Asparagus in the raw

Raw Asparagus, pea-shoots and mint salad

Spare a thought for the asparagus farmer subject to the vagaries of our climate.  Yes, there has been indoor-grown asparagus for a few weeks now but outdoor grown - and, for me, nothing tastes as good - is struggling with our unseasonal weather.

Normally the asparagus farmer has six weeks of frantic activity harvesting the crop for market, then it's all over until next year.  Traditionally in the UK the season begins around St George's Day (23 April) and by mid-Summer's Day cutting should stop.  The plants continue to put up spears but these are allowed to grow into tall fronds which photosynthesise to build up nutrients for next year's crop.  In November the plant is cut back to ground level.  It takes about three years for an asparagus crown to become established and, if treated right, will will be productive for 10 years.  Quite an investment and hence the relatively high price of those bundles.  Asparagus likes well-drained, rich loamy soil - which rules it out for my heavy clay allotment patch.

Isle of Wight Asparagus

Asparagus needs warm, dry conditions in its final weeks, so it's no surprise that the outdoor-grown crop is late this year.  Last year it wasn't at market before the second week in May.  This year the delay to the season is even more severe.  By 19th May there was still little to be had in London, apart from a small amount from the Isle of Wight - always the first to arrive.  My favourite source is that grown by New Park Farm in Kent which is brought up to London for six weeks every years.  The care and attention they lavish on the crop is clear and I know of no other asparagus that tastes as good.

Freshness is key to taste so, when you do finally get your hands on it, don't let it linger in the fridge.  Those spears are packed with beneficial nutrients too - vitamins A and C, folic acid, potassium and iron.

So how to make a little go a long way and get the most out of its special flavour?  When I get my hands on a bunch of asparagus my first thought is usually how I'm going to cook it.  Until last week, that is, when it was served to me raw.  Sliced super-fine, mixed with a few pea-shoots and dressed with a lemony vinaigrette and a touch of mint, it was the perfect way to eke out a few spears.  I've unashamedly stolen this idea from chef Steve Williams of 40 Maltby Street, though it's my interpretation.  It's as close as I can get to his vibrant, seasonal dish.

Raw Asparagus, Mint & Pea-shoot salad
(Serves 4 as a starter)

8-12 asparagus spears
A handful of pea-shoots
8-10 mint leaves
1 tbsp lemon juice
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt & pepper

Snap the tough ends off the asparagus.  Cut a diagonal slice off the bottom of each asparagus spear then slice each spear as thinly as you can (see result in photo).  Add salt and pepper to the lemon juice and mix.  Whisk in the olive oil to emulsify.  Add the sliced asparagus and the pea shoots.  Serve.

First flush & a taste for tortilla

Tortilla

It's waiting time on the allotment.  Almost everything is planted - save for courgettes, squash and pumpkins - and tender stems are reaching for the light.  My two plantings of broad beans have germinated well and stand between  8 and 12 cm tall.  Looks like Chocolate Spot is going to scar the pods this year as some of the leaves already bear the distinctive marks.  Not a threat to the beans but not a pretty sight.  The peas we planted alongside are struggling, making my carefully constructed pea-stick arch look a little optimistic this year. I could plant again but late peas usually fall prey to pea-moth, no matter how I try to protect them.  I'll keep my fingers crossed that there are stragglers just waiting to emerge.  It's a time to take a breath, weed, weed and weed a bit more, and bide our time.

Spinach 'Dominant' & 'Bordeaux'

Still, we have spinach - vibrant green and reliable Dominant and beautiful, red-stemmed and veined Bordeaux which is much more prone to bolt.  Sown three weeks ago, it feels good to have a fresh crop to pick instead of searching for a few new leaves on the ragged, over-wintering, Rainbow chard.  

