Tour of Torquay

A brief, but memorable weekend to Torquay was brought to a close by an hour of walking up and down the promenade waiting for Wimpy restaurant to open.

Having visited friends that weekend, I saw my first real-life, in the flesh, Wimpy, of which I had heard so much, and of which nothing good was said. I was fascinated.



Alas, on the Sunday it did not open until 12 noon, so off we went in search of further succor.




Oh, yes, a Cornish pasty store. In lieu of decent pies in this country, the pasty is the next best thing. As we are the closest to Cornwall that I had ever been, a pasty to fortify the spirit seemed to be in order.



The usual choices of meat+potato = goodness.



All of the choices also conveniently printed on your paper bag, in case you wish to return for seconds: what a great idea!



At first glance, exactly what one would expect. Firm crust; not too greasy; large and risen; crunchy to bite...



Unfortunately, it was all but hollow...



The pastry was thicker than expected: less like a puff pastry than one of those unfortunate pastry shells used to contain a filling when baking, and to be discarded before consumption. Possibly very authentic, but certainly not good for the stomach.



Yes, we had found the black hole of Calcutta...



Back to our main feature: Wimpy's! As a young lad, brought up on cartoons and comic books, I was enamoured by the manly adventures of Popeye, and his menagerie of friends: one of whom of course wisely said: "I would gladly pay you Tuesday for a burger today". Wise economics, indeed. I think, although might stand corrected, that Wimpy as a chain was named for the eponymous hamburger consumer.



Wimpy's is (or was) a chain of restaurants from the 70s, and indigenous to the UK. Boasting burgers, and their ilk, this was a sit down restaurant, not one of those self-service upstarts!



Alas, MacDonald's took over, and Wimpy restaurants are now rarely sighted in their natural habitat.



It seems that in the sleepy town of Torquay, where the average age of the local fauna is around 65, this bygone from a gentler age still exists... just...



Yes, the menu is incredibly extensive, with helpful photos in case one couldn't picture a chicken nugget, or bangers and mash.



When ordering at the counter, I was told that this is a sit down menu, and asked to well... sit down. Once seated, I was asked my order... I guess when in Rome, do as Romans do.



The general hygiene of the place was highly suspect, with the loos in serious disrepair and dangerous overfill - and lit by ultra violet lights; possibly to help clean the harder to find stains.



Our quarter-pounder equivalent firmly ensconced in a generic paper bag, we head off in search of the station.



Mmmmm greasealicious good. At least it's in a wholemeal bun, for that semblance of healthy eating.



That's not pus, it's cheese! (we think).



The flaccid, and somewhat old, chips are served in a generic styrofoam container used by the most (and least) reputable kebab shops and vans.



After chomping through a half of the burger, we hit the mother lode of onions, all huddling in one corner, ready to make a last stand.

All in all, not to be recommended; another cherished childhood memory bites the dust.

The best falafels we've ever had!

Nameless little shack
Gloucester Green
Oxford



This nondescript little shack, with no branding and no fanfare, is almost always crowded with Middle Eastern customers.



Sandwiched between a shoe repair place and a dodgy fried chicken shack, we'd passed but never been adventurous to try it, until a friend gave it her highest recommendations.



Riffs on a theme: we were told to try their falafel - the best in town.



A tiny but immaculately clean cooking area within the shack. The metal container contains the chickpea mix, which is made into falafel shapes and deep fried to order. The proprietor told us that falafels simply don't age well, and that all these place serving days-old falafel were cheating their customers.



A range of shashlik kebabs were also offered via colour photographs, but everybody was ordering the falafel wraps.



Additional fillings: salad, pickled gherkins, pickled chillies, fried potato; as well as spinach and halloumi for other dishes that they serve.



Hummous, and the shashliks.



Our falafels are wrapped in turkish bread, dense and chewy but thin so that they aren't too heavy.



Doused with a little garlic mayo and chili sauce, this was actually heaven - even though it was vegetarian.



The falafel are tasty, with a distinct nutty flavour from the chickpeas. Not at all dry, the falafel itself would have been great with dips, but wrapped with a crisp salad of contrasting savoury, sharp and zingy flavours, this was a total winner.



The entire wrap had been toasted quickly in a panini press before serving, so that the flat bread had time to warm up and crisp slightly.

The damage: £2.80 for a falafel and hummous wrap, 20p more if you want some crispy potatoes. Better than any baguette you will find in town, and definitely the best falafel we've so far tasted.

New College Guest Night - revisited

New College
Oxford



In our previous installment on Guest Night at New College, your reviewers panned the ability of Chef to construct a cohesive dish, and his total lack in common sense in sticking foie gras into lumpy mashed potato.



