.

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Food Urchin Supperclub's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences. Unless otherwise stated, I attend events as a paying guest.

Khana Commune Supper Club London (and Singapore)

 

While nowhere near as operationally complicated and stressful as running a restaurant, running a truly special supperclub requires hard work, a bit of alchemy and luck. The food, AND the vibe emitted by the hosts, AND -- when the stars truly align -- the guests, all have to be full of heart, and it has to shine through. This gold standard is what I aspire towards when helping out at Plusixfive and Wild Serai, and it requires ongoing effort. Indeed, the supperclubs I've attended so far in various countries usually manage 1 or 2 out of 3. But last week, I am delighted to say, Khana Commune London (blog and Twitter) nailed 3 out of 3 for me.

Khana Commune London, run by Fareena Alam and her husband Abdul-Rehman Malik out of their Whitechapel flat, has its roots in Singapore. There, former journalist Zina Alam (Fareena's sister) embraced her and her mother's love for food, cooking and hosting, by starting one of Singapore's first supper clubs out of their family home in Pasir Panjang. I got to meet Zina during her most recent trip to London, yakked incessantly about supperclubs and other foodie venture dreams, and felt like I had met a kindred spirit. On our recent trip to Singapore last month (Nov), Babs and I got to try Zina's family's Bengali cooking, and met a charming cinematographer among other guests. (My camera really struggled with the low light of their front porch, sadly, so I don't have many photos from that dinner that I care to share here.)

 

Above: Zina preparing tea at Khana Commune Singapore

 

By that time we were already booked in to try Fareena's London arm of Khana Commune (coincidentally on the 1st anniversary of Khana Commune Singapore), and by a stroke of luck Fareena's mother was in town to visit and cook as well.

We opened with a very refreshing homemade lemonade, and these crispy crunchy very moreish piaju, onion and lentil fritters.

 

 

Alarmingly addictive. Especially when slathered with coriander chutney.

 

 

But then it was topped by aloor chop, potato parcels -- crumbed outside, savoury mash inside -- with mincemeat filling. They're not much to look at, but ultimate comfort foods seldom are. But just you try and stop at one, after the first bite...

 

 

I love it when a vegetable dish makes me jump up and say, "Whoa. If I could make this at home, I'd actually be excited about this usually boring vegetable." Just like Yotam Ottolenghi and David Chang changed cauliflowers and brussel sprouts for me forever, Khana Commune London's broccoli bartha below finally made broccoli sexy for me. The kick, it seems, comes from the lacing of mustard oil. I will be trying this at home.

 

 

Daal, another dish I don't usually get overly excited about, was on this evening brilliantly spiked with green mango, waking up one's palette without tipping it over into discomfort. And who can say no to deep fried onions?

 

 

Tandoori chicken. The spice rub is much wetter than what you'd probably be used to seeing in a North Indian restaurant, but very tasty nonetheless. It's a small detail, but I just love the sheer height of the contents in the bowl!

 

 

Chilli paneer (cheese) with sweet peppers and onions. It brought back amusing memories of running around Mumbai and Bangalore with Babs, trying Chinese-Indian food (trust me, it's a cuisine unto itself). Also, stir fried baby pumpkin, skin and all (first photo above). Sweet and light and not at all stodgy.

 

 

Dessert: The best gulab jamon I have ever had in my life, ever. Usually these are so painfully sweet my teeth hurt and I give up after half a ball. But these were light and had just the subtlest crisp in the shell. I think Babs was sorely disappointed he didn't get to vulture up my portion. One of the other guests even blurted out, "This is better than my mother's gulab jamon!"

Fareena is happy to share most recipes if you ask, but has been sworn to secrecy on the gulab jamon by her mother. Apparently when she made these as a child at her mother's elbow, her aunties would sit her down on their laps afterwards, feed her sweets and try to get her to divulge technical details!

 

 

I hope you're getting the sense now of the openness and many laughs shared around the table. Stories swapped included those of coping with inter-cultural relationships, the ongoing poignancy of the India-Pakistan-Bangladesh split for families who have roots on both sides of the borders, and so on.

Fuelled no doubt by the charm and warmth of front of house chief Abdul-Rehman, and his disarming passion about coffee. We had a spiel and smell of about 8 varieties, including the not-usually-seen cascara (photo below), the husk of the coffee berry. I'd first heard about cascara via the cutting edge Young Turks, who made cascara jelly with it. On this evening I got to try a plain brew of the stuff, and a traditional Yemeni kisher, a cascara tea brewed with spices such as cardamon, ginger, cinnamon. Very soothing and warming upon ingestion, but boy did it provide a pleasant buzz for our hour-walk back home from Whitechapel!

 

 

My heartfelt thanks to team Khana Commune for hosting such an absolutely lovely evening (lasting far longer than I thought it would, mostly due to coffee, kisher and chat at the end, not because of any slowness of service!) Perhaps such a friendly chatty combination of guests is a bit of a roulette, but I hope Fareena and Abdul-Rehman will hang on to whatever magic is within their control, and keep building on the good thing they have going.

 

Click on the logo below to find out about Khana Commune London's upcoming events.

Disclaimer: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences. Unless otherwise noted, I attend events as a paying guest.

Introducing Wild Serai Supperclub via Plusixfive

 

Londoners, I'm delighted to introduce Wild Serai (Facebook and Twitter), London's latest supperclub to showcase cuisine from my native South East Asia.

