Corpulent Capers

I generally go to Brecon about once a month, usually on the second Saturday, to coincide with the Farmers Market. After a hard morning buying the finest local produce, lunch at the local hostelry is normally called for. Occasionally MrsA will demand a lunch upgrade and just to be sure her wish was granted, she’d booked us a table at the Felin Fach Griffin.

Now I’ve been to the Griffin quite a few times, both for dinner and lunch, which should already tell you something; so I had no problem with MrsA’s choice. After stocking up on stuff for the larder and the freezer, we jumped in the car and headed for the large pink building on the side of the A470 that proclaims “Eat, Drink, Sleep”.

After a quick perusal of the menu, we both decided to go for the Summer Set Lunch which is a bit of a bargain at £18.90 for three courses.

For starters I chose the Salad of Chicken Livers & Endive with Black Pudding & Pancetta, while MrsA had the Brown Shrimp Cocktail with Melba Toast. My salad was excellent, with the chicken livers cooked to perfection, rich in flavour whilst still being soft, moist and pink on the inside. The endive providing a nice texture contrast along with the pancetta whilst counterbalancing the richness of the livers and black pudding.

MrsA’s shrimp was good but by far not the best starter that she has had at the Griffin. The shrimp were too delicate for that Marie Rose cocktail sauce; the sauce was way too big for those tiny shrimp.

For mains we both chose the Slow Roasted Shoulder of Welsh Lamb, Sharpe’s Express Potatoes, Garden Peas, Fine Beans & Feta Cheese. Let me get the worst of this dish over with first, the Feta Cheese. It was a really nice Feta and I totally get why it was there, it was bringing some saltiness into the dish and worked well with the potatoes and veg. The trouble was that it totally overpowered the delicate flavour of the lamb, killed it stone dead in fact. The dish really needed a much milder version to work. Employing a little ingenuity we came up with a simple solution to the problem; we both just ate all the cheese first!

With the cheese gone, we could concentrate on the rest of the dish and this was a dish that demanded full concentration. The lamb was juicy and succulent with a lovely delicate flavour, the potatoes expertly seasoned and the peas and beans super fresh. Top notch!

For dessert MrsA went for the Dark Chocolate Nemesis with Mango Sorbet, whilst I opted for the New Season Plum “Crumble” with Mascapone Ice Cream. The plums, cooked halved, were a little too “new season” for my taste; still a little too acidic and not quite soft enough. The crumble and the ice cream were right on the money though and almost managed to rescue things. Almost but not quite. MrsA was in a chocolate craving mood and loved her very intense chocolate dessert balanced by the lightness of the tropical sorbet.

Despite the few minor niggles I’ve outlined above, you’ll be hard pressed to find a better lunch for the money. The Griffin uses the finest of Welsh ingredients and for the most part, combines them in innovative ways that are delectable. With good food, friendly and helpful staff and plenty of atmosphere; if you’re anywhere near Brecon you really should pay a visit.

The Felin Fach Griffin, Felin Fach, Brecon, Powys. Tel: 01874 620111. Web: www.eatdrinksleep.ltd.uk

Have you read Anthony Bourdain’s book Kitchen Confidential? Right at the start he describes how as a child he’d eat anything. By anything I’m not talking about lumps of coal or bits of wood but anything edible that nearly all children and most adults would shy away from, you know things like raw oysters or roasted yak gizzard. As a child I, on the other hand, would only eat beans on toast and only then if the beans were made by someone with 57 varieties. I never quite realised what a nightmare this must have been for my parents when we were out and about and although I grew out of it after a year or so there were still a few other food taboos; I was well into my teens before I could put the white of an egg in my mouth without gagging, for instance.

I can’t remember when things changed but thanks to parents, who had grown up with rationing, today’s “eating nose to tail” movement is old hat to someone who fondly remembers the joys of fried liver, devilled kidneys, stuffed hearts and the like. So by the time I was able to drive myself to restaurants I had conquered my food phobia’s and was pretty much up for trying anything once. There are still things I don’t eat but these days that’s either because I simply don’t like the taste (celery, liquorice, celeriac) or it just doesn’t do it for me (prawns, welks and the like).

