Review: Kitchen Porter Supper Club

Last night I was brave. Or foolish, depending on your sense of adventure. I went for dinner with 19 people I don't know, in a stranger's house.I discovered the Edinburgh Cake Ladies via a blog, and last October went along to a meeting, clutching my cake nervously. I was welcomed warmly, given advice on how to stop my frosting melting, and went away feeling inspired. Since then, I have kept an eye on their events and been disappointed that I have been too late in applying for places... until the invitation to the supper club arrived in my inbox.

I arrived nervously, clutching my bottle of wine, and was welcomed in by Mark, the chef and host at Kitchen Porter. We collected in his living room, where we sipped Prosecco and nibbled canapes.

Delicious cheese pastries, olives, and Parmesan baskets with pine nuts, basil and tomatoes.

After some chatting, laughing, and mingling, Mark introduced himself and told us a brief history of Kitchen Porters. As a professional chef who has turned to teaching catering students, he missed the buzz of cooking for guests, and along with his wife, decided to set up a supper club.

We were ushered through the kitchen, to our places at the table. We ate...

 Cream of Artichoke Soup

Delicious brown bread rolls

Pan fried red mullet, with pickled vegetables, spinach and fennel puree

   

 Borders Lamb two ways, with creamed potatoes, peas, garlic wild mushrooms and a beautiful jus 

 Deconstructed Carrot Cake - complete with candided carrots and a refreshing sorbet

 Our meal finished with tea and coffee...

 ...served with delicious chocolates

Earlier on during Saturday morning, I'd been looking at another post by the Cake Ladies, which mentioned a pudding club hosted by The Inside Out Chef. I had a look at the website, thinking that an evening of puddings sounded like a dream, but too nervous to put a deposit down on a ticket. I decided to see how Kitchen Porters went first. On her website, Wendy described her first experience of a supper club, which alleviated my worries. Until I was on the bus, clutching my bottle of wine, desperately trying to work out where to get off.

I needn't have worried. The food was lovely and the company warm, fun and chatty. At one point, I ended up having a lesson about twitter, after confessing that I wasn't entirely sure how it worked. Someone commented that it was rare to get 20 women in a room without bitching - there was none, only laughter and chatter. And - it turned out that to my left was Wendy herself. Needless to say that by the end of the evening, I'd handed over my cash and was excitedly planning a car share to Supper Club experience number 2!

Kitchen Porter Supper Club, Edinburgh

http://kitchenportersupperclub.blogspot.co.uk/

twitter: @kitchenporteruk

Review: Urban Angel

There are certain times when I feel the need for a cake and wine. Sadly, most places don't sell these two in combination. Tea and cake will cut it if I can find anywhere that has a table- but there is something rather marvellous about a mid-afternoon gossip and a treat on a Saturday.

A friend introduced me to Urban Angel a year or two ago and since then it's long opening hours and off-the-beaten-track-from-the-rest-of-town locations have made it perfect for catching up with friends. I love that I can pop in for a cup of coffee after work, and not feel guilty for not eating a meal.

My friend and I were feeling particularly in need of refreshment, so went for a glass of wine and a treat each. One chocolate nut brownie, one plum and frangipane tart. Both came served with a dollop of whipped cream and a rather nice berry compote- this wasn't so necessary for the frangipane, but they really set the brownie off. It was definatly chocolatey, but verging on dry and crumbly - not a bit of goo in sight, even if the portion was generous. Without the extras it may have been dry, which is never good for a brownie. The frangipane on the other hand probably didn't need the extras. The pastry was light and crumbly, and the filling somehow both rich and light - almondy fruity perfection. The roasted fruit baked in was absolutely delicious, still slightly tart.

There are pro and cons to Urban Angel. I like their cakes and wine. They're tasty. They're open at non-standard times, have a nice light and airy atmosphere, and the staff have been accommodating when a friend with allergies asked about ingredients and substitutions. I like that their ethos is to use as many local ingredients as possible, and to aim for organic meat and free range eggs. I like that they recycle.
I don't like that our treats were £5.50. Each. Yes, really. The wine was restaurant prices - £3.80 for a small (175ml) glass and £5.30 for a large (250ml) glass. For comparison, a pot of fair trade tea is £2.20.
This is a place to have a treat, rather than a regular coffee.

Afternoon refreshments for two, including a small glass of wine each: £18.60.

