Thursday, 14 March 2013

hot cross buns

It's a little early to be making these - usually I'd make them over Easter weekend itself. But I won't be around this year, I had a hankering for some warm soft pillowy buns, and so they manifested themselves this week. I walked into the house after work and began making them almost immediately having only decided I would as the key reached the lock. Luckily, the ingredients required are staple baking ones and so I already had stock for everything I needed.

I've attempted these in previous years and I recall even though the flavour was there, the texture just wasn't. This was before I had fully mastered the art of baking (but I'm no pro - I'm certainly still learning). I would knead the dough, but never enough for it to reach the required consistency that would render a light and fluffy end product. So the buns tasted good, but were too dense and leaning more towards cake like than bread like.


Since finally learning how to properly handle enriched dough when making panettone this Christmas (after three years of trial and error), I am now confident of the consistency needed to get an excellent rise in the bread. As anyone tenured baker will tell you in books or on TV shows, there's only so much that can be done with machinery - the rest needs to be done by hand for you to become accustomed to, and handle your way towards, the end dough product.

The recipe below is from
Paul Hollywood's How to Bake, with some minor alterations.

Hot cross buns


Makes 12

500g strong white bread flour, plus extra for dusting

10g salt
75g caster sugar
14g instant yeast
40g unsalted butter, softened
2 medium eggs, beaten
120ml warm milk
120ml cool water
150g sultanas (optional - I didn't use)
80g chopped mixed peel (optional - I didn't use)
Finely grated zest of 2 oranges (optional - I didn't use)
2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tsp allspice

Tip Instead of the mixed peel and orange zest, I used some Aroma Panettone which I have left over from Christmas. This oil adds the aromas and flavours of candied fruit, vanilla, honey and spices without having to add the ingredients themselves which can in fact slow fermentation in yeast dough - according to the website. I used it mainly because I didn't have any candied peel or oranges though. So you'll of course be absolutely fine following the original recipe.

For the crosses

75g plain flour
75ml water

For the glaze
75g apricot jam

Tip I didn't have apricot jam either, so warmed up some honey in a saucepan and used that instead.

Put the flour into a large mixing bowl. Add the salt and sugar to one side and the yeast to the other.  Add the butter, eggs, milk and half of the water and turn the mixture round with your fingers.

Continue to add water a little at a time until you have picked up all the flour from the sides of the bowl. You might not need to add all the water - you want a dough that is soft but not soggy. Use the mixture to clean the inside of the bowl and keep going until it forms a rough dough.


Tip it out onto a lightly floured surface and begin to need. Keep needing for 15-20 minutes. Work through the initial wet stage until the dough is no longer sticky and forms a soft smooth skin.

Tip The dough will be really wet at first and the best way to tackle it is to shape one hand into a claw and repeatedly draw a circle in the dough. Use a dough scraper to bring any wandering bits of dough back to the main mass.  This is an enriched dough and so behaves a lot like the dough in my panettone post, but to a lesser extent as it doesn't have quite as much butter or as many eggs as the panettone. However, take a look at that post to get an idea of what this dough will look like at the different stages of kneading. In summary, you need to be patient and persistent - I was hard at it for about 20 minutes before I achieved the end result. Don't be tempted to short cut by just adding more flour - this is what I used to do and you'll end up with dense bread instead of it being light and fluffy.

You will eventually end up with something like the below.



When the dough feels smooth and silky, put it into a lightly oiled large bowl. Cover with cling film and leave to rise in a very low oven until at least doubled in size - at least one hour but two or even three are ok. If you are proving in a low oven, make sure it's barely switched on, so around 30C or so.


Tip the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Scatter the sultanas, mixed peel and orange zest, cinnamon and all spice on top. Knead in until evenly incorporated. Place back in the bowl, cover and leave to rise for another hour.

Tip The only reason I didn't use any currants or mixed peel is because Matt isn't a big fan of them, and so I generally keep them out of my baking. At this stage, I added a teaspoon or so of the Aroma Panettone instead.

Fold the dough inwards a few times until all the air is knocked out. Divide into 12 pieces and roll into balls. Cup your hands around the balls with your little finger against the work surface, and drag the dough towards you to create a taught surface for each ball of dough. Place them fairly close together on a baking tray lined with non-stick baking paper or silicone paper.



