I know I’m not putting up posts for my Kyoto Snaps series fast enough and hope that isn’t disappointing or frustrating anyone too much. Too many things to do too little time running around like a busy White Rabbit with a stopwatch running to and fro back and forth on unending run-on sentences. YIKES. In the meantime, here’s a post I’ve wanted to share for some time too even before I flew off to Kyoto. Talk about taking backward steps.

I was invited to brunch at Brasserie Wolf which had newly opened a weekend brunch menu since a change in their head chef. I’d never been but from the pictures of its interiors, I was going ‘yes yes yes!’ in my head. Almost baroque, decadent with plush interiors and soft lighting, dark woods brought to life with white tablecloths, glistening table setting and pneumatic powdery peach-coloured leather seats – this looked and smelt every bit of Frenchness. A splattering of casualness amidst a canvas of elegance, even the waiting staff were long-limbed and modelesque, serving food with measured steps and gestures and definitely not without an extension of some friendly banter. You were just completely swallowed into their seemingly pretentious interiors but welcomed with warm smiles and attentiveness. I really loved the leather seats, especially these that extended far larger than your body. It makes me feel like royalty. And you sorta do a little in Brasserie Wolf. Even the al fresco seats are quite lush with cushions with an almost Moroccan feel to it, facing the river and such.

On to the food, I was quite impressed. The servings were just right for ladies although if you were hungrier, you might’ve had to order more. These dishes also came after a coffee that was very flavourful. I was very pleased to have sweetened it with a brown sugar cube. You know I have a thing for sugar cubes. They are just so much more quaint!

What came first was the Croque Monsieur. I sometimes have the cheap renditions of this French deliciousness from local bakeries – yellow with heavy fat which can sometimes make me feel just a bit sick to the stomach. Or back in my college days, I never went a week without a grilled cheese sandwich made glorious in a dirty (doubt this was cleaned in years) banged up toastie-maker. So of course, the French know how to make the simplest of things the most royal and give it funky names like Croque Monsiuer oh that’s just precious! This was light, savoury, crispy and almost disappeared on your tongue, disintegrating into a melted mass of ham, emmental cheese and buttery fried bread. It went so quick, I could’ve easily swallowed another. Whole.

A croque monsieur with a fried or poached egg on the top, by the way, is quirkily known as a Croque Madame. I wonder if that had anything to do with the fertility of females. Nonetheless, Brasserie Wolf serves them too and here, they look quite pretty don’t they?

There is not a brunch that goes without Eggs Benedict or some variation, at least for me. I say eggs benedict, we eat benedict. Here, we have Eggs Royale for a change. And I do love the names of these dishes. It just makes me think of similar sounding phrases like Battle Royale and Blood Royale. I mean, that’s just cool. Right? Delicious this was, with a fantastic hollandaise garnished with shaved black truffle. Casual.

On the sweet end of things, we spooned up some Bircher Muesli into our mouths. It never seems quite worth it to order bircher muesli for brunch when you can make this stuff (sometimes tasting even better and fresher) than that you get from bistros and cafés. But something in me just needs to taste the bircher of others, kinda like a self-induced competition I’ve got going on. I quite liked Brasserie Wolf’s bircher muesli although it was a tad too sweet for my liking. Nonetheless, it was impressive and generous with their ingredients!

We also had the Brioche Toast which was lovely, thick and sweet. Although I didn’t get a photograph of the Charcuterie Platter, it is well worth a mention. I was quite addicted to it as there was lamb prosciutto, air-dried beef, chorizo (lovely!), bayonne ham and saucisson on there. Lots of flavour and so moreish and nicely alternated with salad leaves, olives and sundried tomatoes.

This was probably one of the more stylish brunches I’ve had. Although it was still a very casual weekend setting, there was just something about the food, the decor and the service that upped this a tiny bit. Kinda like a touch of gold and that will be yet another story to tell in a few posts to come.

