From peat to peat

During Spring my Father and I went on a trip to Scotland to tour the whisky distilleries of the West coast, what’s known as the Islay malts (plus Talisker). These whiskies are defined by their heavy particle per million rate (ppm) of peat – giving them a smoky flavour. But this does not mean each is a bruiser – the ppm rate in this region varies from 10 at the low end to a throat killing 70ppm at the top. But how is this peaty magnificence achieved? Read on dear friend, read on….

So the trip started with a brutally early journey to Stanstead. We had paid more to avoid the early flight, but good old budget airline changed the time to vicious-o-clock. Arriving in Glasgow Prestwick, we were met by a superbly friendly gnome like chap from the local car rental place who took us to our awaiting chariot. A beautiful Fiesta was powered up by Senor Pond; he was the designated driver. First pit stop – petrol station – how different to London: locally cooked sausage roll as an eating delight. We then powered on to Lock Lomond for a beautiful break and a cup of coffee (the place was a severe tourist trap with lunch time steaks coming in at £20 for a rump – entry level price).

The journey took us on a wonderful trip through the Highlands until we reached Tarbert, a tiny little fishing town that was once a centre of wealth. The first night’s stop was pleasant and we were fed with an exceptional, and exceptionally large, Scottish breakfast. Ferry time and to Islay we went. Laphroig, Kilchoman and Bruichladdie distilleries visited and strong opinions on all, but too much content for one mere blog post. Onwards and upwards: Isle of Skye and Talisker – the old man’s favourite before we went, but now perhaps converted to Laphroig. Try the quarter cask 12 year which is currently available from Sainsburys at just under £30. Nice.

We took a long walk around Skye, which cleared away hangovers and cleared the lungs. Two thirds around, Mr Pond sank in a giant bog of peat and I had to use all of my might to pull him out. And so peat to peat.

So why the peaty flavour? Well, the barley is soaked in water to start the fermentation process and then it is dried on an open floor over the smoke of burning peat. Controlling the amount of peat used in this process delivers the ppm and the flavour you are looking for. You may be a Speyside advocate but I say no!

Part 2 of this post is for those with an interest in whisky and shall explore the distilleries we visited in more detail.

Pigged out

On a recent holiday to Andalucica we consumed vast amounts of pork, partly by choice and partly by fate. We had taken the Moro cook book with us to serve up some of the food from our favourite restaurant whilst in one of its countries of origin. At the same time, we were staying in a little, traditional townhouse that belongs to a friend of my parent’s, so mother and father kindly stocked the fridge for us – and pig was their preferred purchase. So the scene was set for a pork odyssey and consumption commenced.



Iberian hams

The Serrano ham comes from the high mountains of the Andalucia region of Spain. It is cured in perfect conditions, high up in the Andalucian hills, with hot summers, cold winters and low humidity. The hams are cured using a time honoured tradition, passed down through the generations and using traditional methods and recipes. Yum. However, far better than Serrano ham, in my opinion, is Pata Negra Bellota. Pata Negra simply means Iberian ham; the Bellota denotes that the big has been bread on acorns. According to Spain's Denominación de Origen rules on food products, jamón ibérico may be made from cross-bred pigs as long as they are at least 75% ibérico. These pigs are bred in the forests on the boarder between Spain and Portugal and so fall outside of the remit of this Andalucian post. But this ham is super-lush-arama. You can buy it in Borough Market but prepare for a wallet battering at £16.50 / 100g.

La Chinata

p111 of Moro’s first cook book brought our attention to this fine ingredient. This is a smoked paprika which is apparently used a lot in traditional Spanish cooking, although we found it hard to source while we were out there. Quoting from Moro, “before being ground the peppers are dried over oak fires to impart a distinctive smoky quality” and it adds a really subtle but distinctive flavour to your cooking. Again it can be purchased in Borough Market, but be kinder to your wallet, go to a decent sized Sainsburys.

Moorish skewers

Lurking on p108 of the Moro book are these delightful bbq numbers, perfect for the current weather. Using a really quick-to-assemble marinade, pork cooked over charcoal with this flavouring has a distinctive red wine vinegar, garlic and spices taste. We cooked them on a disposable bbq down by the beach. Happy days.



Why the obsession with pork?

