The beauty of renting an apartment in an Italian city is that you have your own front door key, and a kitchen.
We based ourselves in a well appointed apartment on Via Garibaldi.
Even if you don’t want to do any complicated cooking, you can buy some exceptional salame, fresh pasta, cheese and fruit – you’ll even pick up some very acceptable wine for around €5 a bottle.
Turin used to have a reputation for being an industrial city, famous for the Fiat factory and little else, but it’s also the capital of Piedmont, a region with a rich agricultural tradition.
It’s the home of the Slow Food movement, which celebrates small scale producers.
Opening ceremony at the Slow Food festival, 2016
Residents still do their shopping at food markets, and there are excellent independent shops.
Porta Palazzo is the largest outdoor market in Europe and one of the oldest, attracting 100,000 visitors a week. Located on Piazza della Repubblica in the city centre, it consists of roughly half food stalls and half clothing.
There are three permanent food halls on the perimeter; the fish market has closed since I was last there in 2016, but there are still fish vendors in another building.
Best of the three is ‘L’Antica Tettoia dell’Orologio’, with a distinctive clock on its glass and iron façade. Inside you’ll find butchers (including horsemeat), cheese, and all kinds of speciality delicatessen.
Behind it is a little gem, the covered farmers’ market.
‘Mercato Centrale’ opened in 2019 on the northwest corner of the piazza. It’s a food court with a long bar at the centre, and plenty of choices for a lunch or snack: Brazilian or Moroccan food, a seafood bar, and of course food from the Italian regions. It was packed on Sunday, easier to negotiate the following day.
Upstairs there’s a cookery school, and a fashion mall.
The central bar at Mercato Centrale
There’s a counter devoted to the local Agnolotti del Plin (see my previous post, weren’t you paying attention?). ‘Plin’ are smaller than ravioli, and filled with meat – but I’ve never seen them offered fried before.
I was looking for something a little lighter.
I chose a warm focaccia with guanciale (cured pork cheek in melting slices) and potato, from a large bakery stall.
Mercato Centrale has outposts in Florence, Rome and Milan.
You’d think Porta Palazzzo would be enough for any city, but no. I was struck on this visit by the excellent street markets in other locations.
Perhaps best of all is the Sunday producers’ market in Piazza delle Erbe, aka Piazza Palazzo di Città. Star turn was the fresh pasta lady, who was enthusiastically offering tastings. I chose the goats’ cheese and caramelised onion.
The aforementioned wine producer was also happy to give tastings of perfectly decent Spumante, Dolcetto and Nebbiolo, mostly around €5 or 6 a bottle.
If food isn’t your thing, there’s a flea market, Balôn, to the northwest of Porta Palazzo.
On the second Sunday of the month it becomes the ‘Gran Balôn’ with seemingly endless stalls selling vintage posters, clothing, antiques, furniture, even bikes.
If all that’s not enough, on a clear day you can see the Alps from the city centre….
This was the advice of a friend on how to deal with being housebound while recovering from surgery.
It was good advice, and we started by ordering from our local restaurants.
Then some kind friends realised our predicament; they introduced us to Dishpatch, and we haven’t looked back.
Dishpatch is a service which offers menus from top restaurants, delivered to your door, and available nationwide in the UK.
Your order arrives on Friday, by courier, in an insulated box, and practically all packaging is recyclable. There’s a detailed list of contents, with step by step instructions on how to finish your meal at home.
Menus change frequently; typically there’s a starter and a main event with optional ‘add-ons’, which might be a pudding, or something for breakfast or afternoon tea.
Everything is carefully thought through to ensure you have all you need to complete your meal. You won’t go hungry. Some of the participating restaurants will provide their choices of wine or cocktails to get your dinner party started.
The advice for all perishables is to enjoy them during the course of a weekend, but with common sense you can extend any leftovers for a day or two.
The introduction was the gift of a feast from Angela Hartnett’s Café Murano.
First was a fluffy focaccia with antipasti, a pleasantly bitter, smoky aubergine dip, and pickled vegetables; then an outstanding starter, Broad Bean Pesto with pine nuts, peas, herbs and Parmesan.
It came with a whole Burrata cheese to serve on top (I don’t normally set homework, but if you haven’t tried Burrata, find some immediately to rectify your omission, or I will mark you down for carelessness).
There was a little tub of pangrattato too, crisp breadcrumbs to scatter on top, for crunch. Weeks later, we still had a few left in the fridge, they were a gift that kept on giving.
I feel I should apologise that the photos that follow are blurred and poorly lit. Or both, we were SERIOUSLY OVER-EXCITED!
