Koya, Soho

I don't know a whole lot about Japanese food, but what I do know is that I love udon noodles. Thick, white and slurpy, they are top of my list when choosing noodle dishes, with the Chinese ho fun, a wide flat rice noodle coming in at close second.

It was with great confusion and indecision when I was faced with four different serving options of udon noodles at the recently opened Koya, on Frith Street in Soho. Specialising in udon noodles, there is a choice of either hot noodles in hot broth, cold noodles in hot broth, cold noodles with cold dipping sauce, or cold noodles with a cold pouring sauce. Confusing, right? We decided to go for one of each of three (as there were three of us) to get a wide spectrum.

But firstly, I was excited to see onsen tamago on the menu. I first read about this here and instantly wanted them; traditionally cooked in hot springs just below 67 degrees C, the white was soft and silky, the egg yolk slightly set with liquid innards. Served in a small bowl with cool dashi broth, we were unsure as to how to tackle it. With a little stab of the chopstick I slurped down half, much like a shot, and savoured it slipping down the throat; soothing, with a salty, bonito-spiked cool broth following.

Next up, pork belly braised in cider served with a dab of Japanese mustard was tender, sheaths of fat moistening the flesh. The accompanying braised shallot fell apart in swathes of sweetness and was a joy to eat. I only wished we had a bit more.

For the main event, I opted for prawn and vegetable tempura with hot broth. Plates of noodles arrived at the table and we were somewhat baffled as to how to go to it. Thankfully our friendly waitress showed us the ropes - I was to dump my noodles in the broth and either put the tempura on top, or to dip them in as I went along. The first mouthful of noodle shovelled in was a revelation. So often the udon noodles I eat, from vacuum packets, are slippery, slimy and flacid. These were gloriously chewy and elastic, seasoned by the broth. Across the table, noodles in a pork and miso broth drew envious looks and we all agreed we would be going for this next time.

Again, I was excited when I saw natto on the menu as a topping, as I'd never tried it before. Natto is fermented soybeans, and they are famous for their challenging texture. A dining companion groaned and made faces when I insisted on ordering it, but I was convinced I would like them. I was wrong. They are VERY sticky. As I tentatively chopsticked them into my mouth, strands of what can only be described as slime hung from my eating implements and down my chin. I rather enjoyed the texture of them, but the taste? Eurgh, the taste. Sour, bitter, and slightly fruity. I scooped in another mouthful before I admitted defeat and I picked out all the rogue soybeans floating in my broth that I had so hastily lobbed in. Later, we were told by the serving staff that only the Japanese really like them. On Twitter, I was asked if they had been seasoned with mustard, spring onion and soy sauce; they had not. Apparently this is where we went so very wrong. The lingering whiff of them stayed with us for a while. A late night distressed tweet of natto burps made me shudder.

We paid £67 between three of us, including tip and 4 beers. Very reasonable indeed, and I can already feel the noodle craving creeping up on me. But not the natto. Oh no.

UPDATE: Upon a second visit, I am pleased to report it was just as good as the first. Pork and miso broth was meaty, umami goodness and onsen tamago, ordered as a topping instead of a small plate comes in the shell, ready to be cracked into and enrich the soup base. Hooray.


Koya

49 Frith Street
London W1D 4SG

Bella Vista Cucina Italiana, Blackheath

London can feel like a big place. Living in New Cross, I often find myself crossing the river to meet up with those North dwellers who have The Fear of the South East. This is a recognisable syndrome; confusion, sometimes panic at being told there is no tube station and the overland must be sought. Other symptoms include getting lost, becoming bewildered and crying at London Bridge and all of its 16 platforms.

It was with some happiness that I was invited to a dinner being organised for South Easters, at Bella Vista Cucina Italiana in the rather lovely Blackheath; a mere 10 minutes from my flat. I'd met all the people round the table bar a couple, and we're firm friends; we stick together in our little corner of the capital.

Huge fat buttery green olives tided us over while we sipped on lovely pear-scented glasses of Prosecco. A special set menu of 6 smaller dishes all of which are on the menu was devised for our table with the wines, all Italian, matched by Ben Smith of Enotria.

To start, 'calamari ripeni with sauteed monk's beard'. A new vegetable to me, it was much like a slightly stringier spinach. The tube was stuffed with the tentacles of the squid mixed with basil, spincah and pine nuts. A smooth, rich tomato sauce complemented it nicely.

Next up, a plateful of bresaola with goats cheese, beetroot and rocket. The beef, properly from the bull was thinly sliced and flavoursome. A swig of the wine, a fruity, cherry-scented Dolcetto Nirane Ascheri '09 brought out the beefy, bloody flavour well. A drizzle of olive oil over the leaves was gorgeously fruity, though the goats cheese slightly overwhelmed the flavour of the beef and was more suited to being smeared over the toasted slice of bread.

