Worst Meal EVER - Restaurant Marcos Barcelona

So the Hussyband and I have just gotten back from his annual birthday trip, we had lots of amazing meals, a few too many jamon baguettes, and one meal that was so bad we actually left as it made us ill just looking at it.

Friday night we were wandering around the University area of Barcelona, and came across a little restaurant with some nice looking outside tables. It was still early, only 9pm (that is early for dinner in Spain!) Now here we ignored one of what is normally our cardinal rules, we were going to eat in a restaurant that advertised it had an English menu. 

But we hadn't had much for lunch at the beach that day so were famished. We elected to eat inside as there were a few smokers outside....and this is where our trouble starts.

Inside we order a nice bottle of Albariño, Hussy went for a start of beef carpacio, and I went for the calamari. They placed starter plates out for us to share...they were dirty. They we noticed strange red floaters in our white wine. OK.

His beef was covered in so much Parmesan you could not tell what the meat looked like, the condiments container have a couple of millimetres of dust bunnies in the bottom of it so we ignored using them. My calamari came out about 10 mins later - swimming. No, it wasn't still alive, it was swimming in oil as they had obviously not gotten the fryer hot enough before cooking the dish, so it had absorbed the equivalent of the Mediterranean Sea that was leaking out through the paper doilies conveniently hiding another dirty plate.

By this stage we were getting worried, and queasy. Five minutes later our mains came out....Hussybands' was first - hake in a basque specialty sauce. The fish was grey. The sauce was grey. The potatoes were grey. The white asparagus that is not even in season was grey. The clams were grey and more withered than a nuns clitoris. Winter days in London are less grey than this dish was...and Hussybands' face was quickly turning puce to match.

Then out came my lobster and monkfish. The lobster should have been thrown back it was so small - i have seen prawns bigger. The monkfish had been battered and deep fried. It was all swimming in an oily, luminous yellow, gelatinous sauce. I took one look and gagged. How could you do that to monkfish?!?!?!?! IT IS INHUMANE!

We sculled our wine. Called over the waiter, advised him we were not staying as we felt ill (well we did! and we would have been if we had eaten that lot!), paid the complete bill (I am a softie) and left. Quickly.

The thought of food by then was making us ill, so we did the only thing we could do at this stage....we went and consumed our calories for the night via alcohol.

Where not to eat in Barcelona:
Restaurant Marcos
Carrer Disputacio 172, E-08011 Barcelona

Drunken Burgers at MEATmarket

Now I should start by saying the burgers were not drunken last night, @Sushi_Junki and I were!

What started out innocently enough at Cellar Door, a typical Friday really, a few (too many) margaritas, a bottle of champagne and some nuts, saw us stumbling out onto the street i desperate need of carbs, fried food and silliness. 

 @Sushi_Junki swore she had a better place than Byron Burger in mind, so we stumbled up to Covent Garden, and into MEATheaven at MEATmarket. I placed myself in SJ's more than capable hands and let her order. 
Quickly our dinner was in front of us - Dead Hippy Burgers (2 beef patties, lettuce, cheese, pickles, minced onions and Dead Hippy Sauce*). The burgers were divine. Perfectly cooked medium rare beef oozing with flavour, soft but stable buns (nothing worse than a bun that falls apart in your hands!), pickles that were crisp and tangy. Only thing I would want to add is beetroot - but that is the Aussie in me where all burgers have to have a few slices of vinegared beetroot to slide and drip down your arms. I would like to thank my stunt woman SJ for modelling the burger so gracefully!

The sides that adorned our tray were the most amazing crispy fries (which we gently bathed in a combo of tomato sauce and mustard - so glad we were in agreement on that combo), jalapenos poppaz stuffed with cheese, dipped in breadcrumbs with a sour cream and chive dipping sauce blew my mind and mouth. Just the right amount of heat to have you coming back for more if only there was room!

To drink we had Hard Shakes. Bourbon and maple syrup thickshakes that reminded me of what my first sip of a Maccas thickshake was like when I was a young 'un, but these were oh so much better! They also have a rum and vanilla version that I may have to go back and try just for comparison. 