Buratta, Pangrattato, Broad Bean pesto
Main course was the leg and breast of a plump chicken, anointed with spicy N’duja sausage, star anise, rosemary and cardamom. There were roast new potatoes to serve alongside, with sweet cherry tomatoes and artichoke hearts.
Chicken, roast potatoes with artichokes & tomatoes
We finished with a sublime, intense chocolate ‘cake’, and a light pistachio cream.
Chocolate cake, pistachio cream
Emboldened by this success, we ordered my birthday treat from St John
I’m very fond of St John Restaurant. I know the white interior of the restaurant and the staff uniforms are reminiscent of an operating theatre, but it smells much more welcoming, and is infinitely more pleasurable.
Both the restaurant and the cookbooks have been a huge influence on chefs, particularly in Britain and the USA. They were the originators of ‘nose to tail eating’, a philosophy that respects the animals we eat by using every part.
Be reassured, any idea that you will leave the table up to your elbows in gore is misplaced.
It’s elegant, thoughtful and skilled cooking. By ordering from Dishpatch, you only have two jobs: to complete the process in your kitchen, and then polish off the results.
Chicken & ox tongue pie
A chicken & smoked ox tongue pie served two of us generously over two nights. It came with an enamelled pie dish, sufficient pastry for the top, and a length of marrow bone. The marrow enriches the gravy, while the bone serves as pie funnel.
(If you’re not a fan of tongue, the pieces are large enough to allow easy removal, once they’ve imparted their soothing smokiness to the pie).
Potted Pork with cornichons; tomato salad “model’s own”
As well as the pie, which we ate over two days, we ordered all the optional ‘add-ons’ to complete the treat: ‘anchovy gunge’ to nibble on, potted pork & cornichons to start.
There was ginger loaf, butterscotch sauce & clotted cream to follow.
There were Welsh rarebit and miniatures of Fernet Branca for the Morning After, and a chocolate brownie for tea. And an Eccles cake with Lancashire cheese. Just in case we got famished before dinner….
Our latest experiment? José Pizarro’s Paella Box.
You’ll find the full menu via the link below. The tapas provided were enough as dinner on Saturday, with some left over as a starter for the paella the following day. We chose the wild mushroom and artichoke paella, and were amazed by the intensity of flavour. The correct sized pan is included in the box, and can be re-used again if you’re tempted to reproduce the recipe yourself.
There was enough Alioli(garlic mayonnaise) for the Patatas Bravas as well as a transformative dollop to go on the paella.
Mushroom paella with artichokes; brown food, but in a good way.
If your tapas need deep frying, the instructions tell you roughly what size pan to use. There’s a tub of the right amount of rapeseed oil, and a little tin of Maldon salt, enough for a generous seasoning. There’s a chunk of sourdough bread in the box, for mopping.
Deep frying at home can be quite challenging, another time I (or, rather, The Carer) might try cooking the blue cheese croquetas in a hot oven, and using less oil for the Padron peppers.
The Basque cheesecake with lavender honey? We were speechless with admiration….
‘Beef and Liberty’ from Hawksmoor
Liberty? If only….
This was another gift, aimed more at the kitchen-weary carer, I suspect.
Hawksmoor is a restaurant group known for its beef; they offer their own service, delivering steaks, or in this case a Roast Beef dinner for two. The worry and stress of preparation has been lifted from your shoulders, just follow the instructions (intelligently!) and don’t get distracted!
The beef in question was a 35 day dry-aged rolled rump. Don’t be tempted to reduce the amount of salt they advise you to throw on it while searing before it goes into the oven – the end result won’t be over seasoned.
The rested beef didn’t throw out any blood or juice when carved. It was pink, moist and perfectly tender, with the aroma of well aged meat.
The meat cooked at 200° C, and conveniently everything else reheats at the same temperature, even the perfect (substantial!) Yorkshire puddings.
Everything on the plate tasted intensely of itself.
Roast beef with everything prepared and ready to finish in the oven
Potatoes were roasted in beef fat, with whole cloves of garlic that oozed mild sweetness when squeezed open.
Again, everything is included, the fat, the Maldon salt, even a piece of marrow bone to scrape into the gravy (don’t let it dissolve, just let it soften till the sauce ‘throbs’ on the heat). Chantenay carrots & buttered greens are provided, and a sticky toffee pudding.
We kept the cauliflower cheese to eat with the leftover beef the next day (it has no other part to play in a roast, in my opinion).