Wrap the tray in cling film (allow give for the buns to rise) and put back in the very low oven for another hour until they have at least doubled in size. They should look something like the below (without the crosses, yet).



Whack the oven up to 220C while you cross the buns. To do so, mix the flour and water to a paste. Use a piping bag with a small nozzle to pipe crosses on the buns in long continuous lines.

Tip If you don't have a piping bag, cut off a very small corner of a sandwich bag and use that - works just as well.

Place in the oven and bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. These buns will colour very quickly because of the butter and egg content, but won't mean that they're actually cooked. If they start to get too dark, cover the tray with foil, turn the temperature down a bit and continue to cook for the full 20 minutes.


As the buns are cooling, warm up your jam with a tiny splash of water in a small saucepan to loosen it up. Brush over the warm buns to glaze. Cool on a wire rack.


Tip The warmed honey worked just as well, although once they had fully cooled the glaze wasn't shiny any more. That seemed to be the only difference.


The best way to eat these are warm out of the oven when freshly baked. However, even the most enthusiastic of couples can't consume a dozen between them in one sitting. If eating these over the next couple of days, just warm them up in a low oven (80C or so) until piping hot and that will bring them back to their former glory.

If you still have some left over after a couple of days, wrap them in cling film and freeze. Reheat in an oven until piping hot when desired. 
Serve with a slathering of butter or your favourite conserve. 

Should you find yourself faced with a wet weekend (a sign from the heavens to get baking in my eyes), give these a go. The flavour from one of these made by your own two hands is on an entirely different level to anything you can buy in the shop. Happy Easter!

Afiyet olsun.

Saturday, 9 March 2013

fresh spring rolls


The sticky pork ribs contained flavours from the Orient - soy, Shaoxing rice wine, Sichuan peppercorns, garlic and ginger and I knew they'd be crying out for something light, fresh and crisp to help compliment the viscid richness of the glaze smothering all that meat. Sticking with the theme, some fresh spring rolls with a punchy dip was decided upon.

I've mentioned the huge Chinese supermarket
Hoo-Hing a few minutes walk from my house before here, and it was from Hoo-Hing that I procured some rice paper sheets for the spring rolls. It's the first time I've used them and they're pretty cool - hard and brittle circular sheets of what initially looks and feels like plastic with some sort of embossed pattern on them. To transform them into something more workable, simply dip into a bowl of luke warm water until they become soft and delicate. They tend to stick to themselves once out of the water so it takes a couple of goes to get the knack and not tear them.


Rice paper rolls are common in Vietnamese cuisine - served soft and can be filled with crisp vegetables and herbs and eaten cold, as opposed to other spring rolls people may be used to which use thin pastry as the casing, are fried and served crispy and hot.


You can really compose the salad of anything you want. For example I haven't included any bean sprouts or water chestnuts, both of which would provide some lovely additional texture. But stick to the dressing / dip and tweak to taste as you wish. And of course, serve with those sticky ribs.

Fresh spring rolls

Makes 12 - 14

For the salad
50g dried vermicelli or fine rice noodles (see Tip below)
1 baby gem lettuce
2 spring onions
1 large carrot, grated
A load of chopped coriander
A load of chopped Thai basil
A load of chopped fresh mint leaves
Juice of two limes
12-14 rice paper sheets

For the dipping sauce
2 tbsp caster sugar
2 tbsp rice vinegar
60ml fish sauce
2 red chillies, deseeded and finely chopped
1 garlic clove, peeled and grated
1 spring onion
A sprinkle of chopped coriander
A sprinkle of chopped mint

To rehydrate the vermicelli noodles, soak them in boiling water for 3-4 minutes until they become soft. Drain and refresh under cold water. Shake off excess water and leave to one side.

Tip You can see the brand of noodles I bought in the picture, also from the Chinese supermarket. You might have difficulty finding this and rice paper in a standard supermarket. It's certainly worth locating your nearest one if you haven't already. And they're actually 95% mung bean - which I thought was cool.

To make the dipping sauce, mix the sugar, rice vinegar, fish sauce, chillies and garlic and mix well until the sugar has dissolved. Add the remaining ingredients. Mix, taste and adjust accordingly.

