An Erudite Sybarite

After a very slow start to my blogging year, I’ve been bashing my head against various walls [don't ask, I do it for fun] and planning my next posts. There are loads in the pipeline, but in advance of writing any of them and with a truly brilliant recent dining experience in my mind, I thought I’d do a little review first.

I’ve been working with the guys at The Exchequer since they opened the doors on this award-winning gastropub, shooting food and drinks on a seasonal basis. I’ve also been known to take regular refreshment at the bar, but apart from their brilliant Sunday roasts, I’ve rarely sat down to eat a lunch or dinner. As will become evident, this has nothing to do with the food, I blame the liquid refreshment…

The recently-launched Spring menu meant I needed to drop in and take a selection of photographs of the new dishes. These images are then used for promotional purposes on the website, Facebook and Twitter, as well as through traditional print media. The Sybarette had arranged to meet a mutual friend of ours at The Exchequer on the evening I was shooting food and the guys suggested that we sample the new menu after I’d taken the photos.

Potted smoked mackerel with horseradish, chive, crème fraiche and toast. Click to enlarge

Half dozen rock oysters, two ways. Click to enlarge

Pigs head and trotter with apple purée and lentils. Click to enlarge

This worked out perfectly; there were three new starters and three mains on the shooting brief, so it would only be a case of arm-wrestling to see who got what. However, the staff at The Exchequer are not big fans of violence, so we decided that we’d just share the starters three ways, to avoid any need to call the emergency services.

First up came the potted smoked mackerel with horseradish, chive, crème fraiche and toast. Served on a board, it consists of a glass jar [pot] containing the mackerel with the toasted sourdough on the side. There were also some leaves, but I’m not big on leaves and consequently, will not be wasting time on their discussion. It was very good; smooth and mackerely to begin, with a lovely kick from the horseradish swooping in immediately afterward. So far, so good.

Next up was the plate of rock oysters, served two ways. I’m a big fan of unadulterated oysters [at a push, maybe with a squeeze of lemon], but these bad-boys took me competely by surprise. The raw oysters had a shallot, black pepper and cider dressing, lending a pleasant addition to the natural saltiness of the oysters and a subtle aftertaste. I didn’t actually get to sample the tempura oyster with pickled cucumber as all three mysteriously disappeared – most likely down the throats of my delightful dining companions. I did hear a series of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ though, so I can draw a positive conclusion from this and therefore apply the stamp of approval.

Keeping the best until last, the third new starter family member was – to my mind – the star of the evening. A breaded, lightly fried patty of pigs head and trotter, served on a bed of lentils and with an apple purée. Words alone will not suffice to describe this dish, such was its brilliance. The Chef has taken two unusual cuts and transformed them into something very special indeed, but as I’ve said before, don’t take my word for it – get in there and order it.

Chargrilled rack of pork. Click to enlarge

Braised beef short rib. Click to enlarge

Seared breast of chicken with slow cooked leg pie. Click to enlarge

And so to the main courses. Again, we made a call on which one we’d each prefer, then started the horse-trading to determine who got what.

The Sybarette opted for the braised beef short rib, which turned out to be an inspired choice. This comes with spinach, celeriac, a blue cheese croquette, fondant potato and the deepest, richest, most wonderful mest juices reduction ever. Sweet, sticky and very, very beefy, it was – for me – one of the highlights of the night. The croquette was an unusual but brilliant addition, a clever take on the classic steak with Roquefort.

The chicken dish looked to be the most simple, but contained a lovely surprise in the form of the accompanying pie. Slow-cooked chicken leg with leeks and wild mushrooms were housed in a perfect pastry case, and combined with the leek purée upon which the pie rests, brought the dish to life. The seared breast was almost a separate meal and came atop some of the best mash I’ve ever tasted. The jug of gravy sealed the deal nicely.

Last dish of the evening was the pork chop. To my mind, pork chops should be sweet and juicy, but all too often they end up as lifeless, dried-out boot soles which have no place on a dinner plate. I’m happy to say that this one was perfect. What I initially thought were parsnip chips turned out to be two perfectly roasted pieces of crackling – a clever touch – and the meat was accompanied by roasted salsify, king oyster mushrooms, an onion purée and some polenta, parmesan and rosemary chips. My initial thought was that there were going to be too many conflicting flavours, but this wasn’t the case – everything worked in unison to create a truly great tasting dish.

Lee, the Chef, is constantly experimenting and coming up with new combinations. It’s great to see that the so-called cheaper cuts of meat are once more at front and centre on this innovative menu, and long may this continue. As Dublin gastropubs go, The Exchequer is still leading the way.

It’s fair to say I’ve been neglecting the upkeep of my blog this past few weeks, but the mojo seems to have returned and we’ll try to forget the blank that was February.

I may not have been writing about food, but I’ve certainly been reading about it and – more importantly – cooking it. The Sybarette and I received a huge selection of new [and old] food-related books at Christmas and we’re really only getting around to perusing and sampling now. Of the many, one in particular has been taking up quite a bit of my time and it is from this I am going to share a recipe in this post.

Discovering new ways to serve certain ingredients is always a joy and back in May 2011, I wrote about using Halloumi cheese in a recipe. Up to that point, my opinion of Halloumi [and celery] was that it is clearly the work of Satan and had no place in any home. Tried it, opinion changed, now love it and got over myself. Which is something I’ll never say about celery; that whoreson weed.

Another ingredient I’d only ever used once or twice before in a recipe is pomegranate or, more specifically, pomegranate seeds. They’re an essential part of a Persian Jewelled Rice dish I’ve made, but I wouldn’t have seen myself using them for anything else [yes, it's the blinkered bumpkin in me], until I happened upon the recipe below.