An oncologist by day, British-Malaysian chef Yolanda Augustin started Wild Serai (serai means lemongrass in Malay) to pay homage to the memory of foraging for wild lemongrass and other herbs that grew in abundance close to her grandmother's house in Malaysia. When she later moved to the UK for university and work, homesickness for her family's cuisine kicked in. Soon she -- like many of us food-mad adult transplants -- spent visits back to Asia harrassing relatives for recipes, and hoarding and transporting comical amounts of hard-to-find-in-the-UK ingredients, in order to host epic dinner parties for friends here.

Finally, Yolanda decided to test the waters with a paying crowd, guest cheffing for the main dishes at a recent Plusixfive supper. She sure as heck pulled out all the stops, serving up a tricky-to-execute seafood feast! Here's a few peeks at what we got up to that night.

To open, Plusixfive chef Goz's formidable pork belly satay.

 

 

Yolanda's sweet and fiery sambal prawns with a scatter of stinky petai beans. The potency of flavour and fragrance of belacan, the fermented prawn paste that goes into a sambal, is greatly affected by terroir, much like wine and cheese. Much of the commercially available stuff in the UK, for example, is from Indonesia. My Mum swears by belacan from Penang, Malaysia. The belacan in this dish apparently came from Bintulu in Sarawak, its specialness handily researched by Cinnamon and Truffle.

 

 

Next up, scallops baked with butter, garlic, chilli and curry leaves. So pretty a hotshot chef we happily count as a repeat guest at Plusixfive added it to his "ideas" collection.

 

 

Mussels steamed in yellow bean sauce, Chinese wine, garlic, onions and chilli, if I remember right. A welcome respite from the heat of the other dishes.

 

 

Sauteed kang kong (water spinach) with sambal and lemongrass.

 

 

And now the headline act for the evening: Malaysian chilli crab. Sweet, spicy, brothy, fragrant with lemongrass...

 

 

... best paired with fried mantou buns to mop up all the gravy.

 

 

There is no polite way to eat this, and we were so pleased by and proud of the uninhibited enthusiasm of our guests!

 

 

Dessert: Goz grinds up ice for chendol...

 

 

... and whips up not one but TWO types of Nyonya kueh: Cassava cake, and gao-chang-gou, the rainbow-hued 9-layer cake.

 

 

You'll have to come to your own conclusions about Wild Serai's cooking. Suffice it to say, Yolanda was encouraged enough by the evening's feedback to go ahead and launch Wild Serai properly, and set a date for a solo Pop Up Mamak lunch! Yolanda's Malaysian-Basque boyfriend Sharif will be heading up the front of house team. Details below:

 

Wild Serai Debut: A Pop Up Mamak
Saturday, 17 Dec
12.30pm
Brixton
£30 suggested minimum donation, BYOB
Details about the menu here

(Full address will be sent to guests, but closest stations are Brixton and Stockwell tube, and Loughborough Junction Rail)

Email wildserai@gmail.com if you'd like to join the massive makan on 17 Dec, or if you'd like to get on the mailing list for future events.

When requesting seats please include the following:
Your name:
Your contact number:
No. of seats you would like:
Any food allergies / dietary restrictions:
How you heard about Wild Serai:

Hope to see some of you there!

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Wild Serai's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, which manages marketing and bookings for bothWild Serai and Plusixfive.

French Laundrette Supper Club

 

This all started as a joke apparently. Food writer, freelance cooking instructor, past "Come Dine With Me" winner Sabrina Ghayour -- like many other London foodies -- was very much looking forward to Thomas Keller's French Laundry pop up in London in October. Until it was announced that the meal was going to be a rinsing £250 a pop.

The morale of those of us with mere mortal paychecks got trouser-pressed flattened. Ms Ghayour, had a different and utterly fabulous reaction. She and Dan VN who runs the Montpelier Basement supperclub in Bristol started joking that they should run a rival supperclub for all us folks who couldn't afford the French Laundry £250 ticket price, charging £2.50 instead.

People, farms, and corporates alike started offering produce. Then some naysayer said she'd never be able to manage it. Obviously that tipped the very feisty Sabrina into being determined-to-pull-it-off mode. The cheeky French Laundrette name was born. Action Against Hunger UK (Sabrina's pet charity for many years) got picked as the charitable cause. The media loved the angle and ran with it. A veritable army of kitchen and front of house volunteers got mobilised. If the chatter is real, the event sold out even before the official booking line opened.

Through sheer luck I managed to secure seats for Babs and myself for the evening at The Chancery Restaurant (one woman's last minute cancellation nightmare is another woman's bonanza).

The opening act: Salmon tartar cornet with sweet onion and creme fraiche. A homage to Chef Keller. Really enjoyed the saltiness of the smoked salmon combined with the sweetish cone and the tang of the onions. Gone all too soon!

 

 

A thick cauliflower soup infused with black truffle. Creamy, velvety and savoury to the last drop, which you could mop up with a piece of bread, or else with some very obscene looking tongue acrobatics in the espresso cup.

 

 

Gloucestershire Old Spot pork loin, rolled in pancetta, with a sliver-lining of mushrooms in between. If only all Gloucs had such a sliver lining, eh? The tomato and tarragon cleverly cut the grease from one's tongue.