Now after so much booze already, did we REALLY need Hard Shakes? HELL YES WE DID! We needed them so much we ended up having one with our burgers, then another for desert. This was probably a bad idea, but you never know a bad idea until it bites you on the ass the next morning and you have to bat it down with sweet tea and Nurofen.

I will definitely be back, next time with the Hussyband and probably The Nieces in tow. Meanwhile I will sit hit, nursing my tea and just be joyful that my hangover isn't worse than it is!

*Note: No hippies were killed in the making of the sauce, or so I was assured at the time.

MEATmarket
The Deck
Jubilee Market Hall
Tavistock Street
Covent Garden
London | WC2E 8BE
Twitter: @MEATmarketUK

Granger & Co

I have been meaning to get to Granger and Co since it opened late last year, but horrid traffic aborted my first attempt, and then sheer apathy at the thought from travelling from South East London to West London for a breakfast queue.

Recently we moved from the pad in Charlton, back to the Mother-In-Laws (MILs) in Ealing to save money to buy a place of our own and stop paying other peoples mortgages. This means lots of savings, but minimal cooking (I think the slow cooker and bbq are going to really earn their keep over the next 12 months!)

This past weekend, following a lovely housewarming soiree by the Luscious Lyons in Bow Quarter, I was driving through a just waking London and decided a side trip was on the cards. Notting Hill wasn’t THAT far out of way, and a sudden craving for ricotta hot cakes had taken hold of me.

So, TomTom set, Hussyband struggling to stay awake in the shotgun position I was off. Twenty five minutes later I pulled into one of the few non-residents parking places on Westbourne Grove (£2/hour with a maximum stay of two hours) and walking the half a block to the restaurant.

I had been warned that the queues tend to snake around the corner on weekends, but with the luck of the Irish, there was only one couple ahead of us when we arrived just after 9.30am. We were quickly seated and had grabbed a selection of Sunday trash reading on the way so settled in to our seats and ordered drinks.

The Rare Tea Company breakfast tea (£3) was just what the doctor ordered and I demolished it quite quickly. Hussyband struggled a bit the signature hot chocolate (£3.50), deeming that effort required to stir the melted choc bits in the bottom of the glass into the milk too much for that time of morning.

Now the big dilemma of the day. Sweetcorn Fritters vs Ricotta Hot Cakes. It wanted SOMETHING savoury, so decided to have a "starter" of the Soft-boiled Cotswold Legbar Eggs and Buttered Sourdough Soldiers (£5.50) settled the rumblings in my tummy and had Hussy flinching bits left right and centre. They were requested to come out as they were ready - and were delivered to the table within 10 minutes of the order being placed.

Hussyband was a little hungover and tired, as you would be if you could drink like him! So there was only one breakfast option for him - The Full Aussie Breakfast - scrambled organic eggs, sourdough toast, bacon, roast tomato and chipolatas - and sans mushrooms for him - (£13.50). The extra chipolatas were appreciated to replace the mushies, and he declared the meal the perfect cure. I am curious though, the scrambled eggs come out in a perfect mound, but look more microwave scrambled than pan scrambled, the sides are perfectly smooth and the eggieness quite solid, as opposed to what I would normally see in a scramble. No pics - he ate too fast!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my Ricotta Hotcakes with Banana and Honeycomb Butter (£11.00) arrived and I was taken back to Darlinghurst, Sydney circa 1994.

I had stumbled out of a the Mardi Gras dance party and spent a few hours sitting in the gutter outside the Flinders Hotel with the other dregs of the party humanity. Not ready (or able) to sleep yet, but starting to feel the need for sustenance, a few semi-able bodied amongst us piled into cabs to head to Bills - the original (and I think still the best). Plates piled high with these delicious morsels revived and sustained us through the rest of the day of dancing and recovering.

Back in London 2012, they still please me with their plump lightness. The butter melting rivulets of happy badness down to the pond of maple syrup (of course I had to use the whole little jug!) Bliss.
Dragging myself back to reality, we paid the cheque quickly and headed back home before a post-breakfast food coma took hold.

