Approaching to land at Marco Polo for a few days in Venice, I was leafing through ‘Walks in Venice, in the footsteps of 9 locals’ and came across The Mercato de Santa Marta, ‘a small but lively local market’ where every Monday morning, farmers from the mainland come to set up their stalls.
The book is by Katia Waegemans, founder of The Venice Insider, a travel blog for frequent visitors to Venice. It’s available from Amazon, the link is at the end of this post.
We landed on a Saturday in October, which gave us a day to settle in and be ready to find the market. The Santa Marta neighbourhood is in the depths of Dorsoduro.
Dorsoduro
We passed Tramontin, one of the few remaining boatyards that specialise in repairing gondolas, then through the campus of Venice University, where we paused for coffee in the student canteen before proceeding into a complex of unprepossessing halls of residence.
Gondolas at Tramontin
Old ladies were walking towards us with laden shopping trolleys, which is always a sign that you are getting close to a market; sure enough we rounded a corner and there it was. We headed for the busiest greengrocers’ stall, hoping we would be served eventually.
Fortunately a young student shared the helpful information (in English, she was Italian/Australian, an interesting mix) that we should take a ticket from the red dispenser (there’s one on every stall) and wait for our number to be called.
We came away with a good haul of fruit and veg for just 17 euros.
We were recommended to try ‘The Devil’s Beans’ with instructions on cooking by the cheerful stallholder, who threw in some parsley and sage to complete the dish.
Approaching Santa Marta
Shoppers were a mix of students and locals, I think we were the only non-Italians there. The quality of produce was excellent, and prices were very reasonable.
The plant stall
We picked up some pork and chicken, salame, cheese, buffalo pannacotta, and a beautiful yoghurt with forest fruits.
Best of all, I spotted ‘Puntarelle’, a salad vegetable that’s only available for a limited season, and rarely seen outside Italy.
Puntarelle
After shopping, lunch would be our reward
We decided to award ourselves a snack lunch of tramezzini, little sandwiches stuffed with various fillings, and headed across the Giudecca Canal to the Bar Palanca.
I’ve always been a little concerned about the Palanca since Time Out magazine listed it as one of its ‘bars with the best views in the world’.
I needn’t have worried.
We were greeted by a lovely waiter who’s been there for years; he fist-bumped each of us in turn, and firmly upsold the specials of the day to share. We were putty in his hands.
The star dish was an antipasto of tuna tartare, baccala mantecato (whipped salt cod), silver anchovies with pink peppercorns, and sarde in saor (sardines with onion, vinegar and golden raisins).
My enquiry about the delicate spicing of the tuna was met with the inevitable response:
‘It’s our secret mix’.
You can reach the market by vaporetto from the Grand Canal to the Santa Marta stop, or walk as we did from the San Basilio stop on the Giudecca Canal; cross to Palanca on the opposite side.
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.
In November 2018 a new restaurant called Pompette opened its doors on the northern outskirts of Oxford. It quickly gained a reputation for being a welcome addition to the city’s food scene.
The terrace at Pompette
Pompette translates as tipsy, tiddly or squiffy – not drunk in an unseemly sort of way, but the rather charming state of a maiden aunt who has enjoyed an unaccustomed glass of champagne.
The restaurant looks and feels authentically French, but this is no slavish pastiche of a Paris bistro. The menu features Italian as well as French influences.
Most impressive is the eye for detail in what emerges from the kitchen; French bread can so often be a let-down. The Pompette Baguette & Burgundy butter is a thing of simple, crusty, sourdough beauty.
The charming waiting staff are friendly and efficient. You can tell they’re smiling behind their masks.
Friendly & efficient staff
We started with a salad of Roquefort, gem lettuce, celery & apple, perked up by spiced walnuts, and a flûte of Crémant d’Alsace.
Roquefort & spicy walnut salad
I chose Burrata & caponata with a glass of Vouvray, which trod a balance between richness and acidity that worked with the discreetly sweet and savoury notes of the aubergine dish and the luxuriously creamy cheese.
Burrata & caponata
For mains, Courgette, pea & broad bean risotto, mascarpone, lemon, pine nuts & mint was a comforting taste of summer on an unseasonably grey day.
Courgette, pea & broad bean risotto
I wouldn’t usually order beef at lunchtime, but this was to be my main meal of the day. Roast sirloin of Hereford beef was a thick slice, cooked to perfect rosy pink tenderness.
‘Duck fat potatoes’ were sliced wafer-thin, then moulded into thick ingots, fried or roasted to lovely softness, with a crisp golden crust. Watercress, shallots and a generous bowl of glorious Béarnaise completed the plate.
