Bodean's or Bopoulter's?

So, March is here and with it an end to the incessant rain - at least for now. And that has seen us move a little further afield than in February's drizzle-filled days. 

A couple of weekends ago, prompted by local reviews  we tried to book lunch at new launch, Bodeans's Balham. Sadly, it has proved so popular that there were no tables that Sunday until 5pm. But undaunted we walked over Clapham Common to Bodean's Clapham. As a BBQ lover Bodeans' and Pitt Cue are top of my list of places to check out.

So what was Bodean's like? First up, it has a great diner feel. From the ubiquitous TV screens showing sport (football and rugby union) to the red leather booths and porcine posters, we could have been in Clapham Avenue, Manhasset rather than Clapham High Road, London. A special shout out should be given to the staff; universally friendly and efficient, they were truly in the American model of service.

Ubiquitous nachos

Well-cooked chips

Large plate of ribs

But what about the food? Well, it was good.....but not great. As you'd expect it was long on carbs and protein. The nachos were tasty, but hardly mould breaking. And the main courses were accompanied by well-cooked chips (lots) and coleslaw (not so much). We tried the mixed plate (ribs, pulled pork and chicken) the girls had burgers and ribs.

Even larger plate of ribs, pork and chicken

 And they weren't bad, but they weren't great. It's a bit hard to put my finger on it, but I think the issue is the range of flavours. Nachos and chips are pretty bland, aren't they? They rely on other things to make them tasty. And all the meats were just meaty. Meaty in a good way (and that includes the portions), but I would be hard pushed to really differentiate. And a particular bug bear - the hot chilli sauce didn't really deliver. Even the red wine was on the innocuous side.

Fast forward to this weekend and the forecast of 18 degrees C made a barbecue almost inevitable. Notwithstanding recent events, the girls demanded ribs. Courtesy of the weekly veg box, our groaning fridge demanded veg. And because our eyes are bigger than our bellies, we also demanded sausages, scallops wrapped in bacon and sweetcorn. So under the watchful (or do I mean fearful) gaze of the rabbits I dusted off the Weber, got the coals red-hot and set to it.   

Of course, one thing you can't hurry is ribs; not if you want them juicy and tender. I imagine that the kitchen in Bodeans starts pretty early - because it took a couple of hours to get the ribs to the right state of floppiness. But while they sat under the lid of the Weber slowly roasting that allowed me plenty of time to sort out everything else: make coleslaw; par-boil the infamous cauliflower and rustle up a couple of bbq sauces: She Devil and a more child-friendly one. 

The She Devil one is pretty good, so here's the recipe

1 onion, coarsely grated 
3 to 5 garlic cloves, finely chopped 
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce 
1 cup ketchup 
1/4 cup dark brown sugar 
2 to 3 dried chipotle chilies 
1 cup beer, plus extra if needed 
1 cup water, plus extra if needed 
1 tsp. dry mustard 
1 tsp. mild red chili powder 
1 tsp. ground cumin 
salt and pepper to taste 
1/4 cup cider vinegar

Mix together the onion, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, ketchup, dark brown sugar, chipotle chilies, beer, water, mustard, chili powder, cumin, salt and pepper, and half the vinegar.

Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 30 to 45 minutes, or until a thick sauce forms.If the mixture sticks or threatens to burn, add more water or beer.

When the sauce is thick and flavorful, add the remaining vinegar and taste for seasoning.Remove from the heat. 

It's the chipotles that make this work - I'm slowly working my way through a bag of them that my old man sent over from an outfit called The Spice House in Chicago. But I bet most UK supermarkets have them these days. Anyway, try it - it knocks most of the shop bought ones (and Bodeans) into a cocked hat.

And then suddenly it was time to bring the grill back up to maximum warp speed and get all the other stuff cooked. And what we got with this grill inspired meal was a few more flavours than the Bodean version and quite a lot more vegetables - corn, cauliflower and asparagus in addition to the slaw.

And that's where barbecuing at home has an edge. Bodean's has to stick to a pretty narrow range of things because it's easier to control and its what the punters are coming for - huge mountains of ribs, sticky sauce and big bowls of chips. But at home, you can put together what you want and make it how you like it. The Ottolenghi cauliflower recipe is hardly a natural partner to BBQ ribs with She Devil sauce, but do you know what? They really work together.