Most of the tender leaves went into the salad bowl and, next day, the remaining pickings were added to beaten egg, softened onions and fried potatoes for a tortilla.  I sometimes use chard or a few herbs (coriander is good) instead of spinach.  The Tortilla shown was served just-warm with a mix of salad leaves which, sadly, were not my own.  I doubt there is a prettier, fresher and more interesting mix of salad than that supplied by Chegworth Farm.  They are now my first stop whenever I can't glean what I need from my own plot of land.

Tortilla Slice

So, when is this egg dish a Tortilla and when is it a Frittata?  It seems the difference is in the finishing.  If you cook one side in a pan then slide it under the grill, you have a Frittata.  If you turn it out onto a plate and then return it to the pan to finish it, you have a Tortilla.  I prefer Tortilla and here's the way I make it.

Tortilla
(Serves 2-4)

1 medium onion, thinly sliced
4 medium waxy potatoes, peeled and sliced or diced
4-5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
A handful of spinach or chard leaves
4 eggs
salt and pepper

Gently soften the onion in 1 tbsp olive oil, then put to one side.  In the same pan, gently cook the potatoes in 2 tbsp olive oil until just softened.  Wash and blanch the spinach or chard leaves in boiling water for 1 minute then drain and refresh in cold water (if the leaves are very young you can skip this step).  Drain and chop the leaves roughly.  
Mix the eggs lightly, add the onions, potatoes, leaves and seasoning and mix together.  Heat a round sided 20cm frying pan with a little olive oil until medium hot before pouring the mixture in.  Cook over a medium heat for 3-4 minutes until it's firm enough to slide it out onto a plate larger than the pan (uncooked side up. Place the pan onto the plate and invert so that the uncooked side is now facing the bottom of the pan.  Cook for 2 minutes more before turning it out to serve.

Spring on Plot 45

Prunus Victor 2013

Just when we thought Spring would never arrive, we are suddenly overwhelmed with fruit blossom.  Here in London, ornamental cherry trees have flowered so spectacularly over the last couple of weeks that even the most city-hardened of us have been snapping away and indulging in competitive photo postings.  The blossom of the edible blossom is now tentatively unfurling along with that of plum, apple and pear.  On the allotment, our gooseberry and blackcurrant bushes have finished flowering and bear promising tiny green fruits.  From nearby hives, the honey bees, that last week covered the bushes in a frenzy of activity, have moved on to richer pollen pickings.  They play a vital role in pollinating our crops, making for greater yields, so it feels good that absolutely nobody uses chemicals here.

Gooseberry Invicta 2013

Apart from the currants and berries, which thankfully need little attention, you have to get up close to see signs of the last three weeks of hard work on the allotment  Trenches have been dug and both Charlotte and Pink Fir Apple potatoes are planted, carefully spaced to leave plenty of room for each to spread.  There they lie, buried so deep it always seems miraculous that the shoots can find their way to the surface.  Soon they will appear and before we know it we'll be earthing up the ridges to increase the yield.

The Summer raspberry canes are taking a buffeting in the strong winds today so I'm glad I got round to tying them in on my last visit.  The Autumn fruiting variety, Bliss, are sprouting lushly from ground level, reminding me I really should do some more weeding in that bed.

Garlic 2012

I survey the 8 metre long stretch of alliums and wonder if I got a bit carried away this year.  My over-wintering garlic and onion sets were practically wiped out by the cold and wet so I planted like crazy to compensate this Spring.  Garlic, shallots and Sturon onion sets all bear little green tufts.  As yet, who knows how the Long Red Florence seeds I planted are doing - a little temperamental but well worth the effort.

Chantenay Carrot 2012

Carrots and parsnips seeds are planted, though it's to be hoped we won't be digging up carrots quite as convoluted as this one from last year.  Clearly we did a very poor job of removing stones in the root vegetable bed.  Two sowings of broad beans and peas are growing away nicely.  I'm determined not to sow any more. Succession sowing is all well and good but, for taste, early is best for both of these crops.  Two types of spinach are growing well - red-stemmed Bordeaux and reliable Dominant.  Nothing beats those first few pickings.  Too much heat and the Bordeaux in particular will bolt as soon as I turn my back.  The first of the beetroot and the Rainbow chard are just beginning to germinate.