To make the rolls, roughly chop the noodles in a bowl and mix with the vegetables and herbs. Add the lime juice along with 2 tablespoons of the dipping sauce and mix together. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding more of the sauce if needed.

Dip a rice paper in a bowl of luke warm water until soft and pliable. Splash a board with a little water before placing a rice paper on it (this will stop it sticking). Put a spoonful of micture into the centre of the paper and fold the bottom up and the sides in, then roll up tightly into a spring roll shape. Repeat with the remaining mixture and rice papers.

Tip If your water is too hot, the rice paper will become soft too quickly for you to be able to handle properly and you'll inevitably end up tearing them. So stick to luke warm water.

Tip You can make the rolls ahead and keep them in the fridge until you're ready to serve. I think it's better this way as the rice paper gets a chance to harden slightly which in my opinion provides a better texture.

Serve them with the dipping sauce on the side and enjoy.

Alfiyet olsun.

sticky pork ribs

Ribs are a meal that defiantly bear a cross to the face of etiquette and utensils; like a sanguivoriphobe (Google it, it's an actual thing) to a blood sucker - they are not welcome here. There's something liberating about pulling meat off bone with your teeth - throw into the scene a spread-eagled woolly mammoth rug and a couple of tusks as leaning posts and I could well be making dinner for a pair of grunting Neanderthals. You'll find rib sauce systematically migrate across your face, further reaching with every bone you gnaw and suck dry as you throw back to the ways of our ancestral cavemen and get your muzzle in amongst all that juicy meat - embrace it.

Sticky, chewy, sweet and sour, these ribs are impossible to resist and tick all the boxes for any animalistic tendencies you fancy exercising, with a little bit of added finesse when it comes to flavour. The glaze is packed full of vibrant citrusy notes and the sweetness from the honey counteracts the spices very well. The secret is to get the ribs really well caramelised before adding any of the other ingredients. As they braise in the oven, all that colour turns into the most amazing flavour with a hint of the Orient. This recipe is one from Gordon Ramsay's book Ultimate Cookery Course.

Sticky Pork Ribs

Serves 3-4

1 kg pork ribs, separated
Olive oil
Sea salt and black pepper
3-4 fat garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
5 cm piece of fresh ginger, peeled and sliced
1-2 tsp dried chilli flakes (to taste)
1 tsp Sichuan peppercorns
2 whole star anise
4 tbsp runny honey
150ml soy sauce
2-3 tbsp rice vinegar
300ml Shaoxing rice wine or medium dry sherry
5 spring onions, sliced
400ml chicken stock

Preheat the oven to 180C.

Season the ribs with salt and pepper, pushing the seasoning into the meat. Heat a roasting tray on the hob with a little olive oil and brown the ribs for 5-10 minutes until  they are coloured on all sides.

Tip If you don't have a roasting tray that can be used on a hob, you can colour the ribs in a large frying pan instead.

Add the garlic, ginger, chilli flakes, Sichuan peppercorns, star anise and honey and continue to cook over the heat for 2 minutes until the honey begins to caramelise. Add the soy sauce, rice vinegar and Shaoxing wine and bring to the boil, simmering for 1 minute. Taste and adjust the flavours, adding more vinegar if necessary. Add the spring onions and stock and bring to the boil. 

Tip If the above was done in a frying pan, now transfer all of the contents into a roasting dish that's been heated up in the oven.

Place the roasting dish back in the hot oven and cook for 1 hour until tender, turning the ribs halfway through the cooking time.

Remove the pan from the oven and place back on the hob (or tip the contents back into the large frying pan). Heat the marinade and reduce for 8-10 minutes until the sauce is thick and syrupy. Turn the ribs in the sauce to ensure they're fully coated. Serve - with napkins.

If you can't quite manage that amount of protein in one hit, leave any remaining ribs sitting in their sticky marinade for a day or two which will help develop their flavour. When you come to finish them off, give them about 20 minutes in a hot oven to ensure they're well heated through.

These rich ribs work very well with some fresh spring rolls; how we ate them and the next post to be added - watch this space.

Alfiyet olsun.

