Tag Archives: martini

Martinis, Marathons and Getting Gingered Up

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"The Most Beautiful Marathon in the World"

“The World’s Most Beautiful Marathon”

“To believe this story you must believe that the human race be one joyous family, working together, laughing together, achieving the impossible. Last Sunday, in one of the most trouble-stricken cities in the world, 11,532 men and women from 40 countries in the world, assisted by over a million black, white and yellow people, laughed, cheered and suffered during the greatest folk festival the world has seen”

Olympic champion Chris Brasher wrote these words after running the New York City marathon in 1979.  He went on to found the London Marathon, the biggest marathon in the world.

Endurance runners are a bunch of weirdos who volunteer to undergo serious pain for hours.  I’m one of them.  I figure it’s a sort of karmic suffering, to offset the martinis I drink every evening. Once an oddity, marathons are now a cause for city-wide celebrations wherever they are held.  The outrage caused by the attack on the Boston marathon was felt not just by Bostonians and Americans but by runners around the world.

Thoughts of outrage were far from my mind as I lined up with 10,000 other pain junkies on a chilly morning in Cape Town.  We were running the Two Ocean’s Ultra Marathon – a gorgeous 35 mile (56k) trot from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic. The race covers a hilly coastal route which snakes around the Cape of Good Hope. It is arguably one of the most beautiful races in the world and has long been on my bucket list.  My support team included mum, sis, brother in law, 5 year old nephew and a group of friends including an African Queen, a party hostess with a van (great for lying down in after the race) and Voldemort, the German masseuse.

Marathoners in Africa face unique challenges.  Last year a runner was hurt by rock throwing baboons.  The South Africans are a tough lot.  While most of them run in takkies (South African slang for sneakers or trainers), I came across a bunch of barefoot runners.  They weren’t some hunter gatherer types from the bush either, but slightly overweight middle class white people…

Runners greet pain like an old friend.  We wait for him to cross the road, meeting him halfway.  He runs alongside us, sometimes in the background, but always there.  He mocks us as our legs start cramping.  Six hours later I beat him and went out for a martini.

Il Leone Mastrantonio

Il Leone Mastrantonio

Pre race I focused on carb loading. After the race, my mind was on martinis.  For carb loading I visited two stand-out Italian restaurants in Cape Town –  Societi Bistro and Il Leone Mastrantonio.  Of the two Societi is a lighter, more modern interpretation of Italian cuisine, while Il Leone is more traditional. Off Orange Street in the Gardens district the Societi Bistro has a simple yet modern Italian menu with an emphasis on fresh ingredients.  The homemade spaghetti with truffle oil was delicious as was a simple salad of roasted figs and fior di latte (fresh buffalo mozzarella).

Il Leone Mastrantonio is in the district known as De Waterkant (say it with a straight face).  Il Leone is the grande dame of Italian restaurants in Cape Town.  It is pretty straightforward Italian fare served in a traditional, smartish, yet family friendly atmosphere.  The home made ravioli and rib of beef was the perfect pre race dinner.

Gorgeous red lacquered bar at Tjing Tjing

Gorgeous red lacquered bar at Tjing Tjing

The Cape Town Jazz festival kicked off after the ultra marathon and I hung out for some cool tunes and cocktails at the rooftop bar at Tjing Tjing on Longmarket Street.  Longmarket is a street favoured by students; lined with bars, backpacker hotels and massage parlours.  Three floors above street level, Tjing Tjing is an Asian inspired rooftop oasis, with inventive cocktails made from behind a shiny red lacquered bar.

Ginger is the new sexy ingredient in cocktails.  The term “gingering up” (or sexing up) came from the old gypsy habit of inserting ginger up a horse’s arse to make it appear frisky and alert while being inspected for sale.  The Ginger Ninja at the Tjing Tjing bar had vodka, grenadine, pineapple juice, bitters, ginger and lime.  The pineapple added sweetness, but the kick came from the ginger, offset by orangey grenadine flavours. There was no horsing about here – this is a nicely made drink.

The Jelly Baby was made with vanilla vodka, Cointreau, pomegranate juice, lemon juice and yes, jelly babies.  There was a candy like sweetness to the drink, offset by the tartness of the lemon juice.  It is an improbable sounding drink, but it grows on you.  If you are a girl.

