Street Food in London - Hot Dogs, Tacos & Meatballs

The street food scene is kicking off with fervour. Gone are the days of dodgy hot dog carts wafting of fried onions selling their questionable fare to pissed up Londoners swaying towards night buses. Instead, tacos, hot dogs, burgers, noodle soups, paella, bits of offal and much more are on offer.

Petra Barran of Choc Star fame has headed up a collective, under the name of Eat.St and they now have a permanent residency in Kings Cross. Open Wednesdays to Fridays, 4 to 6 traders a day, 10am - 4pm every week, I snuck in a visit while in the area.

The Rib Man's £5 rib sandwich consists of baby back ribs slow smoked and roasted. The meat is then shredded off the bone and shoved into a white bap, for you to adorn with whichever sauce takes your fancy. I went with a fruity, Scotch-bonnety firebomb called 'holy fuck hot sauce'. Sweet Jesus this sandwich is good.

On the same lunchtime I had a Junior dog from Big Apple Hot Dogs; for £2.50 this was quite a bargain. The sausage had that great crunchy skin, the kind that snaps between the teeth as you bite into it. Polish mustard and sauerkraut complemented it nicely; now I know why people rave about them. I also love their 'no brains, no bones, no butts' line on their website. I'm going for the Big Frank next time.

Buen Provecho are also part of Eat.St but my only visit was when they were outside The Rye pub, now closed for refurbishment, in Peckham. I am a bit wary of tacos as I don't like corn tortillas much - look, they just taste a bit muddy, ok? - but Buen Provecho's were different to any other I've had. The tortilla is nicely toasted; crisp in places, soft in others. Soft, silky meat topped with crunchy salads and salsas, I haven't had any better. (Photo courtesy of Cheese & Biscuits.)

My most recent visit was to Luca Italian Meatballs in Ridley Road Market. Not yet part of Eat.St but brought to my attention by Sandwichist, as soon as I saw that article I had to have it.

Ridley Road Market isn't a pretty one. Proper East End stuff with ferocious elderly ladies elbowing you out of the way for the best veg-in-a-bowl-for-a-paaaahnd, I had my ankles rammed several times by wheelie shopping trollies. I traversed the length of the market before I found my bounty; as soon as I saw that the meatballs were on offer with polenta, memories of the sandwich flew out of my mind. I love polenta.

For £4 you get three meatballs (meat or veggie), a carpet of polenta and a choice of sauces which I was told you could mix. I went for a spicy tomato sauce and a creamy mushroom sauce, which was then topped with little tiny asparagus and black olives, as well as a tangle of peppery rocket (I had eaten most of it by the time I took the above pic).

The meatballs were great too; fluffy inside and spiked with cheese. This was utterly delicious; total comfort food on a slate-grey blustery day. Available Thurs - Saturday lunchtimes.

I'm looking forward to eating my way round London's streets; Anna Mae's Southern Street Food , Kimchi Cult and Tongue N' Cheek are high on my list.

Smoked Pork with Black Beans & Roasted Salsa

When I first saw the hickory smoked wings over on Food Stories I knew I had to get in on that action. Straight onto Ebay and a box of hickory chips, suitable for stovetop rather than barbecues, went straight into my virtual basket and I sped through checkout. My reasoning was that I couldn't be arsed with lighting a barbecue each time I wanted a smoke so this option seemed easiest.



Except it's not really. As I type this, my hair, clothes, carpets and furniture all honk like a bonfire. My housemate will wonder if I took part in some ritualistic effigy-burning when she gets home. Not that I do that a lot, mind.



The results, though, are pretty special. In choosing my cut of pork, I went for a shoulder cut. My initial thoughts were to do belly to then make pulled pork but rather the shredded softness that brings, I rather fancied something with more bite, something to get your teeth working. The pork was marinaded over night in a chilli paste, then slowly roasted and finished off with a smoking. Each slice had a hint of chilli, smokiness flavouring the fat; I forgot momentarily about my just-washed, now stinky hair.



To accompany the pork, rather addictive black beans and a roasted tomato salsa, adapted from Thomasina Miers' 'Mexican Food Made Simple'. I'm not finding it easy to find very ripe tomatoes, so blistering them deepens their flavour.