Urban Angel - 121 Hanover Street and 1 Forth Street, Edinburgh.

Recipe: Mushroom Soup

Mushrooms are funny things. They are unappetising in colour, smell and texture, but big and tasty on flavour. I feel a bit sorry for them in a way. Like many people - I can't stand a slimy mushroom. I've never understood the 'stuffed mushroom' fad that refuses to go away. Although on reflection, this may be because I hate it when people give them to vegetarians and expect them to be excited.
I am still ploughing on with my eternal battle to Empty The Pantry. It's going well - the looming threat of having to move house is spurring me to eat some interesting combinations, try new things and revisit ingredients that I wasn't convinced about first time round.

When I was a student, I went through a phase of eating huge amounts of mushroom risotto. I'm not entirely sure where this fad came from, although I think it may have had something to do with the oil store on Borough Market, and the truffle infusion that I was persuaded to buy, and then didn't know what to do with.

I always have a packet of dried mushrooms in my cupboard. Their texture and colour is so much more appealing than fresh. The smell makes me think of camping - wet, damp, woody and earthy. But now that the risotto fad has disappeared for the moment, they have been neglected. Until now. This soup takes ages, but tastes wonderful.

Mushroom Soup
Serves 4 as a main

300g mixed dried mushrooms
600g fresh mushrooms
1 large onion
1 clove garlic
50g butter
250ml hot water
500ml chicken or vegetable stock

Soak the dried mushrooms in hot water for about half an hour. Stir them occasionally.
Meanwhile, roughly chop the fresh mushrooms and finely slice the onion and garlic.
After the dried mushrooms have been soaking for half an hour, start cooking. Don't drain the dried mushrooms!
Sautee the onions and garlic in butter until they start to turn transluscent. Add the fresh mushrooms and stir in with the onion, garlic and butter to sautee a little. If they stick to the pan, add a tablespoon of hot stock. They should start to brown, and the liquor from the mushrooms should start to come out.
Stir in the dried mushrooms, and their juice, and cover the mixture with the stock.
Simmer for an hour - half an hour with the lid on, half an hour with the lid off.
Blend the soup. This will be time consuming, mushrooms have a slightly wierd texture when blended. The aim is to break up all of the fibres, to get a creamy but thick texture. If you think you need more liquid - add a tiny, tiny amount at a time.
Serve with buttery crusty bread, a generous swirl of cream, and a sprinking of fresh thyme or rosemary.

Adaptations:
You could make this recipe dairy free by using olive oil instead of butter.
To make it more suitable for small children, use water instead of stock. Add a dollop of mushroom ketchup if it needs an extra kick.
Sauteed fresh wild mushrooms sprinkled on top would be stunning.
Blend in blue Stilton cheese, or crumble on top to serve.

I'm blogging this recipe for Save The Children's Recipe Challenge. Their aim is for thousands of recipes to be collated into an e-book, to be sold as a fundraiser. It's not about increasing aid, or bullying developing countries - it's about encouraging our politicians to get together to actually *do* something about a problem, rather than throwing money at it in the hope that it will go away. You can read more about it at The Pink Whisk.

Edinburgh: A Valvona & Crolla picnic up on Calton Hill

Yesterday was one of those lovely crisp winter days where, despite a slightly fuzzy head, I was desperate to get out and enjoy some fresh air. It may have been bloody freezing and mighty windy, but there's something about Edinburgh in the sunshine that lifts my little heart. And so, a walk up Calton Hill was proposed.
On the way, we passed Valvona & Crolla. The Italian deli is an Edinburgh institution, having been owned by the Conti family since 1934 and expanding beyond their Elm Row location to include a rather tasty (and reasonably priced Ristorante and Coffee Bar on Multrees Walk, and a specialist Emporium in fellow institution Jenners.

I love Valvona & Crolla, although it bemuses me like no other food shop I've found. Think of a price, and double it. Or think of another one and add a tenner. No - really. We're talking £4 jars of jam, £10 balls of mozzarella, and £6 jars of olives. I'm unconvinced about whether the prices are worth it, I've bought the same pasta in Sainsburys for £1.50 which is on sale in V & C for £2.50, but the wonderful range of tasty treats is somewhat of a museum. Admittedly, the wine and bakery sections are reasonably priced, and the assistant working in the wine area at the back was friendly and helpful when I asked whether the restaurant wine list was available in store.

