Otto

Last summer I read - and very much enjoyed - Heat by Bill Buford, the story of the former New Yorker literary editor's adventures as a "kitchen bitch" at Babbo, the hugely successful restaurant owned and run by The Ginger-Haired Wild Man of New York chefery, Mario Batali. Towards the end of the book, after many months spent being burnt, exhausted and delighted in equal measures, Buford moves to Italy to learn about butchery and pasta making. Meanwhile, Batali dreams up Otto, one of a string of restaurants he now has in New York. As far as I can remember, Buford suggested that the smart money said an up-scale, local pizza place just wouldn't work. Well, the smart money was wrong.

We arrived at 7:28 for a 7:30 booking and were wafted through an enormous crowd to our table. The place was packed and a scrum was forming at the desk. We ordered quickly - the seafood anti-pasti selection ($21), one pizza lardo and one anchovy pizza.

The wine took a while to arrive and the anti-pasti was vey average, but the pizzas were incredibly good - thin and crunchy bottomed. And then we chose two ice creams - Olive oil with Maldon sea-salt and Sweetcorn. Both were fantastic, actually, y'know, exciting, which is not something you often get to say about ice cream.

Great prosecco grappa too. Hic.

Grand Central Station Oyster Bar & Restaurant

Have you ever been to Grand Central Station? It's really, really bloody grand! The terminal houses a fantastic food market, lots of shops and a bustling dining concourse. I've always wanted to eat at the oyster bar and I wasn't at all disappointed. Yeah, I know, I'm easily pleased. But it was great and so, so much cheaper than you'd expect. The menu is changed daily and today they had over 30 different oysters, loads of fresh fish as well as pan roasts and fish from their own smokehouse. We tried The Grand Central Oyster Platter, New England Clam Chowder and the Deep Fried Oysters. With a glass of fizz each the bill was just $64! Sorry about the pictures - it's so dark today!

The adidas Store

So we finally made it through the rain - and there has been a tremendous amount of rain since about 7am - and reached the adidas originals store on Wooster. We went on the subway - a first for me, despite this being my fourth time here - and, thanks to Silvana's excellent map-reading skills, it was the quickest, simplest thing imaginable.

We spent about half an hour wandering around in near silence at this trefoil'd temple to the shoe before deciding on the following: some Superstar Wides, Superstar Skates and - heaven's above! - a hooded top for me; Superstar Skates and Superstar 1's (in the incredible Memphis Grizzlies colourway above) for S and a pair of pure white shelltoes for Scrap. A quick trip to American Eagle Outfitters - aka Gapacrombie - for a pair of jeans (20 quid, squire) and it was back on the subway to Grand Central Station for bivalves and booze.

Dean and Deluca

We woke up early to a dark and very rainy day. With any idea of a walk in Central Park scrapped, we headed into Soho for Dean and Deluca on the corner of Broadway and Prince Street. After I'd finished stroking the kitchenware and expensive metal cylinders of tea and spices we stood by the window and enjoyed a coffee and jam donut. Next to a hung-over-looking Pete Tong. Isn't it a small world! We didn't say hello but ran off through the rain and round the corner to the Adidas Store.

Air India

Robert switched his fancy flight to come cheap and cheerful Air India with me. And it was great! Loads of leg room, nice fabric, really courteous service, generous drinks with spicy lentil snacks and chicken curry for lunch and we landed early! In house entertainment let it down a bit - wobbly and fuzzy but exciting Bollywood thriller with double agents, look-alike-imposters and beautiful women singing and dancing. Didn't quite manage to follow the plot but still, very enjoyable.

In the Hotel now - very swish, very gay (feels like I'm in Ugly Betty) and right in the middle of Manhattan. Tiny little room but super-stylish and with super-fast internet connection for the laptop which will help as we have to try and stay awake for at least 5 hours. Martinis I think....

You'll like this. Not a lot.

