Eve Bidmead, Author at Bidmead Bites

Granada, where free food dreams really do come true

9th July 2017 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

A quick disclaimer: BidmeadBites has not ceased to eat or exist, although I’m aware the increasing length of time in between each post gives that impression. I’ve clearly been far too busy eating and cooking to actually write about it, but I correct that here with a new post on a recent trip to Granada.

Home to the almighty Alhambra palace and Spain’s Moorish past, Granada is also at the very heart of the great Spanish tradition of tapas. Renowned for its plentiful portions which come complimentary with each drink, Granada outshines any other Spanish city in the tapas stakes.

Complimentary…what, like, don’t have to pay for it? That’s correct. As someone who loves to bag a bargain, finding good food on the cheap is a real hobby of mine. Do you know what’s better than cheap? Completely free food.

Los diamantes, founded in 1942, is a cornerstone in the tapas scene of Granada, with three branches in the city centre. As you wiggle your way through the crowds and wade through the used napkins strewn around the floor, you place your drinks order and wait. Fight the urge to look at the menu, and don’t you dare even think about ordering food. The whole fun here is seeing what food your drink will bring – a fresh plate of beautiful tomatoes, coated in olive oil and sprinkled with chunky salt maybe? Or some freshly cooked prawns, practically still swimming on your plate with head, tail and eyes intact?

Tomato tapas at Los Diamantes

Once you’ve had a couple of drinks and reveled in the sheer thrill of free, random but most importantly tasty plates, you are then welcome (and encouraged) to look at a menu. Doing so, the offal lover in me rejoiced. Morcilla (the very best kind of black pudding), mollejas (sweetbreads…just good old glands) and sesos (these, my friends, are brains) jumped out at me. Black sausage was just a bit boring, while brains were slightly too hannibal-esque. The sweetbreads suited me perfectly. Ordering an enormous plate that claimed to be half a portion, I dug into these rich, creamy and smoky grilled glands.

Girl meets glands, Granada 2017

While I’m an outright offal lover, my pescatarian sister is (quite obviously) not. In order to balance of the vast quantity of animal glands on the table, we also ordered a plate of navajas – razor clams, soaked in a buttery garlic and parsley sauce. These were a happy memory of ours from family holidays to the Costa del Sol, and Granada’s version did not disappoint.

Navajas con limón

Another highly recommend tapas spot is La Taña. Owned by a sommelier, this small bar’s walls are adorned with hundreds of bottles of wine. We enjoyed a couple of glasses of red and sampled their homemade vermouth, which although sweeter than I’m used to, was just the thing to go with the little montaditos (slices of french bread with savory toppings) that came out with each drink.

Tapeando at La Taña

I highly recommend La Taña for a taste of tapas culture and great wine – a lot of tapas is based on drinking cañas (small beers, a little less than a half pint), but for when you don’t fancy beer this wine bar makes a great alternative.

Beer, wine, vermouth…what about something distinctly summery, almost so sweet it verges into the realms of alchopops? Have a tinto de verano with your tapas! This fine concoction of red wine and lemonade is just the tipple to kick off a long night of food and drink. When you order your tinto, you’ll be asked “con blanca o de limón?”. Blanca is a natural, less sweet soda, while limón refers to something more like a lemon Fanta. Go for blanca and enjoy the smoothness of this chilled beverage without a sugar overload.

We enjoyed many a tinto and a free tapas with it at Bar Casa Julio, another iconic city centre bar. Here the tapas were plentiful and filling, and my favorite was this plate of boquerones, little fried anchovy-like fish.

Quality fish tapas at Bar Casa Julio

Ordering off the menu, we opted to try berenjena frita con miel de caña (deep-fried pieces of aubergine drizzled with thick and dark sugar cane molasses). An Andalusian specialty, the contrast of the full-bodied sweetest of the molasses against the savory fried aubergine is at first an unexpected combination of flavors, but by the second slice you’re hooked.

Berenjena frita con miel de caña

Despite the fact you could quite easily spend your entire time in Granada eating like King Felipe himself without placing any food orders whatsoever, it is worth veering away from the free tapas on occasion: such as when visiting Bodegas Castañeda.

Deciding what to order here was difficult, and not just because we’d become so quickly accustomed to free food rolling out after us; everything on this menu tempts. From mixed cold plates consisting of various montaditos, or hot fried fish platters, it all sounded wonderful.

The one meal we actually paid for, lunching at Bodegas Castañeda

After much deliberation, we went for a retro classic and Bidmead family favorite – ensalada rusa, which wins awards for the least salad like salad around: potatoes, eggs, and more mayo than you can shake a stick at. Along with this we went for the house special, a cold plate with an odd-sounding but great tasting mix of oranges, salted cod, olives, tomatoes and capers. Other than this there was some refreshing gazpacho and a tuna empanada (Spanish-style pasty). Together it was a perfect pre-Alhambra lunch, giving us all the fuerza we needed to conquer the castle.

Leaving Granada, my only real regret was not having visited sooner. To think I’ve lived 25 years and spent various holidays in Spain, without making it to this magical city, where food is not only delicious but completely free…oh what a fool! But now I share this knowledge with you all in the hope you don’t waste any more time going any where else. Granada, I’ll be seeing you very soon.

Bidmeads in Bratislava – stag-dos, schnitzels and stodge

7th March 2017 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

Bratislava is a popular stag-do destination, famous for its cheap booze and party atmosphere. While the allure of strip bars and gaggles of drunk British males is debatable, bargainous beer and the attraction of an entirely new country is not. Looking for a change of scenery, Bratislava seemed like the perfect destination for a weekend away with my mum and sister.

We arrived in the city shortly after lunch and headed off in search of a menu del día, Slovak style. Following a Lonely Planet recommendation we tracked down Gastro u Jakuba in the city centre for a spot of lunch.

A little rusty on our Slovak, it was a challenge to work out what was on offer. While one woman enthusiastically shouted ‘chicken!’ while pointing at each dish, we were able to decipher the difference between pork meatballs, beef stew, sausages and roast chicken. The overall conclusion? Slovak food is big on meat, and seemingly little else.

While my mum opted for the huge pork meatball, my sister was less enthused with her veggie dish, a sort-of vegetable risotto in which the rice had condensed into one large starchy mass. Understanding that any hopes of great veggie mains where perhaps better pushed aside, she was able to eat the filling and flavorsome caraway spiced potato soup, which came included in the lunch.