The service in V & C is not great. Mr FS and I had the misfortune of arriving at the meat counter just after another lady- one of those "we'll have a single slice of everything" types who takes forever. The lady on the meat counter spent a good 5 minutes serving her, while her colleague re-stocked on the cheese counter. Another couple wandered up to the cheese counter and she served them, before they carried over to the meat counter and bypassed us. Astonishingly for a busy deli, they only have one meat slicer. Annoyingly, this was only told to us after we'd been served (with no apology for the according wait). Their meat range is small - a couple of types of cured ham, Pastrami, Parma, and a rather tasty Mortadella which we decided would be marvellous in a sandwich with one of their fresh bread rolls.But it's the olives, roast vegetables and fritatta which are really delicious.

After spending a small fortune on a picnic (detailed below) we marched our way up the hill and perched on a bench to enjoy the views.

Arthur's Seat and Salisbury Crags

 

Leith and over to the Kingdom of Fife

 

The New Town

 

The National Monument

Nelson's Monument

We found a bench, looking over the city down towards the shore, and enjoyed a picnic...

 Mortadella ham roll...

 ...with crusty bread and one of the most beautiful views of the city

 Spinach and Ricotta Fritatta

 Chocolate brioche bun...

...never enough chocolate!

Gorgeous views and tasty food. A pretty good alternative to Sunday lunch.

We ate...

Spinach and ricotta fritatta - £1.50

Chocolate brioche - 99p

Rosetta bread roll - 99p

San Pellegrino Aranciata can - £1.15

2 slices of Mortadella £2.59

Total: £6.73

Recipe: Butterbean Soup

I will be moving house shortly, and therefore am attempting to eat everything in my flat. It's something I half heartedly try every now and then, before the lure of Waitrose gets to me, but this time (because I don't want to have to lug even more stuff with me than is necessary), I mean it.

Dried beans and pulses are a pain, in that the majority of them require soaking for a long length of time (overnight usually) before being boiled for between 10 minutes and 2 hours. This process kills off the toxins, and therefore is definately worth doing, but aint half tedious if you're feeling the need for some pulsey protein in your life in a hurry. The end results of the process are, in my experience, mixed. Sometimes they stay rock hard, some times they turn into mush. Sometimes they taste ok, sometimes they taste of absolutely nothing. This is a bit of a bugger, because they're actually really cheap (we're talking about 99p for 1kg dried - that's roughly 99p for 1.5-2kg rehydrated), and incredibly nutritious.

Picture courtesy of Delia

I use tinned butterbeans a lot - they are amazing fried with chorizo and tomatoes, or mashed into a type of Hummus. They thicken sausage and tomato casseroles, and bulk up Chilli Non Carne. However, anyone who has read other recipe's I've done will know that I have a tendency to turn things which I'm not sure about into a) risotto, or b) soup. Unsurprisingly, rehydrated butterbeans are better in b) than a).

Butter bean Soup
(serves 4)

250g dehydrated Butter beans
1 large onion
20g butter
500ml hot stock (Ham stock is amazing in this, if you can get it. Alternatively, Chicken or Veggie will do)
1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary.
upto 200ml hot water.

Prepare the butter beans as on the packet (I soaked overnight, then boiled for 10 minutes).
In a large pan, slowly fry the onion in the butter until soft and translucent.
Tip in the butter beans, rosemary and stock. Simmer for 5 minutes until the beans begin to soften and break.
Blend, adding more water as required to desired consistency.
Serve.

This is a thick soup (think of the texture of Lentil), so smaller portions will be needed than most other vegetarian soups, especially if it's a starter. It is, however, deliciously creamy...

Surprisingly difficult to make soup look attractive in a photo

It's really easy, really cheap, and if you can't be bothered with the dried ones, you could easily substitute 2 tins of drained beans. If you fancy that bacon tang, but can't get hold of ham stock (I used Knorr stuff I had floating around), sprinkling with some crispy bacon bits, or crispy parma ham would be really tasty.

Review: Joseph Pearce

A lovely friend of mine had a baby a year or so ago, and has been struggling to find locations in town that are child-friendly. It's a tricky, and touchy, subject. I can't say that I especially enjoy having my lunch interrupted by screaming, yelling or crying children - that's to say nothing of the perils of waitressing with toddlers on the roam - but I do agree with my friend that having a child should not mean that the only place you can socialise with other adults is Wacky Warehouse.