Now my friend T is different, he didn’t manage to break away from those early hangups so the list of don’t eats is still long. Basically he doesn’t eat fish (of any kind), venison, duck, offal, páte, vegetables, wait let me stop there and come at this from the other side it’ll be quicker. T eats beef, lamb, pork and occasionally chicken, these meats need to come in the regular cuts like fillet, sirloin, rack etc. He eats potatoes and he eats peas. That’s about it really, until you get to desserts, which are pretty much all good, especially if they contain chocolate. A man of simple tastes you might say, but a man of simple tastes that likes dinning out.

So, why am I telling you all this? Well because dinner with T requires advance notice of the menu. You see as I’ve said T likes dining out, as do I, but there’s no point going to places where the menu is going to be a cross between a sushi bar and a “creative uses of innards” competition. So when T called and offered to take myself and MrsA out for belated birthday celebrations in her honour, I found myself in that dilemma of wanting to try something new but knowing I needed, if not a more traditional menu, then at least one with plenty of choice. Where to go?

Until recently I’d always thought of Llansantffraed Court Hotel as primarily a wedding venue as opposed to somewhere to go for dinner, but then I’d run into @chefbennett01 on Twitter and discovered they were just as happy to feed two as two hundred. So after one phone call, a few quick tweets and a hasty rearranging of his schedule we were booked in and chef was in the kitchen.

The first thing you notice about the place is the absolutely stunning location. Set in 20 acres of private park land with it’s own lake and fountains, this Grade 2 Listed building has been a hotel since the 1920’s and boasts 21 rooms all with excellent views, says its website. “Enough!”, I hear you cry. “Get back to the food and the point of that long, rambling introduction.”

OK back to the plot! So my heart sank a little when, sitting on the terrace enjoying an aperitif, Chef appeared to tell us that, seeing as it was a bit of a special occasion (MrsA’s belated birthday remember?), as well as the normal dinner menu he’d put together a little tasting menu for us, if we were so inclined. We were of course under no obligation but if we did, it would obviously work better if we all had the same thing. Hence my dismay! One quick look at this menu told me there was no way T was going to be happy eating most of the courses. An opinion that was reinforced by the expression on T’s face! However Chef promised he could provide one set of plates that contained no fish and T magnanimously agreed to come along for the ride. A big thank you for that T, as I know there was a lot more on that menu that you wouldn’t have ordered in a million years given the choice!

We started with Madgetts farm duck ‘jambon, squash and rillettes cannelloni. The surprise here was the complete lack of pasta, it’s place in the cannelloni actually being taken by the squash, which was cut thin and served raw, introducing an interesting crunch of texture.

The next course was seared mackerel, mirin pickled cucumber, mackerel mousse, truffle and honey and soy dressing. I was a little worried about this dish, because I felt the mousse had the potential for disaster and I was also concerned how the honey was going to work with such an oily fish. I needn’t have been either worried or concerned. The mousse was light and delicate and the dressing had just enough acidity to cut through the oiliness of the fish, producing a wonderfully balanced dish.

Forty eight hour pork belly, anchovy beignet, bread sauce, beer cured onions came next. Now belly pork, in my opinion, needs the crunch of good salty crackling and cooking sous-vide does not for crackling make. So maybe you could ‘cheat’ and prepare your crackling separately or maybe you could serve anchovies instead? Yes anchovies! “Don’t they go with lamb and not pork” you ask? Well I thought so too, but not in Chef Bennett’s kitchen! There they are turned in anchovy beignet and if you were expecting that to be a bit like the topping on a deep fried pizza you couldn’t be further from the truth. Surprisingly they work very well with the pork and in beignet form they provide a nice salty crunch that makes up for the lack of traditional crackling. The skill of course is in ensuring that they don’t overpower the pork and here they managed only to enhance the flavour and not kill it.