On leaving the restaurant, the queue was indeed up the street and around the corner with strollers and toddlers strewn across the pavement at the feet of parents who were paying more attention to their reflections than their children’s safety - we had obviously arrived (and escaped) at the right time.

Granger & Co
175 Westbourne Grove
London W11 2SB
7am-11pm Mon-Sat (last orders 10.30pm)
8am-10pm Sun (last orders 9.30pm)
Warning: they do not take bookings

Francapades - London to Le Havre

At butt fuck early on a Saturday morning, Hussyband and I loaded up Rhonda the Randy Honda for our first European Roadtrip. Cold Chisel blared as we zoomed down a deserted M20 at 4.30am - a time meant for clubbers to be stumbling home and bakers to be turning our fresh loaves of bread, not for being awake and driving a car down the coast!

The train terminal at Folkestone is pretty much bereft of anything resembling decent food, so a cuppa tea in a styrofoam cup was breakfast. Wish we had eaten more, as there was a delay on the trains and we sat out on the departure paddock for over an hour until given the OK to board our train.

Crossing the Channel by train though could not be easier, or faster, as in 25mins we were on the other side of the water and heading towards Le Havre. Following the coast, we drove through coastal villages and hamlets, stopping for a croque monsieur to take the edge off our hunger and adding to my caffeine consumption with a Red Bull and an espresso. 

Our first stop of the trip is Le Havre, where we stayed at the Novotel Hotel (along with the Scottish Womens Football team much to Hussybands delight!) After a soak in the bath and a nanna-nap we headed off in search of dinner armed with some suggestions of the concierge....and then promptly ended up somewhere else as we got lost.

Finding a small bistro opposite the marina, the menu looked tempting so we headed into "Restaurant La Voile Bleue" for a drink or two and to have an early dinner. 

Hussyband started with a bottle of Pelforth Brune, while I went for a rum punch that packed more than a wallop on my tired body. With a bowl of beer snacks, we chatted to the owner via her son who was recently returned from 12 months in Oz, and made our selections.

First course of the evening was a shared seafood platter piled high with plump prawns, oysters, a whole crab, aioli, lemons and the most god awful item of seafood I have ever tried - bulots. These puppies were so not good on the not good scale of things that Hussyband and I managed one each. 

Thankfully there was booze to wash it down with. We had to wash it down, a lot.

Moving onto our mains, Hussyband went for the duck breast with peppercorn sauce, it was perfectly cooked, just rare in the middle, crisp skin, and the sauce was just peppery enough not to overwhelm the flesh. Of course it came with the obligatory bistro sides of salad and frites....does anyone do frites better than the French? I have yet to find out, but wow if they do....

My main was very very naughty - i went for the foie gras burger, with blood rare beef, a huge hunk of tomato and mayo...yes, like foie gras needs any more fat added to it, but the French added saffron mayo...and it was FABULOUS. I washed it down with a nice big glass or two of Blaye Cotes de Bordeaux Le Verre.

Now by this stage of the evening I was struggling to keep my eyes open, even though it was only about 9am (the alarm had gone off at 4am, and I had driven a loooong way) so we headed back to the hotel for a nightcap and bed.

La Voile Bleue

Boulevard Albert 1er, 76600 Le Havre, France

Phone : 02 3 5 22 9

Mains: €15-30

Pros: price, staff, wine list, rum selection

Cons: That I didn't get to eat desert!

Tapas Brindisa Borough Market

Ever since I moved to London just over 2 years ago, I have been trying to go to Brindisa at Borough Market. Unfortunately, as they never take advance bookings, you have to rock up and hope for the best, and until recently, the best was never in my favour with waits of up to and over 2 hours for a table even just for Hussyband and myself. To which I usually respond with a polite “sod that” and wander off elsewhere in search of victuals.

The other week I was meeting up with fellow expat Mrs_Mups for a quick lunch while she was passing through the area, it is rare for me to take a lunch break at work, normally I just heat up one of the boring soups and crack on with my day at the desk, gazing mournfully at the insipid sunlight London normally has on offer this time of year. But, on a gorgeous clear late winter day, I ventured out. Out into the big bad world of London Bridge.