Stunning Presentation of a Ginseng and Ginger Martini at the Pot Luck Club

Stunning Presentation of a Ginger & Ginseng Martini at the Pot Luck Club

The highlight of my culinary and cocktail tour of Cape Town was the Pot Luck Club at the Old Biscuit Mill in the Woodstock district.  Built at the top of a grain silo that serviced the former biscuit mill, the Pot Luck Club is a superb Asian fusion restaurant with stunning views.  There was more ginger in the cocktails here.  I had a Sake Cocktail with ginger, lemon grass and passion fruit.  This was a very successful blending of flavours, with the lemon grass and passion fruit combining to add a hint of bitterness, while the ginger left a nice after burn in the throat.

The Ginger & Ginseng martini is a stunning looking cocktail, the liquid made cloudy with ginger, served in an antique goblet with a  garnish of preserved ginger.  The ginger overwhelmed the ginseng however, making for a spicy cocktail lacking in complexity.

Sake, Campari, Watermelon.

Sake Compressed Watermelon with Blood Orange Sorbet and Bitter Campari Jellies at the Pot Luck Club

The big hit of the night was an alcoholic dessert.  Watermelon is infused with sake and then compressed until it turns jelly-like in consistency.  It is accompanied by blood orange sorbet and bitter Campari jellies.  This is a bitter dessert that looks a bit like a living thing and tastes divine.

South Africa is home to several great road races.  Apart from the Two Ocean’s there is the Comrade’s 56 mile (90k) race between Durban and Pietermaritzburg.  This is the world’s oldest and largest ultramarathon race.  I politely declined the offer to run in place of a friend in this year’s race.  Perhaps next year…

Other

A big thank you to Kensington Place, my favourite boutique hotel in Cape Town.  Austen Johnson and his team took care of all my marathon prep including a cooked breakfast delivered to my room at 3am, plus carb snacks for the race.  Meeting points for my support crew were carefully mapped out and taxis arranged.  It is a hotel I go back to often!

The Lion, the Witch, and the Drinks They Found in a Wardrobe

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Poverty fascinates the middle classes. Writers and artists seek to interpret and chronicle it. Liberals ritualise it to connect with their inner bleeding heartedness. Legions of cute young things would have nothing to do if NGOs didn’t exist to save the wretched from themselves (and their governments).

Poverty and the slums of Victorian England have a peculiar fascination, both as a sociological commentary on the industrial revolution and for their particularly rich literary chronicling by Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Arthur Conan Doyle and others. In London where the winds blow predominantly from the west, the factories were located in the poor east end. Today, the eastern parts of London remain ghastly, although fashionable amongst the young who don’t know any better, and starving artists who can’t afford any better. It’s not a bad place to find a drink, because most people who live there need one.

Stylish Pantone Card Drinks List. Each QR codesconnects to a YouTube clip describing the drink

Stylish Pantone Card Drinks List at Callooh Callay. Each QR code connects to a YouTube clip describing the drink.

I wandered through the streets of East London recently in the gathering gloom, searching for a bar named Callooh Callay. A couple of older queens leered at me, looking like a pair of pedarastic Anglican bishops who’d been locked up in a distillery all night. I was glad to locate my drinking companion the Zebra Striped Gourmand, a man who makes his own bitters and butchers his own meat.   A handy friend to have if you ever need to dismember someone and dissolve them in alcohol…

Callooh Callay is an exclamation of joy from Lewis Carroll’s nonsensical rhyme Jabberwocky. Literature and intoxicants are well known bedfellows. Earnest Hemingway and Ian Fleming were mostly sozzled or pleasantly on their way there when they wrote their best works. Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland is a delightfully lucid acid trip.

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At Callooh Callay one steps into a dark room decorated with lunatic flair.  There are gramophones in the window bays, wacky lampshades and a large antique wardrobe in the back of the room.  The toilets are lined with cassette tapes.  The crowd is uber-hip, full of the aforementioned artists and young people who inhabit the neighborhood.  I ordered the Ale of Two Cities, a drink consisting of feijova vodka (feijova is also called pineapple guava and tastes like a combination of the two), Punt e Mes (a brownish Italian vermouth with a bitter flavor), fresh lime and apple juices, Angostura bitters and malt syrup (made from malted barley).  That’s a lot going on in a glass.  It is served in a beer mug and bizarrely tastes like ale with honey and lime tasting notes.  It’s a pleasant drink – the ale illusion even leaves a bit of creamy head on your upper lip.