Whilst on holiday I discovered why the Spanish love pork so much. This may be familiar to you but was certainly a learning for me. As we know, the Moors pushed from North Africa throughout Spain before Ferdinand and Isabella booted them out. The region benefited from the science and agricultural skills of this Islamic infusion and the magnificent impact can be seen in towns such as Ronda, Cordoba and Grenada. But of course, at the time, the Spanish objected to being invaded and subjugated, so they ate pork to spite their Muslim conquerors. How fascinating I say. So our vast consumptions of pork was well fitting – we even ate pork cheeks!


The bridge at Rhonda

Jamon Jamon

So what inspired me to start posting again, because admittedly I have been away for a while? Jamon Jamon is a little tapas place on Parkway in Camden. I really object to paying London prices for tapas food because it is over-inflated but I was pleasantly pleased by this place. With a retractable roof it’s a nice summer spot and has a great selection of Spanish wines (including white Rioja, which is worth exploring). If you search online for reviews you’ll receive negative comments so maybe our experience was not an accurate representation of the place, but we found the food to be great and the atmosphere relaxed. The one criticism was a lack of staff, which meant the two waitresses were super stressed and service was slow. But I reckon this place is good and I will be checking out their 7 quid lunchtime deal.

Oink and out

We all love a good holding pattern

So my blogging presence has been appalling of late. It's amazing how two back to back holidays can disrupt the writing flow, although I'm sure Web 2.0 puritans would not forgive such behaviour.

What have I been up to? Well, a week in Andalucia, which inspired the impending blog post "Pigged Out"; a whisky distillery tour in Scotland with the old man, "From peat to peat" shall follow; a wonderful bank holiday lunch at Moro, which will provide my first review of this favourite establishment; a dabble with Camden thai; disappointment at Belgo Nord, again.

This post clearly constitutes a holding pattern piece; but rest assured, the full flow shall follow soon.

One love to Mr Lundy who I saw recently on his way to Rome and big respects to the Lostbanhoff crew, I had an awesome Bank holiday rave courtesy of Benji and Shark.

Last thoughts: at the moment I am loving gin and tonic, but don't fall for the Tanqueray marketing hype - Bombay Sapphire rules every time (although the father-in-law-to-be-in-the-future sticks firmly to Plymouth dry gin). Our keyboard is back to front with the @ and " sign. Why? Why? Why? A creature bit me in the arm on Friday night and now my entire arm is full of inflammation and agony. I want to kill little creatures. Call me St Patrick of NW1, the biting creature purifier.

Have you listened to 'Welcome to Jam Rock'? It's on currently' I'm not convinced. Hit me with some reggae recommendations and bring on the croquet....

Tender beef lips

As I sit and type a long overdue post (I've been on holiday) on my new Blackberry Bold (it's sick) I find it hard not to salivate about the topic of this tale: tender cuts of beef, lovingly served with expertise in exclusive surroundings. Yes, I am writing about Gauchos.

Any of you who know me may be shocked at this point - not a fan of style for style's sake, I usually consider places that I lovingly refer to as (s)wanky as exactly that, but with the brackets and their content removed. But somehow someway, Gaucho bowled me over. Perhaps it was the company, perhaps it was the superb waitress, or indeed my excellent selection of New Zealand red, but something changed my thinking toward central London dining.

A shrine to beef consumption, Gaucho Piccaddily is high end class and value to money to boot. 50 quid per person delivered beer, wine, perfectly cooked steaks and delightful sides, cheese and port...well of course it would be rude not to old boy. The seductively dark decor made any sense of time disappear and my dining comrades and I were lost in a hedonistic black-hole of rare meat indulgence, but avoided any unfortunate anti-matter (except for a family introducing crying babies at the end).

So the tide of the Pond may have been turned. There is, however, a Gaucho in Hampstead - if that's up to par, I'll be able to consume cattle without leaving the North London raunch. The only down side is the planet. Cows are one of the most ecologically unsound animals to breed. Perhaps I'll offset this environmental injustice, if only I could do the same for my gut.

Locked down

Down at the lock. As the sun starts to threaten over the Camden sky, an obvious spot to chill at is by the lock, but with a multitude of venues to choose from, what is one to do? Well the good news is that most spots are good, obviously different venues for different purposes. Starting on the Camden side of the lock, we have Lloyds, a cheap drink haven that feels like you are drinking in any regional city centre; Peterborough, Watford, Leeds. Now, this is not necessarily a 100% bad thing, there is a time and place for being chavtastic, but it is not on a Friday night as I recently discovered by going there in error…,But with beers at a pound, it’s a reasonable afternoon drinking and sports watching spot.