Pretty pomegranates and their seeds. Click to enlarge

In her book ‘The Lebanese Kitchen’, Salma Hage showcases several hundred recipes and the one that immediately jumped off the page at me was her Broiled Halloumi with Mint and Garlic. This may well be one of the most simple recipes I’ve ever found, but the combination of texture and flavours makes it very special indeed. In a step away from the written recipe, I chose to fry the Halloumi in a drop of olive oil as opposed to broiling [or grilling] it.

You’ll need [for four people]:

2 blocks of Halloumi
1 large bunch of mint – roughly chopped
2 cloves of garlic – minced or finely chopped
2 pomegranates – split in half and seeded
1 lemon – juiced
Olive oil
Black pepper

Combine the lemon juice, garlic and mint with a good glug of olive oil and leave to infuse for ten minutes. Cut the Halloumi into 8cm wide slices and place in a flat, shallow dish. Pour over the infused oil and leave to marinate for at least another ten minutes, but preferably longer.

Heat a frying pan and add a couple of teaspoons of olive oil. Reduce the temperature and gently place the slices of Halloumi onto the pan. Retain the marinade. Fry until just starting to colour and flip over. Do the same with this side.

Remove Halloumi from the pan, set out on a platter and pour the remaining marinade over the cheese. Sprinkle the pomegranate seeds over the platter and season with grated black pepper.

Serve as a starter.

Halloumi with Garlic and Mint. Click to enlarge

Even as I write, I’m smiling at the simplicity of this delightful dish as well as the memory of its flavours.

With Easter merely days away, it’ll be a busy time in the kitchen, with ‘The Lebanese Kitchen’ and Yotam Ottolenghi’s brilliant ‘Jerusalem’ both close by. But the experiments won’t just be confined to Middle Eastern food; there’s talk about the appearance of an immersion bath and vacuum sealer to try out some new recipes for a friend’s restaurant. And with a hand-held smoker already in-situ, a feast of fun will be had.

Sahtain!

The Sybarette and I spent Christmas in the South of Spain; our third year to do so and we see no reason to change that in the future. Using Nerja – in the province of Málaga – as a base, we try to visit other towns and cities in Andalucía and this time, we hit on Ronda as our destination. More about that later, though.

The major difference between our holiday this time over previous visits was that we didn’t take the traditional starter, main course, dessert route when dining out. There are some truly excellent restaurants in Nerja and we like to sample their menus when we’re there, but on this occasion we discovered that the town has finally come around to serving the brilliant modern tapas which could only previously be found in the larger cities. And about time, too. We’ve said it time and time again, there’s no place for the shiny Russian salad, the mackerel in vinegar, the cold prawns in Marie Rose sauce that were the traditional offerings in nearly every tapas bar. They’re still there and will always remain, but they look and taste tired. On a previous holiday, we even discussed the logistics of setting up a modern taperia in Nerja, but the notion never got beyond that point.

One of the biggest surprises happened right on our doorstep. There’s a bar next door to the apartment we use that also serves food. In all the years we’ve been going to Nerja, we’d never given it a second glance, but the Sybarette had been there for a long weekend with some girlfriends and mentioned that they had taken sup in this establishment. She also mentioned that they serve an Andalucían speciality; rabbit stew. This got my senses all aquiver and so we said we’d give it a go. I ordered the stew and while waiting, took a look at the tapas in the cabinet on the bar counter. There was the usual old-school selection on offer, but also some curious looking items. I asked what they were and was told that the chef prepared a number of different tapas-of-the-day, which changed daily. On that day they had breaded mushrooms in mushroom sauce, a Moroccan style vegetable stew [actually more of a curry, given the spices] and chicken skewers, again with a definite curry vibe to them. We ordered all three and were blown away by how good they were and decided there and then that we’d be back every day to sample even more delights. Needless to say – due to the number of other restaurants we were keen to visit – this didn’t happen, but at least we know there’s somewhere doing decent tapas within skipping distance of the apartment.

On Christmas Eve, we were doing some last minute shopping when we bumped into a friend of ours who lives in Nerja. Given that it was nearly midday, he suggested a caña [small beer], so we adjourned to one of the most popular bars in the town whereupon we were greeted by the mother lode of tapas. Still there were the jamon, olives and cheese with bread, but so too were gems like chicken croquettes, aubergine lasagne and spicy meatballs. Off to one side was a display of the bar’s pintxo [similar to tapas, but larger] offerings. This was a truly beautiful sight and we made note to return that evening to sample.

And we were not disappointed when we did return. Starting off with the aforementioned croquettes and aubergine lasagne, we also ordered pintxos of rabo de toro [bull's tail] and solomillo de cerdo [pork loin stuffed with fruit and nuts]. For its novelty value, we then took a portion of chorizo infierno [skewered mini chorizo cooked over an open flame and served on bread]. Simple, tasty, brilliant – every last morsel. Things were certainly shaping up in Nerja, but we weren’t finished, not by a long shot. Tucked away around the corner, we had spotted a little place with a whole shoulder of pork cooking away on one of those revolving vertical spits more usually found in kebab houses the world over. Curious to find out more, we scooted around and ordered a couple of beers and were told that this was the house special, jamon asado. In my experience, jamon is the dark, cured meat which can be found hanging from meathooks and is available everywhere. This was a different thing altogether. It had the same basic shape as a whole jamon on the bone, but was definitely not cured and resembled roast pork in colour and texture. Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, we ordered a plate. It duly arrived, having been carefully sliced off the revolving leg and onto assembled on a large plate. Some of the roasting juices [which it transpired are used to marinade and baste the roast] were spooned over, a quick twist of black and white peppercorns and we were off. Now, I’d happily eat pork all day, every day, but this would lead me into overdose territory. It was sweet, salty, peppery, garlicy, juicy. It was perfect.