For our next drink we stepped through the wardrobe at the end of the room.  Yes, this is the bar’s big party trick. On the other side was not the land of Narnia but another bar with even more bonkers décor.  Two bathtubs converted into sofas face each other.  A giant overstuffed candy striped armchair sits under a metal palm tree.  One expects the Mad Hatter to be holding court.  We ordered a round of Peresphone, a cocktail made of tequila, Punt e Mes and Mozart black chocolate liqueur.  Named after the wife of Hades this is a drink that has sweet lavender and vanilla notes with a wicked chilli kick at the the end.

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There is a third room, the member’s only Jub Jub bar which hosts a different bartender each week and seats just ten.  The Zebra Striped Gourmand is naturally a member.  Calooh Calay has a reputation for superb cocktails and a truly exemplary collection of alcohol.  We tasted some superb rums including a Santa Teresa (Venezuelan, rich and complex) and a 12 year old Eldorado (Guyanian demerrera rum with rich molasses flavours).  These are fine rums to be drunk neat or on the rocks.  There is a food menu to soak up the alcohol.  The fare is straightforward (burgers, fish cakes, hot dogs), but tasty.

If you fancy a walk on the wild side, visit Callooh Callay.  The literary pretensions may put some people off, but the drinks will have you galumphing back, chortling in joy!

Calloh Callay on Urbanspoon

Square Meal

Go Ask Alice

A place like Callooh Callay lends itself to blogging.  The  Cocktail Geek covers the Jub Jub bar in more detail.  If you are moved to read Lewis Carroll’s poem Jabberwocky you’ll find it here.  Jefferson Airplane’s psychedelic 1967 anthem White Rabbit celebrates Lewis Carroll with the lyric “When the men on the chessboard get up / And tell you where to go / And you’ve just had some kind of mushroom / And your mind is moving low / Go ask Alice, I think she’ll know.”  There’s a beautifully atmospheric video clip of them performing here featuring Grace Slick in her contralto prime.

Vodka Infused Kitty

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Muscle wrapped in metal. There isn't a single bad angle to the Shelby Cobra

Muscle wrapped in metal. There isn’t a single bad angle to the Shelby Cobra

I used to worry about the environment until I realised that switching to long life lightbulbs was pointless as long as nations kept dropping uranium out of the sky.  If I must leave a large carbon footprint I vowed to have fun doing so.  Laying down long tracks of burnt rubber on asphalt is fun.  Doing so in an iconic Shelby Cobra along one of the world’s most spectacular driving roads, Chapman’s Peak Drive in South Africa, is automotive nirvana.

Chapman’s Peak Drive is a toll road from Hout Bay to Noordhoek on the way to the Cape of Good Hope.  It consists of nine kilometres and 114 curves hugging the near vertical face of the mountain.  I had spectacular views of the Atlantic on my right as the bellow of 5 litres of pure V8 power echoed off the mountain face.  The massive tyres screamed in protest and scrambled for grip as I hung on to the steering for dear life, my face split by a huge grin!

Chapman's Peak Drive. Perhaps the most beautiful marine drive in the world.

Chapman’s Peak Drive. Perhaps the most beautiful marine drive in the world.

The Shelby Cobra was the brainchild of American racing driver Carroll Shelby who bolted on a powerful American Ford engine to the pretty but underpowered British AC Ace sports car in 1962.  This fine example of Anglo American cooperation resulted in one of the most beautiful cars ever built.  Original cars now cost upwards of $500,000 (£315,000) but Shelby subsequently licensed production to several manufacturers, including Superformance Cars of South Africa who continue building Cobras.

Dean at Cape Cobra Hire is a friendly Brit who used to work on Eddie Jordan’s Formula One race team.  He described the car as “a four wheel Harley Davidson”.  He’s right.  You carefully step over side mounted exhausts to enter the car (you’ll burn if you touch them).  Stick your arm out the door and you can feel the heat rising from the exhausts.  The horn on my car was broken but it didn’t matter.  Small children cry and dog’s run away when they hear the car’s basso rumble.   There is no roof.  When it rains you get wet.  Who cares when you are having this much fun.