Grilled mackerel with anchovy, caper and fennel was the best wine and food match of the evening. The fish, stuffed with the anchovy and caper was beautifully fresh and crisp-skinned. Accompanying it, the salsa di Pomodoro was studded with pearl barley which managed to have a moreish creamy quality to it. A crisp '08 Pinot Bianco Classici from Colterenzio was citrussy without being acidic and had a slight flavour of honey to it, mellowing the aniseed tang of the fennel that was cooked until it was juicy, lurking beneath. We all loved this dish, and even converted someone who was previously dubious about the fish. I wanted more.

A pasta dish of Paccheri Amatriciana was a lesson in simplicity. Big fat slappy pasta tubes, cooked to al dente sat in a tomato sauce studded with bacon and basil, topped with a shaving of Pecorino. Being the pasta fiend I am, I finished mine off in no time and helped another diner out with theirs. It's reassuring to see a deft hand with pasta at an Italian restaurant.

Our final savoury course of the night, grilled lamb rump with marjoram sauce, looked mouth-watering. The slices of lamb were pink and tender, but the sauce had a bitter edge which was mildly tempered by the semi-dried tomatoes, though not enough so. The meat sat upon a smooth cannellini bean mash which wasn't to my taste; slightly floury in texture, I'd have preferred polenta or potato (I still ate it all). The Parusso Barolo '05 had a hint of vanilla and tobacco about it and while it was full-bodied, the lamb stood up well to it.

Full to the point of dangerous shirt-button-straining territory, I prayed for a light dessert. The date and mascarpone tart with Frangelico and hazelnut sauce was a delight, and one of the highlights - not something I often say about desserts. The filling was mousse-like in consistency, the pastry crumbly and buttery. It all had just the right amount of sweetness so as to not be cloying or sickly. Crunchy hazelnuts scattered around the plate were scooped up and shovelled in. The '06 Morsi di Luce I felt clashed ever so slightly with it, as it was a touch too sweet for my tastes and I enjoyed it more after I'd finished the dish.

Head chef Alex Tyndall, formerly of Michelin-starred Chapter One (a favourite of my family), came out to have a chat with us. Clearly passionate about finding the best ingredients, he's been cooking at Bella Vista only for a few months and it's obvious that with him at the helm, this place will do well. Quite frankly, it's a relief; Greenwich and Blackheath, both such lovely places to live near, used to have absolutely zip-zero decent eateries. With places like this and reportedly The Old Brewery (of which I haven't visited), things are looking up.

We paid up happily and waddled out to our cabs - shared, of course, since we're all locals. The next morning I woke up thinking about that pasta. I could've eaten it for breakfast.

Bella Vista Cucina Italiana

3/5 Montpelier Vale

Blackheath

London SE3 0TA

Tel: 020 8318 1143

Chocolate and Plum Galette

I went to San Francisco last summer and Tartine bakery was one of the places I couldn't wait to visit. The tiny bakery/cafe was the perfect place to go to on a sunny morning and Oliver and I happily indulged in beautiful stone fruit bread pudding and large foamy cappuccinos. It was pure heaven. I spent quite some time eying the open bakery in the back and looking at the trays of delicious freshly baked goods as they made their way from the oven to the store. I wanted to try so many of the treats (the banana cream pies, the brownies, the lemon tarts, the perfectly buttery croissants..). When I got home, I knew I had to purchase the Tartine cookbook - San Francisco is unfortunately a little too far to go back to on a whim!

After eying the book for inspiration for a while, I decided to start with this dough, and it surely didn't disappoint! This dough recipe has to be one of the best doughs I've made in a while: it's perfectly flaky, buttery yet not heavy and reminds you of the difference that 'homemade' makes. Making dough is one of those times where I really feel like traveling back in time: it's one of those rustic, back to earth activities that makes you marvel at how a pile of flour and a few cubes of butter can transform into such a beautiful end product.

The dough does take a little bit of time to make though, but most good things do, right? Some cookbooks, especially those that divulge recipes from famous restaurants around the world can be a little disappointing. You try the recipes at home and it's really just not the same. This dough, however, really is bakery-quality and can be mastered at home with just a little practice. I filled these galettes with chocolate ganache and plums, but try it with pears, blueberries, strawberries, apple or rhubarb - it all works!


Chocolate and Plum Galette
(Adapted from the Tartine Cookbook)

1 pound or 455 g unsalted butter, very cold
1 cup of water
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 1/3 cups of all purpose flour
2 2/3 cups of pastry flour

Egg wash
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon of cream
Brown sugar, for sprinkling

To make the dough, cut the butter into 1-inch cubes and put them in the freezer. Measure the water, dissolve the salt into it and put into the freezer as well. Chill both for about 10 minutes.

