Two new gastronomic experiences
The Wimbledon fortnight, one of the most anticipated events in the British calendar, is reaching its climax and across the country people are settling down to national treasure Sue Barker, a dose of the BBC’s epic montages created in anticipation of the Murray/Nadal semi-final, and a reassuring cup of tea to help calm the nerves as they prepare for the emotional rollercoaster that is supporting a Brit at Wimbledon. We are, of course, joined by the comforting presence of Boris, John Lloyd and Andrew Castle, without whom such a match would be unthinkable.
A week into a three month holiday with my first year of university behind me, and a never-ending stretch of time lies before me. Thus far I have been occupied with the antics of toned tennis players, their bronzed bodies juxtaposed with fluorescent white attire: my diet has not, however, consisted solely of strawberries and cream and triangular sandwiches - this week has also seen my first experience of both Carluccio’s and of one of the highly reputed Ottolenghi establishments. The first, was entirely deliberate; the second, a happy coincidence.
Having avidly watched the BBC series, ‘Two Greedy Italians’, but tragically never having been to Italy, I was captivated by Carluccio and Contaldo’s jovial natures and their Italian, relaxed, laid-back approach to cooking and food, seeking simplicity, quality and flavour, sourced from fresh, local ingredients. The rich, flamboyant images of dishes prepared on the spot hijacked my thoughts and mind, and I consequently made it my mission to visit one of his restaurants forthwith upon returning home for the holidays.
I was not disappointed – as soon as I entered the shop, I found the atmosphere inviting and comfortable, and the setting was bright and appealing, with an enormous array of shelves stacked with a plethora of delicious pastries, preserves and pastas, all calling my name. As a linguist, I was immediately impressed by a breakfast bar with a remarkable range of newspapers in numerous different languages, and I could see myself spending an idle morning with a proper Italian coffee (I later learnt upon studying the menu that you could even choose what type of bean you wanted) whilst perusing The Times, El Pais andLe Monde in succession. After some time spent dissecting the menu, I chose the ‘Zuppa di Funghi con Pancetta’ served with fresh, squidgy Focaccia –a controversial choice for the time of year but given the grey skies, pouring rain and pathetic temperatures which accompanied this particular afternoon, I felt justified in my decision. It was exactly as I had hoped – a hearty soup with lots of substance, generous doses of mushrooms and pancetta and so much flavour, and the perfect hunk of bread to soak it up with. Feeling thoroughly warmed and revitalised, my main course arrived,a similarly aesthetically pleasing affair: titanic pieces of penne with fried balls of spinach and parmesan nestling among them, surrounded by grated courgette and chilli amid a buttery garlic sauce. The garlic was indeed potent, but the flavour was huge – it is rare for me not to add salt to a meal, but unusually I deemed it totally superfluous on my both of my courses – full credit to the chef. After gawping at all the beautiful and mouth-watering goods on offer behind the counter, I left feeling full but exceedingly satisfied and with every intention of returning. After all my unmemorable and rather ordinary experiences of ‘Italian’ restaurant chains such as Ask and Zizzi’s, it was refreshing to have a taste of some authentic Italian cooking of a high quality and of such genuine flavour. Next step – go to the country for a first-hand experience of Italian food!
My second new encounter came about as a result of a wild goose chase on a mission to pay my brother’s girlfriend a visit in the prestigious chocolate shop she works in, Rococo, which I had thought was on the King’s Road. True, there is a branch of Rococo on the King’s Road… but it’s not the one she works in! I consequently resorted to my London A-Z and ‘trekked’ to Belgravia, an area of London which I had never been to, but which I found to be extremely pleasant! After what seemed like a never ending walk, I found myself outside Rococo, reading a sign on the door saying they were closing early today due to a children’s party. I learned my lesson to always check with the relevant individual before making a ‘spontaneous’ visit to their workplace – sod’s law dictates that it will be the one day they are not there or are unavailable! Weary and a little fed up, I turned 180 degrees and what lay before me – none other than an Ottolenghi shop. Since being so inspired by his recipes which I had sampled at a friend’s house, and consequently receiving his book for my birthday, I had always wanted to visit one of his shops and see it for myself, and as if in compensation for the disappointing lack of Rococo chocolates, I happened upon it quite by chance. I rushed towards the door excitedly and was overwhelmed by the vibrant range of salads arranged in huge bowls on the encounter, encompassing more pulses and grains than I could name, all with delicious dressings and a quirky combination of ingredients which most people couldn’t even dream up, yet sitting there in front of me they suddenly seemed obvious. Cursed with the affliction that is indecision, I forwent the salads and settled on a granola bar and a particularly sizeable brownie for my Wimbledon picnic the next day – both of which were exceptional, and the brownie has immediately soared to the top of my list of brownies I have sampled in my life, which given the standard of your average brownie might not be seen as a huge accomplishment – nevertheless, I am impatient to attack my Ottolenghi book in earnest, the white chocolate and macadamia nut brownie being my first port of call.
Next stop Barcelona - it's not Italy, but it is Spain, and I cannot wait to get my hands on some tapas - gambas al ajillo, calamares fritos y patatas bravas, here I come!
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