Dishpatch was founded in 2020 during the first lockdown. They work with London restaurants to create meal kits that can be posted anywhere in the UK. The restaurants do what they do best by preparing the food, while Dishpatch handles logistics, delivery and customer service.
Since starting, Dishpatch has delivered well over 75,000 boxes.
We’ve found their service excellent. On only one occasion we had a minor issue with a couple of products which we fed back to the support team at Dishpatch by email. They responded very quickly and professionally, with a partial refund as recompense, and a generous voucher to spend on a future order.
Prices are comparable with a local takeaway, ranging from around £25 for a one-course meal for two, to £70 for a complete dinner; if that sounds expensive, be reassured the contents of the latter will provide more than enough for a feast, or more likely two.
Our local restaurants do not include Mexican, Japanese or Korean among the options, to name just three of the cuisines in the Dishpatch portfolio.
A seriously good cup of coffee is one of life’s great pleasures for me, and they don’t get much better than at Robert’s Coffee, in the Saluhall market, Stockholm.
The cinnamon buns are a bonus. (They take cards only, not cash, so you won’t even have to bother buying kronor).
Osteria al Ponte del Diavolo on the island of Torcello; all the better for being unexpected.
Torcello is about an hour from Venice; you can reach it on a scheduled service, changing at Burano, using your vaporetto pass.
Osteria al Ponte del Diavolo, Torcello
The ancient basilica on Torcello predates the city of Venice. To reach it from the quay, you walk along the side of a canal. The most famous restaurant on the island is the Locanda Cipriani nearby, but you pass three others on the way.
We weren’t looking for a grand lunch, but something to fortify us for the basilica.
The first place looked fun, but was packed with families queuing for pizza.
The second was a fairly standard Trattoria. We walked on.
The third had a big dining room with a covered terrace at the back, opening onto a garden. The menu looked as if we could find something suitable, so we went in and were greeted with smiles and shown to a table.
It was a good decision, even the bread basket was exceptional. We had a pretty antipasto of colourful steamed vegetables, all tasting intensely of themselves, served warm to bring out the fruitiness of the olive oil dressing.
Then black squid ink pasta, with crab, samphire and rosemary; orecchiette with turbot and cherry tomatoes.
We drank Arneis, a white from Piemonte.
After lunch we wandered round the garden and may have dropped off on a bench in the pergola. Just for a moment….
Osteria al Ponte del Diavolo is open for lunch Tuesday to Sunday, and dinner on Friday and Saturday.
Honourable mention for the Sweetbreads at Frenchie’s Wine Bar, Paris.
So good, I ate them twice.
https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Kh
‘Everything, I want to eat everything’
Caffé Toscanini in Amsterdamfor the whole experience of food and hospitality; a perfect aperitif followed by an accomplished Italian meal, delivered with good humour and expertise.
https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Kh
The bar at Caffe Toscanini, Amserdam
The prize goes to A.G. for the best steak of 2019.I’ll be lucky to find one as good in 2020.
Most of the tables were occupied by groups of men sharing massive steaks.
There were also a few couples on date nights, sharing massive steaks.
‘Vegetarians, look away now’.
https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Oh
A.G. – ‘vegetarians, look away now’
TV Show: Remarkable places to eat, Episode 1, in which chef Angela Hartnett takes Maitre d’ Fred Siriex to her favourites in Venice.
It’s a full hour of television, so they have time to show you the dedication and hard work that goes into delivering the best ingredients and food experiences in the city. These are not cynical tourist traps. Nothing is done without effort: wading chest deep in the lagoon to harvest seafood; delivering vegetables by boat and trolley to Bruno Gavagnin, the quietly spoken but demanding chef at Alle Testiere; walking half a kilometre over bridges carrying boxes of perfect patisserie to Caffe Florian, from their production kitchen to Piazza San Marco – several times throughout the day.
At the time of writing it’s not available on BBC iPlayer, but it’s sure to turn up on your TV sooner or later.
Acqua Alta comes as no surprise to Venetians in November, it’s an annual phenomenon; an irritation, an inconvenience to be dealt with stoically by the residents and businesses of the city.
This year, as we now know, it was a disaster on a scale unprecedented since 1966. Many restaurants and shops were forced to close by the flood on the night of November 12th. The water subsided, only to be followed by a second high tide a couple of days later, then a torrential downpour.
As I write this on 17th November, BBC Radio News is reporting a third flood.
Osteria Bancogiro
One of the restaurants affected by Acqua Granda is Osteria Bancogiro, on the fringe of Rialto market, within sight of the bridge and the Grand Canal.
Just over a month ago I was in Venice. We usually visit Bancogiro to sit at the bar with a selection of their chicheti, but on a warm and sunny day in October it seemed a good idea to have lunch at a table outside.
