2011 - a not so Top ten.

As the end of 2011 approaches should make an effort to look back at some of the highlights, and low lights.

In the past I've commented on my favourite songs of the year - for some reason 2011 seems to have passed me by even more so than usual musically, and I can think of only two songs that have caprured my attention, one of which may even have been released as a single in 2010 and doesnot count

Villains of the year 1. Top again is Benedict XVI - his loving caring attitude to gays has seen to that 2. News International - for allowing its employees to hack the phones of anyone and if they could everyone 3. Jeremy Clarkson - need I explain? Events of the year 1. Duckie's Copyright Christmas 2. Sam Amidon at the English Folk Dance and Song Society 3. The Anti-cuts march

not even a hint of sprout.

Christmas day for me usually begins sometime on Christmas Even when mam starts to prepare the food, this includes the chicken which is put in the oven to start slowly roasting filling up the house with lovely chickeney smells. Unless, has become a slightly more frequent occurrence I spend the season in London, even then the kitchen would have some form of Christmas wafting through it as someone or other would be preparing dinner. Not this year.

This Year was very different I went out to eat, at the Connaught Hotel, to be fed by 2 start Michelin chef Helen Darooze. We had a table booked for 11:45, and being Christmas Day, when there is no public transport in the city, we decided to walk. It didn't take us long about an hour to do the three miles, walking through a semi deserted London , except for the occasional car, and jogger. Things got busier when we got to Buckingham Palace, which had a throng of people outside - tourists I expect as after all most Londoners would know that the Queen is in East Anglia during Christmas. I wonder if they were there waiting for new on the health of the Duke of Edinburgh.

For the second time in my 17 years of living in London I walked through Berkeley Square, and there are still no nightingales in evidence.

Arriving with some time to spare we sat in the lounge, and enjoyed a pre lunch G&T, before taking our places in the dinning. Initially sitting in a wing chair I soon moved on to a sofa (I'm sure there is a posher word for it) mainly because my short arse legs didn't meet the floor in my original choice.

As you would expect the service was excellent every single member of staff I encountered was totally professional, courteous and friendly. Although it took until my third visit to the loo to get used to having someone turn on the water taps, and hand me a clean towel.

The menu had been on the website for some time, so had been getting quite excited about it all.

Started off with an Amouse Bouche of Lobster Bisque and a Chorizo Roll.

Then the first course Scottish scallop carpaccio, “Maldon rock” oyster cream, chive, caviar from Sologne - delicious and made me excited for what else was to come, my first experience of oyster and caviar.

Second course Terrine of duck foie gras from Landes poached in mulled wine, Christmas chutney with dried fruits. Again lovely, a huge chunk of tasted bread to go with it/ The terrine was silky smooth, and teh dried fruits added a burst of sweetness.

Third course

Royal-style Jersualem artichoke flavoured with Iberico ham, egg yolk,

Parmigiano Reggiano émulsion and black

trufflE.

- the only miss on the menu for me, not that there was anything badly wrong with the execution, my fellow diners enjoyed it, and one was more than happy to scoff mine. But two mouthfuls of it made me realize that it wasn't for me. Perhaps the flavours were just too strong for my palate.

Fourth course - and the biggest hit of the savoury courses,

Pavé of seabass cooked à la nacre, girolles, chestnuts cappuccino, white truffle

The sea bass was wonderfully salty, the girolles had a crunchy bite, a larger portion would have been very much welcomed, on a normal dinner plate.

Finally the last of the savoury dishes

Dodine of yellow capon, duck foie gras and black Périgord truffle, gartin dauphinois girolles and lardons.

I only have vague memories of this, as i think by now I was quite fit to burst. mainly I think due having eaten far too many of the fig bread rolls which were proffered at regular intervals in the run up to the first three courses, accompanied by lovely slices of butter, freshly taken from slabs which sat in the middle of the dinning room. The gratin was melty and soft, the potatoes having been sliced as thin as a sheet of paper, the capon was meat and moist, but perhaps by now I had overdone the savoury.

