The Rosendale - Time Out Gastropub of the Year and YES, IT'S IN SOUTH EAST LONDON!!!

Rejoice! Rejoice! None other than the London bible Time Out has deigned to put on its mining helmet and shine its torch on the dimly lit and forgotten coalface of London, the one that bears the postcode SE.

For this year in its Eating and Drinking Awards, it has awarded Gastropub Of The Year to The Rosendale in West Dulwich proving that civilisation does exist south of the river. So take note you 'northern' mugs from Barnsbury to Broadway Market, maybe you'd like to come down and visit us for a change! Contrary to popular belief, South East London isn't in Kent, you're unlikely to catch the pox, and Millwall fans are a surprisingly quiet bunch (unless you happen to be on the 2.15 from London Bridge to Bermondsey on a Saturday afternoon).

Anyway I shouldn't really have to extol the virtues of SE. Down here it's Simply Exquisite, Surprisingly Erudite, and Snozdangley Erbumbatious.

But I digress. The Rosendale is really a very good restaurant indeed. Hectic on a Sunday lunchtime, but smashing grub nonetheless. I had the best (home) smoked salmon ever with a light horseradish cream (5 Gold Stars), and then a plate stacked with Saddle of Lamb and crunchy veg. Delish. Go there, travel from far and wide, read the 20 odd page wine list. It's an absolute gem.

Bacchus

After all that cooking, it was definitely time for a couple of days off. It's always a pleasure to have the in-laws over - they come laden with gastronomic delights: foie gras, champagne, Swiss chocolate and this time, an interesting bottle of fig balsamic which I can't wait to try. It's great that they appreciate the good things in life! Every time they come to London we try to take them somewhere unusual and this time we chose Bacchus in Hoxton.

We're so spoilt for restaurants in London that it's rare that we go back to the same place twice, even if the meal has been great. Bacchus is the exception. The menu changes every month and the experience is so different each time that we have now been back on three occasions. I don't think there's another restaurant in London that is as inventive and on many dishes it really does challenge The Fat Duck and L'Enclume in Cartmel for inspired flavour and texture combinations. All three of these restaurants, and WD-50 in New York have proved to be hugely entertaining dining experiences, provoking interesting debate around the table.

On Saturday we had the 6 course taster menu with wine pairing, and at the end of the meal I think a few of us wished we'd gone for the 9 course. For me the stand out dish was Calamar a La Plancha with squid ink porridge, slow roasted coconut, lime leaf oil and powder and a foam of lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves, but all the other dishes sparkled with originality as well.



I have to say i can't imagine ever being able to produce food like that.

On the two previous occasions we had been to Bacchus the restaurant had been nearly empty but I'm happy to say on Saturday night they were fully booked. Despite its somewhat isolated and famously gritty location, it does appear that word is spreading and diners are making the journey over to Hackney. I don't think it will be long until it picks up its first Michelin star. In my eyes it certainly deserves it.

Rabbit Terrine (Vegetarians and Rabbit lovers DO NOT READ ON)

What is it about rabbits that makes some people feel guilty about eating them? Is it their big doleful eyes? Their bushy little tails? The way they lollop playfully around the countryside? In another post I discussed the defensive qualities of some plants that help them to survive. Animals are blessed with them too. Some have hard exoskeletons that act as protective shields, others have spikes and venomous bites. Men have guns.

A rabbit's best form of defence against human predators is to look cute.

Well sorry Bugs, it doesn't work on me. I'm no Glen Close but I'm quite happy to get stuck into a bit of bunny. Maybe it's because I've never read Watership Down or had a rabbit as a pet.

Whatever, a rabbit generally has a fairly active life involving lots of potholing, the odd bit of swinging, and rivers of illegal moonshine that they brew in their subterranean speakeasies. Well that's what I've heard anyway.

I think in comparison to battery hens and veal calves, rabbits have things pretty good.

There are two rabbit dishes I've been keen to to make. One is Mark Hix's Stargazy Pie from Great British Menu. The other a Rabbit Terrine with Celeriac Remoulade which I ate recently at Magdalen, my restaurant of the year so far. With a bit of time on my hands and 5 coming for dinner on Friday, I decided on the terrine as a starter.



I bought a whole wild rabbit from my local butcher and proceeded to remove all the flesh from the carcass - I think I may have inherited by father's surgical hands as it seemed a fairly painless and enjoyable process, although incredibly fiddly at the same time.




The rabbit leg meat was mixed with pork belly and chicken livers and marinated overnight in Armagnac, herbs, lemon juice and garlic. The following day I lined the terrine with bacon and filled it with the rabbit mixture, adding pistachio nuts and layering long pieces of rabbit saddle throughout the terrine to create a different texture. The terrine was cooked in a bain marie for 90 minutes and pressed overnight ready to be served on Friday evening accompanied by a mustardy celeriac remoulade.

Full on food

It's been a busy week and so I need to catch up on some posting. First thing to note: I probably weigh 5 kilos heavier than last week after several days of serious eating.