Pork meatball with sauteed veg and boiled potatoes

The pork meatball was like a large chunk of meatloaf, sauteed with vegetables and served with some incomprehensibly buttery and soft potatoes. Arriving hungry and on a rainy day, this was just the kind of meal we needed to perk us up and fuel us for some sight-seeing. Gastro U Jakuba is a good stop for anyone (vegetarians, you not so much) looking for a proper local lunch, for less than the price of a pint (£3.90 for the soup and meal).

From low-cost canteen lunches to fancy five o’clock high tea, we paid a visit to Cafe Meyer, one of Bratislava’s classiest cafes. Lavishly decorated with dark wood and red and gold colors, the cakes are beautiful creations with intricate chocolate decorations and fancy fondant icing.

Cafe Meyer, Bratislava

A popular cake in Slovakia and its surroundings is the Esterházy torte; layers of nutty meringue sponge filled with a hazelnut buttercream. A proper British bake off technical challenge and super complex and fiddly to make, I would never dream of making this at home, but out in a cake shop it’s my first choice. The layers of nutty sponge added just a tiny bit of crunch to the cake, with the buttercream filling merging the whole thing together beautifully.

Esterházy cake

While Cafe Mayer earned top patisserie points, it was on a day trip to Vienna that we’d really find our cakey nirvana. Just an hour away from Bratislava by train, our first stop in the city was Cafe Central, where we would sample the height of Viennese patisserie.

Cafe Central, Vienna

Cafe central opened in 1876 and is steeped in history. The famous Viennese journalist Alfred Pogar once said “Central is not a coffeehouse like any other – it’s a philosophy”. A philosophy based on coffee and cakes? Now there’s a subject I’d like to study.

I choose a rhubarb and cream cake in which layers of flaky pastry served as construction shelves for lashings of patisserie creme streaked with rhubarb coulis. My mum chose the cheese strudel and my sister the pear cheesecake – together it was a veritable sweet creamy cheese fiesta.

Creamy cheese delight @ Cafe Central

After much sight-seeing and museum visiting, we stopped off at Naschmarkt, a food-cum-flea market where you can browse for second hand furniture and then dine on anything you fancy, from Schnitzels to salads and everything in between. There’s a clear middle eastern influence at this market, with the majority of food stalls offering up mezze style bites to nibble as you go.

Mezze madness at Naschmarkt

For a modern middle eastern meal with a twist, in a trendy spot with seats and table service, head to Neni right on the main strip of the market. The restaurant was swarming with a mix of locals and tourists with an attractive menu made up mainly of small plates to share. We ate homemade pillowy pitta bread accompanied by silky smooth hummus (some of the best I have ever eaten), marinated artichoke and muhamarra, a red pepper dip I had tried previously using an Ottolenghi recipe. Neni’s muhamarra was made with red peppers grown in their very own farm, blended up with walnuts to create a sweet, smoky and nutty dip.

Back in Brat for dinner, it felt time to try some more typically Slovak food. Following the number 2 top rated restaurant in Bratislava we chose to go to Zeleny Rodrigez, which despite sounding like some kind of Slovak-Spanish hybrid, turned out to be a very nice restaurant serving modern Slovakian meals (some of which even turned out to be vegetarian, hurrah!).

While my mum kind of copped out of the Slovakian dining and just went for the steak, I chose a typical dish – beef with sautéed paprika vegetables served in a potato pancake. I liked it; the beef had a soft texture due to its slow cooking, and although the pancake was a nice accompaniment after having been sat on top of the stew for some time it disintegrated into a sludge, which was less delicious.

Slow cooked beef with potato pancake

My sister’s vegetarian dish was essentially made of up pasta, cream and cheese; sheep’s cheese dumplings topped with a creamy dill sauce. The sweet licorice flavor of the dill complimented the salty sheep’s cheese very well, and it was this combo of sweet and savory that added depth to what could potentially have been an overly rich dish.

Cream on cheese with a lot of dill

I’ve not written about how cheap the beer was in order to swerve the conclusion that all we did was drink beer for three days, but…it really is very, very cheap. The craft beer scene is gaining popularity, with a couple of really cool breweries in the city centre.

Craft beer bar in the city centre

Bratislava is a long way from winning any culinary capital awards, but I enjoyed everything I tried during my time there. The old city centre is filled with beautiful buildings and it makes for a lovely weekend away, while the cities proximity to Vienna makes it a great base for exploring into Austria, where perhaps for a keen sight-seer there is a little more on offer. In short, as mini-breaks go, don’t come to Bratislava expecting the buzz of Berlin or museums and art galleries of New York. But do visit, enjoy the relaxed vibe all around the city, eat a lot of meat, get drunk on one pound pints and tick another country off your bucket list.

Munching in Madrid

9th January 2017 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

Smoky grilled squid, saffron spiked paella and jugs of dangerously drinkable sangria evoke very happy memories of my summers spent in Spain, mainly on the Andalusian coast where my grandparents retired.

Moving away from the coast and onto the cities capital, I’ve recently spent a lot of time in Madrid. In between working over there and visiting friends, I have eaten and drunk my way around the city, and should you be planning a trip to the Spanish capital, these are my culinary must-sees.

Tucked away in a side street in Chueca, Madrid’s go-to destination for gay culture and nightlife, you’ll find El Bierzo. Despite the constant trends entering and influencing this hip and happening area of the city, as far es El Bierzo is concerned, everything could well be frozen in the 1970s. Retro decor, old school waiters and a menu so Spanish it could be used as a dictionary reference for typical Madrileño cooking.

Big white fava beans cooked with fatty and flavorsome cuts of meat, fillets of white fish served with just a slice of lemon, right over to rich and creamy cooked innards (think kidneys and liver) in thick and boozy sauces; this is proper home-cooked comida casera. The time to visit is lunch, where a menu del día involves three courses and a beer or glass of wine for €11-13 euros, depending on your choice of main.

Artichoke and jamón entrada at El Bierzo

For my most recent trip, I started with sauteed artichokes with ham, cooked up with a portion of garlic that’d keep Dracula at bay for many centuries. I picked a tuna steak in tomato sauce for mains, and topped off this three-course delight with the ultimate classic in Spanish puddings – flan.

The artichokes were meltingly soft and thanks to the fried garlic,they held their own against the strong, salty influence of the jamón. The tuna in tomato sauce was less exciting, as the sauce element left the fish far more cooked than I normally would have liked. Still, it was perfectly passable and all was redeemed with the oh-so-old school flan, beautifully creamy with a sharp caramel sauce.

