Merchant House of Fleet Street

I'm in the City on a blustery Friday night at the close of what has been, frankly, a rather depressing week globally speaking (yes another one) but the weather doesn't dissuade gaggles of junior city boys wrapped up in their winter uniform of Barbour and Superdry jackets from nursing pints whilst clustered in groups outside the pubs of Fleet Street. Weaving in and out of the various huddles as I make my way through the winding alleys that flank Fleet Street and I'm starting to despair of ever finding my destination. St Bride's Avenue, St Bride's Place; it's a veritable warren. One last turn down the small passage of St Bride's Court and it's there; Merchant House of Fleet Street. Any fears I had harboured that a whisky bar in the heart of the City could only possibly be populated by red faced noisy conversations of golf courses and competitive Speyside versus Islay debates were quickly allayed. Merchant House is a softly lit haven of comfy velvet covered chairs and not a braying idiot in sight. 

For, whilst Samuel Johnson may have said that when a man is tired of London he is tired of life, this girl can tell you she is definitely tired of standing around outside London's bars. What I need in the onset of my elderly dotage is a nice corner table where I can survey the territory and ask kind people to bring me food and drinks. I'd like to think that Dr Johnson would have agreed with that sentiment. 

The bar's website proclaims a list of over 500 whiskies and an entire high-ceilinged wall is dedicated to shelf after shelf of amber nectar. Bottles are sorted by approximate price from left to right and the higher up the shelf you go the higher the price. This saves any embarrassment of realising that you've just ordered a rare whisky the price of a shot of which could be the GDP of a small country. 

The food list is minimal- think cheese platters, smoked salmon, saucisse and the perhaps comparatively more esoteric honey glazed octopus- but provides enough sustenance to get you through another cocktail before leaving in search of more robust belly-filling delights. 

What did come as a surprise was how approachable the bar made whisky; the (all female) staff were eager to talk about what style of whisky you might like and recommend cocktails to fit your taste. Whilst cocktails are imaginative, well made and beautifully presented they aren't cheap at around £12 each. My favourite was a Tartan Pimpernel; a blend of Islay whisky, bee pollen & raspberry wine with a spot of aloe water. A most odd combination of ingredients to have dreamt up but it worked very well. 















The Emigre was also a surprisingly light cocktail (pot still whisky, apple, rhubarb & elderflower). More traditional whisky based classics are also on offer- an old-fashioned was beautifully made. 

Despite the Scottish sounding cocktails, the whiskies on offer go well beyond the shores of the UK and Ireland with a good range of bourbons and Japanese whiskies too. A particular favourite with our group was the 1792 from Bardstown in Kentucky, oozing vanilla and sweetness making a great contrast to the smoky Islay whisky I'd been sipping on earlier. This bourbon comes with pedigree having been awarded an IWSC Gold award in 2013 as well as whole host of other accolades. You can find out more about it here.

The same team have another bar down the road at Merchant House of Bow Lane specialising this time in rum and gin. A visit is on the cards very soon....

Merchant House of Fleet Street
8 Bride Court, London. EC4Y 8DU.

Wine of the Week: Blanquette de Limoux

My wine of the week this week was discovered during the recent Tesco Finest Pop Up wine bar in Soho.  It was a fabulous marketing idea and I wish it could have been there for longer than a fortnight but, as I’m sure the staff would attest to, I gave the wine list a good going over whilst it was there.  Who can complain at a sleek bar with bouncers ensuring it doesn’t get too busy and wines on show at between £3-7 a glass? Especially when I tell you that the £7 one was vintage champagne....

I worked out that I tried 15 of the wines on offer and whilst there were a couple of less than great ones (the enigma of a low cost but excellent Chateauneuf-du-Pape remains elusive) I was bowled over by several of them. I have got into the rather short-sighted habit of thinking that it’s not worth drinking anything under £10 a bottle. We’ve all heard the tales about the value of actual wine in the bottle once you’ve accounted for tax, duty, import costs etc. Well, I was wrong. Yes, I will repeat that as it’s a rare day when I admit to it but – I. Was. Wrong.