We moved on to caramelized scallop, pickled calf’s tongue, soubise. Consider your average surf and turf, this will usually be steak and lobster. Even if you subscribe to the philosophy that the concept is purely to put the two most expensive things on the same plate then at least those things can hold their own in the flavour stakes. It takes a brave man to take something as delicate as a scallop and consider putting beef with it. It takes a very brave man to take a part of the cow where the flavour is intensified and put that with a scallop. I’m not sure I want to describe what sort of man pickles that part of the cow first and then puts it with a scallop! The description of the man that does that and pulls it off is Steve Bennett!

Next up twice cooked Bryn Derw farm free range chicken, confit celeriac, girolles, asparagus, tarragon. There are two things on this plate I would never order in a restaurant. The first is the celeriac. I hate celeriac! The second the chicken, but now only because I know that MrsA can and does cook up a fine chicken so what’s the point in paying for it in a restaurant? So I asked MrsA what she thought of the dish. She thought the quality of the chicken was outstanding. The cooking technique enhanced the quality of the chicken as it was moist and very tasty, the confit and girolles complementing the delicate flavour of the chicken. An excellent dish she said and who am I to argue, I even ate the celeriac!

First of the desert selection was rhubarb ‘cheesecake’, sorbet, pistachios. A nice balance between the tang of the rhubarb and the smooth creaminess of the cheesecake. The pistachios cleverly re-introducing the crunch normally provided by the biscuit base and the sorbet cleansing the palate with every mouthful.

Last of the sweet courses was bitter chocolate mousse, popcorn jelly, gold, Baileys ‘shake’. The popcorn jelly was the surprise here, not what was expected. The texture was definitely jelly but instead of a traditional sweet jelly, here we we had a salty one. This might have sent me running for the hills if it were not for the fact that it worked so well with the bitter chocolate mousse. This was a great fun dessert and it was nice to see our chef has a sense of humour.

We closed our evening off with a cheese board with a good selection of welsh cheeses followed by coffee and homemade petit fours.

There is some debate amongst my friends about “Tasting Menus”. Some feel they are an over indulgence that should be avoided. I, on the other hand, find them intriguing. Especially when I’m eating some where for the first time. I like the Tasting Menu because the chef is basically saying “I’m going off on a journey, do you want to come along for the ride and see what I can do?”

Tonight @chefbennett01 took us on a journey and it was a bit of a magical mystery tour around the ingredient cupboard. Combining flavours in unusual and interesting ways is something he obviously excels at. I was impressed by his ability to balance flavours and how he recreated the traditional elements of dishes by highlighting the tastes and textures of non-traditional combinations.

There are not many places where I would be happy to eat anything made of celeriac, but this is one. Even T, who it must be said took a few fish free detours to get to his destination, discovered that there were a few more parts of an animal that were edible, a few more taste combinations that were palatable and also that there were a few tasty vegetables besides the pea.

The Abergavenny Food Triangle has become a bit of a foodie destination due to a few well know eateries and their equally well known chefs. I think Llansandffraed Court Hotel with Steve Bennet in the kitchen can hold it’s own with the rest of them. ‘Nuff said!

Where are we going Saturday?” is a familiar phrase in Corpulent Towers. “Time for somewhere new”, I said reaching for the phone. Both of the places I had in mind were already fully booked and so I headed to Google for some inspiration. Out of my results I picked “The Clytha Arms” on the old Abergavenny to Raglan Road. Previously mentioned in a few ‘guides’ I was pleased to find that a reservation for two at 7.00pm was no problem.

When we arrived the place was buzzing. There were at least 20 people standing outside and being a mild evening not all of them were smokers. Inside was packed, the bar was full as was the lounge, but we fought through to the lounge bar closely followed by a young lady who turned out to be the barmaid come waitress. She seemed very surprised to find the place as busy as it was. As there was no seating available we opted to go straight to our table in the restaurant.

