Little Lamb Hot Pot

I'm getting a little bored with writing so I'm going to keep it brief and rely on pictures to describe dinner at Little Lamb on Shaftesbury Avenue.

Little Lamb is a specialist hot pot restaurant but if you're looking for the Lancashire variety then you'll be disappointed. By hot pot, I mean what the Cantonese call ‘daa bin lou’, Mandarin speakers call ‘huo guo’, and what the Japanese know as ‘shabu-shabu’. It's also commonly known as 'steamboat'.

The hot pot here is the common or garden Chinese variety. This is despite Little Lamb's misleading claim that it's a Mongolian & Chinese restaurant. No matter what you call it and what style you go for, hot pot makes for a fun and filling meal. 

Ordering is simple here as you use a tick sheet akin to those found in dim sum restaurants. You can go a la carte but I recommend going for the £20/head set meal (min. 2 persons), where you choose a soup base and five dishes per person. Between the two of us, we saved around a tenner ordering this way.

For the soup base, we went 'yin-yang' with a nourishing herbal tonic and a special spicy soup, into which the assorted meat, seafood, vegetables, mushrooms and noodles are cooked. The faint hearted should beware of the Sichuan-style spicy soup.

The above photos show off the beef, crab, prawns and Fuzhou-style fishballs. Apologies for the lack of photos of the other dishes but my attention drifted towards cooking and eating. In fact, the food was so good that I nearly forgot to take a photo of the noodles. Mind you, there wasn't much of the fensi or mung bean vermicelli left by the time I remembered.

I'd forgotten how much fun, hot pot is and if you don't mind cooking your own dinner then I strongly recommend Little Lamb. I'm also glad that my dining companion, Bellaphon enjoyed it. You should read his write-up, especially if you want to know what else we ate and what it looked like.

Dinner @ Neumarkt (Swiss), Zürich

I know I'm going to come across as whiny and spoilt but eating out on business trips can be hard work. Dinner alone with a book is something I can cope with as a one-off but really it isn't much fun. Sometimes, the local office take you out for dinner but even if your host is uber-convivial, there's a fair amount of shop talk and you can't quite escape the feeling that you’re still at work.

Anyway, I'm very lucky that my mate, Soft Aussie calls Zürich home so at least on one of the nights, I could relax. Joining us was Mr X, Soft Aussie’s mate who's also based out in Switzerland. Over a quick snifter, we mulled over the dinner options. Having briefly considered Chinese, we decided to search for spätzli, the German noodle that is also hugely popular in Switzerland.

We started our search in the Old Town and we searched and we searched but the weather was crap. So in the end, we decided to dive into Neumarkt on the basis that it looked like the kind of place that might serve spätzli. Sadly they didn't but they did have a mix of traditional and modern Swiss dishes on offer.

The Swiss love their bread and it seems every restaurant you go to, it's pretty good and Neumarkt was no exception. For our starters, the guys boringly went for salads (another Swiss fave, especially with lambs lettuce), whilst I had the chicken liver mousse (photo at top). Just what is it with pâté type things; you just never get enough toast. It was decent but what else can I say.

Onto the mains and being a Swiss restaurant, I couldn't get overly excited about these. I ordered roast shoulder of veal w/mash & carrots. The veal was very tender and whilst the dish was a bit rich and heavy, it suited the mood I was in. Swiss Aussie went for a lamb burger w/chips and Mr X, sliced veal w/potato gratiné & carrots. All the dishes were tasty but none set the pulse racing.

However, for all the ordinariness of the food, we all enjoyed dining here. Not least, due to the elegant dining room and in my opinion the star of the evening, a rather fine bottle of red. I don't usually write about wine but I thought the Dôle La Liaudisaz (2008) was a real star; this blend of Pinot Noir and Gamay was fresh, fruity, fragrant, and given how well it went down, silky smooth. So it was a bit of a shame, the wine glasses provided were sub-standard (I'm learning a thing or two from Mr. Wine).

The puzzle was where did this wine originate? Initially, I thought it might be France until I remembered that the French never mix Pinot Noir with Gamay. {Correction - that last sentence is incorrect. the French do mix these two kinds of grape in Bourgogne Passe-Tout-Grains. Big thanks to Londonchinese - I guess I really ought to stick to writing about noodles!}. The label was a bit trendy but it gave no clues as to the origins and nor did the wine list. I didn't think to ask at the time and it's only when I returned home that I had a yearning to find out more about this wine.

Then it dawned on me, could it be Swiss? My research reveals that both Pinot Noir and Gamay, are grown in Switzerland. I did some more research and I found the website of the producer, Marie-Thérèse Chappaz. I felt a bit of a fool when I discovered that Dôle in the name Dôle La Liaudisaz refers to a type of Swiss wine consisting of a blend of Pinot Noir and Gamay. Our bottle was a 60% Pinot Noir/40% Gamay blend – the high Gamay content may have explained why it seemed a bit lighter than Burgundy. I'm looking to track down a bottle of this stuff in blighty!

