I Wanna Take You To A Wine Bar, Wine Bar

It's only mid July, but I feel like summer has been around forever already, and it's one of those summers that you look start to back on fondly even before it's over. It feels distinct as an era that kicked off with being Mabel and has sprawled into long laid back evenings of rosé and repartee. New friendships have been formed, and old ones cemented; I've soaked up the rays in Greece, India, Paris and Eastbourne, and even on the odd rainy day, I've had enough sunshine under my skin to see me through to the next blazingly good one.

Galvanised by this enduring feel-good factor, last night a gang of us took the train to Lewes, in search of a mini adventure and in celebration of several birthdays. We spent most of the evening in Symposium, a swish off licence-come-wine-bar, where you can sit and enjoy all sorts of hand-picked and unusual wines at retail price (plus corkage) and nibble on local cheeses and other treats. There's nothing like this place in Eastbourne, and I'd recommend it as a nice change from either pub or restaurant. The service and atmosphere were both excellent as we made our way through three distinctive bottles of red. After bottle two, I decided it would be a good idea to start vlogging, and this was the result...

If you enjoyed my boozy Lewes vlog, I've also made little films of my recent travels to Athens, The Peloponnese, Wales and Stockholm.

Discovering St Leonards-on-Sea

Although I grew up in Sussex and have spent many happy days pottering around Hastings Old Town and Bexhill seafront, until recently I had somehow avoided that elusive bit in between, St Leonards. I'd always assumed there was nothing much there to warrant a visit, then by chance we picked up a brochure from a Bexhill vintage market, promoting the supposed cultural delights of the neighbouring town.

One of the quirky things I love about that general part of the world is the hidden higgledy piggledy steps that weave up through the steep streets, bringing you out in unexpected locations. You'll come across similar ascending (or descending, depending on which end you start) passageways in Montmartre and San Francisco, but the East Sussex ones have a distinct flavour that somehow evokes Saxon adventure and smugglers' getaways. On a sunny Saturday in May we found one of these going up from St Leonard's seafront (next to the oldest motorbike shop in the country) and made our way in through the back streets, peering nosily into houses as we went.

The brochure recommended Norman Road and the 'Style Mile' as a place to find vintage and hand made clothes and home decor as well as good cafes, so we explored around there first and discovered a strip of interesting shops, that were pedalling everything from customised upcycled clothes to extortionately overpriced bits of old fairground rides. At the end of the strip, in the rather unimaginatively named 'Shop', we found retro trifle dishes, slinky summer dresses and a sprinkling of G-plan furniture, before crossing over spend a good half an hour rifling through vintage clothes at Xanadu.

Surely the ultimate test of a place is its tea and cake, and in this department we were spoilt for choice, with several decent looking eateries on offer. We chose Little Larder, next to Xanadu, to refresh after Ant's slightly traumatic experience of trying on an ill-fitting woollen suit on a hot summer's day (yes, we had some of those in May). The cake and coffee did the trick, and we bounced off to see what else St Leonards had to offer. Beyond Norman Road the attractions were fewer and farther between, as the arty vibe faded into rundown high street of tatty looking shops selling tatty old stuff. We did see a rather nice Art Deco wardrobe in the shabby (but not chic) flea market, but it was part of a set and they wouldn't let us buy it on its own. And so our St Leonards adventure drew to a close. 

A couple of weekends ago we returned in the evening to eat at the quite swish looking, and as it turns out, rather excellent St Clements restaurant, which is reason enough to venture to St Leonards, if my other accounts of the town have not been enough to entice you. It's one of those tucked away places that feels like a locals' secret, serving imaginative dishes at the more decadent end of Modern British cuisine. Although the vegetarian choice was limited, the elderflower and prosecco cocktails more than made up for it, as did the knee-tremblingly indulgent sticky toffee pudding for desert.

Sussex Gastro Pub Series: The Ginger Dog in Kemp Town, Brighton

On those rare Saturdays when we haven't got anything much on, Ant and I will usually find ourselves a-wandering down the hill to Kemp Town for a mooch - perhaps picking up a paper and grabbing a coffee in Spinelli's, indulging in a haircut and some people-watching at Barber Blacksheep, browsing the shelves of the Kemp Town Bookshop or picking up indulgent foodie supplies from Bona Foodie or Kemp Town Deli. More often than not, we'll end up still knocking about at lunch time and grabbing a meal at one of the many pubs or cafes in the village. 

