My darling friend Livia saw that I was in dire straits at Piazza Trilussa. As it happened, I arrived at the lovely pizza pained by hunger and strife. Livia suggested I should walk a few minutes down the Tevere river and find Supplí. Now, I am not often excited by breaded rice and cheese, but Livia insisted this was the restaurant for me.
So off I went, not expecting too much. But boy was I wrong. Supplí conformed to my usual restaurant criteria. This is a tiny restaurant with no seats. Located in picturesque Trastevere, this little hidden eatery took me by surprise.
Looking left after entering will reveal a fine selection of fritti. The tin plate in the back with the fewest delicacies is the one you should be looking at. It contains the legendary supplí of its namesake. Below is a photograph of the earthly delights up close and relatively personal:
As you can see, there is no end to the delightful succulence of rice, tomato sauce and mozzarella. Apologies for sensationalising this desription, there really isn’t much one can say about a supplí. However, what followed can be elaborated upon.
Equally legendary was Supplí’s pizza selection, to the right of the entrance. Try the marinara and the cotto. They use something extraordinary on the marinara, the taste lingers and stays with you for many minutes after you have left.
Given the shocking amount of awards Supplí has won, one can imagine the quality of their foodstuffs. Note especially acclaim from Le Routard, a guide I have used on all too many of my trips aborad to find stunning suggestible gems everywhere I go.
It amazes me that I’ve not yet written about the delightful gem that is the Old Mill. My own local pub is not exactly suggestible so I shopped around for something more suitable.
Lo and behold, not ten minutes’ drive from my humble Canley abode lay the most superb riverside pub. Entering from the car park, one would not immediately assume that this pub is as splendid a jewel as it is. But once you pass through the doors prepare to be mesmerised. Dated wooden beams stretch out as far the eye can see. Seating on three levels of exquisitely kept original oak floors. And to top it all off, a magnificent beer garden.
The view from it is pictured below:
On my latest visit, when these illustrious photographs were taken; the full extent of the view was obscured by two Frenchmen. Now if you don’t know already, prepare yourselves for a wicked bombshell: I am not English. No let me perfectly clear; I was born in France to British and Italian parents. I since moved to England and gained the Holy British Citizenship. But some modicum of patriotism remained and I could not bear to disrupt my countrymen.
As you can see, even inadvertently, I have protected my fellow Frenchmen’s identities. Their English compatriots, however, did not fare so well.
Moving on, the Old Mill is a former watermill dating back to the 1600’s. It’s located on the river Sowe, which is tranquil at this point. While conversing about utterly compelling topics such as the Football World Cup, you’ll be regaled by the relaxing running river. The Sowe sets the scene for serene speech.
I’ve tried a few things on the menu now, and I can’t for the life of me find the photographs. But I am sure you’ll cope. If you have the strength to read this far, a socking revelation such as the one aforementioned should not shake you.
I thoroughly enjoyed my burger and the beautiful pork belly but the dish which really stood out for me culinarily was the chicken liver pate with homemade red onion relish. Every mouthful truly felt divine. I was bowled over. Empty plate. Not a spec left.
Did I mention the Old Mill doubles as a hotel? The above is not one of the rooms, however it forms part of the building and looks quite lovely to be honest.
So if you’re in Coventry and are tired of running from your life from a hooded menace, come down to the Old Mill. It is quaint; traditional and safe. I have never left without a smile on my face.
And above all, don’t forget to tell lovely Linda I say hello.
Something momentous happened this month. While making my decision about which album I should choose for the coveted spot of Album of the Month, I consulted my father. He agreed with my choice, almost immediately.
Readers, this is unprecedented. Our dear Paul quite nearly disowned me for heralding Youthquake. But he and I are both great fans of Thomas Dolby. His third studio album; Aliens Ate My Buick (1988) might well make Album of the Year.
But we are not here to speak about that, we are here to hear of The Flat Earth. What a masterful piece of music. I would go so far as to say it is a work of art. This album should be protected by UNESCO. I bought the vinyl before listening to the mp3, which is highly unusual for me. When I spoke to Ian at Vinyl Destination, I said “I shall have to buy this record”. He replied “I shall have to agree”. Little did Ian know, he would change my life in a delectably positive way.
When The Flat Earth was released in March 1984, no-one in the UK quite knew what to make of Dolby. And he delighted and perplexed his audience with a record that refused to fit into any pigeonhole whatsoever. (BBC 2009)
From the first note to the last, The Flat Earth is hugely significant. Below is the first track from this momentous album, and my favourite:
As you can hear, this is indeed a work of masterful art.