On the way to Chapman’s Peak I pulled over for coffee at The Grand on the strip in Camp’s Bay where Capetonians come to play.  The verandah is the perfect place to watch the beautiful people.  The Grand has a single uber decadent bedroom with 24 hour butler service and what it claims is the world’s largest mini bar. Parking touts eagerly waved the Cobra in.  Despite its muscular stance the Cobra is suprisingly easy to thread through traffic, being far narrower than most modern sports cars.  It also helps that you can clearly see all four corners of the car from the driver’s seat.  It’s practical then for city use…

Chef Franck Dangereaux's philosophy

Chef Franck Dangereaux’s philosophy

At the behest of my running buddy and neighbour in London I stopped for lunch at the Food Barn in Noerdhook.  This modest thatched roofed restaurant set in what was once a farm store, is the most talked about bistro in Capetown.  Cannes born chef Franck Dangereux creates a fusion of Provencal, Moroccan, Middle Eastern and Pan Asian elements – yet sources all his ingredients locally.  Dangereux trained at Moulin de Mougins in Cannes with Roger Verge.  Alain Ducasse also once trained there.  Dangereux worked at two 3 Michelin starred restaurants in Paris before eventually moving to Cape Town.

The food at his restaurant is quintessential haute cuisine, served in the most laid back environment.  The prawn beignets and cheese fritter with tomato macaroon was a mash up of flavours at once familiar but foreign in their combination.  I’d never eaten a tomato macaroon and wouldn’t have believed it would taste anything but strange.  It was delightful.  As was the waitress, who thoughtfully gifted me a box of the said macaroons as I was leaving.  The deconstructed bouillabaisse with local line fish, calamari and prawns, served with a rouille sauce and cheese croutons was sinfully rich.  The cheese croutons added just a hint of crunchy sharpness.

Franck's food. Prawn beignets and cheese fritter with tomato macaroon at the Food Barn

Franck’s food. Prawn beignets and cheese fritter with tomato macaroon at the Food Barn

Dangereaux pairs all his dishes with local wines.  If like me you’ve tired of run of the mill, highly acidic Sauvignon Blancs (the equivalent of paying rent on a bar stool these days), try the South Africans.  Porcupine Ridge, Buitenverwachting, Iona Sophie Terblanche, Robertson and Jordan all make superb Sauvignon Blancs full of that pungent, grassy, leafy aroma, with the quintessential acidity of the grape offset by a soft finish in the mouth.  Majestic Wine has a good selection of South African wines in London while Astor Wines and Spirits is the place to go in New York City.

After a punishing day of hard driving on heart stoppingly beautiful roads, I met the race car driving oenophile in Cape Town for a casual dinner at HQ.  HQ is located in Heritage Square (circa 1771).  In keeping with the global trend towards single food menus HQ serves steak and nothing else, apart from salad and chips.  This is a popular casual restaurant with a nice buzzy vibe.  With so few options on the menu the waiter still managed to mix up our order (with or without gravy can’t be that hard to remember) when he wasn’t forgetting about us altogether.  I’ve had way better chips in places that don’t claim to specialise in them.  Someone please introduce these guys to double and triple cooked chips.  The food and service was erratic.

The saving grace of HQ is the cocktail list.  It’s original and eclectic.  The Spider Bite; jalapeño infused vodka, gomme and fresh lime was spicy and seriously hot. It was served in a martini glass with salt on the rim.  The VIP (Vodka Infused Pussy) was a cocktail of citron vodka muddled with lots of limes, cucumber and mint, charged with Pussy.  The refreshing citrus notes were reminiscent of a caipirinha.

Can this drink make it without word play?

Can this brand make it without word play?

So what’s with the Pussy? Pussy is a British made all-natural energy drink.  It’s citrus tasting although some might find it somewhat tasteless.  Its tagline is “the drink is pure, it’s your mind that’s the problem.” I’m not sure the world really needs another energy drink.

More Ways to Go

If two wheels is more your thing, down the road from Cape Cobra Hire on Buintengraght is Royal Enfield Cape Town where you can rent an authentic Indian made bone shaker.  There are more environmentally friendly ways to travel the Chapman’s Peak Drive.  Bike it as part of the Cape Argus Classic 110K (62 mile) bike race or run it at the Two Ocean’s Ultra Marathon,  a 56k (35 miles) trot from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic.

