You’ll never guess which reviewer was in Newcastle last week! Well, you might be able to, it was me. After marvelling at the architecture surrounding Newcastle Station, I was driven to Casa Antonio. Now, when I lived in High Heaton I would go here quite often. The most attractive feature of Casa Antonio is that you can get 3 courses for £4.95. Yes you read right.
Potato Skins are generally my choice for starter, though the soup of the day are always winners. Crispy and light, they pair wonderfully with the sauces provided. But what is great about them is that they still have some of the potato flesh inside which means some of them are chewy. Really there isn’t much else to say, but trust me when I tell you that this dish is fantastic.
Father went for the ragu pizza, which I had a bite of. The dough was made fresh, the topics were good quality and the smell thoroughly intoxicating.
I, on the other hand, went for the pepperoni. When I lived in Rome, I craved one such pizza. Of course it did not occur to me then, until it was too late, that pepperoni has a different meaning in Italian. In this fine language, pepperoni refers to peppers, such as a bell pepper. So you can imagine my shock when my pizza arrived in Rome with green topings instead of red ones!
Nonetheless, the pepperoni (in the English sense) from Casa Antonio was sterling. Not too filling and piping hot. Really delightful dish.
The third course is either ice cream or coffee. Having travelled four hours from Birmingham, I decided to have a coffee. Their espresso is really very good. Cafe lunghi, not so much. I hope you’ll find the time to eat there next time you’re in Newcastle. When considering the volume and quality of food one can get for under £5, the value for money is astonishing.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; this pub is part of a chain. Historically I’ve avoided any such pub, but on this occasion it appears Nicholson’s have taken over and made no material alterations to this pub. It retains a quintessential charm which I’ve sure it must have had in the 17th century. Wooden beams abound and there is no shortage of latticed stained glass partitions. There is an oddly modern extension around the back but the resulting space housed us for our lunch, so I can forgive the teal wood conservatory-esque modern atrocity.
Let’s talk about the Sunday roast. I had the beef, and good grief, what a meal. The parsnips were outrageously flavoursome. The beef just fell apart and joined beautifully with the home made yorkshires. Tasty taters to boot, I was thoroughly impressed.
Patricia being a fountain of wisdom, tried her first fish and chips. They are pictured above. I was only able to taste a morsel of her fine wine and haddy, but the batter was absolutely top shelf, as was the softness and flavour of the haddock. Cooked very well, as expected.
St Nick, as he often does, went for the steak and ale pie. Now when I see mustard seeds anywhere near batter, I make a point of sampling it. And much to my surprise, St Nick let me do so. Wonderful crispy home made batter! I was not privy to any more morsels.
The Eagle and Child lays claim to a number of interesting literary connections. J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and fellow writers met here and dubbed themselves ‘The Inklings’. They nicknamed the pub ‘The Bird and Baby’. A public house since 1650, our hostelry takes its name from the crest of the Earls of Derby. During the Civil War, our building was used as the playhouse for Royalist soldiers. Eagle & Child
Our dear friend Charlotte, who formed the solar plexus of this trip, opted for the roast chicken. The generous portion she allowed me to sample was teeming with flavour and very well cooked. I would recommend it.
In all, I was impressed by this historical pub. The location, service and quality of the food overall lent themselves to a sterling experience which I am eager to repeat. I’d like to thank St Nick personally for suggesting it.
Whether he’s evoking Joy Division’s Ian Curtis or Bauhaus’ Peter Murphy, Maus opts to abstract the genre, inserting noise into unexpected places and walking the line between sincerity and surreality. Pitchfork
From the first time I heard this album I was hooked. Listening to it on one commute to university, I cannot but recognise its magnitude. As one ought to know by now, my albums of choice are numinous. There is something great about this album. The wonderful sweeping soundscapes which Maus creates are flabbergasting and thoroughly affecting.