Now, maybe it was the weather, or the fact it was the first day of spring, maybe it was because I was showing a disgraceful amount of cleavage, or just that the Food Deities were looking out for me, but I wandered in the door of Brindisa and oh my goodness gracious me, I got a table for 2 straight away!

Messaging Mrs_Mups were I was, I started to have food envy very quickly at the plates being delivered quickly to the tables around me. On MM’s arrival, we quickly ordered a couple of plates to share and settled in for some girlie gossip (of which I cannot divulge the topics as what goes on in GirlieGossip stays between the girls!)

Being good little construction employees, I had a diet coke, whilst MM went for a lemonade, but the wine list was very tempting, and quite affordable.

We started off with a bowl of plump Gordal Olives with oregano and orange (£3.50) – olives and me have had a love/hate relationship over the years, but the big green juicy ones from Spain have been love/love ever since I first had them when we moved over here.

Next up was a Ham Selection (£19.50) – now, paying that much money, for a few slices of hams, did have me a little worried, but the serving was generous, the meats (serrano, iberico and carved iberico de bellota) meaty and hammy, and the bread and olive oil were both chewy and unctuous in turn.

Needing something a bit more substantial we for one of the Cocina De Mercado – house specialities at London Bridge. The Huevos Rotos (£5.50) grabbed both of us by the heartstrings and did not disappoint. Just fried eggs broken over pan fried potatoes and iberico pork sobrasada had us reaching for any leftover bread we could lay our hands on to mops up the juices.

We finished off with a cheese course, of course. Deep Fried Monte Enebro (£7.60) – handmade goats cheese with orange blossom honey and crispy beetroot. At this point we had to ask for more bread, three times, but it finaly came and was much needed to eat the cheese and honey with. The beetroot chips were very moorish – almost reminiscent of bacon bits but so much better.

Just time for quick kisses on cheeks before we both rushed back to our respective offices with full bellies, sated appetites and happy hearts.

Tapas Brindisa
18-20 Southwark St
London SE1 1TJ
Tel: 020 7357 8880

Nobu - A Birthdaversary Extravaganza

So last month I hit the big 4-0, forty, or XL. I find the roman numeral for 40 the funniest as the past few months I have been on a diet that is making me less XL every week! 18kgs down in 3 months, although to be honest, October while I still had a loss, it was only a small loss of 3 kgs as I had lots of fun with people I love eating and drinking things I have missed.

One thing about this diet, is when I do treat myself, I dont want junk food (most of the time) I crave  clean simple flavours and the best produce I can get my hands on.

Since we got married on my birthday, we were also celebrating our 4th wedding anniversary. Traditionally, the 4th anniversary is celebrated with fruit and flowers - thinking outside the box, I gave Hussyband a box of 24 mixed bitters (beers), as hops are a fruit and therefore meet the criteria for the year.

My actual birthday started brunch in Blackheath with 4 gorgeous women and a sexy little man, Ruth (and Pickle), Caroline (and Livsie), and Nicole and I took over a corner of cafe and scoffed eggs royale, litres of tea, and a slice of birthday brownie to share between 5 (Ethan isnt allowed any yet!)

Later that day I met up with the Hussyband for cocktails on the top floor of the Park Lane Hilton for sunset cocktails overlooking the city that is now our home, because finally I think of London as home (for now). The views from the cocktail bar are lovely and as the sky turned from pale blue to dusky pink we sipped our drinks and reminisced the last 4 years and how far we have traveled.

Walking in to Nobu we mounted the stairs and were immediately seated at a window overlooking the fairy lights outside. The chef came out and when asked what he recommended for the evening asked if we would let him make the choices, so of course we said yes and I got a night without making choices while we dined omakase (chef's choice).

All we had to do was pick our drinks, and being the lushes that we are we went for cold crisp bottles of Kirin Iciban and Ongakashu Sake (10 years old, semi-dry, smooth and delicate and apparently aged to the sound of soothing music!) Meanwhile, back at the ranch, dinner started to arrive!

