Showing posts with label tiramisu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tiramisu. Show all posts

Saturday 29 November 2014

frescobaldi, mayfair - review

Swing a right down an alleyway opposite Hamley’s on Regent Street, and you’ll find yourself on a quiet and short strip of road called New Burlington Place. The only people that seem to know about it are the cabbies that turn into it from adjoining Saville Row for a three-point-turn, and to drop off the well-suited elite; there’s little else there. 

Except, that is, for new Italian fine dining restaurant and wine bar, Frescobaldi. Despite an almost complete lack of passing footfall, little launch fanfare, and having only being open for two weeks, it was almost full late Saturday lunch time. 

People knew it was on this invisible road, and were coming for it specifically.


If the name rings a bell, you may have seen their restaurant on the lower ground floor of Harrods, their branded Laudemio olive oil sold at Fortnum & Mason, or come across their outposts in Florence and at Rome’s Fiumicino airport.

Their major claim to fame though, and the focus around which this new restaurant is based, is that the Frescobaldi family produce wine, and have done for a very long time indeed (more information on that in this recent Independent article). 

It’s an involvement that dates back centuries. During the renaissance, we’re told they traded bottles with Michelangelo for works of art, and they were major financiers to the kings of England, with receipts signed personally by that great wine-quaffer, Henry VIII. 

Most of their nine estates can be found in the hills around Florence and Siena, and a range of wines from the likes of Mormoreto (a single-vineyard cru of Castello di Nipozzano) to the flagship Frescobaldi cuvée (Brunello di Montalcino Castelgiocondo Riserva) take pride of place on the new restaurant’s menu.

To launch this first independent site in the UK, the Frescobaldis have partnered with Good Food Society, a new hospitality venture promoted by fellow Turk, Levent Büyükuğur (also founder of Istanbul Doors, an international restaurant group with over 40 venues).



They’ve done very well with the interiors. A great wall of glass for the frontage, striking frescos of Italian renaissance characters painted onto the tiled walls, a great central column with shelves housing Tuscan paraphernalia and bottles of wine poured by the glass - it’s a handsome space.

At Frescobaldi, you’ll find the largest menu you’ve ever seen, in size rather than content - open, it’s almost as wide as the wingspan of an albatross. The extra maneuverability the broad and comfortable chairs provide are as good for big bottoms as they are for accommodating the perusal of the massive things; best to read them turned sideways for the sake of a smashed wine glass.

In it, a confident and concise menu with less than a handful of entries under each section: antipasti, carpacci, tartare, primi piatti (pasta), to share (salads, cheese and charcuterie), secondi di pesce (fish mains), seconde di cane (meat mains), contorni (sides).


Bread was great and made on site, the soft and salty focaccia still warm from the oven, crisp Sardinian flatbread entirely void of moisture, and the basket comes with a bottle of that Laudemio olive oil to glug at your pleasure. 

There were rippled sheets of seabass carpaccio with pink peppers, soy sauce and fresh curly celery strips, that could have done with a touch of astringency (£16). The lactating Puglian burrata, with rocket pesto and ripe tomatoes, was just about the creamiest I’ve encountered (£12.50). 

I thought the marinated black Angus beef with lentils and courgettes would come as a salad with cooked slices of steak, and I expected it to be dull. It was actually like a plate of joyous lemony bresaola, with a little gathering of fantastically dressed firm green lentils and tiny cubes of courgette (£15).

The wide ribbons of pappardelle with the veal cheek ragu were gorgeous - great bite and deep yellow from yolk. The pappy but pleasing sauce, quite sweet from the meat, needed the contrasting texture it got from a flourish of small crisp rosemary croutons scattered before serving - very good (£15).

There were small and soft dimpled gnocchi with porcini mushrooms and an earthy umami sauce, although I do like my dumplings sporting the marks of a longer fry (£15). The ossobucco was a loaded plate of flaking veal, flanked by a barrier of unctuous white polenta, and with a great slug of marrow that slipped out of the bone after just a little persuasion (£23).

Tiramisu came in an unusual format, a mound of yellow sponge, coloured from extra yolk I presume, with a moat of coffee sauce and bitter toasted beans. It was cleared in the same amount of time it took me to register it had arrived (£9).


They've been smart in making more of their wines accessible to diners, by offering small and reasonably priced pre-grouped wine flights. You get a taste of three glasses (125ml each), and there are different groups of three to choose from, ranging from £16 - £68. I had the Red Flight “Sangiovese” at £21.


Two female maître d's were wearing the same sophisticated monochrome dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a cocktail bar, and service was charming and very attentive, if a little too enthusiastic at the beginning of our early lunch reservation, when we were the only occupied table.
  
Fellow diners ranged from groups of American visitors, to distinguished and impeccably dressed Italian matriarchs enjoying a girly lunch, to young couples, to a Turkish family, which may have been a Mr Büyükuğur influence.

Like I said, I don’t know how these people knew it was there. I did, because my visit was in the capacity of critiquing it for the consumer publication for British Turks & Turkophiles, T-Vine (thanks to Mr Büyükuğur’s involvement).

But know about it, people seem to. And now you do too. 

