A Sussex Country Pub Rediscovered (and Other Culinary Adventures)

It's not unusual for my weekends to revolve entirely around food - i.e. the shopping, planning, cooking and eating of it - but this last one was a particularly gloriously gastronomic few days that warrants a special mention. It all started on Friday evening with a homemade Bill's-inspired salad supper - basically lots of little taster salads piled onto a plate like a chaotic leafy mezze. The different salads I conjured up included: carrot, ginger and sultana; baby spinach, pesto and feta; mini roast potatoes & mayo; blanched cauliflower in a mustard dressing and a handful of stuffed olives. This went down very well with Him Indoors in spite of its healthy nature (he has a Homer Simpson approach to food) and set the tone for the rest of the weekend.

On Saturday, after a visit to Hove Museum, we had lunch at our old favourite the Sanctuary, where I indulged in the marginally less virtuous but arguably still quite healthy nutburger and potato wedges, while Ant was very restrained and had the soup (Sweet Potato I think). Then in the evening, we met up with Steph and Russ, who'd booked us into Bodega for a Tapas dinner. This was somewhere new for us, and made a change from the excellent but always manically busy Casa Don Carlos. The size of a postage stamp and decorated with kitsch bunches of grapes and Spanish memorabilia, this very authentic feeling rustic joint offers equally bona fide homely fayre from which I chose pisto manchego, artichoke salad and olives. It was all very delicious and amazingly good value, especially the house red wine which went down a treat.

After Saturday's free-flowing Rioja and the ensuing cocktails at In Vino Veritas, we were both in need of some hangover-busting sustenance on Sunday. Pub roast called, and the sun was shining, so we ventured out into the country to make the most of both. Our first stop - the famously epicurean Ram at Firle - was absolutely heaving with not a parking space in sight, so we swung across the other side of the A27 to the Lamb at Ripe. The last time we'd been there was for a family birthday celebration five or more years ago, and at the time we were less than impressed. Though I can't remember exactly why it was bad, I seem to recall there being an incident involving Ant and a disappointing fish pie - never a good combination. Well clearly the place is either in new hands these days, or has cleaned up its act, as it turned out to be one of the best Sunday lunches I've had in ages.

The Lamb is a in a lovely spot - right in the middle of the tiny twee village of Ripe and far enough away from the A27 for it to be nice and tranquil in the spacious beer garden out back. Inside it's also pretty roomy, and was amazingly quiet compared to other nearby hostelries like The Ram or the Cricketers, which are invariably packed out at weekends. There was no veggie roast on the board, but the very accommodating and friendly staff were only too happy to knock one up for me - combining the stuffed mushroom starter with the veggies from the roast (carrots, potatoes, swede and red cabbage) - all beautifully presented, and cooked to perfection. Ant had the homemade burger which was apparently also top notch - I can certainly vouch for the accompanying chips. I don't know how long we've been missing out on this now excellent establishment, but I shall certainly be making a point of going back there again soon, and would encourage anyone in the market for a country pub lunch in Sussex to give it a whirl. There's even a nice easy circular walk out the back of the village, ideal for working off the generous portions.

Our weekend culinary spectacular concluded at home with one of my thrown-together pasta dishes (sun dried tomatoes, feta, spinach, broad beans), which I am told was the pièce de ré·sis·tance; I couldn't possibly comment of course.

Links
Google map of my favourite places to eat in Sussex
Country Pub Rant - another pub-related post by me
Sussex Pub Links

Growing Old Disgracefully

Saturday night at Bom-Bane's. A celebratory birthday dinner for Ant with 13 of his favourite people (including me). Good friends, hearty food, fancy Belgian beer and cheeky cocktails abound. Led by the performing proprietor and her talented band of waiting staff, we belt out Christmas carols (with descants) between courses. Banter and crackers and silly hats all merry the mood. For reasons unknown, two of our assembled engage in a friendly arm wrestle. "Put your hand in mine" says one; "Don't ever let go-o-o" comes the spontaneous retort from a spectator across the table. "Let the world around us just fall apaaaart" croons another, and as if it had been rehearsed, a word-perfect group rendition of the 80s classic 'Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now' ensues (with gusto). Sometimes our weekends just go that way.

A Candlelit Dinner for Two

Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of my 18th birthday, and as a special treat I'd asked Ant to take me out to dinner, just the two of us, at a surprise venue. I genuinely didn't have a clue as to where we were going until he lead the way off the pavement of Marine Parade into the Drakes hotel driveway. A very subtle little sign revealed that we were headed for The Gingerman restaurant, which resides in the basement of the hotel. Gingerman is a local chain of four that started with one restaurant on Norfolk Square and now includes two gastro pubs - The Ginger Pig in Hove and The Ginger Fox in Albourne, as well as this branch in one of Brighton's swishest boutique hotels. I hadn't been expecting anything so posh, so was glad I'd worn a frock rather that jeans (I'd been told 'smart casual', so it could have gone either way).