Salmon Tartar with Caviar, this has a lovely wasabi "soup" and was zingy, fresh and oh so tasty.

Scallop and Ponzu plate

Langoustine with Red Chilli Shiso Salsa - the dipping sauce in the bottom was so good I drank the dregs!

Beef Tenderloin Tataki Onion Ponzu and Garlic Chips - tender lush beef was offset beautifully by the crisp garlic chips

Scallop, Shitake Mushroom and Truffle Sauce - this course was torture for me. Hussyband had gone to the loo and it sat in front of me for 4-5mins until he came back, surrounding me in the deep woody scent of the forest floor.

Black Cod with Miso - a signature dish that no many how many times I have eaten a version of around the world they all pale in comparison. It was dense but light, beautifully crusted on the outside but rare on the inside....a happy place.

Pumpkin Miso Soup - warm, smokey and full of goodness.

Mixed Sushi Plate - we groaned when we saw this, perfect sushi, but oh so full!

Suntory Whiskey Ice Cappucino - smooth and crunchy and boozey all in one little cup!

Chocolate Spring Rolls - these little fellas were not on the menu, but we heard the table next to us request them and of course I had to jump on the bandwagon! Dark chocolate oozing as you crunch through the spring roll, served with a raspberry and passion fruit dipping sauce.

Perfect end to a perfect dinner! OPAI KAMPAI!

We wandered over to Soho for a few final drinks, and as we stumbled towards the station all I could think about was how very lucky I am.

Fifteen Cornwall

So a couple of weeks back, the Hussyband and I went on a Haggis Adventures bus trip for 5 days through Devon and Cornwall. This was a bare bones trip, with a very comfortable bus and tour guide, and staying in backpacker hostels (I will not get started on my hatred on the accommodation part of the trip.) Being that we were being forced to stay in dorm rooms, I rightly justified that we could afford to go to a Really Nice Dinner (TM). And considering we would be staying in Newquay for 2 nights, where better to go that to Fifteen Cornwall for a splash up dinner...(well nowhere really, Padstein was too far away!)

My original attempts at booking seemed to have gone seamlessly, via Toptable, but less than a week before departure I get a rather distressing phone call. Our reservation had been cancelled. Strike a scene of hair pulling, wailing and pounding of my head against a wall, ok a bit dramatic. On calling Fifteen I was told that I would only be able to get a table at 6pm or 9pm - too early to ensure we had arrived on the bus, and too late for this hungry little camper who would normally eat by 8pm and settled into drinking. Following a tweet, the gorgeous Jo from the Fifteen Marketing Team, came to our rescue and got us a table...HUZZAH!

So after a day crossing Dartmoor, patting ponies, climbing waterfalls and trying not to kill an idiot boy from the 'Gong up the back of the bus, we rocked into Newquay and dumped our gear at the hostel, showered, frocked up into a dress (shocking the backpackers) and slapping on the spack filler, we grabbed a cocktail and sat outside the bar of our hostel enjoying the view (which was awesome I will admit).

Heading over to Watergate Bay, we wanted to check out The Beach Hut for a pre-dinner cocktail and to watch the sunset and surfers. What a view. Words cant describe, so just look at this and wish that every day ended with a view as chilled as this.

Heading upstairs to Fifteen for our reservation, we were greeted by friendly helpful staff, an amazing view, and a well decorated interior - all pinks and browns...I love pink bits!

Started off with some more cocktails - Fifteens Amazing Dry Martini (Skyy Vodka stirred down with a touch of Noilly Prat, some orange bitters and a twist of lemon or mammoth olive) for Hussyband, and a Cider Car (Somerset 10yo cider brandy shaken with Cointreau & lemon) for me in honor of being in Scrumpy territory.

Now, the menu at Fifteen changes daily, and is to reflect the very best seasonal produce available, with at least 80% of this produce sourced from Cornwall. So I was excited to see what was going to be on offer for our visit.

Once seated at our table, we were presented with a wooden platter of Baker Tom’s bread baked daily and the best Puglian green olives. The bread was crusty with a hint of sweetness, and the olives were plump, juicy and full of bite.

