Ladies who lunch

E is obsessed with Chef Heston Blumenthal and loves watching his food/science creations on TV.  As a 7 year old, her palate is pretty adventuresome - like what kid likes pickled herring and blue cheese? I figured a culinary treat was in order.  A quick google search indicated the The Fat Duck was going to be a little too rich for our blood at GBP 200 /pers.  Yes, that is pounds sterling!  You could go on holiday - to a foreign land-  for a meal there. 

Lo and behold, Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at the Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge does a set lunch menu!  Not his molecular gastronomy, but I'm sure it was going to be finger licking good. We were going to play hooky and go for lunch!  

We knew our day was off to a good start when we were rescued by a knight on a white horse, er, in a white car.  We were running late for the tube when our neighbour, Sir Jeremy, offered us a lift.  Since when does a veritable knight rescue damsels in distress?  Obviously an omen the day would bode well.

All went well at the medical appointment but we were both more excited about going for lunch.  E didn't know where I was taking her for her surprise lunch and was apprehensive.  She actually said, "what if where you're taking me is crappy and just some dumpy place?".  I assured her it wasn't. 

Double decker ride from Euston to Knightsbridge.  Isn't this a cool image? Or is it strange that I can now see the beauty in a rainy day?

Outside the Mandarin Oriental... wondering where we're going.  She was so excited when we arrived!  

I can hear Carly Simon... Anticipation....

We were licking our chops... The chef signed E's menu.
   

Such tasty bread, I asked for more... please

Lemon salad with goat curd - The lemon was a skim of a lemon jelly on the plate with the goat cheese and tiny smoked artichokes were the highlight.

That's my girl. She ordered the Pig's Ear Ragoo.  Isn't beautiful with a perfectly poached egg and micro balsamic onions? 

Waiting to dig in....  After the first couple of bites, E says, "oh, this does live up to its reputation!  This is so good".  What?  Whaddya know about reputations?  I think she even forgot Mike Wheatley's cooking for awhile, as in her esteem, he makes the best food.

What have I done?  I'm ruined.  Since when do you introduce a 7 year old to a Michelin 2 star?

Perfectly cooked ling with a nice crust. All the brown butter was delicious but with all the baby shrimp and capers, it was a little salty

E loved her roasted quail and ate every morsel.  She even asked if she could use her fingers to get every piece of meat.

Which do I use first, my spoon or my fork?

The steeple cream was a quiggly panacotta -like cone in a Campari blood orange syrup.

A skim of prune and tamarind on a perfect short crust with a creme brûlée topping that quivered.

I think we're going to need more insulin

How about fork AND spoon?

This is goooood.

.... to the last drop!

And a little mignardise of bergamot chocolate ganache in case we were still hungry.

 

The quest for the perfect cappuccino, who knew it would be in London?  Isn't there some irony there considering the last post?

Perfect ending...

E got invited for a kitchen tour.

She wanted to know how they make the meat fruit.  It takes 3 days to make this appetizer.  This is the first stage.

The pastry chef

 The woman who made my amazing coffee.

Who said mommy-daughter time had to be doing frilly things?  I think we both agreed that playing hooky and having a fantastic lunch was time well spent!  

Un bon café, c’est compliqué!

One of Europe's pleasures is getting a really good cup of coffee. With great expectations and drool on our chins, we anticipated great coffee in France.  Well, in the South of France, its more complicated.  Setting out to find that elusive cup of coffee got some interesting results. 

Ordering a cappuccino in the South of France usually gets a raised eyebrow, an explanation that this is not Italy and a resulting cup of weak coffee with whipped Chantilly cream.  But if you order a cafe creme, you get a cappuccino.  Follow?  You'd think when you order creme it would involve cream, maybe a little pitcher along side or a topping of whipped cream.  So how do you get a coffee with just a little foamy milk?  A macchiato? No, you order nuts - as in a noisette.  Compris?

Again, our favourite Dalle en Pente had the best cup of coffee on the ski hill

Figuring we had sorted out the lingo, we met up with our French friend Salomé in Aix-en-Provence.  Having a veritable interpreter, we were sure to get that Parisian quality coffee and the desire to smoke a Gitane and maybe tuck a baguette under our armpit. 

Two lovely demoiselles

Finishing off our lunch and eking out that last bit of holiday pleasure, we ordered coffee.  Wanting to make sure we got this last caffeine fix just right, we enlisted Salomé to help us out.  We primed the waiter and told him we wanted  café creme, nice and strong, tres fort.  "Un café serré?".  Oui, oui! This time, we're going to hit pay dirt.  

This is what we thought we were getting

This is what we got

Adrian's reaction to his coffee

A full cup of café serré.   Good to the last drop, because there were only about 5 in the cup.

Salomé  is now changing the subject of her Political Science dissertation and redirecting her efforts in researching the linguistics of ordering coffee in every AOC of France.  So much for just being  maudi anglais.

Flowers in February

This will either cheer you up with the promise of spring being right around the corner or quoting Sesame Street, it "makes me mad, very very angry", that you're still stuck in a snow bank.

Our back garden this winter

Despite the wettest winter in 250 years, the winter in Britain still has some colour to it with green moss lawns, red berries on shrubs and trees and the promise of spring in February!  YES!  Flowers in February.  I can't wait to see what April showers has in store for May flowers.  

Here is a sample of what is out now.

Beautiful flowering shrubs

Does it get more English than a thatched roof, gravel path and daffodils?

Primrose in our neighbour's garden