Bancogiro from the terrace
Instead of choosing from the display of snacks in the counter, we were presented with a printed menu. In a moment of innocence I ordered the Antipasto Misto di Pesce, expecting the typical Venetian restaurant plate of baccala (salt cod), prawns, cannochie shrimp, cuttlefish roe etc.
What arrived was an antipasto with a Bancogiro twist – a tasting tour on a plate, helpfully guided by our waiter:
‘From the bottom right, anticlockwise’
Prawns in tomato sauce on cream cheese. Octopus and aubergine on polenta, drenched with olive oil. Baccala mantecato on warm black polenta. A generous pile of smoked tuna, infused with orange zest. Sweet pepper stuffed with soft cheese. Sarde in Saor.
Antipasto misto di pesce
Lunch was accompanied by an equally varied soundscape: the sounds of the engines of traffic from the canal, the hammering of builders restoring the roof of a palazzo on the far side, and the cries of seagulls scavenging debris from the fish market.
There was a moment of serious balcony envy, as we looked up and realised there was someone else enjoying lunch, followed by a spot of sun worship.
Balcony envy
As we enjoyed a coffee, someone at a neighbouring table was already contemplating
‘Spritz o’clock’
Spritz o’clock
Bancogiro closed the day after Acqua Alta; they were defiantly open again a day later.
In the following days, there have been many images in news and social media as the unsung heroes of Acqua Alta have quietly got on with the business of pumping, mopping and cleaning up after the waters subsided, and in some cases opening for business even if they have been up to their knees, or higher, in water.
As a small tribute to these heroes, here are some of their Instagram tags, where you will find images of citizens of all ages, doggedly trying to restore normality to their homes, churches and businesses:
On Instagram, you’ll find the team outside osteriabancogiro up to their knees but grinning, sharing ‘that glass of wine, that slice of fennel salame, a hug between friends who share a difficult moment’
cantinaschiavi is more succinct: ‘Honestly, it’s just a ****ing disaster’ – their shop floor underwater; a collapsed stack of sodden cases of wine.
But at venissa_tenuta on the island of Burano, a waiter is standing ready to greet you on the restaurant terrace with a bottle of Prosecco. He’s smiling.
The green floodwater nearly covers his waders, and the caption reads ‘Still positive’
On the morning of November 18th, the waters appear to have subsided….
HOW TO HELP VENICE AND THE VENETIANS AFTER THE ACQUA ALTA
Here’s a link to some sound advice from The Venice Insider:
Santa Croce is one of the sestiere of Venice, between Rialto and the railway station.
Arriving in Campo San Giacomo dell’ Orio in the early evening, you’ll encounter a microcosm of Venetian life. A few tourists pass through, but really it’s an urban village.
At its centre is the eponymous church. When the junior school is out, you’ll see boisterous children doing circuits of the little cluster of trees, on scooters, bikes and skates.
The race track, early evening
There’s a game of football being played, with the walls of the church and the Co-op supermarket acting as goals – when I was there it became clear that the boys were playing the girls, and the girls were winning….
There are three restaurants in the square, but my favourite haunt is Al Prosecco, a husband and wife operation, where they serve cicheti, and platters of cheese, salumi and smoked fish; perfect for a light lunch or an early evening aperitivo.
The renovation of the market building, Östermalms Saluhall, started 3 years ago. Work is running late, and it’s now expected to re-open in 2020. In the meantime the market is located in a temporary structure across the street.
Saluhall is emerging from the scaffolding
We’d booked for dinner at Lisa Elmqvist on Saturday, but couldn’t resist lunch at Nybroe Smørrebrød.
Lunch at Nybroe Smorrebrod
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They offer a daily selection of three open sandwiches, usually fish, meat and cheese – a three course lunch on one plate. Today it was Skagen Salad (prawns in dill mayonnaise); roast meat with mushrooms, sun dried tomato, tarragon mayo; Brie, chutney, pear & thyme.
The meat was quite dark, and I asked the waitress if it was venison.
‘It’s roast beef, but I don’t know which animal’.
A light three course lunch
Dinner at Lisa Elmqvist
Lisa Elmqvist was a fisherman’s daughter who traded fish and seafood on the Stockholm waterfront in the 1920s. She quickly gained a reputation for the quality of her wares, and opened a stall at Östermalms Saluhall which continues to attract a loyal clientele of seafood lovers.
Run by the fourth generation, it’s still very much a family concern, proudly bearing a royal warrant, and a dozen recommendations in the Michelin Guide.