When we arrived it was fairly quiet in the elegant-yet-cosy basement - the staff were friendly and attentive, and remained so even when the restaurant filled up later on. From an extensive wine list I picked a white Rioja - described as being 'toasty on the nose with citrus undertones' - which went down very well. We were brought a bowl of juicy green olives to keep us going, as well as appetisers in the form of a little fried cheeseball and shot glass of chive-flavoured froth (just don't think about cats and grass when you're eating it) delivered on a slate coaster. I chose wild mushroom ravioli with mushroom broth to start, followed by spinach and crotin pithivier with white onion puree, spinach and a cep veloute. I didn't know what a pithivier was, and was expecting something fancy, but it turned out to be basically a little pie filled with goats cheese. The combination of pungent Crotin cheese and crumbly puff pastry was lovely, but I craved something clean-tasting to cut through the tanginess of the cheese - green beans or fresh salad leaves might have worked better than wilted spinach. But aside from these minor gripes, it was a delightful meal.

Ant seemed more than happy with his choices (venison, followed by fish), and the modest portions meant that we both had plenty of room for dessert. Soufflé is something I have so far failed to conquer in my own kitchen (they either collapse or go inedibly solid), so I decided to try someone else's to get an idea of how it should turn out. I'm not sure if I've ever actually eaten one before, and imagined it to be something light and fluffy - somewhere between a mousse and a sponge perhaps. What arrived was more like a soggy yorkshire pudding, with a faint taste of blackberry. I wasn't keen, so after a few mouthfuls, salvaged the remaining ice cream from the middle (where it had been placed by the very enthusiastic waitress), and let Ant finish it for me. It's not that it was a bad soufflé (apparently), I have just decided that I don't actually like soufflé after all - the perfect excuse to abandon any further attempts to conjour one myself. Phew.

As you can see from the above picture, my dessert plate was inscribed with 'Happy BIRTHDAY' (aw, shucks) in chocolate. Since my special day was drawing to a close, I thought it only appropriate to devour the 'BIRTHDAY' bit, leaving only 'Happy' on the empty plate. Which is exactly how I felt after a lovely indulgent meal out with my husband. After dinner we wandered across the road to the pier, where Ant had promised to serenade me with the karaoke song of my choice at the notorious Horatio's bar. Sadly (for me anyway), the pier was shut already, so I had to make do with a round or two of Singstar back at the flat instead. My work colleagues had bought me the 'Anthems' edition for my birthday, so I finished off my celebrations belting out 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' (neighbours be damned!) - the perfect end to a delightful evening.

Top Ten Brighton Eateries

Yesterday was very much a wash out in terms of interesting food to write about. Surely no one wants to hear about my weetabix (do they?), and the rest of the day was spent grazing on fruit and other healthy snacks (including pitta bread with a very tasty Moroccan paté), none of it really worthy of extended exploration. So instead, here is a post that I've been meaning to write for ages - my top ten favourite places to eat in Brighton & Hove (not including pubs, because I already covered those here), based on a combination of ambience, nostalgia and food quality, and in no particular order...

Terre à Terre, East Street, Brighton
A bit of an obvious choice from me, the discerning vegetarian foodie, yet this place is first on the list for that very reason. Sometimes a little too arch for its own good (mushroom sorbet anyone? Thought not), Terre à Terre is nevertheless an institution among veggies and carnivores alike. Imaginatively conceived and decadently executed cuisine is served up by quirky waiters in a vibrant setting, invariably populated by fellow yuppies/DINKYS/foodies. 'Living the cliché' I like to call it. Back in the days when we'd both only just got 'proper jobs' and being part of this set was still a novelty, we'd go there fairly frequently. On one occasion Ant ordered two puddings (because he couldn't decide) and was up all night clutching his sides as a result. But he still claims it was worth it. I took my friend Harriet for lunch there on her first ever trip to Brighton last year, hoping to give her a good first impression of my town by showing off its foodie credentials. She moved here shortly afterwards, so I'd say it worked.

El Mexicano, New Road, Brighton
Definitely a good option for a big group or birthday dinner, you can always enjoy a cocktail at Bar Valentino upstairs while you are waiting for a table. I had my 27th birthday there, when the upstairs was still a part of the restaurant, and this is what happened after several jugs of Margaritas. It's also a good bet for pre-theatre sustenance, being right next door to the Theatre Royal and opposite the Dome complex. As well as the obvious Mexican, they do a pretty decent tapas menu, and best of all, jugs of lovely fruity Sangria (I try and steer clear of Margaritas after that sombrero incident) to wash it all down with.

