This past weekend, blessed with the sun and soaring temperatures, saw the arrival of the two-day Tapas Fantasticas festival hosted by Rioja. I didn’t think it was well-advertised at all; I only found out on the first day of the festival and made sure to go the next day. It was taking place near Tower Bridge, which is only a short tube ride away from my flat. Not to mention the gorgeous weather (um, heat wave? You can live in Hong Kong for 17 years and then try to tell me that 28C is a heat wave) and free entry – so off I went to indulge in food.

Of course, the event was not just about food; plenty of wine was also on offer. I didn’t try any because I’m not a huge drinker and would probably not tolerate it well in the heat, but it would have cost £3 for a glass with 4 sample tokens, which gives you a rather small volume to taste. There were also cooking demonstrations (I just missed one by Jose Pizarro, unfortunately), live music, and even a children’s play area, which I felt was a thoughtful gesture. But onto the food! The first plates we tried were from Camino’s stall. Check out that grill next to those blistered chorizo sausages!

Chorizo sandwich, £4

I also had the following beauty – the best part was actually the tomatoes. Refreshingly tangy and sweet, drizzled with olive oil and accompanied by translucent slices of jamon, this plate really hit the spot as the sunshine relentlessly bore down on us, with most shady spots taken. The juicy tomatoes definitely made for messy eating – the tomato juice and olive oil was practically running down my arm. I probably looked pretty barbaric eating this right in front of the festival’s entrance.

Spanish ham with tomatoes and bread, £4

At this point I was still hungry, so we found another stall whose name I can’t remember and bought their chilled rice pudding and baked rice with chorizo, meat, and something else. The rice pudding was a huge stodgy portion for £3, which probably would have been better had it been halved and sold for £2, as I couldn’t finish it even with another person to share it with. On the other hand, the baked rice looked deeply savoury with each rice grain glistening in a most tempting shade of brown and studded with various bits of meat. The portion was a little stingy for £4, but it was tasty nonetheless.

With the addition of the two rice dishes, we were now properly stuffed and couldn’t sample any of the other food stalls’ offerings. Perhaps it would have been good to go on both days to avoid a total binge-fest within the space of 2 hours; I will keep that in mind for next time. It was a lovely way to spend a few hours on a Sunday! Remember to keep an eye out for this event next year in 2012.

Rioja Tapas Fantasticas
Potters Fields Park

My 20th birthday was celebrated in a pleasant manner, although the events that would come in the months following my birthday had a huge impact on my memory of winter 2009/2010. But there were  a few fun moments in December that I do remember and want to write about. This is one of them.

Two of my friends took me out for lunch at Launceston Place, part of the hugely successful D&D restaurant empire in London. I had heard that while serving competent food at reasonable prices with stunning interior decoration, most did not have the capability to truly grasp a customer by the collar and say, “This food is going to knock your socks off.” Launceston Place is the exception. It honestly deserves more accolades than it has right now, as it remains one of my most memorable meals to date.

When we arrived, the restaurant was nearly empty; it didn’t fill up the whole time we were there, but perhaps that was due to the fact that we went on a weekday and that the location isn’t prime for drawing in businesspeople. We were sat right in front of the cheese trolley, what a temptation! (None of us ended up with cheese at the end, however.)

Nibbles were presented as soon as we sat down – parsnip crisps. As a rule, I do not eat parsnips in any form. But I did try some of these, and to my surprise, they didn’t have that awful, rotten-carrot-like flavour of parsnips that I abhor.

We were then given an amuse bouche of a hot and cold pea cappucino, served in a shot glass with cold mousse on top and hot soup on the bottom. This was absolutely delicious, though completely out of season. I would have happily devoured an entire bowlful of the soup. Also, they spotted my very conspicuous Canon and came over to ask for a picture! Of course I obliged.

All of us went for the 3-course set menu, priced at a wholly reasonable £20; the a la carte would have blown all of our wallets into oblivion. Both of my friends had the cep risotto, Spenwood cheese, while I busied myself with potted foie gras, Maldon sea salt. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to try the lobster soup with brandy & saffron, which sounded like the perfect antidote to an icy day. The risotto came in a cute copper pan and was quite a large portion for a starter; my friends couldn’t finish theirs. I loved the presentation of my foie gras starter; although it might be seen as tacky and overdone, food served on slabs of slate is my weakness. Again, the portion size was extremely generous for a starter. The foie gras itself was smooth and sweet, with the crunchy sea salt intensifying the rich taste and contrasting nicely with the creamy texture.