Saturday, 2 March 2013

sticky toffee pudding - recipe

This weekend there was a pretty significant football match taking place, if football (soccer for those over the pond) is your thing. Old time rivalries between the two North London clubs, Arsenal and Tottenham, were due to rear their ugly heads. 

Matt is a serious football fan. And a deadly serious Spurs supporter. Deadly serious like the venom from an Inland Taipan. So serious, that I initially had plans to stay well away from the house from the 4pm Sunday kick-off onwards so as to avoid the stress / tension / flying objects, but they fell through. 

I instead managed to preoccupy myself with some seriously hard graft in the garden for most of the match. This did result in a pre-dinner amuse-bouche of a hefty ibuprofen dose however – digging doesn’t half do the back in.


Matt invited two of his friends over to share in the joy / pain of whatever the result would be – one Arsenal fan and one Spurs fan. Perhaps he was hoping the weight in favour of his own team would help bring down the opposition. 


The former turned up patriotic in his Arsenal shirt. Now for someone who wouldn’t even consider having a red car because of the team that colour represents and doesn’t own a single item of red clothing for the same reason, allowing this shirt to even pass over the threshold was progress, if nothing else. Matt did initially jest ‘You’re not coming in with that on’ as he threw his friend a jumper to conceal the sin. At least, I think he was joking.

While Matt tasked himself with preparing all the savoury food for the guests, I was assigned the enviable job of conjuring up a dessert. When there is a requirement to feed several mouths with something sweet, simple and satisfying, it’s near impossible to go wrong with a classic like sticky toffee pudding. 

A depth of almost caramel-like flavour from the dark muscovado sugars - sweet and sticky and not too heavy. And the fact that it can (and in fact should) be prepared the night before makes it near perfect for entertaining. This is a recipe taken from deliciousmagazine which I have tried and tested several times – I’m yet to encounter a sticky toffee pudding that tastes as good, let alone better.

Sticky toffee pudding

Makes 6-8 portions

For the sponge
75g butter, softened plus extra for greasing
180g medjool dates, stones removed, finely chopped
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
75g golden caster sugar
75g light muscovado sugar
2 medium free-range eggs, lightly beaten
180g self-raising flour
1 tsp baking powder

For the toffee sauce
125g unsalted butter
80g dark soft brown sugar
40g golden caster sugar
1 vanilla pod, split with the seeds scraped out
200ml double cream

Preheat the oven to 180°C/fan160°C/gas 4. Grease a 2.5 litre oven proof dish and set aside.

Put the dates in a bowl and cover with 275ml hot water. Sprinkle on the bicarbonate of soda and set aside for 10 minutes.

Beat the butter and sugars together with an electric hand mixer until light and fluffy. This needs a decent amount of time – do it for around 10 minutes. Gradually whisk in the eggs, beating well between each addition.

Tip If the mixture begins to curdle whilst adding the eggs, mix in a tablespoon of your flour.

Sift over the flour and baking powder and fold in, then add the dates with the water they were sitting in – mix until all fully combined. The mixture will be very wet but don’t worry. Pour into the greased dish and bake for 30-35 minutes until the sponge is just coming away from the sides of the dish.

Meanwhile make the sauce. Melt the butter in a heavy-based saucepan. Add the sugars and vanilla pod, then stir well until the sugar has dissolved. Add the cream and bring up to a vigorous simmer, then bubble for 5 minutes.

Once the sponge is cooked, pierce all over with the thin end of a chopstick or skewer and pour over the hot toffee sauce.


Tip
To get ahead and allow the flavours to mellow and mingle, make the sponge and sauce the night before. Allow both to cool and keep them separate, covered and in the fridge. When you want to serve, heat up the sponge in the oven and warm up the sauce in a pan until both are piping hot. Pour the sauce over the sponge.


Serve this dessert in generous portions. Everyone I know is partial to it sitting in a pool of custard. Others will like it with ice cream. Either way, scoff and enjoy.


Turns out the match went in favour of Spurs. Which is just as well otherwise my walls could have found themselves decorated in a new shade of muscovado brown.

Alfiyet olsun.

Monday, 18 February 2013

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 f
ragrant 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.