 

 

Mackeral carpaccio with dill oil and beetroot sorbet. Probably the prettiest dish of the evening, but for me personally also the weakest dish of the evening taste-wise. If there was horseradish on the mackeral it didn't show through sufficiently for me, neither was there any kind of acid curing of the fish. With just the earthy sweetness of the beetroot, the overall impact came across a touch flat.

 

 

The main meat course: Hogget cutlets with cavalo nero, black garlic and galette. A very enjoyable macho dish, robust in taste and texture throughout. I was delighted to find that most folks at our food blogger table had no reservations about using their hands to help them gnaw on the meat close to the bone. I would've have gone ahead anyway, but I sure enjoyed having company!

Hogget is that year between lamb (up to 1 year) and mutton (at about 3 years), or what we've decided to term "teenage sheep". It's an angsty, confused, mildly angry phase, we speculate. Possibly because it's just had its first shear... right about when it's become aware of the attractions of the opposite sex. (Best to check the veracity of this babbling with your nearest sheep farmer.)

 

 

Dessert: Fig, pistachio and almond tart, with thyme infused creme anglaise. Loved the subtle sweetness from the figs and nuts. Earthy and beautiful.

 

 

A shockingly generous cheese and chutney platter to close.

 

 

Two thumbs up for sassy Sabrina and her dedicated team of volunteers and sponsors, who raised £3,200 for Action Against Hunger UK by the end of the evening.

 

 

After dinner, a raffle of donated gifts. I won a bar of Original Beans chocolate bar. Wahey! Let's see if I get to try any of it before choco-fiend Babs wallops it all...

 

 

The effort also proved to be a great supper club launch pad for Sabrina herself. She's just launched Sabrina's Kitchen, and in November and December will be hosting a series of Persian, Spanish, Arabesque and Pan-Asian suppers with ferdiefoodlab's Simon Fernandez (who was also one of the chefs at French Laundrette) at Toynbee Hall in East London.

If all of the above was the result of a joke, I can't wait to see what happens when Sabrina gets serious.

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Sabrina's Kitchen's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences. Unless otherwise mentioned, I attend events as a paying guest.

 

The Chancery Restaurant
9 Cursitor St
London EC4A 1LL
United Kingdom
+44 20 7831 4000

Happy Singapore National Day from the Plusixfive Crew

This one's for those who came before us, who made our kooky food-mad little island nation what it is today. And for those blazing new trails in Singapore, and Singaporeans hacking new paths far from home, going up against money, steel and the sometimes seemingly unstoppable wave of middle class routines and comforts, shaping the heart of what Singapore could be tomorrow.

This one's also for all you people out there who are in the food service industry for a living. After pulling our first lunch AND dinner double shift at Goz's Plusixfive supperclub this past Sunday, all I can say is... y'all NUTS. Much respect.

And thanks Goz for not taking a photo of me passed out on his couch between shifts, phone still in hand, mid tweet. Or so I think...

Most of all, thanks to those of you who came along to celebrate Singapore's National Day at Plusixfive. Feed you again soon, hopefully!

 

Tempted? Curious? Come along for one of our Singapore suppers sometime. Email plusixfive@gmail.com to get on the mailing list, and be first in line to get the deets on new dates.

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Plusixfive's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and run marketing and bookings for Plusixfive.

Whoa, Timeout. We're in Timeout?!

 

Holy crapola! Goz's Singapore supperclub +(65) Plusixfive gets mentioned in TimeOut London this week. On page 26, below Dishoom and Polpo and next to Restaurants in Residence (Well there goes the neighbourhood, they must be thinking!). Thanks very much to future Plusixfive guest diner Tanya for giving us the heads up. You totally made our day.

I'm still in shock. When I took up the role of heading up marketing, reservations management and front of house for Goz's supperclub -- besides to let Goz concentrate on the food while the supperclub was just starting out -- it was very much so that I could learn about all the aches and pains related to organising and marketing food events, stuff I really wanted to know inside out for the food startup Babs and I are building. I'm learning a ton, as I had hoped. But this! This is beyond gravy!

Mostly, though, I think this is the universe telling Goz and me that feeding nice people totally badass ox cheek rendang and braised duck and pork belly mui choi, and making sure they have a fun evening, is a good thing to do, and we that should keep doing it for at least a while more.

So we will.

So come get some. We got some fun stuff coming up in August. Email plusixfive@gmail.com to get on our mailing list, and we'll make sure you get the deets first.

As we say back home in Singapore, "Eh, donch say ne'er chio you har."

Dinner by Chef James Lowe

Above: Chef James Lowe searing mackeral

 

A couple of weekends back I had different groups of foodie friends visiting London at the same time. As part of taking my mates round to my favourite eats around the city, I asked Chef James Lowe if he would make an omakase (Chef's choice) dinner for 11 of us at £40 per person, on a BYOB basis. He graciously agreed. Sidenote: It's amazing how many time you can squeeze the world "pleeeeease" into an email.

James Lowe is an alum of The Fat Duck and was most recently the head chef at St John Bread and Wine. While hunting for his own restaurant site, he and The Ledbury development chef Isaac McHale have teamed up to form the Young Turks, cooking at supperclubs and pop ups around London (and soon abroad), with a commitment to small local producers, a fresh approach to British cooking and a spirit of collaboration rather than secrecy. On the side, James goes on quite a bit about his belief in good food at accessible prices. All philosophies I can get behind. But what of the food itself? After having attended their Burger Monday and Loft Project events, my gut is in full agreement with my head.

