Silk Road, 10th April

Chinese is arguably my boyfriend’s favourite cuisine, but, while I enjoyed the odd chow mein or spring roll, it wasn’t something that I routinely craved. Discovering the regional cuisine of Sichuan, Hunan and, now, XinJiang has rather changed that.

While they’re all, obviously, different regions, they do have similarities in their liberal use of hot peppers and offally ingredients. Ba Shan is an excellent example of this and Silk Road, where I went on Wednesday, is another.

There’s at least a handful or reviews and blog posts about this place and I must admit I’m not really adding anything new to the canon. Silk Road is cheap, delicious, and a pain to get to. More of a café than a restaurant, we remembered to book a few days before we planned to go and as we heard them turning people away, saying there was a one hour wait, we realised it had been essential. From just after we arrived the place was full and stayed that way all night. On a Wednesday! In the depths of Camberwell!

I had heard that the menu was quite short but it was still long enough for it to take us quite some time to decide on which dishes to choose. They all sounded pretty good and we didn’t want to waste our long trip down (and back) by ordering something sub-par.

There were four of us and we went for the following:

• Big plate chicken
• Double cooked pork
• Pork and celery dumplings
• Eight lamb skewers
• Bak choi in garlic sauce (we felt like just ought to have some veg – our mothers would be proud)
• Shredded tripe with onions and chillies (a wild card dish at Stephen’s insistence that we try something different)
• Two boiled rice.

The pork and celery dumplings came first. You get ten for £3.00 and each dumpling was very generously filled. They were great, slightly chewy dough with juicy pork and finely shredded celery inside. It’s not a combination I’d had before but it really worked, with the celery adding a lightness and freshness to the dumplings.

Shortly after the double cooked pork arrived – thin slices of it thoroughly coated in a sweet, hot sauce with liberal red and green chillies. That sauce was fantastic – the first bite had quite a kick to it but it was manageable if you didn't eat too many of the fresh chillies at once. The pork was soft and each bit had a bit of naughty fat on its edge.

I worried that they might bring my least anticipated dish at the end – the tripe, but luckily, it came out as we were halfway through the pork. It didn’t look that appetising – the onions and tripe were pale and drab with the fresh green chillies the only vibrant and inviting thing on the plate. We all had a tentative bite and pronounced it – OK! The tripe was soft, the texture not unpleasant, and, to be honest, didn’t have much of a taste. It was inoffensive. We had a few forkfuls each and then eagerly went back to finish off the pork.

Then the skewers arrived. From my reading I knew not to let these sit on the table for too long and quickly grabbed my two skewers. Each skewer had about 6 little morsels of crispy, fatty lamb dusted with cumin (I think). They were amazing. My favourite dish up until that point.

The piece de resistance was, of course, the big plate chicken. A massive bowl was brought to the table full of a steaming brown sauce, star anise scents emanating from it. There were the requisite chillies floating about – fresh green ones and those dried red chillies that must have been soaking in the broth for so long they had rehydrated. There were large chunks of potato and of course the chicken pieces on the bone.

We scooped out several pieces of chicken and potato into little bowls, with a bit of the broth and all marvelled at the taste. I have never tasted chicken like it. It didn’t even look like chicken – it looked like barbequed pork. It was so dark, so fully had it absorbed the flavours from the soup. They must marinate the hell out of that chicken. The broth had a very savoury taste to it that was incredibly more-ish. But this was also where the heat lay and it was easy to forget this when you were spooning it out. There were sniffles all round.

We’d only taken a little out of the pot when the handful of noodles (the largest noodles I’ve ever seen) were dumped into the plate. I’d thought this happened when you’d completely depleted the dish of meat and potatoes, but no matter.

Such was the size and length of them, one portion worked out to about two noodles each. Now, I like noodles, but normally I’m more of a fan of the thinner, glass or rice noodles. These were thick, but flat, and meaty, chewy. Slightly sweet. I loved them.