We went to Henry and John's joint birthday party at The Salvation Army Hall on Norwood Road on Saturday and had a great time. As we approached it we could see a charity sale going on outside and Robert got all over-excited and came back with a huge pile of religious albums by people like the Jimmy Owens' Come Together Singers for £1.25. No doubt he'll be getting his special little turn table out so he can post them for us all later, so there's something to look forward to.
Anyway, there was a magician at the party with an actual live rabbit in a hat! Talking of which did you seen that sinister Paul Daniels on Wife Swap last night? Poor old Debbie McGee.

Start Spreading The News...

Talib Kweli and Jean Grae: New York Shit (Bootleg, 2006)
Blonde Redhead: Spring & By Summer Fall (4AD, 2007)

... We're leaving tomorrow. The bags aren't packed (my argument is we take next to nothing and come back with shedloads), but the parking is booked and I'm thinking about that bloody mary on the plane and the chance to sit and read five newspapers on the trot. Grand Central Station for dinner on Tues, lunch at Otto, dinner at Peter Luger on Wed and something from Dean & Deluca before we fly back (maybe, this is very likely to change at any moment). Meanwhile, I hammer the adidas originals store ("store", you see, I'm halfway there already!) on Wooster and perhaps pick up some LPs and books on my travels too.

I know it's frightfully boring to post a hip hop track when you're going to New York (almost as boring as misquoting Frank), but I do genuinely like this track. Blonde Redhead are also from New York, but they are more yer actual indie / psych / pop sort of thing. This is taken from their wonderful new album which is out in a few weeks.

Enjoy!

To Moro! To Moro! I Love You, To (etcetc)

Maximo Park: Books From Boxes (Warp, 2007)

So we finished issue 51 and piled down to Moro (via Filthy's) to raise a glass and fill a fork in honour of our now ex-art director Keith who's gone and got himself a new job with Swanky & Swanky, designers to the stars.

I had a couple of Al Hambras, quite a lot of rather good vino collapso, padron peppers (one likes to go off-menu now and then, innit?) and the white pork which was so very, very good, it was like eating at home, only not having to wash up while listening to something improving on Radio 4 and eating bits of cheese straight from the fridge.

Later, we went to a bar cheeky enough to charge us a fiver to get in before turning the lights on and turfing us out 45 minutes later... Still, that's what you get for being drunkards.

Keith is now filling boxes with his accumulated blags, which makes this Maximo Park tune - one of his current favourites - spell-bindingly appropriate. Sort of.

Bye Keith! Don't be a stranger!

Spontaneous! (kinda)

I know, we all know, that all things spur-of-the-moment or even those carefree, 'why not, one more won't matter' evenings go out the window once a baby shows up and starts waking you up every single day at 5.45am. But it has been 3 years since me and Robert agreed to do something without talking about it at great length. But today we agreed that next week, we are going to New York for 2 nights. Just us. Robert has a one hour interview with some old-git band which includes his flight and a swish hotel. So I just need to get a cheap flight, do all next week's work (2 recipe features both writing and testing!) over this weekend, get my hair done, lose a stone and record the Easter Saturday episode of Saturday Cooks (honestly, it is usually live) on Monday and then on Tuesday hello grandparents, goodbye Scrap. Really, really not sure I want to go after all. I don't think we've talked about it enough.

Anyway, here's a recipe for an idiots' pudding that came out surprisingly well. Whizz up some berries (lots in season now) with a bit of icing sugar until smooth. Cut the cardboard off a 750g carton of vanilla ice cream and chop it up roughly with a large knife. Turn into a bowl and mix with some more berries a packet of smashed up biscuits, like gingersnaps and half the sauce. Tip into a a cling-film lined loaf tin and freeze overnight. Serve with rest of sauce drizzled over.

Postman Tat

I got two Things That Weren't CDs in the post yesterday - this can sometimes be the cue for a small surge of excitement.