Four locals look out over the 'El Tajo' gorge in Ronda. Click to enlarge

On December 28th, we hopped into the car and took the easy route to Ronda, a 6th century city famed for its bridges and 390ft gorge. Had we taken the easy road back to Nerja, perhaps the change of underwear might not have been necessary, but we didn’t and it was …

It’s a very beautiful city, not big by any means, but very hilly. As luck would have it, our hotel was at the bottom of one of the hills, which was fine when we arrived, but not so much so when it came to exploring. The hotel was amazing – check it out here – and the cost of our stay included breakfast and a free bar. Yes, you did read that correctly; there is a free bar for guests. Ordinarily, I’d be all over something like this and even went so far as to snigger at the poor fools who thought this was a good idea, but in actuality, we didn’t take advantage at all. It’s nice to come in from dinner, go behind the bar and pour a couple of beers, before finding a seat in one of the many communal areas within the hotel. At no stage did we feel like making pigs of ourselves as we knew the beer wasn’t going to run out. Breakfast was another little adventure and we got to use a proper machine to make our coffees.

Our room was a separate tower, dating back to the 13th century and covering three floors. The bathroom was at ground level and had a wood-burning stove, which was lit when we arrived. We’d been warned that Ronda can get cold at night, but shrugged that off until we experienced it for ourselves. Jesus wept upon the cross – it was bitterly cold after dark and we were very grateful for the stove upon return to our tower.

Assorted tapas from Nerja and Ronda. Click to enlarge

Having decided to stick with nibbling tapas instead of having huge dinners, we found some real gems in Ronda. The first place we stopped off at had a typical array of old-school offerings, but the owner had some of the good stuff up his sleeve. It was here we were introduced to Pisto Rondeño, a sticky, gloopy ratatouille-like dish that included hard-boiled eggs. Served with crusty bread, at first sight it didn’t look like much, but it was delicious and was deemed to be the nicest thing the Sybarette had eaten on this trip. Definitely one to seek out if you’re ever in the area. We meandered through the streets, stopping off wherever the look of a place took our fancy and nibbled and sipped our way through the evening. What a great way to dine – eating, drinking and exercising, all at the same time.

We’ve got some friends who are originally from Málaga, but who live and work in Marbella and to whom we mentioned we’d be spending a few nights in Ronda. They decided that it would be fun to come join us, which was great news for everybody, so they arrived on our second day. Both are big fans of good tapas and good wine, and whilst there’s a bit of a language barrier, we get along famously by speaking Spanglish. They were somewhat surprised to discover that we’d done a bit of a recce and found several taperias they were not familiar with, so after visiting their usual haunts, we headed off to eat at the trump card in our pack.

Tragatapas is a taperia in the hip modern style and its tapas are most definitely of the new-school variety. It’s the sister restaurant to the Michelin starred Tragabuches across the street and has taken tapas by the scruff of the neck, given them a good shaking and presented them as something fresh and funky. Slow roasted pig cheeks with potato foam, smoked sardine, blood pudding wontons, brie with Seville orange sauce – these were just some of the amazing tapas we ate that evening and we were served local wines to accompany these gems. It’s not the cheapest place to eat in Ronda, but it gives serious value for money and in my opinion, the best tapas out there.

Time to boogie off and start planning for my next tapas night – I promise to actually write about this one!

As the last post of the year from me and in keeping with the tradition of using a song title as a post name, there was only ever going to be one title I’d use.

Recorded by The Waitresses all the way back in 1981, this is one of the less well-known Christmas tunes, but it can be safely said that it’s my favourite. It’s from the age of early rap music and the hat tip lies in the word ‘wrapping’ in the title. It only ever reached number 45 in the UK singles chart, but still pops up at this time of year and is a Christmas favourite in Canada. Compared to the usual seasonal slush, this tune puts a smile on my face whenever it comes on.

I’m not big on ‘year in review’ pieces, but 2012 was the year in which I had some of the most exciting, exquisite, exotic and excellent food in memory. I heard mixed reviews from diners at restaurants in far-flung outposts [yes, one of which was Noma] and another where angels served unicorn on actual clouds, it was that good [I'm suspending belief on this not-to-be-named establishment].

Some highlights include a pop-up restaurant by Stephen Gibson which featured the pig as its central ingredient for all courses [except dessert, where he could have used my recipe for bacon dust]. Located in the basement of a wine bar in Dublin city, it was a wonderfully informal lunch with some really brilliant food. I had hoped that Mr Gibson would step away from the French influenced offerings at Pichet and I wasn’t disappointed.

The tasting menu at Ananda in the Dundrum Town Centre was very, very special indeed. I’ve written about it in a previous post so do please feast your eyes on it and then get your asses out there to try for yourselves.

Finally, Christmas started early for four of us this year. We had lunch at The Greenhouse. I’m tempted to leave it at that, but as a dining experience, it featured some of the best food we’ve ever eaten. It really was that good. Not sure how dinner can improve on this, but we’re hoping to find out in 2013.

Clodagh McKenna's black sole with langoustine and champagne beurre blanc. Click to enlarge

Derry Clarke's scallops with black pudding. Click to enlarge

We also got to make a Christmas special called ‘Food Fight’ for RTÉ, in which Clodagh McKenna and Derry Clarke battled it out in two unfamiliar kitchens in Gorey, down in Wexford. It airs on St Stephen’s Day at 6:30pm on RTÉ One and is worth a watch – it’s quite entertaining to see two well-known chefs at work outside their respective comfort zones!

It’s hard to believe that another year is almost over, but what a year it was.

Here’s to an even better 2013 – Happy New Year to you all and thanks for reading and sharing my words over the past 12 months.

