A dominatrix feeds champagne to a horny dog.

champ2

Happy New Year!  I hope this finds you rested and rearing to go.  The two weeks of sloth leading up to the first day of work in the New Year is a dead time in London.  It is also a great time to eat at hot restaurants without the usual scrum to get in.  That was my theory anyway as I made my way to Bubbledogs on Charlotte Street in London, late on a wet Saturday afternoon.  Charlotte Street has now gone all genteel.  Time was when its most famous resident was Theresa Berkley, an early 19th century dominatrix who ran a brothel specialising in flagellation.  Up the road from the old whorehouse is Bubbledogs, which serves hotdogs with champagne.  That’s all they serve.  No starters, no coffee, no dessert, no whips, no cuffs, no Shades of Grey. There are veggie hot dogs for vegetarians, but you really shouldn’t come to a hot dog restaurant if you are a fruit and nut type.

Bubbledogs is one of the hottest restaurants in London and annoyingly takes no reservations (except for parties of 6 or more).  Having a number of tables free for walk-ins is a good policy (as practised by the Wolseley and its sister restaurants – see my review “Slums, Prostitutes and French People in London“).  Otherwise you have the absurd situation where the next available reservation may be six months away (as at Dabbous – read my review “My Dinner with Nigella“).  A blanket  no reservations policy however, appears designed to keep out the over 40 crowd.  No one over 40 has the time or the patience to stand in line to eat a hot dog.  So the restaurant is full of pretty young things who don’t mind standing in line for an hour and a half, while cheerily updating their Facebook status (“still waiting in line….”).

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Looking into Bubbledogs

I got into Bubbledogs at my fourth attempt, having refused to stand in line on principle.  Once I was with cost centre number one – we ended up having a nice meal at the Charlotte Street Hotel instead.  On my second attempt I was with the Irish Media Baron.  We ended up at Kikuchi – easily one of the best and most authentic Japanese sushi restaurants in town – although with no atmosphere and bonkers service. On my third attempt I was with the diplomat.  We repaired to Brasserie Zedel – with room for 270 covers you can always find a table there.

So who in their right mind would pair hot dogs with champagne?  A hot dog is a simple pleasure, best eaten at a baseball game.  Champagne, especially the hard to find artisanal and vintage champagnes served at Bubbledogs is a higher, more refined pleasure.  John Stuart Mill famously postulated that simple pleasures are for ordinary people and Americans, while higher pleasures could only be appreciated by highly educated and creative people.    Bubbledogs can be viewed as a social experiment in bringing together the lower and higher pleasures for the benefit of the Facebooking proletariat.  Or something like that.

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The food menu at Bubbledogs

The experiment doesn’t work.  The hot dogs are good, especially the beef variety (they come in beef, pork or veggie) which is nicely spiced and bursts out of its skin on the first bite. There is an intriguing variety of flavours including a Korean version – the K Dawg (with Kimchi, lettuce and red bean paste), the 4th of July (a hot dog wrapped in bacon and  served with BBQ sauce and coleslaw) and the Horny Dog (a proper corn dog, the first I’ve tasted outside the USA – a hot dog wrapped in corn breading). They are interesting flavours and they are good.  The husband and wife team behind Bubbledogs, James Knappett and Sandia Chang have impeccable credentials.  His last gig was at the double Michelin starred Ledbury restaurant in Notting Hill.  She came from Noma in Copenhagen,  ”the world’s best restaurant” .  They know a thing or two about combining flavours.  Even the side dishes are good.  I loved the sweet potato fries and tater tots, last seen on a school lunch menu in America.  Tater tots are small, cylindric hash browns; grated potatoes, breaded and deep fried .

The champagnes are tasty.  They are all sourced from small artisanal producers and include a decent smattering of recent vintages.  The champagnes are reasonably priced from £35-£98.  Five varieties are available by the glass including the Laherte Freres, Blanc de Blancs which is a rare non dose champagne (meaning no added sugar – even the best houses add sugar to their champagnes to keep the flavour consistent).  The most popular champagne being ordered was also the cheapest, a rosé at £6 a glass (£35 a bottle) which was a cheerful bubbly reminiscent of a cava.  Therein lies the rub.  The cheapest bubbly had enough of a proletarian easy drinking vibe to work with a hot dog.  Frankly, the delicate flavour of a nice champagne (a high pleasure) is simply overwhelmed by the phoar wallop of base flavours in a hot dog (a low pleasure).   I’d stick to beer, of which Bubbledogs has a nice handpicked selection.

The Jose Dog with salsa, avocado, sour cream and pickled jalepenos

The Jose Dog with salsa, avocado, sour cream and pickled jalepenos

There is also a small but well put together selection of cocktails. I liked my Quince Sour, an interesting take on a whisky sour with dark rum replacing the whisky and quince (apparently the original forbidden fruit of the garden of Eden) adding a nice sharpness to a surprisingly light cocktail.

Don’t get me wrong, I like this place.  Its fun and buzzy – a single small room with wooden floors, and walls of distressed wood and exposed brick.  One sits on closely packed high stools at small tables or at the bar.  The staff is friendly and chatty.  Bubbledogs has the unmistakable ambiance of a successful restaurant – the excited chatter of people tasting unfamiliar flavours, the conviviality of friends toasting each other with champagne.  The problem is I wanted to stay and savour more champagne and more cocktails, but it’s hard to linger when you know there is a crowd standing outside waiting for you to leave.

The Quince Sour with a side of sweet potato fries

The Quince Sour with a side of sweet potato fries

Bubbledogs is successful despite its core premise, mixing hot dogs with champagne, being off-base.  Fortunately both the hot dogs and the champagne are good enough that people seem to overlook the fact that they don’t really go together. I’d go back, but I’d wait for the novelty value of the place to die down so I could relax and work my way through the drinkables part of the menu.

Square Meal

Bubbledogs on Urbanspoon

More Canine Wisdom

Technically, the restaurant is called Bubbledogs &.  The & is a chef’s table at the back where James Knappett keeps his hand in haute cuisine and serves a tasting menu with nary a hot dog in sight.  Reservations required.  A Rather Unusual Chinaman has a good review of the tasting menu experience.