I'll probably go back to Bodean's (if I can ever book a table at the Balham branch) - the staff and atmosphere are great and the food is reliable. But it would be good if they could try a few things to add a bit of variety maybe?

But I certainly won't be putting up big screens showing sport in our kitchen...

Baking hay while the sun shines

Goodness but it's been a while since my last post - November last year.

And since then, it seems as if it's been raining constantly. Relentlessly.

So when I saw the watery sunlight peeking from among the clouds this last weekend I was perhaps in a slightly over-eager mood. Over eager to try out something spring-like and optimistic for Sunday lunch with friends.

Which is why I found myself swaddling a big leg of lamb in hay normally reserved for the rabbits.

The smell of hay takes me right back to stacking-up bales of hay on steep Devon fields on warm summer days when I was a kid, so when I saw the recipe in HFW's River Cottage Cookbook, and remembered that courtesy of the two pet rabbits we had plenty of hay, I thought why not?

Expensive hay and expensive leg

 The recipe is pretty basic. Simply take said leg of lamb (English, from Sainbury's); baste with a combination of butter, finely chopped garlic, rosemary, thyme and marjoram. Then put in a deep roasting dish lined with 6-7 cms of hay, put the same amount on top and cover with foil.


Then place in medium hot oven (220C) and bake for about 2 hours 15 minutes.

The result? 

Well, to be honest, not fantastic. As a general rule HFW is in my top tier of cookery writers. Those whose recipes are pretty foolproof: quantities are correct, instructions are clear and timings true. Aside from Delia (who I assume has a whole brigade of minions testing every recipe to destruction) I add Nigella Lawson and Nigel Slater. Jamie Oliver is a little too keen on the slosh of this and a handful of that for my liking.

What we got after 2 and a bit hours plus resting time was something very pink and moist (ooh er!) which tasted as much of hay as lamb. Hardly surprising you may say - and for me personally that was no bad thing (though that was by no means a universal response. 

But the real downer was that every single slice was coated with individual strands of hay. Too many to easily get rid of and each one like a giant's pube in your mouth.

And absolutely nothing in the pan to make gravy (apart from hay, which doesn't really cut it in the jus department).  Again, the more attentive readers among you will be saying that's hardly surprising - hay is absorbent dummy! Which again is true. But Hugh says…

"Any juices from the pan can be poured off and used for gravy although I tend to prefer to serve this dish with boiled flageolet beans heated through in the juices and fat from the lamb."

Which led me to believe that I wasn't being a total half-wit to expect a cupful of something to go with the roast potatoes that also featured.

Saved by the trifle.

Luckily Mim had made an industrial-sized chocolate trifle using a Nigella recipe. The video of it is pretty cringe-making (while in some parallel universe she may hop on the bus and queue patiently in supermarket check out lines, in this one I think the recent trial made it pretty clear that other people take up those tasks for her), but it's easy to buy for, easy to make and, crucially, easy to like. So somewhat unsurprisingly this was a sure-fire winner with oldies and youngies alike.

Our guests were far too polite to comment on my unusual interpretation of roast leg of lamb, but once they had left, family feedback was short and brutal. I must never, ever, cook that again!

So HFW - please tell me what I did wrong? Or dare you admit that this was something you once did while very drunk and thought it would be a laugh for others to make the same mistake you did? 

While revenge is a dish best served cold, reheated memories always leave a nasty taste in the mouth.

Cosmopolitan food porn

While it's true that living in London means that experiencing any real wilderness requires a few hours travel in any direction (unless you count Croydon in that category); for the committed outdoor foodie there are some occasional positives.

This weekend was one of those. The Real Street Food Festival held on the South Bank jammed outdoor eateries from around the world on Queens’ Walk at the Southbank Centre.

And, unusually for a November lunchtime it was dry (the driving rain came a little later in the day). So what better way to while away your Sunday than wandering around the stalls - taking in the sights, the smells and the samples?

So without further ado here are some pictures I took of just some of the things on offer. I didn't manage to capture any of the banter from the stall holders. Which is a pity, because it's the human element that makes the outdoors such a great place to meet and eat. No reservations, no being rushed off your table, no ear-bleedingly loud music in the background. Just people tasting, trying and sharing. 

With old Father Thames as a perfect backdrop

Campfire magic at Embers campsite?

Just a couple of weeks after our US road trip, we were camping again, in a much more conventionally British manner, joining the hordes escaping London for the August Bank Holiday.

