Honey and
Ricotta
food, life, ramblings
Showing posts with label Hackney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hackney. Show all posts

Wednesday, 20 November 2013

Mayfields Wilton Way

Friday night. 7pm. Mayfields. 52 Wilton Way.

Where has November run away to?

With the sudden realisation that I could count out the number of November evenings left, I turned to B and announced that on Friday we would be going to Mayfields. I couldn't finish the month without my November to-do list being complete. Slight neurosis on my part.

Friday night saw a very long, very slow bus journey all the way from the 'office' in Covent Garden. Finally, almost an hour later, we reached Hackney. I am obsessed with this area of London and dream of living there some day soon. But this bus journey did manage to make me slightly more content with my current home in Bethnal Green.

We stepped inside this simply understated tiny white box decorated only with a jagged wooden wall dotted with lights. The week was sighed away with a quince gin fizz and a seat at a teeny tiny table. So many people have commented upon the size of their seats, complained about being squashed and uncomfortable. Honestly, it's not worth whining about. These small seats is what means the restaurant can exist as a business, can make enough money and turn enough tables. What's more, they also enable the relaxed, busy atmosphere that comes with that number of people in that sized space. London rent prices as they are, you're just going to have to get over not having a whole banquette to yourself.

Quince gin fizz; gin and tonic

After the wonderful new use of quince (to be made at home) in the gin fizz, and B's G&T, we scoured the menu. A simple list of ingredients made up the description of each dish. No hint at how anything was cooked, how it would be served. The only size indicator was the slight change in prices among the plates. They recommended 4 or 5 plates between two. Reluctantly we obeyed, leaving the other half of the menu to our imagination.

Quince gin fizz; bread

Potato, Rocket, Chestnut & Ginger merged typically British seasonal produce with an added buzz thanks to the exotic, warming ginger (another of B's favourite ingredients).

Potato, rocket, chestnut & ginger

Ricotta, Anchovy & Buckwheat was slightly too salty and dry - too much fish to ricotta ratio. And yes, we are slightly spoiled with ricotta expectations after our trip to Sicily in September. Herring, Horseradish, Salsify & Watercress redeemed everything and we were back on track. Vivid dabs of greens, delicate, metallic diamonds of herring, and a Bridget Riley-esque plating.


Turbot, Carrot, Pumpkin, Walnut & Ricotta was Instagram perfect and reminiscent of The Young Turks food in its ability to be delicious and beautiful. So often restaurants (rather like Frances of GBBO fame), place style over substance. As we all learned from Paul Hollywood's incessant repetitions, this is not what the customer wants. It is a marvellous, giggle-inducing surprise when such a pretty plate is so full of fascinating flavours.


And last but not least was Cod, Lardo, Leek, Mushroom & Jerusalem Artichoke. The muddy, dark flavours of the artichoke and wild mushrooms was balanced beautifully by the sweet onions, salty lardo and fresh cod.


The much shorter journey home saw me house-spotting again. The bus journey had been forgotten and I would happily add an extra half hour on to my commute if Mayfields could become my 'local'.

Highlight: beautiful presentation which matched the flavours
Lowlight: Ricotta, Anchovy & Buckwheat

Tuesday, 12 November 2013

Mont d'Or & Champagne

In need of motivation to get out of bed on Saturday morning, B and I ran to Broadway Market, knowing that at the other end of this short stint of exercise would be delicious Climpson & Sons coffee and as many foodie treats as we could wish for. The rain started as soon as we arrived, and in our lycra and t-shirts we were not as aptly dressed as the rest of the trendy Hackney crowd. We nose-dived into the queue at Climpson, made friends with lots of long, blonde, curly haired toddlers, and wrapped our hands around the warm, deep coffee. Much more willing to now go out and face the rain.

We didn't hang around for long, but did manage to pick up a Mont d'Or from the almost stereotypically French French men's cheese stand before we headed home. Standing shivering, water pouring off their very temporary roof, the cheese's lives taking priority over theirs, he complimented us on our choice, perfect for a day like this. We agreed. Feeling slightly guilty that he'd spend the rest of Saturday standing here in the cold, huddling with the fromage for warmth, while we would be showered, warm, clean, and tucking into a cream, nutty, rich, delicious, gooey, flavourful Mont d'Or, we made a beeline for home.



Skipping over puddles and dodging splashing cars, hoods up and heads down, we walked home the quick way, knowing the outing would be worth it. Within an hour of walking away from Hackney, we had followed the amazing David Lebovitz's recommendation and doused the Mont d'Or with garlic and white wine, wrapped it up in foil, like a baby in a blanket, and placed it in a toasty oven. 



When sufficiently goopy (thanks David for letting me steal your vocabulary), flowing like lava when a crusty piece of bread was dunked into it, we deemed it time to eat. The champagne bottle was popped open (note - this is not normal Saturday afternoon behaviour), and a perfect Saturday lunch was slowly demolished, as we watched the rain fall, pretending we were in large French château, not an East London flat framed in by scaffolding.
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