Measure the flour onto a large, flat work surface and spread into a rectangle about 1cm thick. Scatter the butter cubes over the flour and toss a little flour over the butter so that your rolling pin won’t stick, and begin rolling. When the butter starts flattening out into long, thin pieces, use a bench scraper to scoop up the sides of the rectangle so that it is the size that you started with. Repeat the rolling and scraping 3 or 4 times.

Make a well in the center and pour all of the water into it. Using the bench scraper, scoop the sides of the dough into the center, cutting the water through the dough. Keep scraping and cutting until the dough is a shaggy mass and shaped into a rectangle.

Lightly dust the top with flour and roll out the rectangle until it is half as large again, then scrape the top, bottom and sides together to the original size and re-roll. Repeat 3 or 4 times until you have a smooth and cohesive dough. Transfer rectangle of dough to a large baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap and chill for about an hour.

When you are ready to roll the dough, divide it into 2 equal portions if making large galettes or 12 equal portions for small ones. Roll the dough into circle shapes by rolling from the center to each end, not flattening the end points. Turn the pastry so the flattened out corners are at the top and bottom. Again, roll from the center towards the points nearest and farthest to you, stopping short of the top and bottom. Roll the thicker areas and you will begin to see a circle forming. Transfer to baking sheets and chill for 10 minutes.

Spread a layer a think layer of chocolate ganache on the bottom of each circle of dough, fill the center of each dough circle with fruit, leaving a 5cm edge uncovered on the large galettes or a 2cm edge on the small ones. Taste the fruit for sweetness and determine how much sugar you want to use to sweeten it. Sprinkle with brown sugar, typically using 2-4 tablespoons for large galettes and 1-2 teaspoons for small ones. Fold in the sides of the circle to cover the fruit partially. Chill for another 10 minutes.

In the meantime, preheat the oven to 190ºC (375ºF). To make the egg wash, whisk the egg yolk and cream in a small bowl. Crush the egg wash over the pastry edges and then sprinkle with brown sugar.

Bake the galettes until the crust has visibly puffed and baked to dark brown and the juice from the fruit is bubbling inside – 45-60 minutes for large galettes and 40-50 minutes for small galettes. Rotate the baking sheets at the midway point to ensure even baking. Remove from the oven and serve hot or at room temperature.

Crunchy Pappardelle with Purple Sprouting Broccoli

There's nothing quite like picking your own vegetables, straight from the ground and eating it all up the next day. I spent last Sunday at Riverford Organic Farm down in Devon; a beautiful part of the country. We jiggled around in the back of a Land Rover up and down country lanes, the previous evening's enjoyment of Somerset's cider making us turning a peculiar shade of green. We yanked up rosy stalks of rhubarb, inhaled the scents of wild garlic in woodland and picked off tender stems of purple sprouting broccoli.

Armed with our spoils, I was delighted to discover a recipe for crunchy pappardelle in the Guardian's weekend supplement, taken from Ottolenghi's forthcoming cookbook, Plenty. Pasta is so often the perfect vehicle for decent, flavoursome ingredients with minimal faffing around. I've also been meaning to garnish a pasta dish with breadcrumbs ever since I saw it here, so it really was the ideal recipe for the occasion.

I made a few changes, mainly substituting the garlic for wild garlic which is in season now and had a beautifully mild, but definitely garlicky flavour. Creamy and crunchy, it was a dish to herald springtime.

Crunchy Pappardelle with Purple Sprouting Broccoli

Serves one (generously)

125gr pappardelle
125gr purple sprouting broccoli
A large handful of wild garlic
125ml double cream
A splash of white wine
6 chestnut mushrooms
2 tbsp chopped flat leaf parsley
Zest of half a lemon
A stalk of rosemary
4 heaped tbsp panko breadcrumbs
A sprinkle of chilli flakes
Salt and black pepper

Set a large pot of salted water on to boil and throw the pasta in. Heat a little oil in a non stick pan and fry the mushrooms, quartered, until lightly coloured. Add the white wine, chilli flakes and double cream and simmer until reduced by about half.

Meanwhile, wash the broccoli and blanch in boiling water for a couple of minutes and drain.

In a non-stick frying pan, toast the breadcrumbs with the lemon zest and parsley until the breadcrumbs are golden brown. Chop the wild garlic roughly.

When the pasta is just short of al dente, drain, reserving a few tablespoons of the cooking water. Add the pasta to the cream mixture with the wild garlic and throw the broccoli back in. Cook on a low heat stirring slowly, adding the reserved cooking water tablespoon at a time if it's looking a little dry. Do this for a few minutes for the pasta to finish cooking. To serve, pile on a plate, season well and garnish with the breadcrumbs.