We return once more to sample what an Oxford college can provide.



A very pretty salmon starter appeared, capped with toast and paired with a baby leaf salad. Certainly an improvement upon last time, with the salmon tasting mild and creamy, balanced well by a herb dressing and a slight sharpness from the green leaves.



Mostly mild, the salad was comprised of fancy lettuces and baby spinach, but the occasional rocket leaf added some zing.



Curiously, the High Table was always served almost table-side, by a portable service unit. Did their mains get cold quicker than ours, necessitating this stainless steel display of culinary dexterity? Who knows. In our opinion, it just added clanking racket to the already bustling hall.



High Table, cloaked in darkness - could they see what they were eating?



Steak and mash - redux.



This time the mash was much creamier, although still slightly heavy. Served as an imperfect quenelles still indicated a rushed service. No real complaints, as Chef would need to plate almost 150 servings simultaneously - something few restaurants would wish to attempt.



The steak this time immediately caught our attention. Rather than the flaccid, grey splodge of the previous visit, this filet mignon was pert, caramalised, and crusted nicely with aromatic spices that at once suffused our senses in the most pleasant way.



Served atop sauteed cabbage and green beans with a simple jus, it was all done to the internal temperature to decide whether or not this meal would be sublime.





Look at that delicious spice crust. A mix of fennel, cumin and coriander seeds, the steak tasted faintly of anise mingled with the musk of cumin, which, usually served with lamb was a heady addition accentuating the meaty taste of the beef.



The vegetarian option was similar, replacing the steak with a crusted, stuffed, portabello mushroom.



Which was declared competent, but still just a mushroom, by our vegetarian friend H.



Yes! Finally, somebody left a bit of pinkness in my steak!



Absolutely brilliant - a medium to medium rare steak is certainly something I can sink my teeth into. Left to rest, the juices had redistributed. Combined with the flavours of the spices, this made for a wonderful morsel.



All washed down with a bottle of Bordeaux we had brought back from Paris.



And followed by a berry mousse topped with a tuille.



A wondered whether Chef was having a mushroom themed dinner, as the entree was also presented in this fashion. Who knows?

All in all, Chef at New has definitely redeemed himself in my books. Having just enjoyed some gorgeous steak in Paris, I could not say that this was the best steak I had eaten for a while, but it is certainly one of the best served to me in the UK - and we eat a lot of steak!

Paris - odds and ends

An assortment of odds and ends from our trip to Paris.



The window display mentioned in our previous post.



Either chickens, or possibly guinea fowl on the left.



Quality burger! Having never tried this French burger chain, I absolutely had to, just for the experience.



Over 7 euro for a burger, fries and chips? This had better be damn good squishy.



These pseudo MacDonald's can be found all over Paris.



Back in our hotel room, the contents of our paper bag is quickly dispensed. Chips are crisp; good.



The burger has a little neck collar, like they have for dogs. Perhaps they too bite their stitches? The verdict: not awful, but not great. The bread is sweet and slightly brioche-like. The patty is fairly bland and generic, and the cheese is... processed cheese.



Pomme de Pain is a chain of baguette/sandwich eateries dotted around the place. I was told off for taking photos inside, but they mainly sell pastries, filled baguettes etc.



Crepe man on the Champ Elysee



Just before visiting the Musee d'Orsay, we stopped for a quick lunch. The restaurant/cafe/bar is located immediately behind the Musee itself.




Seated at the window, we overlooked the museum.



A's steak tartar was very nice, but unexpectedly was mainly flavoured with mustard. The texture and flavour of the meat was very nice, and the chips were crisp but slightly dry and bland, needing either more salt and/or less cooking



The steak was a little too cold for A's liking, and numbed her taste buds slightly. The seasoning was just right, and the mustard flavour didn't overwhelm. The beef was a good cut, and had been chopped, and not ground.



I made the unfortunate mistake of ordering roast chicken. France is famous for its treatment of roast chicken, and indeed on a previous visit to Paris I had the most amazing rotisserie chicken, which I'd hoped to revisit. A food critic once wrote that you should never order roast chicken in a restaurant that did not require prior booking, or at least a delay.

The less we say about this chicken, the better.



The damage: a carafe of house wine, and two mains came to €36. The service was extremely friendly - indeed we only had one incidence of the infamous Parisian waiter syndrome, but everybody else was friendly and helpful.

Honourable mention:



Outside the Jardin du Luxembourg we stopped for a cafe breakfast, and A had the most amazing cappuccino and croissant, and an even better freshly-squeezed orange juice.



My espresso was rich and the crema was, well, creamy!