The first was an invitation to see Mutya who-used-to-be-a-Sugababe preview new material in glorious person at Legendary London Jazz "Haunt" Ronnie Scott's surrounded, presumably, by plates of fried shrimp, icy Chablis 'n' bubbles, some chickeny bits, stuffed chili peppers and tiny portions of roast beef and horseradish (served on a stick, natch).

The other one was a sickbag "designed" to "promote" the new Marillion album. Good and bad then.

Pop Music: Endlessly Malleable

Ria Bartok: J'y Pense Tout Bas (ESRF, 1965)

42 years - and about 6000 miles - separate these two records. But one much more important thing unites them and that is their unhurried pleasure, the way they immediately create their own world and demand that you either live in it now or you push off somewhere else, sharpish. Of course, you stay put. Well, we're not stupid, are we?

Anyway, I knew nothing about Ria Bartok until about three days ago. This is developing into a bit of a theme, isn't it? Merry in my innocence I was. Then I recieved this. It is stuffed with great pop moments, but there's just something about Ria B and this song that makes me think that 42 years ago wasn't that long ago at all.

Then I watch this and it seems like a very long time ago indeed.


Dinosaur Jr: We're Not Alone (PIAS, 2007)

So, Dinosaur Jr. Rather like The Waterboys they seem to have hit a particularly brilliant patch 20 odd years into their, if you will, career. The thing that I love about We're Not Alone is that it's clearly Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl rewritten for people who've spent the last couple of decades eating toast in bed with their socks on, too lazy to even open the curtains. This sort of behaviour seems very attractive to me now that I'm in a place in my life where I'll probably never eat toast in bed with my socks on again - curtains closed or open.

Enjoy!

Gluten-Free Carrot Cakes

I gave in and went shopping today on only day 6 of The Experiment but just bought fruit, veg, milk, yogurt, bread and eggs. No trimmings, treats or things in jars. With that and the freezer I should get through another week without binning anything.

I have been experimenting with gluten-free ideas for Scrap’s birthday party in a couple of weeks so his friend Sami can eat everything. So far so good with the flourless chocolate cake but not convinced about these carrot cakes. Me and Scrap made them together this afternoon and they taste nice but are a bit airy – I wouldn’t bother with the whisking next time, I’d just mix it all together and bake it. Probably yield a few less though, without all the air.

Makes 20
100g ground almonds
2 large carrots, finely grated
75g small sultanas
1 tsp vanilla extract
4 tbsp cornflour
½ tsp baking powder
grated rind and juice of 1 lemon
3 large eggs, separated
140g golden caster sugar
TOPPING
100g soft cheese
50g icing sugar
marizpan, coloured to make carrots with or some Smarties

Preheat the oven to 180C / Gas 4.

Place the almonds, carrots, sultanas, vanilla, cornflour, baking powder, the lemon rind and half the juice and the egg yolks in a large bowl.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites until stiff then add the sugar, a quarter at a time until stiff and glossy.

Fold the meringue into the carrot mixture then spoon into fairy-cake cases and bake for 12 – 15 minutes until just firm to the touch – they will deflate a little on cooling.

Mix together the soft cheese, icing sugar and a squeeze of juice for the reserved lemon half. Spread a little on the top of each cooled cake and top with a marzipan carrot or a Smartie.

Salt-crust Sea Bass x 2

One thing’s for sure – The Experiment is already on its last legs. And it’s only day 5. I’ve still just got enough to make a decent lunch but we really need bananas and yogurts so I think it’s time to start ‘capsule’ shopping for fresh things only. The £460 a year every adult in the UK spends on wasted food is being blamed partly on buy-one-get-one-free offers in the supermarket that never get eaten and things passing their sell-by-dates unnoticed until it’s too late. I may switch my tactic to frequent shopping and only in local shops, I’m including Somerfield Market Fresh here or should that not be allowed? And I'm going to really grow my own this year - perhaps I could convert our tiny patch of grass into a curly parsley lawn...