We started the evening with some baby veggies from Chegworth Valley. Babs is quite a fan of the airy anchovy cream foam dip. (Thanks to James also for foraging for the flowers. Nice rustic touch.)

 

 

Green strawberries, fried cheese bits, raw almonds and I think... rocket. Very light and green.

 

 

Tis the season to gorge on freshly picked sugarsnap peas. We'd been eating them all week around town any time we saw them on the menu. Here they're paired with wild pea shoots and flowers and ticklemore, a kind of goat's cheese. The wild pea here was possibly a bit too freshly foraged -- one of our diners found a live caterpillar amid the leaves (well the gorging season isn't just for humans, is it). It was hard to gauge the reaction at the table. One the one hand there were murmurings afterwards about why wasn't the plate immediately cleared. On the other hand, the diners (mostly Chinese) immediately started a surprisingly long conversation about what insects each of us had eaten, on purpose, while traveling in China. Also, these same diners were shockingly keen to nibble on some moss right off the surface of a tree that had been sawed off by a foraging chef dinner guest!

 

 

Next up: Cured mackeral, seared, with tomatoes. Simple, but yum.

 

 

The last 2 savory dishes were the superstars of the night. Here we have raw beef rib (look at that marbling!) made into a tartare with elderberry capers, wild watercress and oyster emulsion. Warning: it tends to be explosive on one's brains and senses when eaten for the first time.

 

 

But this next dish amazingly managed to outdo the last, and was my favourite dish of the evening. Very gently cooked wild sea trout, with sea beet and mussels in mussel muddle and broth. My friends and I were talking about this dish for days afterwards. The sea beet (also known as wild spinach) tasted like the essence of green and felt like silk. I need to get more. The mussels were really sweet and that sea trout! I'm still struggling to describe it. It looks like sashimi, but the oh so gentle cooking means that it has none of the stringiness or fibre of sashimi, but neither does it flake off in dry chunks of a larger fish. Incredibly delicate in the mouth, both in flavour and texture. Still not happy with this description, though. I need to eat this again and work on my words, clearly!

 

 

Finally, for dessert, goats curd ice-cream with luscious strawberries and powdered berries. A light twist to the very British strawberries and cream.

 

 

Many thanks are in order: To the chef for a lovely dinner, his delightful sous chef for the evening Rory Sheehan, on loan from James Knappett and Marcus Wareing (a young talent to watch, clearly!), and also my fabulous foodie friends, who were game to come along to a dinner where none of us knew what was going to be served beforehand.

If you're keen to taste James Lowe and Isaac Machale's work for yourself, the Young Turks and their front of house partners The Clove Club will be tearing up Canary Wharf for a week starting tomorrow (Saturday 25 June) as part of the month-long Restaurants in Residence pop up. Go!

Pork Belly Mui Choi

Above: Straight from the source -- Hakka pork belly mui choi paired with rice congee. Delectable comfort food as sampled in my ancestral village in Dabu, Guangdong, China, said to be the Hakka capital of the world.

 

Pork Belly Mui Choi. The very whisper of this traditional Hakka dish for me ignites waves of homesickness and nostalgia and pleasure.

The slow-cooked melty pork belly slices and the sweet-salty pickled mustard greens were a staple indulgence (if that makes sense) during my growing up years in Singapore. I've always loved this dish dearly, eating a single batch for multiple meals over multiple days if I'm home visiting.

And then I tried the dish in Dabu, Guangdong, (aka the Hakka capital of the world) during a pilgrimage to my ancestral village in China, one of the many chapters of our 15-month backpacking honeymoon. And although it didn't taste all that different from my family's version at home, an unexplained blasphemous thought did cross my mind at that dinner: "If there is no pork belly mui choi in heaven, I might have to rethink my strategy for the afterlife..."

So naturally, it was one of my top priority dishes that I wanted to learn how to cook as part of my campaign to pester my extended family for beloved family recipes while Babs and I were on that same big gallavant. And so I did.

Back here in London, I decided that my friend Goz's debut +(65) / Plusixfive Singapore supper club would be the perfect opportunity to share something I loved and something I learned.

As much as I love this dish, I was a bit (pleasantly) taken aback by the reaction it got. If I could beam anymore, my cheeks would fall off my face. Maybe they never stood any chance, really. The fat, sugar and salt in this dish is very much a triple-strength heat-seeking missile for pleasure sensors in the human body. Resistance is futile.

So anyway, I promised to share the recipe, specifically with Cinnamon & Truffle, Gastronomy Domine and Tamarind and Thyme. FAST. It was a good nudge. Y'all get it too!

(Then disaster strikes. My little netbook, which held out through Lao jungles and Jordan deserts and Bolivian highlands, finally decided to give up and roll over. Along with my pork belly moi choi step by step instruction photos, along with 20,000 other photos from being on the road.

That was a bit drama queeny. The photos are backed up. Somewhere. It'll just take me a few days to get back to them. But I just wanted to make sure that this recipe got out in time for the weekend. I do like to deliver on my chat.

So, I'll add photos next week. In the meantime...) -- Problem mitigated, thanks to the ever brilliant Babs. Now with photos included!

