som saa, london fields - review

There’s something undeniably exciting about a restaurant residency. The impermanence of it all, knowing it will no longer be there in a couple of months, feeling as though you’re taking part in some sort of exclusive underground dining movement that is not quite radical but certainly not mainstream. 

I say that. Som Saa has received a review from Fay Maschler in the Evening Standard, which is about as mainstream as it gets. But that doesn’t detract from the thrown together, off-the-cuff charm of it all.

I’d never heard of Climpson’s Arch before hearing about Som Saa. Probably because it’s a working coffee roastery right out in the sticks of east London, next to London Fields train station (not tube or even overground, an actual National Rail train station - far).

What’s particularly exciting though, is that it’s fully licensed, has a grill and wood-fired oven out in the partly covered yard space, a kitchen built into a shipping container, tables inside under the railway arch adorned with fairy lights, and occasionally moonlights as a venue for young chefs to showcase their talents.

When chefs and restaurateurs want to create a dining experience, but aren’t quite at the stage of settling at a permanent site, they’ll take up residency for a limited amount of time in a place that’s ready to roll as soon as they arrive. In this case, we have Andy Oliver, previously at Nahm (voted no.1 restaurant in Asia) and Bo.Lan in Bangkok, and Tom George, a manager from Goodman in Mayfair. Their intention is to bring the cooking of northern and north-eastern Thailand (the area known as Isaan), to us lucky Londoners. And lucky we certainly are.

Get the tube to Bethnal Green and walk north for around 20 minutes, or get a train from Liverpool Street three stops until you arrive at London Fields. Allow Google maps to instruct you from here along quiet roads and under railway bridges, as thoughts flit between I can’t wait to eat this food and am I going to get mugged if I keep parading my phone.

You’ll then either hear or smell Som Saa before you see it. Follow the murmur of music and a convivial atmosphere, or the aromas of shrimp paste and lime searing against hot metal, and you’ll soon find yourself outside a venue that by day, you wouldn’t bat an eyelid at.

The menu is brief but confident, with a handful of bar snacks, a couple of salads, four small plates, three large and one choice for dessert. Flavours are big and bold and a glorious ode to all things we love about Thai food - the salt, sour, sweetness and heat. Astringent and aromatic nectar, full of the flavours of lemongrass, garlic, coriander, shrimp paste, ginger and chillies, pool at the sides of the plates. Liquor so good that leaving a drop should come with a police caution.

The heat from the green papaya salad is penetrative rather than eye-watering, a gradual climb across the tongue to the back of the throat that will release as a little cough or hiccup. It’s wonderful, get it (£8.50). 

The whole deep fried seabass, crisp and curved like the crescent of the moon, is covered in Isaan herbs and comes with roasted rice, the soft flesh a joy to peel away from the big bones of the spine (£14).

The fish also appears cured with citrus under ‘bar snacks’, with lemongrass, kaffir lime and mint, ready for wrapping in the glossy betel leaves they’re delivered on, zippy little parcels that go down barely touching the sides (£5). Grilled pork neck with chilli, lime and garlic was as dreamy as it reads (£8), and the sweet flesh of the salt roasted prawns were a great excuse to get the fingers dirty and suck on some crustacean heads (£8).

There was also a palm sugar ice cream with turmeric grilled banana which had a great warming depth (£4.50). Things that continue to flirt with me from the menu I stowed away in my bag and took home: Isaan hot and sour soup with duck leg; Northern style pork belly curry with pickled garlic and ginger; grilled fermented pork with peanuts, chill and cabbage.

There’s corrugated metal panels, a concrete floor, exposed pipes and ducts, and what seems to be a load of industrial paraphernalia stored towards the back of the space, beyond the seating - it is a coffee factory after all. But there’s also communal dining tables, Arcade Fire on in the background, a cracking wine list, standout service and some seriously good vibes.