Merry Christmas! Happy Hangovers!

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!  Celebrate with my favourite cocktail, the vodka martini.  The secret to the perfect martini is to get the vodka super cold by storing it in the freezer.  Rinse a glass with vermouth, pour the vodka and garnish with a lemon twist or an olive.  Cheers!

The period between Christmas and New Year is delightful.  The preference is to nest with family and friends while eating rich food and drinking copiously (although a few masochistic friends attempt meaningful exercise during this period, usually returning to work in January having broken a leg on a ski slope).  There is nothing better during this season than to be in the company of good friends with a bellyful of wine and a fat cigar.

What happens with about a week’s worth of solid drinking is that one has to face up to a week’s worth of mornings-after.  A sure fire hangover cure is required.  The inestimable Kingsley Amis (from whom I have cribbed rather generously) suggested two components to the hangover – the physical hangover and the metaphysical hangover.  One consists of the physical symptoms of overindulging; the headache, nausea and all that.  The other consists of the general sense of blahness one feels after the pounding headache starts to recede.

The only proper cure for a hangover is to start drinking again, as soon as possible.

However, your body and mind may need a bit of working over before you can hit the bottle afresh.  The first challenge is to work on the physical hangover.  The best cure is to wake up next to someone and have vigorous sex – the endorphins will give you both a physical and emotional boost.  However, this assumes you wake up next to someone you should be in bed with.  If this is not the case and you might have a bad conscience about it afterwards then abstain; guilt and shame are a big part of the metaphysical hangover and sex will only exacerbate the situation.  For the same reason do not take the matter into your own hands if you should wake up by yourself.

Flaming the absinthe is a delightful tradition in my home.  It brings out my inner pyromaniac and it scares the children into silence.  Pour absinthe over a sugar cube balanced on a slotted spoon (or fork).  Light the sugar cube.  The flames will eventually ignite the contents in the glass as well.  When you've tired of this, pour iced water to douse the flames.  Drink deeply. Try not to cut off your ear afterwards.

Flaming the absinthe is a delightful tradition in my home. It brings out my inner pyromaniac and it scares the children into silence. Pour absinthe over a sugar cube balanced on a slotted spoon (or fork). Light the sugar cube. The flames will eventually ignite the contents in the glass as well. When you’ve tired of this, pour iced water to douse the flames. Drink deeply. Try not to cut off your ear afterwards.

Shower and shave.  Under no circumstances take a cold shower.  The shock could kill you.  Shaving will help you improve your hand eye coordination and blood letting is a well known cure for illness.  Galen of Pergamon famously believed that blood letting cured “fever, headaches and apoplexy”.  I am not exactly sure what apoplexy is but it seems like a good thing to be rid of.

Do not attempt to eat anything healthy.  It will make you throw up.  Your body is dealing with toxicity and must be gently introduced to solids.  Most diets ban all carbohydrates; potatoes, bread and the like.  I would also ban all fruit and vegetable from the morning after diet.  You never liked it so why eat it when you are feeling particularly shitty anyway? A large steak with fried eggs, perhaps with a few rashers of bacon and a dash of tabasco lays a good foundation.

The drink that accompanies this meal must be a properly made Bloody Mary – the time tested hair of the dog that bit you.  Vodka, tomato juice, worcester sauce, tabasco sauce, freshly ground black pepper, cayenne, celery salt and a few sticks of celery (for garnishing only – do not attempt to eat a vegetable at this stage).  I like to add a generous dollop of fresh horseradish and mix in a cube of beef bouillon.  The beef bouillon adds food value and has the added benefit of keeping your vegetarian great aunt from stealing your potion.  Drink at least a pint of this mix before moving on to the metaphysical cure.

A classic bond flick is part of the recovery process.  So is a drink.  This is a Vesper Martini, cribbed from Casino Royale.  3 measures gin, 1 measure vodka, 1/2 measure Lillet Blanc.  Drink shaken. not stirred.  Obviously.

A classic Bond flick is part of the recovery process. So is a drink. This is a Vesper Martini, cribbed from Casino Royale. 3 measures gin, 1 measure vodka, 1/2 measure Lillet Blanc. Drink shaken, not stirred. Obviously.

Now at this point I must advice you that there are variants to my morning after diet. Winston Churchill famously had a brace of cold snipe and a pint of port after a hard night’s drinking.  Samuel Taylor Coleridge had a half dozen fried eggs and a glass of laudanum (an alcoholic tincture of opium) and seltzer.  Take your pick.

The metaphysical cure to the hangover – getting rid of blahness means paying attention to your other senses.  Music and movies are a good bet.  Do not listen to anything shouty or any drum and bass (its annoying even when you are sober).  Don’t listen to any blues or jazz either – their themes are melancholy and will make you depressed.  Avoid opera as well – too many good people die in them and they will make you depressed.  Light classical music without vocals is recommended.  Vocals are annoying: you are still not ready to deal with other humans and the sound of voices will grate on you.

When you are ready to engage your eyes with moving pictures watch something to raise the pulse and make you feel good.  Do not watch art movies, romantic flicks or anything by a female director.  They will make you depressed.  A Sean Connery era Bond movie is always a good bet while Bruce Lee kills bad people with style.

Go then.  Drink and be merry.  May the spirits be with you!  Merry Christmas!

A version of this blog appeared last year

Last Minute Gifts to Souse Your Spouse

The Sacred spirits be with you!  Six botanicals and a bottle of gin.

The Sacred spirits be with you! Six botanicals and a bottle of gin.

It’s a bit sad isn’t it?  You’ve had all year to figure out what to get your friends and family and here you are the Sunday before Christmas trying to determine whether Amazon can deliver on time.  I know a few friends who were hoping the world would end on the 21st thus negating the need for gift shopping.  Now what?