Unusually for me, I'd booked a campsite a few months before - Embers. I think I'd found the website while searching for New Forest campsites which allowed fires - because that exactly what it is. For anyone south of the river, the New Forest is pretty much the nearest National Park. It's also a lot easier a drive than heading southwest to Devon or Dorset. Our last journey to Eweleaze Farm on that same weekend was a brutal five hours of stop start tedium. 

The website was pretty slick. It not only promised us 'campfire magic' but also had a very easy to use booking system. So that was that 3 nights booked in a few clicks, courtesy of my long suffering credit card. And at £20/adult/night and £5/child/night it wasn't especially cheap - £150 all up.  By contrast, Eweleaze is £7.50/adult.

So what do you get for that?

For starters you get a call to your mobile on the Friday night to check that you're on your way and that you will be arriving. Well that's what we got anyway. Of course this may well be simply for the site's benefit to make sure that they have no empty pitches - but it made me feel like we mattered to them. Quite a difference to most campsites I think.

On arrival Zoie (? I think that's how she spelt her name), walked us up to the pitch - again a nice touch. The site is in a small orchard on the edge of a large field. It's not huge - 30 tent pitches in all and really quite close together, in slightly unimaginative rows. Each has a fixed fire pit, complete with a pot stand and cover. The ground is pretty flat and there was enough space to pitch even our huge tent. Also, because its next to a wood, it's quite sheltered from the wind. 

Fixed fire pit 

A row of terraced tents

When it comes to wood at campsites my general experience is that a bag is nearly always a fiver. What is always different is the size of the bag - with those irritating mesh sacks the worst value - rarely containing more that 5 logs. The bags at Embers are Morrisons bag for life shopping bags. And as well as being pretty large they also include a decent amount of kindling - so I thought it was fair value.

Cars had to be parked back down near the office after unloading, which was fine for us. Although the kids are much older now, I still don't like cars around campsites. So the only the chance of being knocked down was by one the carts provided for loading and unloading being used for racing purposes! Given the number of kids, this was not an unimaginable hazard. There's also a big flat open field perfect for frisbee, footie and kites etc. 

Cart without kids

The toilets, showers and washing up room are about 300 metres away. There are only 6 showers and 2 washing up basins, but to be fair I can't recall there being any queues. Everything was cleaned regularly. Importantly, there is a fresh water tap near the tents - so at least there was no ned to lug jerry cans of water any distance.   

The shop/office/reception down by the shower has all the usual leaflets etc as well as a small selection of essentials. We'd brought most stuff - but we did try a few things. Local sausages - pretty good. The bacon - pretty grim. If there's one thing I can't stand it's cheap, water-injected bacon. Sling a rasher of it on the griddle and watch as the water sweats out accompanied by some kind of white slime. Ugh. And given that there are a bunch of farm shops literally around the corner - how hard could it be to do a deal with one of them? They've obviously given food some thought,  the breakfast packs - all you need for a decent fry up for a tenner - are a great idea, particularly when they deliver them to your tent door.

Cute - apparently 

Another good thing is the farm tour that you could go on. This lasted about an hour and allows kids (or adults for that matter) to actually get up close and handle some of them. Aside from true farm animals like pigs and goats It also includes several more cute things - rabbits, chicks etc.

View of the Beaulieu

But of course for a campsite to be good, it also needs to be in a good location. Everybody has their own criteria - but a few things seem pretty universal: a decent pub nearby; a supermarket an easy drive away; interesting things to do nearby and walks that don't require you to drive anywhere. There's a large Tesco 10 minutes drive away - if you need to get in a big shop.

Embers is just outside Beaulieu, which has the requisite pub and in the form of a motor museum, at least one interesting thing to do, providing you like cars. I can't stand cars, but I really liked the walk recommended by Embers down to Bucklers Hard. This wanders along the banks of the Beaulieu along a well made path with some really great views. It's about 5 km or so, making it pretty doable for most people, and a great 10km run if you're a jogger at all.

Bucklers Hard is a rather amazing place where they used to make ship of the line during the Napoleonic wars. You can walk between the two rows of terraced cottages where the keel of the ship would have been laid. We didn't do the museum but we did check out the pub - the Master Builders. Nice staff, great views of the river and good beers. The food got mixed reviews. The chips and ploughmans were fine but kitchen please note - make sure the fat you fry fish fingers in is sufficiently hot. No one likes greasy fingers.