 

Pork Belly Moi Choi

Serves 10-12

Ingredients:

• 1kg pork belly
• ~500g salty mui choy (preserved mustard greens); AND ~500g sweet mui choy
• 10 big cloves of garlic, peeled
• 2 tablespoons cooking oil (sunflower or vegetable or rapeseed)
• 3 tablespoons dark soya sauce (I like Kikkoman and Pearl River Bridge)
• 3 tablespoons granulated white or brown sugar

Note on the pork belly: Try to get a medium-fatty piece. Too fatty and the whole thing just melts and flakes away into nothing too quickly. You do want solid pieces for presentation. Too lean and you'll need to cook it for more hours to get it to the right level of tenderness in the meat

 

Note on the mui choi: I've had friends ask me where I got mine, cos theirs "didn't taste right". I got these below from Loong Fung in London's Chinatown (the one photo I COULD access!), and they definitely tasted right, for me at least! It takes a bit of hunting, especially the sweet variety. Look in their pickled and dried vegetables and herbs section.

 

 

Directions:

Prepping the mui choi

• Soak the mui choi in a big basin of water. Leave standing for about 15 minutes. Drain the water and refill with fresh water. Repeat this process 2 more times. It's better to oversoak the mui choi and resalt it later, rather than have it be painfully kidney-cringe-salty in the pot.
• Rinse the mui choi thoroughly under running water, to get rid of sand and grit
• Dice the mui choi into ~1cm by 1cm sections
• Chop up the garlic roughly

 

 

Prepping the pork belly:

• Slice the pork belly into strips, then little slabs. Assuming you'e not some pre-schooler kitchen prodigy, the eventual pieces should be about the size and thickness of your 3 middle fingers held together. Sometimes your pork belly will come with a few ribs. Trim out the hard bones and use for soup or BBQ some other time. You can leave the cartilegy little bones in if you want. Sometimes your pork belly will come with a few sow nipples. You can decide if you want to keep them on or trim them off (Goz suggests making nipple chicharron... the perv...)

 

 

Putting it all together:

• Heat up a wok or a large chef's pan on the stove, at medium heat
• Sear the pork belly pieces on all sides for about 5 minutes, lightly browning the pork and rendering some of the fat. Do this in batches if necessary
• Remove the pork belly and set aside
• Add the cooking oil to the pan. Add 1-2 more tablespoons of oil if the pork belly is particularly lean
• Add the garlic to the pan, and fry for a couple of minutes, softening the garlic
• Add the chopped up moi choi and stir fry for ~15 minutes, making sure that everything is evenly coated with oil

 

 

• Transfer the mui choi and garlic into a large pot
• Place the pork belly on top of the bed of mui choi
• Sprinkle on the sugar and drizzle on the dark soya sauce
• Pour in boiling water until all of the pork is covered

 

 

• Slow cook on low heat for at least 3 hours. For the inaugural Plusixfive dinner the pork belly was a lean cut and they were proper outdoor reared pigs, so to get the texture I was happy with, I slowcooked everything for 6 hours, then slowcooked just the pork for an additional 2 hours. You want the pork to be super tender, holding together just long enough to make it to your mouth before it melts and falls apart. Fattier cuts will need less cooking time
• Taste. Add salt or some more dark soya sauce as necessary. The dish should be very savoury, but you should be able to taste the tinge of sweetness. The pork should also be a medium-dark brown from the dark soya sauce (some brands which I don't like leave a much wimpier colouring)
• Dish out into a bowl. It's prettier if the mui choy is below, and the pork is arranged on top. (I've taken to fishing out the pork carefully first in to a separate bowl, then scooping out the mui choi. This helps to keep the very soft pork belly pieces intact until you bring it to the table.)
• Serve with rice, or watery Teochew-style plain rice congee

 

 

This dish actually tastes better after sitting and reheating. If you make a big batch and somehow manage not to eat it all in one meal, freeze a bowl's worth in each freezer bag, and simply warm up in a pot before serving.

And now, the invitation to eat, in Hakka: Sit fun!

Plusixfive: The Making Of

Above: Goz's menu plan for the debut supperclub

 

What fun, and what an utter thrill. I won't say too much more about Plusixfive's debut dinner, except that we couldn't have asked for a better group of opening night guests. As for how the evening went, better you read the writeups and see the photos from the evening's guests, compiled at the end of this post, than have me blabber on.

I just wanted to share some glances from the afternoon's final prep session.

 

 

It was pretty calm in Goz's characterful flat when I got there. The tables had already been set, and all the major dishes had been cooked and prepped.

All except the surprise appetiser, kuih pie tee, a thin and crispy pastry tart shell filled with a spicy, sweet mixture of thinly sliced vegetables and prawns. A dish much loved by the Straits Chinese.

 

 

To make these delicate crispy batter shells from scratch is a heartbreaking, backbreaking, treacherous art, prone to breaking and burning and chipping and deflating at all points along the way. I couldn't believe Goz was going to attempt this at his very first supperclub. Ok who am I kidding, of course I can believe Goz would this for his first supperclub. The topic had been brought up in conversation with one of the evening's diners, and had become a point of bonding. There was no way Goz was not going to make kuih pie tee, really.