Then finally desert lemon tart, speculos tarts and lemon paper. This was no ordinary lemon tart , sitting in a bowl surrounded by a caramel sauce, it was as I said in the moments I took to eat it - divine and amazeballs. The best compliment I can give to a pudding is the length of time I take to devour it, I took it much slowly than I would normally wanting to enjoy each mouthful, the sharpness of the lemons hitting the spot each time I took a spoonful. Yes it sounds a bit poncey but the lemon paper was delightful and just melted in the mouth.

Not long afterwards we were enjoying a post lunch coffee in the lounge, and after settling the bill we headed home, too full to walk, and hailed a cab back to SW8/SW9.

Nadolig Llawen - Merry Christmas

Advocaat

A long time since my last post, but this for me unChristmassy of Christmas Eve's - no decorations in the house, no cooking smells wafting from room to room has just been made that extra Christmassy by buying a bottle of Advocaat.

A Facebook friend mentioned that he had bought some and had been drinking snowballs. So I went out and bought some too.

It now stands unopened in the kitchen, waiting to be mixed with some Lemonade, and i will be whisked back to my childhood.

Most of my Christmas Eve memories as a child take me back to my great Aunt's house. The Christmas shopping would have been all but finished, and mother was now looking for dad in some pub or other after he work Christmas dinner had finished. The next few hours I would spend inflating balloons, untangling ancient lights and unravelling equally ancient tinsel. I would then prop my self up on a piano stool and my Aunt would poor me some advocaat. It's gloopy yellowness being both scary and exciting and exotic. I never remember finishing a glass so I never got drunk - which is good as , I was not yet in Secondary school when this started - my mother claims to be totally unaware that I was plied with alcohol as a Primary school aged child.

This sort of became a tradition for a few years until I hit my teens , when I stayed at home during the parental pub crawl, and made do with babycham, and then when I was 16 I just did what other school kids did in West Wales in mid to late 1980's, went to the pub and indulged in underaged illegal drinking.

Soon however I will open that bottle and drinking to the memory of my great Aunt.

Flaming June

yeah right, this time last year I was sweltering in a very hot and humid New York, today I have virtually stayed in my room all day away from the damp wet weather outside, it;s not even that warm. I know which I'd prefer.

Galvin at Windows

Food - I love it, as many a post here proves. As the years pass I have become less fussy, and no longer turn my nose up at swede or pizza. I'm still rather proud of the fact that I have yet to buy a kebab when drunk, although it's only I've yet to overcome my fear of a full English from a greasy spoon.

I have however been less adverse to trying something a bit more up market. Last night was such an experience, when I had the opportunity to dine at Galvin at Windows, on the 28 floor of the Hilton on Park Lane. Im trying to save money , so probably not the most sensible of choices, but it was well worth it and a few months of baked beans on toast will see me back on an even keel.

We were fortunate that by the time we arrived the weather was clement, and the sky had hints of blue, as for much of the day it had been grey and wet, and it would have been a shame to have spoiled such a fantastic view over London.

But what we were really there for was the food and the drink. A lovely bottle of Champagnes started us off, before we were shown to our table, and some good quality bread to choose from as we decided on what to eat.

I decided on some seared foie gras, with a duck pastilla lemon confit in a date consommé , lamb for main with white asparagus, a green smear and a side dish of shepherd's pie. Whilst waiting for this the wine arrived a love Resisling, - I finally realized the value of a sommelier. We were given an amuse bouche - a white asparagus mouse topped with what I think was hollandaise and ham hock shavings. To be honest I could have just finished there and raved about that for the rest of the week.

But more was to come. The starter was delicious, the seared foie gras tender, the pastilla delicate and spicy, the confit smooth, and the date consomme had a subtle depth to it.

Next up a main, the lamb was served the recommended pink and it was sweet and tender, the best part of it however was the shepherd's pie which came in a side dish. The potato topping was perfect, the lamb mince beneath rich and thick one of those eating out occasions where you wold love to do an Oliver twist and ask for more.

Deserts are often a hit and miss affair, but this was not an issue last night. I plumped for the coffee creme brule, and the recommended desert wine. a dense aromatic Muscat. The fumes of which would probably set off a sensitive breathalyzer . It was well matched with teh pudding whihc had a crisp hard shell over a dense creamy centre.

The obligatory coffees , some petit fours, and a jar of lime and strawberry marshmallows - which I scoffed a lot of, then time to leave.