…the humanity of its creators shines through. (The Quietus 2009)
But the hits don’t stop there; each songs seems tailored to make you feel a throng of emotions. Mostly joy, but sometimes abject horror. This is the key to this album for me; listen carefully to the lyrics, (Screen Kiss is a good example) some of the subject matter might surprise you. I’m listening to White City now and I am in a state of pure bliss. Each stand of this song is brilliant. The strong notable baseline underpinning super synth; the slow crescendo expanding into a riveting rant criticising the banking system. Then the song expands into a government cocaine conspiracy.
Gorgeous transitions between songs also win me over. The chirping insects leading from the White City to Mulu The Rain Forrest and I scare myself. The album has a narrative quality which I have not seen since hearing Grace Jones’ Slave to The Rhythm. Cutting in lyrics in reverse and outtakes from interviews with Dolby make for hair raising listening. Trying to depict the splendour of this album in one light is difficult. I truly believe you’ll enjoy it.
In few words, this album is overwhelmingly superb. Give it a listen and let me know what you think. And remember:
The Earth can be any shape you want it, any shape at all.”
Picture the scene: it’s bank holiday Monday in early May. I find myself in Kenilworth revising by the lovely body of water in Abbey Fields Park. Trusts law is not the most interesting and I was somewhat disturbed by a family outnumbered by their mangy hounds in close proximity.
It was high time for a break. I go to a gardening shop and I ask Linda, the shopkeeper, where the locals drink their cider. Immediately she looks left and right, then whispers in my ear “The Old Bakery”.
Of course none of the preceding events were as dramatic as depicted. I’m just trying to hook you in so you find this description of an exceptional pub even more interesting. That was a half truth, there really was a family outnumbered by their dogs. They frightened me. I wanted to sit in nearby shade but their dogs started barking. I asked them whether it would disturb them if I sat within barking distance. All I got in response were a few primordial grunts. One of them managed, to my surprise, to produce a sentence: “who does he think he is?”. Thoroughly confused, my revision did not at all go well.
Two things became immediately apparent. The first was the litany of awards on the wall. This pub has won best pub in Warwickshire, although the co-owner intimated to me that the boundaries of the awarding body excluded Leamington Spa from their ‘Warwickshire region’.
Nonetheless, the second thing I notices was a resplendent blue carpet with matching chair covers. This is quite rare in pubs and certainly inspires confidence in the clientele. The hotel owners have enough confidence in their customers to not spill various extremely well kept beers all over the place. The Old Bakery must be a pub of exceptional repute. It is also famed for its daily homemade fresh food, which I have yet to sample.
It came as no surprise that this pub doubles as a fine hotel. Indeed this will be where I send my family when they come down to Warwick from Yorkshire for my graduation at the end of July.
The Old Bakery’s excellent location means my family will be ten minutes from my home in Canley. Thankfully I have an expansive driveway so finding room for three or four cars won’t be a problem. Why does this matter? Allow me to elucidate: no faffing around with the exhausting park and ride scheme the university utilises every year! While I admire the work which goes into this scheme and have indeed worked there myself on occasion, it is much easier for me to walk into university.
In summation, the Old Bakery is outstanding, not only for the quality of its ales and ciders but also for its location and fabulous hotel facilities. I recommend it highly.
Whenever I plot a journey to Rome, I like to look though TripAdvisor to get an idea of where I can eat. Lo and behold, Luk, one of my most frequented restaurants in Rome, was #3. Out of 10,000+ restaurants!
Naturally, I had to return. When I studied at Roma Tre, I would eat at Luk at least three times a week. Everything about this place is appealing. The understated outward appearance; family run; few tables. While Luk is not situated in the friendliest area of Rome, it provides an air of exclusivity. Each time I went at a conventional dining hour, the queue stretched out the door. Even Romans are willing to wait for this perfect panini!
Of course, Panineria Luk does not sell only paninis, they are famed for their burgers. Priced at a modest £5, these double as the best and cheapest burgers in the Eternal City. It brings me great joy to be able to recommend Luk to you personally. He and his brother came to know me so well, I would not even need to order when I entered, they would make my usual right away!
Now without further ado; photographic evidence of the culinary masterpiece that is a Luk Burger:
Oh yes, the dangling pancetta; top quality beef burger cooked perfectly; homemade caccio e pepe mayonnaise and sun dried tomatoes in olive oil… This is Luk’s burger.
Luk makes all his own condiments. These include my two favourites; mayonnaise caccio e pepe and his truffle mayonnaise. But there are about 16 potential toppings and none of them are extra. It is 4.50€ for a burger. £5 with a drink at lunch. There is a 50c surcharge at night.
In all, you won’t find a better burger in Rome for this price. Have a look at my old Roma Tre law school while you’re there, it’s quite impressive.