On our last one of these perambulations a week or so ago, we discovered a new addition to the Kemp Town gastronomical circuit, which has popped up where the not-so-glamorous Wellington pub once was. The latest addition to the 'Gingerman' local restaurant chain (which includes the original Gingerman restaurant, The Ginger Pig and The Ginger Fox), The Ginger Dog is tucked away on College Place, sat between The Golden Cannon and (our favourite local) The Barley Mow on the Kemp Town pub trail. Having heard good things about the other Gingerman restaurants, we were chuffed to find one practically on our doorstep and decided to give it a try.

With its muted buff walls, rustic mis-matched chairs and funky artwork, the newly decorated interior certainly looked the part of a trendy gastro pub and the friendly staff were a vast improvement on the pub's previous incarnation. Not wanting to spoil our afternoon by being over-stuffed, and still having a big hill up which to scamper, we both decided on sticking to starters, along with an extra portion of chips (just in case). I had a goats cheese and baby onion gratin, which came with a slab of griddled bread (ciabatta I think) and a salad garnish, Ant went for the salmon tartare - something he'd never sampled before. Both of us were happy with our choices, which were nicely presented and beautifully cooked. The chips were the icing on the cake, perhaps the most perfect pub chips I've had - lightly crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, not too greasy - and a vast improvement on the awful ones we'd been served at the Open House the week before.

All in all it was a delightful, if rather indulgent, Saturday lunch and I'm looking forward to going back for the full three-course experience one evening before too long.

Sussex Gastro Pubs Series: The Lewes Snowdrop Reborn

Lately I've been trying to expand the circuit of pubs, cafes and restaurants that we frequent, rather than sticking to the same old places. There have been a few good discoveries this year, though I'm afraid we haven't branched out as much as I'd hoped. So last Sunday, in an attempt to broaden our horizons before the end of the year, we re-visited an old haunt that had gone gradually downhill in recent years but was reported to be back on form.

The Snowdrop in Lewes was a favourite back in my Sixth Form college days, when it was a bit of a crusty/biker/wicca hang-out, serving hearty vegetarian food and pints of Snakebite and black. I hadn't been for years until I started working down the Cliffe end of Lewes earlier this year and popped in to find it a shadow of its former self and barely able to scrape together a sandwich, let alone a decent Sunday lunch. I am delighted to say that this sorry situation has now been rectified by the pub's latest landlords, who have restored the place to its former glory - albeit with a few (pleasant) changes.

In place of the old bric-a-brac stage-set style decor, the inside of the Snowdrop now sports an array of homely canal boat style furnishings, while the exterior has been painted in a fetching shade of pale green. It is back to being a freehouse for the first time in ten years, serving an impressive range of local ales, Bavarian beers and posh ciders on tap, as well as a good selection of bottled booze.

But the most exciting development at the all-new Snowdrop is the all-new menu. The veggie roast I had there on Sunday was one of the best I've ever eaten at a pub - only my own home cooked roast would top it, and even then it would be a close thing. The nutroast was moist and flavoursome and packed with tasty ingredients like capers and sunflower seeds. There was a wide selection of veg including red cabbage, parsnips, peas, broccoli, roast potatoes and cauliflower, all cooked to perfection and packed with flavour. The only (very slight) criticism I could possibly raise was that I would have liked more of the delicious gravy - but then that is probably just me being greedy.

At most Sussex country pubs you'd wait at least half an hour, sometimes up to an hour, for Sunday lunch. Ours came in about ten minutes, even though the place was bustling. Unlike the previous landlords, the staff were friendly and chatty and justifiably proud of their efforts to transform the pub from seedy dive to cosy gastropub.

I'm looking forward to going back to the Snowdrop again for the C&M Christmas lunch next week, when hopefully I'll get to see what the upstairs looks like these days. Let's just pray that my colleagues behave themselves during the festivities, because I'd hate to get barred so soon after re-discovering this once again fabulous joint.

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

Where Shall We Go Today?

Ant and I have decided to try and be a bit more adventurous in our choices of places to eat, drink and socialise this year. We've got into the habit of frequenting the same old circuit of cafés and watering holes, and lovely though they are, I often feel as though we are missing out by limiting ourselves to these tried and trusted joints.

My new job, which I started on Wednesday, takes me to the opposite end of Lewes from where I was previously working, and dangerously close to one of my regular foodie haunts - the wonderful Bill's. But even more excitingly, right underneath my office is a little gem of a place that had until now evaded my lunchtime radar. Tucked away in the courtyard of Pastorale Antiques, Buttercup is a rustic cafe-bistro with a simple menu that changes daily, and a bountiful supply of mouth-watering cakes. The free Wi-Fi also makes it a perfect spot from which to work whilst enjoying a slice of home-made Battenberg and a pot of Earl Grey. As if the new job wasn't cool enough already, I am immediately endeared to my new surroundings by virtue of this discovery. In the words of Little Orphan Annie: "I think I'm gonna like it here".