Flan, a pudding for queens

If you find yourself in Madrid on a Sunday, despite any post Saturday night hangover you may be suffering, hitting the tapas bars in La Latina is un must. A bar crawl with less booze and lots of food, this is the perfect way to sample various dishes and soak up all the different flavours Spanish cuisine has to offer.

Crab and aubergine montaditos in txirimiri

Start with a taste of Basque tapas in Txirmiri, where montaditos (little tapas on top of slices of white bread) are served to be nibbled down with a caña, the equivalent of a quarter pint of beer.

Moving onto a slightly larger dish, the pulpo a la gallega at La Perejila is not to be missed. Rather than served on a bed of thinly sliced potato as I have tried it before, here the pulpo (squid) came with a cloudy, creamy mash. I welcomed the change and enjoyed this dish immensely. The thin slices of meaty squid topped with crunchy grains of rock salt and sprinkled with warm, sweet and tangy pimentón pepper was a dream mix of textures and flavours.

Pulpo a la gallega at perejila, La Latina

Walking away from La Latina and into Las Huertas, the literary district of Madrid, we stopped off at El Diario de Las Huertas; a full to the brim Spanish tapas bar, with a sit down restaurant at the back. As we ordered some glasses of vino tinto, before even glancing the menu, a morcilla mondadito caught my eye.

Different from the English black pudding, the Spanish equivalent morcilla often contains rice and slightly richer spices, and in certain parts of the country it can be found with raisins and nuts inside too. Here at La Taberna we tried it smashed across a slice of French baguette and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

Morcilla…mi primer amor

Fearing we had perhaps not been getting our five a day (unless potato does really count as a vegetable), we also ordered some pimientos de padrón. A futile attempt to eat veg, really, as these little green peppers come deep fried and covered in rock salt – and they’re all the better for it. Supposedly every one in ten is spicy, although I’ve never come by one that bites. A great finger food to nibble on, using bread to mop up the salty oil left behind is a right of passage.

Some nice fresh greens?

As well as the La Latina taps crawl in the day, a bustling street to sample more Spanish food in the evening is Calle de la Cruz. Given that this street leads directly onto the main square of the city, the Plaza del Sol, you may well pass some downright dodgy looking tourist traps. If anyone offers you paella for dinner, run for the hills, or better still, head directly to Casa Toni, where you’ll be in for a truly traditional taps experience.

Truly traditional = guts and all. For an offal enthusiast like myself, this place is a dream – famous for their fried tripe, here in one sitting I managed to consume sweet breads, tripe and blood sausage. The tripe, albeit it slightly greasy, was actually surprisingly soft to eat, with an creamy texture and smoky flavor.

Zarajo – braided sheep’s intestines rolled on a vine branch and fried. Not for the faint-hearted

The mollejas (sweetbreads) were some of the best I’ve ever eaten, and having lived in Argentina where these are quite a delicacy, that’s saying something. The morcilla was also a great success: served in small chunks on cocktail sticks, it converted even the non-offal lovers of the group.

Compared to London, almost anywhere else in the world seems cheap, but if you want to do Madrid in a particularly thrifty fashion, I’ll let you in on a secret: you can have dinner without ordering any food. Ir de tapas is to order small plates at various different bars, however…if you can hold off ordering food upon arrival, with just a drink you might just be fed a delicious plate of tapas at no extra cost.

Not every bar will offer these, and even when they do it can be small olives, or sad bits of hardened bread and dry tortilla. Head to El Riazor though, an unassuming bar next to the Plaza Mayor, and you can sample everything from fried anchovies to their creamy paella, all for the price of a drink (a very reasonable €1.50). Go hungry, leave drunk and full, without having bought a meal. Prop yourself up at the bar and try their vermouth al grifo (on tap) or even revel in your secret desire to openly drink alchopops and go for a tinto de verano – red wine mixed with lemonade.

Rounding off all that savory with a touch of sweet, anyone visiting Madrid for the first time should make a mandatory tea break at Chocolatería San Ginés. Churros and chocolate is a traditional Spanish treat, although here I must confess: I’m not actually a huge fan. I find churros rather unexciting, as fried sweet batter just doesn’t rock my world.

Chocolate y churros

They do, however, make the perfect dipping vessel when accompanied with the thick, dark hot chocolate that comes alongside them. Whether your keen on churros themselves or not, a hot cup of cocoa such as this turns them into something really quite special.

From fried tripe to chocolate-dipped churros, Madrid is a brilliant place to sample some real comida española. Flights can be as cheap as £12 one-way with Ryanair, so if you’ve never been and fancy a trip a away I urge you to munch your way through Madrid.

Argentina, again: trecks, tripe and vino tinto

10th November 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

After spending a year in Buenos Aires as part of my undergraduate degree, I never quite managed to ditch the steak and Malbec addiction I developed in my time there. I revisited the city that stole my carnivorous heart last July and have just returned from from what is now my third trip to Argentina. I spent a week in Buenos Aires, but first visited Patagonia and its marvellous Perito Moreno glacier, as well as walking through the picturesque mountains of El Chalten.

While beef might be boss in Buenos Aires, the Patagonian plains are not as kind to cows as the lush pampas surrounding the country’s capital and interior. Replacing the beef, there are lots of little lambs…yet let’s not get sentimental thinking of a Patagonian little bow peep. Instead, I invite you to marvel at the beauty of cordero patagónico, cooked all day long over a wood burning fire.

Roast lamb on a Sunday will never be the same again

Lovely, lovely lamb

Eaten with vegetables a la parrilla and accompanied by a bottle of Malbec, I really wondered why it had taken me three trips to Argentina to reach this part of the country.

Proving not all I do when on holiday is eat, I’ll include a photo of the foot of the Fitzroy mountain, the climax of a seven hour hike to the Laguna de los Tres (it also happened to be the lunching spot of choice, but after a four hour walk, who wouldn’t want a bit of food in their belly?!).

I like my sandwiches with a view

I filled my sandwich with matambre, a thin cut of beef filled with vegetables, hard-boiled eggs and plenty of spices, all rolled up and then cooked. Making plain ham look practically vegetarian, this cold cut was my new meat fetish of the trip. My new found fancy for this cold cut continued once back in Buenos Aires, and at the Feria de Mataderos I bought myself a nice big slice of the stuff.