A few thoughts.  I recently discovered Carpano Antica Formula Vermouth.  Vermouth was invented by Antonio Benedetto Carpano in Turin in 1786.  His company has been making the stuff in small batches ever since.  If the only vermouth you’ve tasted to date has been a nondescript mixer in a Manhattan or a Negroni prepare to be amazed.  This has depth, complexity and a hint of bitterness.  Perfect by itself or in your cocktail.

Carpano Antica Formula - my drink discovery of the year.

Carpano Antica Formula – my drink discovery of the year.

The Sacred distillery makes craft gin and vodka in Highgate, up the hill from where I live.  Ian Hart makes his spirit in the back room of his house while the more flammable part of the operation is situated in a Wendy house at the bottom of his garden.  Their gin blending kit of six organic botanicals lets you mix your own gin.  The botanical distillates: juniper, citrus, angelica, coriander, cardamom and liquorice, also make fun additives to your favourite gin as a flavour enhancer.  Gin gin!

For a special bottle of wine, visit Hedonism on Davies Street in Mayfair, the brainchild of exiled Russian mobile phone tycoon Evgeny Chichvarkin.  They have what is thought to be the most complete collection of high end wines, champagnes, gins, rums etc.  Every year of Chateau d’Yquem, Hannibal Lecter’s favourite sauterne, is stocked. The Chateau d’Yquem 1811 they have for sale is thought to be the oldest bottle in the world. You can touch a £5,000 (US $8,000) bottle of Chateau Lafite or purchase a £120,000 bottle of Penfold’s Block 42 Kalimna Cabernet Sauvignon 2004.  If you are worried about how to open a £120,000 (US $194,000) bottle of wine don’t worry – Penfold’s jets over a wine maker from Australia to do it for you.  The wines at Hedonism start at £15 (US $25) although this will never be your local off-license, unless you happen to be a hedge fund manager. Or a Russian exile.

The display is as outrageous as the wine selection at Hedonism

The display is as outrageous as the wine selection at Hedonism

James Bond fans who’ve seen the movie Skyfall will know his penchance for the 50 year old Macallan scotch whisky.  The 1962 is available at Selfridges as is the rather rarer 1950 vintage – for a cool £6,000 (US $9,700).  The Macallan 18 year old is still a very special whisky, matured in sherry oak casks.  At around £100 (US $120) it is a little easier on the pocket book.

Macallan 1950

Macallan 1950 at Selfridges

And what if your friends and family are teetotallers?  God bless you.  You really need a drink!

Merry Christmas!

Where to get them

The wine shop at Selfridges in London has a superb selection, as does the online Whisky Exchange. The Whisky Exchange also sells miniature bottles of alcohol of the kind served on airlines – great for trying out a new drink or for a picnic.  In New York City, Astor Wines is an old favourite and stocks Antica Formula. They also have a superb online shop and an extensive range of kosher and organic wines.

Serendipity is a Tamarind Martini

Howzat! World class cricket is usually on offer in Sri Lanka.  New Zealand gets thrashed in Galle.

Howzat! World class cricket is usually on offer in Sri Lanka. New Zealand getting thrashed in Galle.

Take a fun loving tropical island nation and lock the people up for three decades.  Then throw open the doors and let the sun shine in.  That is what’s happening in Sri Lanka as the nation gets used to the idea of living without a civil war.  The country is busting loose as it throws off its shackles and enjoys life in the 21st century.  Named by Lonely Planet as the number one tourist destination for 2013 and cited by the New York Times, Conde Nast Traveller and National Geographic Traveller as a top holiday destination, the country is experiencing a 50% year on year increase in tourist arrivals.  As the winter chill grips London and New York, I chased the sun and escaped to Sri Lanka.

The ride from the airport to Colombo is hair raising. Some countries drive on the left hand side of the road, some countries drive on the right.  In Sri Lanka they appear to drive in the shade.  Driving in Sri Lanka is a contact sport.

Arriving at my mother’s house an hour or so later, I needed a tipple.  What to drink?

The national brew is distilled from the unopened flowers of the coconut palm. Each morning at dawn, men walk between coconut palms on tight ropes, collecting the nectar.   The liquid naturally and immediately ferments into a milky coloured, mildly alcoholic drink called toddy or palm wine.  On beach vacations my parents would give us kids fresh toddy – guaranteed to make sure we fell asleep and didn’t bother the grown ups.  Get your beachfront hotel or local friends to procure toddy for you – it should only be drunk fresh and isn’t commercially available.  Local toddy taverns are grotty working men’s drinking holes where you squat on the ground and drink out of coconut shells.  Don’t.

A toddy tapper at work

A toddy tapper at work

To make a more refined brew, toddy is poured into wooden vats made of teak or halmilla where the natural fermentation continues.  Pot stills enter the process at some point resulting in a beverage called Arrack (about 35% alcohol by volume).  The drink has a golden whiskey hue.  It’s flavour falls somewhere between whiskey and rum, sweeter than scotch but with a powerful aftertaste.   Arrack is widely available in Sri Lanka and is usually drunk with soda or ginger beer.  Old Reserve remains my favourite brand.  Harvey Nichols sells Sri Lankan arrack in London.

The local beers, made in the hill country in breweries established by the Brits are good strong lagers.  Lion Lager is a personal favourite.  The Victorian Brits also distilled gin in Sri Lanka. The quinine in the tonic water in a G+T protects against Malaria.  A good reason to imbibe. Rockland’s Gin is a delightfully aromatic gin – in London you can find it at Purl and the Worship Street Whistling Shop  (for a review read Maggie Thatcher and Drinking Baby Milk Formula).

For a non-alcoholic beverage, stick to king coconut water. It costs £3.00 (US $5) for a can at my gym in Notting Hill.  A few pence will get you the fresh stuff in Sri Lanka.  Drink it straight out of the coconut, for an authentic if slightly dribble ridden experience.

Tamarind Martini at the Gallery Cafe.  Vodka, Vermouth, Tamarind Liquid.  Chilli on the rim.

Tamarind Martini at the Gallery Cafe. Vodka, Tamarind Juice, Amaretto. Chilli on the rim.