Our feast started to defeat us and we weren’t able to completely finish our big plate, though we did dredge the bowl for the last pieces of chicken. I finished off my share of the rice by adding lots and lots of the soup to create a savoury rice pudding, which in my humble opinion was a fantastic creation.

By this point, I’d ingested so many chillies I think I was beginning to feel a bit spacey. You don’t even really notice it at first but that burn slowly builds. Our very garlicky bak choi provided some relief from the heat, but I kept dipping mine in the soup thus defeating its cooling qualities.

We paid our bill – a princely £15 each (including tip) and departed.

Why, oh why does it have to be in Camberwell?! I’m jonesing for those lamb skewers even now, and sooo want to try the other dishes I’d heard were good – the home style aubergine and cabbage, the fried dumplings. One day I’ll venture there again. 
One day.

Brompton Cemetery, 31st March

I suggested to Stephen we take a stroll around Brompton Cemetery to get us out of the house. We had decided to try to see the Boat Race (me thinking that the cold might put some people off) but we were so lazy we didn't think we'd get there in time by the time we got ready.

My suggestion was vetoed. But we headed over to West London anyway, and wandered back towards central London and what should we stumble upon but Brompton Cemetery! Naturally it would be silly not to have a look in.

It is one of the "Magnificent Seven" cemeteries built around the capital to inter the rapidly rising numbers of deceased bodies that needed a home. So it's a grand cemetery, full of majestically decaying tombs with some impressive and grand statues. Within the first few steps I'd seen several tombs and mausoleums of remarkable or remarkably spooky design.

One such mausoleum we realised had a lattice throught the gaps of which you could see into the inside. Very creepy. We didn't linger.

Yes, so we got in and walked around for about ten minutes and took some pictures. I noticed something at the back of the cemetery that looked worth investigating - possibly some catacombs? - but alas we didn't get that far. A car with a loudspeaker started cruising up the main avenue telling everyone the cemetery shut in ten minutes and to start making our way out. I didn't want to rush looking around the rest, so we duly left and ended up having a nice drink in a lovely pub not far from there - the Drayton Arms.

Simpson's Tavern, 27th March

I'm going to be honest and say that the reason to come here is definitely the novelty value and not the food. One of London's oldest Chop Houses (open since 1757), this was pretty much the only reason I wanted to visit. That and the fact that it;s tucked down a little alley and you can easily completely miss its existence (it's address is 38 1/2 Cornhill).

Only open at lunch times, I made an effort to go before I went back to a 9 to 5 office job. From perusing its menu I knew to expect comfort food not fancy food. And as I've indicated, I was right. We went down the tiny alleyway and was asked by the host if we fancied upstairs or downstairs. Downstairs looked cute so we opted for that, not realising we would be smooshed in with a party of four on a table that yes, did fit in two extra people, but not exactly comfortably. I thought this was because the rest of the dining area might be booked out but as we ate, the other tables didn't fill.

There were two ladies overseeing the dining room - the kind of women that don't take any nonsense I'm sure. Tough as old boots springs to mind. The surroundings were quaint - green banquettes, brass fittings, in little booths lining the small, very small square room. I ordered the pork and cider pie, my friend got the salmon. None of the mains included a side dish - you had to order that extra, which meant for a much more expensive lunch than I'd anticipated. Two mains, three sides and two diet cokes came to 35 quid!

There was nothing wrong with the food really. It was proper stodgy, British food - I had bubble and squeak (which had peas in it, is that weird? I thought it was a bit weird.), my friend had mash and spinach. It was decent.

In another area completely was the tiny bar. I was quite surprised by how many people (all Suits, all men) were there on a lunchtime, pint in hand. I guess it was a Friday. Actually, no it wasn’t.

Even the bar is only open on a lunchtime and I do not work in the vicinity so I shall probably never darken Simpson’s door again. I’m not too disappointed to say so, but I am glad I’ve been at least once. 

A Door in a Wall, 17th March

To say I'm a big fan of treasure hunts would be to grossly understate my enthusiasm. Especially if those treasure hunts have an interactive element.