Roast sirloin, Bearnaise & duck fat potatoes
I asked for a carafe of Austrian Blaufrankisch to go with the beef, and was impressed that my order was taken without having to repeat it, or point out the wine on the list.
Blaufrankisch, Weingut Judith Beck, 2019
The set lunch is very good value, 2 courses for £26 or 3 for £32.
The wine selection is inventive, and with around 25 wines offered by the glass or carafe, you can afford to be adventurous.
Parking on the street outside is free for up to two hours; there’s also parking for a dozen cars behind the restaurant. It’s through a narrow archway which you might find challenging to negotiate after lunch, especially if you’re ‘un peu Pompette’.
We booked a table at Socius for lunch on Wednesday 19th May, which turned out to be their first service after lockdown.
They were ‘so thrilled to be back’, and so were we.
The view from Table 6
Husband and wife team Dan and Natalie describe their menu as ‘snacks and small plates to showcase a modern, British version of tapas’, allowing you to order as much or as little as you want.
Don’t expect the tapas to have a Spanish accent; the Socius style is more influenced by Scandinavia and Japan.
Socius Plates
We thought most dishes were good for two to share; we ordered four between us, and didn’t forget to have the focaccia on the side, it’s essential for mopping; light and fluffy with a savoury crust, it came with a herb butter, whipped to a light green creaminess.
We chose the sticky king prawns with chilli glaze (Natalie says ‘we’d get into trouble if we tried to take them off the menu’).
Tuna tartare is dressed with a loose mayonnaise seasoned with chilli and ginger, bringing a well judged background warmth to the dish; it comes with a crisp wonton to scoop it up.
Tuna tartare, chilli, ginger, wonton
‘BBQ beetroot, yoghurt, horseradish, cucumber, dill’ was elegant, earthy and sweet, a salad transcending the sum of its humble parts.
BBQ beetroot
Hasselback potatoes were earthy too, with nutty skins and warm fluffy flesh. They were served with asparagus ‘salsa’, charred to retain a slight crunch, and spiked with capers.
Hasselback potatoes, asparagus salsa
Everything at Socius is cooked and presented with precision.
We finished with an affogato (a scoop of excellent vanilla ice cream. ‘drowned’ in espresso).
Lunch, with a glass of manzanilla and a couple of glasses of fresh zingy Verdejo, came to £58.
If there are two of you, try to ask for Table 6 – it faces the pass and you’ll see pretty much every dish plated in front of you. When it’s ready, head chef Dan calls for ‘Service please!’
If you’re a group of four, Table 2 by the window is a good alternative. We booked it for a return visit, when perhaps we’ll share the aged beef rump; it looked too much for two to share.
Table 2 on the right
The building has been designed as a restaurant, and has an unexpectedly urban feel. It faces the new car park which serves Burnham Market – if you know the town, it’s behind Satchell’s, the wine merchant.
There’s a gallery above the main space, and a table with high stools next to the ‘Wine Wall’ by the entrance.
There are about a dozen staff, half in the kitchen headed by Dan, and half waiting tables, led by the ever-smiling Natalie.
It’s a wonderful addition to the North Norfolk food scene. Booking ahead is essential.
In the heady days of July, after lockdown lifted, we cautiously put our minds to where we might like to reconnect with the pleasures of….
Now, what was it called again, that activity we had been looking forward to for months?
Ah, yes! It was called ‘Eating Out’.
We could leave home and go away for a few days. We would go to Norfolk!
We’d go the pub!
The Dun Cow, Salthouse
It’s a pub with a large garden, overlooking the marshes.
View from a window table
We booked a table for supper on the evening of our arrival; we unpacked the car, got ourselves organised, and then it was a few minutes drive away.
Norfolk had escaped the worst of the pandemic, so while restrictions were duly observed, the atmosphere in the pub was relatively relaxed.
We sanitised our hands on arrival, and waited to be shown to our table. The waiting staff weren’t required to wear masks then, but the menu and wine list were ‘single use’, and we were asked to order at the bar; there were no stools for customers to sit and drink there.
We had taken two or three bites from our starters when I put down my knife and fork. They were good, but I realised what was really remarkable: this was the first plate of food I had eaten in several months that had been prepared by someone who was not sitting at the table.
And behold, for it tasted good.
Carpaccio of Beef
Carpaccio of Red Poll beef with remoulade, truffle oil, Parmesan and ‘Blakeney leaves’
And to drink? It’s an interesting wine list for a pub.
Hungarian Furmint by the glass, anyone?