Next to come were my friends’ mains of smoked trout, watercress, potatoes. The trout was cooked beautifully; the fish was flaky, firm, and moist with a delicate flavour that wasn’t overshadowed by the accompanying watercress and thin shavings of new potatoes. My main of braised wild hare, pistachio butter, chicory and pear salad was a little more complex with varied textures and contrasting flavours, but the hare had been a touch overseasoned. That being said, I really liked how the toasted pistachio topping offered a much-needed crunch to complement each tender forkful of hare. I wasn’t too fond of the salad, but it was only a matter of personal taste (I have yet to appreciate the merits of blue cheese). The chicory was bitter, the pear was sweet and juicy, and the blue cheese was pungent. If I’m being honest, I thought it worked perfectly without the blue cheese, since the hare was quite salty.

After our mains came a pre-dessert palate cleanser. Unfortunately I failed to take note of what it was – it tasted of berries and mulled wine topped with candied orange peel. Very appropriate for the season, and whetted our appetite for dessert, even though we were all full to the seams by then.

After a 15 minute wait in which my friends and I tried and failed to take a decent picture with all of us in it, our desserts arrived: apple tart, homemade clotted cream (for two), and banana sticky toffee pudding, Guinness ice cream. My friend’s sticky toffee pudding looked excellent, but I didn’t really have any as my apple tart was enormous. The apple tart, which was a tarte tatin, came in a large copper pan with a little cup of thick clotted cream. It was absolutely the best dish of the day. The pastry was flaky and caramelized, and the apples were sweet, still with a bite to them, glossy with the shade of burnished caramel thanks to the butter and sugar. Served piping hot with a dollop of cold clotted cream, it was the perfect end to a lovely, relaxing meal.

We actually spent nearly 3 hours at Launceston Place, which was helped by the fact that our bottoms were comfortably sat on lush, plump cushions. The service was outstanding, with the chatty waiters engaging us with humour, topping our drinks up often and checking to see if everything was all right, without being too obtrusive. Prices have increased now; it’s £22 for the 3-course set lunch menu, but it changes every so often and is still great value for money. If only I could afford to live closer and visit more frequently.

Launceston Place
1a Launceston Place, Kensington

It was a long trek out to southwest London all the way from the eastern reaches of the Jubilee line, let me tell you. Not only that, but we ended up half an hour late from our reservation at 6:30pm on a Saturday because we couldn’t find our way from the tube station. Also, in my hunger-induced haze, I forgot to note down their phone number so it took a lot of frantic phone calls to various friends to see who could look it up for us. Fortunately, the man who answered the call at Harwood Arms seemed used to customers’ cries of “I’m lost, please help”, so we finally ended up outside the modest-looking gastropub at 7pm.

This was my first experience at a gastropub, and among the most highly regarded at that, so I had no idea what to expect (aside from great food, and game in particular). It’s cozy inside, with wooden floors and furniture and rustic decoration. It’s actually rather small – I was afraid they wouldn’t give us our table, being so late and all, but it was waiting for us. I had expected the pub to be busier, but it was mostly full of drinkers rather than eaters. Perhaps it was a combination of the persistent rain outside and it only being 7pm. I always think it’s odd when people book tables for 8pm and after because I get ridiculously hungry, but I’m veering off course. Let’s talk about the food.

One thing I must say and will probably repeat: the bread at Harwood Arms is the best I’ve ever had in my life. Ever. They brought us two thick slices each of a dark and white bread placed in a linen bag. The dark one might have been rye or pumpernickel (probably the latter, though I admit now that my knowledge of bread is pretty dismal) and I have no idea what the white bread was, just that both were excellent, crusty and warm and chewy. It’s not often that I eat bread without butter, but I ate almost all of my rye/pumpernickel one unbuttered – the flavour was unbelievable. Harwood Arms should just turn itself into a bakery (assuming the bread was made on-site) and I would make the trek from southeast London every week. (It’s an hour-long journey, if not more!)

Did I mention the bread was fantastic?