Brasserie Wolf
80 Mohamed Sultan Road
The Pier at Robertson #01-13
Singapore 239013
Tel: 6835 7818
brasserie@esmirada.com

Christmas kind of came and went real quick this year. The big ol’ traditional feast cook-up this time round was a little more stressful. For what reason I was so frazzled I know not, but in my book, the means justifies the end. And if the end is the pudding, then whatever comes before that is allowed to go by in a blur. I’d like to think I save my best card for last and I play that card best in sweet treats rather than the savoury. Just for the record, I can whip up a mean Christmas roast and yorkshire puddings. I just take more joy in beating up eggs, butter and flour.

Cherries mean big Christmas business for me. Of course, there’s the whole medley of dried fruit soaked in rum or brandy overnight and made into the usual fruit cake shebang schmang but sometimes that all gets a bit boring. Christmas pudding is a tad bit too stodgy for my liking and my all-time favourite bread and butter pudding probably would not have gone down well either with a weight-conscious family. The current monsoon season we’re experiencing has also resulted in extreme levels of humidity. The air is so thick its almost chewable! We’re pretty much live bread and butter puddings ourselves: thick, pneumatic, sticky piles of flesh which don’t sit too well in a steamy bubble of heat. Ew (in relation to ourselves and our general appearance). Delicious (this time, I refer to bread and butter pudding), but really just too hot to handle in this heat.

Something (deceivingly) light, something flavoursome and still a sweet round-off worth your calories was what I wanted. That of course is when Nigella comes in handy (not so much her love for big knobs, oh I meant slabs, of butter). Flipping through a cookbook of hers I received from girlfriends on my 21st, the page which had a recipe sporting dark natural-coloured juicy fat sweet cherries got me at first sight. Hello, goosebumps. And so my Christmas sweet was sorted. Just like that. You’d say this was more of an afternoon teacake and yes it is, but that works since the leftovers get gobbled up for breakfast and lunch on Boxing Day.

I have swapped a few ingredients (natural-coloured glacé cherries and almond essence – they’re not well-liked by the family) and added a granola crust just to pretty up the surface of the cake. Plus, I’ve always loved that gorgeous golden brown hue, the texture and rustic feel granola can give to a loaf cake. Can’t resist a bit of granola any day! And it seems neither can the hungry fools around the Christmas dinner table.

Hope everyone had a joyous holiday season. We’re stuffed Tellytubbies at the moment with barely enough time to recover before the Lunar New Year hits us right smack between the eyes. Oh geez. Time to brace ourselves.

Cherry Almond Loaf Cake
Recipe adapted from Nigella’s How to be a Domestic Goddess
Ingredients

200g dark pitted cherries
250g self-raising flour, sifted
225g unsalted butter, softened
175g caster sugar
3 large free-range eggs
2 drops of pure vanilla extract
100g ground almonds
6 tbs milk
about 1/4 cup mixed granola, for crust (optional)

Preheat oven to 170d Celsius. Grease and flour a long loaf tin.

Drain the juice of the pitted cherries in a sieve, halve them and pat dry a little with a kitchen paper towl. Toss them in some flour and shake well to get rid of the excess.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating in between each addition. Add the vanilla, beat.

Gently fold in the flour and ground almonds. Fold in the cherries and milk. You will get a thick and heavy batter. Spoon this into the prepared loaf tin and using a rubber spatula, even out the surface. Sprinkle the granola (use your favourite brand of granola, mine’s Dorsets Cereals, or homemade granola) over the surface and gently pat down into an even layer to secure the bits of oats, nuts, etc. to bake in the cake.

Bake loaf for 45mins-1 hr or until a skewer inserted comes out clean. Mine took 1hr 5mins to cook perfectly.

When it is cooked, remove from the oven and let cook in its tin on a wire rack until completely cooled.

This time of the year, when the Christmas spirit is shining bright for everyone to see in our cities, in our homes, in our demeanor and smiles, we get out our mince pies and pass them round the table. Amidst the clinking of tea cups and teapots when girlfriends catch up and the men fuss about with carving the meats, playful banter and random storytelling fill the house like the scent of baking mince pies and mulling red wine. December is one of those months which makes one a little more pensive, a little more loving and invokes a great desire to be generous and to share.