No trip to Colombo is complete without sipping a cocktail at the Galle Face Hotel.  Established in 1864 this is the oldest hotel east of the Suez.  Its guest list includes Mark Twain, Anton Chekov, John D. Rockefeller, Yuri Gagarin, Richard Nixon and various members of British royalty.  It’s listed in the book 1000 Places to See Before You Die. On arrival, waiters padding silently in bare feet greet you.  On my last visit a purposeful looking security guard prowled the garden armed with a slingshot to chase away crows.  Anything fancy will test the bartenders here – ask for a simple Gin and Tonic or Arrack and Soda.  Hang out by the salt water pool naturally refreshed by currents from the Indian Ocean and enjoy the sunset.

The Galle Face Hotel.  Sit where Chekov sat and raise a glass...

The Galle Face Hotel. Sit where Chekov sat and raise a glass…

Sticking to the colonial theme I usually meet friends at the Colombo Rowing Club (it is a member’s only establishment so get a local friend to take you).  Racing sculls are stored on the ground floor.  Upstairs is a wonderfully atmospheric teak paneled room, open on three sides, overlooking the Beira Lake.  Wooden plaques commemorate long forgotten rowing victories against colonial rivals. Fan blades churn the air overhead, moving the air and keeping the mosquitos at bay.  The draft Lion Lager is excellent here as is the spicy devilled seafood.

Live jazz at Qbaa

Live jazz at Qbaa

The hottest venue in Colombo currently is Qbaa where I listened to live jazz and blues while sipping a margarita.  Financed by cricket legend Sanath Jayasuriya, it offers a sophisticated drinking and dining experience.  There is an extensive cocktail menu, but I find that sticking to standard summer cocktails is generally advisable in Sri Lanka – mixologists are thin on the ground.  Margaritas, Cosmopolitans and Mojitos are generally safe.  If you want to push the boat out on cocktails try the Floor by O overlooking the cricket pitch at the Colombo Hockey and Football Club.  They are seeking entry into the Guinness Book of World Records for the most number of cocktails on a menu – they currently boast over 1500.   I love the tamarind martinis at The Gallery Café, served in the former office of Geoffrey Bawa, the premier South Asian architect of his generation.

Inside at the Gallery Cafe

Delightful decor at the Gallery Cafe

Sri Lanka is firmly entrenched in the South Asian tradition of dynastic rule.  Get a flavour for it at Tintagel, the former residence of Prime Minister S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, his wife Sirima (the world’s first woman prime minister) and their daughter Chandrika Kumaratunga (a former President).  In a macabre twist you can walk on the spot where Mr Bandaranaike was fatally shot by a Buddhist monk.  That’s the problem with holy rollers – you never know when they are packing heat under their robes.

Tintagel: a suitable venue for a prime minister

Tintagel: a suitable venue for a prime minister

The Bandaranaike’s were ardent socialists and nationalised many private enterprises, effectively destroying them.  At the height of his campaign MPs avoided the Men’s Room at the House of Parliament, worried that they might bump into the rather fay prime minister who was known to nationalise anything big…

It is ironic that the home of socialists is now home to an upmarket French/European hotel and restaurant catering to a very capitalist clientele.  If you really want to eat European food in Sri Lanka or impress a local lass, go.  The food is good, the decor is divine.  Bring your own booze however, since the last time I visited, Tintagel couldn’t get a liquor license on account of being located near a school.

This is the time to visit Sri Lanka.  The most expensive cocktail I could find cost only 980 rupees (about £5 or US$ 7), but prices are rising fast as the country finds its feet and gets firmly onto the tourist circuit.  Watch some cricket, lie on a beach, catch some rays, sip a cocktail.  No wonder Horace Walpole coined the word Serendipity (finding something good without looking for it) after visiting Serendib, the ancient name by which Arab traders referred to Sri Lanka. Go!

Insider Info

My boyhood friend Nishad Wijetunge and his wife Budeni run the excellent Wayfarers boutique travel agency whom I use to arrange all my holidays in Sri Lanka.  Tell him I sent you.

Cocktails, Clerics and Reincarnation

20121116-145918.jpgThe wire frame Buddha at Buddha Bar London.

Organised religion is a mass of contradictions. Ostensibly about peace, love and brotherhood, it is also a justification for war, killing thy neighbour and stoning people you don’t like. The priesthood reflects the contradictions. Religious clerics are a mixed bag of the selfless, the charming, the boringly righteous, the political opportunists, the odd child molester, and people wanted for questioning by the CIA.

Growing up in Sri Lanka we practised a cafeteria style approach to Buddhism, picking and choosing the bits we liked and blithely ignoring the inconvenient. We dislike killing animals (it is banned), but rather like eating meat. So the country has Muslim and Christian butchers. Goats run scared because unlike pork or beef, its meat is not banned by any religion and can be happily served to Hindu, Jewish and Muslim guests.

20121116-134634.jpgA case in point of a cleric getting hooked up with the wrong crowd. Abu Hamza my favourite Mad Mullah, now a guest of the CIA.

Christians are great – they eat everything, unless they are from California in which case you have to convince them that everything is organic. I did make a fish curry recently for some Californian friends who worried that the fish I chose was not organically raised. One woman worried that it may have been contaminated by swimming in sewage infected waters. I told her not to worry, pointing out that sewage is organic. Somebody kicked me under the table.

I was gazing at a rather interesting wire frame image of the Buddha whilst sipping a cocktail at the newly reincarnated Buddha Bar in London. Naming a bar after a religious figure is a risky proposition. Pick the wrong religion and you could have a fatwa on your hands. Fortunately, Buddhists are a patient lot – they’ll probably wait and get you in the next life.

The Buddha Bar concept was kicked off in Paris in 1996 by Claude Challe, a one time rabbinical scholar turned hairdresser. It offers a seductive mix of cutting edge world/ambient music, creative cocktails, Asian fusion cuisine and beautiful people. Some years later the concept was franchised and went global. The London branch was a victim of bad timing and lasted just 18 months before closing down in May 2010.

20121116-150644.jpgA Japanese whisky based Manhattan and the Ying Coco Yang.

