Staverton Bridge Nursery

Today we decided to take the lovely walk from Dartington to the Staverton Nursery.

This hangout is a little bit fluffy and cutesy with it's vintage crockery and silver cutlery, but the cakes are far from the pink cup cakes that I expected. The cakes were serious, full of flavour, moist and big. My Chocolate & Almond cake was perfectly bitter, as chocolate cake should be. The coffee was less than average, but I think this is pretty much my opinion on all coffee that's not Monmouth, Climpson or Allpress. So to normal people the coffee will be fine, but for pretentious pricks like me, beware. If you like good tea, they use a loose leaf from the Canton Tea Company, which is rather good.

I'm glad to see that stupid Cath Kidston-Esque cakes, which lack substance and character, are really on the way out. So cunts like the Humming Bird Bakery can simply shove their pretty little cup cakes up their pretty pink bleached anuses. Because that's all they're good for.

The same goes for Rachel Khoo, with her stupid fucking little restaurant. I wish programmes like this would stop projecting such a fake reality.

Pubs

I love the pub. A watering hole for social outcasts with nowhere else to go and it's the nearest thing they have to a family. Obviously the pub is a great place to hang out with your friends, but I do like those people who go to the pub on their own and join a club with all the other outcasts.


"Because the finest people that I've ever met are in pubs"


Oliver Reed.

A few years ago the smoking ban started and pubs began dropping off the map like lung cancer victims. So they've adapted in a Darwinian manner, survival of the fittest perhaps. Pubs need money to run, not fast legs. But you get the idea. Landlords have tried to get people to bring their kids in, serving coffee, attempting to become a gastro pub, quizzes, showcasing live music, live football, but unfortunately they feel less alive than ever. A sorry state indeed. A desperate state. But I'm sure when the dust settles, pubs will find there customers again. Not that I disagree with the smoking ban, I just want pubs to find their identity rather than having multi personalities to suit every customer's needs.


There are still some alright pubs knocking around, The Hour Glass, The Nobody Inn, The Bay Horse, these are my locals or regular hangouts. But all of them display elements of the above.




A particularly good example of a bad pub is The Cott Inn (Dartington).  I worked in this pub about 12 years ago and in 1996 it won some prestigious award like Pub of the Year, then it was all down hill. I definitely have a soft spot for the Cott Inn and I'd heard the food was now great again. But it really wasn't.


I ordered a bottle of Malbec (Aires Andinos) as we had beef on the mind, and it delivered, good stuff. But they suddenly sold out of the Braised Blade of Beef we desired. So my lady had a Sirloin and I had Fish 'n' Chips with the red wine! The steak was a complete embarrassment to cowkind. I think my main beef with the Cott is their over fancy menu with under fancy food. They described the tomato, which came with the steak, as "confit tomato', what ever the fuck that is. Maybe a tomato slowly cooked in its own oily juice? It turned out to be half a cheap tomato with a green bit of garlic and a sprig of thyme placed on top. Utter guff. But in contrast to other pubs I've eaten in recently, it was a real let down. In the week I had a Ribeye Steak from the Hour Glass (Exeter), near perfection.

So my Cod and Chips, probably not the best choice in a so called fancy pub, but I did find the menu really hard work. It came with half my chips in a mock newspaper cone (using The F.T. which is actually quite funny) and the rest scattered on the plate for my tiny, over cooked bit of cod to sit on. My bland Mushy peas and highly acidic Tartare sauce served in little glass bowls, totally gutts. To be fair the chips were OK, but the ultimate disapointment was the cheap Tomato Sauce and Mayonaise. When a pub is serving that standard of condiments it is a bad foundation to work on. Mayonnaise is very easy to make from scratch, so why buy in cheap catering mayo?


The Beer Engine (Near Exeter) serves real mayonnaise and the waiting staff almost apologised when then brought it out, and said "just to warn you, it tastes different to normal mayonnaise". 


What next? "I'm sorry we ran out of Bisto, so we knocked up some beef stock from veal bones, I hope that's OK!".



I don't like to review an eatery until I've scoffed there a few times. But I don't want to go back to the Cott for food, maybe a pint, but not dinner. 


Just a quick note. I had a pretty good Sunday Roast in the Dartmoor Lodge today and I'll go back. The Cott probably do a Sunday Confit Dinner. They really are a bunch of confit bell-ends, simmered in their own piss vinegar. Piss 'n' Chips.

The Good, The Best and the Big Ugly

I had quite a week of dining out, first the Good, I went to Riverford Field Kitchen for a birthday dinner, which I can say again, the food is consistantly amazing, all about flavour and that joint is still my favourite restaurant. I won't go into it, as I've already said enough here.