It’s been a while since I’ve written a restaurant review, not that we haven’t been eating out or that there hasn’t been anything worthwhile reviewing. Given the current economic situation, it’s great to see the large number of new restaurants that have opened this year, and greater still to see how well they’re doing. And with Christmas just over a month away, they’ll hopefully be busier than ever, which is a win/win for everybody.

My resolution to use a song title for each new post has been more difficult than I’d imagined it would be, but there was only ever going to be one that fit the bill for the chef whose restaurant I’ll be writing about this month.

Formed by sisters Ann and Nancy Wilson, Heart is an American band who first found commercial success in Canada with their debut album, ‘Dreamboat Annie’ back in 1976. Magic Man is the second single to be released from the album and it reached number 9 in the Billboard Top 100. Guitar driven from the start and with a blistering solo, it’s reminiscent of something Led Zeppelin might have released, if they’d had a female vocalist. It’s a real gem of a tune and one that’s still able to stand out as a truly great example of mid 70s rock music. It’s not wishy, it’s not washy, it’s proper in-your-face stuff.

Which brings me nicely along to introducing the chef who works magic with the food he creates and serves. Sunil Ghai is at the helm in the kitchen of Ananda Indian restaurant in the Dundrum Town Centre. What he’s doing is wonderful to experience and he’s been instrumental in the changing perception of Indian food as true fine-dining fare here in Ireland. Working closely with Michelin-starred chef Atul Kochhar [co-owner of Ananda], Sunil has come close to breaking the rules of what it is we expect – and perhaps demand – to be served in Indian restaurants. Familiar dishes have been broken down into individual components, making each plate a genuine pleasure to behold. If it’s a plate of runny curry with flavourless pilau rice you’re after, Ananda is not for you and may I suggest you stop reading now.

I was fortunate recently to be invited to an evening at Ananda in the company of other food bloggers, writers, a PR guru and a chef. We had received the evening’s tasting menu by email during the afternoon and in my case, 5:30pm couldn’t come round quickly enough. I had no idea of who else was to attend, so it came as a nice surprise to see two familiar faces in the bunch and the ice was broken as soon as the bubbles started flowing. In summary, they’re a great bunch of people, but it’s the food I want to write about so I’ll get stuck in.

Pan fried St Tola goats cheese and potato cake, with roasted pear and walnut chutney. Click to enlarge

First up was an amuse bouche of pan-fried St Tola goats cheese and potato cake, with roasted pear and a walnut chutney. The cake itself was delicately spiced and was really set off by the walnut chutney, but it was the roasted pear that proved most pleasantly surprising. Peeled, cored and then vacuum packed before cutting to shape and roasting, the texture was brilliant and not at all like any pear I’ve ever tasted. This was matched with a Pazo Barantes Albariño, which had a lovely lemony finish and complemented the slightly tart goats cheese.

Pan seared Kilkee scallop with a spiced broccoli purée, celeriac cream and aged kumquat chutney. Click to enlarge

We then moved on to our starter – seared Kilkee scallops with spiced broccoli purée, celeriac cream and an aged kumquat chutney. Put simply, this is now on my list of the finest things I’ve ever tasted. Again, there was the delicate spicing of the perfectly-cooked scallop, with no overpowering flavour present. Harmony on a plate, made all the more harmonious by a second glass of the Albariño. Completely spellbound, it was at this stage I realised we were involved in something really special.

Free-range guinea fowl supreme in Kashmiri chili and carom seeds, pomegranate, avocado raita with parmesan and curry leaf rubbed parsnip. Click to enlarge

Onward we bravely soldiered to the next magical moment. Presentation is something Sunil and his team at Ananda take very seriously, but I had an unspoken question about how they’d make the next plate – Tandoori guinea fowl – look sexy. After all, anything tandoori is just pinky red, right? Wrong. A beautifully seared, juicy portion of guinea fowl was placed atop a base of parmesan and curry leaf rubbed parsnips, surrounded by an avocado raita and sprinkled with pomegranate seeds. One of our group had mentioned earlier that none of the flavours were what he considered traditionally Indian, but the Kashmiri chilli and carom seeds brought us closer. At this stage, I had the feeling we were being spice-teased, with each dish bringing an additional level of complexity and punch. Accompanied by a cheeky little Riesling this time, the balance of flavours was perfect.

Crispy pan fried sea bass in a wafer envelope, baby turnip and beet salad, mango ginger chutney and trout caviar. Click to enlarge

By now, we were well and truly enthralled and the arrival of our next dish brought us to yet another level. Sea bass, wrapped in a delicate wafer envelope, served with a baby turnip and beet salad, a mango and ginger chutney and a hidden surprise in the form of trout caviar. The wafer was an example of the sorcery afoot in Ananda that evening. Impossibly light and crisp, it seemed to be part of the fish – a second skin, as it were. The subtlety of the baby beets and turnips worked brilliantly with the succulent sea bass and there were appreciative nods all round our table.

As with ‘Tandoori’, the word ‘Korma’ brings on the cold sweats and memories of many bad Indian dining experiences in London back in the 1980s. Dear God of all that’s tasty, what was Sunil doing to us, serving us Chicken Korma? It was indeed a worrying time for our table, but the trepidation was dismissed upon the arrival of our next dish. By now, we’d become somewhat anaesthetised by the fine wines, but we were far from complacency and decided that this was the make-or-break dish of the evening.

Of course it was perfect. Chicken breast stuffed with wild mushrooms and apricots and served on a bed of spinach, all surrounded by a fantastically punchy saffron and aniseed korma sauce. Yet again, Sunil had us back where he wanted us.

Wicklow lamb rack marinated with almond and mint pesto from the Robata grill, chickpea and chard, pomegranate emulsion. Click to enlarge

We’d been happily munching and sipping for a couple of hours at this stage, but were very much aware that there were still two more courses to come. And, we hadn’t had ‘proper’ meat yet, which meant that lamb was going to be next.