Food For Friends, Prince Albert Street, Brighton
Having made a conscious shift from 'knit your own muesli' healthfood café to modern eclectic veggie restaurant over the past few years, Food for Friends pitches itself as an alternative to Terre à Terre (with prices to match), but doesn't quite make the grade. I still really like eating there though, because I can have anything on the menu rather than just those marked with a 'v'. I've had some lovely meals, usually lunches, at Food for Friends, but the last time we went for dinner, I was disappointed. It was a real case of style over substance, and although it looked pretty (something involving aubergines I seem to remember), I couldn't help feeling I could have done a better job at home. Still, this might have been an off-day for the chef, so I'm optimistically keeping it in the Top Ten list.

La Tapa de Oro, Western Road, Hove
The scene of several spontaneous late night snack-attacks among the old Brunswick crew (back when it was still called Ipanema), there's nowhere better to make you feel like you're on holiday than this jolly tapas joint. The owner/maitre'd is a rumbustious Spaniard who will regale you with tales of home and merrily chastise anyone who makes the mistake of calling chorizo a sausage. It may not be as trendy as the popular Casa Don Carlos, but I've never had a bad meal there, and it's worth going for the fiesta atmosphere alone.

Wai Kika Moo Kau, Kensington Gardens, Brighton
Another vegetarian haven, and top people-watching spot (if you sit outside), we nearly always end up here during any kind of shopping expedition in the North Laine. Be sure not to sit by the counter if you are feeling at all fragile, or you may be subject to the shrill whizzing of the much-used smoothie blender, as my other half discovered last week. On our last visit I ordered grilled haloumi with sweet potato chips, salad and spicy sauce, which is pretty typical of the fayre.

Bom Bane's, George Street, Brighton
I only recently blogged about this place, after seeing 'Bom Bane's the Musical', so if you want to know more, go read the post.

Blind Lemon Alley, Middle Street, Brighton
Way before the Gourmet Burger Kitchen ever appeared with its fancypants burgers, there was Blind Lemon Alley. Tucked away, in funnily enough, an alley in the Lanes, the burgers here are arguably the best in Brighton, or so I'm told by one who professes to be a connoisseur. The homemade lentil-based vegeburgers (with a choice of exciting toppings) are pretty damn good too, as is the rest of the Tex-Mex style menu. Gourmet cuisine it ain't, but if it's stodgy comfort food you're after, you've come to the right place. Perfect for hangovers and those days when you just want to stick two fingers up at the waistline and gleefully stuff your face.

The Sanctuary, Brunswick Street East, Hove
Again the subject of a recent post, I won't bore you by repeating myself. If you missed that one, here it is.

Home, Egremont Place, Brighton
Once the closest thing to a greasy spoon we had in our neck of the woods, Home has recently transformed (from Cafe 32, and before that, Bennett's) into a rather swanky deli/cafe, a bit like a mini Bill's. As well as all-day breakfasts and excellent coffee, they offer a variety of Mediterranean-ish dishes - frittatas, roasted veg salads and the like, as well as an impressive selection of hearty home-made cakes. It's a good place to meet friends with sprogs, as little ones are well-catered for with crayons, high chairs and a big jar of sweeties to keep them quiet. And it's right opposite the entrance to the park, so you can always take them for a quick go on the swings if it all gets too much.

The Tin Drum, St James's Street, Brighton
Possibly the first place to bring Polish cuisine to the masses here in Brighton, when it opened its first bar/restaurant in Seven Dials back in 1998, The Tin Drum now has four branches dotted across town. My favourite one, and the closest to home, is on bustly St James's Street - a shining beacon of elegance amongst the throng of seedy gay bars and fetish shops. For a quick bar snack, try the signature Polish tapas, or 'zakuski' plate, which is actually remarkably similar to what I consider to be meze - feta, olives, humous etc. More substantial main dishes on offer include tagines, terrines, tians and risottos, all beautifully presented in generous portions. Fellow pudding people need only take a peek at this delectable cheesecake that I had last time, to need no further persuasion. For everyone else, the outstanding cocktail list should swing it.