A very charming waitress crouched next to the table to explain the menu, in perfect English, and take our order.
The kitchen at Lisa Elmqvist
Laxtartar: cured and fresh salmon tartar with Dijon mustard, shallot, pickled cucumber noodles, trout roe and potato crisps.
Six Special Fine de Claire oysters.
Pike Perch (Zander), mushroom and cream sauce.
Butter-fried lemon sole with beetroot.
(The inevitable happened, and our waitress very kindly brought sparkling water to dab the beetroot juice that had landed on my new linen shirt).
Lemon Sole
Playlist: Philadelphia soul, George Benson, Bill Withers. Sade. Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Jackie Wilson, The Staple Singers.
We like to mark our evening of arrival in Paris with dinner at La Fontaine de Mars. You know you’re in Paris from the moment you step through the door.
This time I’d left it too late to make a reservation, so we gave Le Bistrot d’Eléonore et Maxence a call.
A sunny afternoon at Le Bistrot
Le Maitre d’ greeted us when we arrived, and explained apologetically that our table wasn’t quite ready – ‘may I offer you une coupe de champagne while you’re waiting?’
It was a busy Saturday evening, the heavens had opened outside, and the diners were clearly in no hurry to vacate our table.
Le Maitre d’ apologised again, ‘I will pour you champagne, champagne, champagne until your table is ready’.
A poached egg on summer veg – “one egg is un oeuf”
As it turned out, he was as good as his word, so we were quite mellow when we went to our table about 40 minutes later, after browsing the menu
Highlights from our meal included a starter of a poached egg on green summer vegetables, dressed with pesto; tuna tataki as a main (it would have fed three people!) and a tartare of hand cut Charolais veal.
Veal tartare avec son garniture
It’s a small, lively restaurant in a residential area. The staff are friendly and attentive, even on a busy Saturday evening, and the food coming out of the tiny open kitchen was très bon.
Playlist: Parisien.
Le Bistrot d’Eléonore et Maxence www.le-bem.com
It was a real find, I wish it had an equivalent where I live.
(Actually, it does. If you live in west London you could save the price of the Eurostar ticket by booking a table at Le Petit Citron in Shepherds Bush).
We were able to revisit La Fontaine later in the week. It’s one of those reassuring places that never changes; even the waiters seem to sign up for life.
The menus are laminated, and there’s a classic every day. ‘It’s Sunday, so it must be poulet roti, pommes de terre puree’. Evidemment.
They bring a blackboard to your table with daily specials (there’s always cassoulet) and my starter of asparagus and poached egg with foie gras sauce didn’t disappoint.
The FT’s restaurant critic recently wrote something like ‘it couldn’t be more French than Piaf singing La Marseillaise with a string of onions round her neck’. He wasn’t wrong.
129, Rue Saint-Dominique, Paris 75007 0033 (0)1 47 05 46 44
La Fontaine de Mars
Asparagus, egg, foie gras
D’chez eux
On the day of departure it made sense to have lunch locally. “Our” apartment in the 7th is in a residential neighbourhood, and there aren’t many restaurants on the doorstep.
We booked d’chez eux, which very roughly translates as ‘from their home’.
It was Mothers’ day, so there were several tables of three….
The menu is on the pricey side, and we weren’t looking for the full ‘Français’ before taking the train home, so we went for the prix fixe, choosing oeufs russes followed by the seabass, which was beautifully cooked, and a glass of Aligoté.
Seabass, endive and vegetables
We’re not big on puddings, but this was our main meal of the day, so a crème caramel seemed appropriate, as did something that looked like Irish coffee on the menu, and turned out to be a plate with dark chocolate mousse, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, a profiterole, and an espresso on the side.
where the best produce attracts the longest queue….
“Greengrocer number 5, please”
I’ve always been amused by the expression ‘French breakfast radish’
Breakfast. Just add butter and salt
It’s more than a food market, and everything is in season.
Summer chapeaux
The Ladies of the 7th go out in force with their trolleys
Chariot at the ready
Food shopping recommendations on rue Cler & avenue de Saxe– https://wp.me/p7AW4i-k5
Lunch on rue Cler, where it had been a long day for the fishmongers
Le Petit Cler is a café owned by La Fontaine de Mars. We pitched up for a late lunch, and it was filling up fast; we didn’t have a reservation, but the manager was charming, and promised to seat us – he had a booking who hadn’t turned up yet; he would give them another five minutes, then he would give us their table.
On the dot of the fifth minute they arrived, but shortly afterwards we had secured a table outside, and felt very smug as a queue formed on the street.