Thursday, 14 February 2013

korean at cah-chi - review

bulgogi - Korean barbecue cooked on the table top
There's a vast range of cuisines from the Far East and South-East Asia that are now almost omnipresent in our 'eating-out' repertoire. They provide flavours we have come to find familiar and actively crave. The hot, sweet, sour and saltiness of Thai; fat slippery udon noodles, spanking fresh sashimi and nose-busting wasabi from Japan; the fragrant Pho broths from Vietnam; and the aromatic noodles, light soups, colourful stir-fries and steamed delicacies from China. But when was the last time you heard someone express their desire to ‘go out for a Korean’?

It's likely you haven't, and this is probably because the Western world just doesn't know that much about the food from this country yet. It's a shame because I've had Korean a few times before, and had it again tonight at Cah-Chi in Earlsfield, and it is a cuisine that is yet to disappoint. Traditional Korean meals are noted for the number of side dishes that accompany steam-cooked short-grain rice. Commonly used ingredients include sesame oil, fermented bean paste, soy sauce, salt, garlic, ginger and fermented red chilli paste.

If you're not sure if you've had Korean food before, you almost certainly have if your meal contained kimchi - the national dish of Korea. Almost ubiquitous in its presence at a Korean meal, it is fermented cabbage coated leaf by leaf in a delicious spicy mix of hot pepper flakes, garlic, chives, onion and more. As it ferments it develops a rich and slightly sour flavour - something akin to German sauerkraut but with spice. It whets the appetite like pickles do, and it's a little addictive. Quite glorious.

kimchi - fermented spicy cabbage

Along with the kimchi, I was hankering for some crispy seaweed and so ordered it roasted. It was delivered in a small pile in all its wafer thin saline glory. We were also presented with a complimentary egg roll, potato salad and soya beans. The latter were small, hard and nutty in a sweet sticky sauce - each individually snapped up and feverishly popped into the mouth between chopstick ends at great speed, they were very pleasant indeed.

soya beans in a sweet sticky sauce

Appetisers devoured, our starters soon arrived. At the point of ordering I asked the very accommodating and smiley waitress what she recommended for this course. Once informed that the pork and vegetable dumplings were made on the premises fresh every morning, I didn't hesitate to order them. And they were quite lovely – golden, light and delicate with a very flavoursome filling - dipped in some soy they went down a treat

.
kun mandu - fried pork dumplings

The waitress then began to prepare our table top for the bulgogi – an extremely versatile way of preparing beef and one that most Westerners have sampled at Korean restaurants. Typically in the West it’s cooked on a Korean barbecue on a hot plate in the middle of the table which is what we had at Cah-Chi. Bulgogi is very thinly sliced beef sirloin marinated in spices such as garlic, soy, ginger and more. Along with the beef we also ordered pork belly that had been steeped in similar flavours - both meats were delicious with the beef being particularly tender.




The waitress talked us through the journey of the food from plate to mouth which was best undertaken via a parcel of meat, rice, julienned spring onion speckled with chilli flakes and pickled radish wrapped in a lettuce leaf and dipped into some soya bean paste. A journey with a delightfully satisfying destination.

Accompanying my meal throughout was an alcoholic drink typical of both Korea and its neighbour Japan – plum wine. In Korea it’s called maesil ju and is often presented with whole plums in the bottle, one of which found its way into my glass. I’d describe it as a strong alcoholic fruit juice in the sense that it’s sweet, but not a sickly sweet. Having a palette that does not care for sweet wine made from grapes, I find plum wine delightful and it works wonderfully with the other salty, spicy and bitter flavours you’ll find in a Korean meal. It's also worth mentioning this place is in fact BYO on alcohol with a small corkage charge - yet another reason to visit.



If you happen to be a little further out in South West London, then Cah-Chi is without a doubt well worth a visit. With sophisticated interiors, incredible service, beaming staff, and delicious food, it’s not a place that will disappoint. A colleague of mine used to live close by and visited with his wife almost every week without fail and it was through his recommendation that I first tried it a while back. A recommendation I’m eager to pass on to many more.

Liked lots - food cooked at your table; plum wine; very friendly staff; great appetisers; kimchi; beautiful dumplings; free bay parking close by in the evenings; BYO

Liked less - the pork belly was a little fatty
Good for - date night; sampling this cuisine for the first time; exploring other areas of London

Alfiyet olsun.


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