I have a soft spot for the old Buddha Bar in London, having spent a fun evening there with some accountant friends (yup, they do let their hair down sometimes, if they have any) on its last night. Once we left, others from their firm came in at dawn, bolted the doors and shut the place down! Back then it was located on the embankment, a few doors down from the Walkabout, where antipodeans go to drink cheap beer and meet cheaper dates. The reincarnated Buddha Bar is in a posher location in Knightsbridge across from the luxury development at One Hyde Park, where the apartments retail for between £20 and £140 million (US $ 31m-190m).

While the location is posh, Buddhists would argue that it has bad karma. Many restaurants have come and gone from this venue, the Chicago Rib Shack being the last.

There is a bar upstairs and a large restaurant space in the basement for 240 covers. It is an open space decorated with a vaguely Asian motif. The aforesaid Buddha wireframe dominates, throwing interesting shadows. The floors and ceilings are in dark wood, while the chairs are upholstered in oriental fabrics. Asian woodcuts separate the dining areas.

I like the room, but it felt like a transplant from another era. I guess this happens with reincarnation sometimes. What was edgy once seems slightly dated and cliched now. The music is still good, but not that special anymore. The cocktails have intriguing Asian ingredients, but others do the same thing now. The nearby Mandarin Bar at the Mandarin Oriental hotel does Asian inspired cocktails rather well.

The menu at the Buddha Bar is pricey – £28 (US $50) on average for a main course reflects a pre-Lehman pricing strategy. £75 (US $ 120) for the cheapest bottle of sake is plain bonkers. Thankfully the wine list is more accessible.

20121116-150355.jpgDelicious but expensive food.

The Buddha Bar cocktails are good and not unreasonably priced at £10.50. I tried a Ying Coco Yang. Made with coconut cream, fresh lime juice and chilli infused gin, it was an interesting take on a piña colada with the chilli punch nicely counterbalancing the sweetness of the coconut cream. The So Be @ Miami was light and refreshing, made with fresh mint, grapefruit, vanilla sugar and teo infused gin. It was reminiscent of a longer, lighter version of a mojito made with gin instead of rum, with some citrus highlights. It looked fabulous! The Manhattan made with Japanese whisky, umeshu and plum bitters was less successful. I had an intriguing version of this drink at Bugsy’s in Prague a few weeks ago (see 40 minutes, a large cigar and an Arabian adulteress) The proportions and the ingredients in the Buddha Bar version didn’t quite work – the whisky flavours dominated and burned without being mellowed by the other ingredients.

The Buddha Bar had been open less than a week when I visited. There were rough edges still being worked out, service being one of them. It’s in a good location for a post retail cocktail; Harvey Nichols and Harrod’s are around the corner. The music is good, as are the cocktails. Can it avoid the life and death samsara cycle that affected other restaurants at this address? I don’t know. Perhaps it’s time for a prayer.

More Grooviness

The Buddha Bar in Paris is still a fine venue. For a different take on the ambient sound and fine cocktails experience I like the Hotel Costes in Paris. Apart from a groovy sound track you have the advantage of being able to roll into bed should the cocktailing leave you unsteady on your feet. The rooms at the Costes are very nice.

Buddha-Bar London on Urbanspoon

40 minutes, a large cigar and an Arabian adulteress

If something feels good there’s usually somebody out there trying to ban it. When it comes to booze all kinds of whacked out religious types ranging from Christians to Hindus, Buddhists and Muslims have tried to ban it. Jews haven’t tried to ban booze, they just try to make you drink kosher wine which pretty much puts everyone off.

I was in the capital of the ancient Kingdom of Bohemia where they had just announced a ban on spirits. Someone was adulterating the good stuff with methanol, which can make you go blind. As hangovers go, that must rank amongst the worst. The Bohemians took it in their stride; every drinking hole I visited in Prague had a different interpretation of the ban!

I have huge admiration for the Czechs. Their ancient nation had a horrible 20th century. The Nazis and the Russian Communists wiped out two thirds of the population of Prague, during World War 2. The communists then ruled for over 40 years with an iron fist. Yet the “Velvet Revolution” that freed them was bloodless. There can’t be that many revolutions led by a poet, who then celebrated with a jazz jam session with President Bill Clinton on sax. And they love Absinthe.

The problem with Prague is that it’s over run by drunken Brits. Most nationals behave badly when they travel overseas. Americans are famously loud, boorish and larger than life, or sometimes just large. Brits are drunk and randy; they gather in Prague for extended stag and hen weekends. Given that more than 50% of marriages in the UK end in divorce, there is a perverse logic to celebrating impending doom and huge expense by getting shit faced and sleeping with someone whose name you won’t remember. A British woman wearing a flashing “L” sign and smelling of weed and lager blocked my escape route one night. We tried talking but she was more stoned than an Arabian adulteress…

20121025-174746.jpg
An illustration from the lavish cocktail menu at Bugsy’s

Escaping randy drunks and the slightly gangsterish Eastern European nouveau riche, I made my way to Bugsy’s, one of Prague’s finest cocktail lounges. Bugsy’s (as in Bugsy Malone’s) is a basement venue with vaulted ceilings bathed in soft red lighting. A DJ was spinning a sophisticated Buddha Bar-like sound track. Bugsy’s celebrates a properly old world drinking experience. The cocktail menu is published as a lavish book, featuring sexy, black and white illustrations. There is a huge cigar case by the entrance. Most things are legal in Prague, including smoking in bars and prostitution.

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Jakob the bartender at Bugsy’s carefully lights my cigar

Jakob my bartender was knowledgeable about all there was on offer at the bar. He carefully talked me through the tasting notes on their extensive selection of Cuban and Dominican cigars and helped me select a medium bodied Dominican Ti Amo tubelo which he said should last me about 40 minutes. “A woman is a woman, but a cigar is a good smoke,” opined one of his regulars, approving of my selection. He looked like a man who’d know.