Matambre relleno – because yes, I want eggs in my ham

The Feria of Mataderos is a market in Buenos Aires and is a must see for any tourist in the city. Far less fancy than the fairs in Recoleta or San Telmo, Mataderos has food stalls galore with tasty regional treats such as empanadas from the north or huge helpings of locro, a corn and chorizo stew.

Tempted by the regional meals, I was unable to resist a porteño classic: a cut of vacio, meat from the flank of the cow. This is one of the few cuts I prefer to eat medium done rather then red raw; the fat crisps up and adds a caramel flavour, while the flesh itself is has a buttery quality. I’ve been told by a reliable source with reputable asador credentials that this is the real cut of the asado, much more so than a typical steak. And who am I to argue with an Argentinian man and his grill?

Vacio, you beauty

With our bellies full and thirst quenched by some light, locally brewed lager, we had a snoop around the stalls. As well as a great range of foods to munch in the moment, the fair also has a wide selection of traditional Argentine foods to take home. My eyes were drawn to the selection of fiambres, the cold cut meats. Fiambres are key in a the Argentine picada, a mixed tray of nibbles consisting of cured meats, cheese, olives and a variety of pickle-like things, often brought out before a big asado while you wait for the meat. The feria had some great picada fillers on offer, and we brought some to make our own en casa.

A picada of olives, cheese, salami, artichoke hearts, toasted bread and vermouth

Empanadas are found all over Latin America, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – the Argentinians do it best! I prefer them al horno (baked), as the majority of the Argentine ones are, given the exception of some seriously stodgy but oh-so-good fried meat varieties. Mentioned in my previous post on Buenos Aires, El Nono Amigo has some of my favourite empanadas in the city, mainly due their artichoke flavor. However on this visit, the title of top empanadas in the city could go to El Origen del Sabor, where a whopping thirty-two flavors will leave you in pasty paradise.

Greggs pasties, I’m just too good for you!

I opted for two carne al cuchillo, along with one chicken empanada and the specialty flavor ‘del bosque’– a genius combo of mozzarella and caramelised onion mixed with mushroom and red wine. Shared between two with a rocket and avocado salad, these empanadas were the perfect pasty punch to a generally balanced and healthy-ish meal.

Just as well I ate some salad in the trip, as otherwise it was a fatty fiesta that I repent not one bit. Forget the use of phrases such as ‘holiday indulgence’ – when in Argentina, eating all the red meat your body permits and drinking exclusively red wine is just common sense.

This sound logic was in full force when I visited El Pobre Luis, a typically porteño parrilla in Chinatown. The walls are adorned with various football shirts from local and national teams and the grill is in plain view for all hungry eyes to ogle and assess. For starters I ordered two of my favourite things to come off the grill; mollejas (sweetbreads) and morcilla (black sausage).

Sexy sweetbreads and phallic morcilla, mmmm!

Although a cut of offal, mollejas are no cheap off-cut; little thymus glands, these can come from either the neck or the heart, and owing to their small size they are actually quite costly. Grilled properly, it’s as if they’ve been cooked in cream – they’re that tender and juicy. My Argentinian companion complained they had too much fat, but for a girl who’s not eaten these glorious glands for over a year and a half, they seemed just perfect to me. We accompanied our mollejas with a portion of morcilla, the Argentine black pudding. Not one for the squeamish, this bloody sausage just oozes offally goodness.

The star of the show was the classic bife de chorizo, what all foreigners come in search of (well, at least I do!). Cooked medium rare, with no sauce or extra seasonings, this steak was a perfect demonstration of when simple is best. Good quality meat cooked by expert asadores = a winning combination every time.

Bife de chorizo, will you marry me?

I was reunited with my old friend tripe, or mondogo, on this trip, a dish I hadn’t eaten since Colombia. The Colombian take on tripe tends to be in a sancocho de mondogo, cooked with lentils and starch vegetables, whereas this Argentine version was far more Spanish inspired, cooked with chorizo, paprika, vegetables and potatoes. A filling lunch for less than £3, I washed my plate down with table wine and soda water. Bliss.

Perhaps not a first date dinner?

To round off I feel like I should touch upon something I ate that isn’t an animal organ. One main issue I always had with Argentine cuisine was the breakfast; or, better put, the lack of it. Many Argentinians I know are happy to start the day with just a coffee and some toastadas, toast made from crappy white bread topped with cream cheese, dulce de leche, jam, or all three. No filling and wholesome porridge, and certainly no avocado on toast.

Keep your porridge because I’m having pastries – the Argentine factura feast

While I don’t consider plain white toast for breakfast very ground-breaking, a properly baked medialuna is certainly worth getting out of bed for. Like a French croissant but with a denser, less flaky dough, these can either made sweet with manteca (butter), or savoury with grasa (fat), and are perfect accompaniment to a café con leche. Hardly a healthy option anyway, if early morning sugar rushes be your thing, you can go all-out and choose variations filled with dulce de leche, cream or jam – or again, maybe all three!

From daily beef steaks to buttery pastries filled with caramel for breakfast, it’s fair to say I didn’t leave Argentina hungry. Back in London, I’m laying off the red meat for a bit and rediscovering the joys of vegetables (but still believe I could consist on a diet of offal alone). For now, it’s goodbye Buenos Aires…hasta la proxima.

Chicken, sage & mustard bake, a quick midweek supper

4th September 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

After I satisfied last weekend’s craving for some fried chicken livers (fried in a little butter, with red onion and fresh sage), said sage was left lurking in the fridge. As is often the way with fresh herbs, it’s quite hard to get through a big bunch of the stuff before it starts to wallow and wilt away.

Determined to use all of my 90p bunch of sage, I rustled up a mid-week supper; a chicken tray bake with sage, mustard and lemon, on top of sweet potato and red onion. I posted this dinner on BidmeadBites’s Instagram and it received several likes and some recipe requests.

Ever obliging to my lovely followers, here is the recipe. I used a half chicken which I had jointed it into four pieces. If the idea of jointing a chicken is daunting, you’d do well to watch this video here (thanks to a very retro Delia Smith).

Buying and eating a whole bird is not only cheaper, but more flavoursome – this tray bake includes not just plump breast, but dark meaty thighs and wings to chow down on too. However, if you find yourself buying some pre-prepped thighs and drumsticks, that will work equally as well here.

