buttered crumpet is going to have a little break, or rather, I am. I don’t know if I’ll be back again. The liklihood is: probably not.
I have a few other ventures in mind and don’t really want to carry on with buttered crumpet in a half-arsed fashion.
It was my voyage in to the blogosphere and it was a good one… thank you to my loyal readers and stuble uponerers for now, I bid you farewell and wish you a very happy New Year. I’ll miss you.
Natalie x
Ever wanted to keep a note of your favourite food, or drink? Ever longed for a handy notebook in which you could record your wise and wistful rambling tasting notes of the thing you love most? Well, the handy little 33 book series will enable you to do just that.
33 books, is a clever little concept thought up by Dave Seldon, who’s co-founder of BS Brewing, a homebrewing and extreme food collective based in the home of all things hip.
The books are tiny (pocket-size) journals bound in recycled card with 33 crisp white pages designed with checkboxes and flavour wheels, ready for your tasting notes to be inputted.
Courtesy of Incognito, the fabulous boutique gift and analogue photography shop in Manchester’s Northern Quarter, I will be giving away a collection of 33 Journals to buttered crumpet readers.
Here at buttered crumpet, I’ll be giving way copies of the 33 cups of coffee journal & the 33 pieces of cheese journal. The others will be given away over at the Champagne Piggy blog.
To win? All you have to do is tweet about this post and leave a comment below telling me what it is you love about cheese, or coffee, and you’ll be entered in to the prize draw – to be drawn a week today.
To buy a copy of any of the 33 series, or to have a nosey at strokable, eye-pleasing things, visit: Incognito, 5 Stevenson Square, Manchester, M1 1DN / 0161 228 7999
Posted in Foodie, Uncategorized
Tagged 33 books, Cheese, coffee, competition, incognito-uk
“Food is the Scandinavian antidote to darkness. I hope the dishes in here will become yours.”
Once winter takes hold my animalistic tendencies take over. Through the winter months, like a bear, I stay in my den and I hibernate. Whilst the bear sleeps and gives birth during the winter months, I eat. And I eat. I eat rich, fatty foods, high in protein and with a generous serving of a carbohydrate that keeps me warm and stops me from slowing down completely. Like the Scandinavians, I depend on food to keep me sane and smiling, when the dark nights creep in.
When Roast Figs, Sugar Snow arrived, it was just in time to see me through. Originally published in 2005, and again in November 2011, Diana Henry’s recipe book this time around has a more attractive front cover and is arriving in shops at just the right time to make lots of Christmas goodies – look out Christmas cupboard, here I come.
The colour scheme lends to the book an earthy and at times an almost ethereal feel reflecting in it the nature of autumn and winter – sleepy, indulgent and warming. Whilst Jason Lowe’s photography picks out the rich colours of the seasonal ingredients of hazelnut, pumpkin and red cabbage, an off white page with a simple recipe for Vermont Baked Beans, is enough to conjure the rich orange, reds and browns of autumn without a speck of colour having ever been printed on the page. The recipes in themselves are colourful and the ingredients, through seasonality and colour, continually evoke a sense of autumn and winter without ever being bland.
Diana Henry’s recipes are indeed ‘Food to warm the soul’. They are everything we crave during the cold months and yet not all of the recipes are familiar. Yes there is pie, hash, soup and stew – the recipes you’d expect to find in an autumn/winter inspired recipe book, but then there’s more. Henry has included recipes from her travels to colder climates, the likes of Canada, Russia, Hungary and Scandinavia and this provides a sense of discovery of the familiar. There’s a certain familiarity to the feel of the dishes from these colder countries – the way they’re put together is warming, smile inducing and comforting and yet the ingredients offer something more, something a bit different to my staple winter food.
Sometimes the recipes are a gentle reminder of ingredients that work well together, the introduction of spices to an otherwise familiar recipe is welcome and warming. Hungarian potatoes, is a good, winter twist on ordinary roast potatoes:
Hungarian Potatoes with paprika and caraway
Serves 4: 400g small waxy potatoes 2 onions, peeled 2 tsp caraway seeds, roughly crushed 1 tsp each hot paprika and sweet paprika Salt and pepper 2 tbsp olive oil or rendered pork fat
With the Hungarian potatoes, I made another of Henry’s recipes from the book: Roast Pork with black pudding, apple and mustard sauce. I wasn’t crazy about the mustard sauce, I’ll leave it off and make a gravy next time, but the shoulder of pork was everything a girl needs on a bitterly cold Sunday: a layer of crackling fat with melting pork made better with the peppery black pudding and tart apple. Henry suggests serving it with red cabbage – another of my favourites.