Sorry, I’ll continue with the rest of our courses now. For starters, it was a half dozen Hereford snails with oxtail braised in stout, parsley crumbs and bone marrow (£7) for me and Berkshire hare stewed in ale with chestnut dumplings and Lincolnshire poacher (£7.50) for my dining victim T. The snails arrived in delicate ceramic cups (for quail’s eggs, perhaps) arranged on a wooden board, with a little snail-pick. Unfortunately they didn’t provide any snail-holders (my snail-as-food terminology has clearly developed well) so I had to place my fingers on the burning hot shells to extract the chewy nuggets inside. They were delightful: little savoury bites that hit like an injection of umami straight onto the tastebuds, most likely from the oxtail and marrow. The hare didn’t taste very strong (not sure if that’s a good thing), but I could detect some of that “gamey” taste.

My main of whole rabbit leg stewed in cider and mustard with smoked bacon, prunes and Swiss chard (£15.75) arrived shortly after, along with the second main of roast pheasant breast and green peppercorn sausage with pearl barley, butternut squash and black cabbage (£15.50). I’d never had rabbit before, so I was surprised at its lack of gameyness. It was so tender that the knife was nothing more than a tool to push the meat onto the fork rather than separation. Personally, I found the liquid a little too salty, but I suppose that’s what the prunes were for! (I had to pass on the prunes – they’ve never appealed to me ever since my dad offered one to “aid digestion”.) Here’s where the bread would have come in handy had we not emptied the bag at the beginning of the meal. Creamy mashed potatoes offered a suitable subsitute to soak up the gravy, however.

The pheasant was pleasant (haw haw) but I only had a bite before it was gobbled up, so I can’t comment much. Tasted like a chicken with more complexity.

The bill came to just under £60 for two, with service and two non-alcoholic drinks. Service was flawless (I was allowed to keep a copy of the menu, although it’s all creased now), the ambience was buzzy if a little loud from tipsy drinkers within the same room, and the food was spot-on. Also, bonus points for the bread because I would seriously go back just to eat their bread for dinner.

The Harwood Arms
27 Walham Grove, Fulham

Addendum:While I raved about the quality of the bread back in 2009, I’ve had better at St John Bread & Wine since then. In the last few years we’ve seen a huge surge in the quality of gastropub offerings such as Bull & Last and  Anchor & Hope; I believe Harwood Arms is still one of the best places to go for game when the season is right, but there are definitely other gastropubs out there that rival the rest of the British food offered by the Harwood Arms.

This is kind of an ugly picture, I know. But in my defence, I was in a terrible mood when I took this picture and to be honest, I didn’t even want to eat it. If you know me well, you’re probably thinking “when would she ever pass up dinner?”

The answer is when a)  the cold virus is alive and active in my body, sending me into fits of sneezes so violent my organs feel like seizing; b) I’ve just sliced into my thumb with a pair of kitchen scissors, ironically not when actually USING them, but when washing the damn things; c) I have to descale the fish myself because the fishmonger frickin’ lied to me about the fish being descaled already; d) the meal just isn’t cooked well; or e) all of the above. (It was the last option. Are you surprised?)

I confess that the fish you see above is completely undercooked. I’ve never pan-fried fish before, only steamed or gently baked, so as my first foray into this whole fish on a pan business I wasn’t too pleased. Also, the skin stuck to the pan. Which is fine with me because I don’t like the skin, but for presentation it does look a bit naked before you tuck in. Anyway, here’s a haphazard recipe.

Pan-fried sea bream with mushrooms and plum tomatoes

• 2 tbps of olive oil
• 1 clove of garlic, smashed (not minced)
• 1 whole sea bream, gutted and descaled
• handful of plum tomatoes, halved or quartered depending on size
• large handful of mushrooms (chestnut or white button will do), sliced
• wedge of lemon (optional)

Heat up the olive oil in a pan until it shimmers, then toss in the garlic and swirl it around the pan, making sure it doesn’t burn. Carefully place the sea bream in the pan and let it cook for about 7 minutes (I cooked mine for around 4 minutes per side, which was obviously not enough). Add a few tablespoons of water just to create some steam and juices, then throw in the tomatoes and let them release their juices and mingle with the oil while the sea bream cooks on the first side. Remember to season the fish on each side! Turn it over and cook for another 7 minutes until the fish is completely cooked to your liking.

