by Cedric | Oct 16, 2019 | Food and Drink, General
It’s been just over one year since I arrived in the wonderful city of Birmingham. This city which has in so short a time, done so much for me. Not by itself of course, cities are not sentient beings (Coventry being the exception). The amalgam of my experiences here cannot be distilled in 300 or so words. When I think back on the eateries which have been the stage for the most progressive conversations I have had this year, BTP Harborne comes out on top. I should say the cover photo is unrelated to Boston Tea Party or indeed Birmingham at all. It is a wonderful park in Bearwood called Warley Woods, which I do recommend.
Tucked away in plain sight, this wonderful restaurant (for want of a better word) has been a frequent haunt for me. Living in Harborne for the whole of my time in Birmingham, aside from a brief period where I was seconded to Selly Oak, I have always been within walking distance of BTP and have used this to my advantage. This is a charming and peaceful place to have a coffee or a good quality meal for a relatively small fare. In addition, it is a Midlands based chain which does not rankle my objection to spending loadsamoney in places which already boast fat pockets.
One of my BTP highlights was the cheese and pine nut scone which they, alas, do not produce any longer. The sweet scones are almost equivalent in their deliciousness, but nothing will beat a savoury treat, for this reviewer at least.
On my most recent visit, Louise & I had a rather very profound discussion which altered my world view, as so many of our talks are. Between pronouncements, I ate the Boss Burger which consisted of breakfast in a bun, essentially. This included hash browns, bacon and avocado. As you can see from the excellent photograph below, this proved quite the treat. Often one does not come to expect excellence from chains but this burger was bursting with flavour as it bursted from its containing buns. Every morsel was a treat.
Louise in her ancient wisdom opted for the Breakfast. We discussed her upcoming autobiography “Breakfast Food at Lunchtime and Other Assorted Scandals”. No I jest, her autobiography’s title is so rude it wouldn’t be fair on my readers to write it here. I sampled her roasted saussie and it was quite delectable. I would recommend this substantial fare to anyone with a mouth.
Now, in closing, it would be remiss of me not to note the kindness of the waiters at BTP. They are always rushed off their feet but very attentive and will seldom let you finish your food without taking your plate away and taking genuine interest in your level of enjoyment. Perhaps this is a Harbonian trait and aimed at the vast wealth contained in this square mile of Birmingham in the hope of a tip, or perhaps it is simply good manners. Who is to say?
In any case I am continually impressed by the quality of BTP Harborne and advise you to have a tall Americano there. the ensuing panic attack is well worth it.
by Nicholas Jenkins | Oct 9, 2019 | Food and Drink, General
The Heuriger is an institution in Vienna. The idea is simple: serve new wines, locally sourced, together with a largely cold buffet, add some traditional Viennese songs in the background for some extra Gemütlichkeit, and watch the paying public come rolling on in. It’s easy to see why these wine taverns are so successful, especially the one dad and I visited in Grinzing, a suburb north of the city centre.
Heuriger translates to “this year’s wine” in Austrian and Bavarian dialects of German. The tradition of serving new wines like this dates back to the reign of enlightened Habsburg emperor Joseph II who decreed that his subjects could sell wine from their own properties without a special permit. Enlightened indeed! Grinzing itself has its own fair share of history. In Beethoven’s day it was a village outside the city walls, and the great composer visited here often to recover from his many illnesses, as well as famously nearby Heiligenstadt. Franz Schubert, too, came here often and I believe Einstein may have lived here briefly. Gustav Mahler is buried in the local cemetery.
Anyhow, I think that’s enough mention of dead people and cemeteries for one food review, let’s give some thought to the cuisine. Starting with the drinks. Pater and I enjoyed the local wines greatly, but the particular highlights were the Veltliner and Riesling (from Nussberg). No doubt a distinguished wine critic like Cedric would be able to tell you the various different flavours of fruit and vegetables these hinted at, but I also distinctly tasted wine alongside these.
The food is a kind of walk up to the stout waiter and ask for a plateful kind of affair, which suits me wonderfully because of my enormous gluttony. To start with we opted for a couple of small dishes, a variety of local cheeses, a salad of sliced carrots and sauerkraut, a tasty quiche and a dish of Speck accompanied by a rather long sausage.