Borlotti Beans 2012

This year we've planted our climbing beans early.  String beans are probably the only vegetable which aren't popular in our household so they definitely don't earn their keep on this allotment.  Borlotti beans, on the other hand, are a favourite.  Pale green pods turn a thrilling speckled red before they're ready to be picked. Discarding their coats reveals pale green, pink or red/ivory speckled beans.  They need plenty of heat and this year I'm determined not to run out of summer before every last one is ready to harvest.

Courgette Flower 2012

Soon we'll be planting a seed bed with leeks, Kale and Purple Sprouting broccoli to overwinter.  That leaves the courgettes, pumpkins and squash.  We'll plant seeds straight into the ground in late May then go into battle with the slugs and snails.

So, the really hard work is done.  That is, if you exclude the watering and weeding right through summer and a couple of biodynamic stirrings and sprays. We now have the pleasurable part to look forward to - birdsong, sun on our backs and, weather and bugs permitting, lots of home-grown fruit and vegetables to harvest right through to next Spring.  If we're lucky we may see some hollyhocks too.   from seeds gathered by the Friends of Arnold Circus.   Happy gardening.

Paris in May and La Table des Anges

Pear tree at
La Jardin du Luxembourg

Diaries were clear and May had arrived so what better than a day trip to Paris.  A wander around the Left Bank, an hour soaking up the sun in the Jardin du Luxembourg and a good lunch is a pretty good way to recharge the batteries.  Arriving the day after the May Day holiday meant the streets were less busy than normal.  The amazing mix of apiary boxes in the Luxembourg Gardens were abuzz as the honey bees made the most of the fleeting apple and pear blossom.

But where to go for lunch?  Meeting up with a friend in Paris confirmed what has been talked about for  sometime now - in France you can no longer take it for granted that the ingredients going into restaurant kitchens are the best, or that there is much actual cooking going on at all.  Which is why it's important to treasure those who are doing it right.  A visit to Les Fines Gueules in the 1st was tempting.  Then again Le Cristal de Sel in the 15th is always a good bet, but maybe it was time to try somewhere new.

It has long been my experience that if you take up a recommendation from the knowledgable Nick Lander you can't go far wrong, and this one was hot off the press.  I've included a link to his review which, as usual, is spot on.  La Table des Anges is located on my favourite food shopping street in Paris.  Rue des Martyrs in the 9th arrondisement is bordered by the Gares du Nord, de l'Est and St-Lazare.  Snaking uphill  from Boulevard Haussmann, rue Lafitte becomes rue des Martyrs, and continues right up to the Basilique du Sacre Coeur in Montmartre.  The street is lined with with good fromageries, traiteurs, boulangeries, patisseries, restaurants and cafes, including Rose Bakery.  It's an easy 15 minute walk from Gare du Nord. Perfect for picking up a bit of shopping before hopping back on the Eurostar.

Brandade at
La Table des Anges

I'm so used to walking up rue des Martyrs and turning off on Avenue Trudaine to head for the Gare du Nord that we could easily have missed La Table des Anges. Head uphill towards Montmartre and look for a very understated restaurant frontage. The owner Jacques-Henri Strauss and his small team, including Chef Yan Duranceau are genuinely welcoming.  Duranceau left behind the far grander surroundings of Taillevent and Le Grand Vefour to cook at La Table des Anges. 

As soon as we sat down a small plate of charcuterie arrived to back up the smiles. We ate a frothy, creamy yet light Bisque de langoustine and an equally so Velouté d'asperges blanc.  A cast-iron pot of Joue de boeuf topped with a julienne of vegetables was flavoured with oriental spices.  The meat was meltingly tender and the rich broth demanded a spoon. A glass of Cahors went well, given that the wine was used in the dish.  A large portion of Brandade was perfectly balanced and topped with deliciously gritty polenta before being lightly grilled.  It was, without doubt, the star dish and a Sancerre Abbaye 2011 suited it well.  Two courses were filling enough - the owner assured us he did not like people to go away hungry - but we forced ourselves to share a dish of Fraise des Anges.  The glass of strawberry puree topped with a lurid green cream was, I have to say, a bit alarming.  The taste was nothing of the sort.  Sweet and fragrant fruit and, what turned out to be, a mint-infused cream was delicious as was a  little dish of, rather too cold, strawberry sorbet.  