One positive outcome of not getting the pub job was that I could put some serious effort into cooking for the in-laws who would be visiting at the weekend. I've had a number of things in mind to cook so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try out some new techniques and use ingredients I've never handled before. I composed the following menu for Thursday:-


Morrocan Aubergine Charlottes
Open Oxtail Lasagna with Cauliflower Cheese Foam and Asparagus
Strawberry Vacherins






An Aubergine Charlotte makes for a visually stunning starter. They can be prepared ahead of time in moulds and quickly reheated before serving so perfect for dinner parties. I copied the presentation from a Gary Rhodes recipe but changed the filling to a mixture of aubergine and courgette, lightly spiced with smoked paprika, cumin and coriander to give a more Morrocan flavour. This is one of those dishes where impressive presentation can really add impact to what is a fairly simple plate to assemble, and the fragrance on cutting into the Charlotte is wonderfully aromatic.





I'm a huge fan of oxtail, both its rich meaty flavour and its sticky and stringy texture and preparing it allows me to indulge in my current favorite method of cooking - braising. The thing I love about braising is that you can prepare an amazingly flavoursome sauce at the same time as cooking the principle ingredient, all in the same pot. Oxtail is fantastic for this because when braised in red wine, the high amount of gelatin in oxtail renders down over the prolonged cooking period to leave a lovely, sticky sauce ready to serve as part of the final dish. The last time I served oxtail on the bone to Emilie, she wasn't that impressed so I came up with my own take on lasagna using home made egg pasta and a cauliflower cheese foam instead of bechamel. Result? Oxtail is now back on the menu chez Lien. Apologies for the blurry photo!

Trials and tribulations

On Saturday I went for a three hour trial in the kitchen of the newly refurbed Forest Hill Tavern. I was going to be helping the chef, a genial Scot imaginatively named Scott, prep for a function they were hosting that afternoon. By function, I mean Irish piss-up.

As expected, my primary duties were vegetable-based. Peeling and coring butternut squash, peeling carrots, chopping cabbage, and slicing tatties. I'd been told that the purpose of my trial was to see if I had any common sense, if I could spot when things needed doing and use my initiative. So I turned into what might have come across as an eagle-eyed speed freak with OCD. Every drip was wiped, every stray plate was rehoused, nothing was left to be washed up.

Scott the Scot seemed impressed with my attitude, my questions, and the fact that I washed up using hot soapy water which none of the other triallists had apparently managed. At the end of the three hours he said he was pretty sure he'd be seeing me again and promised to call me by Monday. I left with all fingers in tact, on a high, hoping for more.

Monday came and went without news. I waited like an anxious teenager, hoping for 10 A*s. Would I get the chance to be Scott's trainee and learn everything this well travelled chef would share with his eager apprentice?

Tuesday brought the answer, and the answer was no.

Apparently he trialled someone with more experience on Sunday, and has given the job to him. It seems he was after a specific degree of wetness behind the ears. Soaking was too wet after all and maybe he's found something between moist and damp that he's more comfortable with.

I have to say I'm gutted.

Beef Rendang

You know those dishes that are placed reverently in front of you in really great restaurants, the ones delicately constructed using a broad palette of harmonious colours, silky sauce lapping on juicy meat, and a fey garnish that crowns the tower like a Philip Treacy creation on Ladies Day at Ascot? Well Beef Rendang is not one of them.

When Beef Rendang was first created, it was well and truly beaten with the ugly stick. If it were a politician it would be Ann Widdecombe. If it were a sportsman it would be Wayne Rooney. A Z-lister? Step forward, Jade.

To be fair though, it does look slightly better than Andrew Lloyd Webber.

However, just like most of these ugly celebrities, Beef Rendang has hidden talents. Rooney is a very gifted footballer, Lloyd Webber can solve problems like Maria, and Ann Widdecombe..., well anyway, the unattractive sight of a bowl of Rendang says nothing about the wonder of its flavour.

Beef Rendang is slowly cooked over a number of hours which allows the spices and aromatics to really penetrate the meat. The coconut milk is reduced to a mere coating and thickened at the end with toasted coconut flesh, mashed to a pulp with a pestle and mortar. The citric tang of lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves and ginger comes through subtly in the end product. In authentic Rendang turmeric leaves are used, however I had to use powder instead. Apparently every Malay family has its own recipe for Rendang, just like every Italian family has its own recipe for tomato sauce.

And check out the picure. It's amazing what you can do with a few slices of julienned chilli. Hardly the make-up of make-up artists but it certainly makes a pile of brown slop look ready for a night out. Ann Widdecombe take note: make clever use of red chillies and eternal spinsterhood might not be such a certainty after all.

It's getting cold

Being at home is all well and good when the sun is shining and warm air is breezing through the house. When the leaves start to fall and the temperature drops, it's a sign to get out and find a job because quite frankly, on my budget heating a large Victorian house throughout the day is not really an option. Yesterday I responded to ad on Gumtree for a trainee chef to work locally, although it didn't specify the establishment. I called and it turned out to be a local Gastropub, about 15 minutes walk from home so I registered my interest and 15 minutes later was being interviewed by the Chef in the pub itself. He's looking for someone "wet behind the ears" (I'm positively soaking), who is passionate about food, has high standards, and wants to learn. I seemed to tick the right boxes so he invited me in for a 3 hour trial on Saturday lunchtime when they have a function for 34 people to cater for. It will be my first experience of a working kitchen in service and I'm really quite excited about the prospect.