The cocktails ranged from gloriously traditional to wonderfully creative, with some uniquely Czech twists along the way. The Martini Number One was a very traditional gin martini with orange bitters – the original martini recipe usually included bitters. The Thai Tini featured coriander vodka with watermelon – a light, delicate drink. I had a fabulous twist on an Old Fashioned made with Japanese plum whisky and homemade pineapple and white pepper bitters. The sweetness of the plum whisky stood up well to the peppery bite of the bitters. Becherovka, an herbal bitters which is the Czech national drink, featured in the Lolita, topped with sparkling wine and lychee. Becherovka is a pleasant aperitif by itself, tasting of anise and cinnamon, not dissimilar to a pastis. In the Lolita it added bottom and complexity to a long drink.

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A Plum Old Fashioned being prepared with Japanese whiskey

The Czechs have a proud old tradition of brewing some of the world’s finest pilsners. The original Budweiser, brewed since 1785 and sold under the
Budweiser Budvar label in Western Europe is a complex beer – a far cry from the watery American brew of the same name. It is sold as Czechvar in the US. Pilsner Urquell however, is the Czech Republic’s most celebrated beer; the world’s first pilsner beer, brewed since 1840 in Pilsen.

At Ambient Lokal, a funky pub which featured huge steel vats of unfiltered Pilsner Urquell, the party trick is to vary the levels of Carbon Dioxide in your beer. “Sweet”, “slice” and “creme” pours feature increasing levels of CO2. The creme is basically a glass of thick foamy head – surprisingly refreshing and slightly sweet. One has to drink it quickly before it settles.

I couldn’t taste the absinthe because of the spirits ban but I did try the local pear brandy, a delightfully clear palate cleanser reminiscent of grappa.

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Delightful Czech pear brandy at Ambient Lokal

Prague has a lot to offer. While traditional Czech cuisine is a bit heavy on meat and potatoes, there are some very good international restaurants. Kampa Park, under the Charles Bridge is a particular favourite with great food and superb views of the old town. Ask for a table at water level. By the time you read this you may even be able to drink the absinthe again. Cheers! Na zdravi!

An African Odyssey: Dog’s Bollocks and Bitch’s Tits

I had recently arrived from America and was tasked with interviewing some UK customers by my employer.  One such customer accused the company of being arrogant.  Leaning forward, he angrily stuck a finger in my face and asked, “why do you guys think that you are the dog’s bollocks”? I had no idea.  In fact I had no idea what “dog’s bollocks” meant.  I remember carefully writing down the words “dog’s bollocks” in my notebook and promising the customer that I will get back to him on the bollocks issue…

Dog’s bollocks means dog’s testicles, but in British slang usage it means very good, or the top of the pile.  Really.  Think bee’s knees or cat’s pyjamas. On the other hand when the word bollocks is used by itself, it means rubbish.  Or nuts.

A Lotus Eclat guards the entrance to Dog’s Bollocks

Dog’s can famously lick their own testicles.  Through the ages men have been fascinated and/or jealous of this canine capability.  I never did get around to getting Nigel Wood’s personal perspective on testicles as we chatted inside his restaurant, The Dog’s Bollocks in Cape Town, South Africa.  This is currently the hottest ticket in Cape Town, a burger restaurant in a garage/drive way.  The October 2012 UK edition of Esquire magazine lists it as one of the top ten attractions in Cape Town. They take no reservations and open from “5 to 50″.  Nigel starts serving at 5PM and stops when he’s served 50 burgers. After that he pushes the tables back to make room in the garage for his one-eyed 1970′s Lotus Eclat.  (The Eclat has a vacuum seal that keeps the pop-up headlamps shut.  If the car is left parked for a while, the vacuum leaks and one headlight pops open. Cute.)

The entrance to the restaurant is literally the garage door.  The tin roof has a few translucent plastic panels to let in light.  The long narrow space is broken up by a grill where the famous burgers are cooked.  Tucked away to a side is a branch of Deluxe Coffee Works, the artisanal coffee roasters in Cape Town.  A tiny motorbike repair shop also shares the space.  Customers of the coffee shop regularly ride their scooters and motorbikes into the store.  Its all uber trendy and slightly nuts.

Bikes and coffee next door at Deluxe Coffee Works

The garage roof leaks when it rains.  It was raining hard when I visited with Capetonian friends including the Cupcake (she’s sweet and she bakes well) and the Princess Monkey (she’s titled and she’s nuts).  The sloping garage floor was soon awash with rain water.  Nigel kindly showed us to a “good table” where we’d get less wet.  A waitress hurriedly unplugged a floor lamp.  Eventually someone donned galoshes and splashed across to fire up the grill.  The restaurant is BYOB except for wine.  Nigel bottles his own red and white in tubes and sells them under the U-Tube label (by Ukuva iAfrica).  It’s big in Poland, apparently. At Dog’s Bollocks the wine is served in conventional bottles at R55 (GB£4 or US$6 ).  I ordered a bottle of red.  Nigel gave me a bottle and said “here’s the wine, there are some glasses, here’s a corkscrew.”   The service is delightfully quirky, as is everything else about the place.   The restaurant serves different menus through the day – and is called different names at different times.  At breakfast the restaurant is called Mucky Mary’s Hubcap.  At lunch time it’s called The Bitch’s Tits.  Hubcaps, tits and testicles –  only in Africa!

Nigel preps his burgers

The burgers are amazing.  They are served on enormous, light as air rolls with what must be half a head of lettuce, onions, tomato and pickle.  The secret is in the home made sauces.  Mexican chocolate mole, pepperberry and blue cheese, and prego (a spicy Portuguese sauce) are standouts.  The table went quiet as we greedily tucked in.  I had the prego sauce and felt the spice gradually build up on my taste buds as beads of sweat broke out on my forehead.  The burgers are so large that once you man-handle them into your mouth you don’t want the hassle of putting them back down and figuring out how to pick them up again.  We inhaled our food.

Dog’s Bollocks is a symbol of how South Africa would like to see itself; multicultural, irreverent and re-inventing itself as it goes along.  Yet roofs and more leak all over the country.  I can’t tell whether we are seeing the birthing pains of a great African state or witnessing the last days of empire.  Either way it’s a fascinating place to visit.  Go! It’s the dog’s bollocks.