Mince pies – an adorable tiny lil’ thing – always reminds me of this sharing spirit. A batch baked for all around the table with another rising in the oven to give away to friends or storebought for the housemates, neighbours and yours truly. They’re small, bite-sized but flavoursome and heartwarming when eaten lightly toasted. More often that not, lips and fingers are burned trying to get to the pies just out of the oven since they never stick around for long; that of course, is their one major flaw. They simply disappear too quick. A friend of mine who swears that she can bake nothing but that mysterious concoction out of a brownie mix box is actually pretty awesome with homebaked mince pies. Twice now in the past two Christmases have I had the honour of tasting her homebaked mince pies (in the comforts of her home, in front of the telly a la couch potato) which were always lightly dusted with icing sugar, made with champagne flavoured mincemeat and perfect to a T! And somehow, these were always more delicious and satisfying than the perfectly shaped, perfectly filled M&S Luxury Mince Pies.

Christmas food makes me realise how fortunate I am every year that we manage to celebrate it. When we were children, Christmas was all about setting up our plastic Christmas tree, decorating it with ribbons, bobbles, tinsel and fairy lights until the poor tree was absolutely weighted down with a heaving amount of Christmas accessories. The icing on the cake was finding the best ‘hiding spot’ within the tree to hide each others’ presents. As the years passed, our family upgraded ourselves and started faithfully purchasing imported live Christmas trees. It was wonderful. And ugh, was it expensive on our end of the globe! But Christmas time meant a mild sweet perfume of pine pervading our home and of course, that wonderful hassle of decorating it just perfectly. This year, we’ve done away with the tree with the realisation that Christmas isn’t centered around a tree. Rather, our Christmas means much to us like the Chinese Lunar New Year in which our focus lies upon the Christmas dinner, on our round dining table and in the reunion of our family. It’s the one event I never miss out on even when I’m half a world away from home. It forces me to acknowledge the fact that I have loving family members who treasure me despite my flaws, who accept everything about me and go out of the way to make sure that I am safe, happy and healthy. I count my blessings come December time, thank God for watching over me and look forward to new chapters of my life which are about to burst forth with the advent of the new year.

This year, I can definitely feel a new door opening in my life. One door has shut and although that was a terribly sad and nostalgic thing to experience, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to see where this new door leads. A new year, a new journey, new people to meet and of course, new cuisines to experience. Let’s not forget that there’ll be more kitchen disasters occurring where I’m at. Nevertheless, 2011 is for me a time to kick myself into shape in all aspects of my life. That’s good news really! Expect some changes on this blog too. I hope to get it looking a little prettier, a little neater, a little better – version 2011 2.01 EX.

Meanwhile, we’re having lots of cake in the house celebrating my sister A’s 28th birthday. We have tonnes of food all ready for a big-ass barbecue – ribs, steak, chicken kebabs, etc. I’m sure the dogs will be going insane with the smell of ribs on the grill. On the sweet side of all things straight from the oven, we’ve some oddly shaped slightly awkward little mince pies lightly dusted with icing sugar. Spicy, sweet, tart, zesty and all encased in the best bit of all – the shortcrust pastry! The size of mince pies are too inviting, almost at the ready to be popped into your mouth. But try not to knock ‘em back too quick because there is much magic in mince pies. Bite into the crust and out will ooze delicious mincemeat, and a little taste of the home, the hearth, and love. Ok, now rub away those goosebumps I know I got a little cheesy, wash ‘em back with a frothy cappuccino, a chai latte or just a simple cuppa tea. And so, I’m outta here to go guard my share.

• Looking for the recipe? Recipe can be found from My Cooking Hut here who has a store of amazing recipes!

I’ve been feeling the need to rejuvenate myself lately in every way possible. Even as I type this post, I’m listening to my favourite electro remix playlist on iTunes and am literally replaying each taste of cake in my head. It’s kind of a funky experience. Maybe future tastings of cake for me should be in a soundproof room, ALONE for maximum satisfaction, with professional headphones stuck on blaring house music as I clink clank away on plates and chomp down on petite gâteaux. No? Ok, I’ll hide that thought somewhere else along with my deepest darkest desires.