Goz's kuih pie tee recipe on the day was from Cooking for the President by Wee Eng Hwa, a recently-published monumental body of work that took 2 decades to compile, covering Singapore's culinary history and the stories of Ms Wee's own storied family. (I need to write more about this book in a separate post.) I reckon the book will serve Goz well for many supperclubs to come.

 

The key step to master (it seems to me) is coaxing the batter shell off the mould without breaking it. A question of minute timing and exacting technique.

 

Goz finds his groove.

 

 

And then we wait.

 

 

But not for long.

The buzzer sounds. People are early. In fact, the latest guests arrive bang on time. These people really want their Singapore food!

And so it begins.

 

Here's what they saw / ate / said:

Cinnamon and Truffle

Hollow Legs

Tamarind and Thyme

Gastronomy Domine

A Rather Unusual Chinaman

gourmet traveller

Khanna Commune

The Cork News

Life Beyond the Viewfinder

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Plusixfive's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences, and I run marketing and bookings for Plusixfive.

To Goz, On the Day of Plusixfive's Debut Dinner

Above: With some people, at some point you just need to draw a line in the sand.

 

Babs and I were kicking around the Middle East in the autumn of 2009. Because Goz had done a Syria-Jordan-Egypt trip before us, I pinged him asking for some recommendations.

I didn't know Goz very well at this point. I just knew he wasn't your average fellow because he decided to do his big Middle East trip (including Iran) alone, and that he regularly took on rather strange food projects like making apple noodles. (I still have no idea what the latter is). And that when it came to high jumping, he wasn't going to any medals, but boy did he have style.

 

 

All of the above still didn't prepare me for the string of emails that came from him as a response. Plenty of fabulous recommendations. Even more capital letters and exclamation marks. And when I (it would seem) failed to communicate adequate over-enthusiasm on certain points made, there were more emails, more capital letters, more punchy punctuation.

Oh, and a demand to see his name in big red letters on this blog as a thank you afterwards.

Babs and I eventually moved on from the Middle East, but the emails with Goz spasmodically continued. Mostly I think we argued about food. A certain posh eatery in San Sebastien, in particular. There were threats of unfriending, or at least I was later told.

The conversation continued when we got back to London. And escalated. We talked. Incessantly. (Actually maybe not, in reality. It just feels like it). About nostalgic Singapore food. About not so nostalgic Singapore food, the technical term for which I am not allowed to use. About restaurants in London. About restaurants everywhere else. About supperclubs. About todo lists for starting a supperclub. About foraging. About whether it was or was not appropriate for one to eat at NOMA without one's partner. About old school chinese calenders. About ice-shavers. About starting a heavy metal band. About shit hot young chefs. About our friends who have crushes on them. About Twitter. About waterbaths. About the appropriate uses of hashtags (#damnifiknow). About giant picnics involving newspapers and banana leaves.

And before you know it, I find myself cooking a "bonus dish" at 2am on Debut Day of Goz's Singapore supperclub +65 / Plusixfive.

It's a long time and distance since that desert in Wadi Rum, Jordan. (We didn't forget about that big red thank you, dude. We were just saving its display for a special occasion.) If anything, I think my affection for the madness that is Goz has moved closer to setting in stone than shifting in the sand.

So Goz, here's to the start of something today. And the many more capital letters and exclamation marks to come after.

 

Above: We Love Goz -- The Making Of.

Introducing Plusixfive, A Singapore Supperclub in London

Above: Testing a few Plusixfive dishes. Gozgozgoz (left in the top photo, in pink shirt) makes a mighty fine achar (pickles) and satay from scratch. But hey, don't take my word for it. Try it for yourselves.

 

After months of plotting, recipe tasting and testing, cajoling and calendar tetris, I am absolutely delighted to invite you to the debut dinner of +(65) / Plusixfive, London's first Singapore-themed supperclub.

(At least I think it's the first. I'd really like to believe that if there were already one in town I'd have sniffed out the sambal belacan by now...)

Plusixfive is a labour of love and culinary madness birthed by my dear friend and fellow food geek Gozgozgoz. Goz is apparently known by the Ginger Pig guys down at Borough Market by name and by the weirdness of his requests. When he couldn't find a platter large enough for his Chinese New Year yu sheng (raw fish prosperity salad) he turned his entire dining table into a platter by shrink wrapping it. You get the idea.

Goz and I bond over our shared anxiety to learn the quickly disappearing arts of making our Singapore heritage dishes and snacks from scratch, like bak kwa, kway pie tee, and ang chow to name a few. I've been told that when Goz and I get deep into a natter, only 20% of our food-nerd babble is understandable to nice normal people. So it's my pleasure and honour to help Goz out with his new endeavour at front of house, and possibly with some kitchen-monkeying if needed.

And did I mention that he makes a bloody marvelous braised duck?

But hell, don't take my word for it. Come see and eat for yourselves LAH.

 

What's cooking?: Goz will confirm the menu closer to the date, but he's currently thinking ox cheek rendang, lor ahrk (Teochew braised duck) and sambal stingray (skate), among others. We'll be serving dinner family style at 1 table.

When: Sunday 29 May dinner (don't worry, Monday's a bank holiday!)

Where: Goz's flat in Islington

Suggested donation: £25 per person, BYOB

More details about +(65) / Plusixfive here and May 29's dinner here.