Anyway, I found a measly couple of rosemary sprigs, half a box of eggs and a punnet of still-yellow new potatoes in the little fridge so have decided to try and make a classic, 70’s style, salt-crust for our sea bass. We can have it with butter, new potatoes and some peas from the 12, all-opened bags still in the freezer. Ice cream and chocolate sauce for pudding!

Method One
This method of making a salt-crust struck me as actually being quite wasteful as the flour, eggs and salt all end up in the bin. Quite enjoyable to make though, steams the fish brilliantly within the crust (though tastes more salty than you might expect) and has a great retro look about it.

1 large sea bass, trimmed and cleaned
slices of lemon, parsley or whatever you have
250g plain flour
1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary or 1 tsp dried oregano
150g table salt
3 eggs, separated
4 tbsp cold water

Season the cavity and pop in a few aromatics like sliced lemon or lime, soft herbs, or a few slivers of garlic or chilli.

Place the flour, rosemary, salt and egg whites in a bowl and beat together. Add the water and bring together to make a firm dough. Cover and leave to rest at room temperature for 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 200C/ Gas 6. Halve the salt crust and roll out into two rectangles big enough to enclose the fish. Place the fish on a rectangle then brush round it with a little water. Place the second piece of pastry on top, and press round to seal, try not to get any air trapped and press the pastry so it takes on the shape of the fish. Trim round but it will shrink so leave a good centimetre or two of border.

Mix together an egg yolk or two with a little water and brush over the crust. Scatter with a bit of coarse sea salt and bake for 20 minutes. Break open the crust to serve the fish within.




Method Two
I did find rolling out the dough a bit tough as it's quite firm and not at all elastic and I thought about trying the other salt-crust method. I found 5 new boxes of Maldon Sea Salt in the pantry but only had one egg left. So, I separated the egg and stirred in as much salt as it could take which was 200g - I think the ideal balance would be two egg whites and 300g salt just to make the mixture a bit more moist and easier to mold around the fish. Anyway, I added a few fennel seeds and packed it round the second fish and baked it same temperature, same time - 20 minutes. It set rock hard and I had to crack off the crust. I think it tasted nicer, less salty and slightly moister than the first fish. Could have just been a better fish of course, but anyway, a lot easier and a tiny little bit less wasteful...

Warm New Potatoes

Gently simmer some whole new potatoes for half an hour or so in a pan of water till they're almost over-done, just starting to split but not completely fall apart. Mix together a large tablespoon of mayonnaise, a tablespoon of avocado or olive oil, a tablespoon of wine or cider vinegar, two tablespoons of water and a handful of chopped parsley (from patch in garden) and three chopped gherkins (end of the jar). Toss with potatoes and eat warm with fish and garden peas.

Almost-Instant Chocolate Sauce

Three tablespoons of double cream (whole, unopened carton left over from Mothers Day last Sunday and only one day out of date) and 50g or so broken good milk chocolate (cupboard still full of every type), splash of water. Microwave on medium, mix, pour over icecream and serve with last few biscuits. Everyone happy.

Annoying People Talking About Annoying Records

Like me, most people who read this blog have super-amazing lives that never, but never, include staying in on Saturday nights and trying to make it to the end of Casualty without falling asleep in their chair with their mouth hanging open. Imagine that!

However, if for some reason tonight you're not snorting vodka off the dashboard of a hooky Jag somewhere in Whitechapel before "having it right off" in 333 (*wonders if people still snort vodka - hopes 333 is still going*) and rolling home at midday, then you might want to watch this telly programme that I'm on where annoying people (and some not annoying people) bang on about the most annoying records ever in one of that deliciously moreish List TV format.

Oh yes, it will be hilarious. The production company wanted my boss David Hepworth, but he couldn't do it. So I said I'd do it, but, in the toing and froing of the emails, I saw how much they'd offered him and how much they offered me. And mine was 20% less. So I said I'd only do it for the same money, at which point they reminded me that DH is, and I quote, "a legend". Happily, the next day, they offered me the same. Which makes me a legend too. Except, sadly, it doesn't.