Wine of the Week: Bobos Finca Casa La Borracha 2013 #WineWednesday

I am of the opinion that Bobal is a seriously underrated grape as are the resulting wines. Google it and you're hard pushed to find more than a handful of examples for sale in the UK despite its reasonable price point and approachable character. Anyway, more on the grape Bobal more generally in an upcoming Wine Grape Challenge post, for today I'm focused on one very particular Bobal that has made it to the top of the pile to be my wine of the week.

Bobos is made by Finca Casa La Borracha, a boutique winery run by three friends of mixed Spanish and Swiss nationality and located in the Utiel Requena area of the Valencia Region on the eastern coast of Spain. La Borracha make a series of wines from their 61 hectares of land all within 500 metres of the winery itself. 

All grapes are handpicked and fermented in 400 litre temperature controlled barrels. This is a high tech bodega with a focus on the highest quality- something that has not traditionally been the norm in the region. 

Chateau de Beaucastel - The Estate

If you had the choice of visiting any of the iconic Southern Rhone vineyards, Beaucastel would surely be close to- if not at the top of- your list. It certainly was mine and if I didn't feel lucky enough already waking to a bright and sunny morning in May then hearing that they only accept a few private visitors each year only served to emphasis my bonhomie. As we bumped down the lengthy drive past field after field of perfectly regimented vines (2m by 2m apart in case you are interested), our path was temporarily blocked by what looked like a tractor on steroids- wheels high above the ground. 

#WineGrapeChallenge 4: Hondarabbi Xuri

For those of the procreating variety half term dawns again and Facebook begins to be filled with humblebragging status updates about the queues at Gatwick or "treating myself to a glass of rose by the pool #blessed". For those of us not off sunning ourselves in foreign climes, knocking back cheap local plonk and thinking it’s the bee’s knees, spring can drag in the city.  Seemingly interminable rain showers make us wonder if summer might never arrive, or worse still has been and gone. Thankfully there has been the odd evening in the last couple of weeks like tonight when we can spend long evenings sat outside bars and restaurants behaving like we’re in the middle of San Sebastian rather than somewhere off Carnaby Street in the middle of Soho with a faint whiff of drains in the air. No matter- a hubbub of chatter and a plentiful supply of tapas can lead me to only one grape this week – Hondarrabi Zuri!

Martinis at Dukes

Another year, another January. I began, of course, full of good intentions for the year ahead starting with writing more often and making sure I do things on my bucket list (commencing with creating a bucket list). So here we are on the 31st with my first article. What my resolutions most certainly do not include, however, is drinking less.

I understand the rationale behind the current fad for “dry January” but thank goodness we are nearly at its end as temperance fundamentally makes absolutely no-one happy.  Not the person abstaining and certainly not the people around them because the ascetic is generally as miserable as sin. Social plans are ruined because one of the group isn’t drinking and doesn’t want to go to a cocktail bar. Bring into the equation the myriad of diets being touted around and eating out is off the agenda too which is a crying shame when, for once, you can actually get table reservations in most London restaurants.

#WineGrapeChallenge 2: Pedro Ximenez

It would be wrong of me not to dedicated my grape post for this week to Pedro Ximenez considering I've been exploring the wilds of its home, Andalucia. PX is most commonly known as by far the darkest and most syrupy of dessert wines; often cited as a rare match for chocolate dishes or good mainly for pouring on ice cream (although the latter might be a British thing). This is doubtless delicious but feels like what can be a bit of a waste of a better PX. It is true that many of the cheaper versions of PX served up in the UK are of the throat-itchingly cloying variety- lacking in acidity and essentially like attempting to drink liquidised raisins but a good PX can be a thing of beauty- balanced and mellow. If you are interested in how the sweet versions are made Bodegas Robles have a very good pictorial overview here

#WineGrapeChallenge 1: Nosiola

Entry number 1 of what I hope will be 1386.. The beginning of the Jancis 'Wine Grapes' Challenge. If you missed how it began the take a look here.

I promised that I wouldn't start this challenge with something run of the mill and pedestrian. I therefore hope you agree that a dry Nosiola from Trentino fits the bill nicely. Never heard of Nosiola? Nor me......

Starting the #WineGrapeChallenge

1386 different grape varieties. In a possibly ill-advised moment of insouciance I agreed to a challenge as something of a now very belated New year's resolution. To find and drink wines made from each and every one of the grapes featured in Jancis Robinson's bible of oenology; "Wine Grapes". A fit of bravado committed me to the project when the lady herself confirmed via Twitter that she didn't think anyone else had done it before. 