I met her in a Club down in old Soho
Back in London, to lunch at The Union, the members’ club in Soho.
After lockdown they asked their members to book twice, once in July and once in August. This would enable them to keep going through the summer.
We went during what then seemed to be the never-ending heatwave. The bar and dining room were empty, everyone had elected to sit outside on the small roof terrace.
We ordered a bottle of rosé ‘to show willing’, which came with glasses that had been frosted in the freezer.
Photography is discouraged in the club, but this is a view from our table, looking up.
Blue sky over Soho
I snatched another photo.
The Upstairs Neighbour had gone fishing.
After a leisurely lunch we were able to repair to the cool shade of the bar (and enjoy the briefest snooze) before making our way home on an almost empty tube.
Inside The Union
….and a Caff (indulge me here)
During lockdown, many restaurants had asked regular customers to invest in vouchers which could be redeemed against lunch or dinner, when such activities became possible again.
We bought them for a couple of local independent places who we wanted to support.
A birthday was approaching, so we also decided to splash out at one of our favourites.
The River Café
Despite their masks, the staff were clearly enjoying being back in the business of looking after their customers.
The menus were disposable, and we had been encouraged to study the lengthy wine list online, and choose something before the Big Night.
I’m sorry the photos are a bit blurry; we were so excited!
Turbot, yellow pepper, gremolata
Simple and perfectly executed, as ever
Scallops, cod, clams, cannellini
After dinner, one of the floor managers made a point of coming over to ask how we had enjoyed our evening.
Our flight was booked for 27 March, for a short break before my operation that was scheduled for May 1st.
Still, we can look back to dinner in Murano a couple of weeks ago; that’s Angela Hartnett’s restaurant in Mayfair, not the island.
View of the kitchen from The Chef’s Table, Murano
My brother-in-law Richard is a director at Smart Catering, where Angela is executive chef; a dinner at the chef’s table was his birthday treat.
Tuscan Rosato with the veal
The head chef came out of the kitchen to introduce herself, and the menu.
‘I’m Lauren; I’m not Italian, as you can probably tell’,
she said, deadpan, in a Scottish accent, before running through the meal: canapés, a starter, pasta, a fish course, a meat course, cheese, and no fewer than three puddings.
‘Let’s hope we get through to pudding’, said Richard.
Ali, the Sommelier, who chose the wines for the evening, loving her work
Between courses, a chef came out of the kitchen to explain his or her dish.
“I love it when the chefs have to come out and describe their dish, in fully formed sentences”
commented Ali, as Harry emerged with his outstanding Vitello Tonnato.
Vitello Tonnato
Lauren invited us into the kitchen to plate our own fish course: halibut, carrot. buttermilk, fennel & Pernod velouté.
Lauren setting us the Halibut Challenge
The pressure was on.
On the pass: ‘Yes, chef!’
Ali was wearing a gold bunch of grapes as a brooch. Asked if it was her sommelier’s badge,
“Yes, I bought it on eBay – it’s bigger and more feminine than the official one”.
The pork was so good, I forgot to take a picture before getting stuck in.
We were presented with a menu at the end of the evening (to make sure we had been concentrating)
It was an outstanding and truly memorable experience. The different dishes were subtle, concentrated, beautifully executed – and the wines were marvellous, and thoughtfully chosen.
I’ll write about the food and wine pairings in my page ‘And to Drink?’
The team, led by the terrific duo of Lauren and Ali, is exceptional.
Murano by Angela Hartnett, 20-22 Queen Street, London W1J 5PP.
A calm and happy kitchen, and a real sense of welcome and hospitality front-of-house.
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.
Recipe of the year, 2019: foolproof fillet of beef.
My brother-in-law Richard Groves cooked this for his birthday dinner last year, and directed me to the recipe by Tom Kerridge, who serves it with Yorkshire puddings as a Sunday roast.
It’s counter-intuitive, in that it seems to take almost no cooking. It’s rare, deep pink and juicy, but releases no blood. (If any of your guests are squeamish about rare beef, you could flash fry their slices).
I cooked it on two occasions, and both times it went down a storm.
In summary, marinade a piece of beef fillet overnight in a mixture of black treacle and water. The next day, drain it and reserve the marinade. Pat the meat dry and sear it briefly in butter, then roast it for 45 minutes on the lowest possible setting of your oven.
Reduce the marinade by about half, and season to taste.
If you are a regular follower of this blog, you will by now have a supply of Anthony Bourdain’s demi glace in your freezer; this is the occasion to employ it.
“Some dishes know when you’re afraid. They sense it, like horses, and will ‘misbehave’. . . Do not be afraid”.