Having had my first taste of such a thing in New York, completing Accomplice, I then did a couple of treasure hunts in London, one with Hidden City for some real cash money ( which I didn't win) as a prize, and one just for fun.

A friend of mine told me about A Door in a Wall and it sat patiently on my List for a good while until we found out about the 'abridged' version they were doing in Boxpark and its environs.

Normally more expensive and lasting upward of four hours, this one was about £10 and the hunt lasted 2 hours. There was an additional hour for you to ‘make your case’ and for the winner to be decided.

We gathered at the arrival time and were presented with our press packs. The premise was that, as a new fashion company were about to launch their new line (and we were the journalists covering the launch) the chief fashion designer was murdered! We had to uncover the culprit.

Press pass for launch

The packs gave you pretty much all the information you needed, but then we had to sit through a press conference in which it was all repeated, just itching to get out there and get an advantage. We had our approach mapped out and everything. Finally we were set loose on Boxpark to discover what we could about the crime.

We only just about completed in time. What at first seems like not many things to solve is deceptive – you are given six starting points and each starting point leads on to about four further clues which culminate in collecting or noting some evidence. Is it a red herring? You can only really tell once you have followed each and every lead. If you weren’t able to finish and get to each clue, you could easily end up making the wrong deduction.

Clue taking you to Redchurch Street

The clues also lead us further than I was expecting – all the initial clues started in Boxpark but some lead you all the way up Curtain Road and to Arnold Circus (forgive me if you don't know the area). With the clock ticking, to cover all this ground did require some actual physical exertion on occasion! Along the way you might meet some characters who would ply you with the information you needed, though mostly it was a case of guessing the next location, and keeping your eyes peeled and your wits about you once you were there to find the next hint.

A weblink to follow...

The exceptions to this were a recorded voicemail you had to listen to and a couple of YouTube videos that pointed you in the right direction. In this aspect it was very similar to Hidden City where you can complete the trail with no human interaction (you solve clues texted to you to guide you to the next destination where you then answer a question you can only answer by having got to the right place). The addition of some characters along the way was more similar to Accomplice.

But A Door in A Wall differed from both of these by the finale. Once you have gathered as much evidence as you can, you have a sheet to fill in – you say why you have come to the conclusion you have (both why for the culprit, and why not for the other suspects). Then the organisers look over it all and announce a winner.

We were feeling confident. We knew we’d found every clue and had covered all of them in our report. What we hadn’t done was perhaps leave enough time to write this as elegantly and eloquently as possible – we had favoured a bullet point format while scoffing burritos. And that was our downfall. As the winner was announced we were told that it had been very close, very close indeed and in the end had to be decided through articulation. They then gave ‘A Dior in a Wall’ (our hilarious play on words team name – prizes were given for that and we only got an honourable mention) another honourable mention and we knew we had lost.

Next time… next time…

Actually the ‘next time’ is already sold out so…

The time after that… the time after that…

I really, really enjoyed this. I worried at first that it would be too easy but after finding the first one, that fear was blown out the water. No, they got the level of challenge right. The other thing I worried about was that there would be so many people playing that any personal ingenuity would go to waste as you ended up just following other people from clue to clue. That was also a fear quickly dismissed.

I cannot recommend this enough in fact. Take some companions who can think laterally and are willing to put the effort in and you won’t be disappointed.

Now all's left is to do Hint Hunt!

  

The Coal Hole, 16th March

I had forgotten I had this on my List when I picked it as a place to meet before going to the Last Tuesday Society ball! So I didn't take as much note about it as I should have.

I had trepidations about meeting here as someone told me it was small but I hoped it might be able to squeeze us in. I needn’t have worried. Even though I turned up at about half seven, once I made my way through the scrum at the door there was quite an empty space behind the bar. The pub itself was larger than I expected but had the ‘pub’ feel I was expecting.

The Coal Hole made it onto my List for its historical merits – a place where Gilbert & Sullivan used to perform and where the Shakespearean actor started a society for oppressed husbands called the Wolves’ Club. And it felt like a traditional public house. Mostly. Once the football crowd had disappeared. It's an attractive place from the outside and the inside continues this, it has a woody feel to it yet more polished.