Maus has a full set of songs whose architecture is just as sophisticated and riveting in actuality as it is in theory. Pitchfork
Hey Moon is described as a lilting lullaby. I think it is necessary in this otherwise ominous album to have such a piece. The beautiful synth in the background as well as the track’s slow pace help one to breath again after being overwhelmed. Personally, I would say Cop Killer is my favourite track. This encapsulates what Maus is capable of producing. Cop Killer is the kind of track which necessitates dropping your phone and just listening. Ride the wave of sound, if you can. There’s something special here.
“a lo-fi synth pop masterpiece that manages to give endless aural delights while still being intellectually engaging, and despite having been caught at the center of a whirlpool of current movements, all of which reflect some aspect of Maus’ style, he has only cemented his identity as a singular, unimpeachable figure. When confronted with music like this, it’s impossible not to be a believer. Tiny Mix Tapes“
Overall, from Streetlight to Believer; this album is a sensation. Each track is unique and devastating in its scope. Perhaps Matter of Fact is an exception to the latter statement. But in a way even this profanity is necessary to bring us back to Earth and readies us for the momentous tracks which follow. I am elated to be able to recommend this album to you. Truly, there is something important about it. I hope you’ll agree.
At long last, I returned to Oxford this weekend. The bustling city of the billion bicycles left me awestruck as ever. Not least because of our first stop, a visit to the historic church of St Aloysius Gozaga. Alas, I could not attend Mass at St Mary’s in Harborne, as is my wont. The train proved too early and I will admit a niggling curiosity at the prospect of a Latin sung Mass at St Aloysius’, the only alternative service.
‘St Aloysius of the Church of Rome:
Its incense, reliquaries, brass and lights
Made all seem plain and trivial back at school.›
—John Betjeman, Summoned by Bells
I should say this is not a review of the service, as such. I had all the previous months’ posts lined up before my exams and have not written for quite some time. The written contents of this post, marvellous though they are, represent a stretching of my calligraphic muscles.
During the service, the choir were hidden away on a balcony behind the congregation. The angelic voices, which streamed from above filled the entire church. Incense mingles with the streams of light through the latticed west window to create a smoke of divine implication. The priests were dressed in purple and gold, their Latin pontifications only adding to the majesty of an already overwhelming sermon.
The church was designed, by J. Hansom, the architect of Arundel Cathedral, and the Holy Name church in Manchester. It is of French Gothic inspiration, and was originally colourfully decorated in an Italianate style. In 1954 the decoration was all painted over with two-tone grey. The last repainting in the 1970s gave the church the colours which can be seen today. Oxford Oratory
In all, I thoroughly enjoyed the service, and, while I don’t seek to convert any of you to Catholicism, I might suggest that you visit this wonderful church on your next trip to Oxford. St Aloysius’ is a beautiful place within an immaculate city. Perhaps if you’re there at 11am on a Sunday, catch the Solemn Mass. You won’t regret it.
I seldom trust anyone to make food related decision on my behalf. St Nick should be honoured greatly that I took a chance on his friend, the so called ‘Polish Michael’, who suggested to him, who then in turn suggested to me. Perhaps I should rename this blog. Moving on, I must admit, completely candidly, that I was overwhelmed by Laghi’s Deli. Hitherto, I had thought only Gustami provided an authentic Italian experience but this place is something else.
A short walk from Five Ways train station, this restaurant is located on a busy thoroughfare. We counted no fewer than 7 ambulances during our meal. But I digress. Laghi’s astounded me. It is a wonder the only fault I can find is the immense amount of people being hurt in the surrounding city.
So here it is, an award-winning restaurant no less, and I really hope you’ll see that this has been borne from a love of food and cooking for others, and enjoying the culture of great food and wine. My aim is to bring a little taste of Bologna to Birmingham. Chef Luca
We opted for the Taglio misto to start, as is my want. This one was divine. The parmesan was there and some gorgeous meats including mortadella and supremely delicious homemade bread.
Patricia took some convincing, but at long last she picked the carbonara. The aspect of this place which astounded me the most; even more than being surrounded by actual Italians, was that THEY HAVE GUANCIALE. I could hardly contain my excitement. The Carbonara was perfect, exactly how it should be. It is pictured below, in all its splendour.