“Let me stress again: DO NOT EVER BOIL YOUR STOCK!”
“Your butter for finishing a saucewill be ready and on station. It will be f**king SOFT”.
If you failed to follow his advice, (and mine) you will have to make do with a splash of red wine. Add it to the reduced marinade, and finish with a knob of butter (soft, of course) if you feel cheffy.
Serve with Horseradish Crème Fraîche: mix crème fraîche, grated fresh horseradish and a good dollop of Dijon mustard. Taste it.
‘Do try this at home’
It was so successful, we decided to repeat the exercise as dinner for four in Norfolk, on two consecutive evenings during the August heatwave. We served it at ambient temperature, with a potato salad and simply dressed tomatoes.
It was possibly even better the next day, as a sort of deconstructed Surf ‘n’ Turf.
I’ve never really seen the point of steak and lobster on the same plate. We ate the lobster first, a good decision as it was the best and freshest lobster we’ve ever eaten.
Surf. Then Turf.
Friends had recommended C. A. Seafoods, run by the Westons, as purveyors of the freshest and cheapest crabs on the Norfolk coast (there are several Weston families in Norfolk who fish or deal in seafood).
Driving out of Weybourne village towards the station (the North Norfolk Railway, which runs steam trains from Sheringham to Holt) it’s one of the last houses on the left, with refrigerated vans outside, and a little sign on the pavement.
It went like this:
I walked up to the window, which opened as I approached. “I’m hoping to buy four half lobsters”
“Do we have any lobsters, Eileen?”
“I think so, I’ll go and look. Do you want ’em dressed?”
There were about eight ladies inside. In the time I waited, they finished picking and packing crabs (a couple of hundred at a rough count), and cleaned down, leaving the place spotless.
Sure enough, Eileen re-emerged with my lobsters, priced at a reasonable £6 a half.
In December 2019, the Westons opened a fishmonger’s shop in Sheringham:
A neon light outside gave the only clue to finding the restaurant.
You go down spiral concrete stairs with tiled walls, then two or three flights up.
It felt like going into a 1970s multistorey car park, or the entrance to a speakeasy.
‘Going down’
At the top of the stairs, we could hear noise from the bar to the left; we turned right towards the restaurant reception desk, next to glass cabinets where sides of beef were hanging, and an impressive collection of wine.
We’d found the right place.
“Hej! Välkommen!
Welcome to A. G.”
With this greeting from the Maitre D’, we knew we were in safe hands.
The chef was in evidence, taking calls.
Hands on chef
Once we were seated, good sourdough toast, striped from the griddle, quickly arrived at the table, along with irresistible whipped lard and rosemary (like rillettes, but the proportions of fat and meat are reversed)
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.
They were young, prosperous diners on the whole, mostly dressed in Swedish black, and with kronor to spare.
Carnivores bonding
The menu is varied, but as you’ve probably gathered by now, the steak is the thing. The different cuts are described in detail, with the breed, country of origin, and length of ageing.
Entrecote on the bone for two is a rib eye of Swedish beef, dry-aged in the restaurant’s meat room; they recommend it be served medium rare. It’s a massive steak.
We ordered one each (just kidding).
“Medium rare” was right for this cut; dry ageing takes moisture out of the meat, so it’s deep red, but not bloody. Cost was about £70 for two, for probably the finest piece of meat we’ll eat this year; they serve it with baked potatoes, Béarnaise and salad.
Dry-aged Entrecote of Swedish beef
Service is relaxed and confident: ‘You’ve eaten the best meat in Sweden’
The style is quirky; paper table covers, mismatched silver cutlery and coffee pots. The wine list is serious, as indicated by a full magnum decanter waiting at a serving point, beside two empty bottles of Tignanello Super Tuscan.
Playlist: we couldn’t hear it over the sound of Alpha Males bonding, bouncing off the white tiled walls.
Dinner came to £195 for two, including a bottle of Provence rosé and a couple of glasses of excellent Tuscan red (Mazzei).
As we were leaving, we heard the noise at the top of the stairs again, and were tempted to seek more fun. It was the ‘Tapas Bar’, Spanish, Italian…. ‘very New York’.
Smart restaurants in Stockholm tend to follow the American custom of colour-coded uniforms for staff.
The floor managers at A.G. were wearing cotton overshirts the colour of the steaks. Let’s call it Oxblood.
The fabric and relaxed cut looked familiar, and on closer inspection, I realised I had bought the identical shirt on the previous visit to Stockholm, at a shop called A Day’s March.