Roasted Tomato Salsa



7 tomatoes, as ripe as you can find them

3 large red chillis

3 cloves of garlic, skin on

2 spring onions

Juice of half a lime

A pinch of sugar

A large pinch of salt and pepper

Small handful of coriander



In a dry non-stick pan, add the tomatoes first. Dry-roast for a few minutes, then add the chillis in. You're aiming for blackened skins so keep turning them. Add the spring onions and garlic. It'll take about 15 minutes for this. Leave to cool. Once cooled, peel the garlic and pound in a pestle and mortar with salt. Take the tomatoes and squeeze them gently over the sink so that the seeds all fall out, as you don't want it too watery. If you have a thing about skin then remove it; I rather like it so I leave it in. Chop roughly and pound in the pestle and mortar. Repeat with chillis. Slice the spring onions finely. Combine in a bowl with the lime juice, the sugar and stir the coriander in.



Smoked Pork



Serves 2



500gr shoulder of pork

A mixture of dried chillis; I used mulato, habenero and cascabel (bought here)

1 onion

4 cloves of garlic

2 tsp sugar

1 tsp salt

200mls orange juice

A handful of hickory or oak wood chips



Soak the chillis in boiling water until softened. Remove the seeds and blitz with the onion, sugar, garlic and salt. Rub on the flesh of the pork and marinade overnight. Bring up to room temperature and place in a baking tray with the orange juice. Cover loosely with foil and roast on 140 degrees C for 2 hours and remove. Simmer down the juices and add to the black beans while they're cooking (recipe here). Serve with a toasted tortilla, or some rice.



I wouldn't recommend you smoking in your kitchen, but if you have better ventilation or you don't mind stinking of smoke, then line your pot with foil, add a handful of wood chips and drizzle with a bit of water. Put your pork in a heatproof bowl and place it within (I used a metal steamer) and heat gently for 30 - 35 minutes. Everything will be covered in an orange-ish goo so wash it immediately, and it's likely your pot will be slightly discoloured. Or, you know, use your barbecue. OUTSIDE.

A Mexican-Style Brunch

Lately I've been somewhat addicted to eggy brunches. Fried potatoes topped with a poached egg, flecks of chorizo littering the plate and staining the potatoes often feature. Other times it will be a mildly spiced kedgeree with a fried egg, it's yolk spilling itself, coating rice grains.

A favourite is a spicy Mexican-style brunch. Spicy tomato sauce (which, I'll confess is more often than not a leftover pasta sauce tarted up with a bit of hot smoked paprika) softens toasted corn tortillas, while creamy smoky black beans tempered the palate. A zingy guacamole was, in hindsight, an element too far. Surprisingly, it was the black beans that stole the show so here they are.

Refried Beans

Serves 2

390gr cooked black beans with the water (I used Sainsburys Organic tetrapak)
1 tsp chopped thyme
2 rashers of smoked streaky bacon
1 tsp chopped stalks of coriander
1 small white onion
3 cloves of garlic
1 chipotle chilli, or chipotle chilli flakes
1/2 tsp salt
Coriander and a wedge of lime, to garnish

In a saucepan with a little oil, add the bacon rashers, chopped finely. Fry until the fat is released and the meat takes on some colour. Dice the onion and mince the garlic and fry slowly until softened. Add the thyme and coriander stalks. Meanwhile, add the chipotle chilli flakes, or soften the chipotle chilli in hot water - if the latter, whizz in a processor and add to the pan. Add the beans with the water in the pack and then add the salt. Simmer for 40 minutes, adding more water if they're a little dry. Stir it often - it has the tendency to stick to the bottom of the pan very easily. Take off the heat and garnish with a little chopped coriander and a wedge of lime.

It freezes well in individual portions to whip out of the freezer for a quick brunch.

Barbequed Prawns

I think I'm on barbeque number 7 of the year already. We definitely like to grill our food; not many weekends have gone by recently that I haven't gone home reeking of smoke.

It can be a little tricky after a while to think of something imaginative to take. I don't really go in for the whole burger and sausage affair, preferring more exotic concoctions, like grilled pineapple salsa or stuffed squid. I stood staring blankly in the aisles of the supermarket before it dawned on me; some skewered prawns would be perfect. I abandoned the place and scored myself a kilo of prawns for a tenner down the local Chinese supermarket.

I made two different marinades, both very different. The first consisted mainly of chipotle en adobo (recipe here) but with an added onion, more garlic and a couple handfuls of dill. The dill seemed an odd choice but it gave the prawns a nice grassy and citrus flavour. You must eat them messily with your hands and a roll of kitchen paper, as it's the shell with the majority of the flavours that you lick off your fingers.