Merry Christmas! Happy Hangovers!

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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

Serendipity is a Tamarind Martini

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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.

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

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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

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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

Square Meal

Why We Love Britain

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The Olympic Opening Ceremony in London was quintessentially British and bonkers. It was completely chaotic at times, like a flash mob running wild. At other times it felt like the world’s biggest inside joke. As I watched, I wondered whether it made any sense to people outside the UK. On occasion I worried that the whole thing would descend into expensive anarchy. Yet, somehow it worked. Somehow it appears to have charmed the world.

The Queen-tessential image of the Opening Ceremony

What outsiders may not realize is that the whole country runs a bit like the Olympic opening ceremony. Britain seems to always be on the verge of breaking down chaotically, but somehow soldiers on rather charmingly. Its economy, its politicians, its sports teams, its infrastructure all appear ready to implode. Yet, the country gives it the old college try, fixes itself another gin & tonic and muddles through.

The UK is an enormously creative place. In an Olympic year it was pointed out that eight of the top ten global sports were invented here. It doesn’t mean that the UK is actually good at any of them.

Take football (a.k.a. soccer), the national sport. It seemingly has a bigger budget than the Department of Defense. Yet, England hasn’t won a trophy since 1966 (to be fair neither has the Department of Defense unless you count the Falklands). English football lurches from crisis to crisis; the manager is fired because he can’t speak English, the captain is fired for sleeping with another player’s girlfriend, a star player pays grandmothers for sex. You can’t make this stuff up. Yet, the adoring fans keep the faith and the sport muddles on: as does the rest of the country.

However, this quirky place really does have the stuff of genius. Some of the most revolutionary ideas were born here, from the steam engine to the World Wide Web (unless you are American and believe that Al Gore invented everything). Yet, while the British are good at coming up with great ideas, it usually takes an American, a Japanese or a Chinese to figure out how to make money at it. The British inventor eventually gets to meet the Queen.

Despite all of this, or perhaps because of it, London is a delightful place to live. It continues to welcome foreign people, ideas and capital – long after New York City wrapped itself in a frightened, protective cloak. It is cosmopolitan; 34% of Londoners are foreign born, more than half have a foreign born parent. The art galleries and museums are free, the bars and restaurants are top notch and if you get tired of the weather – continental Europe is at your doorstep. Having lived all over the world, I moved here some 15 years ago and can’t imagine living anywhere else.

The sun was shining and all was right with the world when I invited a group of British friends to a Martini Mandate vodka tasting. Each brought along a boutique vodka; Potocki (Poland), Belvedere Intense (Poland), Adnam’s Longshore (UK), Chase (UK) and Crystal Skull (Canada). I provided Grey Goose (France) as a flavor benchmark. This was an international selection, reflecting vodka’s standing as the world’s most popular spirit – remarkable given that vodka was not consumed outside Europe before the 1950s.

The Martini Mandate Vodka Test. From Left to Right; Chase, Adnam’s Longshore, Belvedere Intense, Crystal Skull, Potocki, Grey Goose

Long Tall Sally arrived at the martini tasting straight off a flight from Asia. The other drinkers included Mini Me, the Rugger Bugger, Snow White (she has a thing for dwarves) and the Lasher (the only straight man to wear false eyelashes). They are all good friends and serious martini drinkers.

We started with prosecco whose slightly sweeter bubbles work well with spicier foods. I had used mum’s recipes to prepare several Sri Lankan dishes, while getting my countrymen at the Hopper Hut in Wembley to make stringhoppers (a steamed vermicelli made with rice flour, formed into discs) and a rather special cashew curry. Our stomachs suitably lined we got down to the serious business of drinking…

The Potocki Rye Vodka (established 1784) won our taste test hands down. The vodka is unfiltered and distilled just twice to prevent the flavours being stripped away. My friends described Potocki vodka as rounded, with a good aroma. My lasting impression is of a creamy smoothness. Several mentioned the flavor of the rye itself as a tasting note.

Proving that there is no right way to make a good vodka, Crystal Skull vodka is quadruple distilled and then filtered six times – three times through charcoal and three times through diamond chips. Skull came a solid second in our taste test, being described as complex and crisp. Dan Akroyd, star of the Blues Brothers and Ghostbusters, produces the vodka. The bottle, in the shape of a human skill, has something to do with the legend of the 13 crystal skulls. You can view Akroyd’s explanation here. He may have been drinking.