Crossing the fairy bridge (although unfortunately the fairy lights have been removed from the tree...) we first come to the Lockside Lounge. A long bar, the atmosphere does not suffer from the shape and it also has a decent outside area where you can sit and overlook the going-ons of the food market. I ate here for the first time the other day and was very happy – solid pub grub done well. Across from here we have Lock 17, an old time favourite. The beers on tap are not to my preference, and it is sometimes difficult to get served, but this place has great DJs – formerly liquid D&B on a Thursday and this awesome old(er) chap on a Friday. With three floors an outside space, there’s plenty of nooks and crannies to explore in here, and the drinks are reasonably priced.

Crossing the road, you could come to In Spiral Lounge, a kind of hippee-festival vibed place that only sells vegetarian, organic food and organic drinks to match – try their special beers. The music in here is wicked and you can sit down by the canal, so it makes a great end-of-evening spot, in my opinion.

Going back in to the Stables area, we come to the Proud Gallery – a trendy spot for trendy kids, but also worth checking out. The building is divided in to three areas – a photo gallery, a large, open-plan live music space and then an actual stables area – where you and your chums can sit inside a stable like a horse and admire the cobbled streets. Drinks are not cheap here and beer is only in bottles, which is a no-no in my book. But if you are looking for a bit of fun and a change to the typical Camden watering holes, pop in.

So there’s some comments on a few of the venues immediately by the lock. Obviously a short walk away are other venues such as the Hawley Arms, the Lock Tavern and the Bar that Flies, all of these shall be discussed in later instalments. I’d also like to talk about Dingwalls and Jongleurs, both within the same building as Lock 17, so eyes will be peeled for a suitable gig and a suitable comedy night.

And let’s just hope the sun comes out.

Crawl was the result rather than the action

The pondman inaugural camden pub crawl took place last weekend and was a marvellous event indeed. Although we only completed a third of the course and didn't progress from the green zone, much fun was had by all.

A punctual arrival by the Scot guaranteed an early start, but seeing as the rest of the crew were not yet in Camden, the start was defined by a spot of breakfast in the Camden Kitchen. Very well cooked bacon and eggs were devaoured but at the cost of 10 quid per person, I felt somewhat done.

The crawl assembly point was the Edinboro Castle on Delancey st, where we were greeted by friendly staff proactively looking for feedback on the venue. I told them that the main issue was the slowness of service, otherwise it's an awesome pub. They reassured me that measures were in place to address this, including the addition of a self service beer pump in the garden. You heard it here first....

Having exceeded the allocated time in this venue by 300 per cent, we progressed to the Dublin Castle, full of teenagers, this is a camden trendy spot with matching grit and stinky toilets. A big floor allowed the Scot to bounce around like the madman that he is.

Thoughts turned to the football and eating so we progressed to the Spread Eagle where the attornery-pix had burgers that looked delicious. The availability of Red Stripe on tap was a welcome relief from the standard five per-centers, and the quiz machine provided a reason to re-engage the brain.

Crossing the road to the Earl of Camden, a table was miraculously secured to watch the football, which was a result considering there were about ten of us. The arrival of the Cynic initated the consumption of spirits, and the inevitable descent in to crawling. A sterling effort on jagger-bombs was put in by all, which saw the first leavers depart at about nine.

A hardcore crew of five people remainded to the end and then progressed to a house party, where a cab was very quickly required for my goodself.

A good first run, the pondman pub crawl saw a top group of people reunited and having a booze-filled Saturday afternoon of fun. Hard on the wallet and even harder on the liver, this may well become a bi-annual event - pencil in Saturday 1st of August for the next one.

The route will remain the same until it is completed and no man or woman is left standing. crawling is the new walking, don't you know.

Not a wack job.

On Friday night, my good self and side kicks, the monster, the pixie and the attorney, went to Sushiwacka, the most excellent Japanese restaurant, located on Parkway in Camden.

I can not praise this marvellous establishment enough. By far and away the best sushi I have had in London, this place is small, cosy, super-friendly and authentic. The fish was amazingly fresh, the tempura was light yet crunchy and the udon soup tasted just like it did in Japan.

A small family run operation, this place is focused on delivering quality, at a fair price. By far and away my favourite restaurant in north London.