We could have eaten two courses for 16 Euros each plus wine and been quite satisfied.  With one of us choosing from the à la carte and having shared a pudding, the bill came to 72 Euros including 4 glass of wine.  Go to La Table des Anges expecting a good, welcoming, neighbourhood restaurant, cooking carefully sourced ingredients really well and you won't be disappointed.

La Table des Anges
66 rue des Martyrs
75009 Paris

Métro Pigalle

Réservations: 01 55 32 24 89

reservation@latabledesanges.fr

Leeks baked in cream and stock

Leeks baked in cream and stock

Recently I posted on pairing Leeks with Gruyere which, for me is a great combination.  I suggested serving up a dish of leeks with a Sauce Mornay - suitably rib-sticking at a time when winter was dragging on. Soon after, unconnectedly, I read someone's remark that such a sauce was an "old lady's cheese sauce".  In my book it is a classic sauce, albeit one which I don't make often.

The purpose of this brief posting is to come good on my promise to make a slightly more Spring-like baked leek dish once the temperature rose a few degrees.  Leeks have been the vegetable of the winter, for me. Although quite stunted, thanks to the unusually long cold spell, they have proved to be particularly sweet and tender this year.  In this crossover period from Winter to Spring produce, they are still very welcome while we wait for outdoor-grown English asparagus, beans and peas.  If you've grown your own leeks don't leave them in the ground for too much longer as British overwintering leeks will soon bolt and develop the hard core which marks the end of their season.

This dish is so simple there is no need to give you a formal recipe.  It's adapted from Chez Panisse Vegetables by Alice Waters and it does have a sauce - not a classic but it should be.

Leeks baked in cream and stock

Pre-heat oven to 190C (170C fan oven).
Lightly trim the leeks, top and bottom and remove one outer layer.  Slice half way down from the top and wash thoroughly.  Drop the leeks into boiling salted water for 3-4 minutes, drain and lay them in a shallow, buttered oven-proof dish.  Cover with a mixture of 3 parts double cream to 1 part vegetable stock.  Season with salt and pepper and dot with a little unsalted butter.  Bake in the oven, uncovered, for 30-40 minutes.  

A hunk of crusty crusty bread is all this dish needs.

This is 'My Cup of Tea'

Lime Blossom
My Cup of Tea

I've always enjoyed a nice cup of tea.  My tastes were unsophisticated, mostly involving a tea bag, a mug and a splash of milk.  Sometimes a spoonful of black leaf tea, maybe with a little bergamot, brewed in a pot and taken as it came.  But those ubiquitous cloying 'flavoured' teas and stale tasting herbal infusions have always made me recoil.  I was going to take some persuading that teas and infusions don't have to be like that.   

Then, one day, I noticed a new trader at my weekly shopping haunt.   A trestle table appeared.  A small display of teas and herbs.  I walked on by, several times.  After all, it was just tea.  Over the following weeks the display grew and was so beautifully laid out.  Finally, I could no longer resist taking a look.  Little pots of Green and Black teas and finely rolled Sencha leaves sat alongside dishes of vibrant Lime Blossom and Camomile and hand-tied muslin teabags containing ginger and lemongrass.  A few exquisite little teapots and drinking bowls dressed the table.  So it was that I put myself in the hands of an expert to see if my prejudices could be overcome. 

Orange blossom
at My Cup of Tea

My Cup of Tea is a modern, artisan, tea specialist established in 2008.  The recipes are inspired by tradition and the rich and varied cultures of the world.  The attention to detail is clear, from the quality of the teas, herbs, blossoms and fruits which go into the blends through to the delicate china cups customers taste from.    