Remove the fish and the tomatoes from the pan and place them on your serving plate. Cook the mushrooms in the same pan that you used for the fish; season with salt so they release their mushroomy juices, then pour all of that onto the fish. Serve with a squeeze of lemon if you want – I don’t think it’s needed if your tomatoes are acidic enough.

Serves 1 hungry person.

As an aside, hi! I’m back from my unannounced hiatus. It’s not completely stopped me from eating out, though, so I have hundreds of photos I need to upload and restaurants to blog about. It will take awhile, unfortunately!

Back to Cafe Luc. I’d originally wanted to book for 9 of us, but obviously calling 4 hours before we were supposed to have dinner didn’t exactly leave us with many options. As many of us had school the next morning and the only time slot offered to us was at 8:15pm, the manager agreed to give us a table for 6pm on the condition we’d give the table back after 2 hours. I wasn’t keen on keeping an eye on the watch as it feels like a race, almost, but what could we do?

Being the first one to arrive, I sat down and ordered a cup of tea while waiting for the others. It was very quiet at 6pm, but the place was buzzing at a pleasant-enough decibel level by the time we left – not too loud, yet not too hushed. I really enjoyed my tea, funnily enough. The tea set was very chic, shiny lacquered black with gold trim, and the sugar came in a little matching bowl but they weren’t cubes nor was it regular granulated sugar, just somewhere in between. And they gave me a little square of dark chocolate with aniseed to go with it (I didn’t get to eat it because someone else scarfed it down before I realised what was happening, grr).

After everyone else arrived, we placed our orders. Most of us went for the 3-course set menu which can be had for £15.50, but The One Who Stole My Chocolate ordered the Belgian set menu (also 3 courses for £15.50) and some went a la carte. We were presented with two baskets of crusty French bread which was unremarkable. At least the butter was salted and sufficiently soft. My starter, terrine of jambon persillé with Greek mushrooms and grain mustard dressing was lovely. Several fat, pink, porky pieces were nestled in gelatin and lightly dressed with mustard, studded with little cubes of sauteed mushrooms and served with two slices of toast. Normally the ratio of terrine to toast is way off, but Cafe Luc had just the right amount of terrine. I did feel the mushrooms added an unnecessary flavour and would have preferred some peppery greens to go with it, but not a big issue.

My main was the pavé of salmon with Puy Lentils à la française (grelots onion, bacon and parsley). To be honest, I didn’t enjoy this dish very much. The salmon was meltingly soft but it could have done with a crunchier crust – I wonder how they cooked it. The salmon was topped with a blanket of green powder which was quite salty, but the salmon itself didn’t seem to have much flavour other than, well, fish. If the herb topping fell off the salmon, it started tasting bland next to the lentils. Maybe I’m just used to my food being salty. Could be the Chinese in me. The moules frites from the Belgian set menu were much better; a gigantic dish of slippery mussels with a side of fries. That’s important. Fries, not chips.

Most of us ordered desserts, as they were included in the set menu. My bitter chocolate mousse with orange sauce was excellent, with the citrusy orange gel-like sauce lending the perfect injection of acidity into what would otherwise be a cloying dish. There were also little crunchy bits in there (almost like pieces of fried noodle that had been shattered, but probably more like pastry, ha) which added a nice surprise to the texture of the mousse.

Bizarrely, 8pm came and went and no one said a word about us having to leave the restaurant. It was almost 8:30 by the time we left – was the other group late? Was there even another group coming? Ah well, I shouldn’t complain, really! I was pretty pleased with my choice of Cafe Luc tonight as there were parents who came along as well, and it wasn’t too loud (sometimes I can barely hear a word in a gastropub) nor too fussy or expensive if you stuck to the set menu. I’m not sure I would pay the prices for the a la carte, but that’s not because I doubt their chefs’ cooking skills, only because I’m quite satisfied with the set menu which is much better value for money. The service was also very smooth and the atmosphere of the place was just right for the night. Would definitely come back again if I wanted to catch up with a friend over lunch or dinner. I believe they do afternoon tea and breakfasts, as well.

+: I liked their portion sizes. I didn’t leave feeling like a pregnant woman with triplets. But if your appetite is bigger than mine (and it is pretty impressive, if I do say so myself), the portion sizes might seem a bit paltry if you only order 2 courses from the a la carte.

-: Underwhelming salmon as my main course. Might just be a one-off experience though; everyone else seemed to enjoy their dishes.

Cafe Luc
50 Marylebone High Street