Ingredients:
– half chicken, jointed into four parts (equivalent to three thighs and two drumsticks)
– 2 medium-size sweet potatoes
– 2 red onions
– 1 lemon
– 2 tbsp runny honey
– 2 tbsp whole grain mustard
– 4 tbsp olive oil
– Generous pinch of salt
– 2 tsp ground black pepper
– 1 tbsp Worcester sauce
– Handful of fresh sage, leaves only, leaves cut in half

Method:
1. Preheat oven to 170 degrees. Peel sweet potatoes and cut into slices about 2 cm thick. Peel and quarter the two red onions
2. Place potato and onion on the base of your baking tray, and place chicken on top.
3. In a jar, or anything you can give a good shake to, mix honey, mustard, olive oil, Worcester sauce, salt, pepper and sage (reserve 4 or 5 for the end). Squeeze in the lemon, leaving the halves somewhat intact to be halved again and nestled into the corners on the tray.
4. Pour this lovely paste over the tray, massaging it into the chicken and making sure the veg get some saucy action too.
5. Give a good grind of black pepper and an extra pinch of salt on top, sprinkling the spare sage leaves on top and add one more splash of Worcester sauce.
6. Place tray in now heated oven for 40 minutes, giving it a jig around half way through, distributing some of the sauce that will have gathered at the bottom of the tray over the top of the chicken.

I served this with boiled Italian farro, which is a grain similar to barley, and some steamed green veg. It’d go nicely with a fresh green salad too, with a nice chunky loaf of bread to soak up the sauce.

Kimchi and KFC – Korean food in Golders Green

29th August 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

Although traditionally a very orthodox Jewish area, in the past ten years Golders Green has received an influx of Korean and Polish residents, resulting in a handful of Polski skleps and two brilliantly-stocked Korean supermarkets. On of my earliest blog posts was about the ‘food scene’ (if it amounts to as much as that) in Golders Green, and now adding to the list I’m writing about the new Korean restaurant by Spicy Grill, a slice of Seoul on my doorstep.

You know it’s a good sign when you walk into a restaurant of any foreign cuisine and all its clientele are from said cuisine’s home territory. Incredibly busy even on a Monday night, we were quickly seated at one of the tables – equipped with its own built-in barbecue, of course.

Trying to work out what to order from the extensive menu, it became clear that Korean food is far more than just kimchi, although this fermented cabbage dish is everywhere. Served on the side with the big barbecues, it is also a main ingredient in Kimchi Jjigae – kimchi and tofu soup.

Kimchi Jjigae

Red hot and bubbling in temperature and bright red in colour, this arrived at our table blistering hot. I watched it simmering away while I waited the required ten minutes for it to cool to a consumable temperature. Once cool enough to actually eat, I was initially overwhelmed by the kimchi flavor – it is, after all, an enormous bowl filled with the stuff.

Seasoned with gochujang, a spicy Korean chili sauce, this soup had an addictive umami kick – just the right level to hook you in for second, third and fourth spoonfuls, despite knowing that this much fermented cabbage will surely see you off to the toilet for quite a while after. The tofu was soft, with a creamy texture which calmed and complemented the fiery kimchi nicely.

The options of meat available to barbecue ranged from plain jane beef right the way through to tongue – this offal lover’s dream. Unsuccessful in convincing my dining partner that we should try the tongue, we settled on beef bulgogi, grilled marinated strips of sirloin steak served with onions.

Beef bulgogi

I’m not altogether sure how I feel about going out to eat, to then have to cook my own food…seems like the work of lazy restaurant chefs to me. However in this instance, the manual labor on our side was spared; because we had ordered just one barbecue dish, it was cooked for us and brought to the table. Our beef came accompanied by sweet beans, more fermented cabbage, a sweet satay-like sauce and some sesame oil. We could then combine all this in a lettuce wrap, a genius way to mix all the flavors while keeping the meal light and fresh. The meat was soft and beautifully flavored, with a touch of sweet against the charcoaled meat.

Beef bulgogi wrap

In addition to our cauldron of kimchi and vast plate of beef, my friend insisted we couldn’t miss the Korean fried chicken. Different from the colonel’s Kentucky fried variety, Korean fried chicken is fried twice, leaving its skin doubly as crunchy but far less greasy. They tend to use younger chickens with more tender meat – in our case, the small chunks of chicken, even though they were boneless cuts of breast, stayed succulent and moist.

KFC – Korean fried chicken

Washed down with the extremely drinkable Hite Korean Pale Ale, this was some of the best fried chicken I’d ever tried (and I’m fairly partial to some fried birds, especially post four pints on a Saturday night). The whole meal was more than enough for the two of us, and with a beer each and service the whole meal came to £18 each. I will certainly be visiting again soon to try out more dishes on the menu, and perhaps maybe even do a bit of DIY barbecuing on the tables. I urge you all to head up to my much beloved Golders to give this place a go.

Munching in Milano – the Bidmeads do Italy

11th August 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

Keen for a weekend away, the Bidmead girls (my mum, sister and me) snapped up a deal for three nights in the style capital of Italy – Milan. It might have not have to romance of Rome, but it’s still in Italy, and that means….food!

A friend from work is from Milan, and she sent me off with an amazingly extensive list of must-dos and mainly, must eats (see her incredible list here…thanks, Giulia!). We headed to her recommend spot for the ‘best pizza in the city’ for our first dinner, a swanky cocktail and pizza bar called Dry.

Dry is distinctly different to the traditional Italian trattorias that line the streets of the city, marking itself out as a dimly lit, minimally decorated bar that serves up proper adult cocktails (not a piña colada in sight) and thin crust pizzas, beautifully topped with finely sliced cured meats, veg and fresh herbs.

Pizzas and vermouth at Dry

My sister is a veggie so we skipped the meat options, but this was no hardship. With a fresh courgette and basil pizza and a spinach, fior di latte cheese and tomato number, our pizza cravings were more than met, albeit it meatlessly. As my mum and sister sipped their classic Italian Aperol spritz’s, I went for a short, sweet red vermouth. Similar to a jäger mister, this still had a slightly medicinal note to it, but with a lighter, sweeter aftertaste.

The next day, we hit all the sights and after a morning moseying around the city, the strong midday sun beamed upon us and it was time for a pit stop. On my friend’s suggestion, we found the little side street behind the city’s impressive Duomo cathedral, on which the equally famous Milan landmark Luini is located.