I love lamb, I adore lamb and I’d happily beat a lamb to death with a jar of mint sauce if I knew I was going to get to eat it. These lamb chops were a revelation. Cooked on a Robata grill [a Japanese indoor grill that uses charcoal to cook food], they were plump and juicy yet not too heavy at that late hour. We had moved to a Portuguese red at this stage, a Herdade dos Grous which had a distinct cherry flavour that worked really well with the pomegranate emulsion on the lamb.

Coffee liquer infused dark chocolate mousse, macaron with kumquat chutney and passion fruit sorbet. Click to enlarge

They say that all good things must come to an end, but in this case it was more of a natural conclusion to a truly splendid evening. By ‘conclusion’ I mean dessert and by ‘dessert’, I’m hardly doing justice to the word. It was called Chocolate Delight and all I’ll say is, look at the photo and draw your own conclusions.

As food goes, it was as close to perfect as I’ve ever tasted. It was undoubtedly Indian, yet shattered the myth that this vast nation’s food [and many regional specialities] has to be heavy and stodgy.

My thanks to the staff at Ananda for the warm welcome and the constant yet never intrusive attention to our table. Benny – the manager – treated us with a courtesy that’s sadly lacking in so many other restaurants.

Special thanks to the ‘Magic Man’, Sunil. First and foremost for the exquisite food he laid on, but also for allowing me access to his kitchen to make the photographs you see here.

Long may the magic continue and may a star shine upon him in the very near future.

Another month gone by and it really feels like the year’s end is racing up to greet us. Looking back over the days since my last post, it struck me that a lot has happened and a lot of ground has been covered. We even managed to get some holiday time in and travelled to the West of Ireland.

For as long as I remember, I’ve loved Led Zeppelin. From the late 60s through to 1980 and the unexpected death of drummer John Bonham, they were one of the most successful and popular bands in the world. One of the first records I owned was their ‘Four Symbols’ [Led Zeppelin IV] album and I still have mixed memories of the time when I thought ‘Stairway to Heaven’ would never be equalled as a musical epic. Back in December 2007, they reunited [with Bonham's son Jason sitting in on drums] and played one concert at London’s O2 Arena. It was the most subscribed lottery for concert tickets in history; 20 million people applied for tickets to see a concert in a venue that holds less than 20,000. The concert was filmed and I had the great pleasure last week of getting to see it on the big screen at Dublin’s Savoy cinema, where it was shown for one night only. ‘Down by the Seaside’ is a track from the 1975 album ‘Physical Graffiti’ and was a leftover from their fourth album. This song rocks both hard and soft, yet was never performed live by the band. Singer Robert Plant recorded a duet of this underrated tune with Tori Amos in 1995 and the track features on the Led Zeppelin tribute ‘Encomium’.

Aill na Caillí, near Roundstone, Connemara

It’s always great to get away for a break and the West of Ireland is rather beautiful all year round. Having spent the previous two weeks driving the length and breadth of the country, another long journey was not the ideal way to start a holiday, but was ultimately worth it. Roundstone is a place we love to visit, especially when there are few tourists and the village is peaceful and quiet. Over the years, we’ve made some good friends in the village and it’s nearly always possible to acquire scallops and other monsters of the deep at very short notice. And, as fresh as if they were just pulled from the sea. Which they tend to be around these parts.

The plan was to take lots of photos and cook new dishes, all the time making sure to stay refreshed with the odd pint from one of the hostelries. We also had two groups of friends travel from Dublin to stay over, making for a more social break than usual. Anything that involves good food, good wine and good conversation in the company of good friends is worth any amount of effort, and it’s fair to say it was a most satisfactory few days of entertaining. We kept the food relatively simple but also experimented with some staples, creating new flavour combinations along the way and everybody had a turn in the kitchen, making for even more variety.

Scallops, smoked black pudding and apple chutney, potatoes dauphinoise and roast chicken

One of the most successful dishes was the one at top left in the photo above. Put simply, it comprised of seared [in butter] scallops, smoked black pudding from McGeough’s in Oughterard and an apple chutney. The apple chutney came about as the result of my fixation with chilli and all things hot and spicy. I had some Scotch Bonnets which I brought from Dublin, but with no idea of how I was going to use them. Seeing some nice apples in the grocery store, I had one of those ‘Eureka!’ moments and decided to try a combination of the two.

A simple recipe follows.

You’ll need some chilli peppers, apples, butter and kecap manis [Indonesian sweet soy sauce]. Remove the cores from the apples and peel them if you wish [I kept the skin on with one batch and peeled the second - the skin-on version was adjudged to be better], then dice finely. Chop the chilli peppers, and add to the melted butter in a pan. After 2-3 minutes, add the apples and a splash of water [we want the apples to retain their shape and not turn into a mushy mess] and allow to soften for 10 minutes. Add the kecap manis to taste and allow to cool.

The smoked black pudding was sliced to 1cm thickness, fried off and then placed in a pre-heated oven to cook through. Then, using even more butter, I seared some scallops in a hot pan [1.5-2 minutes maximum per side], before assembling the dish. A slice of pudding placed centrally on your plate, two scallops on top of the pudding, then spoon the apple chutney down the centre. Serve. Say nice things about it.

Chocolate brownie with chilli and vanilla salt

Back at home in Dublin, the experiments continue and as I’d always fancied an alternative take on the chocolate brownie, I opted for edginess over subtlety and went in search of the heat again.

Lady and gentleman, I give you my take on a chocolate brownie.