On Saturday, we re-acquainted ourselves with an old hang-out from our Waterstone's days - the Pull & Pump in Brighton. Though many a post-work pint was sunk inside its cosy walls back then, neither of us had ever eaten in there before. A stone's throw from the dreaded Churchill Centre (which I only ever brave out of necessity), it is a veritable sanctuary of calm in comparison. Taking a well-earned break from the end-of-Sale madness (I was on a new work-clothes mission), and not wanting to go too far-afield, we ducked in for lunch. I chose vegeburger and chips (obviously), while Ant went for the Kedgeree; both were excellent. I can't understand why more people weren't doing the same - the place was half empty.

Falling back into old habits, and in the absence of further inspiration, on Sunday afternoon we popped to Middle Farm for refreshment after a walk around the Firle Estate, resolving to investigate new afternoon tea options for next weekend. Any suggestions?

Photo of Buttercup cafe courtesy of Mister Snappy on Flickr.

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.

Sussex Gastro Pubs Series: The George & Dragon at Burpham

The Sunday pub-walk is a longstanding tradition in the Stanfield family, and one that I have continued to observe into adulthood, despite no longer having the obligation of a dog to exercise. I'd thought we must have discovered every decent country watering hole in Sussex in the last however many years of weekend adventures, so it was a pleasant surprise to find somewhere new to fuel up at before braving the elements today. The George and Dragon at Burpham (pronounced at 'Burfam') is tucked away at the end of a long winding country cul-de-sac, right in the middle of a sweet little village. I guess it's what one would call a 'gastropub' - the focus being very much on the food, and with more of a chic restaurant feel than your usual rustic rural tavern. But it's still cosy and friendly, and amazingly buzzy despite being so far off the beaten track.

At around £15 for a main course, the food isn't cheap, but it's good. There was only one vegetarian option for each course, so I went for the soup of the day (onion & Gruyere) as a main course, while the others had roast beef and poached haddock, respectively. We were all impressed with the quality of ingredients, preparation and presentation of our choices and didn't resent paying a little more for something a cut above the usual Sunday roast. Having been so impressed with the mains, it would have seemed a crime not to sample the desserts, which all sounded so delicious that it was difficult to choose. I couldn't resist the 'dark chocolate brownie with homemade vanilla ice cream'; my companions picked 'orange and cinnamon bread and butter pudding' and 'raspberry panacotta' between them. The awed silence that accompanied the devouring of our puds (pictured above) was testament enough to their excellence, and by the end we were all quite blissfully replete.

Everyone was glad of the walk that followed - a circular route that took us out of the village via its Norman churchyard and up onto the ridge behind. Apart from an alarming number of animal corpses along the way, it was a lovely landscape, and you could see for miles from the up on the tops. But what had started out as a pleasantly mild afternoon suddenly turned into a miserable murky evening when a cloud of menacing mist descended, chasing us back into the village at an alarming rate. But it was worth it to see the dramatic sunset that ensued, and we were safely inside the car and on our way by the time it really came on to rain.

Today's itinerary was provided by our rather out-of-date edition of Pub Walks in West Sussex by Mike Power - a very useful guide to finding country pubs which have a decent walk nearby.

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.

In Need of Sustenance and Sleep

So, the mobile blogging thing didn't quite work out as planned. Due to jammed networks and patchy coverage at the festival, it took a while for messages to get through, and by Sunday I gave up trying and left my phone in a locker. The food wasn't as inspiring as I'd hoped anyway - consisting mostly of burger and noodle vans, there were no nice foodie tents to hang out in like at Green Man. The best meal I had all weekend (unless you count a smoothie as a meal) was a veggie curry on Sunday night, just before my (fantastic) final band of the festival. But more on Latitude musical highlights to follow - today's priority is to get myself a hearty lunch and catch up on some sleep before sitting down to edit all my photos and write something coherent about the weekend.

A Cup of Tea and a Cake

Whenever the other half and I are out shopping, it's an unspoken law that we have to stop for a cup of tea and a cake at some point along the way. If it takes too long to get to that point, it can quickly become a very vocal law on his part, and spoil the whole outing. So I try to make sure these essential sustenance stops are well-planned and slotted in at the appropriate interval. Favourite refuelling stations in Brighton include Puccino's, Bill's, Komedia, Moments, Wai Kika Moo Kau and of course the Sanctuary. In Lewes, the cosy Needlemakers is the best. When we're away on holiday, the pursuit of the perfect refreshment pitstop becomes an even more serious business, and can easily preoccupy our collective thoughts for the better part of a day.