Photo from their website

We'd both heard good things about Joseph Pearce's, part of the local Boda Bar chain, which is situated at the top of Leith Walk. The food got good recommendations from friends, who informed us it was a child friendly place, and therefore decided to have a trip for brunch. We were keen, being the first to arrive at opening time - 11am, where we were greeted cheerily by a waitress that helped us carry the buggy up the stairs to their back room. They've developed a child friendly zone, complete with microwave, plastic cups and sofas at the back of restaurant area, where we were made to feel instantly welcome. My friends daughter was excited about the range of toys, while we were excited about the menus in old childrens books. Nice touch.

The staff didn't mind the little one nibbling raisins that my friend had brought with her and helped us put up a high chair when our food arrived. We'd both plumped for the classic brunch - a toasted brioche, topped with mushrooms, tomatoes and eggs, with an addition of bacon. At £7.70, it was on the expensive side for a fairly small portion, so I was glad we'd also plumped for a portion of hassleback potatoes (£3.60).

 

 

By 12.30, the area was heaving with a mix of people, varying from ladies lunching, to young families catching up with friends. The atmosphere was nice, friendly, and the staff attentive, despite it being busy. It's a shame that the children's area is right at the back - attempting to leave with a buggy and a toddler by 1.30, when the bar was packed, wasn't an easy experience, but the staff were again there to give us a hand.

Would I go back to JP's? Yes, if I was meeting a friend with a child. It was nice to be able to take our time and enjoy the surroundings and company. No, if I was going 'child-less'. The portions, whilst tasty, were small for the price, it was incredibly noisy, and the crammed in furniture made me feel a little squashed.

Two breakfasts, two juices and a portion potatoes: £26

Recipe: Lazy Bruschetta

I have been off work for a few days this week with a stomach bug. It was grim. I won't go in to too much detail, but it was my first 'adult' experience of having any form of gastric horridness, and it happened to be whilst on a course. In Stirling. Not Edinburgh.

And so, I have been feeling sorry for myself, sorry for my stomach, and mostly sorry for my appetite. While I have consumed epic amounts of flat Coke and hot Ribena, the food element of my diet has been lacking this week - sad times (although on the plus side, I've lost the 3lbs I put on over Christmas. Pro's and Cons, eh?).

When I am tired, stressed, or under the weather, I think I want stodge. Macaroni cheese, pie, sausage and mash. What my stomach actually wants is 'clean' food with a decent nutritional value, what my brain and hands want is to do the minimum amount of cooking needed. This week, my body realised it was going to have to compromise - and so we arrived at Lazy Bruscetta.

The easiest, laziest bruschetta. 

Serves 2.

Small onion, very finely chopped (red ideally).

1 small garlic clove.

5 tomatoes (plum if you have them, but any will do, especially slightly over ripe. You could also use 10-15 cherry tomatoes, chopped in half).

10 olives (preferably a mix of green and black).

2 teaspoons of capers, drained.

Glug of decent quality olive oil.

4 pieces of bread (crusty is great, but any form of receptacle - including rice cakes - will do).

Salt and pepper.

Finely chop the onion and garlic - really finely - place in a microwavable dish with a lid, and add a glug of olive oil. Steam in the microwave for 2-3 minutes, until they begin to soften and become transluscent.

While they're cooking, roughly chop the tomatoes. Add them in to the onions, along with roughly chopped olives and the capers, and stick in the microwave again for a minute to soften the tomatoes, and warm up the rest of the ingredients.

Serve straight away on crusty bread (if you have it) or toast (if you don't). Or, shove it in a pitta bread for a vague attempt at recreating the marvellous Greek salads from holidays. However you have it, sprinkle liberally with salt and freshly ground pepper. 

Great for modifying - mix in an anchovy, drizzle with balsalmic reduction, add some fresh basil along with the tomatoes, sprinkle with leftover mozarella or parmesan, or place on top of parma ham. 

It'll also last a day in the fridge - perfect if you're tight for time, lazy, or feeling under the weather.

Recipe: Tinned Tomato Soup

I am a massive fan of tinned tomato soup. It is wonderful stuff with grated cheese on top, Worcestershire sauce dropped in, or straight from the tin on a camping trip. There's something really reminiscent of childhood lunches about it, probably due to the luminous colour and the fear that I'll drop it down my top and leave a lurid orange stain. Having spent half of my day staring out of my living room window at a very foggy and rainy park, and the storms brought on by Hurricane Katia, I need comfort. Preferably comfort that doesn't involve taking my slippers off or the use of an umbrella. Tinned tomato soup is the answer.