200g good dark chocolate [at least 70% cocoa], broken up
170g salted butter
200g soft brown sugar
100g plain flour
3 eggs
1 red chilli [go on, use something really hot!], finely chopped
Vanilla salt

Preheat oven to 180ºC. Make a bain-marie by putting a bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, making sure the bowl doesn’t actually touch the water. Into this bowl, put the butter and chocolate and gently melt. When melted, allow to cool to room temperature before whisking in the sugar and eggs. Add the flour and stir until it’s combined with the chocolate mixture. Finally, add the chopped chilli and a good pinch of the vanilla salt and mix well. Pour the mixture into a well-lined baking tin [20cm x 20cm or similar size] and bake for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and turn out onto a cooling rack.

When cool, cut into squares, arrange on a wooden board, put some chillis in the background, sprinkle some vanilla salt over the top and take some wanky photos.

But most of all, enjoy the difficult-to-describe kick you’ll get from the combination of red chilli and vanilla salt, combined with sweet chocolatey brilliance…

Hard to believe that Summer has yet again evaded us here in Ireland. I say ‘evade’ because we didn’t have a Summer to which we could bid farewell upon its departure. It’s been a busy period though and I’ve traversed the country for work and play, leaving precious little time for writing, taking photographs and cooking.

In December 1983, American avant-garde and New Wave band Talking Heads played three nights at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. Director Jonathan Demme was on hand with his team to film the concerts, which were then edited into the wonderful concert movie that is ‘Stop Making Sense’. From the opening drum machine and acoustic guitar of ‘Psycho Killer’, the magic of the band is slowly released on the viewer and this post’s title track appears six songs in. Originally appearing on the album ‘Speaking In Tongues’, it was to be their biggest selling [and only Top 10] single, peaking at number 9 in the Billboard charts.

Fear not, I haven’t suddenly developed an unhealthy interest in arson, but I will be writing about heat and burning in this post, all food-related.

All in a row. Red - but not necessarily hot - chilli peppers. Click to enlarge

They’re feared, they’re respected and they’re full of flavour. They’re chilli peppers, and they’re always close to hand in my kitchen. From China to Spain, taking dozens of national cuisines in between, chilli peppers have been bringing heat to food since at least 7500BC. Back then, they were bringing heat to the gastronomes of Ecuador and other Central and South American countries, but weren’t introduced into Europe until Christopher Columbus brought them home. Even then, they were considered to be more of a botanical curiosity than foodstuff, until monks in Spanish and Portuguese monasteries discovered their culinary potential and began to use them in place of black peppercorns [which were so costly at the time, they were frequently used as currency].

I’ll never forget an acquaintance of mine daring me to eat some dried Thai bird’s eye chilli peppers. He reckoned that he’d previously eaten twenty eight of them in one go and wanted to see if I could beat that number. Now, I was considerably younger when this gauntlet was thrown down, but not entirely subscribed to the stupidity channel, so I turned him down. He went ahead regardless, eating seven before he hit the deck, gasping for water. Another braindead acquaintance gave him a pint of water, which only served to exacerbate the effect of the capsaicin [the active ingredient in chilli peppers] by spreading the oils and thus, the heat. Oh, how we laughed. Eventually.

Tagliatelle with prawns and red chilli in a cream sauce. Click to enlarge

Cooking with chillies need not be a fearful experience, as long as you know – or at least have an approximation of – the heat of the variety you plan to use in your dish. For simple suppers or lunches, or where there are going to be guests whose tolerance to heat might not be as high as ours, we’ll use the readily available, bog standard red chilli, which is to be found in almost every supermarket. They’ve got a good flavour but come low on the Scoville Scale – the measurement of a chilli’s spicy heat. In other words, they’re not going to leave you needing to keep your loo roll in the freezer.

We tend to eat a lot of Asian food and the chillies used are considerably more pungent than the aforementioned variety. You may have had jalapeño peppers on pizza or nachos in the past. If you considered them to be hot, bear in mind that they rate between 2,500-5,000 on the Scoville Scale [the red chillies from above come in under 1,000], whilst a Thai Bird’s Eye variety rocks up around the 100,000-225,000 mark. In my experience of cooking with the Bird’s Eye, I start with half a chilli [including seeds and membrane], then add to this as required – it’s easy to add to the heat of a sauce/dish, but difficult to cool it down. Your dish should pack a good punch, but should not be so obnoxiously spicy as to mask the taste of the other ingredients and burn the face off yourself.

For the prawn dish in the second photo, I finely chopped a clove of garlic, then a red chilli and softened them in a little oil. Whilst doing this, I cooked some fresh tagliatelle, strained it and left it with some of the cooking liquid in a covered pan until the dish was ready to serve. To the garlic and chilli, I added some frozen king prawns [don't be precious about using frozen prawns - they've got bags of flavour and are handy to have in the freezer], warmed them through, then added a splash of cream. Twist of black pepper and a pinch of salt and you’re done.

Less than ten minutes from start to table, making – as it did for me – a perfectly tasty supper for one with a pleasant tingly chilli flavour.

We’ll be heading West to Connemara at the end of the month and my intention is to do some serious cooking and writing, taking photos of the marvels I’ve created along the way. Oh, and drinking. I intend to try out some recently acquired – and previously untested – fine red wines over the course of the ten days.

It’s been a long time coming, but finally I get to use a Prefab Sprout song as the title to one of my blog posts. Most of you will have no idea how much this excites me, and many of you will have no idea of who or what Prefab Sprout is.

I’ve already alluded to the band in an earlier post – Easter Parade – and their first album, but the album from which this ditty is culled is their third, ‘From Langley Park to Memphis’. Having taken a very definite step in the direction of pop music with this album [which got to Number 5 in the UK albums chart], the band garnered a whole new gang of fans and the album itself gave forth two successful singles in ‘Cars and Girls’ and ‘The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll’. With a video featuring a frog waiter, a reluctant diver and human-sized hot dogs, this was probably not the band’s finest hour. Frontman Paddy McAloon has long been regarded as one of the finest songwriters of our time, but never looked quite as embarrassed and uncomfortable as he did while appearing on Top of the Pops, miming the lyrics “Hot dog, jumping frog, Albquerque…”.