Som Saa is so far east from where I live that it might as well be in Germany. But it’s also so good that I’m pretty certain I’ll be back. It runs until at least early 2015, with no set end date of yet. Just turn up as there’s no reservations - open Thursday to Sunday from 6pm with brunch at the weekends. See you there.

(P.S. Please excuse the shoddy photography. I turned up without my proper camera as I had little intention to write this up due to the time constraints of a hectic work schedule. But then it was really good, so I had to. The snaps are from my crappy camera phone.)

Liked lots: Huge flavours, great vibes, fantastic service
Liked less: Please be closer to where I live
Good for: Impressing your mates with your knowledge of London’s alternative dining scene; eating what is arguably some of the best Thai food in town 

4/5

Afiyet olsun.

CUTS - a forza win & the ginger pig pop-up - review

Red meat is not something I indulge in too frequently at home. Partly because if I did, it would be quite an expensive habit (when I do entertain it I’ll splurge on high welfare free range), and partly because handsome hunks of loins and rumps take a decent amount of time to cook and are therefore, in my mind, best reserved for the slower pace of life weekends are so good at. 

So when the opportunity arises to have not one but three glorious and often underused cuts of marvellous muscle sourced from none other than The Ginger Pig cooked for me to succulent perfection by tong-tastic bearded professionals in a single evening, I’m jumping at the chance like a frog on fire. Did I mention they’re cooked outside over coals? Exactly.

For a hotly anticipated and select 30 days over the summer of 2013 that was, supper-club stalwarts Forza Win teamed up with beloved butchers The Ginger Pig in a gathering of flesh and fire, pork and panzanella, rump and rib-eye, cocktails and coals and a lot of people chowing down on some seriously good dinner.

Each Thursday to Sunday between 25th July and 22nd September saw piles of salivating punters following their nose to locate the disused East End pickle factory hosting the carnivorous carousal, guided by wafts of quality meat browning on hot grills. Around a vast communal dining table constructed from salvaged wood, 70 clientele were seated each night to enjoy four courses of Tuscan inspired dishes cooked with expertise, executed simply and presented on beautiful big sharing platters passed round and picked off. 

Commandeering the custom-built sustainable English firewood and charcoal burning behemoth was chef Nick Fulton (previously of The Orchard in Brockley), along with a little help from his friends.

Large mixing bowls of panzanella accompanied the meats, full of multicoloured ripe tomatoes, lightly pickled red onions and oily crunchy croutons. The meat marathon began with juicy hunks of 80-day Longhorn beef rump (from the top of the rear leg) served with polenta croutons hardening from the post-Parmesan melt, a deeply flavoured wild mushroom confit, and plates slashed with drizzles of garlic cream.

Round two presented itself as slices of lamb neck fillet (textured and muscular from the top of the backbone) tenderised to the touch of a plump baby’s thigh thanks to an overnight marinade in rosemary and lemon, and served with a vibrant sweet pea and marjoram purée, whole firm peas and fresh pea shoots. A wonderful pea-off to accompany the luscious lamb.

Tender pork rib-eye (boned-out shoulder from the front leg) rounded off these class cuts, a blackened exterior encasing succulent flavoursome flesh within and my favourite of the three meats; served with firm Italian beans slow-cooked with fatty lardons and a side of grilled bitter treviso lettuce. 

Delicate silken panna cotta flavoured with lavender and served with blackberry compote, espresso and homemade biscotti bark concluded the evening’s delightful proceedings.

CUTS was a novel dining affair in an unusual setting and with a communal and sociable format that many won’t have experienced before, not to mention the food was utterly delightful. It’s had it’s run this summer but due the runaway success, I would put good money on seeing this collaboration resurface at some point in the future. And if it does, you surely must go.

My rating: 4/5

Afiyet olsun.