Tinned Tomato Soup
Serves 2

25g butter

1 garlic clove, sliced or diced

1 medium onion/small leek, chopped
1 tin of plum tomatoes (use posh ones if you can, but if you're feeling the need for frugality, smartprice ones can be topped up with an extra tablespoon of tomato puree)
1 tablespoon tomato puree
generous pinch of sugar
250ml low salt chicken or vegetable stock
50ml cream
salt and pepper to taste

Melt the butter in a pan and add the onion and garlic. Cook gently until they begin to soften, and add the tomatoes. Stir through, and add in the stock and sugar.
Simmer through for 5 minutes, until the tomatoes are soft and the leek or onion are translucent. Blend thoroughly, adding more hot stock if needed until smooth. At the desired consistency, add the cream, and return to the heat slowly until at serving temperature.

Review: Demijohn

I’m not a shopper, but I don’t half love shopping for food. Or drink. Or kitchenwares. This does mean two things – my nearest and dearest always expect some form of comestible as a presents, and I have a tendency to get a little over excited when purchasing.

My flatmate hit a ‘scary age’ last week, and therefore the purchase of alcohol was necessary on this occasion – luckily for her Edinburgh has some of the finest booze shops this side of the border.

One of my favourite shops in town is ‘Demijohn’. I discovered it while out shopping with my mum shortly after I moved to Edinburgh. We’d started at the bottom of the Grassmarket on Castle Terrace, where we’d got carried away at the Edinburgh Farmer’s market, and wound our way up the hill towards Victoria Street towards home. Victoria Street, despite its slightly random location, has some of the best independent shops in town. Demijohn is towards the top – past the knitting shop and the one with the exciting dresses, perched in a row along with Mellis’ Cheesemonger and Oink!, a shop I’m sorry to say I’ve never been in, but judging by the queues and amazing whole roasted pig in the window, I need to get my chops around one of their hog roast rolls.

The concept of Demijohn is simple, and I think that’s part of the reason why I love it so much. Even the name is pretty simple really. A demijohn is  the vessel used to brew wine, mead or beer, but it’s also the name given to the vessels that liquids are stored in. It also describes pretty succinctly what the shop contains – shelves full colourful globes of delicious liqueurs, golden oils and dark vinegars, each with a small rubber tube and valve to allow the liquid to flow out and a hand written description.

There are two things that make this shop so wonderful – the produce (all British, championing small producers, specialist products and unusual ideas) and the staff. The staff are knowledgeable, friendly and happy to advise. I once went in to buy a British version of Limoncello – they didn’t have any lemon liqueurs but they did have a lime vodka and a grapefruit gin, and I was provided with a slurp of each without even asking to help me decide. The same happened last week when I went in to buy my flatmate’s present. I’d had a gander on their website and was fairly sure that I was going to get her the chocolate orange crème liqueur, but they didn’t have any left on display. I was offered a taste of a caramel instead, while a member of staff went off to rummage and see if they had any remnants in the store room. He came back waving a container, saying rather apologetically there was only just enough left at the bottom for a 250ml serving “if that was ok”. Not just ok, but marvellous – there’s decent customer service for you.

The packaging of the gift was beautiful. I’d brought an old bottle, bought on a previous visit. They (reasonably enough) ask that you buy one of their containers, but when you have one you’re welcome to bring it back to be refilled whenever you want – all you pay then is for the contents. Nice way to encourage return visits and recycling. The contents of the bottle are written on the side using a white marker pen, stopped up with a cork and wrapped using white tissue and raffia. They look lovely– but nowhere near as good as they taste!

Demijohn, 32 Victoria Street, EH1

Also online, Glasgow and York

Recipe: Lentil Daal

August should not be wet and rainy. It should not involve 'localised flooding', broken umbrellas and soggy socks. I should not be thinking of using my hot water bottle in the office. This August has been rubbish, weather-wise. It's never Edinburgh's finest month, which is a real shame, as it's when the tourists flood to town to enjoy the city and it's atmosphere during the festival.