Luini is a Milanese institution, serving up panzerotti; filled pockets of bread, sealed up and deep fried. A quick and cheap lunch option, I tried two panzerotti: one baked with anchovies, cheese and tomato and one deep fried, filled with spinach and ricotta.

Baked anchovy, cheese & tomato panzerotti

The baked panzerotti had a strong fishy flavour which verged on overwhelming, but was toned down by the melted cheese and tomato accompaniments inside the fresh warm bread. The fried ricotta cheese option, however, was a combination of sweet bread and savoury filling, which I didn’t like at all – if I wanted a sweet option, I would have chosen the Nutella one.

For Saturday’s dinner we headed to the traditional Italian trattoria Damn Atra’, another one of my friend’s suggestions. Located in the buzzing canalside area of Navigli, this restaurant is worlds (and decades) away from the hip, young joints that surround it, serving nothing but traditional Milanese dishes.

Saving all potential ordering doubts and distress, it seemed like the ‘done thing’ was to order the menu degustazione, a three-course meal with proper, Milanese classics. Very meat heavy, my mum and I opted for the menu, while my sister had tortellini di zucca for primi plati and a mixed vegetable and cheese grill for main.

Tortellini di zucca – pumpkin ravoli with sage

Tortelli is just another name for ravioli, and my sister’s first dish consisted of pumpkin filled pasta parcels, coated in a buttery, sage sauce. The sweetness of the pumpkin was brought out against the intense savoury taste of the sage, and the rich buttery sauce brought the flavours together perfectly.

The starter for the degustazione was mammoth; cured meats, fried bread, soft cheese dip, Russian salad, fried potato skins, crispy onions, and…nervetti.

A starter for two, or a small county

What’s nervetti, you might ask? Looking deceptively like pickles, I probed them and knew something was not quite kosher. I asked the waitress what these curious jellied little nibbles were, and with a smile on her face she replied “nervetti!”.

Upon studying them closer, I saw their resemblance to bacon lardons, made the phonetical link and asked “nerves?”. “Yes! Nerve endings“.

Suspecting a translation fault, I later looked this up – nervetti are actually gelatinous cubes of pressed calf’s foot. Not the veins, but the extremities of the animal instead. Even for an offal enthusiast such as myself, this was an animal part too far. There’s a clear reason the Italians exported pizza and pasta and jellied animal feet stayed home.

Starter over and done with, and nerves safely off the table, what landed in front of me next can only be described as a real contender for an eating challenge, of professional standard. What could be more Milanese than it’s namesake dish? Presenting, my milanesa main.

Cotoletta alla milanese, hand added for scale

Full name going as Cotoletta alla Milanese, this is a thinly sliced fillet of veal, breaded and fried. Actually hugely popular in Argentina too, I’ve tried many a milanesa in my time, and despite loving my meat, this bashed and breaded beige beast has never been my dish of choice.

This milanesa was the size of a steamrolled baby bear, breaded and fried. My mum had gone for the far more manageable mondeghili , Milanese meatballs, although with the two dishes combined we had enough food to feed a family for a week.

Like a thinner, pork filled chicken nugget, my opinion on milanesas was not swayed by this version. With no sauce, it’s extremely bland as a dish. Although the meat wasn’t dry I found myself aggressively squeezing more lemon on top in search of some extra taste. I much preferred the Milanese meatballs, which had the crunch of the breadcrumbs on the outside and the soft, herb filled mincemeat on the inside.

Milanese meatballs, the ‘lighter’ option

However, Damn-Altra was exactly what I wanted for a Saturday night in Milan. As traditional as an upmarket trattoria could come, it was a definite education in traditional Milanese food, even if the end result may be that this just isn’t my favourite kind of meal.

Having learnt I wasn’t mad for a milanesa, more room was freed for pasta and pizza – no bad thing at all. On Sunday we headed out to visit Lake Maggiore, an hour away from Milan city. We took a boat trip to visit Isola Bella, after arriving at Isola dei Pescatore – our lunch spot.

The tiny island is filled with restaurants, all serving up fresh catches of the day as well as the classic and much loved Italian dishes – please no more veal milanesa, though. We sat down at a restaurant right on the lake’s front and started our lunch with a mix of grilled vegetables served with salsa verde and burrata.

Beautiful burrata cheese and freshly grilled veg, served with salsa verde

Burrata is made from mozzarella and then filled with a curd cheese and fresh cream, and in this dish it was firm and perfectly rounded, yet under the weight of a fork the cheese oozed out its dense, dairy sustenance. Ignoring the Italian status quo and power ordering three first course primi plati dishes as mains, after our burrata we asked for mussels, spaghetti alla vongole (clam spaghetti) and linguine pescatore (seafood linguine).

Seafood spaghetti

Seafood linguine has long been a favourite of mine – it’s simple, not much more than tomato, garlic and fresh seafood. But when the seafood contingency of the dish is made up of whopper king prawns and meaty mussels, these simple flavours totally shine.

My sister had chosen the spaghetti alla vongole, which I never normally go for. Literally just a sauce of clams, garlic, white wine and olive oil, the clams were tiny yet bursting with flavour, happily swimming in their garlicy liquid. The mussels shared a similar sauce to the linguine, but in this dish it seemed slightly thicker and richer in flavour. All together this was a standout meal of the holiday, and the joy was…we still had room for dessert!

Many people associate tiramisu with overly boozy, soggy bottoms, although when properly done it can be light and soft, with subtle hints of alcohol and shavings of chocolate. Opting for this potted pick me up to round off our lunch, my mum and sister converted themselves into tiramisu fans with this rendition, which was distinctly booze-free but heavy on the chocolate, and topped with creme-brulee style shards of burnt sugar, which added a nice crunch to the whipped creamy filling.

Tiramisu on fisherman’s island

Despite such a huge lunch with a tiramisu on top, with an hour left in the lakeside town of Stresa before our train back to the city, I saw a pasticcicceria that looked like something out of a 1950’s Italian film, and just had to peak inside. Drawn into a tardis, taking me back in time, not only was I surrounded by red velvet cushioned chairs and old fashioned tablecloths, but I also found myself spoilt for Italian pastries. Torn over what to order and tempted by it all, it was the ricotta-filled, chocolate-lined shell of this cannolo which most caught my eye.

Cannolo (singular of cannolini) in Stresa

The rich ricotta cheese, sweetened and stuffed into the shell, was as light as a cloud, yet also densely rich with a texture that happily covered the whole inside of my mouth. This, mixed with the crunchy outer cone, was pure,= pastry bliss.