Royal Copenhagen. A proper noun that sends pleasurable shivers down my spine. And of course, makes me think of terribly feminine and beautiful vintage china. I miss the utter decadence and quirky pop eccentricism at Sketch with their vintage china unembarrassingly showing signs of use. Royal Copenhagen is a little more slick but the cakes were delicious! The service was level-headed and friendly. The room, an oblong-shaped space tucked away awkwardly into a corner of the ladies’ department nonetheless was a nice respite from manic Christmas shoppers. With a backdrop of glass-clinking and delighted chatter soft and bubbling like a glass of Möet, a room awash in crisp sunlight inducing you into a state of airy-fairy frou-frou lightness much like the kiss of a butterfly, afternoon tea begins on a carefree note (plus, you start to realize that size doesn’t matter at all – this is in reference to this oddly shaped tea lounge/cave)…

“There was an Old Person of Rheims,
Who was troubled with horrible dreams;
So, to keep him awake,
they fed him with cake,
Which amused that Old Person of Rheims.” ~ Edward Lear

The past week, my sleep was a tad bit troubled. I was (and actually am still) having a few odd dreams, those that leave you waking up puzzled and constantly mulling about what it meant. My latenights were also giving me unsightly dark eye circles, pale skin and a general lethargy about me. Someone mentioned, who cares about latenights when you’ve got cosmetics?! That’s true. I’m none too bothered about the amount of concealer I go through in a week but oh, something was just missing in my day to day goings-around. So when a friend suggested a cake day-out, I jumped at the chance. I was so glad to go to tea! It felt like ages since I had a good tête-à-tête with those things magically made from flour, fat, eggs, sugar and cream. Ahhh…What better to make one feel a little more alive than the sugar high petite little cakes provide?!

If I could, I would’ve eaten my weight in everything sat behind the cake counter. That’s me talking some crazy I know. Although it sure is hard to be sensible when one has a severe case of sweet teeth (plural or singular?). Imagine if one fine day all cake maniacs were to let themselves go and you saw me right at the frontline of this lets-eat-all-the-cake-in-the-world campaign, I’d make the tabloids in the most disgusting way known to humankind.

We managed four cake slices on our visit to Royal Copenhagen. I thought that was pretty impressive. Each mouthful was slowly savoured but not without wishing that each taste could go on forever. I’m blushing now as I’ve just realised my own greediness – 2 out of 4 cakes were chosen because I insisted I must have matcha cakes or something that’s green. I’m glad my cakemates humoured me. Bless ‘em. Here’s what we had:

Key Lime Pie ~ creamy and melt-in-your-mouth

Chocolate Earl Grey Mousse with Caramel Ganache ~ rich. dirty rich.

Matcha & Morello Cherry Cake ~ this was simply beautiful; gorgeous flavours with a moist denseness from possibly ground almonds & polenta

a personal favourite whatever the rendition ~ Matcha Tiramisu

The last two were of course my favourite. I’m drawn to anything green, purple and black sesame flavoured. I’m fairly simplistic that way I suppose. The key lime tart was also something real jazzy, resulting in a party in my tummy. Delicious, smooth with a good mix of sweet and tart.

Once the final crumb was licked up, I felt like an old car with a fresh engine, purring away and all revved up for the next roadtrip. All I had to do really was give my heels a quick polish, pop on some pearls and off I go. If you hear me complain about tiredness this week, remind me that it’s time for cake! It sure is the best fuel to keep me going for a while.

Royal Copenhagen Tea Lounge
Takashimaya Level 2
391 Orchard Road
S 238872
Singapore
Open Mon-Sun 10:00-21:00

The last couple of days in London I spent café hopping. Absolutely love the cosy ambience of cafés, the smell of brewing coffee, the tins of imported tea leaves, the displays of fresh cakes and breads; and strangely, even folded paper napkins, sugar cubes and little milk jugs are a comforting sight to behold. But that’s just the outer layer of the lure of cafés. It’s the fact that time stands still. That everything beyond its walls (if it’s got any) ceases to encroach upon your space and your mind for a while. When you step into the dim interiors of one, with that soft lounge or jazz music playing, you shed the dusty coats of worry at the door. You enter a time capsule where you can be perfectly still or perfectly alone. With a book, with a hot cuppa, with something to eat, you are at ease and calm. I like that. Or maybe I’m just lazy and overly indulgent.