This is my fourth festival - my third as a local, and like every year I do feel like I should probably take a bit more in. Alas though, like every year, I can't quite bring myself to spend £14 on watching a comedian who may (or most likely may not) be funny. It was at my second festival - my first as a local - that I first 'discovered' lentil daal, whilst chomping down some Mosque Kitchen with a friend. I'm sure my parents will say that I grew up eating lentil daal, and they're probably right, but for some reason I don't think I ate it for the entire 3 years of my undergraduate degree and therefore the first time I actively ate it as an adult classes as the 'discovery' moment. It's not the classiest or most aesthetically pleasing of foods, but it is cheap, nutritious and highly comforting.

Lentil daal.
Serves 2 generously as a main, or 4-6 as part of a thali

200g yellow split peas
1 large onion, diced
2 tablespoons ghee
1 garlic clove, diced
500ml low salt stock (vegetable or chicken)
500ml hot water
teaspoon mustard seeds
teaspoon coriander seeds
2 teaspoons garam masala
1 medium hot red chilli, deseeded and diced
100g - or one bag - spinach, roughly shredded
100ml single cream (optional, but mighty tasty)

Rinse the lentils to remove any flour or grit. If possible, soak overnight, rinsing occasionally.
In a large heavy bottomed pan (one with a lid), melt 1 tbsp of the ghee and very gently fry the onion, chilli and garlic until soft.
Stir in the lentils and stock, and cover. Simmer slowly for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to stop the lentils sticking and burning. Continue until the liquid is absorbed. The lentils should begin to break down, becoming creamy and thick in consistency. If they still have a degree of hardness, continue to add water until they are cooked, and remove from the heat. They should remain a thick consistency - do not allow them to dry out or burn on the base, but be careful not to add so much water that they are soupy.
In a small frying pan, melt another tablespoon of ghee. Add the mustard and coriander seeds, and cook until they 'pop' - but be careful not to burn. Stir in the garam masala to toast slightly. Stir in the spices in to the daal, along with the spinach and cream - the spinach should wilt down and cook. Heat slightly - but do not boil - if necessary.
Ideal served with mini naan.

Review: The National Museum of Scotland Brasserie

I'm not a fan of generalising, but I've recently come to a slightly sad conclusion.
Most museum cafes are crap.
I've pondered the reasons for this on and off for a while, ever since I had some particularly bad experiences at the National Gallery of Scotland's cafe on three separate occasions. I know, more fool me for going back, but generally I believe in second chances.

There are a couple of reasons I've come up with, most involving franchising and tenders - areas I'll admit that I don't know a vast amount about. If the profits of the enterprise are not being put back in to funding the museum or gallery, but in to the pockets of the owners and shareholders then it is perhaps sad but not entirely surprising that cafes and restaurants are not often up to the standard of the museum itself. They're not so much income generators, but a service that museums provide because they are expected to. Of course, there are exceptions - hence my reluctance to generalise - but sadly in the big tourist spots of Edinburgh and London it increasingly seems to be the case.

The National Gallery of Scotland's cafe is, for example, run by the Contini family, who also own Centotre on George Street. Until recently, they also had Zanzero in Stockbridge, but perhaps tellingly that has vanished rather quietly and become something else instead. They've renamed their NGS venture "The Scottish Cafe and Restaurant" and have managed to fill the venue rather admirably with diners in the time they've owned it, but there have been problems - poor service, soup so salty it had to be returned, drinks orders that were taken but never delivered...

Anyway. I digress. I am not supposed to be reviewing The National Gallery's efforts, but those of the newly re-vamped National Museum of Scotland instead. I fear this has also fallen foul of the franchise.

Mr FS and I decided to take a wander up to the museum last Saturday to see what had been done since the revamp and, of course, decided to partake in a midafternoon snack. The cafe section is in an interesting spot - nicely nestled in the main hallway entrance of the old building, underneath archways and tucked away to the side behind glass panels. It's a nice spot for people watching, with comfy chairs and fairly well spaced tables (although I did notice that the slightly haphazard layout seemed to be causing space issues for a gentleman in a wheelchair). And - best of all - the food looks amazing. The museum has rather cannily placed the cafe at the bottom of a staircase, so as you walk down you are faced with a wall of enormous home made cakes and pastries.

Strong contender for the largest scone I've ever had. And yes, that is real clotted cream!