It was at this point that we realised that the majority of the customers were there to attend a private party in the rear dinning room.  Either they were early or the party was late as the staff were running around at high speed trying to organise everything. Even after the party were seated the staff remained stretched all night and service was at best patchy.

I decided to start with chorizo and lentil soup, whilst MrsA went for the crab rissoles. I was expecting a hearty soup with lentils and chunks of chorizo but what I got was certainly not that.  Firstly the lentils were of the very small variety and there were no meaty chunks of chorizo, instead it appeared as if the chorizo had been put through a blender as the only thing that remained that could remotely be reminiscent of that fine Iberian sausage were a few flecks of orange in the muddy brown contents of my bowl.  In fact the only solid matter other the lentils was a single solitary piece of what I can only describe as a 1/2 mm thick slice of a certain product that labels itself “a bit of an animal”!  The flavour was as poor as the appearance being slightly reminiscent of a watery brown windsor as opposed to the hearty and tasty dish I was expecting. Very unimpressive! MrsA’s starter of crab rissoles with chilli and coriander sauce, not only looked better but tasted nicer too. Unfortunately ‘tasted nicer’ pretty much equates to tasted OK in this instance with a distinct lack of crab in the crab rissoles..

For main course I had chosen goat, not something you often find on a menu in South Wales.  “How is it cooked?” I had asked. Apparently it was braised, and served in a red wine sauce. Sounded good so I had gone with it. MrsA had chosen the skate wings with prawns. Well braised it may have been but certainly not for long enough, so instead of falling apart it clung together with the resistance of blocks of rubber. The red wine sauce hadn’t been reduced enough and so had remained thin and bitter.

I asked MrsA, a fishaholic, what she thought of the skate wings. “I’ve never had skate before,” she said. “So I don’t know if I don’t like skate or if they didn’t cook it well, but as I pretty much like every other fish there is……..”

MrsA decided to cut her losses and skip dessert, whilst I opted for a simple meringue with ice cream and sauce. It wasn’t fantastic but it was the best thing I ate all evening. After a herbal tea, a coffee and a long wait for the bill we paid up and left.

During our time in the restaurant I noticed that at another table one main course didn’t turn up and by the time the kitchen had rustled it up the other diners had almost finished. A third table needed to send a plate back for some reason.

A poor show all round I’m afraid from a place that has the very best of Welsh produce almost on its doorstep and I certainly won’t be rushing back.

The Clytha Arms http://www.clytha-arms.com/

Nantyffin Cider Mill

It’s not the first time I’ve been to the Nantyffin Cider Mill, a shocking pink structure on the A40 just outside Crickhowell that can trace its history back to the 16^th century. It is, however, the first time I’ve had Sunday lunch there, but Mrs A had declared the kitchen a no go zone that weekend so off we went.

We chose to eat in the restaurant, an old converted apple store, over the cosier bar as it’s such a nice room. Split over two levels, the lower with its large central mill wheel,  it benefits from exposed beams and a high ceiling that give it an airier feel than one might expect.  Settling down to the menu, I chose the Greek Mezze Plate as a starter – Lamb kebabs with just a nice “bite” to them accompanied by a lovely fresh tasting Greek Salad and pitta bread. Mrs A loved the Grilled Goats Cheese and Caramelised Onions served on a toasted crumpet.

We both opted for the Roast Rump of Welsh Beef for main, served pink with roast potatoes and a light but crispy Yorkshire pudding. We split a side of Cauliflower florets in tempura batter with grated parmesan.   The beef was excellent with bags of taste, nothing like those wafer thin slivers of overcooked leather you can so often find on your Sunday pub lunch plate.  No, this was prime locally sourced beef and proud of it.

After a suitable period of “umming and ahhing”, fooling no one but ourselves we did what we always knew we would and ordered dessert, or as the menu traditionally puts it “pudding”.