The Taste Testers somehow ended up on the roof amongst the chimney pots

Grey Goose the first super premium vodka, took third place. This is still the benchmark vodka; the flavor is clean, full in the mouth and evenly balanced on the tongue. Chase, which took fourth place in our test is my favourite potato vodka. I find potato vodkas to be extremely creamy, especially in a martini. Chase is made by William Chase, a man who knows his spuds, having made his first fortune making Tyrrells crisps.

Adnam’s uses barley, wheat and oats in making their Finest Cut Longshore vodka which came fifth in our test. Adnam’s is best know for its beers; ales have been brewed at its site in Suffolk since 1345. I like their vodka, it is a complex mouthful of flavor with an undercurrent of toffee. It is polarizing, however. Several of my friends found the three grain wash made the flavor too complex for their liking, commenting that “there was too much going on” in one glass.

We didn’t like the Belvedere Intense vodka. It has an intense, over-fermented flavor with a trace of anise that was not pleasant on the tongue.

The last word: my 18 year old daughter happened upon the taste testing and was encouraged to provide some input. She politely tasted all the expensive vodkas on offer and opined – “They don’t taste that different. I’m a student. I like whichever’s cheapest.” This is either an inter-generational difference of opinion or someone just noticed the emperor’s new clothes!

Wherever you may be, enjoy the Olympics! If you are in London, enjoy this most fabulous city. Many of the vodkas mentioned can be tasted at the bars mentioned in The Best of London: Olympic Edition. Cheers!

Further Reading

If you are interested in conducting your own testing or wish for a more data driven approach Find the Best has some excellent statistics.

The Best of London – Olympic Edition

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The Olympians are in London!  I see them walking the streets ready to chase their dreams. Good luck to them all!  As the motto says, citius, altius, fortius; faster, higher, stronger!  Thrill us. We will share your joys, shed your tears, but most of all we will prepare to be amazed.

Now for the rest of you who are here to witness the spectacle, a few words of advice. You are not athletes. You really should not wear sporting attire, especially if the furthest you’ve run recently is to the refrigerator door.   Sneakers should not be seen outside the gymnasium. It is not acceptable to wear baseball caps indoors.

This is an exciting city with some wonderful bars and restaurants.  Please frequent them.  I know it is exciting for you to be here. Please contain yourself.  We don’t really need to hear your conversation. Yes we know London is expensive and it rains a lot. We really don’t need you to tell us that either.  I know you love your kids. I love mine too. I leave them at home when I go out.  All decent hotels in London have babysitting services.  They employ very beautiful Eastern European girls who speak no English, so your kids won’t bother them.

The Tower Bridge proudly displays the Olympic rings

When the sun is shining in London, as it is now, there is no finer city in the world.  Despite their stiff upper lips, the natives are friendly.  Be warned however, that they will drink you under the table.  Have a helluva time! Here are my current favourite bars and restaurants:

The best martini in London is to be had at Dukes Hotel. This is a tiny hotel and the bar is a small traditional affair. All the tables are marked reserved.  Allesandro Palazzi, the bartender, will size you up.  If you are a serious drinker there is already a table reserved for you. If you order something silly like white wine they’ll banish you to a lesser bar. Ian Fleming sat here and wrote Casino Royale.  Legend has it that the phrase “shaken not stirred” was invented here.  Don’t even think about taking your kids.

Another favourite martini haunt is the Connaught Bar at the Connaught hotel.  It is only open in the evening.  The Dukes Hotel is for serious drinkers.  The Connaught is for serious drinkers to see and be seen. It is glamourous.  They have an excellent range of home made bitters with which they will delicately flavour your martini.  I like the lavender bitters in a Plymouth Gin martini. If you want to taste a £40 ($60) martini ask for their super premium vodkas.

Some of you may make it to London with someone you actually like versus someone you happen to get married to after you got drunk together during senior week. Take the person you like on a cocktail date to the Beaufort Bar at the Savoy Hotel.  It’s dark and sexy, all black with gold leaf accents.  The cabaret stage features live music from a venue where the likes of George Gershwin broadcast over the then newly launched British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC).  There are 27 champagnes available by the glass.  The bar counter is by Rene Lalique.  The cocktails are serious.