****

Startlingly absent from this list is anywhere vaguely Eastern Mediterranean or North African in flavour, especially considering that meze is possibly my favourite type of cuisine. We used to like Nou Nou in Kemp Town before it stopped being Moroccan and changed into a second branch of La Fourchette (under the same management); such a shame. I went once with my commuter buddies to the Blue Man restaurant when it was on Edward Street (it's recently moved to the old Momma Cherrie's - which now occupies what was The Strand), but apart from the bring-your-own booze policy, wasn't overly impressed. Even the legendary Lebanese takeaway Kambi's has lately gone downhill. Recommendations please.

And finally, my favourite Brighton restaurants, gone but not forgotten...

Troggs
Oh how I miss this place. It used to be the best vegetarian restaurant in Brighton - better, and less pretentious, than Terre à Terre. But it died a death after moving from the seafront to what is now Bom Bane's on the relatively remote George Street. I sincerely hope that Bom Bane's doesn't go the same way, although they seem to be doing a pretty good job of pulling in the punters, what with all the musical jollity and intriguing gadgetry going on.

The Strand
The setting for many a romantic meal, including our wedding day lunch, I was sad to find out recently that this lovely venue had closed down. After the demise of Troggs, The Strand was undoubtedly my favourite restaurant in Brighton. I loved the mismatched rustic furniture and beach hut feel to the decor, and the food, although not exclusively vegetarian, was consistently outstanding. I've no idea why it went, but anniversaries just won't be the same without it.

Pre Gig Burgers

The perfect pre-gig rocket fuel, from the Gourmet Burger Kitchen next door to Komedia, this was not actually a burger, but a slice of deep-fried goats' cheese layered with gushy griddled aubergine and tart sunblush tomatoes. The chips in the background (shared between the two of us) were cooked to perfection - golden and crispy on the outside, light and fluffy on the inside. As fast food chains go, this place is to MacDonalds what Pizza Express is to Pizza Hut - not exactly challenging cuisine, but comfortingly consistent. The Brighton branch is a great people-watching spot too, especially if you go on a night where something whacky is happening at Komedia, like last night's Born Bad vs Gypsy Hotel extravaganza.

The North Laine is teetering on the edge of night time café culture, which even in such busy thoroughfares as New Road we don't quite get right here in Brighton (perhaps beery leeriness is just part of British DNA). This particular Friday was better than most though, as an exotic blend of retro style icons, rockabilly vixens and the most preened quiffs on the south coast mingled before the Komedia soireé. Even in my slinky vintage-style halterneck (bought especially for the occasion), I felt comparatively under-dressed. How perversely fitting to be eating sophisticated burgers surrounded by people who have taken base Americana and turned it into a high art form. Well, what better way to observe the 4th of July than to gracefully hijack US culture and smugly improve upon it?

With thanks to Ant for his contribution to this post.

Girlie Dinner at the Sanctuary

In my opinion there are few better places to go for a decent hangover brunch in Brighton than the hippy institution that is the Sanctuary café . It used to be a regular haunt of mine when I lived just around the corner on Bedford Place, and would oft stagger round on a Sunday morning (ok, probably more like early afternoon) for a rejuvenating, body and soul repairing feast. Merely contemplating the brimming counter of vibrantly eccentric salads and hearty cakes is enough to soothe even the most jaded of souls. And though I'm not a coffee drinker myself, I have it on good authority that their mochas are among the best in town. The staff always seem to be in a worse state than you are, which is a comfort, and there is invariably some gentle music playing at an acceptable level. Apart from the odd grizzly baby (why can't they be confined to the downstairs, dammit?), there is a pervading atmosphere of calm, making the venue most deserving of its name. Having moved to the other side of Brighton a couple of years ago, I don't get down to the Sanctuary so much these days, and when I do it tends to be for Saturday lunch, or like last night, the occasional weeknight supper.

Pictured here is actually one of my companions' dinners - warm salad with sweet potato, aubergine, mushroom, goats' cheese and asparagus. Blinded by my inner food monster, I stupidly demolished mine (the same dish) before remembering that I needed to photograph it. Luckily Harry had been more delicate with hers and so I was able to capture the beautifully presented concoction in all its glory. The brilliant combination of sticky sweet potato and smooth, tangy goats' cheese was nicely complemented by that subtly verdant flavour of braised asparagus, and a generous drizzle of lurid strawberry and balsamic dressing gave the whole thing a zingy, summery kick.