Further Reading and Drinking

The hot cocktail bar of the moment in Cape Town is The Orphanage.  An unfortunate choice of name perhaps but it is on Orphan Street and a share of profits do go to the orphanage up the road.  My favourite place for a post prandial drink however, is the bar at the Mount Nelson hotel where old world colonial glamour meets some of the most hospitable bar staff I’ve met.  The Old Fashioned’s and the Hendrick’s Cucumber Martinis they make are particularly good.

Blogger My Love Affair with Cape Town wishes to keep Dog’s Bollocks a secret so it wouldn’t get too crowded.  A common lament.  Sheila Allen talks about her love affair with burgers in Cape Town Alive.

Cock Shots and the Candidates: The US Election Issue

The US election season is upon us. Americans get to choose between pachyderms and donkeys. The rest of the world looks on with a fascination normally reserved for train wrecks.

On the left we have a chap who can make a great stump speech, but has spent four years proving that he can’t manage his way out of a paper bag. On the right we have an enormously competent manager who can’t figure out what he stands for and might be hewn from wood.

Democrats by and large have a Calvinist view of the world. They buy dolls and kitchen sets for their boys, so they grow up free of gender stereotypes…and sexually confused.  They wear sandals with socks, hug trees and like holding hands and singing Kumbaya. They adore European style welfare and find it sooo romantic that French unions go on strike every summer. They secretly wish America was more like France, but where the citizenry washed more often and the neighbours weren’t German.

Republicans are at heart Hobbesian. Their boys play Cowboys and Indians, preferably with real guns. They like tea parties, god and golf. They know that people join unions because they have shitty jobs that should be outsourced to some poor foreign country, so foreigners wouldn’t come to America looking for shitty work and join unions. What they really want is a sepia toned version of America with Clint Eastwood as sheriff.

Damien Hirst’s Cock and Bull dominates the interior of the Tramshed

I was drinking a Cock Shot (Absolut vodka, chicken consommé, spices) and wondering if I’d buy one for either presidential candidate. Romney probably would be too embarrassed to say cock and doesn’t drink anyway. Obama would raise my taxes (somewhere along the way I picked up a US passport and now can’t get rid of it without paying off the Inland Revenue Service) so I probably can’t afford to buy him a drink. The Cock Shot was served in a frozen glass, which felt good on a hot summer’s day.  That was about the only good thing going for it.  The Cock Shot tasted awful, slightly salty and vaguely slimy on the tongue.  My female lunch companion drew the obvious analogy. I couldn’t decide whether to Ditch that Bitch (cassis and sparkling wine) or to buy her a Twitter & Bisted (pink grapefruit, Campari, sherry and sparkling wine).

In front of me was a plinth on which stood a whole cow with a rooster on it’s back – encased in a glass case filled with formaldehyde.  Damien Hirst is responsible for the rooster/cow vitrine (appropriately named Cock and Bull) and all the artwork at Tramshed, the new Mark Hix restaurant in Shoreditch.  The artwork signals the only two things you can order at the restaurant – chicken or steak.

The Tramshed occupies a visually stunning space.  Built in 1905 as a electricity generating station for trams, it is a light, high ceilinged space with a bar on one side and a gallery at the back.  There are original two-toned tiled walls and mosaic flooring.  It is industrial chic where the soaring scale of the space helps it escape looking like a 1990’s cliché.  I liked the feel of the place.  The crowd was a mix of hipsters from Shoreditch and pin striped bankers. They all seemed to get along.

One needs to be reminded from time to time that chicken, that most ordinary of birds, can taste exceptional when cooked well.  The bird is presented upside down impaled on a stake with whole clawed feet scratching the air.  Vegetarians look away.  Actually, don’t bother coming here if you are a vegetarian – or if you don’t like steak or chicken for that matter.  There really isn’t anything else to eat, although you can apparently order something that cows might like to eat, off menu. The sirloin is nicely marbled and aged for 28 days in a Himalayan salt chamber (don’t ask).  It’s delicious, but good, expensive steak is not hard to find in London these days.  Order to share in 250g, 500g, 750g or 1kg portions.  The tomato salad I ordered on the side was amazing.  The gnarly organic tomatoes filled the mouth with moist bursts of flavor with chunks of cheddar adding a sharp counterpoint.

A cute touch on the cocktail menu

While the Cock Shot was disappointing the cocktail list is actually rather good.  At first sip the aforementioned Twitter & Bisted (pink grapefruit, Campari, sherry and sparkling wine) tasted like a fizzy cosmopolitan.  Then the nice layered complexity of a well made cocktail came in, with a hint of dry bitterness from the Campari and the smoky aftertaste of the sherry.  The Temperley Sour (Somerset apple brandy, lemon juice, Bramley apple juice and egg white) has a sinuously silky texture, with the sweetness of the apple nicely offset by the tartness of the lemon juice.  There’s a good selection of boutique beers and a fun selection of new world wines.  Battery hen cages (the insides of which the free range chicken on the menu has never seen, although it probably doesn’t care, now that you just ate it) line the entrance, filled with off sales of wine.  There is a bar menu and a well priced take away menu.

Mark Hix has opened seven restaurants in the last four years.  They all have well sourced ingredients, a fresh take on British food and inventive cocktails.  They’re all doing well. His friend Damien Hirst has collaborated on the artwork.  Both friends are having good recessions.  Hirst has done particularly well by preserving various species (including some nasty looking sharks) in formaldehyde, where we can look at them, but they can do us no harm.  Perhaps its time he tried out his art form on some politicians…

Further Reading

London Girl About Town discusses the nearby White Cube Gallery in her review of Tramshed.  The blogger Fifteen Pickles and a Purple Plum has some mouth watering images of the food at Tramshed.  Whether it is bisteca alla Florentina or a bife de chorizo,  there are many variants of fine steak.  Here’s a good discussion on what makes a good steak restaurant from Forbes Traveller.  If you are fond of lists this top ten list of the world’s best steak houses covers the big ones from Peter Luger’s in Brooklyn to Cabana Las Lilas in Buenos Aires.  For steak in London I also like Hawksmoor, particularly their Seven Dials location in Covent Garden.  Goodman provides a properly masculine steak experience and the Argentinian steak at Gaucho is consistently good – particularly at their rather delectable waterfront location in Richmond. Moo!