Chipotle Prawns

500gr prawns, shell and head on
4 tbsp chipotle en adobo
1 white onion
3 cloves of garlic
1 tsp salt
A large handful of dill

Set the prawns aside in a large bowl and whizz up all the ingredients for the sauce. Mix together with the prawns and leave overnight or for as long as you can - I did 3 hours and it was fine. Skewer onto wooden kebab sticks that have been soaked in water for an hour or so, and barbeque - they only need as long as they turn pink.

The second load were far more Thai-inspired. A combination of lime, fish sauce, fiery chillis and coriander ensured they packed a punch.

Thai-style Prawns

500gr prawns
5 cloves of garlic
3" of ginger
4 tbsp fish sauce
1 onion
2 handfuls of coriander
2 limes
1 tbsp sugar
4 red birds eye chillis

Whizz up the fish sauce with the ginger, onion, garlic, chillis and sugar. Squeeze in the lime juice and then whizz again with the coriander. Coat the prawns in the marinade for a good 3 hours, then skewer and barbeque.

Wahaca, Soho

I've long been a hater of sweet potato. They are vile things; floury in texture, overtly sweet in flavour. My eyes widened in fear when Thomasina Miers, of Wahaca and Masterchef fame, ordered us a portion when we visited the new Soho-located branch during its soft launch*.

When they arrived though, they glistened with oil and were generously flicked with salt and coriander. I ppped a chunk in my mouth and... it was nice. It was actually nice. I ate at least three. Baby steps, but steps nonetheless.

The new place is on the former site of The Slug and Lettuce, a soulless space of a pub where I've endured many leaving parties. In its new guise, it's airy and colourful, and even has a downstairs tequila bar. I have no doubt it will be just as popular as its original Covent Garden branch, which often has queues snaking out of the door. We kicked off with a hibiscus margarita; fine enough, but far tastier was the tamarind version. Nice and sour, with an edge of spicy sugar garnishing the glass.

Tamales are made with masa harina, traditionally bound into a dough with lard, and then steamed or boiled in corn husks or banana leaves. After we'd released the tamale from it's corn husk sleeve we were instructed to drench it with the accompanying mole sauce; this was no glossy monstrosity of a sauce sickly decorating a shoe-like tortilla, oh no - this sauce was smoky, complex and sweet, enveloping the soft pillowy tamale nicely.

Mackerel tostadas were startlingly cold but none the worse for it. Served atop crisp corn discs, the fish was fresh, the dressing spiked with lime.

Pork torta was a toasted white bun, piled with pork pibil on one side and guacamole with shredded leaves and onions on the other. We slopped the two together messily for the ultimate sandwich. They'd do well to work out a way to get this to take away; the Soho media types would be all over this like a rash.

We finished up with a few desserts, the best of all being the churros with hot chocolate. The batter was slightly salty which worked brilliantly well dusted with the cinnamon and dunked in the sweet sugar.

Wahaca doesn't take bookings. I'm sure soon enough we'll see the Soho streets lined with hungry faces, what with the no-booking policy at Busaba Eathai a few doors down, and Polpetto on the street parallel.

*free food, drinks half price

Wahaca opens officially on Wednesday 10th November.

Wahaca

80 Wardour Street
London W1F 0TF

Tel: 020 7734 0195

Chipotle & Tamarind Ketchup

Chipotle chillis are smoke-dried jalapenos, used in a lot of Mexican cooking. I haven't had much experience of Mexican cooking myself but I do know that I am utterly addicted to these shrivelly brown little numbers.

They are pretty fiesty; I chucked in a whole chipotle into this recipe and the results set alight to the mouth; ideal for me, really. What you get is a gorgeously sticky, sweet, tangy and fiery sauce to dip your whatevers into. Sweetcorn fritters were my dipper of choice this time, but I imagine some totopos (that's nachos, innit?) would make a good vehicle too. When I ran out of fritter I just used a spoon.

You can buy chipotles in Bethnal Green, at Casa Mexico. You can also shop there online.


Chipotle & Tamarind Ketchup

1 chipotle chilli
1 decent tin of plum tomatoes
Half a white onion
1" of ginger
2 cloves of garlic
2 sprigs of thyme
1 tsp tamarin pulp
2 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt

In a small saucepan, simmer the chipotle chilli in water for about 20 minutes, until soft. Either remove the seeds or leave in whole. Mince finely with the onion, garlic, ginger and thyme (I used a mini chopper) and then add a little oil to make a paste. Fry this on a low heat in a saucepan for a good 10 - 15 minutes until deep brown and fragrant.