London House - NOW CLOSED

After a couple of years of sticking to casual dining and gastropub openings and following a battering in the headlines about mass produced microwave style meals, Gordon Ramsay is back with a proper restaurant and I liked it very much. I wonder whether it is no coincidence that he has opened it practically on his own doorstep in Battersea. After all its a market he must know very well. The site on the corner of Battersea Square has been something of a curse for the last decade. Many moons ago it was All Bar One then it languished void for ages before Bentley's moved in and redesigned the interior. That didn't last long either leading to another long period of emptiness. Its a shame as its a great site overlooking the square and only a hop and a skip from the river but the problem is that it is huge inside.

Here's hoping for Mr Ramsay that this one has some staying power - lord knows he could do with a success after a few years of bad news. Then again, it should succeed, it follows a very obvious template in the form of nearby Chez Bruce, a restaurant that the staff confirmed Ramsay frequents and somewhere that he took his core team in advance of London House opening. If it aint broke don't fix it I guess. There is plenty of money in the area for a good quality classic restaurant and as its been full practically every night since opening without a big PR fanfare then it must be working. 

Bread and butter are a simple but effective yardstick of a good restaurant for me; attention to detail and all that. At London House warm soft brown bread comes served in a nifty little hessian mock flour sack with a hidden compartment of warm wheat to keep the bread warm. Butter is both salted and softened; full marks so far...

One of many parallels that you can draw between the Chez Bruce/La Trompette/Glasshouse etc stable of restaurants and London House establishes itself. They all follow the three course fixed price model (£35 in the evening and £28 at lunch) and offers a similar style of modern British cooking focused on local ingredients. Such a style is arguably more Phil/Bruce than it is Gordon. The strategy to emulate their template becomes clear when you see the resumes of Irish chef Anna Haugh Kelly (who worked at The Square) and restaurant manager Paul Halliwell who was formerly of both La Trompette and the Glasshouse in Kew. 

I ordered the crab tortellini with seafood broth to see if it measured up to the Medlar classic

Completely different, they can't really be compared, as the broth is deeply savoury and flavoured and consommé clear; very well executed. The tortellini was filled with crab and scallop and soft as a pillow but a little over dominated by a pronounced lemon thyme flavour. 

Saintsbury Chardonnay was an excellent foil for the inordinately good chicken wings- a creamy malolactic richness fought back against the grease and spice of the wing coating.

Pork head croquettes matched with Gruner Veltliner from Schloss Gobelsurg were a less winning combination. A nose of distinct pear drops and rather too much acidity on the palate left the wine feeling distinctly unbalanced even despite the fatty croquettes and rich quail egg yolks.

Beef with braised shin potato gnocchi was perfection - well flavoured and seasoned meat, a deeply savoury sauce reduction and soft, springy gnocchi pan fried to a crisp. 

Venison with braised puy lentils was equally well executed. A perfectly rectangular, buttery soft fondant potato nestled in the corner of the dish. The problem with such well fashioned dishes is that they leave you wanting more. 

Perhaps the answer is that I'm just greedy (that wouldn't come as any great surprise to many) but the main course portions - and in particular the venison- were a little on the small side. I didn't leave hungry but I wasn't exactly stuffed. 


I have been increasingly keen on Lebanese red blends over the last few months so jumped on one I had never had before on the wine list. Lebanese Chateau Marsyas is more full bodied and powerful than other Bekaa Valley red blends like Musar and Ka with a heightened spiciness that worked well with all our dishes.  

Rum baba was soaked in Havana 7 year old dark rum and served with boozy steeped raisins. I have never knowingly said no to a rum baba. It might not be the most complex of dishes but by god are they good when made well and this one was. 

Chocolate tart served with jerusalem artichoke ice cream was as smooth and cloying as you might hope it to be but it was the Jerusalem artichoke ice cream that shone as the star of the dish and would definitely be copied in my kitchen if it wasn't for the fact that I bet it is a real fiddle to make. It's bad enough preparing an artichoke let alone then getting the intensity of flavour into an ice cream. I'm impressed. 