Mrs A, not normally a lover of such things, decided that the whole lunch had been “so British” that she had no choice but to continue the theme with a Fruits of the Forest Trifle.  I on the other hand was drawn to the Homemade apple and cinnamon oat top crumble.  Mrs A’s trifle lifted itself way above the sherry flavouring and soggy angel fingers of the supermarket trifle to deliver a lovely combination of summer flavours.

How I wish I could say the same of the Crumble. If was, for me, a disappointment.  I had ordered it with cream although my first mouthful was without.  It was certainly “oaty” but the consistency of the oats made it more of a ‘chew’ than a crunchy topped crumble. A generous pouring of cream failed to improve matters and I simply gave up as it was so not to my taste.  The staff were most upset that I didn’t like it and offered to exchange it for something else without any prompting from me, but I decided to do my waistline a favour and we just settled for a coffee.

Overall this was a very good lunch. We will certainly go back again; I just won’t order the crumble next time!  Some I’m sure would appreciate its oatiness, I’m just not one of them and it would probably work better with the custard for those that want to try.

For the quality of the food I thought it was very reasonably priced at 1 course for £11.00, 2 courses for £15.50 or 3 courses for £19.50. http://www.cidermill.co.uk

It’s 25 miles from Aberdare to Cardiff and nearly 20 of that is dual-carriageway. So leaving home at 1.45pm to catch the 2.55pm to London Paddington should have been a breeze.  The atmosphere inside of my car however turned from breezy to ice fields of Antartica when I arrived in Cardiff to discover the Kingsway had more holes than a Emmental and more cones than a pine forest.  With the clock ticking Mrs A was becoming less and less impressed with my pre-planning.

Eventually we got through and sped down Westgate St to find the Station car park full.  The drive to the Penarth Road Car Park was probably the longest of my life as Mrs A quietly fumed beside me.  We pretty much abandoned the car and ran (no mean feat as those of you that know me will appreciate. For those that don’t well let’s just say I was built for comfort and not for speed) for the platform.  I made the top of platform stairs just as the guard was closing the door and fortunately still had enough breath left to scream “STOP!”.

I don’t think we’d got two steps into the carriage before the train lurched off and it was fully Newport before I’d got my breath back enough to use British Rails clever pay for parking by mobile phone to save myself a ticket.

The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful and Mrs A had even started to see the funny side by the time we got to London. Our Kensington hotel room had a few issues with the A/C which meant 2 room changes but eventually we were sorted, showered and changed ready to hit the town.

We had travelled up to meet Mrs A’s friend Nagmeh, from Chile, who was in London for 2 weeks with her work. However, tonight it was just the two of us and I had booked a table at ‘Theo Randall’s at the InterContinental’, Park Lane.

Theo Randall

We had seen him cook on Saturday Kitchen and then mentor on Masterchef so a trip to his restaurant was on our must do list.

The hotel arranged a taxi, it was an owner/driver operation just set up to service the local hotels and provide a service that was 25% cheaper than a black cab. We were their first ever passengers and I would have felt honoured except for the fact that they ended up charging us about 25% MORE than a black cab would have and did on the way home.

So I arrived at the InterContinental feeling a little apprehensive. We’ve all had one of those days that go from bad to worse, right?  Would we end the day on a catastrophic note or could Theo pull us back from the brink?

The foyer of the InterContinental is all you’d expect being a homage to marble and gilt.  Down a few steps from the doors is the main area and on the right is a short passage way, discreetly lettered with ‘Theo Randall’.

Arriving at the other side we were met by the friendly Maître d’ who offered us the choice of straight to table or drink at the bar.  We chose the latter  as it gave us a little extra time to study the menu, which is divided into Antipasti, Primi and Secondi.

This is Italian food at its finest, as Theo says ‘unfussy yet utterly delicious, a million miles away from the complicated fancy fare you would normally expect to eat in Park Lane.’

The Maître d’ was happy to answer our questions about the menu and told us that whatever we wanted them to do if they could they would.  Even to the extent that if we wanted ½ of our main course on each plate that wasn’t a problem.