The New Forest proper is easy to get to from the campsite and we had a great day cycling from Brockenhurst, courtesy of Cyclexperience. I think we must have got the last few bikes they had. They also provided maps and routes, which made for quite a fun 12 or so miles, nearly all on cycle paths apart from a quite busy section round Lyndhurst. So that  covered the interesting things nearby for me.

So, will I go back to Embers? Possibly. It is pricey, but it's also small, friendly and has a great location - both itself and the surrounding area. Was there any campfire magic? Well yes there was. Apart from a bit of rain on the Friday night, the weather was pretty good and perfect for sitting around the fire. We cooked nearly everything on the fire: from the baked potatoes to the corn and the roast beast. We even managed a bit of a puppet show!

Obligatory food shot

How the time flew by

 And they clearly want to listen to their customers' views - a few days after the  trip I received an email from Murray McPherson there, saying thank you and asking for feedback. Like the call on the Friday, I think that's a first. So my advice to Murray is to sort out the bacon, go easy on the pricing and don't grow too big.

Grilling the American dream

You can tell a lot about a nation driving through it. You can tell even more camping and cooking through it. 

In July we took a road trip through some of the South Western states of America - Colorado,     Utah, Arizona, Nevada and California - in an RV. And what a trip it was. Much of the time, my prejudices were confirmed. 

Our RV was frankly pathetic compared to others...

At 25 feet, our RV from Cruise America seemed huge to us; power steering, air con, fridge freezer, shower, you name it, it had it. But at almost every place we parked up, ours was the smallest van...by a country mile. Most other RVs seemed to be the size of coaches, with multiple levels,flat screen TVs and rooms that expanded out to the side, pulled by huge pickups and possibly with a Harley Davidson strapped to the back. 

Short....but quite broad!

Food portions were similarly large. In most diners, the short stack of breakfast pancakes, was only small in comparison to the tall one.

My daughters like pancakes as much as the next person, but not once could they finish even three of those bad boys.






So far so obvious. But what I hadn't expected was how damn polite everyone was. Almost every person we met was attentive, helpful and considerate. The salesman at AT&T was helpful, polite and knowledgeable. The fact that I am still owed $60 by them, because my phone couldn't actually work with the SIM I bought, is more do with their truly terrible online customer services experience. But no matter.

The Rangers at all three Parks we stayed at, were uniformly (geddit) pleasant. Talking about what makes a good carnivore (eyes in front, kill and hunt - since you ask) or explaining what we should do in the event of a thunderstorm while on the trail down the Grand Canyon (squat down away from a tree and pray I think), all of them were a credit to Rangerdom (?).

Why can't we have these in the UK?

And the parks themselves were just fantastic. The ability to book a specific pitch in advances just amazing (but book early - the window is open 6 months in advance) at Recreation.gov was just amazing. You could even look at a photo of your pitch. And when you arrive, the label is already in place.

And what pitches. At just $20 or $30, they are incredibly good value. OK, there's no hook up or even line-in water. But there is a sturdy, ready made fire pit. And as for the views...

I think that Arches was our favourite. Right in the middle of the Park (in Devils Playground), just a few spaces (pull-through luckily given my driving skills). Just park and scramble up the nearest block of sandstone to reveal jaw-dropping views. Particularly at sunset or sunrise.

You don't get this in the New Forest.

As you might expect, cooking was quite a big part of the trip for me. And using the afore-mentioned fire pitsI applied myself to the task in hand. This being America ribs and burgers featured heavily. Bizarrely I couldn't seem to find ribs with any actual ribs in them anymore - they all seemed de-boned. But on the upside there were a number of rubs and sauces to try 

out.

We also managed to squeeze in a few vegetables on the journey.

Nothing too crazy - peppers, corn, that kind of stuff.

And mostly washed down with beer. Really delicious, properly crafted, beer. That was another surprise for me. My last recollection of US beer was the insipid and bland, mass produced stuff like Rolling Rock or Coors. But these days it seems that every town in every state, no matter how teeny has a micro-brewery, putting out small-run, highly-tasty brews. A particular fave was Fat Tire - not just the name, but also the taste. So often these brews are a little heavy on the hops - making them so floral that you'd think you'd been drinking the water from out of a vase.