This review can also be found on the Your Local Guardian website.

yummy choo mauritian pop-up - review

aubergine bringele / shrimp croquettes / gateaux piment

The only Mauritian food I have the pleasure of devouring is cooked by my Mum – and hats off to it, it’s pretty good. No wait – it’s excellent (she might be reading this). All jokes aside, it is excellent. It’s a significant enough draw for me to have entertained fleeting thoughts throughout and post University of ‘maybe I could move back home?’. 

Such thoughts don’t pervade my mind anymore – I’m a bit past living with the parents now. But for Mum’s cooking, it’s almost feasible. I can genuinely smell the spices of her beef with cloves, achard, and butter bean curry as I type. Is there a word for that? According to Google yes. Phantosmia - the perception of a smell in the absence of any physical odours. Alas, there is no actual Mauritian curry where I’m sitting.

It’s not always feasible for me to drive the hour it takes to get to my parents unannounced and exclaim that I’m hungry for some prawn rougaille. Because if it was, my mum should be charging for the service. 

So when an opportunity arises to eat some home cooked Mauritian fare, I’m on the case immediately. And such an occasion presented itself in the form of a Mauritian pop-up supper club hosted by Selina Periampillai from Yummy Choo Eats. Here’s a little about the lovely lady herself:

'Selina Periampillai is a self-taught cook who hosts the popular 'Yummy Choo' supper club at her home in Croydon, specialising in Mauritian home cooked cuisine, and her website www.yummychooeats.com has become a ‘go to’ page for Mauritian inspired recipes and food reviews.  Specialising in cooking up colourful, moreish dishes with a tropical flair and unique flavours, Selina combines her passion and creative use of ingredients to transport guests to the sunshine island and leaves them wanting more!'

I’ll have some of that.

Rather than Selina’s home, this particular event was hosted at the Blue Mountain Cafe as part of the Pop Goes Sydenham programme seeing the town come alive with food events featuring local chefs, suppliers and produce. 

At a mere 25 minute drive from my work in Clapham and with ample parking, it was an ideal location for a week night meal. The venue was brightly coloured with room for around 20 guests at communal tables to accommodate the sharing platters and bowls. At front of house we had Belinda Lester doing a sterling job of greeting everyone warmly and swiftly planting welcomed lychee rum cocktails into our hands to help ease us into the format of the evening. 

Once all the guests arrived, Selina stepped out from the kitchen in chef whites and with a beaming smile to welcome all and provided a quick low-down of what to expect for the different courses.

The large platters delivered consisted of an array of appetising bite-sized typical Mauritian starters (or gajaks). These included aubergine bringele (aubergine slices coated in a light chickpea batter); well spiced and soft shrimp croquettes made from dried shrimp and potato; and crunchy gateaux piment – a typical street food made from split peas and chillis. 

To accompany these were some winning chutneys – coconut tamarind and mint along with a vibrant cotomili satini (coriander chutney). Both lent aromatic, light and refreshing qualities to the food – they were delightful.

coconut, tamarind and mint chutney / coriander chutney

There are few things that make the heart of a hungry diner sing more than being regaled with large bowl after large bowl of quality food leaving the kitchen and landing at your table, and so we were introduced to the mains. 

My first encounter with these dishes was in the form of wafting cinnamon aromas penetrating my olfactory bulb before I even caught sight of them. And what an introduction. The sauce for the cari poulet (chicken curry) was a beautiful brown reminding me of the curries my my mum makes housing tender morsels of meat, and the coconut and spinach dhal was thick and creamy from the coconut milk. 

The fish vindaye was not something I had sampled before and Selina revealed it’s often the most popular dish at her supper clubs - it’s easy to see why. Pickled mustard fish with chilli and onion – appetisingly chewy chunks of fish coated in a dry spiced sauce. Dozens upon dozens of freshly made and warm pooris along with very fragrant rice were passed around the tables to help mop up all the goodness remaining on plates. 