The magnificent Beaufort Bar at the Savoy

If you want to explore a proper drinking den without venturing too far outside central London I recommend the Experimental Cocktail Club (ECC) in Chinatown.  The entrance is unremarkable except for the bouncer guarding it.  Upstairs are two floors of shabby chic, a combination of fin-de-siecle opulence and antique store finds.  The drinks are reasonably priced at £10 (US $16) although you can push the boat out and order a £150 (US $230) martini made with 1950′s Gordon’s Gin. I’m not sure gin actually improves with age – more likely its a marketing gimmick to take advantage of finding a case of unopened gin in granny’s attic.  The crowd is young, hip and beautiful.  Whilst you are in London do try the most exciting new spirits houses – Sipsmith and Sacred Spirits are both brewed in London and both make an excellent London Dry Gin.  Sipsmith also makes a very good vodka. Chase’s makes my favourite potato vodka. All of the bars mentioned in this article stock them.

London’s food scene is cosmopolitan and exciting.  Unfortunately most good restaurants get booked early.  Go in the early part of the week or book lunch which tends to be less crowded (and frequently better value).

If you are going out to eat in London you must taste the best of British cusine:

  • Fergus Henderson at St John Hotel near Leicester Square (plus his original Michelin starred St John Bar and Restaurant at the Smithfield’s).  Don’t take your muslim friends here.  Fergus celebrates eating the pig, every part of the pig, in what he calls “nose to tail eating”.  He serves up inner organs in big exhilarating dishes that combine high sophistication with peasant roughness.
  • Jason Atherton at Pollen Street Social in Mayfair.  Atherton won a Michelin star at Maze and it won’t be long before his solo venture receives the same accolade.  This is sophisticated but fun food, served in a bright space with great cocktails.  Moreover there is a bar where you can eat the same food if the restaurant can’t find you a table.
  • Mark Hix at Hix in Soho.  I also like his new restaurant Tramshed in Shoreditch.  There is a daily changing menu of seasonal British food.  The emphasis is on beef and shellfish, particularly oysters.  The art is by Damien Hirst and a revolving panoply of British talent.  The bar downstairs is exceptional (see my review in Bombay Rolls, Persian Lovers and a Bit of Hanky Panky)

Cigarette Girls in their prime at Quaglino’s

If you’ve forgotten to book early, look for a large restaurant with a bit more space.  My favourite last minute haunts are Quaglino’s in Mayfair and Le Pont de la Tour in Shad Thames (by the Tower Bridge). These are both establishment restaurants that have stood the test of time.  John le Carre’s spies met their handlers at Quaglino’s.  My friends in the intelligence community suggest it still is favoured by James Bond types.  The cigarette girls who sashay amongst the tables no longer offer cigarettes, but they still sashay.  Quaglino’s offers a classic brasserie menu.  Le Pont de la Tour offers a French menu, a waterfront setting and fabulous views of the Thames and Tower Bridge.  There are no cigarette girls at Le Pont de la Tour but the service is impeccable with an old world courtesy rarely seen in busy restaurants.

Before Margaret Thatcher kicked socialism into the long grass and put the Great back in Britain, the food here was atrocious.  It was said that the only edible food you could find in the UK was Indian.  London still has some of the best Indian food in the world.  Amaya in Knightsbridge serves some of the most creative Indian food in the world.  It is better than anything I’ve tasted in India, plus the waiters smell nicer.  Amaya was one of the first Indian restaurants in the world to be awarded a Michelin star.

If all else fails drop me a comment on this site and I’ll suggest some alternatives.  I’m keeping the home bar going for all visiting friends. No baseball caps please.

Further Reading

This fabulous tube map of some of London’s best cocktail bars was put together by the Gin Monkey.  Click for a larger image.  The list of bars mentioned is also available on Foursquare; handy if you want to meet people once you’ve had a few drinks and feel irresistibly attractive to the opposite sex.  You can find a very reliable list of London’s top 40 cocktail bars at Class Magazine, produced by the Difford’s Guide

Tube Map of Cocktail Bars – copyright The Gin Monkey (ginmonkey.co.uk)

The Opera Singer, the Investment Banker and the Communist

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My father loved opera and our home in Sri Lanka was filled with music. Gigli, Callas, Caruso and Pavorotti would boom out of the stereo, its ancient valves gently glowing as the turntable or the open reel tape deck would spin out well loved arias. At family events my father would be pressed to exercise his soaring tenor, by then usually mellowed by a wee dram of Scotland’s finest. There is a much retold family legend of my father being stopped in post war Italy without the right papers and charming his way out of the situation by singing to the police in Italian!