Bea’s of Bloomsbury
It was early morning. I had egg cravings. This was beaute. Buttery & creamy. Also, there’s a shelf of books, magazines, newspapers and flyers by the stairs. A cookbook on rustic fruit puddings kept me busy during my wait for food.

a smooth cappuccino and a curried egg & celery toasted muffin

Stopping by to admire Ladurée
The Burlington Arcade is quite a magical place. Placing Ladurée at its entrance is like icing on a cake. Stunning to look at and so enchanting, like a unicorn, you can almost not believe that it’s there. If everything were so pretty and gold-embossed!

Tapped & Packed
Dropped in to meet (finally) the groovy Supercharz. She was funny and so friendly, I almost forgot how good my coffee tasted.

love having all my stuff go ‘plonk’ on café tables

a final refresher – mint tea

Just before I left, a bespectacled dude joined me at my table. He flipped out a shiny macbook and ordered a cappuccino. Eyes trained on his laptop screen the whole time, he proceeded to dunk 5 heaping teaspoons of brown sugar into his little cuppa coffee. Stirring done, lick foamed milk off spoon, sip. Eyes still on laptop screen. I wasn’t sure if that was an artful and coordinated demonstration of a coffee-trained hand vs. attention distracted by laptop or a scene which made me feel a little too sickly sweet in my mouth.

The English weather can be described here in one word, or rather one sound – a big fat SIGH.

My Monday blues can be summed up in one word, or also one sound – a big fat SIGH.

But both can be resolved with a brunch date, with a gorgeous friend of mine (and fellow Ferragamo fiend) to boot? Sorted.

So here we shared a lovely pot of coffee, sweetening it with shiny crystals of brown sugar straight from a recycled black treacle tin, stirring then sipping them nice and slow despite the gathering grey clouds. What I love about Albion Cafe, Bakery and Food Store is definitely the fact that you can sit outside on the tables and red chairs lining the street. It faces some quaint little shops on the peaceful and rather dignified Boundary Street. During the summer, it is simply wonderful to sit out in the sun on their glossy red coffee shop chairs next to wooden crates of fresh cauliflower, cabbages, etc. A great spot to leisurely have brunch whilst people-watching fellow East Londoners drifting through from Shoreditch High Street or Brick Lane. And remember my post on Fried Eggs & Sage? Yep, you’ll find Albion just turning the corner from the infamous Leila’s Shop.

Portobello Mushrooms on Toast

Mushroom Omelette

My lunch mate and I both ordered mushrooms. I admit it isn’t in the least bit exciting especially when the menu offers so much more, like great British caff food and even some pub classics (crackling & apple sauce, duck eggs on toast, bangers & mash, etc). It was very tempting I’ll tell you that though. Their drinks menu is extensive and impressive, especially the elderflower cooler which is a must-try IMHO. Anyhow, P and I are mushroom fanatics. And we strangely have similar cravings at the same time. Can’t understand that? Me neither. We’re as similar as night…and later that night (quoted from Monica of Friends, guilty as charged). We both have unhealthy obsessions with Ferragamos, long brown hair of nearly the same shade, even ugly spots in the exact same places on our faces come that funny time of the month, share a passionate love for red Chanel lipsticks and full-fat salted butter. And we both love to brunch! A friendship made to last.

Our gorgeous and friendly hunk of a waiter came with hot coffee pronto. Lunch followed fairly swiftly. My portobello mushrooms were very flavourful and juicy on brown toast, generously drizzled with olive oil and garnished with chopped parsley. P’s omelette was at least an inch thick and uber creamy, which she ate with brown toast and oodles of butter. Albion boasts quality ingredients and straightforward food. It is exactly that and more – soul-warming food, the type that makes you forget your daily worries, the wintry chills of autumn and the impending ugly of rain clouds.

It started raining in a bit. Grey, wet, nippy and generally miserable with a capital M. Felt a bit like wet dogs getting rained on en route to Brick Lane where P lives. But shortly before that, we had had some awesome food action. And so we were still happy and pretty mushroom-smug, no doubt about that. When you’ve got good food in your belly, it’s nearly impossible to be grumpy. Don’t you agree?