The entrance to the cafe is a little gap in the glass screens. When we arrived at about 3.30, we wandered over to find a crowd of people looking confused by the entrance - and were then told that we would have to wait 15 minutes until the lunch service was finished - even though the cafe was half empty and there were tables ready. We had a wander around the shop and went back when the crowd had vanished, whereby we were greeted by a girl in jeans and a cardigan who presented us with menus and pointed to a table. The waiting staff were also messily dressed - some in jeans, some in black trousers, some in white tshirts and some in smarter white shirts. Confusing. Nice blue butcher's apron's though. So, we sat down and began to inspect our menus - which were different. Mine had Cheese Scone's listed, Mr FS's didnt. Confusing. We told our waitress, who replied with a mumbled apology, and then put our menus back on to the pile with the rest anyway.

They don't even look the same!

After about 15 minutes, our order was taken - they'd run out of Cheese scones (unsurprising, considering we didn't know if they were being offered at all), so we went for two Fruits, a coffee and an Earl Grey. The tea was loose, served in an unbleached paper strainer - for once not too much tea for the pot, although slightly disappointing that I wasn't offered lemon. The scones themselves were fantastic - huge, quite dense and cinnamon-y, and served with liberal portions of jam and cream.When I asked for butter it was brought straight over in another generous portion, nicely served in little ceramic pots - no paper packets here! I'm sad to say, I couldn't finish mine. Always disappointing when that happens.
We then waited about 15 minutes to get someone's attention for the bill, and decided to leave a tip because we couldn't be bothered waiting for our change.

I don't really like being negative in a review. The cafe had only been open a few weeks, it's all quite new, the staff looked very young and inexperienced - but I have to say, the service was shockingly bad, especially considering it was rather pricey even for table service. It was disorganised, waits were lengthy, and the staff appeared seriously in need of some training in the basics. A real shame. I won't be rushing back to try their lunch menu.

Tea and scones for two (including small tip): £10.

Recipe: Green Pea Soup

Soup is marvellous. Pea soup is particularly so, it's fresh and clean, a gorgeous colour, and totally delicious.
Making soup is really easy too - so much easier than people often thick. I tend to follow the same pattern with mine - chop up veg, fry in butter, add stock, boil, blend, add a bit more stock. The secret is, in my humble opinion, to add slightly less stock that you think you'll need. You can always add more during the blending if it's too thick, but taking it away if it's too thin is nigh on impossible. However, if you do fancy making pea soup and would like a recipe to follow...

Pea Soup
Serves 2

250g frozen garden peas
1 medium onion, diced
25g butter
500ml of chicken stock
50ml cream (optional)

Sautee the onion in melted butter, until translucent, in a medium sized pan.
Stir through the frozen peas, and cover in 250ml of stock. Simmer gently with the pan lid on for about 10 minutes, or until the peas are slightly over cooked.
Blend until smooth, adding more hot stock if needed until it's the desired texture. If you fancy adding a bit of cream in, now's the time to do it. About 50ml is perfect - just a little - not too much, or it'll swamp the delicate pea flavour.
Serve right away with heavily buttered brown bread.

Recipe: Butternut Squash Soup

The last couple of weeks have been a bit crap, and therefore my meals have largely involved toast in various combinations- poached eggs on toast, beans on toast, cheese on toast, toast with honey... you get the idea.

I did decide, though, that in an attempt to rectify the nutritional imbalance of meals consisting mostly of carbohydrates with protein, I'd shove in a few of my five-a-day on the side.

Butternut Squash Soup
Serves 6 as a starter, 4 as a lunch.

1kg (roughly one large) butternut squash
2 medium red chillis, deseeded and finely chopped
1 large leek, chopped into rings
2 cloves of garlic, diced
1 litre chicken (or veg) stock
50g butter or margerine
100ml single cream (optional, but strongly recommended)
1 level teaspoon smoked paprika
cayenne pepper to taste

Peel your squash, using a potato peeler or super-sharp knife. Take out the stringy middle bit, the seeds, as well as any green veins down the outside, and chop into chunks.
Meanwhile, fry your leek, garlic and chillis off in the butter until the leeks soften. Make sure they don't stick to the bottom of the pan - if they start to, then chuck in a tbsp of stock to loosen it up.
Add in the butternut squash, cover with the stock, and simmer for 20 minutes until softened and slightly mushy.
Allow to cool slightly, add the paprika, and blend until smooth. Add more liquid if necessary, and cayenne pepper to taste if necessary. Remember that if you're adding cream, it'll dilute the chilli heat slightly.
Place the soup back onto the heat, and bring up to a gentle simmer. Take off the heat, add the cream, and stir through.