Nougatine was well made with a nice sharp coulis but not my cup of tea when either rum or chocolate are on offer. 

It was only on the way out that I noticed the bar. Its more of a lounge than a bar with a big open fire and fat welcoming sofas. The cocktail list is comprehensive and its definitely worth a visit regardless of whether you're dining.

I hope very much that London House will become a neighbourhood favourite on what has been a tricky site for over a decade. 

8/10

London House
7-9 Battersea Square, London. SW11
0207 5928545

Gin Mare - Happy World Gin Day!

The front doorbell rang last night and I opened it to a bag of gin being proffered forth. If only all visitors were quite so obliging. My excitement was dampened slightly when told said gin was purchased on holiday in Spain. 'Spain' and 'gin' are not two words commonly partnered so I anticipated that a final few excess Euros had been disposed of in Malaga Duty Free and braced myself for the worst. 

So often the local tipple tastes great when you're sat next to a pool with a sunburnt nose and a belly full of paella but the reality on arriving home can be quite different. So many poor, deluded souls (myself amongst them) have returned to Blighty claiming they've found "the most delicious thing that you really must try" before foisting it off on unsuspecting  relatives who sip away with fixed smiles knowing the ensuing hangover will be dire. Either that or sadistic friends knowingly bring something completely god-awful to taunt you with. This is surely the only possible explanation for the presence of any Metaxa ever on British shores?

Back to the gin. My innate suspicion deepened when I looked at the label and it was called 'Gin Mare'. "What as in 'nightmare'?"  I asked? Well more fool me, as it turns out that intended meaning of the "Mare" in question is more "Mar" i.e. sea in Spanish, than any kind of nightmare. The bottle is classy, made from heavy, blue-tinted glass and  a base shaped like a wave. But its not all about the packaging of course.

Sorry for the empty bottle in the photo. We drank it all.

On the nose the first thing that you get is a clear hit of black olive with a deep savoury character. On the palate, once the olive subsides a little, more subtle hints of rosemary come through accompanied by some basil. Of course the compulsory botanicals are in there; the juniper, the coriander seeds etc but they are very much background notes. This is an overwhelmingly savoury gin and is truly unlike any other that I've tasted. I'm a total heathen and can't stand tonic (that sweet tooth strikes again) so I mixed it with lemonade instead - I can almost hear the chorus of disappointed sighs- but that lifted the very savoury element for me. 

With the bottle empty we had to seek solace elsewhere. Carrying on the blue glass theme I dug out a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. I usually quite like Bombay Sapphire. Sure, its not the best gin on the market but its still quite a leap forward from a measure of Beefeater's. It really does then show quite how good Gin Mare is that the Bombay tasted bland and rather flat.

So am I being mean and again taunting you with unobtainable delicacies? Not this time, although granted a premium drink like this doesn't come cheap. There are places in the UK that stock it, one being Whisky Exchange online where it is £35 (and they have great customer service in my experience too). Slightly more accessible but a touch pricier is Waitrose at £38.25. If you're in the market for some gin this summer (and lets face it, who isn't?) do try it, I promise that its worth it!

Their website in English is here. Watch out if you've got your speakers turned up, its one of those sites that plays music at you. They can also be found on Twitter via @GinMare

The Hind's Head, Bray

When you mention the name Heston Blumenthal to most people they tend to think of crazy scientific gastronomic experimentation. Neither the Fat Duck nor Dinner are exactly 'normal' restaurants are they? 

So what have we here? Heston doing posh pub grub? And being awarded a Michelin star for it....

After finding out earlier this year   when we visited Waterside Inn how comparatively simple it is to get to Bray and still have a drink, we got on the Windsor train from Clapham Junction and set off. Three quarters of an hour later you arrive splat in the centre of Windsor (worth a wander in itself) and then a 10 minute cab journey out to Bray). If you're more team North London then get a train from Paddington to Maidenhead - its quicker still in terms of both train and cab. 

Grapefruit tea

Despite the enduring Roux family presence in the small village of Bray, its fair to say that Heston is doing something of a "Stein" and building up a mini empire in a very small area. The stable that started with the Fat Duck now includes not only the Hind's Head just down the road but also The Crown which was purchased in 2010 serving more down to earth pub food.  There are parallels between Dinner and The Hinds's Head in that both play greatly on the use of little known old recipes and the history of food - if anything it feels more authentic in the tudor style surroundings of the Hind's Head than the more opulent London Mandarin Oriental.