Albion Cafe, Bakery and Food Store
2-4 Boundary Street
Shoreditch
London
E2 7DD
• http://www.albioncaff.co.uk •

The past month I’ve not only been busy but I’ve been considering the future of this blog. Should I give it a major facelift, should I redesign and reconceptualize everything seeing as this was really a brainchild of a teenager, should I scrap it completely or should I leave it to age in a corner with only some good photographs to keep for memory’s sake? I’m not sure yet where that’ll take me but once the decision is out, I’d be sure to post back here and let you all know. I’m at the crossroads.

One half of the hungry crew

Anyhows, last weekend Mowie organised a dinner for us hungry ghosts, including Suyin, Panu and Bruce, at Catty’s recommendation. I’d been told the ordering here was high-tech, you could play with your tables (literally) and the food was impressive. I mean, this is heaven’s playground for food geeks! The food was lush, the music being played in the restaurant groovy and chic, and the ambiance completely otherworldly. And as a first-timer to Inamo, you could be sure that I was reduced to a wide-eyed child, going back to basics to my 5 senses to explore the wonders of the world – Inamo’s world. I was utterly and completely in awe of anything that moved, on my table, that is.

The world is your oyster. The table is your iPad, or menu. Ie. You touch your table. There’s a little circular touchpad on the bottom right for you to maneuver through the menu of starters, main dishes, side dishes and dessert, drinks menu or other fun things like a map of the surrounding area, games, spy camera that stalks the chefs in the kitchen. Be careful not to get carried away with changing the ‘ambiance’ or settings of your table, or desktop (now I’m getting confused with restaurant dining or computer speak). Yes I kid you not, you can change the background of your table: send it to outerspace, to the rocky deserts or lotus gardens. Mad! Can’t decide? Your table’s got the ‘random shuffle’ function too. Some of the images are a bit neon or psychedelic but I suppose having your face lit up a ghostly cyan can be pretty fun whilst you chomp down on a Thai Green Curry or sumfin. Some people are into that.

It’s trippy and really fun. Only problem is that you might get way too engrossed with the damn table and forget you’re actually dining with others. You can play Battleship with your dining mate across the table, however. So that’s got my thumbs up. Although I’m shit at Battleship and got called a coward by Bruce for backing out in less than a second.

You know menus without pictures really put people off? And then there are those menus with ridiculous out-of-this-world very deceptive pictures that look nothing like the real deal when it gets dished out from the kitchen? Inamo shows you the image of your meal, when you hover over the option via your touchpad, and screens it onto the round plate-looking placemat set in front of you. So, it looks real, it looks like its there. It’s virtual menu. It’s virtual dining. OMG it makes me want to eat the table.

Well enough said. Here’s some of the food we ate. The dessert’s the pretty part and very impressive from what I tasted!

Truffle Marbled Beef

Black Cod with Spicy Miso

Berkshire Pork Neck with Apple Confit & Chocolate Sauce

Pandan Macaron, Yuzu White Chocolate Mousse with Lemongrass & Coconut Sorbet & Milk Chocolate Sauce

Vanilla Crème Brûlée

I would have taken more pics but the table’s a straight rectangle so getting across to the other side isn’t quite that easy. And with all the distractions offered from my table, why on earth would I be hanging on to the camera?! The meal was truly enjoyable and this futuristic way of dining a great experience. I would definitely go back here again and ban myself from the ‘games’ section.

Oh. And one more thing, if you’re a compulsive online shopper who loves sending truckloads of goodies into your online shopping basket with one click, practice restraint at Inamo. It’s easy to get carried away and click ‘ORDER’.

inamo restaurant
134-136 Wardour Street
Soho
London W1F 8ZP
Tel. for reservations: 020 7851 7051

I was in Oxfordshire since last weekend soaking up some good ol’ countryside. If the weather had been a little less harsh and a little more forgiving, I think I’d have more pictures to share. Frankly speaking, however, I was just a tad bit lazy. Knowing this was probably the only ‘break’ or ‘holiday’ I was gonna get for about another 2 months, I wanted to be as lazy as I could and to enjoy myself thoroughly without having to frustrate physical movement with camera-slung-around-neck or camera-held-tight-in-both-hands. Getting away from any sort of technology was very refreshing as well. I admit I was still visibly active on Twitter but my Blackberry got minimal usage. The beloved laptop was left back home in London, the iPod got squished into a corner of my bag very often saved for used sweet wrappers and crushed receipts hardly given a second thought. And believe it or not, I barely touched my camera. It was food shoveled into mouth (or if it was busy chomping, it was engaged in very precious conversation with H) before the clicking of shutters. It may not have been the vacation of a lifetime but the sense of peace and zen, and the joy I had in reuniting with a friend who’s practically my soulmate would’ve beaten any holiday package hands down.