It's quite easy to take the mickey out of America (or do I mean Americans?). But I can honestly say that when it comes to camping - friendly people, great value campsites and tasty beer, come high on my list of must haves.

And they aren't always that easy to find in the UK.


Just a thought...

History lesson

These days we take so much for granted: bright electric lights that allow us to see what we're doing irrrespective of the time of day or where we are; heat at the flick of a switch, and       food that's ready to eat and packed with calories.

I got a glimpse of what life might be like without these things by visiting a Tudor recreation at Kentwell house a month or so weeks ago. If you get the chance you should go - the house and grounds alone are worth it, but with populated by an entire household it's a truly engaging day out. 

Cheesetastic

What struck me most was just how bloody hard life was then. Cooking was over an open fire every meal every day, not just when it seemed a nice idea. The ingredients you had was what you had grown or slaughtered yourself. No shops, no Ocado. Even the cheese had to be made from scratch (and of course from a bit of calves stomach). 

So of course, meat was rare (unless you're one of the gentry) and every bit of everything is used. Real nose to tail dining. 

Potage was a lot of dried beans and a few veg. 

And there was no sugar. 

Honey, maybe. Apples and plums for sure.

Chewy beer

But none of the white stuff (though Raleigh and the rest of the exploring capitalists would soon be sailing the world and stealing whatever wasn't nailed down). 

Beer was thin and weak (no sugar to turn into alcohol) but preferable to the water from the moat! Not quite a modern IPA I can tell you.





The day after, I took part in the round London Sportive. 100 kms round the North Downs and including ZigZag road up Box Hill. And here, energy in the form of gels, drinks or even jelly babies was in abundance. Cheap, plentiful energy whenever you wanted it. And boy, did us middle aged men (for the most part) in frankly unflattering lycra want it. You'd think we hadn't been fed for days as an unruly queue formed at the feeding stations jammed their mouths with brightly coloured sweeties.

Not surprising I guess, given that my Runkeeper log reckons I spent 2,367 calories getting around the course. 

Probably not nearly as much as it took to work in the fields in the late 16th century. 

I don't really know what I'm trying to say here - except that we should be grateful that we live in a time when we can do things like cycle 100kms just for the hell of it. 

Cooking or carving? No contest

Well, this is certainly a first. Nearly 1 year and 23 posts on and here I am recommending ready meals. The horror, the horror.

But before you all decide to never read this blog again, ever, at least consider my defence.

There are some occasions when food has to take a back seat and no where is this more true than the dads' surfing weekend.

After months of debate a date has been fixed - well in advance of having any idea of what the swell will be like. A lovely holiday cottage has been rented. Complicated pick up rotas have be
agreed.

Only two things are certain:

1. Leaving London on the Friday will be long and painful
2. If the waves are any good we will want to spend as much as possible on them (or in my case in them)

Which is when the ready meal as supplied by the Waitrose £10 dinner for two comes into it's own.

Rather have than 4 grown men stumble round a supermarket trying vainly to come up with some kind of coherent menu, in 20 minutes I have spent £41.95 (bizarrely not buying a 4th bottle of wine adds to the price!) and got starter, mains, puds and wine all sorted.

Simply bung it in a coolbox, sling in an ice block and load it alongside boards, wetsuits and the rest of the essentials. 

Then, when you finally arrive in Wales some hours later, you can turn the oven up high and be eating a pretty tasty pizza with salad in about 15 minutes. Which compares favorably with trying to find a restaurant where the kitchen will stay open after 9.45, which isn't a curry house).
So that's Friday sorted.

And Saturday is equally easy. No need to cut short your attempts to perfect our bottom turn (crouch, reach with the arm opposite to your front foot and lean into the rail since you ask). By the time you get back after you have finally struggled out of your wetsuit and had that post surf beer, it will be later than you think. But again the ready meal is your friend. Place in oven and heat through while you have a shower and try to get the last few grains of sand out of your ears.

Now I appreciate that to some eyes, this post could show me as a total impostor - all my talk of the importance of cooking fresh, real ingredients disappearing like oil into a frying aubergine  when things get tricky.

And those eyes may be right.

But in the final analysis, as a wannabee surfer based in the smoke, the point of these weekends is to be in the water. And anything, but anything, that will help maximise that, is worth it.

Including looking like something out of Woody Allen's "Everything you wanted to know about sex...." 

Fact.

Black is so flattering.