Feeling more relaxed we decided to split an Antipasti of Carpaccio di manzo – thinly sliced Aberdeen Angus beef fillet with rocket, aged balsamic  vinegar, parmesan and pinenuts. Mrs A them moved to a Primi of Tagliatelle al pescatore – fresh pasta with squid, sea bass, vongole. Mussles, tomato and parsely; whilst I opted for Cappelletti di vitello – fresh pasta stuffed with slow cooked veal and pancetta with summer truffles from Umbria. Both were delightful!

For Secondi I plumped for Piccione al forna – Anjo pigeon marinated with marsala, wood roasted and served on pagnotta bruschetta with fresh cannellini beans, ox-heart tomatoes and pancetta. Mrs A chose Taglio di vitello – chargrilled Limousin veal chop with Chanterelle mushrooms, Italian spinach and salsa verde.  These were both full of flavours to die for, with every taste being defined yet cohesive.  You can tell that this is seasonal cooking at its best, and that chef and staff go to the markets every morning in search of fresh produce you believe them not only because you trust them but because you can taste it.

Decor

The restaurant itself is larger than I expected and there is an area at the rear that is not normally open as it is too hard to service properly. I guess this becomes the area for private dining when the rich and famous are in town.  An average Friday sees 140 covers according to the wait staff with 185 possible with the rear open.  Despite this and the lack of windows it manages to achieve and interesting ambiance, it has the feel of a hotel dining room about it with its brown on brown colour scheme but also manages to bring in the relaxed atmosphere that Randall says he is striving for. During the evening we saw everyone from Italian suited high flyers to jean clad fathers with sleeping babies swaddled to them.

Taking a short rest before dessert we were approached by the Maître d’. After the usual enquiry as to our enjoyment and satisfaction he, quite out of the blue said, “Chef Randall is in the house this evening and was wondering if you would like come and meet him and take a tour of the kitchen?” Well what do you say to an invitation like that?  Handing him back the arm I had just ripped off I sort of nodded in agreement and was told that someone would be along shortly to act as escort.

A few minutes later she arrived and whisked off to the kitchen were Chef Randall was waiting, pink of face, no doubt due to the heat of his prized wood-fired oven, to greet us at the ‘pass’. He was welcoming, engaging and not at all pretentious. We discussed dinner, kitchen size and Masterchef before moving on to chat to some of his staff, confirming to me at least that life in a top kitchen was nothing if not hard, hard work.

Back at our table, Mrs A wondered if Chef would sign a menu for us. “He’d love to!” Not only did we get the signed menu we got the fancy little monogrammed stainless steel clip as well.

All that talking and touring had revived our appetites and dessert was called for. Me, I have a love/hate relationship with the lemon. I love it if it is strong and tart; hate it if it is just a hint. Don’t put a single slice in my drink but do give me a whole one to squeeze over my fish or chicken! I felt I could trust my new friend Theo with a lemon and so ordered the Amalfi Lemon Tart. Mrs A felt a more delicate Peach Sorbet was called for.

Amalfi Lemon Tart

The peach sorbet was everything a sorbet should be she said. The lemon tart wasn’t! It was much, much more; the standard by which all lemon tarts will now be judged. I will probably never taste another one like it until I go back again.

Before coffee I slipped to the little boys’ room. If you are fortunate enough to dine here then you have to visit the loos, to see the designer sinks where the water runs off plates of frosted glass into the wall. Mrs A was despatched to the ladies to confirm the same arrangement.

A rich, mellow Espresso rounded off a great evening.

To sum up, this was without a doubt one of the best meals I have ever eaten. Certainly not the most complicated or constructed using the finest techniques but in terms of taste and enjoyment certainly a culinary high spot. Frankly I can live without the foams and the spun sugar creations that look wonderful but often leave your taste buds flaccid and un-excited. Cost – Hugely Expensive! It’s Park Lane after all.   Read any review, they’ll all mention how expensive it is, but everyone will also tell you what a great meal they had and how it was worth nearly every penny.  Me? I’m saving up to go again.