Maple-Glazed Poussins with cornbread and pancetta stuffing, is again a reassuringly simple recipe to follow, and it worked to quell my craving for sweet things. Of course the pancetta works wonders with the maple syrup, a firm favourite of Henry’s - maple syrup even giving her part of the title ‘sugar snow’, and provides everything you could wish for in a dish: it’s sweet, salty and fatty. Then there’s also a fiery kick to the glaze with the addition of tobacco sauce that is warming and the meat of the Poussin is tender and juicy, as you’d expect.
The book is set out in 14 sections, an introduction and an index and then chapters by food groups. The chapter titles are intriguing and many have a literary feel to them: tales from the hunt, of wood and smoke and the colour purple. This is not surprising since Henry was inspired by Wilder’s Little House Books and throughout the book is peppered with snippets from writers, such as Robert Frost, Jerome K Jerome, Edward Thomas and D.H. Lawrence.
Henry’s recipes are easy to follow and the ingredients are all easy to find in my local supermarket. Cooking from her book fills the house with wafts of warming and sweet spices – so that it even smells of winter, almost making me wish that summer stays away next year.
Whether in the kitchen, or by the fire keeping warm I foresee myself spending the next few Sundays, at least, in the company of Diana Henry’s Roast Figs Sugar Snow.
Roast Figs, Sugar Snow by Diana Henry Imprint: Mitchell BeazleyPosted in Book Review
Tagged Diana Henry, Maple Syrup, Pork Shoulder, Poussin, Roast Figs Sugar Snow
Having stroked the silky yellow cover of Christine Manfield’s latest book, Tasting India, for several minutes, I finally open it and begin poring over the huge pages filled with photographer Anson Smart’s beautiful photography. I flick without reading and find myself 44 pages in and I’m beginning to wonder if the publishing house has mistaken me for a critic of travel writing, for I have yet to find a single recipe, or indeed a picture, that would suggest this book is a recipe book over a travel guide.
I know Manfield as Australian chef, restaurant owner and writer of several recipe books and so I’m perplexed at the feel of the book thus far. I check the press release. No, it definitely says 250 recipes. I continue flicking and then I find them – recipe upon recipe, recipes that just keep coming, teamed with mouth-watering half-page pictures and snippets of information telling the reader who has inspired and provided these recipes to our writer.
…this book is one story of India, my story of India, gathered across many visits. My insights are informed by connections I’ve been fortunate enough to make with many different people. The recipes I’ve collected along the way reflect the stories of countless mothers, daughters, sons of daughters, brothers sister and aunts, told to me during my travels. So, more importantly within these pages are their stories.
Although Manfield is keen to tell the story of the people who have inspired the recipes in the book, it is, as she says, an account of the people of India and how food in India is shaped by its people, their traditions and religion – as well as season and region, Tasting India is as much a traveller’s tour-guide, as it is a recipe book. From North to South, Manfield shares with the reader her vast knowledge of India’s history, its culture and her discovery and love of the country’s gastronomic delights.
India is indeed a food lover’s delight.
The book is beautifully presented and is as functional as much as it is a delight to read. In each section there is an insight to the city, before Manfield gets to grips with the food, that is perpetuated and reflected in the photography. There is an analysis of ‘eating’ in each city – street vendors, the restaurant scene and home-cooking, followed by the recipes, and there is a recipe for what seems like everything: from breads to curries, kebabs, cheese, fritters, roasted meats, lentils, dumplings and pastries. The methods are easy to follow and make Indian cooking seem the joy Manfield so clearly hopes the reader will find it to be.
I can’t wait to get started and yet I am sore that the book was not available three years ago when I travelled down through India, visiting many of the places Manfield’s chapters are based on, for it provides a comprehensive travel guide – especially for a foodie – with intriguing, insightful descriptions of each city as well as a directory for accommodation, restaurants and shopping at the end of the book.
Whilst Anson Smart’s photography captures the essence of India for the eyes: the sublime colour of food and textiles against the backdrop of dishevelled streets and inspiring architecture, Manfield’s descriptions and recipes evoke an equally rich India for the palate.
Tasting India by Christine Manfield, published by Conran Octopus OUT NOW £40.00Images: biscuit face
As promised – suckling pig at the Northern Quarter Restaurant
As with all restaurants that I like a lot, I tend to hold back on writing up the review. If service and food are appalling it’s easy to spot, but when a restaurant feels perfect, it makes me wary. So, what do I do to stave off this suspicion? Well, I go again. And again. And possibly one more time before I finally review it.