In the span of 5 days, we covered much ground. We (or rather I) woke up to beautiful breakfast spreads, coffee-ed at our much loved Morton’s and lunched at Maison Blanc where I missed the man himself by literally 30 minutes! The awesome thing was that H got speak to the man in all his glorious French-accented English. H’s mum got his book autographed. And wait for it, our dear Raymond Blanc even gave her an emergency number to ring lest she needed his help in the kitchen! Now if only I’d booked the earlier train, I might’ve had the chance to witness this most delightful affair.

I didn’t mope about for long as the fresh breads and grassy flavoured olive oil dip at Quod wiped my brain of any other thoughts. Mind became blank, and mouth awash with drool. A bit like a blank canvas ready for painting, I was starving and eager to begin my meal. Two glasses of crisp white and a spankingly good duck confit with this scrumptious orange-laced sauce.

You might already know we did some Easter baking. H has two ovens. I have zero at the moment. Or rather, I’ve one but it’s half a world away and I have no hopes of turning this microwave/grill crap that’s lodged into my kitchen wall into something fairly able to churn out cakes and cookies. If you’re presented with the opportunity, pounce on it. And so I did. But a holiday’s all about being decadent. Decadent to the point where you’re not even making the effort. So of course we ate more sweet treats and had tea. And whereabouts? At Blenheim Palace. Yes, where Winston Churchill was born. And where the house (as it used to be called, rather than ‘palace’) was later refurnished in the style of Versailles.

If you’re wondering, no we didn’t have afternoon tea at The Orangery or The Indian Room. The Water Terrace Café, a self-service cosy little one, was good enough for us. And when I say good, I really mean good. Cakes, scones, biscuits all homemade and generously portioned; tasting like bits of heaven and not factory-produced blocks of sugar and shortening. Really helps that the hot drinks are served in large cups (with a saucer) so you feel like you get your money’s worth and enough hot liquid to warm up your soul and fight that bone-chilling damp cold. No kidding. The weather that day was so awful. It did not help that I was wearing ankle cut offs and low-riding little loafers. Where was my performance gear when I needed it!

Nevertheless, Blenheim Palace was enjoyable and this little jewel of a café was like spotting a glowing hearth of a little cottage deep in a cold, dark, unforgiving forest. I can totally say I ate well, rested well and indulged up to Easter weekend. I’m back in the big smoke fighting the tube crowds, uneven cobblestone and sordid transport prices, with only M&S speckled eggs to keep my poor heart settled and at peace.

Happy Easter Sunday everyone.

Blenheim Palace
Woodstock
Oxfordshire
England
OX20 1PP

I met someone last Sunday who might sincerely believe she was stamped [ROYALTY] on her backside when she was born. Not a great way to start this most elegant, gorgeous and wonderful blog post but it’s gotta be done.

Some women think they’re princesses. I mean there’s nothing wrong with getting the princess treatment, to be pampered like a princess (each to their own I suppose) if that existence wasn’t one that bothered humble, noble plebians like us. Fair enough, I suppose princesses do still exist in this day and age but that’s no reason for me to sit about content that I’m acting like someone’s slave. If you want a personal slave, hire one or go invent an android. Anything. Just get off your bum and do something remotely productive.

In the world of retail (and let’s be more specific and narrow that down to fashion retail), employer-employee-customer relations can be damn tricky. And when customers are the weirdest, rudest and unappreciative, it’s hard to restrain ourselves from saying something like: ‘What? Are you dumb?’ or when you’ve really reached your limit with these little kids trying on clothes that barely cover their arses and are determined on turning the fitting rooms into a jungle, ‘Oi kids, get out. And never come back’. And then when it comes to shoplifters, ah don’t even get me started on that one. I get red and angry as a beetroot. At the end of the day, after the frustrations gradually melt away in the steam from a hot cuppa tea, I suppose it’s still something to learn from, to muse and quite often to laugh about (after about 3 paragraphs of passionate bitching). I was planning on telling the story of Princess A and her Eyebag Boyfriend. It got really good typing it away and therefore, forgetting the more urgent issue of my research proposal but the whole story sorta turned into a sarcasm-dripping, black humour infused bitch fest. So I cut that out completely.