As we tucked into our croque monsieur and tartine de chevre, it became obvious that the fishmongers opposite at La Sablaise had had a long and busy day; closing the shop was a laborious process. Quantities of ice were being shovelled into the gutter outside to be flushed into the drain.
They too were in need of refreshment.
A waiter from nearby Café Roussillon delivered a big bowl of frites, and a tray laden with beers, a glass of wine and an Aperol spritz.
Outside a couple of passing children invented a new street game; ‘Breaking the Ice’.
Breaking the ice on rue Cler
Shortly afterwards one of the mongers took the tray back to the café, and returned with another round of drinks.
And more frites. Naturellement, comme d’habitude….
Word was circulating that a new bakery is producing the best croissants in Paris. On a visit to the city in May, naturally I went to investigate rue Oberkampf, looking for No 61. The 11th Arrondissement is roughly equivalent to London’s Shoreditch, with little independent shops, a market, and tattoo parlours.
rue Oberkampf & the market on Boulevard Richard Lenoir
Arriving at the shop, I explained to the young man behind the counter (in my best French) that je suis escrivain d’un blog, and asked if I could take some photos.
‘Would you prefer to speak in English or in French? I’m English’ he replied (in French). ‘English’ I said, ‘it’s probably safer’.
The patient Englishman
Between customers, he was able to answer some of my questions. One of the first was how the bakery found its name.
It’s called ‘The French Bastards’
The business was founded in January 2019 by friends Julien, Emmanuel and David. Julien had worked in Australia, where his colleagues called him ‘the French bastard’, and back in Paris the friends decided to use the nickname for their shop.
The French Bastards put out their shingle
The counter display comprised neat ranks of colourful pastry: red fruit tarts, black fruit tarts with dark chocolate….
Black fruit tart with dark chocolate
….lemon meringue eclairs, alongside the usual chocolate and coffee.
Lemon meringue eclairs
Then there were three kinds of sandwich piled high for the lunchtime trade; admittedly expensive at €7.90, but each looked as if it would feed a small family (my eye was caught by the 36 month Iberico ham, with sun dried tomato & mizuna salad).
And viennoisserie, row upon sticky row of flaky bronze pastry, including all the classics, and more creative offerings like the Babka, made to a Polish recipe – chocolate brioche, purposely undercooked for ooze; and the Cruffin, a croissant crossed with a muffin, filled with raspberry purée.
Babka (centre) and Cruffin (right)
There was a coffee machine, and I decided we should try out the simplest emblem of the French patissier’s art, the humble croissant.
We sat at the table at the back of the shop, where behind a glass screen we could watch four bakers going about their useful work.
Croissants: their useful work before
…and after
The coffee was the best we’ve had in Paris (they use Peruvian beans)….
and as for the croissant….
It wasn’t too big, with a darker colour than is usual, apparently derived from the rich butter they use. It was very flaky and light, but still had substance, a rich taste, the merest hint of caramel from the butter, and not at all greasy in the fingers.
…and during
A baker came out of the kitchen and introduced himself as Emmanuel, one of the business partners. He asked what we had tried, and agreed the croissant was a good choice. ‘It’s like choosing spaghetti with tomato sauce in an Italian place; if it’s good, you know you’re in safe hands’.
Although they’ve only been open a few months, they’re already looking for more sites. The first shop is close to Le Marais and the Picasso museum, on rue Oberkampf, close to a busy street market on Boulevard Richard Lenoir.
As well as pastries they make very good bread, from Le Tradition (the baguette) to a Pain de Campagne with honey, turmeric and Corinth grapes, ‘yellower than your gilet’.
Bread at The French Bastards
Before leaving, I had to admit to another motive. While it had been worth crossing Paris for the croissant, I couldn’t resist making it known that I have another occupation.
As an English longbow archer, I had wanted to come and take a look at the French Bastards.
‘Maison Fondee Hier’ (founded yesterday)
The FRENCH BASTARDS, 61, rue Oberkampf, Paris 11eme. (The Bastards take ‘Thursday Off’)
Nearest Metro Filles de Calvaire
Playlist: mellow. As well as the table, there’s a battered leather sofa.
Your sofa awaits
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We passed the restaurant in the morning near Vondelpark, while walking along Van Baerlestraat towards the Van Gogh Museum. What we could see of the pristine, white tiled interior looked promising, and the empty plastic crates stacked outside boded well, even on a Monday.
Returning at lunchtime, we had to wait a couple of minutes to be seated at the bar, but our arrival was well timed; a queue quickly formed behind us.