Next the Best, I took my Mother to Gidleigh Park (for her birthday) which is, according to the Sunday Times Top Restaurant list, the 3rd best place to stuff your face (Last year it was 1st). This swanky hang out is amazing, nestled in a lush green valley on the edge of Dartmoor, surrounded by some beautiful gardens, apparently there are 6 full time gardeners and the last thing you do here is stuff your face. This was seriously posh, a little on the uncomfortable side for me, but what's the worst that could happen? Well I did slip on my way to the toilet and smash my head on a door frame for all the staff to see. I just laughed and the staff tried not to.

Everything in this place is perfect. All the waiting staff are French, young, good looking and well trained. The building and setting are imaculate. The food looks like a work of art, has flavour to die for and the portions are just right. The only snag is the price. As I sipped my pre dinner drink in the conservatory admiring the view of the gardens, Dartmoor and the crystal clear and perfectly square ice cubes in my Mother's drink, I wondered why Gidleigh are charging 3 times the RRP for their drinks. It's obvious, the stuff I just mentioned costs a lot of money. The cleaning, the 6 gardeners, the well trained waiting staff and those perfect ice cubes. So if you can look past paying £50 for a bottle of Sharpham wine which normally cost around £9, then you should go and have an amazing time. I'm not being sarcastic here. You just need to realise that the drinks are over priced and you need to accept this to enjoy yourself. Also remember you are paying for the experience of drinking that liquid not just the actual liquid. My only criticism is that the drinks should be as special as everything else. Maybe freshly pressed apple juice from local apples, instead of Luscombe bottled juice, which you can buy anywhere. Or some obscure beers from around the world, rather than Hoegaarden and some rare whiskies, rather than the usual line up in your average gastro pub.


Just go and experience something very special. Fuck the cost, and if money is an issue, stop going to the bloody pub or eating out at average restaurants. Just book far in advance as it's always full and wear plenty of Tweed, trust me, lots of Tweed.


And finally the Ugly. I went to Bristol on Saturday to visit some old friends who have moved there recently. Bristol has a good vibe on the food front and I love The Thali Cafe, but the Ikea meatballs I had for lunch were rank. Anyway, the plan was to visit the largest restaurant in the UK, Za Za Bazaar (what a shit name, and quite forgettable) a 700 seater, all you can eat buffet which looks like a Hong Kong back alley, with cuisines from every corner of the globe! Sounds like hell? It was. I read a couple of reviews on it and they were all quite forgiving and the consensus was 'It's not as bad as I thought it would be' or 'It wasn't that bad'.

First we arrived to be turned away because we hadn't booked, in a 700 hundred seater restaurant, with another 300 seats in the bar. I thought they were joking. The place stank of trash, both the sort you see on The Only Way is Essex and the rubbish kind, as we walked past the back kitchens staff chucked what looked like dead bodies into giant dumpsters, rancid fat was in the air. But the worst trashiness was the Essex kind, with stupid door staff and a stupid woman on a desk with a computer checking your table booking and giving you an allocated time slot to 'Eat as much as you can'. Fucking trash. What a contrast to Gidleigh, where we didn't have time to eat desert because we'd been there for 3 hours and had to take the dog for a walk. We were eventually let in and there were plenty of tables, twats, and we looked at lots of depressed people waiting in line to collect their food like they were in prison. Fuck this. We left and went to a nearby place as a last resort and it pretty good. No. 1 Harbourside.

This gaff only has 5 things on the menu, but quality things when compared to that monstrosity we'd just visited. It's hard to get a table, but with perseverance we did it. They'd sold out of Mussels, no wonder as they were only £5. Unfortunately they'd sold out of my second choice, the Lamb, so I settled on the Pork along with a plate of Oysters. First I gulped a couple of pints of Sunrise from the Bristol Beer Factory and then our complementary Soup arrived, I didn't really want it, but everyone gets it, a kind of USP. It was nice, Carrot & Ginger. My main was great and the oysters were good. I sank a couple of sweet  Sipsmith G&T's and we went on our way. Job done.












Oh, and sorry for the Instagrammed photos, it's just a phase and I'll get over it soon.

Exceeding good bullshit

I love a dirty Battenberg, another guilty pleasure of mine. But do you see that Mr Kipling is such a nice guy, that he only uses eggs from happy hens running around in fields? Well shove an egg up my cunt, they also have 100% natural flavours! See that?

As from 1st of Jan this year all UK eggs are free-range or from 'enriched' cages. And this is an EU law. I'm just annoyed that Kipling didn't commit to this decision years ago. Even fucking Wetherspoons and Mac Donald's had the sense to switch to free range eggs well before the ban on 'bad eggs'. But now this fucking twat (Kipling) wants to advertise on his packaging that he uses free-range eggs. What a prick. It's like advertising that his employees don't use drugs. No, its worse than that. If all his employees where drug uses and had now stopped, it would be similar.