The prawns in the rougaille were soft and appealing, a texture that seems to pervade most cooked prawns I’ve experienced. However, I felt the rougaille sauce itself was a little too liquid – I have previously known it to be thicker and something that coats the meat within but this was more akin to a soup and therefore I felt the flavour was a little diluted. No doubt this is down to the permeations of recipes over time and from family to family; they will always have their own unique nuances and never be identical. And they shouldn’t be. 

fish vindaye - pickled mustard fish with chillies and onion

cari poulet - a family recipe chicken curry

coconut and spinach dhal

prawn rougaille

freshly made pooris

For the brave (Matt included), there were little bowls of piment confit dotted on all the tables -  hot bullet chillies with garlic and oil. When I say hot, I in no way mean that lightly. I had half a tiny one and stopped my brain melting by swiftly shoving coconut chutney in my mouth. Matt managed to consume a total of three with other big mouthfuls of food before getting hiccups and admitting defeat. 

It reminded me of the time my mum made achard (a Mauritian pickled vegetable salad) as part of a Christmas dinner. It contained both green beans and big fat hot chillies. She would always remove the chillies from the portion she dished out to me and I would put my full trust in her ability to differentiate them from the beans and successfully fish them all out. But this time, she missed one. I merely bit down (I didn’t even chew), immediately spat it out and what was to follow was probably the most violent reaction to a chilli I’ve ever had. 

My breathing was cut short and instinctive reaction put a tissue to my mouth, which I then used to dab my face now wet with streaming eyes. This then caused the whole side of my face to burn bright red of which a slathering of Vaseline was the only relief. Oh, and I temporarily lost my hearing. I hear something like 1 out of every 100 chillies are off the scale hotter than the rest of their species and you can consider yourself the subject of any Schadenfreude taking place at that dinner table if one ends up in your mouth. A painful Christmas evening for my face that was indeed.

piment confit - bullets of fire

Our trou normand consisted of little shots of pineapple and chilli sorbet inspired by the combination sold on the beaches of Mauritius to help cool off sweltering bodies. It did a perfect job in cleansing the palate and cooled off our sweltering mouths from those piment confit bullets of fire. 

For dessert, individual tropical plates of coconut sago drenched in a sticky but not too sweet spiced syrup sitting alongside a sweet mango and pomegranate salad. Sago is a starch extracted from the spongy centre of palm stems and seemed to behave quite like rice grains in a soft but packaged rice pudding  – yet another new and successful ingredient to check off my list of conquered consumables.

pineapple and chilli sorbet

coconut sago with spiced syrup / mango and pomegranate

The atmosphere was lively with sega music playing in the background and conversation flowing across parties and tables as we got to know our neighbours. For many, it was their first experience sampling the delights of Mauritian cuisine. 

I like to think of it as the Vietnamese of the South East Asian world; in a similar vein Mauritian food is lighter and more aromatic than the comparable but quite different food from the Asian sub-continent. 

After grafting hard in the kitchen with her mother present for assistance, Selina closed the evening by thanking everyone for coming and making her way round the tables to speak to each individually. It was a truly enjoyable few hours and I only wish I had brought some Tupper wear (if I could get away with it).

Selina frequently hosts supper clubs and pop-ups and there are probably few better ways to introduce yourself to this cuisine than by letting her cook it for you. To stay up to date with her upcoming events, follow her on Twitter (@yummychooeats) or keep an eye on her website yummychooeats.com.

Selina, a sister from another mister, you’re doing us Mauritians proud.

My rating: 4/5

Afiyet olsun.

Shelina Permalloo's Mauritian Pop-up - Review

Following on from my previous post, another cuisine rarely suggested when considering a night out on the town to sample the delights on offer, is Mauritian. My mum is from the motherland itself, and despite this I don't believe I've ever eaten in a Mauritian restaurant. Not because I haven't wanted to, of course. I just don't think I've ever come across one.

