Restaurant Scrapbook - Benares

As a treat for turning another year older, my other half took me to Atul Kochar's Michelin-starred Benares on Berkeley Square, somewhere I've been dying to try for ages (especially since Atul was a special guest teacher in our last week at Leiths). Benares offers Indian cuisine of the finest order, with recipes taking their inspiration from all over the sub continent.

HINT: For readers' reference, my restaurant scrapbooks are loooong. They basically consist of every note written, every mouthful recalled, every feature noted, from my meal - they are not intended as a formal review, but if you read through you should come away with a clear idea of whether the restaurant is one you would like, and you'll certainly be in no doubt what I thought!

The restaurant is as luxurious and chic as one would expect from somewhere occupying a piece of prime Mayfair real estate, and the servers are typically polite and particularly well informed, both about their customers and about the food they are serving. Arriving at 7.30pm, we were shown impeccable service for the first half of our meal, however it slowed to an almost tiresome level by the end as the restaurant filled up - having to chase waiters for my coffee is not something I would expect to have to do here, but it happened. This was the only failure of the whole evening however, as the meal itself was the most flawless I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying.

We had the 'grazing' menu (aka tasting menu), with accompanying wines to match - at Benares the grazing meal comes as four courses of three dishes each, plus amuse bouche and coffee/petit fours, and one wine arrives for each trio 'course'. At £99 each for the meal and wines it was exceptional value for money, although the delicious-sounding cocktail menu is less so, with average prices of around £15-20 each!

Prior to our amuse bouche, we were treated to that mainstay of any British Indian restaurant - poppadoms and chutneys. I'm not normally a fan of poppadoms, seeing them solely as a tasteless vehicle for massive amounts of lime pickle, but these mini versions were a complete delight - light, ultra crunchy, utterly grease free and with some actual wheaty flavour. The chutneys were all homemade and fabulous - gooseberry was the surprise savoury-sweet-sharp winner, but the others (carrot, tomato and mango-cumin) were all superb as well. The tomato was bursting with fresh cherry tom flavour, but with a distinct musky spice taste - how I imagine the word 'bosky' tastes.

Our amuse bouche was a tiny ball of minced lamb with a tiny injection of mint chutney on top, and resting on yoghurt raita and a rich reduced tamarind sauce. The texture was dry, almost falafal-like, but the chutneys and raita balanced it with moisture perfectly, and the spices all blended just so. It was served with a glass of Atul's 'signature' wine, a white from Domaine du Grande Mayne which was described to us as an ideal palate cleaner and it was exactly that, a lightly oaked single variety Sauvignon.

Our first trio 'course' was Salad of prawns pickled with Indian five spice; Terrine of confit duck leg; Curry leaf and tarragon infused lobster rillet, all served with fennel seed naan glazed with honey and saffron. The prawn had a great chilli heat and was squeakily fresh; the highly spiced duck collapsed into shards of meltingly tender meat heavy with cardamom and five spice. Topped with a refreshing quenelle of apple and aniseed puree, it would have won best dish so far, were it not for the last of the trio.

The lobster rillet was tender shellfish wrapped up in a creamy, herby sauce that perfectly complimented the lobster without masking it. Without a doubt it was the best seafood I have ever had - and B agreed. Etiquette went out the window as we tore off hunks of the delicious naan and wiped the plate clean of every last morsel. As if the dishes themselves weren't fabulous enough, the plate was dusted with a mystery powder of deep intensity, and a hint of almost porky savouriness - an interrogation of the waiter revealed it to be black salt and toasted cumin - and we mopped up every last crumb.

An Indian meal would not feel quite right without a gloriously soothing hot towel, and at Benares they deliver these as a little party piece - two white pellets on a tiny plate were brought to our table, smelling deeply of lavender and violet. A jug of steaming water is poured onto the pellets, and they erupt upwards like razorclams extruding from their shells - completely unnecessary but all the more amusing and diverting for that.