Ausra Burg and her team do more than just import teas. They make their own superior quality blends and herbal infusions.  Ingredients are sourced direct from growers who have to meet strict specifications to become My Cup of Tea suppliers.  They work with tea makers of many generations who have direct ties to Estates and share a commitment to quality.  

Rooibos, blackcurrant & blackcurrant leaf
at My Cup of Tea

Ausra picked wild herbs from the fields with her mother, who recorded every detail year by year in her 'Bible' of herbs.  This instilled in her a passion for their benefits.  That 'Bible' now plays a very important part in My Cup of Tea.  For me, this small business stands out from the crowd by sourcing herbs which are grown naturally, specifying when and what parts of the plants are harvested, how they are dried, separated and packaged.  Then there's the hand-cutting and expert blending when they reach My Cup of Tea's Workshop.  The quality of the ingredients on display there is impressive.  The display of covetable thick glass apothecary jars is not just for show but serves to keep the ingredients in optimum conditions.  

The blending process is extensive, starting with a base to which herbs and, sometimes, fruits are added.  In the herbal teas, sometimes several parts of the plant are able to be used, such as the leaf, fruit and stem, each imparting subtly different aromas and taste.  There are no artificial flavourings here, no unnaturally perfumed brews or muddy tasting infusions made from dessicated herbs.  Ausra told me "we refuse to compromise because we believe if we love what we make then our customers will love it too".

Inhale, then try a cup of black tea, subtly flavoured with cassis and vanilla; a delicate White Jasmine green tea, the uppermost tips having been dried scattered with Jasmine flowers; a fragrant, clean tasting Orange Blossom or Lime Blossom tea.  Based on past experience, I almost ignored an infusion containing fruits but by now I was prepared to try anything.  Raspberry leaf and fruit makes use of the leaf, immature fruits and stem, each imparting subtly different flavours, and it was astonishingly good.  Rosehip, apple, hibiscus flowers, natural strawberry and raspberry flavours go into the Wild Berry teabags.     

You don't have to take my word for it.  Go into the *My Cup of Tea Workshop on Saturdays and see and taste for yourself. Ausra and Emiko will even help you put together your own personal blend.  I came away with a bag of Green Rooibos with blackcurrant leaf and fruit.  Yes, me, the "teabag in a cup" tea maker.  Well, not any more .  A mug of black tea with a splash of milk will always go with a bacon sandwich, for me, but a visit to My Cup of Tea's Workshop has changed my tea drinking habits for ever.

My Cup of Tea
96 Druid Street
London  SE1 2HQ

* UPDATE AUGUST 2014 - The Saturday Workshop is no longer open as My Cup of Tea has now opened its flagship store in the Ham Yard Hotel courtyard in Soho open 7 days a week.

Leeks with Gruyere Cheese - Perfect Combinations

Leeks au Gratin

I know we're all waiting impatiently for the asparagus to arrive but clearly, given this long winter, it's going to be late this year.  There are a few English spears around and if you want something tasteless and expensive then you can have it.  Personally I'll bide my time and wait another 3-4 weeks.  In the meantime, I've been making the most of leeks. The French refer to leeks as "poor man's asparagus" (a term we use in the UK for the coastal Samphire), and value them at least as much as we do.  

A member of the allium family, leeks add a more subtle, less pungent note to dishes than onions or garlic.  They have an  affinity with butter, cheese, potatoes and bacon.  They also go with fish and are used in dishes such as bouillabaisse.  Sliced thinly and deep fried they make a lovely crispy foil for soft scallops.  I like them finely sliced with mussels instead of shallots in Moules Marinière.  Leeks can also carry off starring roles.  Their sweet, slippery softness is perfect in soups such as Vichyssoise; a dish of Leeks Gribiche makes a perfect, healthy lunch; match leeks with pastry and cream for a less virtuous but wholly delicious Flamiche.  