Course 4: spiced soft shell crab with mango and fennel
salad and sweet and sour tamarind

Actually, that's a lie of sorts. Since moving to South West London around a year and a half ago, I was almost beside myself with excitement when one day I found myself wandering through the stalls of Merton Abbey Mills (next to Colliers Wood tube station), only to hear a conversation in that oh-so familiar language and accompanying accent; a sound I only ever associate with being around family from my mother's side - Mauritian creole. With ears pricked, I was directed straight towards the source of this warming and unmistakable exchange of words and I soon found myself standing in front of a stall - a Mauritian food stall. Laden with home made Mauritian food. Including butter bean curry with roti, gateau banane (deep fried banana fritters), little jars of tiny bullet chillis, seriously hot Chinese chilli oil, and all sorts of other excellent edibles. Almost squealing with excitement, I systematically began to purchase my way through the produce on display whilst getting to know the lady holding the fort. If you're ever in those parts on the weekend, be sure to say 'hi' and grab a curry laden roti or four.

Shelina Permalloo -
Masterchef 2012 winner

One person who I believe has done great things for the cuisine is Shelina Permalloo, the very lovely winner of Masterchef 2012, a British-Mauritian and a self-proclaimed mango addict (who isn't?). I recall watching the series and feeling a sense of pride when she would throw back to her Mauritian roots during invention tests or when they had to come up with three course meals for the judges to sample. In most of the episodes she managed to treat the audience to vibrant and colourful plates of food from her heritage and every time she did, I was left writhing in stomach-growling pain from knowing just how good they would taste, but not being able to get my chops around the spectacle on the screen. Torture in its modern form.

So when I recently noticed a tweet from @shelinacooks herself speaking of a Mauritian pop-up restaurant she would be hosting (and more importantly cooking at) in London, I almost smashed into my laptop in a fervent frenzy to purchase tickets. This was perfect - it was my turn to arrange dinner with my two good friends Mel and Gavin, and what a better introduction to a cuisine they probably hadn't sampled before and that was so close to my heart. And let me just check those details again - five courses for under £30? I didn't even bother confirming the availability of my friends before buying the tickets - as if anyone could turn that down.

'So Mauritian food - it's just Indian cooked by French people, right?', at least an attempt from Gavin at deciphering this underestimated and lesser-known cuisine. But incorrect, all the same. Sort of. As I've mentioned in my Mauritian butter bean curry post, Mauritian cuisine is a wonderful mash-up of the tastes from a range of far flung lands. The tiny island manages to churn out people from all different ancestral heritages due to the numerous settlers that have made the island their home over the ages. In Mauritian food you will find influences from France, Africa, China, Portugal and India with many of the dishes completely unique to the island.

The meal was held at The Thatched House - a pub in Hammersmith and a part of London I don't venture to all that frequently. The front of the pub and bar area were soon heaving with clientèle,  the majority present for the culinary delights soon to be bestowed upon them alongside what were most likely a few regulars no doubt confused by the sudden influx of people anticipating a slap up and exotic dinner. On entering, I immediately spotted Shelina and what I believe to be the two other finalists from Masterchef 2012, feverishly toiling away in the open-fronted kitchen. Once it seemed full headcount had arrived and the kitchen was ready to begin service, we were soon ushered towards the back of the venue where tables were laid for 60-odd guests ready to receive their dinner.

Course 1: Chilli Cakes with Mauritian Coleslaw & Mango Mayo

The first course consisted of chilli cakes with Mauritian coleslaw and mango mayonnaise. These were harder than expected, in fact proving quite difficult to pierce with a fork in order to cut into bite-sized chunks. While the texture wasn't quite there, the flavour was good but all three of our palettes would liked to have been on the receiving end of a bigger hit of chilli in the cakes themselves. With our table being from Chinese, Tamil and Mauritian backgrounds, none of us are afraid of heat but I think the meals may have been tailored to a more Western palette, which I supposed is understandable.