The second course was slightly different for the two of us - we both had Tandoor roasted quail in red chilli and yoghurt marinade; and Spiced minced lamb skewer (a seekh kebab). B's third dish was Mustard flavoured monkfish tail with tamarind glaze, and mine a classic tandoori chicken, done with saffron rather than red chilli, so it had a completely different flavour profile to the tandoori quail. Salt-phobics beware, both the seekh and the quail were extremely salty, but the accompanying bitter mint chutney cut through it well, and the accompanying "La Rocca" Soave refreshed the mouth between bites so it wasn't overwhelming. The quail was lightly crusted in chilli infused breadcrumbs and was powerfully hot (although still nothing like a high street vindaloo, for example). This nearly fatless bird managed an amazing feat by being crisp on the outside and stunningly tender and juicy within, it was a mini feast of bone-gnawing and finger-licking. B's monkfish had a real 'by the bone' meaty flavour, and once again the use of a rich reduced tamarind sauce worked a treat. The trio came with a little pile of rocket, sunblush tomatoes, olives and tiny nuggets of goats cheese, dressed in a little sharp vinaigrette which again acted as a balance to the salt of the meats.

Our last savoury course was English corn fed chicken supreme with a ginger sauce and Roasted rump of lamb on rosemary chickpeas. B's third dish was goujons of john dory in a crisp gram flour batter, which looked so good I almost regretted opting for a mystery alternative, until my plate was put before me, containing the largest king prawn I have ever seen, coated in a spicy onion sauce. It was so huge it looked more like a lobster tail than a prawn! The chicken was completely different to the tandoori chicken in the previous course, being much juicier (the heat of a tandoor will dry out even the best quality chicken breast) and having a distinct 'chicken' flavour as well as a layer of delicate spice.

This trio came the closest to disappointing though, as the lamb was so rare it was a struggle to cut with the regular table knife provided; there was a strip of raw tendon in mine - the pitfall of serving lamb rump so rare; and the pilaff the chicken was served on was made up of rice that was a bit overcooked or overstirred - the rice grains had broken up too much. With flavours as good as they were however, these mere textural issues failed to spoil the meal, the lamb was gorgeously crusted, and went amazingly with the rosemary chickpeas, and the the rice was flavoured with a delicious sauce of fresh tomatoes. B's John Dory was a real triumph of anglo-indian fusion food - it was essentially fish and chips, but done with a colonial twist - the gram flour in the batter gave a glorious flavour, as well as a superb crispness, and the goujons came on a bed of aromatic peas - both intact and mushed. All it needed was a few potato wedges and you would have had a fish supper.

As both B and I are on post-cookery course diets (everyone on the Leiths Diploma puts on weight, as do their partners if they bring home as much food as I did!), we were starting to struggle with fullness, so it was a relief that the first dish in the trio of desserts with a light sorbet - classic mango, a sweet chilling mouthful to carve space for the next two dishes. If I had still been hungry it might have been a disappointment - it was, after all, just mango sorbet - but in it's place it was well placed. The second dish was an allspice-infused dark chocolate brownie, which was dense and fudgy, heavy with cocoa solids and a complex mixture of spices including just the right amount of cloves (too much and those babies will just make you numb!). The brownie was a superb bitter counterpoint to the sweetened mango. The final dessert was so good it suddenly threatened the first course lobster for the title of best dish of the evening. It was described as a Lavender scented steamed yoghurt 'cake', but it was more like a dense mousse, topped with a bubble of lemon foam, and was by far the most dreamy and divine dessert I've ever had.

Coffee came with a little plate of petit fours - a sweet blackcurrant jelly, an icing-sugar coated biscuit of pistachio and cardamom, a tiny brazil-nut caramel, and a superb baby profiterole with a mango-infused cream centre. During my studies, we did a couple of days on petit fours, so I know that when offered free as part of a menu, in the restaurant trade they are seen as inexpensive ways of adding value to what even the chefs will acknowledge are overpriced menus. As I had already observed, the menu here was already extremely good value for money, so it was not a real surprise to me that these p.fours were not exactly the best - they didn't need to be, but they were perfectly fine nonetheless, and I was pleasantly surprised by the combination of exotic fruit with choux pastry and cream.