Growing slowly through the winter, leeks are smaller than normal this year but have been tasting fantastic over the past couple of weeks.  Soon after the warm weather eventually arrives they will start to develop a hard core and their time will be over.  Many recipes direct you to discard the green tops.  I urge you to use all but the tough topmost parts, unless it would spoil the recipe.  Green is good and you can always add it to soups or stocks.

Leeks au Gratin
straight from the oven

Today, with skies leaden and Spring a promise away, I offer you a simple dish of Leeks in a sauce Mornay (a simple Bechamel with added cheese).  The French would call it Leeks au Gratin and as we adopted their sauces Bechamel and Mornay, so shall I.  A buttered dish of leeks topped with a cheese sauce and baked until it's nicely browned and the smell of molten gruyere cheese drives you to distraction.  I could have topped the dish with breadcrumbs but personally I prefer to mop up the sauce with crusty bread.  If I want to make the dish more substantial I wrap the leeks in slices of cooked ham. 

This is a great bad-weather dish.  Next week, when we're on a promise of warmer weather, I will bake my leeks with stock and cream for a lighter dish.  Whilst the leeks are as good as this I really can wait for that asparagus.

Leeks au Gratin

(serves 4)

8 medium or 12 small leeks

50g unsalted butter + a little extra to butter the baking dish

50g plain flour

500ml milk

150g grated gruyere

Salt & pepper

Pinch or two of cayenne pepper

Preheat oven to 200C (Fan 180C).

Lightly trim the leeks, top and bottom and remove one outer layer.  Slice half way down from the top and wash thoroughly.  Drop the leeks into boiling salted water for 3-4 minutes, drain and lay them in a shallow, buttered oven-proof dish.

Melt the butter in a small heavy-based pan.  On a gentle heat, add the flour and stir for 3 minutes to cook off.  Pour in the milk all at once and whisk well.  Cook over a low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon until the sauce has thickened - about 7-8 minutes.  Take off the heat and add half the grated gruyere.  Taste and season with salt and pepper.  Pour the sauce over the leeks and scatter the remaining gruyere and the cayenne pepper on top.  Bake for 25-30 minutes until bubbling and lightly browned.

When I haven't been able to harvest from my allotment, I've been buying organic leeks in London from Kent grower Chegworth Valley Farm.  Although better known for their excellent fruit juices, their fruit and vegetables are very good quality and value.

40 Maltby Street, Bermondsey, London

Wild Mushroom Tart
at 40 Maltby Street

The dish pictured above wouldn't be out of place in a top restaurant. However, I ate it in an unpretentious wine bar resounding to the rumbling of trains overhead.  Menus are chalked on boards.  Paper napkins come from a dispenser. Perching stools line the bar and bare tables on a painted concrete floor.  The railway arch is given character by an original unframed Harry Darby artwork or two.  Hardly star-making surroundings.  Just a place where all the attention is on the food and wine - and there just happens to be a Michelin-starred chef in the kitchen.

Chef Steve Williams has a CV which includes The Square, The Ledbury, and The Anchor and Hope and earned his star at The Harwood Arms in 2011, making it the first Michelin starred pub in London. Leaving in 2012 to travel and cook, Williams spent a few months contentedly foraging and cooking at Harry Lester's Auberge du Chassignolle, deep in the Auvergne.  Happily for me, he's now back in London cooking at my favourite bar, 40 Maltby Street, making customers very happy.

It's almost 2 years since I first wrote about 40 Maltby Street.  Back then it was simply a Friday night dinner venue which served to showcase Gergovie Wines, albeit with a great chef, Dave Cook, in the small kitchen off the bar.  It's grown up a bit since then and, I have to say, has matured nicely.  Any place that has managed to attract people at least once a week - I promise you I'm not the only one - for 2 years is certainly deserving of a second review in my book.

