two tea shops

In the High Street of Wotton-Under-Edge is a place called the Wotton Coffee Shop, (the High Street is actually called Long Street, I Think), anyway this was the least crowded of several tea shops in the village (town?). It had quite a nice interior but the counter area looked a bit like the sort of counter area you might get in a village hall or community centre - sort of cheap and tatty-looking. The staff were podgy middle-aged blonde women, they were slightly sullen and heavy handed but were not life-threatening. The cream tea was really good - warm fruit scones, tubs of Rhodda's Clotted Cream (wish they'd bring back those lovely copper-foil lids) - but the weak point was the jam, tiny tubs of a sort of strawberry-flavoured paste - and there was no butter to go with it, though they supplied some when we (I) asked. Otherwise, quite a nice little place but not one to rush back to.
The other is the cafe in Jolly's Department store in Bath, on the lower ground floor at the back of the building, not the posher restuarant upstairs. This place was ok, the man behind the counter was quite Jolly himself, looked like a balding Andy Murray. I had a cappucino which tasted like an espresso with some froth on top, very very strong. And an egg and bacon sandwich that was let down by the ordinary bread, as most sandwiches are, but then one side of it was going hard, which even on a sunday, isn't good. Nothing special about this place, in fact, hardly worth mentioning, like a poor man's Costa Coffee, don't really know why I'm mentioning it at all.

Saxe-Coburg Soup

Have been dreading making this soup, and putting it off for a few days. It seemed like a good idea when I found it in the Readers Digest Farmhouse Cookery Book, but the thought of sprouts, ham and cream floating about in a bowl started to seem unappealing, as I began to see it through my children's eyes. However, it turned out to be a real delight - rich yet delicate, with a mustily English undertone. It comes from the Victorian era, commemorating the German side of the Royal family. Here's how I made it

Fry a chopped onion gently in 2 ounces of butter for ten minutes. Add 12 ounces of trimmed, sliced sprouts and two ounces of finely chopped ham. Season and add some gratings of nutmeg. Add about an ounce of flour, stir all around and add two pints of stock (veg or chicken, doesn't matter - apparently the traditional stock is veal), simmer for a few more minutes, blend in a liquidizer, but not for long, so it remains bitty, return to heat and add another two ounces of ham cut into matchsticks, and a dash of double cream. I almost felt it didn't need the cream, it looked pretty creamy already, and ceratinly didn't add the quarter pint of the recipe, so just add what you feel is enough. Serve with croutons.

Castle Coch

A fairytale castle outside Cardiff, poking out of the trees above a valley full of engineering sheds, Castle Coch is a sweet little folly that looks like it has been airlifted from Bavaria. The best thing about it, though, is the cafe, which you can visit without paying the castle entrance fee. The Bakestone Cafe is tucked into an oddly shaped room in a corner of the castle, and serves very Welsh themed food which is simple, solid and wholesome. The best thing to have is the Lamb Cawl, basically a lamb stew with carrots, swede, parsnip etc. Despite grabbing a handful of salt and pepper sachets we found it didn't require any seasoning, was perfectly made, and came with an inch thick slice of brown bread and a triangle of garlic cheese in green wax. Cawl should not be confused with caul - the amniotic sac or peritoneum which covers some babies' heads when they are born (and thus confers psychic powers or protection from drowning (see David Copperfield)Lamb Cawl has nothing to do with that particular anatomical feature, and instead is just a word for stew derived, probably, from a word for a vegetable root). Also good is the Welsh Rarebit. My daughter's cheese and ham toastie was also very well made, generously portioned and came with enough salad to be a meal in itself. There were solid, hefty but tasty-looking cakes, and the menu was heavy with welsh cheeses, which you could have with almost anything. Even the milkshakes were generous, full of big thick bubbles. Then afterwards you can walk up the hill through the woods and play with sticks, climb trees, swing on vines, pulverise rotten tree stumps, or just walk around. Castle Coch's cafe is a real delight, you should go there, but not for the next month (this is 3rd Jan 2010) because it is closed for refurbishment. Hope this doesn't mean any change to the character and atmosphere or food.