After a hair raising cab journey (crawling at 20 miles/hr in a 60 mile area than 40-50 in a 30 zone causing a snake of angry traffic behind us) we needed a drink. The cocktail list at HH is small but perfectly formed. 

Strawberry concoction

Grapefruit tea was beyond beautiful. A delicate earl grey flavour was infused throughout by virtue of both earl grey syrup and gin.  My starter for ten was a strawberry confection which was nice but not mindblowing. Rhubarb fizz was a delicate aperitif with beautiful candied rhubarb soaked in the bottom of a glass of champagne.

It must be virtually obligatory to begin any meal at HH with a scotch egg (or three). A perfectly soft boiled quail's egg is encased in slightly peppery, soft pork sausage and a dark orange salty crumb crust. Heston very publicly spent a lot of time perfecting the scotch egg which has been copied from here to eternity since but this one rocks. 

Having already eaten a scotch egg I decided to stay away from meat for the starter and fixed on the jasmine smoked salmon with dill cream and pickled beets. The jasmine flavour was subtle but undoubtedly present and the beets gently pickled and soft. The salmon wasn't particularly smoky (and I do love a good dose of smoke) but had it been then the jasmine would have been overpowered I fear. 

It was good smoked salmon without any doubt but it was no competition for the chicken liver brûlée which was out of this world. I rarely suffer from dish envy but today was unfortunately to be one of those days. I become an irritant to all around me when this happens as I will just end up inadvertently mooning with puppy dog eyes at the better looking plate until a dollop of whatever has attracted me is handed over. Thank goodness then for the decent sized portions at HH. The lightest fluffiest liver parfait was concealed under the caramel crack of a sugar topping.  My only complaint would be that the sourdough bread was a little overcharred and the burnt flavour did permeate through the dish. A was also clearly taken with this dish as the following day a link to the recipe landed in my inbox and will be made very soon. You can find it on Red Magazine's website here. 

A opted for the Ham hock and foie gras terrine which was very prettily presented and tasted good but wasn't exceptional. The piccalilli was very zingy and rather too overpowering if you had it with the terrine (as is clearly intended). Nice but no rosette.

On the wine front, the list is reasonably extensive and varied if slightly on the high side (its definitely London prices). At £71 a bottle a Frank Phelan second wine from Saint Estephe estate Phelan Segur was a good claret, still young and purple on the eye but reasonably balanced in acidity and tannin for a non-optimal vintage. That said, it was far from cheap and I  found out later that it retails at around £20 making it well over a 200% increase. El Pajaro Rojo at £34 for a £10- £12 retail wine is slightly better value (and not vastly different to the £32 it is sold for at Tom's Kitchen) and a Chateauneuf du Pape, Domaine de Beaurenard, Rhone Valley 2007 is £37 at Sipp but £82 on the wine list (121% increase) so maybe I just got unlucky on the mark up. 

With bellies already rotund from scotch eggs and starters we moved towards main courses. I plumped for the veal sirloin on the bone with sauce 'reform' and soused cabbage and onion. I confess to not having been entirely sure that "Reform" sauce was but it had a quite sweet but piquant taste and viscous texture with a citrus lilt. Subsequent Googling confirmed that the recipe takes its name from the Reform Club in London where Victorian celebrity chef of the day, Alexis Soyer, created the recipe to accompany lamb cutlets as one of the club's signature dishes.  We all agreed that were we in a Masterchef-style palate test there was a significant chance that we would have mistaken the veal chop for gammon. It had the same sinuous texture and was smoky from its chargrill but still utterly delicious. Topped with strips of boiled egg white and sausage as well as a salty crumb it provided interesting textures to an otherwise standard chop. It was beautifully cooked and I came within a hair's breadth of picking up the bone and chewing but the surroundings ensured that I had some sense of decorum left (had I been in Soho I would doubtless have been a chewin').  

A ordered the Hereford rib eye with bone marrow sauce, cooked medium rare so the fat had melted beautifully into the pink flesh. The sauce was as rich as rich can be with blobs of bone marrow adding an extra gloss. Really good.