This outstanding table of cakes (beautifully photographed by Ant) was discovered at Café BeanGoose (I know - brilliant name!) on Holy Island during a tour of the North East a couple of years ago. The beverage selection was just as abundant, making for one of the best cup-of-tea-and-a-cake episodes in our ongoing saga. At the very opposite side of the planet, Zippy's of Nelson (New Zealand) comes in a close second with its cool hippy vibe and artistically served coffees. The Haga area of Gothenburg in Sweden is the epitome of European café culture, awash with mellow little venues full of yummy mummies and their bright babies, it's where we first discovered that it is perfectly acceptable (if the Scandies do it, it must be ok) to have a cinnamon swirl and a bucket of tea for your lunch. A trip to Belgium wouldn't be complete without scoffing at least one lot of waffles a day, and the best we have encountered so far (I challege you not to salivate) were in a little backstreet, not very touristy, place in Bruges.

Outside of Europe (and some English-speaking ex-colonial countries), the tea and cake culture is harder to come by, though if you are prepared to experiment, there are some interesting variations around. A mug of steaming spiced chai accompanied by teeth-achingly sickly sweets on a beach in India can really raise the spirits, as does a cup of stimulating Brazilian maté tea with a slice of the wonderfully named bolo de rolo, or something equally soothing. But you can travel the world in search of the best cup-of-tea-and-a-cake combo, and find, like Dorothy before you, that there really is 'no place like home' to enjoy a freshly baked bun and a brew.

Ben Parker at the Blackboys Inn

Today we drove out to a country pub we'd never been to before - The Blackboys Inn, just the other side of Ringmer on the B2192. It's quite a quirky place, with lots of little nooks and crannies, and a couple of exterior barns/function rooms - one Moroccan-themed and the other painted bright red with wacky modern art on the walls. We ate our lunch in the main part of the pub, which is fairly traditionally decorated and cosy. The staff were evidently still recovering from a big wedding there the day before, and things were a little frantic behind the bar. I chose one of only two vegetarian options offered - a sweet potato and zucchini (or courgette) risotto. It was well presented, and looked promising, but turned out to be disappointingly bland. At £10.50, I would have expected something much more flavoursome and imaginative. Even more upsettingly, it was spiked with very finely chopped celery, the one vegetable I cannot abide. I thought I would give the puddings a go, in the hope that the kitchen might redeem itself, but after waiting for 15 minutes I decided to cancel my order.

We didn't want to miss the start of the gig for which we'd specifically come to this neck of the woods, which was being held in the barn (the red one), known as 'The Room', next door to the pub. We'd come to see Ben Parker (left), of Ben & Jason fame, who was doing an acoustic set as part of a monthly programme (called 'Second Sunday') at the venue. After a couple of excellent warm-up songs from the host, DrBoKarma, and his daughter, Ben started his set with an old Ben & Jason number - reducing both Ant and I to tears instantly. B&J's second album Emoticons was very much the soundtrack to the 'courting' era of our relationship, and hearing music from it evokes some deeply emotional memories for us. The rest of the show was a mixture of new solo material and other B&J stuff, all delivered with the same spine-tingling gusto that we've come to expect from this incredibly talented and charismatic musician. It was wonderful to see Ben on top form in such an intimate setting, and his breathtaking performance more than made up for the bad lunch beforehand. He also very kindly gave us a (now quite collectible) 7" single of 'Romeo & Juliet' after we told him that it was 'our song' - what a sweetie. Come back again soon please, Mr Parker.

For more info on Ben Parker, visit his myspace page: www.myspace.com/benparkermusic. And if you don't already own Emoticons, go and buy it now from Amazon - every record collection should have a copy.

Sussex Gastro Pubs Series: Lunch at the Thomas Kemp

What is now The Thomas Kemp in Kemp Town has been through several incarnations before becoming the civilised bar/restaurant it is today. I first remember it as the Burlington - a slightly seedy grunge bar, which was then bought by the now (thankfully) defunct Polar Bar chain - never quite right for the sophisticated surroundings of the village. We have no shortage of decent pubs, and several nice restaurants in Kemp Town, but The Thomas Kemp has filled a noticeable gap between the two. We rarely go there of an evening, though it does seem to have a fair few events going on. But it's a good lunch venue for when you fancy something a bit fancier than pub grub but not quite as posh as Blanch House. The ever-changing menu is imaginative and well executed, with plenty of vegetarian options on offer. Decorated with antique map wallpaper, it is light and airy, and you can even see the sea if you sit down the front end, which we did today.