Round two delivered to us a plate of fragrant king prawns with Creole sauce (rougaille) and pickled papaya. Vowzers. In all it's simplicity, this was one of my favourite dishes of the evening. A bed of a wonderfully flavoursome rougaille, taking me right back to the smells from my mum's kitchen, topped with some big fatty bombom prawns. Rougaille is a typical Mauritian sauce using plum tomatoes, garlic, thyme, and chilli and it was quite excellent. Add to that pickled papaya and you have a winning dish in my eyes - pickled anything always slides down my gullet with little resistance. Mel and I had no problems dipping the prawn heads into the sauce and sucking out the brains with gusto, even stealing some of Gavin's - his fire for prawn entrails burning less brightly.

Course 2: Fragrant King Prawns with
Creole sauce and Pickled Papaya

Third up was a course I highly anticipated after first reading the menu when booking the tickets - open roti with mutton curry, pickled red onions and a coriander and coconut chutney. I challenge anyone to tell me that doesn't read fabulously. And in reality, it met expectations. The roti was perfect - not too thin and happy to encase chunks of tender mutton devoured with fingers - no use for cutlery with this dish. Flavours were defiant and this pleased me. There was still room for more heat for my own personal palette, but this lacking did not detriment the overall quality. The only real faltering is that I could have done with more of it for the amount of roti there was. Or in other words, being greedy.

Course 3: Open Roti with Mutton Curry, Pickled Red Onions
and Coriander & Coconut Chutney

Course four certainly looked the part - a whole soft shell crab encased in a spiced batter, a mango and fennel salad and sweet and sour tamarind. However it was a little disappointing when it came to the eating. While the latter two mentioned were tasty enough, I felt the crab itself was lacking something, something to really wallop the chops. Was it acidity? Spice? Chilli? Seasoning? Maybe all of the above. Unfortunately, I found it leaning towards bland when compared to the other dishes and what I was expecting.

Mistakes can be permitted and that aside, the five courses were topped off with molasses biscuits, mango, lime, toasted marshmallow and a rum caramel. Yes please. Densely chewy sweet biscuits sliced through by the citrus from the lime and all beautifully complimented by the other flavours on the plate. My companions found this course to be too sweet for them which was interesting as I didn't, and I am severely lacking in a sweet tooth. I soon relinquished a position of defence once I realised the situation meant more dessert for me.

Course 5: molasses biscuits with mango, lime,
toasted marshmallow and rum caramel

The five solid courses were topped off with a sixth liquid - a shot of spiced (and strong) Mauritian rum. While I'm almost certain it was supposed to be sipped and savoured, Gavin decided to hark back to our university days and launch it down the gullet in one swift movement - and each respectfully to their own.

All in, the food was a delight. A couple of the courses could have been improved (namely the chilli cakes and soft shell crab), but an equal proportion of the dishes were quite magnificent (the praws with rougaille and the mutton curry). Shelina made sure to visit each table after service was over with a beaming smile and tentatively asking 'was it ok?' - I think she did great. As someone who is half Mauritian, I'm proud of Shelina's achievements in helping raise the awareness of this wonderful and diverse cuisine and I hope she continues to do so. I'll be waiting in line to taste anything else she plans to cook and share for the future. Did I mention she also lives down the road from me in Tooting? I may knock on her door for a cup of rougaille some time.

It's worth visiting her website as she has many recipes on it (including some from this evening) and I believe most of them to be Mauritian. It's not a difficult cuisine to try out and I'd suggest everyone to give it a go: shelinapermalloo.com

To sign off, a quote stolen from Shelina's website:

"You gather the idea that Mauritius was made first and then heaven, and that heaven was copied after Mauritius" - Mark Twain, 1896.

I should probably get myself over there at some point.

*cough*honeymoon?*cough

Alfiyet olsun.

Note: as the venue was quite dark I have stolen some of the photography from Shelina's Facebook page. Apologies for the two grainy ones that are still my own.