Pollack at 40 Maltby Street

40 Maltby Street is co-owned by Raef Hodgson and Harry Lester.  Back at its birth, a run of trestle tables was set up to accommodate around 40 people. Dishes were served in en famille fashion and were based around, say, a whole lamb or two and whatever else was in season.  It was a good formula, albeit one where you had to be open to trying something you might not have been offered before - lamb's pluck is not for everyone!

Roast Pork at 40 Maltby Street

Things moved on and now you can eat at 40 Maltby Street Wednesday to Saturday (see below).  This has allowed them to have a far broader menu.  Dave Cook returned to his native Australia last Summer, making way for Steve Williams. He has gradually changed the menu to his own style and dishes are a broad mix to complement the wines. Working alongside him is Kit Hodgson who specialises in pastry and serves up unmissable pies and puddings.

Apart from being sure the food will be seasonal and impeccably sourced, you can never predict what dishes will be chalked on the blackboard.  Possibly a broth; maybe chicken with wild garlic; or lamb with barley and greens; sometimes a Venison or Mock Squab pie or an Onion tart with Lancashire cheese.  Often there's a roast and, maybe, a salt-baked fish.   There could be Egg mayonnaise,  Leek and mussel gratin, Brandade in crispy potato skins, Croquettes, Mushroom tart or Anchovies, kohlrabi and mint.  There are always British cheeses, terrines or a plate of charcuterie, and almost always a baked ham on the counter.  Last Saturday a simple-looking dish of broccoli, soft-boiled egg and hollandaise sauce with toasted almonds was made outstanding by the use of brown butter and sweet-sour Moscatel vinegar.  Pearly flakes of perfectly cooked pollock came with buttery, soft leeks dressed with bacon and chervil, the necessary crunch provided by roast potato.

Seasonal puddings could be Prune and Lemon or, maybe, Damson soufflé, Apple pie fritters, Eve's Pudding, Steamed Treacle sponge with custard, Frangipane tarts, Lemon Posset.  I could go on, but I'll spare you the torture.  I'm shocked to find I have no recent photos of the puddings.  Clearly I just couldn't wait to tuck in.  There's usually a number of meat and fish-free dishes.  Everything is made in the small open kitchen with skill, passion and generosity.

Menu at 40 Maltby Street

If you can resist the food, you can just pop in for a glass of wine.  40 Maltby Street is one of a small number of bars and restaurants in London who are introducing a new generation of natural winemakers from the South-East France/ Northern Italy/Slovenia/Spain wine-growing areas.  Employing ethical methods of growing, some organically or biodynamically, with little intervention in the development of the wine, produces interesting and surprising results.  The yield from these growers is small, hence the labels on offer at 40 Maltby Street are ever-changing as they find more good, artisan winemakers.  Some can be challenging but I can honestly say there has only been one glass I really didn't enjoy at all.  There are always a few bottles open for drinking by the glass and a wider range to enjoy by the bottle. You can also buy to take away.  My favourites have to be Tete de Bulle from the Auvergne, anything from Italian winemaker Davide Spillare, a glass of Rosso die Muni from the Veneto and Pacina Rosa from Tuscany.  Mark-ups are transparent and remarkably low.

40 Maltby Street draws a diverse crowd from off-duty chefs, through arts and media folk to local residents.  Housed in a railway arch beneath the London Bridge to Dover line, it is about a 10-minute walk east of London Bridge Station.  It's a wine bar with food so don't expect fancy service, though it is always professional.  What you will get is a warm welcome, great wines and food worthy of a Michelin star, all in simple surroundings.  It makes me very happy every week.