Anyway, tune in and hopefully they'll have left in the bit where I am horribly rude about REM and admit to a secret love of that Nickleback record that used to be on the radio a lot.

The Experiment Day 4

Not been to the shops yet! Or eaten out, but last night I finished work a bit late and stopped at Ken's on Half Moon Lane for fish and chips for our supper which is against the rules, but honestly, I just forgot! It was half past eight and after a day spent twiddling food the last thing I wanted to do was start cooking again. But blimey, Ken's is fantastic isn't it! We hardly ever eat fish and chips and I had a can of coke! But I didn't have quite enough in my purse for mushy peas because I haven't had the convenience of supermarket cash back.

So far, we have no bread or eggs or fruit left but the fridge is still pretty full and look the green play dough from January is still there. I've been styling some deli products for M&S this week so I have been bringing home falafel, hummus, little salads and vine parcels which is defeating the purpose a bit. I have frozen mince, pasta and canned tomatoes to keep the spag bol coming until Christmas but no herbs! And the flipping mouse came back and took a little bite out of each of the last 4 packets of Quavers so that's the end of the crisps! We're eating porridge for breakfast everyday but that giant jar of oats is still full. Tea tonight: baked potatoes, beans and the last corner of hard cheese!

From the bottom of the freezer, two frozen whole seabass, so we will eat a proper Sunday lunch after all!

This New Thing Is Good, But, Hang On, So Is This Old Thing!

Dawn Landes: Tired Of This Life (Fargo, 2007)
Recently on the Word website there was some discussion of, um, folk hotties. The usual suspects were noted - Newsom, Pierces, Sioux, Power - but one name that came up on the message boards a few times was Dawn Landes. Well, that seems entirely fair in my eyes. Anyway, this is a really, really great song from her actually rather uh-mazing new album. It's a bit folk, a bit country, a bit lovely. Hurray!


Depeche Mode: Just Can't Get Enough (Mute, 1981)
But, you see, this is lovely too. I was 12 in 1981 and I remember thinking that not only were Depeche Mode really rubbish, but this record was just silly. Well, unusually for a 12 year old boy, I was wrong. I have just listened to it again (via this great box set) and it's bloody great. Full of life and enthusiasm and wonder and, oh yes, some excruciating synth wibbles. It couldn't be more different to Ms Landes but it is just as great in so many other ways. That's pop music, right? Double hurray!

The Experiment

There's too much food in Landcroft House at all times. Our bank manager recently commented on how often we eat out. We talk about going on a different diet or detox plan every week. This is the latest plan: we buy no food apart from milk until we can take it no more. We have between the kitchen, basement and out-house, 2 freezers, three fridges and a large pantry. The order in which we will run out of key things will be cheese, eggs then crisps. How long will we last?

Basement Crates: Classics Edition 2

The Wiseguys: Real Vibes (Black Market, 1994)

I have been looking for this for so long. Of course, my mistake was I wasn't looking for something in an ancient Harthouse promo sleeve in the pile of records tucked under the gas meter at the back of the basement. Finding this was a wonderful moment. I honestly don't think I've even seen this for at least ten years. When I first heard it, in the early summer of 1994, it sounded incredible. Like a mix of a hundred records I barely knew but already loved thrown together with an admirable sense of reckless abandon.

The fact of the matter is, you just couldn't release something this stuffed with samples anymore. You'd get shut down. And I love the fact they've not tried to replay or hide anything - just pulled a load of old soul and funk records they loved and walloped them together as if they were DJing the backroom of some suburban pub on a Saturday night. It's like DJ Shadow with a Stella Artois hangover, a Benson stuffed between his badly looked-after teeth.

I post this particulary for Danny at Office Naps who is a huge Johnny Harris fan. Huge enough to appreciate the great slice of JH whacked on the end of this, anyway...

And, yes, I am available for Wedding Photo jobs too.

Enjoy!