Kipling uses 60 Million eggs a year, thats a lot. So the company was commended for the achievement of switching to free-range.

What about all the companies that had the ethics to never to use eggs from battery hens? Where's their fucking award? What about the 50 years of animal cruelty caused by Kipling not using free-range eggs? He deserves punishment.

This reminds me of when Nescafe released a 'Fair-trade' instant coffee alongside its unfair-trade coffee. Just to test the market. Why doesn't a corporation like Nestle have the bollocks to commit to an ethos. Another example is when one of those horrible coffee chains (Costa or Nero I can't remember, they're all the same consistent crap) decided to give the customer the option to make their coffee fair-trade by charging an extra 10p. Just commit you bunch of cunts. 

Oh and I'd say that his cakes are 'exceedingly average' not good. What a dickhead statement anyway. Kipling you prick.


The company says, "Mr. Kipling exists in the hearts and minds of Manor Bakeries' employees and all cake lovers, but not in fact as a real person. He was created over 30 years ago to represent the exceedingly good cakes the company was producing and now encapsulates everything the brand stands for, and personifies what is good about the company - its vision, its values and insistence on quality."


If he was a real person I'd like to punch him in the face and kick Mrs Kipling right in the cunt. 






















And beat up their fucking cunt kids.

Work Beer

Merry Christmas.

I love having a beer as I finish the working day, particularly on an empty stomach.  It helps me wind down and helps build an appetite.

Tonight I had this amazing white ale from Iceland (not the CHD supermarket). It apparently has tasting notes of coriander and orange peel.

If you see it, try it - http://www.einstokbeer.com/

People in Exeter can get it here - http://www.whistlewines.com/

Pasta

I made one of my favourite meals last night, which is fresh pasta with Garlic & Chilli Olive Oil. You basically slowly cook a bulb of finely grated garlic and a couple of thinly sliced chilies in lots of extra virgin Olive Oil. Leave it in a pan for about half an hour and on a very very low heat. Boil your pasta in heavily salted water, you don't have to use fresh stuff, any kind of pasta will do, although these guys would disagree - The Geometry of Pasta. They also suggest 12g of salt to 1L of water. I'm not really into the idea of weighing things, but it's a good book and worth buying for the stunning graphic design.

When the pasta is cooked, drain it, but keep some of the starchy pasta water, this is to be mixed with the oil and will become your sauce. So yeah, mix it all up, the oil, pasta and a cup of starchy water. Zest a bit of lemon over it and a big squeeze of the juice. Serve with thinly sliced fresh basil and tons of Parmesan or Pecorino or Grana Padano. This will give you lovely breath, but kick your mouth in the cunt with flavour.


I ended up drinking a lot of wine and getting rather stoned, so the washing up was left til this morning. As I entered the the kitchen in search of breakfast, I discovered an oily pan full of sticky garlic and chilli, so I fried a couple of scoffy eggs in this dirty pan and toasted some giant sourdough soldiers to dip in the golden yolks. Oh, what's that? A little bit of left over Pecorino in a bowl? Why not?

Poor Old Quiche

I've always hated what I thought was Quiche, but actually it can be pretty good. The supermarkets sell what look like yummy asparagus & salmon frisbees, which have been festering in a cardboard box for days. These things are always a disapointment. But as I'm writting this I'm eating a quiche so fucking tasty I have to constantly take a break from typing to shove some in my mouth. Here comes another mouthful! Scoff!

I'm sure this has been done before, but to me it started more as a joke, but then I really liked the idea, cooked it and then I started eating the thing and then loved it.


Basically it's a squash (you can use any type) with the seeds removed and a load of quiche mixture shoved in there. Because it takes such a long time to cook the squash make the mixture a little more liquidy than usual. Good times.




onion
eggs
splash of milk
nutmeg
salt
chili powder
cheddar
1/2 a lemon (juice and a little zest)
thyme




Use these ingredients and you will have a very tasty quiche. You are not a moron, so add your own stuff, mix and match ingredients. Your kitchen, your rules. Here are some variations I just made up, they may be dogshitpiss, but cooking is all about experimentation and fun.

onion

eggs

dash of cream

nutmeg

salt

pepper

goats cheese

1/2 a lemon (juice and a little zest)

rosemary

or if you want to be really fucking crazy

red onion

eggs

coconut milk

ginger

salt

fresh red chilli

bacon lardons

1/2 a lime (juice and a little zest)

fresh coriander

I think the reason I like this idea so much is because pastry is a bit of a bore, I can never be bothered to make it, cook with it or eat it.