So, how does this song fit in with food? The clue lies in those groundbreaking lyrics above. Yes, laydeez and jennulmen, this post is dedicated to a city in the State of New Mexico. Okay, it’s not really…

McGeough's smoked sausages on the grill. Click to enlarge

It is highly likely, yet unconfirmed, that the hot dog originated in Frankfurt, Germany in the thirteenth century, where pork sausages were served in a bun in a not dissimilar manner to that which we are accustomed. Then again, they may have been invented in Vienna, Austria, but we’ll probably never know for certain. What we do know is that sometime around 1870, a German immigrant named Charles Feltman began selling sausages in rolls on Coney Island in New York, and in 1893 the association with baseball began. Now, I know absolutely nothing about baseball, but every time a game is featured in a movie or TV show, so too are hot dogs, and in my continuing endeavour to sample all things American without actually setting foot on US soil, I had a bash at creating something vaguely resemblant of a real ‘dog’.

Toward the end of June, I travelled across to the city of Galway to attend [and photograph] a concert by the band Chic. I’ve always been a fan of their work, but had no idea that Messrs Rodgers and Edwards were so prolific as songwriters and producers for other mainstream acts in the 1980s and 1990s. They’ve written/produced for Diana Ross, Sister Sledge, David Bowie, Duran Duran and Madonna, amongst others and the evening was a celebration of this remarkable musical heritage. The Sybarette has little interest in live music, so I went with a fellow photographer friend and one of my favourite people in the world; the delightful and delicious ‘Marlene’ [she'll know exactly who she is when she reads this], whose husband looked after my better half. Great, great night. Loads of pints and dancing, but no gig is complete for me without partaking of whatever scurvious scran is on offer on the sidelines. In this instance, there was plenty on offer and none of it of dubious quality. The Twelve Hotel was selling hot dogs at their stand and it was one of these that gave me the idea to get all ‘Mercan in the kitchen when I returned to Dublin. It was really good and when I asked as to the origin of the beautifully smoked sausage, the familiar name of McGeough’s from Oughterard, was mentioned. As we were heading out to Roundstone the next day, I made a mental note to stop off and pick some up for my experiment.

Fried onions and homemade coleslaw. Click to enlarge

Fast-forward to a week later and the plan came together nicely. Very nicely indeed. As we don’t have a huge hot dog culture here, the selection of buns was somewhat limited, so I went with the safe option and chose a six pack of a well-known brand. Next up, I sautéed some finely sliced onions until soft and golden, then went to work on some homemade coleslaw.

For this, I grated two large carrots and finely chopped half a head of white cabbage. I then added some Greek style natural yogurt [I'd imagine strawberry flavoured yogurt would be horrible in this situation], salt and pepper and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. Stir it all together and leave in the fridge if not using immediately. It’s worth making your slaw as close to hot dog serving time as possible – you’ll retain the crunch of both vegetables and the yogurt won’t take on that ‘Geordie Shore’ fake tan hue.

The sausages were cooked on the trusty old George Forman electric grill, although had the weather been better, I’d have barbecued them. And then it was time to throw everything together. I don’t bother with mustard and ketchup, preferring to let the onions and coleslaw complement the smokey sausage, and I didn’t grill/toast the buns.

They were very, very good indeed, but were they authentic? The honest answer is I don’t know, not having yet had the pleasure of the ‘real thing’, but I plan to take my tastebuds on tour early next year, so perhaps I’ll revisit the topic again.

Here I am, back again and no real change in the weather. It being the beginning of July, I had mulled over the notion of calling this post ‘Summer in Dublin’, referencing the hit single by Irish band, Bagatelle. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do so, given the fact it’s been raining all night with no indication of stopping anytime soon. Of course, this being Ireland, we grin and bear it, which is what I’m doing too.

David Bowie released his first hit single, ‘Space Oddity’ in June 1969. In it, he introduced us to Major Tom, a fictional astronaut who blasts off into space, only to lose contact after uttering his final words, “Tell my wife I love her very much”. Move forward to 1980 and Major Tom is back on our radars. ‘Ashes to Ashes’ was the first cut from Bowie’s ‘Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)’ and reached number 1 in the UK singles charts [it peaked at number 4 here in Ireland]. Its iconic video featured Bowie in a Pierrot outfit and also featured Blitz Kids such as Visage’s Steve Strange, and at the time, was the most expensive music video ever produced, costing £250,000.00 to make. Our astronaut features in the song’s lyrics, albeit with strange references; “We know Major Tom’s a junkie” and “My mother said, to get things done, you better not mess with Major Tom”. Bowie himself described the song as ‘a 1980s nursery rhyme’, but later added that with ‘Ashes to Ashes’, he was ‘wrapping up the Seventies” for himself. So, now we know.

Clockwise from left: Coffee grinder, cured rashers, the business end. Click to enlarge

If somebody asked me what my food find of 2012 was, I’d have absolutely no hesitation in saying the Honest 2 Goodness food market in Glasnevin. It’s become part of our weekend now, and we always find something new and unexpected when we visit. The butcher counter is always busy, with good reason. The beef and lamb we’ve got have been of an excellent quality and great value to boot. Fruit and vegetables look fresh and vibrant – they may be ever so slightly more expensive than in the supermarket, but I’m loath to buy anything in Tesco anymore as the quality is consistently bad. But, there’s one reason in particular I keep going back to Glasnevin on Saturday mornings, and that reason is a gentleman by the name of Peter Whelan. Better known as The Whole Hoggs, I’ve already mentioned Peter in this post, where I sung the praises of his pork chops. He also sells a variety of flavoured sausages, but it’s his rashers that have really sealed the deal for me.