Pappy's Tiny Tea Shop

Spent New Year's Day walking the hills around Cheddar Gorge, along steep paths of frozen mud, watching goats nibbling the bark on the little trees, admiring the clear views across the Somerset Levels to the sea and the distant uplands of Exmoor. Then down the 272 steps of Jacob's Ladder to the bottom of the Gorge and a search for a cup of tea. I do love tatty tourist tat places, and the shops along the bottom of the Gorge are a good example, have had hit and miss experiences at cafes here, from the cold, bland and hostile to the slightly less cold, bland and hostile, but this time, by good fortune (few places were open and those that were open were full), we came upon Pappy's Tiny Tea Shop, which is indeed tiny, and is just about the first building you come across as you travel down the Gorge from the upper end (the second building is the public lavatories next door). But Pappy's was a delight, mainly on account of its friendly atmosphere, the blond woman who runs it (not sure if she's Pappy or not) is very friendly and welcoming, as though slightly desparate for you to be happy, and the food was good, even though I didn't have anything. My wife's bacon roll was really a baguette packed with bacon (but where was the butter!?) and my daughter's cheeseburger was perfectly cooked and generous with cheese, though the burger itself was just a fried frozen thing, and my son had a Cornish pasty, which wasn't any such thing -a flaky pastry bundle containing mashed up meat and carrots - but then what does one expect from a place like Pappy's? A lot more, I suppose, but then my hot chocolate was generous with cream and marsh mallow and lovingly compiled, and was, unusually, quite chocolatey, but it was served in a glass mug - I hate glass mugs! Never mind. It's one level up from a good layby snack shack (and there are some very good ones - there's one in the Peak District I'm thinking of, but can't quite pinpoint in my memory, and besides, it might not be there any more) Pappy's has seats for about twelve people on three tables, and has a takeaway hatch as well, and a blackboard of extensive panninis and sandwiches. It also sells hilarious things to hang on your wall, like signs that say 'how many men does it take to change a loo roll? Answer - no one knows, it's never happened'. WTF? Anyway, warm hearty atmosphere is almost equalled by the warmth and heartiness of the food.

Inroduction

This is a blog about food. It is about what I eat and the places I eat it. The food I make and the food I read about. It is also about drink, what I drink and where I drink it. It is mainly a record of any thoughts I have about food. I am not a chef or restauranteur, I don't have any training in any aspect of food, but I have a clumsy, ongoing fascination with it, and feel a need to write clumsily about it.

I'll start by describing the first thing I made this year, which was a fillet of pork tenderloin stuffed with black pudding. Oh this was such an easy thing to make, yet looked very impressive. Ridiculously impressive. This is what I did-

I got a fillet of pork tenderloin which is rather like a large natural sausage, coming from somewhere around the lower back of the pig (under the backbone, I think) - readily available in supermarkets these days, mine was in a long vacuum pack. I cut it in two then sliced each piece lengthways and opened it up like a book. Then I got some good quality black pudding and placed it in the middle of each piece, then folded the meat over, closing the book, as you might say, and trimming off bits of black pudding that stuck out. Then I wrapped both pieces in streaky bacon, put them in a roasting tin and then in a quite hot oven for about half an hour. Then when they were nice and cooked-looking, I took them out and sliced them with a very sharp knife into half-inchish slices. Then I poured some honey and lemon juice into the pan with the meat juices and stirred that around for a little while. Meanwhile, I'd boiled some spinach, and made a bed of it on each plate, placed the slices of stuffed pork on top of the spinach and then drizzled the honey-gravy over the top. Served this with some buttered tagliatelli, it was fantastic. The bacon had infused the outer layer of pork with a rich pink colour, so each slice was a lovely variety of colours with the outer crispy layer of bacon, the varying shades of pork, then the black stripe of pudding in the middle.