First up "to get us started" (according to the menu) was a Crostini of Cornish mackerel ‘in carpione’ with pickled chard and St Austell bay mussels. Never having been a fan of oily fish, I had not tried mackerel before (that and it isn't hugely prevalent in Oz) - and I was brave, and surprised. My mouth was filled with flavor, it was fishy, but not in an in your  face kind of way, and the mussels and pickled chard offset it perfectly. Nom nom. More please?

From here on, we had to pick, luckily Hussyband is easily swayed, so we got one of each for the insalata and primi courses and "shared". Also with luck - we have very different likes and dislikes, so while we go to try each dish, we also got to hog the ones we liked best.

Insalata of juicy Italian flat white peach, mozzarella di bufala, Buttervilla’s funky leaves and aged balsamic  - now to me funky leaves means that they will either dance on my palate or smell like a pair of footballers socks. Thankfully it was the former and not the latter! This salad was light, with the peach, mozzarella and balsamic coming together in a way that I would not have expected. Sorry for the over exposed pic...but you get the idea!

Bresaola della Valtellina, Newlina’s green beans, micro leaves with thyme and mustard dressing - Hussyband the Carnivore was thrilled with this, salad, with meat. I found the dressing to die for and wanted to lick the plate. Hussyband beat me to it. He is a tramp and gets his tongue out whenever he can I am afraid.

Of the primi's Hussyband's favorite was the lightest potato gnocchi with Angus oxtail ragu and horseradish gremolata, I had to tear the plate away from him to try the lovely slow cooked meat sauce, with pillows of potato-y goodness, and the gremolata was just strong enough to give the back of my nasal passage an ushiro mawashi geri (a back kick for the non-martial arts minded among you) as it slid down my throat.

For me, the aged carnaroli risotto of girolle mushrooms, tarragon and mature pecorino ticked all the boxes. Coated the ribs, smelled earthy and sweet, with a good grating of pecorini to tart it up. I could quite happily curl up in front of a fire and devour a huge bowl of this on a cold winters night. Just what the doctor would order considering how London's weather is now turning!!

Onto the mains, and this is where we had a spot of trouble. 2 people. 4 mains. How to choose?

I ended up picking the Crispy fillet of line caught sea bass, with herby Charlotte potatoes, purple sprouting broccoli and the best salsa verde. The skin was crispy and perfectly seasoned, with the salsa verde giving a lovely herbacious bite to it. The potatoes, just lush, but the broccoli just looked like normal broccoli (tasted great anyway).

Hussyband being the meat loving caveman that he is, went for the Roast fillet of Angus beef, borlotti beans, ruby chard and a rosemary and anchovy dressing. The meat was well cooked and bloody (as it should be!) I did not get to try any of his vegetables, as by the time I got my nose out of my own plate, he had scoffed everything but the meat - he always leaves the best to last, whereas I prefer to have a bit of everything on my fork at once.

The dishes we passed on, with difficulty, were the Pan fried Cornish brill, beautifully dressed fregola with heritage tomatoes and basil pesto and the Rotolo di patate (baked potato, spinach and ricotta roll), fagioli in umido and Parmigiano Reggiano.

By this stage, our stomachs were starting to strain at our waist bands, but we forced ourselves to share the best polka raspberry and vanilla mousse, creamy mascarpone and summer fruits from the Dolci e Formaggi selection. It was tart, sweet, in your face, innocent and debauched all rolled into one plate. If I could have taken some back to the hostel, our bunk mates would not have gotten any sleep. Yes, I loved it. Bonus brownie points: it has pink and purple bits, and that the purple bit was a pretty flower. Yes, girlie girl moment. Get over it.

Deserts that we passed on, were  the Amazing Amedei ‘No.9’ chocolate truffle tart, chocolate and chilli sorbet and frozen Muscat grapes, and the Formaggi: Stichelton, Driftwood and Old Winchester with walnut and date bread and Fifteen’s fantastic fruity chutney.



No room for coffee, we waddled out of there stuffed, satiated and satisfied that our contribution to the Foundations coffers was worth every cent.