40 Maltby Street
London SE1 3PA
Open: Wednesday and Thursday 5.30-10pm
Friday  12.30-2pm and 5.30-10pm
Saturday 11am-5pm
(No resercvations)

The Monocle Cafe, London - Food Find

Although it officially launches on 15 April, The Monocle Cafe in Marylebone opened its doors today. This is the second Cafe from Monocle, the first one opened in Tokyo 18 months ago.  Small but perfectly formed, the design and execution is just what you'd expect from Monocle.  Beautiful use of wood, great lighting and a cosy lounge at the back.  There's Monocle 24 TV playing and copies of Monocle magazine to browse.  Decor  is completed by original artwork from Virge Brûlé.  A downstairs room, set up for use as either extra cafe seating or a room for hire, is furnished with vintage Ercol.  Come summer, the few tables outside will be favourites on this street with its eclectic mix of independent shops.  Pastries and buns are being supplied by Swedish bakery Fabrique.  Allpress coffee  was expertly made and cakes by the impressive Masayuki Hara of Lanka were delicious and, of course, service was attentive. 

The Monocle Cafe
18 Chiltern Street
London  W1U 7QA

Onion Tart with Lancashire Cheese - Perfect combinations

Slice of Onion Tart with Lancashire Cheese

I was saving this recipe for the the day I managed to plant this year's onion sets but, with the unrelenting cold we've been experiencing, I've decided this undeniably rich tart is exactly right for now.  I like to tell  myself a helping of watercress off-sets the richness!

Last year's store of onions have long gone and the onion sets I planted to overwinter are nowhere to be seen.  Some November-planted garlic clings on tenaciously but the leeks, which usually grow so well, are stunted.  A mixture of clay soil, copious rain and prolonged, numbing, cold has taken its toll.  My bio-dynamic planting calendar tells me it will be mid-April before I can start my Spring planting - assuming winter releases its icy grip.

Onion Tart with Lancashire Cheese

So, while I wait impatiently to get planting, I'm grateful to Simon Hopkinson for reminding me what a joyous combination cheese and onion make.  This recipe is adapted from his Onion Tart in Roast Chicken and Other Stories in which he mentions his mother's love of mixing a little Lancashire cheese into the filling. It's certainly a winning combination, though I prefer to scatter the Lancashire on the top just before baking.  A version of this tart is sometimes on the menu at 40 Maltby Street where an oat pastry is used.  Though more difficult to work with, it works as a great counter-balance to the richness of the filling.  Making this dish does leave you with a lot of egg whites, but that just gives you the excuse for a batch of meringues or macarons.

Onion Tart with Lancashire Cheese 
(Serves 4-6)

Shortcrust pastry:
100g (4oz) plain flour
50g (2oz) cold butter, diced
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon cold water
Pinch of salt

Filling:
75g (3oz) butter
4 medium-large onions, thinly sliced
4 egg yolks
300ml (1/2 pint) double cream
Salt & pepper
75g (3oz) Lancashire cheese

Lightly butter a 20cm (8 inch), 3cm deep loose-bottomed tart tin and chill.  To make the pastry, sift flour, add salt and rub in the butter.  Add egg yolk and water and stir with a knife until the mixture comes together.  Use your hands to form it into a smooth ball, working the pastry as little as possible.  Wrap and chill for 30 minutes.

Melt the butter for the filling in a frying- or sauce-pan with a lid.  Add the onions and a little salt and pepper, stirring to coat the onions in the butter.  Cover with the lid and cook very gently, without browning, until the onions are soft (about 40 minutes).  The mixture will be very wet.  Remove the lid and cook down on a low heat for a further 15-20 minutes until the moisture has mostly disappeared.  Transfer to a bowl and leave to cool.

Pre-heat the oven to 200C (fan oven 180C).  Roll out the pastry as thinly as possible and line the prepared tart tin with it.  Prick the base of the pastry and chill for 15 minutes.  Line with greaseproof paper and fill with baking beans to bake blind in the oven for 10 minutes.  Remove the paper and beans and return the tart to the oven for a further 5 minutes or so to cook the base thoroughly.  Remove from the oven and turn down to 180C (fan oven 160C).  

Lightly beat the egg yolks with the cream.  Mix in the onions and season with salt and pepper.  Place the tart tin on a baking tray and pour the mixture into the tart case as high as you dare before crumbling the cheese on top.  Bake for around 35 minutes until the filling is set and lightly browned.

Peppery watercress goes very well with this tart.