HIX at The Tramshed on Urbanspoon

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The Porn Issue: Fifty Shades of Martinis

The Olympics are over. It’s been rather good – typically quirky, occasionally brilliant and thoroughly British. The underground transport system, the world’s oldest, didn’t fall over. The weather wasn’t awful. The TV coverage was full of Brits bringing home medals. What you didn’t see on TV however, is what went on in the Olympic Village. Take over ten thousand body beautiful, incredibly fit, highly charged men and women and put them together, far from home. Have them abstain from sex before competition as part of their training regime. Then pull the plug. Distribute 150,000 condoms, stir in an atmosphere of celebration and you get one randy party! There was a serious amount of very athletic sex going on in Stratford.

“That” Durex condom advertisement for the London Olympics

Sex was on my mind as I read the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy I had been sent to review. Unless you’ve been on another planet it’s hard to ignore the publishing phenomenon of British writer E.L.James’s “mommy porn”. The books are on best seller lists on both sides of the Atlantic. Film rights have been negotiated for all three books. Over five million copies have been sold in the UK alone – making it a bigger seller than the Harry Potter books. Boy wizards are no match for horny women. Publishing Houses are hailing the birth of a new genre of literature and introducing dozens of smutty new women authors to our bookshelves.

Fifty Shades of Grey is porn for women, written (rather poorly) by a woman. Apparently most porn is poorly written, so no one is unduly worried about the quality of the writing.

The book is about a pretty young thing who is finishing college in America. She meets a young, devilishly handsome billionaire. She is a virgin; they apparently still make them at American universities. He has an interesting side line in S&M and does things with whips and handcuffs that would make a virgin blush. Before long our heroine is cuffed, whipped and deflowered. Her inner goddess (apparently every woman has one) responds by turning joyful somersaults. They have regular, slightly kinky sex for two more volumes with a few jealous females and bad guys showing up every few chapters.

The gentlemen who run the world’s publishing houses have woken up to the fact that women are sexual creatures. The question is, are women merely comfortable being seen reading porn on public transport or are there now whips and handcuffs in every woman’s bedside drawer, nestling amongst the usual battery operated emergency kit? Are women beginning to think about sex every 3 seconds the way men do?

Who knows what lies beyond the door marked “come”?

To investigate, I took a posse of women friends to a Soho sex shop. The neon signs promised adult video, peep shows and private dances. Above the door a sign said “come”. As one reviewer put it, it’s the kind of place where you expect to see sad looking men with stained shoes leaving furtively, clutching at brown paper bags full of bouncing boobs. You want to shout at them, “Yo mate, it’s 2012, go try the Internet. Full of boobs!”

Friendly young things in fishnets, feathered trilbies and not much else, greeted us warmly. My women friends were nervous. Downstairs in the dimly lit basement, the decor was surreal. There were upturned pianos, children’s furniture hanging from the ceiling, taxidermy, curtained off alcoves and what might have been voodoo dolls. The sound system was pumping out a sexy mix of old school rock and salsa.

We were at La Bodega Negra, the Mexican restaurant whose party trick involves the aforementioned entrance (Bodega Negra also has a cafe next door with a more conventional entrance). It is the brainchild of “cultural engineer” Serge Becker who also created La Esquina in New York City. The women visibly relaxed as we ordered our first round of margaritas. The bar stocks eight good brands of tequila in 22 variants. Tapatio and Herradura Seleccion Suprema occupy the top shelf. There is a short wine list and a selection of very good Mexican beers.

The slightly disturbing decor at La Bodega Negra

Five of the eight cocktails on the menu are mezcal/tequila based. The standard margaritas were watery and frankly disappointing. We sent them back and ordered a few more cocktails. The Pepino, which is twist on a margarita with added cucumber water and jalapeno had a decent spicy kick. The ancho mojito substitutes mezcal/tequila for rum and tonic water for soda. It was complex and tasty – a successful reinterpretation of the standard mojito.

Some of the food was very good. Other dishes were passable. The spicy yellow fin tuna ceviche had mouth filling flavour. Crab tostaditas were piled high with flavourful fresh crab meat, adding coriander, mango and lime as garnish. The BBQ octopus el negro was briny and tender – a standout dish. Seared steak tacos and the chorizo/squash/corn taco didn’t do much for me. The steak had little flavour and the chorizo didn’t add the punch to the squash/corn combination that it should have. The pork belly with mezcal and salsa verde brought welcome touches of new flavour to what has become a cliched restaurant dish.

La Bodega Negra is a fun “occasion” restaurant. The service is superb, the music is good and the atmosphere is hip and on trend. It doesn’t have the best Mexican food and drink in London – I still prefer the tiny Crazy Homies in Notting Hill. What La Bodega Negra does offer is a fun night out, at least for two hours before they turn your table over…

By the time we were ready to leave my female friends had forgotten about the sex shop entrance. They thought it was confusing and didn’t really want the whole edgy sex thing. They’d all read Fifty Shades but it was all firmly shelved under fantasy. We wandered across to Ronnie Scott’s for some old school jazz and a bottle of champagne. This was much more their style. Mine too.

Further Reading

La Bodega Negra gets mixed reviews from Bloggers.  A Rather Unusual Chinaman and Lay My Table have interesting perspectives.  A sexy alternative for dinner in London is the Playboy Club – yes, it’s back, complete with bunny girls! You don’t have to be a member to use the restaurant.  If you are in the mood for something naughtier, check out the Evening Standard’s guide to London’s sexiest places for illicit liaisons. The Evening Standard also has guides to the sexiest places for exhibitionists, fetishists and….intellectuals.  Have fun!

La Bodega Negra on Urbanspoon

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