The Seafood Bar, Van Baerlestraat
We were given a lengthy menu to study, and the show began, as we watched the assembly line of chefs, plating the various combinations of seafood with care and precision.
You can tell a lot about a place by small details. The bread was brought to us immediately: slices of perfect baguette were presented in a paper bag, preserving its perfect crust and soft crumb, and a pat of chive butter.
The food: I ordered a selection of small dishes, and ‘she’ decided on the ‘plateau’, consisting of prawns; white and snow crab, beautifully fresh & sweet; cold and hot-smoked salmon, and firm strips of smoked trout fillet.
The plateau
Dutch shrimp croquettes came with mustard mayo; when I cut through the crunchy crust, the bechamel filling oozed out nicely.
Scallop, basil, hazelnut was a simple and well judged combination of flavours and textures.
Scallops, hazelnut, basil
Sashimi of the day: sea bass, salmon, scallop and tuna, with wasabi, soy and ginger, and a salad of seaweed rolled in cucumber and dressed with sesame.
Sashimi of the day
Wine: Glasses of Austrian Grüner Veltliner from Julius Klein were a good match; kiwi, greengage, lime.
Playlist: Blue Note jazz.
The Seafood Bar in action
We liked it so much, we went back the next day for more
The following day we realised that our timed visit to the Rijksmuseum would make it impossible to make a booking for lunch near Centraal station. We liked The Seafood Bar so much that it was an easy decision to change our plans; there was a branch handily placed near the museum on Ferdinand Bolstraat.
It’s in De Pijp, the neighbourhood described as Amsterdam’s Latin Quarter, where the streets are named after Dutch painters.
De Pijp, where creatives and hipsters rub intellects
There was no wait for a table, it looked as if the action would take place in the evenings in De Pijp.
The Seafood Bar, Ferdinand Bolstraat
The food:
If you’re an oyster lover, there was a Happy Hour (available all afternoon) with a choice of oysters priced at one euro each.
Ferdinand Bolstraad, before the rush
This time we reversed roles (in that I had the plateau). She went for the shrimp croquettes, and tried the crab cakes, which were rich with brown meat, and a funky undertone of heat.
Crab Cakes
The portion of both of these is three, and our waitress helpfully suggested adding an extra one of each so we could share.
Larger fruits de mer were on the menu ‘to share’, but at least one dedicated luncher was going in on her own, with nothing but a paper bib for protection.
The playlist at this branch has a funky undertone too; laid back, trippy jazz.
Wine: I ordered the Grüner Veltliner again. Why wouldn’t you, it’s perfect?
Mosaic mural at The Seafood Bar, Van Baerlestraat
The Seafood Bar is at three locations in Amsterdam, and The Seafood Shop at Leidsestraat 61. There’s also a branch in Utrecht.
This time a year later, to Café Restaurant Dauphine. Read about my previous visit here: ‘Amsterdam, and a Tale of Two Brasseries’https://wp.me/p7AW4i-fw
The food:
We both started with Shrimp Cocktail ‘Dauphine’, generous glasses of prawns with avocado, grapefruit, fennel, tomato and a dusting of cayenne.
Mains: a brasserie classic, the Rib-eye with béarnaise, fries and salad.
My cutlet of Iberico pork was a splendid dish. The ‘calvados sauce and plum chutney’ described turned out to be a fine gravy, ‘turnip stew’ was a light mash. It was a triumph of taste over menu-speak.
Iberico Pork Cutlet, ‘turnip stew’
A young couple at a nearby table were demolishing a multi-tiered construction of seafood; as far as we could see, at least two lobsters were involved.
Wine: we drank well!
Raumland ‘Cuvée Katharina’ German Sekt was an impressive aperitif; an austere and aromatic Blanc de Noirs (Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier)
Grüner Veltliner Steingarten 2017, Weszeli, Kamptal, Austria
Spätburgunder SP 2015, Hensel, Pfalz, Germany – a refreshing Pinot Noir, which was offered chilled
Playlist: it’s a converted car showroom, a big modern space with hard surfaces, so I guess it might get noisy. On the Sunday evening we were there it wasn’t busy, there was no music, just a quiet buzz of conversation.
Club Dauphine: on Friday nights, and some Sundays, there’s a live music venue next door “in the atmosphere of a New York nightclub”. Dutch saxophonist Candy Dulfer is the musical advisor, and sometimes she plays there with her band; it looks right up my straat…..
I’ve been writing about the Nordic food adventures I had in January while on a brief weekend in Stockholm, and since then I’ve been experimenting in the kitchen.