The Sybarette was down in Spain with some of her friends recently and I had the run of the house for the weekend. It had been in my head for quite a while to experiment with making bacon dust, but I’d never quite got around to the practical aspect of it. So, early Saturday morning, I went to visit Peter and acquired some of his finest specimens of the rasher variety.

Bacon dust on vanilla ice cream. Click to enlarge

Back at home, I preheated the oven to 150ºC, placed the rashers on a rack and left them to bake for 35 minutes. If you’re going to try this at home, keep an eye on the oven, as the rind will go from crispy, golden crackling to charred in the blink of an eye. When baked, the rashers should be pretty dry with no moisture present. Give them a pat with some kitchen roll and allow to cool. Next up is the fun part. Once again, if you’re going to try this at home, buy an electric coffee grinder before doing so [I picked one up from Argos for under €25.00]. I’d already tried a hand blender and the Magimix – neither of which gave me a fine enough ground to be considered ‘dusty’ – before inspiration struck and my memory brought me back to grinding nutmeg and other spices using a hand-turned coffee grinder. Break the rashers into pieces and into the grinder with them. A quick zuzz and a rough powder was achieved; another blast reduced this to an acceptable dust-like consistency.

And that’s it, bacon dust in the blink of an eye.

As regards serving suggestions, I’ve tried it on Haagen Dazs vanilla ice cream, chargrilled pineapple slices and fried eggs. Bizarrely, it was brilliant on all three [although Peter remains to be convinced about the ice cream], but feel free to experiment with other foodstuffs.

Thanks for joining me for this, the rare second post in a month. June is traditionally a quiet month in the video production calendar, with people on holiday or holding back on budget until their half-year figures have been analysed, but this month has been hectic, with two major projects to produce.

Before we move on to the main course, there’s the explanation of the post title to get out of the way. Back in 1982, an English band called XTC unleashed ‘Senses Working Overtime’ on the record buying public and gave the band their first UK Top 10 hit. The band had been around in various guises since the mid 1970s but were more critically acclaimed than commercially successful and had only one foray into chartland with the single ‘Making Plans for Nigel’. From the album ‘English Settlement’, the success of Senses Working Overtime prompted a tour which was – unfortunately – short-lived due to the mental breakdown on stage of singer Andy Partridge during one of the opening concerts in Paris. The song itself may be construed as either jolly or sarcastic, but I’ve never read anything about the true meaning of its lyrics so I’ll take the ‘glass is half full’ tack.

My working month started with a trip to the wonderful Ashford Castle in Mayo to film the actor Chris O’Donnell in a photoshoot for CBS Watch! magazine. The finished piece will also feature on Entertainment Tonight at some point in the future. A great trip and all went off smoothly, but this was merely an aperitif for the main event for us.

Taste of Dublin 2012 came to town for the seventh time and was every bit as big and brilliant as expected. We’re contracted to film the event from day one, so I had three camera crews onsite for the weekend. It rained on a biblical level for a lot of the time we were there, but there was also some glorious sunshine over the course of the event. I met and interviewed lots of people, most of them chefs or restaurateurs, but the two stand-outs for me were Jamie Oliver and Valentine Warner. Straight up, my expectation levels were set to low when it came to Jamie, but he’s actually a really nice guy who’s passionate about everything he does. He’s opening a restaurant in Dublin later this year and whilst he’s admitted that he won’t be in the kitchen cooking, he told us that he’s got a personally-selected team of chefs to whom he leaves the running of his kitchens. That’s good enough for me.

Taste of Dublin 2012. Click to enlarge

Valentine Warner may not be as well-known as Jamie, but I’ve been a fan of his since I first encountered him in Olive magazine and the TV series, ‘What To Eat Now’. His food is wholesome and hearty and like me, he’s a big fan of mackerel and all things fresh and seasonal. He’s got a great sense of humour and ‘gives good interview’ and is definitely somebody I’d be happy to sit down with and drink a lot of pints.

There is so much to see and do at Taste of Dublin, but ultimately, it’s all about the food. The Irish scene was – as always – well represented, with chefs such as Chapter One’s Ross Lewis, Bon Appétit’s Oliver Dunne, Derry Clarke from l’Ecrivain and Kevin Thornton demonstrating just why they’re four of Ireland’s six chefs holding Michelin stars. Not only are these guys brilliant chefs, they’re also great to deal with and have none of the attitude one might expect from people at their level. Special mention to Ross and his pulled pork in steamed bun – perhaps not what you’d imagine from Chapter One, but as festival food goes, it was perfect.

One of my camera crew had never eaten oysters, so I introduced him to the delights of the Carlingford variety on offer at The Saddle Room [Shelbourne Hotel] stand – they were the sweetest oysters I’ve ever tasted, and Chef Garry Hughes also had a brand-new smoker onsite in which he was smoking these and whole salmon. It’s great to see somebody like Garry taking the time out to create what is sure to become a very popular item on his menu.

I bumped into Kwanghi Chan [whom I marked as one to watch in a previous post] and was delighted to hear that he’s stepped up to another level as Head Chef at Martijn Kajuiter’s Michelin starred The House at the Cliff House Hotel.

Sunil Ghai and Asheesh Dewan of Ananda and Jaipur restaurants gave a great talk on regional Indian cuisine and the importance of keeping signature dishes on menus. The guys from The Exchequer were running the main bar for the weekend, always useful when it came to beer stops, and a big shout must go out to the San Miguel crew who kept Derry Clarke, Kevin Dundon and myself well refreshed on Friday evening.

It’s a hectic four days, but if you haven’t been, I highly recommend it as a great day [or evening] out in the heart of Dublin city. In fact, to fully appreciate the Taste of Dublin experience, go twice!