For what I suppose might be described as the mains, dad and I went our separate culinary ways, himself opting for the mushroom goulash, yours truly judiciously choosing the Braten (roast pork). Both came with a big dumpling which soaked up the alcohol nicely.
The atmosphere is key to the success of this place. It’s convivial, and very Austrian. It’s the sort place you could see Brahms (the North German interloper to Vienna) turning up to, cigar in hand, to admire some of the Grinzing Fräulein or Schubert, rocking up with his circle of friends, drinking their wistful melancholy away.
I am pleased to say a storm interrupted proceedings halfway through, as if in homage to Beethoven’s sixth symphony. This was a quite a joy for dad and I as we appreciated mother nature’s knowing reference. The heavens soon cleared as well, and the two of us left this charming spot, with “Freude” in our hearts and wine in our guts.
by Nicholas Jenkins | Sep 18, 2019 | Food and Drink, General
Many people have inquired from me how to go about life without being blown-over with awed appreciation. To this I invariably reply that one should start by not asking for restaurant recommendations from Cedric Conboy. You see this mutual friend of ours has an extraordinary knack of finding eateries that make one’s jaw hang open. I don’t suppose that Cedric has ever visited Melk, yet when Dad and I turned to him for a place to have dinner in the charming little town during our recent cycle ride along the Danube, he came up with the goods as if he were a lederhosen-wearing local named Friedl.
Hotel zur Post is a delightful little haunt with a stunning view of the Benedictine monastery. It’s traditional, family run, with excellent quality to match. Father and I kicked off the proceedings with a glass of the local beer which went down very nicely after a long day’s cycling, believe me. After this we ordered a bottle of Veltliner and eagerly awaited our mains.
The Paterfamilias had ordered a sumptuous dish of chicken breast with a tomato, basil and mushroom sauce complete with small dumplings. By the look of things he enjoyed this greatly. Which is the least that can be said of what I thought about my exquisite main: taglioni in a truffle sauce with Danube crayfish.
If I had any great knowledge of food, cooking or indeed even the most basic insight into either, I could tell you why I found it so delicious. But as I don’t, I can only say it was tasty. In fact, it was bloody tasty.
On to the deserts, Pop Jenkins opted for a gooseberry tart for reasons unbeknownst to me. I, on the other hand, judiciously selected the Topfenstrudel, cream cheese strudel, which was very nice. Presumably this had something to do with how the chef prepared it, but I haven’t the foggiest.
We ended the evening with a drop of Apricot Schnapps, or Marillenschnapps, and parted ways with Hotel zur Post on the most cordial of terms. Praise must be heaped on this worthy establishment, as it must be on the man who recommended it.
by Nicholas Jenkins | Sep 3, 2019 | Food and Drink, General
Dear loyal readers, I return, but this time exiled to Hull, and surprisingly enjoying it. I suppose it will now become my task to persuade the world that there is more than just the letter e that separates Hull from Hell. But believe me, it is not all Stygian gloom up here, the people are friendly and I have fallen in love with the old town with its cobbled streets and many pubs. One place that has become a bit of a staple for me is the Brain Jar.
The Brain Jar, in case you were wondering, is a little bar near the Minster that serves a variety of drinks as well as a selection of food. I’m afraid owing to being constitutionally boring, I have opted every time for some whiskey, Laphroaig or Talisker Skye usually. But I am sure Cedric’s more adventurous audience will be able to pick something slightly fruitier.
I believe the technical term for this place would be “funky”. The decor is interesting to say the least, complete with a bebosomed banana, and generally there is an atmosphere of hipness that even this perennially uncool reviewer could not help but notice.
As for the food, well that is where it gets special. You see, they serve home-made pizzas here with a choice of toppings. Crispy authentic, and very delicious. The one pictured below has nduja on it. Up until now I had not realised nduja was a thing. Clearly, the royal society for nduja awareness must get their act together. It is quite spicy, so good if you like that kind of thing.