So, overall, run - don't walk - to Benares, if you have the slightest taste for Indian cuisine. The a la carte menu is probably not as good value as the outstanding grazing, but it is choc full of delicious meals. They have a superb sounding bar menu too - to go with their delicious cocktail menu.

Summer Picnic

Okay so it's barely even June but the amazing weather we've been having has put me in full summer mode, and my food revolves around BBQs and picnic-style cold nibbles at the moment. I did think I'd been a bit hasty ordering a picnic-hamper worth of deli items from organic veg-box gurus Abel & Cole, as it proceeded to pour with rain for two days, but the weekend is here and the sun is blazing again, so it was time to enjoy my goodies.

With the recession hitting hard, organic veg boxes have been amongst the victims - it's certainly one of the luxuries I cut out first. Companies who specialise in them are having to diversify and bring in new product lines to keep customers' interest (and are increasingly dropping the word 'organic' as a key marketing strategy - apparently people feel it's synonymous with 'overpriced' these days). My old veg box supplier was able to lure me back in with their new delicatessen line, and I just couldn't resist sharing some of the goodies with you.

Lunch today was a Melton Mowbray Pork Pie. Immediately I was struck by how short the ingredients list is - just pork, flour, gelatine, lard, salt, pepper and egg. My own recipe for homemade pie has no fewer than 15 ingredients, and I wondered if this meant the pie would be dull - I mean, who's heard of a pork pie with no herbs and spices? I decided to risk it as a) Melton Mowbray is a name of great repute in the Pie world and b) when the sun is shining, the last thing I want to be doing is slaving in the kitchen, boiling lard for a hot watercrust pastry!

The pie came beautiful misshapen, and generously portioned. It was neither as tender, nor as succulent, as homemade but was well flavoured and excellently seasoned - I didn't miss the herbs or spices at all. A little tip for these would be to serve them at room temperature rather than chilled - the flavour was infinitely improved by warming up a little. As convenience food goes (and why else do we buy deli items?) this was a vast improvement on the insipid and chemical-laden supermarket pies I've had in the past.

Lacking any hard cheese (pork pie with Cheddar or Stilton is a thing of beauty), I wolfed down my pie with some homemade runnerbean chutney (2007 vintage) and another one of my Abel & Cole treats - a gloriously rich and tangy Black Olive Homous, which was perfectly balanced, and surprisingly tart, delicious!

Hooray for summer!

Maintenance Warning

I'll be doing some tweaking on the blog tomorrow (Tuesday) which may well mean much of the content resembles gobbledygook for brief periods. For this I apologise, but an upgrade to the new version of Blogger was so long overdue it was practically fossilized, so I hope you'll all bear with me. And a tongue-in-cheek thankyou to the rather abrupt reader who sent me an email out of the blue and prompted me to do this. It's amazing how many people have managed to try my recipes without a 'printer friendly' version of the blog so far.......

In the meantime, here's a pretty picture for you to enjoy:

Love Food, Hate Waste

As I am once more a poor student again, saving money is something very dear to my heart. I take home everything I cook (most of my fellow students bin theirs, or give it to the charity collection if suitable). My fiancee and I have a Leiths-cooked dinner most nights of the week, rather than cooking something separate. I'm also still ploughing through Christmas leftovers (yes really - in February!), because my family compulsively over-order every single year. Someone really should tell my father that a cheeseboard doesn't need to have 20 cheeses on it, but I can't bring myself to say so because I have discovered most hard or medium-hard cheeses freeze really well, so I've been slowly working my way through them, and am only just down to the final chunk of Dolcelatte at last.

In the sprit of economy and some earth-hugging recycling chic, I'd like to draw your attention to LoveFoodHateWaste.com - a new online campaign to promote new food habits. Love Food Hate Waste is asking the nation to think positively about food and get into new habits following the theme of loving food and wasting less!