I had fully intended to follow this rather virtuous main with one of the many inviting desserts on offer (the cheesecake looked particularly appealing, though I think I would have had to fight Jo for the last remaining slice), but the main course was more filling than it sounds, especially when washed down with half a bottle of organic wine. So instead of pudding, we popped down the road to my old local, the Lion & Lobster, for a nostalgic nightcap (or two). While we were settling up at the Sanctuary, I was slightly perturbed to notice that the sweet selection included several jars of cookies imported from Australia, which rather contradicts their mission statement of "Healthy hearty food prepared with mainly organic, locally sourced ingredients" (quote taken from their website). Surely there must be perfectly adequate biscuit suppliers a little closer to home? And what kind of preservatives must be in those cookies that they can survive travelling across the planet? It's madness I tell you! But apart from this one slight gripe, the Sanctuary was just as lovely as always, and if anything I'd say the quality and presentation of the food has improved slightly. Now, if only they'd open a branch in Kemp Town.

Singing for Your Supper

Going to Bom-Bane's The Musical was a bit like taking a step back through time into my 70s childhood. My early years were punctuated by those slightly surreal, often quite musical television programmes like Bagpuss, Rainbow and that one with Christopher Lillicrap, the name of which I can never remember (someone enlighten me, please!) - not to mention a family life in which bursting into song was a daily occurrence, as normal as brushing your teeth. So having my Friday night meal narrated by singing minstrels somehow seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

From the moment we arrived through the doors of the teeny Bom Bane's cafe on George Street on Friday night, we were warmly received into the eccentric Bom-Bane family. Each of the upstairs tables has some kind of gadget that livens up your mealtime - ours was a motor that made the table go up and down randomly during the meal. Soon the place was buzzing with diners, all eagerly awaiting the evening's entertainment - which began with a welcoming song for which we were led downstairs by Nick Pynn's bewitching fiddle-playing.

The rest of the meal was interspersed with songs from other staff members, including the hostess, Jane Bom-Bane herself. Each humorous ditty related to the food or the venue in some way, enhancing the whole experience wonderfully, and breaking the ice between diners. For such a tiny venue, they managed to pack in an extraordinary array of instruments, including two harmoniums and a theramin. The food itself was hearty and unpretentious, starting with a selection of tasty dips with rustic bread, followed by Sausages and Stoemp (a type of mash) and concluding with the Bom-Bane's signature pudding - chocowafflettes, with a lovely fresh fruit salad. The finale number was a very Bagpuss-esque tribute to Bom-Bane's The Hat - a model of the cafe, complete with motorised penguins representing the staff (!) and sported by a very deadpan Jane Bom-Bane.

While we were sat polishing off our second bottle of (delicious organic) wine afterwards, I kept thinking of people who would have loved the evening as much as me, so I have decided to try and organise a private performance for my birthday in September. The next public shows are on Thurs June 12th, Sat June 28th, Thurs July 17th and Sat July 26th - get yourself a ticket here.

Complete photoset on flickr at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rowstar/sets/72157605400579755

Bad Tapas

After so much hardcore partying over the festive season, I was quite relieved when Jo decided to opt for the more civilised option of a sit down meal for her birthday celebrations at the weekend. Her first choice - the wonderfully rustic Casa Don Carlos in the Lanes - was fully booked, so she’d taken a chance on Pinxto People, a swish-looking upmarket tapas place on Western Road. Intrigued by its modern take on traditional Spanish food, and impressed with the stylish décor, we were keen to sample the fayre. Sadly it seemed that the staff were not so eager to satisfy our expectations, and were officious to the point of rudeness from the outset. Challenging our ability to choose our own dishes and trying to pressure us into accepting their own selection (at a suggested £40 a head) our waiter immediately put our collective backs up – perhaps not realising what a feisty bunch of discerning foodies he was dealing with. His second mistake was in withholding our wine until seeing fit to refill our glasses – a situation we soon rectified in an amusing covert operation that involved whisking the bottle from a neighbouring table when no one was looking, and stashing it under the table. All very entertaining, but not necessarily what one would expect to occur during a supposedly slap-up meal. When our food finally arrived, there was a general disbelief at the size of portions, bearing in mind that most of the meat dishes came in at around £12.

Style over substance

My veggie options were limited (admittedly more so by my ongoing dental problems), and my chosen ‘Txick (get it?) peas and fake txorizo (groan) with goat cheese’ resembled nothing more than a tin of chick peas poured onto a plate and vaguely seasoned, with a tiny blob of cheese at each corner - and tasted just as disappointing. The others were generally unimpressed with their meat and fish choices, which were on the whole a classic case of style over substance. I am not against the idea of experimental cuisine in principle, but it can be tricky to pull off, especially with something as traditionally comforting as tapas. Give me the rustic dishes and cheerful staff at Casa Don Carlos or La Tapa De Oro (previously Ipanema) any day. Minimalist tapas just doesn’t work. Post dinner cocktails at Koba across the road helped raise everyone’s spirits after such an unsatisfactory dining experience, and the company at least was consistently excellent all night.