I’m not sure if it’s just a tactic I’ve devised as a pig to ensure my belly is always full of good food, or if I really am that cautious. Either way, by the third or fourth visit, I can’t put the review off any longer, so here it is:
Situated on the dark side of the road, opposite the old fish market, The Northern Quarter Restaurant can be easily looked over. Like all good NQ establishments the signage is difficult to see (without straining your neck) and once inside you wonder how you walked past so many times without noticing it – the huge glass windows, striking light fittings and semi-open kitchen are all showy, but in a demure manner, kind of like the model who doesn’t wear any make-up and always dresses down.
Despite describe itself as ‘funky’, NQR is actually quite sophisticated, simple and stylish. It made Taste of Manchester’s Top 50 restaurants and was winner of the Opentable Diners’ Choice Award in 2010 and on finding this independent restaurant in my favourite part of the city, I went home a little bit in love.
Funky but not frightening, The Northern Quarter is the place to come for classics done well.
At lunch there is a steady flurry of diners (and drinkers): young professionals, old professionals and a surprising throng of mothers and sons. The huge windows mean it’s bright, but if you want to sit outside you have to cross the road before you’ll find any sunshine to bask in. The restaurant tends to become barren at around two, where the only waiting being done is for the evening push.
Come at the weekend though and from early-evening the place is packed-out. Several hungry passers-by wander in and are turned away and I can’t help feeling smug as they peer in at us as filling our faces as they walk away. Those of us inside know we’re on to a good thing. Tables are pushed close, but not so close that you find yourself ear-wigging in to the next diner’s conversation. There’s enough room for around sixty covers, so there’s a feeling of intimacy while the high ceilings stop it being cramped.
Having had the compulsion to keep revisiting this restaurant, I’ve had the pleasure of sampling dishes from the lunch and A la carte menus: The lunch menu is excellent value (£9.95 for 2 courses, or £13.95 for three) and portions are more like dinner-size portions – not a bad thing, of course. You can also order from the A La Carte at lunch. For mains, the Caesar Salad is a good choice and is served with whole anchovies and warm chicken goujons. Choice is somewhat marred however, with several dishes not being available, which we are told before ordering on one occasion and after on another occasion.
Dishes on the menu are dependent on seasonality and the ingredients are ‘of the best produce the North-West and the British Isles can offer.’ From the A la carte menu, the Ham Hock terrine is an excellent starter and is served with a sweet and slightly warming apricot chilli chutney. The mussels are also an excellent starter choice, where the beer and pancetta add depth to the dish without overbearing the delicate flavour of the mussel. For mains the highly anticipated suckling pig (£18.95) is slightly dry and disheartening when served alongside the roast rump and braised shoulder of lamb (£18.95) that smells divine as it approaches the table, looks divine as it is placed down on the table and tastes divine the minute it is stolen from my fellow diner’s plate. The lamb is tender and juicy and the jus is rich and packed with the sweet flavour of the lamb.
Desserts are one price (£5.50 – a selection of cheese is £6.50) chosen from the dessert board and tend to be unchanging – other than the flavour of the cheesecake, which was banoffee (a blend of banana and toffee, our waiter, somewhat naïvely, informs us – banoffee, as a flavour, has been around since the seventies, hasn’t it?) Desserts are not the restaurant’s highlight. The crème brulee is an odd texture: far creamier than expected, the sticky toffee pudding tastes shop-bought and the Grand Marnier mousse is less boozy – more Terry’s chocolate orange, unfortunately.
Wine is reasonably priced and is sold by the glass, or bottle. The drinks menu isn’t fussy, but neither are the waiters, and when I ask for a champagne cocktail I’m made one.
The service is friendly and professional, if at times slow. Whilst the lunch service is a little slack, the evening service is sharp, waiters are attentive with seating, food and drink and are informative about the food and drinks served.
Having returned to the Northern Quarter Restaurant three times in two months, I’m obviously a fan, and with its seasonal changing menu, offers and consistently good food, it’s a restaurant I will continue to get excited about returning to again and again.
4/5
Northern Quarter Restaurant 108 High Street, Manchester, M4 1HQImages: NQR website and Local Data Company
Coming soon: Cadbury, a love-hate relationship.
Hello readers. I haven’t posted properly in a while. Yes, I know since August is slightly more than a while, but there are a few reasons (honest).