St Nick opted for the calzone. Thankfully there was no all day breakfast here. Otherwise I shudder to think what the waiter would have thought. His opinion of me was already low on account of all the pictures I was taking and the less than adequate perfection of my Italian. I am glad that he ordered the calzone because I was allowed to sample it. Absolute divinity ensued.
Calzone
Folded pizza, mozzarella cheese, tomato sauce & ham. Laghi’s
For my own part, I too chose to devour a pizza. I went for the Queen but replaced the bacon with guanciale. It is not rare for me to have guanciale on account of my very reliable guanciale dealers, but I like having it as often as possible.
It is pictured below. The dough was perfect. The toppings were sparse so as not to overload the pallet. The egg was cooked to oozing perfection. I cannot and shall not fault this pizza.
Laghi’s is famous for its doughnuts, or as the Italians call them; ciambelle. These were just lovely. A great end to a difficult day. They’re pictured below. I especially recommend the custard one, though the chocolate was equally delightful.
Overall, this restaurant shook me to my core. I did not know such miraculous delights existed in Birmingham. The price wasn’t even too shocking considering what we consumed. Had we not drank an entire bottle of Nero D’Avola, it might even have been reasonable. From the ambiance; attentive waiters; location and frightening quality of the food made for an incredible experience. Please go there, and bring your mother.
Sunday lunch will never be the same again. Louise and I, in typical delectable fashion, went out for a meal after Mass to discuss the ramifications of what we have just heard. The High Field was the subject of our culinary assault on this occasion.
We went all out and got three courses. Such is the case when one is famished and deeply affected by their faith. Who knew Catholicism would create such hunger.
Louise opted for the pheasant terrine as a starter. There is something quite divine about the combination of this light terrine and rye bread. I cannot describe how fluffy the bread was. Clearly of very high quality, either made in house of by a bakery.
I, on the other hand, has a gorgeous mushroom and breadcrumb ragu, which was unbelievable. Everything was done to perfection. The sauce was light and not too salty, the mushrooms combined with breadcrumbs and sage made for a delicious crunchy and flavoursome meal. The pasta was cooked just right. I was completely amazed by this and so was Louise. Sadly, she’s not often left speechless.
For the main we both opted for roasts. Louise, in her typical fashionable fashion, went for the pork. I went for the lamb. We are both creatures of habit it seems.
Have you ever seen a Yorkshire pudding quite so large? I had the chance to sample a little of Louise’s before it completely disappeared down her shapely gullet. Divinity made (pork) flesh. Really excellent food. MElt in the mouth, gravy was wonderful. Everything totally top notch. My lamb was just as good.
I love that the mash was under the lamb shank. The roasties were stunning, cooked in good quality oil. The Yorkshire pudding was clearly homemade. You can’t buy puddings that magnificent looking. But the lamb really stole the show. I’ve seldom had a dish so succulent and flavoursome. Certainly not in Birmingham. Top marks for this dish. But now let’s talk about the sides.
Out of the fried stuffing balls, cabbage and cauliflower cheese, I would have to say the stuffing really stood out. This is something which this reviewer insists you try should you lunch at the High Field. There’s no real way to describe them other than jaw dropping.
For dessert I had the cheesecake. Louise and I had to share because we were both so completely stuffed by what came before. It is pictured for your dribbling delectation below.
The lemon sauce, biscuit base, light cheesecake – totally and completely baffling. I was trying to find it on their menu but have since realised that we were there for the final Sunday of the winter menu at the High Field. Now the spring menu is in full force, ready to delight us with more wonderful dishes.
The High Field is a restaurant with which to be reckoned. I have seldom eaten so consistently well in this town. Nor have I seen service comparable to this anywhere. The staff walked around in the restaurant with platters of roasties and Yoskhire puddings for the diners, free of charge. This astounded me more than anything else. The High Field gets 10/10. When I have a reliable income, I shall dine here far more often. Bravo to the team.