The only minor blemish on the evening was the service as our waiter was a bit crap. Every other table seemed to be served by someone efficient and charming but we ended up with a slightly slow inelegant chap. He particularly hacked me off with his nonchalant attitude towards wine drips. To avoid further conflict, I assumed wine pouring duty.

Zürich isn't a cheap city but being a bit off the main Old Town drag, Neumarkt isn't a tourist trap. Two courses here cost roughly SFr50 or £30/head, which is reasonable for Zürich although I wouldn't pay more than £20 for the equivalent standard of food in London. The wine was actually one of the cheaper bottles and cost SFr54 (£34), which I thought was reasonable until I found out that it retails for around SFr19 (£12).

Seabrook Crisps

Ostalgie. This term evokes the nostalgia that East Germans feel over certain aspects of their lives before reunification. Whilst I can't even begin to comprehend what life behind the Berlin Wall was like, I can understand how you can feel nostalgic about times past, even when those times were tough. 

That's because I'm an exiled Northerner and suffer from northstalgia. Mind you, I don't feel half as northstalgic as I used to and that's because England has become more Northern. Not of all this is good, Greggs the Baker, Chris Moyles and Vernon Kay can never be good.

Before I forget that I'm writing a food blog, one factor that has made England more Northern is the southward creep of Morrisons. I know many foodies look down on this supermarket because it’s too Northern but that's why I like it.

Morrisons champion the North, by giving shelf space to stuff like black pudding, Eccles cakes, and my favourite, Warburtons bread. Lately, they've started stocking Seabrook crisps (currently on special offer at 60p for a six-pack) in their London branches.

These crinkle-cut crisps take me back to the school playground but would they be as good as I remembered ? The answer is yes and I reckon they're tastier than many of the posh crisps doing the rounds. That said these are the ramblings of a nostalgic Northerner !

Sod all to do with crisps but I recommend that you get ‘Good Bye Lenin!’ out on DVD. This bittersweet comedy is the definitive Ostalgie film and ranks alongside ‘Downfall’ and ‘The Lives of Others’ as one of the finest German films of the last decade. 

Fishball Noodle Soup

I'm not sure I can get away with calling this a recipe as I'm merely heating stuff up. Mind you, what I'm doing isn't too far removed from what many Chinatown caffs do when they serve up fishball noodle soup or yu dan tang mein as it's called in Cantonese.

I know us bloggers are a precious bunch as we bang on about how you can't get a decent burger/pizza/burrito in London. But you really can't get fishball noodles in London that compare to those found in cities like Hong Kong and Singapore. I could spend an entire post on why that is but suffice to say fishballs are one of those Chinese staples that don't quite cut it in blighty. In fact, the only time I've given a place a really bad write-up was over a bowl of fishball noodles at HK Diner.  

So anyway, you might as well make this at home but before you do, you need to visit your local Chinese supermarket to get some pre-cooked fishballs (£3.60/450g pkt) and some fresh egg noodles (£1.35/400g pkt). These fresh egg noodles are called san mein in Cantonese and they are usually labelled as wonton noodles in English. It will come as no surprise that they are most commonly used in wonton noodle soup!

If you can't get hold of fresh noodles then rice vermicelli or dried egg noodles can be used instead. You'll also need some pak choi (or other leafy veg), spring onion, coriander, ginger, star anise, and a stock cube.

Fishball Noodle Soup (serves one)

This recipe serves one but by using the power of multiplication, you can make multiple portions. There are some tips in italics.

1) Dissolve a fish stock cube in 500ml of boiling water (you can use chicken stock instead or if you’re a pro, you may have your own stock).

2) Add ginger, star anise, coriander, spring onion to the fish stock and simmer for about 25-30 minutes.

3) Add fish balls then wait a couple of minutes before adding pak choi to soup, cook for a further 3 minutes. (between 8 and 10 fish balls per person is ample, you can also add sliced Chinese fish cake too).

4) In a separate saucepan, cook one nest of noodles for 30 seconds, drain then rinse under cold tap, and shake off excess water (always rinse fresh egg noodles otherwise they'll have a 'soapy' aftertaste).

5) Remove ginger, coriander, spring onion, and star anise from soup and discard.

6) Put noodles in soup and give them a quick shake to reheat.

7) Place noodles, fish balls, and pak choi in a bowl then pour the soup over these.

8) Garnish with fresh coriander and/or chopped spring onion (chives are an option too).

9) Add sesame oil or chilli oil (optional depending on personal preference).

If you want to make this dish with a South East Asian twist then add galangal and lemongrass instead of ginger and at the end, add some lime juice, chopped chillies, and fish sauce.

I was pretty chuffed with this bowl of noodles but any tips and tricks from proper cooks are most welcome.