Getting back into Milan, after such a hard day’s work eating and drinking, it was time for an aperitivo, or pre dinner drink. Typical tipples for an aperitivo include bitter beverages, such as campari, vermouth or fernet. You could go for the all-out alcoholic negroni, a dangerous combo of gin, vermouth and campari, or opt for the more drinkable sbagliato.

A goblet of negroni? I think I will

Sbagliato means “mistaken” in Italian, and this drink supposedly originated from a busy bartender using sparkling wine instead of gin in a Negroni. The prosecco lightens the alcoholic load, and I had no problem sipping my way through a goblet of bitters.

Post potent-cocktails, we stumbled down the street and found what looked to be a classic neighbourhood pizzeria – Portabello. So old-school I’ve now realised it doesn’t even have a website, it’s down the road from Bar Basso at Via Plinio, 29.

Margherita pizza at Portabello

The pizzas came fresh, thin and crispy, with a whole host of toppings, from the classic quarto formaggio to the distinctly less traditional ham and pineapple. This margherita with basil was nibbled along with a caper and anchovy pizza, washed down with an €8 litre of red wine. If that’s not value, well I don’t know what is! The whole of this pizzeria was miles away from the fancy, cocktail and pizza joint Dry we had visited on our first night, but both served up exceptionally good food. This is perhaps my main reason for loving Italy as much as I do. Go to a fancy restaurant, and you’re sure to eat well. But find a local little place, where the food and wine is cheap as chips, and you know what? It’s also delicious! Lord praise good, Italian food.

Sad to leave what I’ve now know to be my the home of my gluttonous heart, I said ciao for now to this beautiful (and delicious) country. Italia…ti amo!

The great Christopher Bidmead on Tea

28th July 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

My dad is what some people would call eccentric. A great writer, computer brain and general know it all, he’s special in many ways. I’ve shared his gems of wisdom previously, such as this little haiku he wrote on turning 75:

On being 75 Today:

Clouding of the cornea
Can only read with spectacles
And each day getting hornier
(My toenails, not my testicles).’

Shared on Twitter, to his 4,741 followers. It’s almost (almost) like he’s famous. @chbid

In his honour, I felt it was right, on my food blog, to share his wisdom on the much-loved beverage Tea. More to the point, on tea stains, and how to avoid them. Originally sent on WhatsApp, it made me chuckle so much I thought it was only kind to share.

Dearest Evie,

In most respects you are superior to me, and that is as it should be: evolution at work. But there is one matter where my experience and wisdom far outweigh yours. I’m speaking, of course, of the question of tea-strainers.

And the closely related issue of tea stains.

Tea stains are easily removed from our white kitchen worktop by the application of “Bar Keeper’s Friend”. But it is important to bear in mind that each application of what is, after all, a powerful bleaching powder, causes incremental damage to the surface. This harsh treatment is best avoided whenever possible.

My own tactic is never to leave a loaded tea-strainer on the white surface. Upon having poured the tea through the strainer I will always immediately convey the strainer to the food bin, tipping it upside down and tapping out the contents.

It is the work of a moment then to rinse the strainer under the kitchen tap, turning it right way up and upside down under the flow of water to remove every last vestige of the tea-leaves. Knocking the handle a couple of times against the edge of the sink to shake off excess water, I can then immediately return the strainer to its place, hanging behind the (sadly currently absent) coffee machine.

This procedure can easily be accomplished within a matter of seconds, avoiding staining of the work surface and its necessary subsequent deterioration as a consequence of the application of damaging blanching agents.

I hope this advice is helpful. Evolution operates through genetic transfer, but its necessary adjunct, tribal wisdom, is conveyed through family culture. Thus we are all made stronger.

So folks…what can you learn from my father? How to write haikus on testicles, and how to avoid tea stains. Goodbye and goodnight.

My dad and his birthday lunch of choice: Spaghetti Carbonara, alla BidmeadBites

Elba Island; posh prawns and Nutella tarts

30th June 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

Leaving the romance of Rome, the next stop on my Italian tour was Elba island, where I met up with an old friend for a few days. Napolean was famously exiled to Elba, and despite it being popular among Italian tourists, the island had an air of secret about it, an undiscovered holiday gem. Crystal clear waters and sandy beaches seemed like such a contrast to the grand buildings and historical sights of Rome, and I was excited to explore.

We stayed in Capoliveri, about 30 minutes away from the main port right at the top of the islands highest peak. Winding little streets opened up onto beautiful squares, sprinkled with shops, cafes and restaurants. We rented a motorbike so could easily whizz down and around the island, and ventured into the larger area of Porto Ferraio looking for a spot of lunch.

The Italians, much like the Spanish, take lunchtime seriously, and so emerges the menu del giorno, typically a two-course lunch with wine included and a coffee as dessert (or a pud too, if your lucky). All the restaurants on the water’s front in Porto Ferraio had a lunch meal going, with everything from lasagna to lobster. We particularly fancied getting stuck into a plate of pasta and were drawn to a sweet little place with a couple of locals lunching away, where the menu offered a main dish of tagliatelle, a starter, water, wine and coffee all for €15.

Seafood starter with smoke swordfish, prawn cocktail and squid

Seafood starter with smoked swordfish, prawn cocktail and squid

Due to an embarrassing lack of Italian language skills, I was not entirely sure on what dishes to expect, but I was pleased to be greeted with a cold seafood starter for main, featuring a good old fashioned prawn cocktail, sliced squid and smoked swordfish. The stand out item on the plate was the swordfish. The strong smoked flavor on top of the thinly slice silky flesh was delightful, and something I had never eaten before.

The main was an all out winner; soft strands of tagliatelle retained their bite under the creamy seafood sauce, with chunks of white fish, mussels and prawns. The dish was topped with crushed pistachio which added a pleasant crunch against the pillowy pasta.

Seafood pasta for mains

The portion was enormous, particularly given that I was already a starter down, but the fresh seafood mingled in with the pasta, swimming in its own creamy sauce meant I couldn’t leave my plate alone, continuing to eat well past the point of being pleasantly full. But then, what’s one to do when on holiday in Italy if not eat excessive amounts of pasta while sipping a bit of wine? So I sat back, thanking my elasticated waistband for its comfort and my cup of coffee for its digestive properties while I soaked up the beauty of the port.

