The Sugar Bar

I haven’t eaten a piece of cow meat for a long time. Translated: I haven’t had beef for months. Yes. It’s madness. Think of that as a teaser, ponder upon that ridiculousness for a bit whilst I beat around the bush…and no, I’m hardly the vegetarian.

The past week’s weather has been drop dead gorgeous and hopefully mentioning that hasn’t jinxed it for this week (probably has by now). Sunny and beautiful as it was, however, I got deceived by it all a couple of times thinking a lighter jacket was more than warm enough for me to step out into the sun. Mistake. More often than not, that first step out into the cold, similar to a newborn baby’s noisy entrance into the world, was followed by general shrieking, long strings of cussing and unattractive groans and grrrs from me. Chanting ’suck it up’ in my head, I spend about 5 mins racing through the cold to warm up and literally walking only in the sunny areas, avoiding all shadowy spots at all costs to get as much warmth as possible. Through the day, I’ll catch myself jerking uncontrollably when a big cold gust of wind comes a-blowing. Travelling between uni, work and home then, I find myself constantly thinking of warm, comfort foods as a way to encourage myself and as incentive to get those icy feet moving quickly to take me home. It certainly is most effective and definitely keeps the strangers from talking to you (I’m that engrossed in my thoughts you see).

I am happy nonetheless with this generous amount of sun we’ve got the past week and it has made the week so much bearable despite the looming deadlines and the awful stack of readings to do. And as the saying goes, good things come in pairs, so did a nice surprise come along with this beautiful sun - some very high (for The Sugar Bar at least) views for 4th March. Because they exceeded my expectations, I rewarded myself with some lovely fresh and tender stewing beef from Waitrose and got set to working on a nice hot stew to keep that bone-chilling cold away as well. In Chinese culture, having meat on the table is representative of how fortunate a family is and is partially reflective of the wealth of that family. In Korea, beef is quite a luxury and eating it becomes an occasion. So I suppose, it wasn’t such a strange thing to reward myself with beef after all! Especially since I hardly ever buy red meats in my weekly shop, finally buying some made it feel all that more special. It’s not that I don’t eat red meat. I actually love a good medium rare steak and other red meats like pork and veal. It’s just that I think cooking red meats require more effort and so never really bother to get them since I can never be sure when I have the time to cook a meal or not and dare not risk having nice meat go bad in the fridge.

I did think at first that a 22 year old like me should probably be buying nail lacquers and pretty notebooks as a reward not packets of bloody red meat from the delicatessen. It just didn’t quite fit the bill but then again, I doubt that ever bothers me; and I’m quite happy to say foodbloggers are a unique species of their own with priorities set right to a tee, fine senses highly tuned and dedicated to the arts of eating, cooking and food-shopping. So why not the beef?! Just chuck it in the shopping basket already now! By the time I’d finished my shopping and was eagerly waiting to pay at the check-outs, so hungry I was all bloodshot eyes and nearly frothing at the mouth, the basket was exploding with root vegetables, baguettes, bitter chocolate, beer and herbs, etc. I didn’t need a sign on my forehead to alert the passersby and fellow Waitrose shoppers that this Diva here was as dangerous as a rabid dog and as ravenous. Minimal chit chat with the lovely lady at the checkout till, quick goodbye and outta there like a flash. Then home, out comes the chopping board. Bang bang chop chop chop and turn on the hob.

Then here comes the biggest joke of my life. Check recipe - stew needs to cook for at least 6 hours. Ok, put lid on and move on to ‘light’ snacking. Had to reprimand myself for not putting the stew on earlier. Panic not though as here’s when I whack out another saying: Good things come to those who wait.

I waited.

And when I was done waiting, it was good. Thoroughly impressed with this recipe which is such a great find from The Parsley Thief blog. Definitely one of those that I’ve saved for future use, especially for meal times with the family. I think Dad will be very happy to find a stew like this at the dinner table. What a meat man. Not really a Guinness man but he’ll appreciate the blokish-ness of this dish. Plus bitter chocolate sure gives it such a cool edginess I think the rest of the girlies in my house will adore it. Mum may find that addition dubious - she’s the only woman I know who doesn’t like chocolate. Real tough to please when it comes to homemade birthday cakes I tell you - but this isn’t a chocolatey stew and it’s not so strong like a Mole Poblano. I don’t think I could really taste the chocolate but I bet I would taste a real difference and have seen a big difference in colour if I hadn’t added it.

Something I discovered when making this, Green & Black’s Cook’s 72% dark chocolate is heaven. It’s even better than the dark chocolate from their regular range, in my opinion. It might be because it’s a lot richer and more bitter for cooking purposes than the eating chocolate which is totally up my alley. It was good. I might just stick to buying Cook’s chocolate from now on to satiate my dark chocolate cravings.

Just sent this in to Daily Spud’s Paddy’s Day Food Parade event too in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day on March 17th. I can’t wait to see the round-up. Yum yum Irishness.

Picture from The Malthouse

Last weekend, I was in Shrewsbury visiting a friend and by the end of my visit, it had me purring like a cat (I’ll get to why I was purring later). When it comes to visiting friends I’ve not seen for a while or going countryside, there’s only two words on my mind. And that is: pub food. Somehow my brain immediately identifies the country with - not just the calming and beautiful landscape - pub grub. It doesn’t help that I probably think about food more than sex or shoes or clothes in the day. My whole nom nom obsession is simply exacerbated.