Couldn’t let that ruin your visual appetite for these lovely sweets from Sketch – The Parlour, now could I? I’d be a horrible foodie to do that to you. And if you really were itching for a good story (or bitch), you know you’ll definitely need to join us Tea Ladies for our next meet-up. Suyin‘s got some good ones from work too and Mowie‘s so calm and lovely, he’ll sort out your ruffled nerves instantly with that good humour of his. If all this mean gossip talk’s put you off, can I say once that’s over and done with, we really do immerse ourselves in delicate, ladylike chatter too?

So. There are princesses. And then, there are princesses. At Sketch, you are made to feel just a little bit like one. Step in and you’re instant cake royalty – the good kind. Lush interiors, Victorian furniture, big windows and floor-skimming curtains, rich upholstery and carpeting, dim lights and decadent atmosphere spliced with quirky pop art and caricature posters and skull lamp-shades. Sketch is an eclectic mix of things classic, vintage, grunge and of pop culture. Once you’re sat at a table (if you get one, guard your fortress like I did as tables are hard to come by. I saw Suyin go walking by through the window a little lost but nope, stayed and stubbornly guarded my table instead of going out to welcome her. I’m that bad a friend but that loyal a cake fan), you’ll see all the menus of the day printed in elegant calligraphic script slipped into the pages of a frayed old hardcover book (mine was Chemistry right smack in the formulas of CH3 COOH or something like that). Instantly feeling like Alice in a strange and exotic wonderland, you’ll be impressed with the huge variety of drinks, cocktails, mocktails, appetizers, teas and sweets to accompany it. You’re almost convinced you’re eating with vintage silver cutlery too!

And I positively felt a bit like Marie Antoinette at certain moments too. Decadently surrounded by lavish furniture and crazily beautiful pastry, waited on my beautiful wait-staff dressed in flocked floral and ruffly uniforms. It’s like simply the thing of dreams!

Of course, us Tea Ladies with a sweet-tooth bigger than the universe when put together went straight to the Signature Cakes menu. We were in heaven. There was nothing we could fault. Each cake and pastry was perfectly made, perfectly served and dreamy to taste. The little descriptions on the menu helped us deconstruct and draw out the tastes of each bite on our tongues, making it last as long as possible. I licked my fork quite a few times to get every bit of pastry cream. I was quite unembarrassed to do that actually. Sketch’s pastry chef got everything right and it was hard to say which one was the best or favourite. Every one was great in their own way. I gotta admit I was thoroughly impressed with the pastry cream though and the moistness of the pannacotta encased within the tart base and a white chocolate top layer.

Pannacotta Tartlet – tonka bean macaron, Medjool dates, fresh and preserved grapefruit

Pâte à Choux – pâte à choux, lemon pastry cream, mango and passion fruit jelly, vanilla and almond whipped cream

The next was blackcurrant heaven. Can’t wait to eat this one again as it was very refreshing and the dark purple shade was extreme food porn for me! The same shade as my bedding actually. The blackcurrant marmalade…one word: exquisite.

Cardinal – blackcurrant macaron, blackcurrant marmalade and violet mousseline cream, garnished with a blueberry and sugared petal

And the last but not the least at all…one to make the Maya gods proud.

Café Guanaja – hazelnut and praline, Guanaja chocolate cream, sacher biscuit, coffee and sabayon chocolate cream

This quirky, edgy, cool and extremely stylish place is one to visit again and again, whether it’s the Parlour, the Michelin star dining room aka The Lecture Room & Library or the evening bar The Glade or the art gallery which turns into a gastro-brasserie by night aka The Gallery. Hmm…pardon me saying so, but even hanging out in the toilets and the experience en route to the ladies was quite glorious. Don’t believe me? Check it out. Fancy lights, jewel-studded flush buttons and giant jewel handles. You can’t get as cool as that.