I had a glass of wine or two, but they were bought for me so I can’t comment on the cost. I believe a bottle of house was £18 which is not unreasonable, though wasn’t my favourite white wine ever.

My friends noted a more than a pleasing number of men fair of face.

So yes, well worth keeping a note of this place if you want a boozer and you’re on the Strand. Nothing about it really stands out to wax lyrical about but neither does anything stand out to bemoan. 

Birley Salt Beef Bar, 18th March

This is more of a review of a particular food item than that of a venue. Because, if you're going to a salt beef bar, there's really only one thing you should order - the salt beef. And that is what I did. Not that there aren't other things on offer. Like most of the other Birley sandwich branches, they serve various hot meats carved up for you then and there. I barely glanced at them, and ordered a salt beef sandwich on white bread.

Did I want any sauce? Why, yes, ketchup please. Unconventional I know, but more than just a smidgen of mustard is too much for me, and ketchup goes with (almost) everything.

Did I want a pickle? Of course! In the sandwich? Go for it. And in the blink of an eye my server had 'julienned' my gherkin, flattened it to separate each sliver and 'spread' it on the sandwich. It was wrapped up and handed over to me.

I took it outside and hungrily devoured it. The bread wasn't quite doorstep but easily thick enough to handle the generous beef portion. The meat itself was tender, salty, nicely sized chunks and you got some pickle with every bite.

It wasn't gargantuan like the kind you might get in Katz in New York, it was a sensible size for a sandwich, and a sensible price too - 5.75. I, luckily, don't live far from the Beigel places on Brick Lane, where I can satisfy any salt beef craving I might have at any time of the day for less than 4 quid, so the Birley Salt Beef Bar doesn't offer anything to me that I'm in desperate need of. But it does a good job of what it offers. I'd happily get my lunch from them again.

South London Pacific, 17th March

Goodness knows why this place was on my List but it was, and who am I to argue with its appearance there? When moving my List from spreadsheet to blog page, I did research some of the ones whose existence I'd forgotten and I got the impression that, actually, this wasn't really the kind of place I'd normally seek out. It seemed like it was a little cheesy, a little 'high street'. It was also way down in South London where I rarely go. But I couldn't expunge it from the list.

Then, a few weeks ago, my friend suggested we go there for a night called Hula Boogie. This sounded like my kind of night and something of an anomaly for the bar. Voted (I'm not sure by whom) "best vintage club night in London" for the last two years, it's a night devoted to music from the 30s to 60s.

There was to be jive lessons for the early arrivers as well as happy hour on cocktails - 3.95 each until 10. Popcorn, some free chocolate and some vintage clothing stalls.

Well, I got down there too late for the dance class but it turns out there weren't enough people there for it to be held anyway. In fact, the place stayed pretty crowd-free for most of the night, although it did get busier the longer I was there. Not busy enough, however, for me to not feel self-conscious about dancing. Most of the people there really seemed into the scene and knew all the right moves. I didn't feel right sullying the dance floor when they were on there as well. I got the impression a lot of the attendees went every month and all sort of knew each other.

The popcorn was nowhere to be seen but you can't sniff at cocktails for 3.95. They were all 'tiki' cocktails and so all fruity, which isn't really my style anymore, but hey - I still had a few! The clothing looked authentically vintage indeed, with only a glance I was fairly sure nothing there would fit me! After a couple of hours someone came round handing out the chocolate - a candy bar called a 'Jive' (basically a discount Twix, which doesn't mean I didn't appreciate it!)

The music was also all decidedly 50s or 60s, but perhaps I missed the early stuff. Oh, and did I mention this was on a Sunday? It was open until 1 am but not being in the most easy to get to place (a good 10 or so minutes from the Kennington tube station, staying beyond the last tube would have made getting home a nightmare.

So I may have missed some more of the good stuff at the end. I had a nice evening there, but it wasn't busy enough or 'amateur' enough for me to make the journey down there again.