Firstly, if you ask any teacher which term is the most hectic, they’ll tell you it’s the first term back. Unless of course you were to ask them either at Christmas, Easter, or summer, in which case the aforementioned corresponding term-time would be the answer. I’ve also made a huge change to my working week, as I now have Tuesdays off to write. Ah-ha! I hear you shout, then why have you not blogged? Well, I’ve been writing something else, other than my blog. I don’t want to divulge too much here, for fear of boring you all to tears, but it’s consuming and before I know it Tuesday is over and I’ve hardly written a thing and then it’s back to school. My other reason, and it’s a pathetic, piddly, demi-reason, is that I’m still trying-to-do-my-house-up, which means weekends are gobbled down with painting, sanding, glossing and trudging (mainly around B&Q and IKEA, much to my dismay) around house-type shops searching for things we missed off the list last week.
I have however found the time to eat out and bake. Whoops! Probably shouldn’t have let that one slip, but it’s true. There’s been a carrot cake, lemon tart, drop cookies, Cadbury’s world, and a suckling pig and I haven’t shared a single bit of it with you.
No, I’m not proud. But I am renewed – slightly. I promise to get back to blogging soon. Besides, half-term is coming up, so really I have no excuse!
A slight aside, I’m no longer tweeting using @manccrumpet, I’m now doing everything from @biscuitface_ (@biscuitface was already taken! Pff.)
Image: Cadbury Factory by biscuit face, 2011
WATCH THIS SPACE…
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged critic, essayist, food review, freelance writing, writer
At 5.30pm on a school-night The Lime Tree, nestled on leafy Lapwing Lane, isn’t exactly bursting at the seams, but this doesn’t mean their service slips. You’re treated as though the restaurant is busy, and they use their noggin here and fill up the smaller, conservatory area first so that it never quite has that ‘oh god… empty restaurant… everyone’s staring at us’ feel to it.
Located in West Didsbury, The Lime Tree has plenty of contenders; on my trip to the ladies, I see they’re holding their own with a whole wall of accolades, mostly from the Good Food Guide. The quality of the food here is excellent and it is both locally sourced (in fact they own their own smallholding!) and seasonal. So they’re already up a notch, compared with other Didsbury restaurants I’ve been to, on my estimations.
The set menu is on par with other restaurants in Didsbury in both scope and price. A good platform for comparison, if anything. Three courses without wine will cost you £15.95. For starters I opted for the Country style pork terrine, which was better than Rhubarb Restaurant‘s grey mush which they were passing off as parfait. The terrine is succulent and meaty and the accompanying Cumberland sauce is tangy and sweet. For mains I had a pork casserole which was sublime. The pork was tender and the sauce undeniably rich and creamy. I am suddenly induced with The Lime Tree’s background in french cuisine – it started out as a french restaurant – and I know that this is a restaurant I’ll keep coming back to. I should have ordered a side with the pork, but that was a downfall on my part. Another of my downfalls is the fact that I’m driving and thus can’t drink any alcohol. A sharp, acidic white wine would have made the dish complete, nay, perfect! The wine list is fairly extensive and is awash with vintage choices. There is also a weekly wine list, updated to cohere with the changing weekly menu. Yet another tick for The Lime Tree.
Following the rich intensity of my main, I’m craving a citrus based pudding, but there’s little to placate my palate. My companion though orders the Triple chocolate mousse torte and on trying it it is not a bad choice at all and is accompanied by very good Vanilla anglaise.
The service at The Lime Tree is professional, but not overly so. One waitress is a little bit shouty, we weren’t the only diners to notice, but the staff at The Lime Tree are attentive and generally speaking softly spoken and welcomming. The restaurant livens up too as it approaches 7pm and is infact delightfully busy for a weekday. I feel like I’ve cheated and won somehow, only paying for a weekday menu when the ambience is that of a bustling weekend service. I can assure you, it won’t be long before I’m back at The Lime Tree.
4/5
The Lime Tree 8 Lapwing Lane West Didsbury Manchester M20 2WS 0871 811 4873Image: lapwinglane.com
Rhubarb Restaurant established in 2003 by husband and wife Mark and Lisa Ramsden, claims to have a ‘Seasonal British Menu’. Where then, may I ask, is the rhubarb, Rhubarb Restaurant? It’s in season. It’s British. Heck, it’s even topical! The answer comes as thus: it rears its ruby head in one or two of the desserts, but that’s it.
The Fat Loaf. If anything, The Fat Loaf has a corker of a name, doesn’t it? Fat. Denoting good, hearty food. Loaf. Wholesome and homely. What’s in a name? Well it’s the thing that gets the juices culminating in the mouth… something other restaurants sometimes forget.
The Fat Loaf. I said it over in my head, let it slide over my tongue, like a slither of butter licked from a crust. I liked it already. Continue reading
Posted in Foodie, Restaurant reviews, Reviews
Tagged Didsbury, Didsbury Green, Manchester, The Fat Loaf