Planning ahead, making a shopping list, keeping an eye on portions, using the freezer more and getting creative with leftovers could not only help reduce the amount of food we throw away but save us money too.

I thoroughly applaud this site, and would encourage you all to visit it. Hopefully it'll make you have a little think about the way you treat food and meal planning. It's not all austerity and budget-control either - I find so many of my best new dishes come not from wandering the shops buying new produce, but by looking at the contents of my cupboards and fridge-freezer and working out what I can do with what I already have - see my post for last year's Leftover Tuesday (as pictured at the top of this post) for an example - mmmmm duck gyoza!

Leiths - a series (1)

Well my first week at Leiths is well and truly over, and my goodness what an eye-opening week it has been. The sheer pace at which we are expected to work is relentless, far more brutal than anything I've faced in a pro kitchen in the past, I just hope their teaching is actually sinking in whilst I'm running round like a mad march hare trying to get all stages of my recipes done in time, whilst fighting for space on hobs and ovens with half a dozen other eager and competitive students. It looks like there have been drop-outs already, and plenty of disgruntling from others who thought the pace was going to be much more leisurely. All the students who did the 'beginner' term last September return to the school on Monday, so the pressure and pace are expected to increase as our class sizes double, so it will be interesting to see how it works out. I can certainly expect that once I've got used to working at Leiths' top speed, any future work I do will seem like a walk in the park!

By the way, if you're reading this and wondering what on earth has happened in my life all of a sudden, the introductory article is here.

Getting used to the lecture-room atmosphere of the 'dems' - daily demonstrations of techniques and recipes we'll be doing ourselves later on - is a challenge too, my attention span is not what it once was! The dems are fascinating though, and watching a lot of the action via a giant room-width angled ceiling mirror is very interesting, as it allows us a birds-eye view of what's going on. It does give some odd perspective though, at a demonstration on stock-making on Tuesday there was a vat of flat-fish carcasses simmering away, and looking at them through the mirror the fleshy skeletons brought to mind the shots from Alien with face-huggers in laboratory jars!

On the subject of fish, it's widely known that I'm not a big fan, and in fact one of the many reasons I wanted to do this course was so I could be taught/cajoled/forced into learning to work with fish in a professional capacity, even if my tastebuds never conceed to it as a menu option in my private life. It's all very well for John Torode to insist to the Masterchef wannabees that they should never cook something they don't like to eat themselves (it's one of his key winges in fact, along with 'what makes you think soup is good enough for Masterchef?'), but for those of us in the real world, we sometimes have to do things which we wouldn't choose to do under normal circumstances. Fortunately we've started with sole, which is about as inoffensive and un-fishy a fish as one could hope to get, so I've had no problems there (apart from the gag reflex when I have to pick one of the blasted things up whole), but I'm not looking forward to getting to my pet hate of the piscine world - salmon. Perhaps I'll just throw in the seasonings and hope for the best.

It's no secret that Leiths teach classic cookery of the 'old school' (i.e. French), and although they work hard to bring a modern feel to lots of the recipes, and pay due care and attention to 'healthy eating', there is a hefty emphasis on the joys of butter, cream and salt. This seems to be causing some concern amongst some of the more self-conscious female students, and whilst I'm all for moderating one's fat intake and the like, I feel the fashionable healthy cause could be taken too far. Watching a dem on the classic sole meuniere - a dish which consists of pan-fried fillets of sole, served with a sauce of molten butter and lemon juice - one fashionista asked the chef if you could use something other than butter to fry the fish, in order to be more healthy. Predictably enough the answer was 'well you could, but there wouldn't be much point, given the sauce is almost entirely butter'. With a classic recipe, in which the second-largest ingredient is butter (and there are only 5 ingredients), there really is no point trying to make it more 'healthy'. Either eat it and accept the fats involved, or don't. Right? Or perhaps a sole drizzled in 10floz of olive oil would be better..........