To conclude, as I suppose I ought to, the Brain Jar, is a pleasant find, with a good selection of drinks, great pizza, and “hip” atmosphere. It all just goes to show one can make a heaven out of Hull, a Hull out of heaven.
by Cedric | Aug 21, 2019 | Food and Drink, General
Well well well… who knew Da Michele had an outlet in London? Most of London I suppose. Once I caught wind that there was a place in London, Baker Street no less, where I could sample genuine Neapolitan pizza, I could not but make the long and arduous journey to London. I had to sample Da Michele, I had to know how accurate their pizza was. Let me tell you, dear readers, I was not disappointed.
Poetry could and ostensibly has, been written about Neapolitan pizza. This one was a fine example. Observe the freshly made dough, genuine tomato sauce, healthy helping of fior di latte mozzarella and enormous basil leaves. The combination makes for something really genuine and hopelessly divine.
Above is the half and half. If you look closely at this photograph, you should be able to see individual tomato seeds. This is impressive. Often, less astute pizzaiolos will use some rubbish low quality sauce for the base. To me, this should be made a criminal offence. Da Michele have succeeded in making a genuine Neapolitan dough and excel in each ingredient used for the topping. Everything here is at the height of quality and exceedingly tasteful, as well as tasty.
St Nick, in his astral wisdom (pun intended), went for the Neapolitana. This included capers and, it pains me to say, anchovies. It stands to reason that this slimy salt sliver should be on pizza. Pizza was originally made for sailors in Naples using gone off bread and whatever toppings they had around. Originating in the port of Naples, it should make sense that they put anchovies on this marvellous dish.
Overall, I was most impressed by Da Michele. Sitting back having finished my pizza, I took my napkin from under my chin, wiped my mouth and sighed a sigh of pure joy. This is what it is like to feel Italian. I was thrown back to my time in Rome where this sigh would be a daily experience. They do things better on the continent I think. Here in England, we specialise in hullabaloo. Huxley writes that people waste a lot of time despite knowing better, this is not the case at table in Naples. Every bite is designed especially for the consumer and brings to him a burst of joy incomparable to standard or even extraordinary English pizza. Da Michele is one of two establishments in this country where I have been genuinely satisfied with my pizza. The other being, of course, Alicia’s.
Every man with a little leisure and enough money for railway tickets, every man, indeed, who knows how to read, has it in his power to magnify himself, to multiply the ways in which he exists. to make his life full, significant and interesting. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, most of us prefer to spend our leisure and our surplus energies in elaborately, brainlessly and expensively murdering time.
Aldous Huxley, Jesting Pilate
Stop murdering time and head over to Da Michele. You won’t regret the awakening you shall receive.
by Cedric | Aug 18, 2019 | Food and Drink, General
For the few of you who didn’t hear me shouting about my new job, I got a new job! I find myself in the environs of central Birmingham on a daily basis now. Occasionally, I fall prey to hunger and must sate this urge by dining in fine cost effective establishments. Not since dining at En Diagonal in Barcelona have I tasted such authentic Spanish food. And for lunch too!
The first of the dishes sampled was the Croquetas de Boletus (Wild Mushroom and Bechamel Croquetas). I also sampled the same with meat (Croquetas de Jamón Iberico, Ham and Béchamel Croquetas). I’ll always remember first alighting in Madrid and going to a local cafe for lunch. I had a Jamon Iberico sandwich and was so very impressed with its flavour. Here, too, the Jamon was beautifully cured and sliced finely so as not to choke me. I was terribly grateful for this.
We followed suit, as I did in En Diagonal, with chorizo slow cooked in cider. The Chorizo a la Sidra positively blew me away with its tenderness and unforgettable flavour. Perhaps the dish was a bit too oily overall but I found it remarkably yummy. The Pimientos de Padrón, however, did not impress. I do not know why I continue to order bland food knowing it will only suffuse me with white rage. 
The chicken wings (Alitas de Pollo Crispy Chicken Wings, Sweet and Spicy Diabla Sauce) were quite delicious also.
If my ex still reads this blog, she would recoil in horror at the Patatas Bravas (Rustic Fried Potatoes with Spicy Tomato Sauce and Alioli). I’m not sure how I feel about sauce which clearly emanated from a plastic cylinder but the potatoes themselves were quite satisfactory.
In all, I would recommend this place for an economical and delightful lunch. The flavours are authentic even if the cooking of the economical option is not done with the greatest care. But this is the same across all restaurants. Put yourself in the chef’s rubber shoes.