On the Saturday, we visited the first iron made structure ever constructed - the Ironbridge. The weather wasn’t too bad in the day but by the time we’d got there after a thorough walkabout through the Victorian town Blists Hill, the sky was just miserable. It was grey, it was freezing cold, the winds were so strong it was a real challenge to walk in a straight line and the rain was all pissy and furry - the type that was so thin and fine it soaked right through to your bones I bet. You couldn’t escape this sort of rain or you could die trying, really. Thankfully we had a bit of relief from the rain when we stopped at this lovely, comforting pub for lunch. It was one that appeared most welcoming to us (also because our car was parked very conveniently in their driveway) and called The Malthouse, beckoning us with these luscious, seductive interiors.

If you’ve seen the first picture, you’ve probably already gotten a general idea of what this was like and why I say it provided us our much sought-after escape from the outside icky weather. Think lush interiors, like really lush, bordering on decadent. Velvety surroundings and a boudoir-ish ambience, Victorian style furniture with animal print or flocked upholstery and lots of red candles and carpeting. Sounds tacky and a bit cheap? On a sunny day when I’m happy, dry and well-fed I might think just that. When I’m a sodding drowned rat, shoulders aching from hunching against the wind and ankles so cold they’d literally failed the rest of my body and stiffened into ice blocks, I think this was like coming home to a warm hearth and a plate of hot food after a long trek in the woods. The Malthouse was seriously like the light at the end of the tunnel for us. And I was nearly moved to tears when they sat us down at our table, all friendly and smiley and attentive to their windswept customers who’d arrived before the dinner crowd.

Like a cat, perfectly comfy in her skin, and luxuriously stretching its limbs, I did a nice big stretch after chucking aside my wet brolly and removing my coat still icy from the wind. Then, I took another look around and I think my face just lit up and glowed from being warm and dry and sat down. I was utterly comforted by the fact that we were about to be fed. And I simply couldn’t help being appreciative of the quirky bits in this pub house like, the day’s menu written on long panels of chalkboard, pictures of hearts framed and stuck on the walls and oh, this bit I thought was so cool - black chandeliers with opaque black beads dangling very sexily from the bulbs. I know I know…that’s not to everyone taste and it’s so flashy contemporary it kind of hurts your eyeballs. But I could have just thrown myself into the interiors, sinking into it like a waterbed with a sort of post-erh-hum satisfaction, so sue me.

Smoked Salmon Baguette

If I’ve made you quite jealous of our experience, then I’ve been quite successful. If I haven’t, don’t worry I won’t try again. Instead, I’ll change my tactic and move on to Plan B. The food.

Chicken & Onion Rings Stacked Burger & Chips

S’s mum had a nice smoked salmon baguette and the rest of us ordered some hot food - dramatic pause here - some hot proper pub food. It was real nice to see the menu being separated out into starters, pub food, mains, soups, salads, desserts (I think that was how it was for the last 3). What I’m trying to stress is the separate category the humble pub fare was given and that really brought a smile to us. I think we all privately reminisced the cheap student pub food from our undergrad years (which ended only just last year) and anyway, I think everyone has a special place in their heart and stomach for the simple yet very much loved pub grub. We’ve all had good pub food, and bad pub food. Even if at that point of time it was a real torture to swallow that plate of pure grease and cheap butter, I can only say that general entity known as ‘pub food’ is always quite fondly thought of. Of course there wasn’t much to worry about here because the food was excellent!

Bangers and Mash

My food was the last to arrive. Although the last, it was definitely not the least by miles! The picture of it might explain why. It was huge! The portion of chips was generous and the battered fish about the length of my forearm. My lunch partners were a little worried and all ready to ask for doggy bag to take home the leftovers.

Fish and Chips

I think my reaction to that was a big ‘errr…there’s no need’. I ate it all. It didn’t defeat me.

Am I disgusting or just a real trooper with a bottomless pit for a stomach? The fish was fab and so fresh. And thankfully it wasn’t just all made up of batter. The chips were nicely seasoned and real yum with a good bite to it. I quite dislike mushy peas. I think the look of it and the texture just puts me off completely so I never ask for it. If it’s on my plate, I push it away as far from my chips and fish as possible (and I really ain’t that kind of fussy eater. Just mushy peas, paté and black pudding I can’t stand). I don’t know if it was the red candle induced happiness or boudoir ambience that had gone to my head, I ate mushy peas.

Yes I really did. And I liked it. I normally don’t. But this one was good. And it had whole peas in it too. Maybe that’s what made it worked. I didn’t have it all, thank goodness. But I had some. And that’s progress. The Malthouse was a real success and I take the mushy peas as proof of that.

Even though the rain had let up and we were getting sleepy from being so well-fed, we were sad to leave and drive away from Ironbridge. Good times though. Great weekend.

The Malthouse
The Wharfage
Ironbridge
Shropshire
TF8 7NH
Bar-Lounge-Rooms-Live Music
Tel.: 01952 433712