Serve immediately in warmed bowls, spooning a pretentious drizzle of cream on top for aesthetic value. Ideal with toast.

Recipe(s): Ghee and Paneer

There are a couple of occasions in life which are irrationally scary. I’m not talking starting a new job scary, or buying a new car scary – they’re both highly sensible things to be wary of, because they both involve the fear of the unknown. I mean the times like wearing new shoes out for the first time. Using your annual bus pass for the first time.  Having a dinner party and introducing your new bloke to your best mate and her chap. You know the type of things. Luckily though, unlike the really genuinely terrifying occasions, the irrational ones can be got through with the crutches of wine and food.
Seeing as one of my guests was veggie, I decided to go for the easy option, and make for a curry. Mine tend to be largely vegetable and pulse based, mainly because they’re cheap and cheerful, and because the spices hide a multitude of pre-payday back-of-the-fridge sins. And, lets face it, when you’re trying to impress people – you can’t go wrong with a curry.

It's fair to say that I’m a sucker for punishment, and therefore decided that rather than take the easy option and buy my ingredients for my curry, I’d make them. If anyone else fancies being daft enough to make their own Paneer and Ghee the morning of a dinner party, this is how…

Paneer
(4 pints of milk makes about 350g)

Ingredients and equipment:
Full fat cows milk
Lemon juice, about 50ml - or - 250ml natural yoghurt. 
Muslin or cheesecloth (mine was £1.75/metre from John Lewis. You could use a sterilised pillow case cut up though, if you need to)
A colander
Clean tea towels 



In a pan you don’t mind scrubbing (in case of burn!) slowly heat the milk, until it begins to simmer. 
When it begins to bubble, quickly add a teaspoon of lemon juice (or several tablespoons of yoghurt), and remove from the heat. 

The milk should begin to separate – slowly at first, looking slightly like cottage cheese on the surface. Stir gently with a wooden spoon, until the solids are completely separated, and floating in a pale watery liquid. 

Strain the liquid through a sieve lined with cheesecloth (muslin), and allow the liquid to drain out.

If you have time, hanging the cheesecloth from a tap will allow extra liquid to drain off.

Place the parcel on a clean hard surface such as a wooden chopping board, and weigh down to flatten and drain any final liquid out, for approximately 2 hours. A large, heavy pan filled with water - the one you cooked the milk in - is ideal for this. Quite a bit of extra liquid will come out over time, so it's worth popping a tea towel under the chopping board to absorb any extra milk.

Rinse, and store under water until needed for use.

Ghee
Ingredients and equipment:
500g unsalted butter
heatproof storage container
strainer
muslin
(makes about 350g - a jam jar full)

Take two blocks of unsalted, preferably organic, butter and melt slowly over a low flame. I’d use a steel pan, or one that you don’t mind scrubbing. 

When the butter has melted, keep it on the flame, but don’t stir it. It should slowly start to bubble away – this is a good thing. Allow it to bubble. It’ll make a ‘whooshing’ noise, as it gets really hot – a sign that the water from the butter has started to split away from the milk and fat and is evaporating off. 

It will continue to do this for about 30-45 minutes (depending on the size of your pan). Skim off any white scum that develops on the top as necessary while it is bubbling away. When the noise has subsided, and the water has evaporated, you should be left with a pale golden liquid, the colour of golden syrup. If the liquid is darker, towards a brown or caramel liquid, it has burnt, so keep an eye on it.

Pour the liquid, still without stirring, through a strainer. I used a tea strainer lined with a couple of layers of cheesecloth. 

Decant into a heat-proof, clean, dry container (an old jam jar is perfect), and allow to cool slowly. It will solidify when cooled. 

Ghee keeps fairly indefinitely and doesn’t need to be refrigerated – some schools of thought say it’s better if it isn't as it prevents condensation which is bacteria's best friend.

I'll admit, after a morning of being rather productive, I was a little lazy in the afternoon and followed other people's recipes for my curry selections - a rather marvellous saag paneer, a surprisingly easy pea and tomato curry with paneer (although I chucked in a tin of tomatoes instead of the fresh ones), and a slightly dull chana dal (I didn't have tamarind. Who does?!). 
Easy, cheap, and fun - give it a bash.