Tasting Menu at £55 per person. Wine pairings optional at £42 per person (we didnt).






Fifteen Cornwall
On the Beach
Watergate Bay
Cornwall
TR8 4AA

T: 01637 861000

Oyster Shucking and Dinner at Le Cafe Anglais

Last week, my trusty foodie sidekick Kanga_Rue and I headed to Le Cafe Anglais in sunny West London just near Bayswater tube for an instructional afternoon as to how to shuck our own oysters. I got to the restaurant just as the boys from Wright Bros Oyster and Porter House at Borough Market were setting up for the impending hoard of hungry mollusk lovers.

Finding us a seat at one of the few tables I waited patiently for Kanga, damned the London Tube and its ability to slow our scoffing down! The crowd was building and I caved to mental peer group pressure and went to have a sneaky sample.

There were four types of oysters on the menu today - Scottish, Irish, English and French. The offerings for topping them were simple and classic - wedges of lemon, red wine vinegar with shallots and also red and/or green Tabasco.

I found the Scottish to be gorgeously meaty, but very salty. The Irish just slid down my throat with barely a quiver of complaint at their fate. The English had quite a brittle shell which I had to pick away from on occasion. And the French (which I had been warned were the saltiest) were actually quite delicate and creamy. Now, to ensure quality control, we did sample them a number of times each, and were certain by the end of the session that they were all fantabulous.

After about 45mins of sliding the delicious bivalves down our gullets, we decided that it was time to have dinner. Kanga had been raring me up all week for one of the restaurant signature dishes - the Parmesan Custard and Anchovy Toast. It was like a little savory creme brulee, cut by the slightly fishy and crunchy toast soldiers. To wash this down we had a tea infused Bayswater Martini by the gorgeous barmen, Robert Voller. Oh.My.God. This was perfect - on the nose you could smell a tea infusion and oranges, and it tasted like the best martini I have possibly ever had (Hussyband would be so jealous as he loves a good martini!)

Now, being that we had kind of scoffed ourselves senseless on the oysters, we decided against our original plan of having mussels for mains. Instead we took chef/proprietor Rowley Leigh's suggestion of the Pike Boudin with Fines Herbes for our starter (we were good girls and shared our courses so we would not get banned from future escapades by our suffering spouses...and we were kinda stuffed as well). This was the most divine little sausage of seafood - almost mousse like in texture, but with a crunchy top where it had been finished, swimming in a sea of happiness...we used our fingers and bread to soak up every drop of sauce (hey we can be classy when we want to but this was too good to waste!)

Our main for the evening was to be the Wood Pigeon with Braised Peas (and a side of Gratin Dauphinois). You can tell when you are eating proper game, when you bits down into a piece of moist tender breast, only to be met with the crunch of shot. I had never tasted pigeon before, and I found it to be quite tasty, Kanga demonstrated the fine art of how to get the meat from every inch of bone...cant wait to see her on frogs legs! The braised peas and jus were perfect foil for the rich meat, and the dauphinois...well, everything is better with potatoes baked in cream don't you think? We washed all of this down with a carafe of Ponte Pietra 2009 Corvina Del Veneto...hic.

Finally the pudding. Kanga was hoping that they would still have the chocolate gooey concoction she had when last there, but alas this was not the case. So we settled on the Queen of Puddings, with a glass each of the Monbazillac 2006 Domaine de l’Ancienne Cure. Now, we could have come to blows here, as just maybe we should have gotten two desserts. This was good. Nay, better than good. It was a layered clouds of lusciousness. It starts at the bottom with a lemon curd and sponge, then an oh-so-delicate layer of raspberry, and topped with peaks of sweet just stiff meringue. It was...well, the picture shows how much we enjoyed it I think!

Then we took our adieus and stumbled back for the slog to SE18....thankfully in a booze laced sphere of happiness that not even stinking hot overcrowded Tubes could erase. Another happy food excursion.

PS: I never did manage to shuck an oyster, it was too crowded. Kanga on the otherhand, was more persistent and managed to shuck her first - what a proud little shucker she was too!