The french fries served as a side order were just that; fries. I had been looking forward to a portion of triple cooked chips a la Heston but was reliably informed by the waitress that they can't be served at the height of summer because the potatoes are too sweet for it to work (its a chemical thing apparently. Heston is good at the molecular stuff so we will just have to trust him on that one). Nonetheless I did feel a bit cheated out of my big fat chips despite the scientific reasoning. Annoyingly however, in referring back to their website to write this up I see they are back on the menu only a few days later. Hey ho, just means I have to go back I s'pose.

The oxtail and kidney pudding did look fabulous with the filling all glossy and soft encased in a lardy rich pastry. H adored it. I temporarily forgot that I really hate kidney which unfortunately I still do even after tasting it. If offal is your kind of thing though then the pudding comes highly recommended. 

Sides of green beans with shallot and coriander carrots were both tasty and naughtily buttery but you don't exactly come here expecting a waistline friendly meal.

Sitting in the Tudor surroundings and shovelling down the meaty dishes gives you a little bit of a feeling of what it must have been like to be Henry the VIIIth (less the murdered wives of course).

Cherry bakewell with yoghurt ice cream was light and crumbly with a lovely frangipane filling (the cherries were a particular triumph and not a million miles away from the gorgeous Luxardo Italian maraschinos) 

Chocolate wine slush with millionaire's shortbread was perhaps the most atypical dessert on the list. Two waitresses made clear that the two are best eaten together which proved to be true; the slush was not particularly inspiring or remarkable 

Lemon scented quaking pudding was not what I was expecting at all. The general consensus of people that I asked seemed to think it was a lemony flavoured pannacotta style dish which was accurate except for the fairly significant fact that its a hot dessert. Very hot. I liked it (especially playing with it making it wobble) but A & H were not sold at all. The sorbet was quite clearly frozen (a prerequisite for sorbet one would imagine) and had a very very tart flavour. I held my tongue until H had tried it but we both agreed the pervading flavour was one of cleaning product such as Vim or Flash. That makes it sound horrid which isn't my intention but it probably wasn't the best lemon sorbet I have ever tasted. There is an argument with various of these "forgotten recipes" that they may have died out for a reason. I'm sure noone in Tudor times turned round and announced a fatwa on warm blancmanges (if fatwas indeed existed) so perhaps, just maybe, people realised it wasn't so great and chose not to make it any more. 

Triple Rum Old Fashioned

We retired to the bar for a small post prandial, in my case making a bee line for the Triple Rum Old Fashioned. Consisting of three rums (spiced, white and Skipper demerera rums) it also promised theatrics in the form of "raisin scented rum smoke". Theatrical it was indeed served in a brandy glass with the raisin syrup dry ice smoke being poured at the table and inhaled (small tip, don't inhale too quickly it makes you look like a reverse dragon).  Much sweeter than a standard Old Fashioned, it was nonetheless very smooth indeed. At this point, however, the 'small post prandial' plan fell into disarray. 

Rum Punch

We had keen plans to return to London and find a good cocktail bar in which to languish until the early hours but at the risk of sounding lazy (ok, so we were lazy) we knew that once we had sat through the 45 minute train back we would have lost the edge and would probably slope home to the first episode of X Factor and a snooze. A decision was therefore taken to stay in the bar area and gradually work our way through the cocktail menu. 

The stand outs from the list were the Rum Punch which had a beautiful caramel buttery flavour to it and the grapefruit tea.

Chocolate Espresso Martini

The Chocolate Espresso Martini was good but perhaps little different from those served elsewhere. Combining sweet with the bitter edge of the freshly brewed coffee it fulfilled its purpose of giving me a second wind to carry on with the cocktail quest.

Nearing the end of the cocktail list (but in that obstinate slightly irrational mindset that it makes no sense to quit now when we are so close) we ordered the final four on the list; a Viola, a Manhattan, a Martini and a Pineapple champagne thing. 

The Martini (named '1891' after the year that the recipe was apparently written down) was a stonker. Made with crazily potent Plymouth Navy Gin - at 53% proof- it was enough to blow your socks off. The Grand Marnier and orange bitters flavour was so subtle as to be absent but that may well be because my taste buds had, by this point, been burnt away. 