Quantities and measurements needn’t be too precise, these are as much processes as recipes; proportions are important but not inflexible. If you’re looking for exact recipes, read to the end of this post.*
For the gravlax, use enough pickling mixture to “bury” the fish completely. (“Gravlax” derives from the Swedish for “buried salmon”).
It’s worth buying a good big bunch of dill from a greengrocer, it will be enough for the gravlax and the skagen salad. A sprig from the supermarket just won’t be big enough.
Skagen, Gravlax, Caviar & Cucumber
Skagen salad
The Stockholm weekend introduced me to this simple salad, also called Skagenröra. The Swedish prawns seemed smaller than the ones you typically find here, but not as small as those little brown Dutch shrimps you can find here in punnets. I buy the smallest peeled Greenland prawns from my fishmonger and cut them into two or even three pieces. It’s worth the trouble, they’re more enjoyable to eat if you can scoop them onto your toast with a fork. In Sweden they’re often served with orange or black fish roe and crisp slices of white bread fried in butter on the side.
Combine them with good quality mayonnaise (commercially made is fine – life’s too short….) and a generous handful of chopped dill. Don’t overload the prawns with mayo. I like to incorporate a dab of good Dijon mustard into the mix, or you might prefer horseradish.
Skagen Salad
Gravlax
The name ‘Gravlax’ derives from the Swedish for “buried salmon”.
Take a thick piece of fresh salmon fillet. Combine an equal quantity of salt flakes and sugar with plenty of chopped dill and a pinch of white or black pepper. (I recently used 250g (12oz) fish, which needed 1.5 tablespoons each of salt and sugar. Increasing the proportion of sugar is supposed to give a creamier texture).
Lay the fish skin-side down in a non-reactive dish. “Bury” the fish in the dry mixture, cover with clingfilm, then place a weight (e.g. tins) to press it down, and refrigerate for two days to extract moisture. The pressure results in a firmer gravlax.
After two days drain the liquid, rinse off the marinade with cold water, and pat dry with kitchen paper.
Cover and leave for two more days to complete the curing, after which it will keep for several days in the fridge. Cut slices off the skin as needed; thinly at an angle, or thicker slices vertically if you prefer.
“Chalk stream trout” has recently appeared on restaurant menus, and in fishmongers. It’s farmed in Hampshire close to the River Test. It’s lean and mild with a striking colour, and makes a good gravlax.
The Swedish name for trout is “Öring“, so this version should probably be called gravdöring.
Salmon, salt, sugar, dill; it’s that simple.
Quick Pickled Cucumbers
I used to peel and de-seed the cucumbers, but they quickly lost texture in the pickling liquor. I recently discovered small Lebanese cucumbers in my local greengrocers which stay crunchy and sweet.
Bring a tablespoon each of sugar and salt to the boil with enough vinegar and water to fill your jar, and allow to cool. I like to use cider vinegar to make pickles, it’s less assertive than other vinegars.
Put your sliced cucumbers into the clean jar and cover them with the liquid. Infuse with aromatics if you wish: a sprig of dill and a few mustard seeds perhaps.
The pickles are ready to eat the same day, any left over will keep a few days in the fridge. Your guests will love them.
Quick pickled cucumbers
Rye Bread
I’ve recently discovered a Carrot and Rye loaf at Ole & Steen, a Danish bakery and coffee chain in London and Oxford. It’s light and moist, it keeps for several days, and it’s the perfect vehicle for open sandwiches. Ask them to slice it on setting No 10, which is the thickest they can do.
If you’re not within reach of a branch of Ole & Steen, look for a light rye bread, pumpernickel, or wholemeal at a pinch.
Swedish pickled herrings are usually small pieces of tender fillet in a mild pickling liquid. If you like something with a more vinegary punch, this version from Norfolk should suit you.
Accompany with Akvavit, and singing; optional, or obligatory if you’re Swedish.
Black or red “Caviar” is easy enough to find, but for more specialist Swedish products, Totally Swedish can provide them in their two London shops, or on line.
(It can’t be a coincidence that The Swedish School in London, founded 1907, is also located in Barnes).
Totally Swedish
32 Crawford Street, London W1H 1LS 020 7224 9300 66 Barnes High Street, London SW13 9LD 020 8487 2882
If you’re tempted to ‘try this at home’, the definitive source of recipes is the 767 pages of The Nordic Cookbook by Swedish chef Magnus Nilsson. It’s a fascinating insight into the food and culture of the Nordic countries, illustrated with beautiful photographs by the author.
He might even tempt you try an Icelandic tradition – trout, cold-smoked over burning sheep’s dung.