Pea, Mint and Feta Orzo

I have a newfound love for orzo. Regular readers of Chocolate Shavings will know that I absolutely love simple pasta dishes. I've developed most of my pasta recipes to take no longer than the pasta takes to cook. This minty, lemoney spring orzo does just that - it' s light celebrates the warmer weather (although we haven't really been seeing much of the beautiful spring days just yet) and makes these wonderful peas come to life.

I'm leaving for a month-long trip to London in a couple weeks, with an interesting food project ahead - stay tuned to hear more about it, and come along for the ride as I discover the great London eats. I've started making a list of restaurants, markets and specialty food stores to visit, but I'm definitely up for any advice from the locals!

In the meantime, enjoy the flowers starting to bloom and a good, healthy dose of minty orzo.

Pea, Mint and Feta Orzo
(for 2)

Orzo for 2
3 shallots, finely diced
2 green onions, finely diced
1 cup of frozen peas
1/2 lemon, juice and zest
4 tablespoons of olive oil
1/4 cup of cubed feta
10 mint leaves coarsely chopped
1 good handful of freshly grated parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper

Cook for orzo according to package instructions. While the pasta is cooking, set a pan on low heat with 1 tablespoon of olive oil. Add the diced shallot and green onion and a good pinch of salt and pepper. Cook the shallot mixture on low heat, making sure it doesn't burn. Keep the shallots cooking during the cooking time of the pasta.

When the pasta has 5 more minutes to cook, add the frozen peas to the pasta water.

In your serving bowl add the 3 tablespoons of olive oil, the lemon juice, zest and a good pinch of salt and pepper. Once the pasta is cooked, add the drained orzo and peas directly in the serving bowl. Fold in the cubed feta and Parmesan, and top with the mint leaves. Drizzle with a little olive oil, add some cracked pepper and serve immediately. Enjoy!

Food and Politics

You'll never get used to seeing yourself on camera. It is entirely nerve-wracking. Nevertheless, I'll share with you. I was invited to do a filming for The Observer Conversation. It's right on topic; food and politics. It is rather unfortunate that the below screen grab looks like I'm about to burst into tears. But no matter.



So, Sarah Brown has planted her own vegetable patch at No. 10. How do we feel about this? Can politicians influence the way we eat?

We did a filming with Jay Rayner about this very subject. Are we cynics that think this is a token gesture for the green vote? Do we think politicians can influence the way we eat? Have a click on the above video to hear me, Helen, Tom and Dan harping on about it. What do you think?

Drakes on the Pond, Surrey

Despite being asked sternly "you won't cancel this time, will you?" when I made my reservation, I had high hopes for Drakes on the Pond, located in the hilariously-named Abinger Hammer. My dad's birthday lunch, rescheduled due to illness, took place here on Good Friday.

The car park was littered with expensive cars, but when we entered the restaurant we were greeted by a quiet hush. A sunny room, there were only two other tables occupied by aging couples. Shuffling around uncomfortably for a minute or two, we were greeted by the lone waitress and shown to our table before she disappeared completely. After a wait, she eventually emerged to offer us drinks. Dressed casually, she gave the impression that she owned or was a parner of the place. I had to ask her to take our coats. At this point I was afraid to even cough, the restaurant was so quiet and it made for an awkward dining experience, devoid of any ambience aside from what we created ourselves.

We were only offered a set menu, each course with three options. My starter was chicken liver parfait; a huge block of silky smooth liver accompanied by heady truffle-scented brioche and a plum chutney to lighten things up a bit. It was a mammoth portion, and as delicious as it was, there was not enough chutney or bread. Or perhaps there was too much parfait. It was left half finished.

My main, a fillet of cod on creamed potatoes and leeks with a scallop roe sauce was well cooked. The potatoes and leeks had obviously been made with swathes of butter while the sauce was only vaguely reminiscient of its description. It was a very rich dish, and it could have done with an acidic element to balance it out. Across the table, lamb fillet was disappointingly over-cooked.

We decided against dessert and had coffees instead. Petit fours were "cocoa-dusted lumps of butter" and rather unpalatable.

To add to the lacking ambience and general comfort of the room, service was pretty shocking. Don't, for example, leave our bottle of wine on a shelf by the side when there's perfectly enough room on the table and then leave our glasses empty - I am not a fan of empty glasses. No water was offered, and the waitress seemed to be more interested in sitting down and having a natter with one of the other couples, obviously friends of hers, than doing her job properly. I am in complete bafflement as to why they still have a Michelin star. The food may have been worth the £20 for two courses, but based on this experience, don't bother.

Drakes on the Pond

Dorking Road
Abinger Hammer,
Dorking RH5 6SA

Tel: 01306 731 174