The two hours had slipped by quickly, and I was quite dad to be going. The service was wonderful, and Massi our dedicated waiter was lovely in all manner of ways. It may have been my first visit but I certainly hope it won't be the last.

Moans and gripes

• I need to start watching what I eat/ what I cook. Otherwise you might see me on Channel 4's Supersize v Superskinny
• The London Borough of Lambeth have a new waster collection policy - or as they laughingly call it strategy. This means they do not collect bins from the inside of properties any more, instead all bins must be on the pavement. They must have good reason for this but I don't know what it is. It has been in operation for 5 weeks enough to make me believe that it needs a complete rethink. Next door have not complied with the requirement for the last three weeks, as a result a small mountain of black and orange bin bags are building up in their front yard. Having big bins on the pavement are a huge temptation for drunks to bang on late at night. After collection some bins remain on the pavement for a whole day, often blocking the footpath, I pity anyone who needs to maneuver a mobility vehicle around what is a council created obstacle course.
• this is my first full week in the office since early April I don't like it.

Two meals

When many people were celebrating the resurrection of Jesus, I was quietly celebrating something far more personal and important my birthday. I had no real plans, other than just eat chocolate and plans to go out every night over the long weekend came to naught, with only a visit to Duckie to talk about.

Late on Saturday I was texted by my landlord, he had booked a table for lunch to help celebrate. Destination - La Pont de la Tour, near Tower Bridge. Years ago when I worked in the Tooley Street offices of EBSCO I would often pass Butler's Wharf and Shad Thames the home of this restaurant, and thinking how nice it would be to be able to afford to eat there, this was when I earned half as much as I do know, it's really still not something which easily falls into my price range. Thankfully I was not paying and we were eating the fixed price menu of £30 for three courses and a glass of champagne. If I'm honest I'd not do it again. The atmosphere was pleasant enough, sat as we were on the riverside terrace. The staffing was efficient and probably the nearest I'll get to fine dining for sometime. I suspect that I will never be wealthy or even silly enough to pay £1350 for a bottle of wine (no there is no decimal point missing in that figure) . The food is what I was disappointed with even at £30 I would have expected something remarkable.

Unfortunately the food was unremarkable - the haddock soup that I had as a starter could well have come from a carton from the Covent Garden Soup company , - the accompanying bread was however very nice. The main was Duck , with crushed new potatoes and peas. The Duck was nice , but there was not much of it (admittedly portion control is not my strong point) , and the dressing used on the peas and spuds was too sharp and cold. The pudding was not bad, the best of the three courses a citrus creme brule, there was a lot of it, and it could have been a sharing dish for two if the main had been more substantial. Nothing too awful then but just a bit Meh! and not what I'd have expected all those years ago when passing it and dreaming of the ability to afford to eat there.

Yesterday, two friends sent a text, they were off to Hot Stuff for lunch a cheap and cheerful Indian restaurant in SW8. It's been a while since I had any food from there, and a few years since I had eaten there, and the first time I've been there since a recent refurb and the division of the eat in and take away into two separate premises. It was as far away from the Sunday experience as you could get, a small single room with no more than 30 chairs - probably less. , one wall filled with reviews from local and national papers - all very complimentary, and outside no river view, but the dug up pavements of Wilcox Road. We dispensed with the menu - and just accepted the suggestions of the waiter.

Just over an hour later we left stuffed to the gills with delicious food (and wine which one of my fellow diners brought with him) . All for £51.00 (not each for the whole meal). A starter of chicken wings, king prawns and the best bahji this side of the North West Passage were followed by a selection of curries fish, lamb chicken and vegetable, and a platter of 'magic mushroom' biryani which I wolfed down enthusiastically, and of course the Nann bread . The size of which can be seen by looking at the photo.