If you'd like to join us, please get in touch and let me know how many spaces you would like, and if you have any food allergies. Email plusixfive@gmail.com

We look forward to hosting you!

Essex, UK: Supper Clubbing at Food Urchin's

 

It's 7pm on a Saturday as our train doors slide open. A couple are propping up their rather crumply, either very ill, or very drunk, lady friend between them.

At 7pm.

Welcome to Essex.

I look up, and face a ludicrously bright yellow orb. Not Dan's head -- don't be rude! It's a full moon. A supermoon. A howling good omen for the at-home debut of the Food Urchin's supperclub.

I'd been following both Danny Kingston's very humourous Food Urchin blog (I particularly love the posts about his grandmother) as well as London's mushrooming supperclub scene from afar during our 15 months of backpacking. Now that I'm back in London, I have a long list of London foodies and supperclubs I'd love to meet, try, and get properly acquainted with. I figured my first proper supperclub foray in the UK might as well be with the guy who was game enough to randomly meet me for lunch near work one day, and generous enough to show me his falafel haunt at Whitecross market -- the best falafel I've had in a while.

And so on this lovely spring evening, Babs, our startup partner Evie and I find ourself in the good hands of the Food Urchins -- Danny the chef, and his two lovely helpers, wife Hollie and sister Tori. Here's Mrs Food Urchin slicing up some ludicruously pro looking homemade bread.

 

 

They cleared out their front room to seat a table of 6 and a table of 3. The kitchen's in the back, which has another alcove that sits another table of 7 (I think). We got the table of 3, which was less social that I had hoped for, but it's our own silly fault for getting lost and showing up late. Next time I'll specifically request to be seated at a "meet some stranger foodies" table though. The lovely Kavey of Kavey Eats was in da house, however, and it was nice to chat with her again and eavesdrop on some of her funny stories (sorry Kavey but I'd already been in deep business discussions with Babs and Evie all afternoon and we were all hungry for a diversion!)

 

 

Another shot of the lovely bread before we get into the food proper.

 

 

Starters: Grilled mackeral with spring onions, potato, shreds of wild garlic and a very nutty calcot sauce. I love mackeral, so this was an easy sell for me. The calcot sauce in particular I thought was sophisticated enough to rival a good restaurant's offer.

 

 

Mains: A citrus chicken stew that embodied spring, with its light lemony taste and gorgeously sweet and fresh peas and broadbeans and herbs. We had mixed reactions to this one. Babs was a fan. Evie I think felt it wasn't yet spring (i.e. warm) enough for her to really get into this spring dish. I really liked the taste of the stew but for whatever reason pictured it sitting better as a sunshiny lunch dish especially if I was home sick and trying to perk myself up, rather than for a Saturday night dinner. Funny, that. I'm always happy to eat dinner leftovers for breakfast -- sometimes to Bab's odd looks -- but I have a harder time eating breakfast or what I consider to be lunch fare later in the day.

(Note: All the photos in the rest of this post were taken by Babs)

 

 

Palette cleanser: Blood orange and rosemary jelly. Very clah-ssy. Very very yum.

 

 

Dessert: A choice of rhubarb and stem ginger crumble, or double chocolate cheesecake. OBVIOUSLY we were going to go for both (thanks Dan for indulging!). The rhubarb -- stems kept intact rather than blended -- had a good tart bite. But what really stole the show for me was the double chocolate cheesecake. Rich, not too sweet, and a hint of savoury in the base. HOO-WAH!

 

 

Kind Mr Kingston offered to drive us back to the train station for our return to London town, but we insisted on walking -- mostly because the very generous portions meant that we really needed a 15 minute waddle in the fresh air and moonlight to make sure that the meal settled evenly into the crevices of our guts.

I hope this supperclub continues. And that supperclubs at large continue. Well executed food at reasonable prices is one thing. What really leaves you giddy and giggly at the end of the night is the sense of community. After dinner Kavey sold a few posh chocolate easter eggs to raise funds for Japan quake victims, and I swapped a jar of homemade rhubarb sambal (recipe to come) for a clump of Dan's wild garlic, pulled from his garden, bulbs, roots, soil, a few earthworms et al. Edible "sand" and "soil" by the likes of Fat Duck and Noma respectively might be considered better than the real thing, but hey, sometimes there's something to be said for the real thing.

 

Click on the logo below to keep track of Food Urchin Supperclub's upcoming events.

Disclosure: I'm the founder of Edible Experiences. Unless otherwise stated, I attend events as a paying guest.

Keeno for Greeno

Above: My best girls call me Big Mack, so I should bloody act like it, shouldn't I...

 

I'm not one for New Year Resolutions. But this week I decided I would make one.

This year I resolve to be more thick skinned.

Those who know me well might snigger. Exactly how much more shameless is she planning to be, they wonder.

The thing is, the gang and I are at Gold Mine on Monday night, and I just about literally bump into Mat Follas. 2009 Masterchef UK winner. Owner of The Wild Garlic in Beanminster, Dorset. Even with roast duck, and pork belly fried with garlic and dark soya sauce on the brain, I twigged enough to do a double take, and ask myself, "Is that who I think it is? How many handsome brawny beardy baldies can there be in 1 city?"

So? Did I lean over and say "Sorry to bother you, but you look a lot like the chef Mat Follas. If you are, I just wanted to say hello and I'm delighted to meet you and I can't wait to try your food and foraging classes. If you're not, my apologies, and please enjoy your dinner"?