Drain the juices from the tin of the plum tomatoes (save it for your bloody mary...) and then pulverise the tomato. Add to the chilli mix, season, add the tamarind and the sugar and simmer on the lowest heat for a good 40 - 45 minutes, stirring occasionally. It will initially make plopping fart noises, decorating your hob with specks of red until the liquid separates a bit.

After this, work the sauce through a fine mesh - unless you like it slightly chunky, in which case don't.

Tequila Tasting at Green & Red

Most of us drank some sort of dark and evil spirit when we were teenagers that made us throw up until we could throw no more and we swore to ourselves we'd never drink it again. Actually, it was more than one spirit for me, but the one that I've never been able to get over is the dread tequila.

My friend Will of the Hawksmoor fame is also a part owner at Green & Red, a Mexican bar and restaurant in Shoreditch. He, always up for a challenge, told me he could change my mind about it. At his invitation and with some trepidation, I trudged over with a tequila-loving friend in tow.

In the able hands (uhm, figuratively) of the lovely barman, Davide, he asked me what my favourite cocktail was. The martini, of course. It didn't work so well in its tequila guise. I managed a sip and and a grimace.

We got back to basics with the tastings of the different ages of tequila. Through this, I learnt that I like the aged stuff the best, the tequila that's caramel in colour, and aged in barrels for a couple of years. The blanco, the youngest of all the three ages we tried, had the strongest flavour of agave. It was my least favourite.

What I did love though were the shots of sangrita (left) and verdita (right), which you drink after each tequila. The sangrita was like a little shot of bloody mary; spicy and intensely of tomato flavour. The verdita is a blend of mint, coriander, salt and chilli and it was incredibly moreish and refreshing.

The Real Hacienda is one of the priciest tequilas there. At £60 a shot, only a few hundred bottles of it are in existence since the maker closed down. It was alright.

A selection of tacos and totopos with salsas and guacamole arrived to line the stomachs. The corn tortillas which I usually find a bit chewy and muddy-tasting were thin, light and conveyed the food to the mouth well as the juices dribbled down my hands. The prawn filling was expertly cooked, with a dice of red onion, some salsa and a few coriander leaves to liven it up. Pork and pineapple was another favourite what with it being tender and smoky. The Nopales y Queso Fresco was standout - crunchy cactus with a fresh cheese and some jalapeno. It was nothing like the rubbery, bouncy salt slabs of queso fresco I suffered in Nicaragua.

We ended with probably the only drink I'd order happily again, and it was this watermelon margerita. Fresh watermelon smashed up with plenty ice, it belied the merest hint of agave.

So while I haven't been swayed towards the so-called merits of tequila, I've fallen in love with verdita and sangrita. I'd drink tequila just for them. And the next time I'm back, I'll be exploring that menu more extensively.

Green & Red

51 Bethnal Green Road
London E1 6LA

Tel: 0207 749 9670

Cantina Laredo

I suppose at some point you have to put your money where your mouth is. When I first heard about US-import Cantina Laredo, a new 'gourmet' Mexican restaurant opening in Covent Garden, I grimaced and guffawed at the prices. Seriously? £6.95 for a guacamole? Sure, it’s made table-side but at those prices I would expect a hot half-naked Mexican waiter to serve it to me whilst serenading the table on one knee, and preparing it at the same time. Ok, perhaps that would be a bit embarrassing, but you get the point.

Many twitter discussions to this end – “£12 for a FUCKING CRANBERRY SALAD????” - were picked up on by Cantina Laredo’s omnipresent PR team and I was duly invited for a meal there. It’s not somewhere I would ever go myself as those prices are just too prohibitive, but my theory is that you shouldn’t slag something off without having tried it. I asked if I could go anonymously, and aside from the team there knowing someone would at some point in the week, they agreed. So I hope this experience (I cringe at the word ‘review’) is somewhat more impartial.

Now, first thing’s first. Tequila and I don’t get on. Even the smell makes me retch and if someone mistakenly buys me a shot of it instead of the marginally more bearable sambucca, I have to hold my nose. I’m a determined drunkard. So determined in fact, that I still tried the margarita. A bucket of the stuff, lined with a heavy salt rim, straw poking stiffly out of its frozen contents, was drinkable. Sweet, citrussy and with only a hint of tequila, it was quaffable.

Obviously we had to have the guacamole. Sadly our waiter was conservatively dressed and he duly chopped, mashed and slung stuff into a bowl. With some tortilla chips and some lovely fiery salsas, it tasted alright – I’d have preferred some chilli but our server said the green peppers were jalepenos. They were the least spicy jalapenos I’ve ever tasted. We used our lime wedges hanging off the rim of our margaritas to pep it up a bit.