‘Helps you through the triumphs and troubles of everyday life with style and dignity’
I was glad I hadn’t worn it tonight.
A Swedish menswear label founded in 2014, A Day’s March is the distance an army can march in a day (obviously) and ‘helps you through the triumphs and troubles of everyday life with style and dignity’. I’m all for that.
A Day’s March have stores in Stockholm, Copenhagen and London.
Frenchie Restaurant in Paris opened on rue du Nil in 2015, and quickly became a hot ticket. We tried to book a table for dinner in May this year, but they still fill the restaurant months ahead.
Frenchie Wine Bar opposite doesn’t take reservations; it opens at 6.30pm, and the advice is to turn up early. We were first in line when the door opened. ‘Table for two?’
There are two small rooms, one with a view of the kitchen, the other of the bar. You sit on bar stools at shared tables.
We elected to sit right next to the glass partition looking into the kitchen, where we could watch every dish being prepared. It’s a tiny space, ruthlessly organised, where five staff were producing all the food: one male chef at the stove, two girls meticulously assembling cold mains and desserts, a female chef on the pass, and a washer-up.
‘Everything. I want to eat everything’
The friendly, helpful and informative waiting staff wear T shirts printed with the legend ‘Everything. I want to eat everything’, and reading the menu I began to see what they meant. Dishes are served when they’re ready, so we started by sharing three cold dishes.
Frenchie Wine Bar
An assembly of home made Ricotta, crumbled with confit Meyer lemon, fresh fava beans and peas, buckwheat for crunch and earthiness, and chive flowers, was a beautiful celebration of early summer – outstanding, one of the best dishes I’ve eaten this year (so far).
Ricotta, AKA summer in a bowl
Green lentil falafel came with smoky harissa, and pickled cucumber for sharpness and texture.
Green lentil falafel
A gutsy terrine with piccalilli and mustard seeds balanced textures and flavours, with sharp accents from the pickle. (It was so good, I failed to take a picture. Oh, the pressure).
Garnishing is precise, pretty and delicate; the chefs each carry tweezers clipped to their aprons, which they use to place herbs on each plate.
The sommelier wore a similar shirt to the waiters:
‘Everything, I want to drink everything’
Wines by the glass are poured at the table. We chose a petillant Montlouis from the Loire as an aperitif; gentle bubbles, golden colour.
A Cotes Catalanes rosé was a good match for our first dishes, with strawberry fruit and fresh acidity.
Then we went our separate ways. Pappardelle pasta for her, with lamb ragout, Kalamata olives and lemon confit. And another glass of rosé.
I picked crispy sweetbread nuggets with gribiche sauce. Two juicy morsels of moist tender veal arrived in a thick coat of crunchy batter perfection. Gribiche is a mayonnaise-style emulsion of hard-boiled egg yolks and mustard, finished with chopped cornichons, capers and herbs.
Crispy sweetbread nuggets, sauce gribiche
And a glass of red Saumur Champigny 2017, poured from a magnum; unusually intense and dark for the Appellation, a ‘fruit bomb’ of berries and herbs.
Be careful what you wish for
The owner and head chef is Gregory Marchand, the eponymous Frenchie. He earned the nickname working in the kitchen at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant Fifteen in London.
The London influence shows, there’s English wine on the list, and cheeses are from Neal’s Yard Dairy.
Gregory dropped in to observe the chefs at work and chat to them. I asked the waiter if I could say hello, if he wasn’t too busy – I met him last year at a panel discussion in London, where he has a restaurant in Covent Garden – and he came over to our table.
The sweetbreads were so good, I said I could eat another portion for dessert….
(I was joking).
A few minutes later, the waiter reappeared at the table with another plateful; he nodded towards the window behind me. There was Gregory outside, grinning, with his thumbs up to check I approved.
They were just as amazing the second time.
Frenchie
We resolved to go back next year and book ahead for the restaurant, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the wine bar is more fun, where you can arrive at 6.30 and stay as long as you want. There are clearly two sittings in the restaurant: 6.30 and 9.
Frenchie Restaurant
Playlist in the wine bar: high energy hip-hop, cool, funky and fun, much like Frenchie’s. It’s just on the right side of loud on arrival. As the evening progresses they either turn it down, or the clientele drown it out as the wine bar fills up.
Rue du Nil is a tiny street. As well as the restaurant and wine bar, there’s Frenchie To Go, and Frenchie’s wine shop.
Marchand’s energy has attracted a community of small and perfectly formed retailers to the street: a butcher, a fishmonger, a bakery, a greengrocer, a coffee roaster. A ‘bean to bar’ chocolate shop will open shortly.