Liked lots: accessible and reasonably priced wine flights, interiors, there’s also a very becoming bar below deck to enjoy both wines and spirits in

Liked less: Frescobaldi won’t win any prizes for ‘bargain restaurant of the week’, but considering the location and setting, it’s not trying to. That in mind, with a bit of considered ordering, you can keep a reign on the bill and enjoy a very good meal

Good for: respite from the hectic shopping streets of the West End, impressing a date

4/5

Find the menu on Zomato.


Afiyet olsun


Note: I was invited as a guest to this restaurant.

Ristorante Frescobaldi on Urbanspoon


Square Meal

Saturday 25 October 2014

tiramisu - recipe


‘I would like some coffee with this cheese’ is a sentence no one has ever said. Wine, goes without saying. Port, most certainly. Even beer and cocktails work with an appetising platter. Whilst an alcoholic presence isn’t necessarily a precursor for a beverage to compliment cheese, coffee just does not fit.

Unless of course we are talking about tiramisu (and in a similar vein, coffee flavoured cheesecake). Possibly the lone exception in the culinary world of the two brought together in a spoonful or seven of sweetened creamy glory (incidentally through my research I have discovered 'kaffeost' - a Finnish concoction in which hot coffee is poured over chunks of soft cheese - a more pungent affogato I suppose; I'd be willing to try it).


Translating to ‘pick-me-up’ from Italian and originating from Treviso near Venice, the dessert presents itself as layers of Savoiardi biscuits (also known as ladyfingers - the sponge biscuits used in trifles) soaked in cold espresso and an egg, sugar and mascarpone mixture. Often flavoured with cocoa and made suitably grown up with a splash of Marsala wine, it represents all that is great about Italian cooking; simplicity, the love of good coffee and the inclusion of cheese wherever possible.

Have a look online and you’ll come across many different recipes, a lot of which I’ve tried. They include the presence of cream, vanilla, strawberries and a whole manner of other things. The purist in me relishes the fact an Italian politician has recently asked the EU to grant the Treviso recipe invented in the 70’s protected status and rightly so; whilst I can appreciate new takes on classics, I’m old fashioned at heart and it can be too easy for traditional recipes to become diluted and lost over time

The Italians are fierce in the protection of their national dishes, already succeeding with the Napoletana margherita and marinara, and I respect them all the more for it.


The cheesy mix in the Treviso recipe is comprised of egg yolks, sugar and mascarpone. How much of each I suppose is up to experimentation, but in my version I’ve also added some fluffed up egg whites. It creates a greater volume meaning the cheese goes further to make more portions. Because of this, the dessert is lighter and therefore I suppose, less of a burden on any guilt you may feel consuming it. Or so I tell myself.

In terms of liquor, feel free to replace the Marsala with rum or coffee liqueur. Traipsing through my local supermarkets, Marsala only seems to be available in standard wine bottle sizes. Should you discover the same, and unless you plan on making tiramisu every week for the foreseeable future or quaffing the stuff straight, substituting with something similar you already have is fine. 

But have it made clear the unmistakable flavour from Sicilian Marsala will be absent and which I believe makes the dish. Savoiardi biscuits can be found in all supermarkets - they tend to sit alongside trifle type ingredients rather than in the biscuit aisle. Ask where the sponge fingers are if you can't locate them.

Classic Tiramisu

Makes 4 portions

Around 18 Savoiardi biscuits (ladyfingers)
200ml strong espresso, cold
2 x egg whites
1 x egg yolk
2 tbsp caster sugar
2 tbsp Marsala wine
250g mascarpone cheese
Cocoa powder
A square or two of dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa)

In a large bowl whisk the egg yolk, egg whites and sugar until thick and pale but still runny. An electric hand whisk will achieve this quickly.

Add the cheese and Marsala and beat until fully combined and smooth with no lumps. I find the beater attachment on an electric stand mixer does this well. The mixture will still be quite runny but this will set in the fridge.

Pour the cold coffee into a shallow wide dish. Soak a biscuit in the coffee for a couple of seconds each side so it gets absorbed, but remove before it goes soft and breaks apart. Layer the bottom of four individual serving glasses with one layer of soaked biscuits.

Tip For an extra boozy kick, add a splash of wine to the coffee too before you soak the biscuits

Tip If you need to break the biscuits to fit in the glass, do so before you soak them. 

Tip Glass serving vessels are ideal as it allows you to see the layers but if you don’t have them, something ramekin sized will do just fine - I used glass tumblers.


Over these bottom layers pour 2-3 tablespoons of the cheese and egg mixture - you want to use half of your mix across all portions in this first layer. Top these with another layer of soaked biscuits, and finish with a final layer of the mixture, using it all up.

Using a sieve or tea strainer, dust cocoa powder over the tiramisu portions ensuring all of the white is covered. Finely grate the dark chocolate and sprinkle this on top to finish.

Cover each portion with clingfilm and leave to set in the fridge for at least a few hours before serving. I find they taste better the longer they are left as the flavours mingle, so I would make them the day before you wish to serve them.

An indulgent treat at any time of day, they do very well in the ‘hard to resist’ stakes.

Afiyet olsun. 

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