Starters of that infamous cranberry and pecan salad, and a ceviche (£8) turned up. The salad was an enormous bowl of greenery punctuated by dried cranberries and nuggets of pecan. Mouthful after mouthful of leaves were cloying; there wasn’t nearly enough blue cheese to balance out the overwhelming sweetness of it all. What’s Mexican about it? I’ve never visited the country so I haven’t a clue. Unfinished, it was pushed to one side. The ceviche was fine. That’s all; fine. Chunks of fish, parts of cooked prawns nestled in capers, olives and red onion. It lacked any kind of freshness or zippy zing that I associate with the dish.

On to the main courses, and we wanted to try the mole. Only on the menu with one dish, chicken enchiladas, our server tried to steer us away from it. “It’s very traditional Mexican”. I thought that was the point. Unrelenting, we ordered it. What a mistake we made. Upon its arrival at the table, I was reminded of a dessert. Smothered with a dark, almost-but-not-quite shiny sauce, anaemic sesame seeds were scattered on top. One dimensional in flavour, the sauce was vaguely chocolatey, with some sort of spice added to it. There was no hint of smoke or fruitiness, no complexity of flavour. The tough corn tortillas were sawed away to reveal chicken that was drier than a camel’s hoof. I stuffed my half down my face before gratefully swapping plates with my companion. My tastebuds wondered what on earth they’d done to deserve this.

Her dish, prawns with a cheese sauce was heaven in comparison. Well cooked prawns, spicy, cheesy dip and a ghastly lettuce and carrot salad that had chunks of mango in it. All 6 of ‘em for a whopping £16. Meanwhile, I looked up to find a face screwed up in horror. “This is the worst thing I’ve ever eaten in this country”. The chicken mole was left unfinished. I felt hard done by - I’d finished my half of it, dammit.

We were too disturbed and stuffed to contemplate dessert. We gazed at each other, agape in the incredulity of how unpalatable it was. The overwhelming feeling I got from it all was that it was all so damn sweet. Our bill, before we piped up and ‘revealed’ ourselves, was an arse-twitchingly expensive £100, 12.5% of which was a deserved service charge. Our waiter was charming, engaging and personable; we had a good amount of banter. Unfortunately, this was the only good thing to be found at Cantina Laredo.

Cantina Laredo

10 Upper St Martin's Lane
St Martin's Courtyard
London
WC2H 9FB

Tel: 0207 420 0630

Spicy Baked Eggs

One thing I usually make sure to do at the weekend is to take the time to have a nice proper breakfast or brunch. Weekday breakfasts consist of sad dusty bowls of miserable muesli at my desk, waiting for my email to load, or slices of slightly warm toast, bolted down while I run around the flat trying to find my keys. It makes the weekend a far more appreciated, leisurely affair.

Eggs feature heavily. They are comforting for healing the damages of Friday night beers, and they settle the stomach nicely. Recently I've taken to baking eggs in ramekins so that the whites are just set and the soft yolk oozes over the bread-dunking assault.

I went for a healthier version of the usual baked eggs with spinach, cream, butter and other niceties and made this smoky, chilli-packed version instead. A single dried chipotle chilli gave it plenty of kick with a background of smokiness that complemented the tomato well. If I wasn't still sick to death of them, this would go nicely with rice cooked with beans.

Spicy Baked Eggs

Serves 4

4 large eggs
1 tin of tomatoes
2 tbsp tomato puree
1 onion
1 fat clove of garlic
1 courgette
1 tsp sugar
1 stick of celery
1 dried chipotle chilli
2 avocados
4 flour tortillas
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Dice the onion, celery and the garlic and sweat in a frying pan gently. Meanwhile, rehydrate the chipotle chilli in a little boiling water. Once the onions are golden, add the tinned tomato and the tomato puree. Chop up the chipotle chilli and cut the courgette into chunks. Add to the tomato mixture along with the tomato puree and sugar, give it all a big stir and leave to simmer for 15 - 20 minutes, until thickened. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

When ready, spoon the tomato mixture into 4 ramekins, reserving about 2 tbsp. Crack an egg into each ramekin, carefully spoon a little more mixture on top and season lightly. Drizzle the extra virgin olive oil over the eggs. Cover with foil and bake for 10 - 15 minutes, until the whites are set and the yolk is still runny.

To serve, halve the avocados, skin them and slice thinly. Season with salt and pepper, and serve on the side. Place the tortillas under the grill until they are browned and nicely puffed up.