Dinner @ Taste of Beijing (Chinese), London

{Update May 2010 - Sadly, this restaurant is now closed, which is a shame as it was somewhere that offered something different. Kake - thanks for letting me know} 

North and South - it's what defines us in so many ways. As an Englishman, I'm very much a Northerner and proud of it. Yet when it comes to being Chinese, my Cantonese roots mark me out as a Southerner and like most of my kind I get pretty snobby about Chinese cuisine, north of the Yangtze.

So when I was kindly invited to Taste of Beijing by fellow blogger, Bellaphon, I very much had my Southerner hat on. I've visited Beijing a few times and I think it's a great foodie destination but like many large cities, much of its appeal is derived from its cultural diversity rather than its homegrown delights. In Beijing's case, you can sample food from across all of China and it's where I started my love affair with Sichuan cuisine and where I first sampled the culinary delights of Hunan and Yunnan provinces. However, apart from the high-end Peking duck and the low-end dumplings or jiaozi, I'm pretty much immune to the charms of Northern Chinese cuisine. That's probably why I hadn't got round to coming here 'til I was invited. 

Helen (Food Stories), and Ewan and Sarah from the Randomness Guide to London joined Bellaphon and I at this Soho eatery on Frith St. First impressions were good with the incredibly helpful and charming owner on hand to navigate us through the main menu and the 'Chinese' menu.

As well as Northern Chinese cuisine, the menu has a selection of dishes from across China including Sichuan and Cantonese classics. In a mix of Mandarin, Cantonese, English, and drawing pictures, the owner helped us to assemble a decent spread. In descending order of excellence (although my dining companions may disagree on the ranking), we tucked into the following:

Spicy & fragrant casserole – this Sichuan style dish consists of (allegedly) 47 ingredients including giant tiger prawns (on the shell), squid, mange tout, and lotus root. With dried chillies and Sichuan peppercorns, it had the trademark ma-la numbing heat and was the definitely the star of the dinner. Although described as a casserole, it was actually a dry-ish dish served in a wok. 

Imho, the next best dish was the Beijing-style BBQ fish topped with a sauce featuring dried chillies and Chinese mushrooms. This was from the Chinese menu and the owner described it as their No 1 dish. It was tasty but I prefer my fish steamed. 

Yi Yang Fang pancake, with egg, sesame & coriander – a traditional Beijing street snack usually eaten for breakfast. It seemed quite appropriate that we had a pancake as it was Shrove Tuesday. 

From the Chinese menu, 'fresh' jiaozi boiled dumplings filled with chives, egg & spring onion. Again a classic Beijing dish served with a vinegar dip. Again appropriate as we were still celebrating the Chinese New Year and jiaozi was originally a festive dish. 

To bulk out the meal we ordered stir fried Chinese kale or gai lan and stir-fry shredded potato. Spuds are quite commonly used in Northern Chinese cuisine although they were a tad bland here.

From the Chinese menu, zhajiangmian, literally fried bean paste noodles. Full disclosure here, I'm not the biggest fan of this classic Northern Chinese noodle dish even when I've had it in Beijing or in Seoul (this is reputedly Korea's favourite Chinese dish). In theory, julienned veg, minced pork, and fried bean paste mixed into noodles should be a winner. But I've come to the conclusion that zhajiangmian and I will never be best mates especially when cucumber is the only veg in this version.

I also got the impression that my dining companions weren't big fans of these bland noodles either. They do have other noodle dishes here including dan dan noodles from Sichuan and Cantonese fried beef ho fun. The picture at the top of the post are of 'Old Mother hand-made knife-cut noodles' which I sampled on a subsequent visit that I made to make notes on the menu. This is also a Beijing dish and thankfully a tastier bowl of noodles. 

The final dish was yu xiang qiezi from the Chinese menu. These are commonly known as fish-fragrant or sea-spicy aubergines. This was the low point as they were actually more like sweet & sour aubergines – a poor rendition of a Sichuan classic and the only real bum note.

I have a soft spot for places like these – seating capacity could be no more than 25 – and I really liked Taste of Beijing. This was largely due to the the genuinely charming and helpful service. In particular their willingness to explain what was on the Chinese menu, which made a refreshing change from the mardy sods in Chinatown. 

The bill came to £95 including some beers but the owner knocked £10 off the bill (this was an unsolicited discount), which we rounded up to £100 to include a tip – decent value at £20/head. The discount may or may not have been connected to the fact that the owner thought we were from a newspaper or a magazine. I wasn't sure whether to feel happy or sad at this. On the one hand, I thought it amusing that she thought our jolly party of five were professional food writers. On the other, I'd hate to be mistaken for a group that might include Guy Dimond.

Verdict: Do come here. Whilst not every dish was a winner, the spicy & fragrant casserole is a must-order and you can build a feast around that with some help from the staff. 

Other Stuff: The owner used to be a TV presenter in Beijing. It's our gain and most definitely China's loss that she's no longer on their TV screens.

Thanks to Ewan for letting me borrow a photo of the spicy & fragrant casserole.