1891 Dry Martini

The Viola was the one that noone had felt very inspired by but it turned out to be one the triumphs. A blend of cachaca, grenadine, lemon, egg yolk, lime, orange juice, and mint; it doesn't sound like a match made in heaven but it fell the perfect side of too sweet or too sour with a silky texture.

Viola

At this point the kitchen had reopened so it seemed churlish not to order a couple more scotch eggs and some devils on horseback for the road. 

Somewhere half way through the cocktail marathon Anna Friel and Rhys Ifans turned up providing Bray's celebrity spot of the day. Even the staff seemed quite excited at that one. 

At 7pm we finally threw the towel in and got a cab back to Windsor station. Boring but practical tip -  if you are coming from Windsor get the restaurant to book a cab to pick you up in advance, Surprisingly its cheaper than the rank outside the station and much better cars and drivers. One boozy train back to London, an accidental cheese purchase on the way home then snoring in front of Xfactor by 9pm. Excellent. 

Let's end on a gratuitous oozing yolk scotch egg photo shall we? Tummy rumbling?

Will I go back? I very much hope so.
8/10

The Hind's Head
High St, Bray, West Berkshire SL6 2AB
01628 626151

Hawksmoor Wine Club: Yquem & Apple Pie

I can't remember how old I was when I first heard of Chateau Yquem. Along with a Chanel handbag it was one of those things I somehow inherently knew I wanted. I do have vivid memories of hunting for it in supermarkets on French beach holidays as a teenager and only once finding it  (in hindsight 680 francs was probably a bargain for a full sized bottle but seemed a crazy fortune at the time!)

Yquem is one of the few white wine chateaux to have reached a level of name recognition and mythical status to rival its Bordeaux neighbours such as Lafite, Pétrus or Margaux.   Clichéd phrases involving "nectar" and "liquid gold" are regularly bandied about in the tumultitude of articles on the subject.  

I'm not going to bore you with the basics of Yquem (botrytis, semillon, sauvignon etc etc) and leave it to someone much more qualified. For more of the story behind both Yquem the wine and the chateau and also some fabulous photography I can't recommend Richard Olsen's book Yquem enough, he knows much more about it than I can ever hope to.  So back to actually drinking the stuff and the evening I popped my Yquem cherry.... 

Hawksmoor have founded a wine club with the intention of offering amazing and often otherwise inaccessible-to-mere-mortals wines by the glass accompanied by a suitable dish.

So last week I was pretty excited to head on over to Seven Dials for an apple pie and a glass of Yquem for £22. Now there may be some of you out there who think that £22 still sounds like a totally nuts price to pay for what is essentially a cake and a glass of wine. Contrary to popular opinion amongst those nearest and dearest to me, I'm not living in cloud cuckoo land. It is a lot to pay unless you're really into wine. Bear in mind that only a few days later I was in another London restaurant who were offering the same Yquem, same year, same everything for £48 a glass. Without the pie. Imagine that.

The wine in question was a 1998 Yquem served in half bottles of which they had bought in a few (reputedly from Roberson but not 100% sure). Anyway so onto the wine itself. Golden in the glass leaving a pattern of rivulets swirling around the glass from the sweetness. I could sit and smell it for ages were I not such an impatient creature. Pure sweet honeyed olfactory blast. 

Enough acidity to prevent the wine cloying in the mouth and to stand up to the relative sharpness of the apples in the tarte. The comparative youth has meant that the more detailed fruity notes still remain. The botrytis in this bottle has permitted a super sweet concentration but  without erring too much towards the slightly bitter, petrol note that can creep in. In short, a nicely balanced wine.  

The lovely, lovely Hawksmoor chaps even gave me a second taste from a different bottle (just checking consistency within the vintage, totally necessary y'know how it is.....)  If this event was anything to go by, I can't wait to see what other Hawksmoor wine events are coming up.

So was it everything that I hoped and dreamed of, this elusive Elysian liquid? Yes.  I'm left with an expensive problem however; I want more.

Roberson are currently selling the 1998 for less than £100 for a half bottle, it'll keep for decades. Go on, you know you want to

Oh yes and the pie was very nice too.....

Hawksmoor Seven Dials

11 Langley St, London, Greater London WC2H 9JG