I ordered the red pepper and sweet potato soup (pictured), which came with lovely hunks of freshly baked french bread. Also pictured here is Ant, tucking into his mackerel with chilli sauce, salad and rice - which I'm told was very good. We both treated ourselves to a beer, and sat reading the paper for a bit before popping across to Bona Foodie to pick up some cakes for afternoon tea later. I love wandering down to Kemp Town on a Saturday, because you can get most things you would need without all the hassle of ploughing through town, and you usually bump into some familiar friendly faces along the way. Today our lovely dentist was on the table next to us in the TK. He looks so much younger in his weekend clothes, it was quite perturbing!

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.

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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.

Sunday Lunch in Hanover

After Saturday's lack of foodie inspiration, it was with some relish that we tucked into our Sunday roasts at the Dover yesterday lunchtime. It's one of the few local pubs where vegetarians get a choice of two options - sausages or nut roast - and the food is consistently good. After having lugged it round for 24 hours, I decided to leave my camera at home, so this picture was taken on my dodgy cameraphone and doesn't really do justice to its subject. As well as a generous three sausages (nice vegetable ones, none of your rubbery fake-meat soya travesties here, thank goodness), there was a good selection of perfectly cooked veggies - peas, broccoli, potatoes (with skins off unfortunately), swede (mashed) and parsnips, plus the obligatory Yorkshire pud (which I can take or leave). Of course, the gravy is the best bit in any roast dinner, and also happens to be one of my own culinary specialities, so I can be quite critical of other people's. This gravy passed the test, not quite as thick and savoury as I would make it, but tasty nonetheless. Mine is a variation on a family recipe passed down to me by my mother, and in turn from her aunt. It uses wholemeal flour instead of cornflour, usually involves alcohol (red wine or beer can both work), either onions or garlic, and a rather bizarre secret ingredient that gives it a wonderful rich fruitiness. Try it, you'll be surprised.

Disappointing Grub in a Field

Going to music festivals inevitably involves buying one's food from various vans and eating it on the go between gigs. It's something I actually look forward to as part of the festival experience, especially at events like Green Man where the catering is above average and predominantly vegetarian. Last year I was particularly impressed by a Moroccan café tent which offered a brilliant selection of meze - one of my favourite types of meal. Yesterday we were at the first ever Mighty Boosh Festival at Hop Farm in Kent, which was fun, but not as exciting as we'd hoped. The food on offer was nothing to write home about either, as you can see from these not very inspiring Mexican wraps. And yes, that is a wig Ant is wearing - we were dressed as Future Sailors in homage to the Boosh. Although Ant would have me point out that he actually wore this exact ensemble to our Seasick party last year, before that episode ever even aired! Hopefully I'll have some more inspiring festival cuisine to write about when I come back from Latitude in a couple of weeks time, or maybe even while I'm there, if I can get my mobile to play nicely and let me blog from a field.

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.

Lunch at Bill's

The inevitable consequences of Wednesday night's boozy dinner at the Sanctuary put me in need of serious restoration by yesterday lunchtime, and the only rational choice here in Lewes was to head for the legendary Bill's. Any self-respecting Brighton foodie will be familiar with the branch in the North Laine, which is permanently rammed, and a good place for spotting minor (and sometimes major - Kylie was once sat on the table next to me) celebrities. The original café/deli in Lewes opened in 2001 and has recently extended to accommodate its ever-growing army of devotees. Unlike the tranquil Sanctuary, Bill's is a buzzy, bustly place, brilliant for over-hearing snippets of conversation between bonkers locals. I often treat myself to a lunchtime smoothie from there, and if Mum comes to meet me for lunch, that's where we'll invariably end up.

I knew in advance what I'd be ordering on this particular visit - I'd been craving it since breakfast - scrambled eggs on toast. Bill's scrambled eggs are superior to most (including mine) - billowing and creamy, scattered with vibrant fresh herbs (basil and tarragon on this occasion) and piled onto lightly toasted, generously buttered rustic white bread - they are the ultimate comfort food. Even the cute tomato-shaped ketchup dispenser adds to the experience. Whether or not I want dessert (I didn't this time), I always spend a decent amount of time gazing into the awe-inspiring Bill's cake cabinet, the contents of which would not be out of place in a gallery. Decorated with fresh flowers and colourful hunks of fruit, these delectable creations really are works of art. Even my mango and raspberry smoothie was adorned with a single red rose - a romantic gesture for the lone diner perhaps? I'd like to think so.

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