Monthly Archives: January 2010

Ambitious, But Still Crappy with a Camera

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Back in the States!  Yay!  (Maybe?)

I arrived home at about 9 pm on Thursday evening, all sorts of sniffily both from my cold and from being sad about departing London.  Fortunately, the Blackberry and PS3 that awaited me provided the necessary moral support.

Anyone who watches Ina Garten knows Friday night is roast chicken night, and dang nabbit, I’ll be no exception!  I happen to love roasting chickens, and I was severely in the mood for some comfort food.  All I needed was some Scotch to complete the meal (well, technically I had a Bloody Mary, a martini, and then wine…).

However, for someone fresh off the plane, complete with cold (which as I type has morphed into a chesty cough), perhaps the menu I decided upon was a bit too ambitious.  The PS3 in the living room was also taunting me.  I made:  herb bread, cream of wild mushroom soup, a roast chicken, and praline mousse.

Too Late for Hot Toddy, Too Early for Mimosa

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Just a quickie!

I haven’t posted an update in the past two days because I’ve been a teensy bit busy, what with saying goodbye to friends and getting ready to move.  In addition to the insomnia that woke me up at 4 am this morning, I also seem to have caught a cold, which, short of being hungover, is my least favorite way of boarding a plane.  Bloody Mary, pls?

On Monday night, I tried a fantabulious pub with my good friend Lori called The Nag’s Head.  Very old school London establishment; nice and tiny, with a roaring fire.  We were there for two hours before heading off for some Japanese izakaya food.  Those here in Londontown should definitely give it a shot.

Tuesday was our celebration of Burns Night in Oxford, and any of you who read my Facebook status the next day can only imagine the craziness of that evening.  “Brian woke up smelling like haggis and tasting like whiskey.”  I’ll have pictures and a real post when I get home.

That’s right, next post… from America!

Want to be a Fattie? Live with Bao

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I had a ton of stuff just hanging out in the fridge, most of it dairy.  Cream, cheese, eggs — all there.  There was also a huge amount of bacon and herbs, so…

…carbonara for me and my flatmate!  Looks goopy, but it was pretty good for a last-minute dinner.  But god, I need to start eating better…

What’s wrong, you ask?  Try about 3/4 cup cheese, one cup heavy cream, and three eggs…

Challenge: January 23 — The Baoburger

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This week’s challenge was inspired by my chum Jared, who suggested that, in preparation for the terrifically unhealthy food normally consumed by Americans, I brace my stomach by making a greasy, huge hamburger.  I found this challenge quite interesting, but let’s face it:  the last thing I want to give myself along with a good meal is a case of the runs.  So, yours truly decided to test out a truly decadent burger.

In October I ate at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon and had the most exquisite foie gras sliders.  I wanted to see if I could mimic something similar in taste and equally as horrible for me, which is when I stumbled upon this recipe.  “How simple!” I thought to myself and plucked up some courage to buy foie gras, a task new to me.  I created what I call THE BAOBURGER.

I changed some of the components — in addition to minor tweaks here and there, I substituted ciabatta for brioche, emmental for Gruyere — and the technique:  rather than top with foie gras, I made a beef/foie gras patty to give the burgers a more subtle flavor, rather than a liver-spiked punch in the face.  I also used a cooking method that I learned in Japan; rather than just saute until done, I sauteed both sides, and then steamed the hamburgers until they’re done.  This not only cooks the burgers perfectly, but keeps them from drying out.  Finally, I reduced half of my bois boudran in the hot pan, added the hamburgers, and coated them with the reduction.

I give myself 3.5 out of 5 stars.  The burger was incredibly moist, and the flavor profile, I think, was decent.  There would have definitely been more impact had I topped the patties with the foie gras.  Sauce bois boudran was delicious (though I added salt and some Tabasco) and increased in flavor as it set.  It’s the perfect topping for a burger, with the chives and tarragon giving a sense of sophistication to what is essentially a whole lot of condiments mixed together.

I’m certain this burger would be just as dandy if you eliminated the foie gras, so give ’em a try if you’re interested.  You can find my recipe here.

Blurry Pictures from the Other Foot

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After some urging from my mother, I decided to treat myself to a one-last-hurrah type of dinner in London.  Now, I know that in a previous post of mine I commented that most of the food here in England was total rubbish; I still stand by that, but if you’ve got the money to blow (which I really don’t) it is quite possible to have some truly grand gastronomical adventures in the UK.  We’ve all heard of The Fat Duck, after all.

I started off yesterday by very energetically researching places with tasting menus (to be specific and very precocious, I feel I should mention that my search originally began in French with ‘le menu découverte’).  Back in October, when my parents were visiting me for my Oxford graduation we went to L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon in the West End.  The food was excellent — I tried foie gras and Wagyu sliders — but I had desperately wanted to order the tasting menu, an eight-course culinary orgy with items like a Parmesan and port cappucino, caviar, and coriander panna cotta.  The thing with tasting menus, though, is that the whole table Must Agree, or the deal’s off.  My mother, bless her, is not very adventurous when it comes to food.

So what better way to get what I want than go alone?  I flittered through numerous reviews on the web, a venerable mountain of menus, and felt I had pretty much uncovered every restaurant with le menu.  Unfortunately, the average price was over one hundred quid, before alcohol (and I refuse to go through a nice dinner without wine!), and my dream of a farewell-to-London dinner was in danger of dying.  It was about this time that I stumbled upon L’Autre Pied, sister restaurant to Pied à Terre, a super pricey two-Michelin star restaurant in the West End.  At L’Autre (which yes, literally means ‘the other foot’), reviews said, you experience Michelin-star dining but not the prices.  I found this hard to believe, and rung them up for a table for one. Continue reading →