Like my father, opera singers tend to be larger than life characters. They also tend to be rather large, enjoying to the fullest their appetite for life’s finest. Many are gourmands. Spanish opera singer Placido Domingo celebrated his love of Mexican food and his friendship with Mexican born chef Richard Sandoval by opening Pampano, a Mexican restaurant in New York City. Sandoval’s restaurant career started 15 years ago with Maya, the elaborate Mexican restaurant and tequila bar on First Avenue and has now expanded to 30 restaurants around the world. Maya even has a branch in Dubai. Very dish dashing. Sandoval is frequently cited amongst the top Mexican chefs in the US and Pampano as one of the best Mexican restaurants in New York City.

I was recently at Pampano, in the Amster Yard neighbourhood of Manhattan. This mid town area on the east side of the island housed stables in the 19th century. After World War 2, designer James Amster created a compound as a haven for creative types, attracting amongst others the interior decorator Billy Baldwin, fashion designer Norman Norell and sculptor Isamu Noguchi as residents. Today the yard is being sensitively redeveloped by the Instituto Cervantes, a not for profit cultural foundation backed by the Spanish government. These days that usually means German taxpayers are footing the bill.

I was with the Swattie and the Hybrid Banker. The Swattie is a recovering communist trained at a secret branch of the Kremlin, on the Crum river in Pennsylvania. The Hybrid Banker is a gentle giant who drives only hybrid cars and might hug a tree if he thought no one was watching. His bank famously provided free banking services to the Occupy Wall Street movement. Sadly, since the Occupiers thought that work was a four letter word, they had no money and the bank wouldn’t accept Starbucks coupons.

Beachfront decor on 49th Street

Pampano occupies a two storey building with a bar and taqueria on the ground floor and the restaurant upstairs. The upstairs space is light and airy, with a dramatic white on white beach theme. The glass roof has white canvas blinds through which diffused sunlight spills into the room. There are old fashioned paddle fans and white plaster reliefs of palm trees. An outdoor dining area is decorated with metal fish in bright Miro colours .The decor transports you from 49th street to a beach front, the soft guitar music adding a definitive Latin lilt.

The drinks list naturally focuses on tequila. The Agave Oro Margarita uses ultra premium Gran Centenario Silver tequila, agavero and agave nectar. They don’t make margaritas quite like this on the other side of the pond. The flavour was nicely rounded with a depth and a complexity rarely found in this cocktail. The lime was present in the mouth, but so was a delicate sweetness. I had two drinks, just to make sure I liked it.

This is a creative drinks list and the Mojito Martini was another hit. Made with white rum, mint and lime, it is topped with cava and garnished with a red grape. The initial sip is full of cava, but the bite of rum and lime is present as the sparkle hits the back of the throat. The shredded mint floating on the surface of the drink generates a lovely fragrance.

I could have stayed all afternoon drinking, but lunch was on the agenda. It is hard to find good Mexican food in Europe. Chef Sandoval does his birth nation proud with creative combinations that retain cultural authenticity.

This is a coastal Mexican seafood menu, punctuated with chillies. They are all present on the menu; from the flavourful anchos, anaheims, guajillos and chipotles to the fiery habaneros and jalapenos. Sandoval uses chillies with a deft touch, enhancing flavours without overwhelming them. Crispy jalapenos bring a piquancy to fluke (aka summer flounder), with a boniata puree nicely offsetting the chilli in this flaky white fish dish. Guajillo peppers add complex green tea and berry overtones to mixed seafood stuffed into a poblano chilli in the Chile Relleno.

It’s been a while since I saw Placido Domingo perform. He is past his prime now but his friend Sandoval is keeping his restaurant investment safe. Eat, drink and be merry! My father’s musical genes have been passed and enhanced in my daughter whose work appears here. Enjoy!

Further Reading

Blogger reviews of Pampano from The Gotham Palate and Boo in London. Watch and listen to Placido Domingo singing the much loved Nessun Dorma from Puccini’s Turandot.

Pampano New York on Urbanspoon