So basically the weekend proved that in terms of food quality you don't always get what you pay for, (or on Sunday's case what others pay for you)

Randoms

• a nice long weekend, - no work till Thursday
• pity that I felt so tired that I actually stayed in on Saturday and was in bed before Sunday made an appearance
• the occasional appearance of warm spring like weather lifts my spirits.
• plans of a frugal and healthy February and March have come to naught, but what better way to ruin such good intentions that dinner at the Canton Arms, and a lunchtime treat of foie gras toasties.
• experimenting with a clean shaven look again, and a hairstyle that require liberal use of Brylcreem

Off work

• no work since last Wednesday - yay
• back tomorrow - boo
• Not too keen on the reconfigured Tate Britain,
• Went to the Chipotle on Tottenham Court Road - not cheap
• somehow lost 3 lbs in a month - this is good, unsure how considering my diet is often made up of nutella and tangfastics
• a bit fed up of the grey London skies

Brits 2011

random thoughts

• why James Corden
• Mark Owen off Take That is quite the short arse.
• until Christmas I had never heard of Plan B or Tinie Tempah
• Based on Chasing Pavements I always used to think Adele was majorly pants - she's not half bad really
• I've heard of Arcade Fire, but I've never heard any of their stuff
• James Corden is letting himself go after a subdued start
• I think I was one of the few people who didn't like Rihanna's Umbrella
• Has Robyn been nominated for anything?
• Justin Bieber - why?
• Even blond Mark Ronson is rather tasty
• Mumford and Sons - are they young farmers?
• Simon Le Bon looks different
• Plan B - phwar
• The mastercard indents are even more annoying this year
• Poor Mark Ronson
• Robyn was robbed
• Dermot still has it
• Take That - there was a time I'd have groaned at this in displeasure
• Must admit I thought Roger Daltry was dead

My Saturday

• a nice lie in
• crepe and nutella from the market
• roasting a pork joint
• burning my fingers on the roasting pan
• drinking wine
• eating cake
• watching rather dull Wales v Scotland Rugby.

My new friend

I have a few days off work - not too many back tomorrow - but have made a new friend. Mr Dreaded Lurgy.

I'm hoping it won't be too long a friendship.

sign of old age

I should be out dancing the night away at Duckie, but instead have spent the night at home alone in front of a roaring fire, drinking wine, eating ice cream and flicking between Merryl Streep in the Devil Wears Prada, and a Bruce Springsteen doc, and now the latter's Darkness Live show from 1978.

Winterwonderland

Previous post on here will have let slip that when it comes to snow I regress to a form of childhood excitement. This was slightly tempered by the thought it could have stopped me getting home for Christmas, but it soon returned.

One reason I get excited is that I have memeories of 1982/83 when we had a couple of episodes of really heavy snow, snow so heavy that it meant school was closed for a week, and that getting to town meant a long walk, , and hitching lifts with passing tractors.

So it was with great glee that when turning into the drive at home I was greeted with a huge white out. Not exactly the blizzard that struck New York over Christmas, but enough to stick and freeze and make roads treacherous, on foot and in the car.

Every morning I'd wake up and squeal with excitement that it was still there, the white covering of cotton wool covering the landscape.

I'm hoping that we will get some more in the early part of 2011.

First Great Western

Today returned back in London from my trip back home for Christmas.

As always it was a lovely relaxing time bookended by the awfulness of the train journeys.

The outward journey due to the snow of the previous week, and I feel bad complaining as in the end I was only an hour late in the end, although it meant that by the time I got to Carmarthen I really wanted to be home quickly.

The return journey was First Great Western at it's finest, I mean worst. First I had to be up at 7.30 to be sure of getting to the station by 9.30. Thankfully the car journey was smoother, on the way back the Top road from New Castle Emlyn to Cynwyl Elfed being clear, on the way up it had been impassable, although the main road was remarkably clear and well gritted which says a lot for the effectiveness of Carmarthenshire Council. The 9.30 start was my decision , as it was a cheaper train, and it was a direct one from Carmarthen no changing at Swansea, and I avoid the shittyness of Arriva Trains Wales, on the downside it was a longer journey, for some reason avoiding Reading and Swindon, instead going via Oxford, but armed with my ham sandwiches I would cope. But it turned out my hopes of a nice journey were marred by the fact that they were unable to provide a trolley service in First Class, they were one carriage short in First due, which made anyone who had a booked ticket for carriage G was out of luck, and the first working toilet I could find was two carriages down in Standard. Things got worse, sometime before the Severn Tunnel we were told that they did not have enough water on board to ensure that all the toilets on board worked, then at Oxford they ran out of hot water in the buffet car, so no more free coffee.

By the time I got into Paddington I was almost on the verge of turning to religion so desperate was I to get off.