No. I did not. Why? Because I am a thin-skinned idiot, that's why. Well I am putting a stop to this nonsense. Right now.

So. On that note, I will now unashamedly announce that I am a Ben Greeno keeno.

 

Above: The very fresh-faced Ben Greeno is cool, calm and confident prepping dinner for 8 with just 30 minutes to go. He gets nervy only when I point the camera at him.

 

Ben Greeno, who grew up in Newcastle, is an alum of Sat Bains, the growing David Chang-Momofuko empire, and NOMA. He decided to do a long transit in London last year, and has been cooking in various formats such as supperclubs and pop up dinners, collaborating with an eco-system of partners like the wine merchant Bottle Apostle (see reviews by Eat Like a Girl and An American in London), luxury boutique hotel The Hempel and whiskey makers Glenfiddich.

I'd heard of him for a few months before I met him. London food bloggers, The New York Times and my Singapore mafia alike were singing his praises like a Harlem church choir after eating his food at his various gigs around London. In the closing months of last year Ben was getting to be such a hot ticket that I knew of acquaintances who squabbled because of who did or did not manage to get a reservation with him, and who did or did not get invited to that table. (What a field day it would've been for the likes of Oscar Wilde, Jane Austen or F. Scott Fitzgerald.)

Then in one of those plot twists where fact is stranger than foodie fiction, I wound up cooking for Ben before he cooked for me. More on that in a later post, but sufficed to say it was the most nerve-wracking batch of Singapore Hainanese chicken rice I'd ever made in my ambitious but relatively short history of kitchen muppetry.

But he was gracious and enthusiastic, and -- a common trait among my favourite people -- understated, very chilled out, but clearly switched on. And (I'm a sucker for this) uber-geeky about produce. Which shined through when he lauded the cauliflower at The Gramercy Tavern in New York. When's the last time you shared a rave about cauliflower?

Good omen for his cooking, I thought.

My own evening of Grub ala Greeno finally rolled around, where my hunch got confirmed.

We opened with Jerusalem artichokes, brown butter and hazelnuts. Beyond mentioning the pleasant balance of sweet and savoury nuttiness of the dish, I won't wax much more lyrical about this. I will say that the dish showed a very healthy respect for a usually unsexy winter vegetable.

 

 

The 2nd course was mackeral with grilled cucumber and pickled kohlrabi (1st photo at the top). Babs and I are both mackeral fiends so I was really looking forward to this dish. The fish (Norwegian) was raw and in macho-sized chunks. If it was cured it was very subtle. But it was gorgeously fresh and sweet and rich with its own fish oils. The cucumber (I hope I remember this right) combines a grill-blackened outer skin with a raw cucumber ball on the inside, which gives a great combination of smokiness and crisp crunchiness without the yucky mush of cooked cucumber. The kohlrabi -- I'd developed a taste for it in Hanoi -- was lovely and delicate and cut the oils of the fish without negating its luxuriant feel.

Next up is what I consider Ben's answer to Heston Blumenthal's bacon and eggs ice-cream -- with much less hocus pocus but no less magic. This was a slow cooked egg, with pig-cheek bacon, and brussel sprouts, with a few well placed bread bits. A deceivingly simple looking "breakfast", but oh so decadent once you tuck in because of the custardy egg and the very bitey bacon. How do we find our way back to hardboiled eggs after this, I wonder.

 

 

A pre-dinner sneak peek at the bacon being fried.

 

 

Babs couldn't stop talking about this next dish for a couple of days after -- never-so-tender sous vide lamb rump and belly, pickled walnuts (I wonder if these are from his foraged August batch), and carrots. In particular, a segment of very pretty, almost tie-dye purple haze carrot.

 

 

And now onto the desserts. Yes. Plural. First, roast apple, chunky financier crumbs, and malt. Yummy, but almost too subtle a blend of tastes to be mindblowing.

 

 

And to finish, chocolate, and broken up pistachios and very dainty and elegant rose-flavoured meringues. Just phenomenal. I'd never given much thought to meringues. That might change now.

 

 

Tummies filled and diners delighted, Ben joins the group for drinks and a lot of chat into the wee hours. It's hazy now what topics we covered. The only crystal clear memory amid the fog of red wine, port and a myriad of whiskies is more produce geekery, when I'm babbling on to him about my favourite watercress grower in London and he's showing me photos of buds and bulbs of a well known fruit farm's early vegetable-growing efforts on his phone.

There are plenty of skilled chefs out there, but how often is it that one of them catches your attention because they show signs of a new, distinct, personal and identifiable style? I think of Ben Greeno's food as... naked. But there's naked and there's naked. I'm thinking lush naked like the best of Ruben's last paintings. I'm almost thinking an innocent, pre-paradise-lost Adam and Eve naked. There are sauces and garnishes and combinations of ingredients, sure. But it's more alchemy than masks or clothes or duvets.

I wasn't drinking when I wrote that last paragraph, I promise. Though it's potentially worrying that I write like that sober.

At any rate, if it's piqued your curiosity, at least, I suggest you try his food for yourself and come to a better description than me. You can keep track of his upcoming gigs on his blog and twitter feed.

In the meantime, many many thanks to Jas & Dom who organised a gig for Greeno at theirs.