Cacciucco is a typical Tuscan fish stew, local to Elba island. Traditionally made with scrap bits of fish not grand enough to stand alone on a plate, this was a dish I had read about prior to my visit and was eager to try. Again, my lack of Italian lead me to a version of the dish probably quite far removed from its original humble beginnings.

Cacciucco (ish…)

My cacciucco came al vapore, and was certainly not a chuck-it-all-in fish dish; posh, proud prawns lay delicately in the wooden steamer, alongside meaty squid tentacles and a delicate fillet of cod. Not what I expected, this dish was a simplistic stripped back version of what I imagine to be a rich and multi-flavoured stew dish. Steaming the fish and seafood meant it’s flavor stood alone, and while it was undeniably delicious and some of the freshest seafood I have had, I would have rather it be accompanied by a tomato and saffron stew, as is the dish is traditionally served.

After such a light dinner, I was certain breakfast would be more substantial. L’Orchidea Pasticceria had caught my eye from the first drive up into Capoliveri, and on our last day on the island we broke our night’s fast and satisfied out sweet teeth with some of their fine pastries for brekkie.

Breakfast with a view

I normally don’t fancy a pastry for breakfast, but after my cream filled cornetto encounter in Rome, I had come to realise that perhaps Italian pastries were what I needed – for those mornings when only something sweet and buttery will start the day right.

Food wise, the Italian’s have got it pretty much spot on. Simple recipes, quality ingredients and a real appreciation for seasonal cooking. Oh, and Nutella. Sod the exquisite veal dishes, creamy carbonaras and crispy pizzas baked in wood ovens, it’s the Italian obsession with this chocolate hazelnut spread that attracts me most to their cuisine. What sweet item isn’t improved with a hearty spread or delicate dollop of Nutella? It’s never too early for this nut-chocolate delight to make an appearance; see exhibited in the photo below.

Can’t decide what pastry to choose? How about all of them?

The chocolate hazelnut tart topped with pine nuts was essentially Nutella baked on a pastry crust, and it was wonderful. How about a chocolate hazelnut croissant? Also delicious. Almost in fear of too much of this divine chocco spread, I balanced it all out (flavor wise, most certainly not nutritionally) with a custard raisin roll and some amaretti biscuits.

I’ll clarify that I was not hitting the hard liquor prior to midday, and what appears to be an espresso martini is actually just an iced americano. Far less fun, but definitely more socially acceptable.

The very gorgeous Isola de Elba

Elba island was beautiful in every sense; the scenery, the people, the food and its overall atmosphere make it one of the most special places I have ever visited. When your only complaint about a holiday is that the fish stew you anticipated came steamed instead of slow cooked, I think that’s the sign of a great trip!

Roaming around in Rome – a whirlwind food tour

18th June 2016 by Eve Bidmead Leave a Comment

Rome is a city that I’ve always wanted to visit; the romance, the history and overall Italian-ness of it all made it next on my list of city breaks. While in Colombia I lived with my very own Roman called Chiara, and after a year and a half apart I decided to pay her a visit in her hometown.

Chiara, a born and bred Romana, shares my interest in all things edible and exciting, and she took me on a food-filled tour of the city. After being welcomed to the city with a fantastic three-course meal at home, we started the next day with an amble around her local area of Tor Pignattara. Taking rest from Rome’s strong midday sun, we grabbed some lunch at Necci.

Necci, opened in 1924, was a favourite haunt of the famous Italian poet and filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini, and today serves up a menu that is focused on classic Italian recipes with a slight twist. We shared two plates, a Panzanella salad and a black rice dish with anchovies and an asparagus cream.

Posh Panzanella bread salad

The traditional Panzanella salad had undergone a modern makeover, turning up perfectly shaped and formed into a cube. Breaking into this building of bread, the soft and chewy carby bites absorbed the flavours of the vegetables and oil perfectly. The creamy ricotta was delicious in mouthfuls on its own or smeared across the deconstructed bread tower.

For the rice dish I expected a risotto-like recipe, but was pleasantly surprised with a lighter plate of al dente grains with crunchy anchovy breadcrumbs and a smooth green asparagus purée. A more flavoursome, Italian touch on the health food power bowl craze, I liked it a lot.

Black rice salad with crumbled anchovies and asparagus cream

Having practically eaten a salad for lunch (discounting the fact it was made of bread and rice), plenty of room was left for dessert. Gelato, to be more specific.

Although Rome is filled with gelaterias, finding the very best could prove a tough task for the average tourist. Luckily, my local guide took me to what she guaranteed to be some of the best the city has to offer. “But how do you know?”, I asked. Apparently it has a lot to do with the flavours. Really good ice cream parlours here will choose their flavours according to the seasons. Il Come Latte, Chiara’s gelateria of choice, not only had all the fruits of the season but many more creamy, nutty and chocolatey flavours too.

Ever eaten a cornetto ice cream cone and thought how good that little bit of chocolate is at the end? Clearly the owners at Il Come Latte have too, as they offer the option of drizzling hot melted white or dark chocolate into your cone before the ice cream is scooped in. This chocolate solidifies and becomes like a mini chocolate bar, hidden inside the wafer holding up your mound of ice cream. As well as this, they top the gelato with freshly whipped cream flavoured with vanilla, cinnamon, lemon or left plain. Oh, and then just an extra drizzle of chocolate on top too.

Ice-cream heaven has been reached

Opting for a combination of blueberry, salted caramel and hazelnut, this gelato was a thing of beauty. The three generous heaps of ice cream stacked onto of each other formed an orgy of nutty, fruity and sweet flavours with just a touch of salt. The texture was perfect – the bite and satisfaction of a quality ice cream, with a hint of the ever so moreish smoothness that the Carte D’ors and McFlurrys of the ice cream world possess.

Chiara’s love of food is clearly a family trait, as her brother is a professional chef who works at Baccano, an upmarket wine bar/restaurant in the city centre. We went to visit him to sample the drinks menu and were treated to some of the kitchens produce; mini sandwich bites with freshly baked brioche bread and hand made sausage inside. I opted for an amber spritz to drink, a sourer twist on the classic bright orange Aperol classic. Chiara enjoyed a peach Bellini – her first ever, it turned out, and it got a thorough thumbs up.

The very lovely Chiara, and our drinks and panini bites

Pizza is everywhere in Italy. But without a Dominos or Pizza Express in sight, on almost every corner you’re able to find genuine Italian pizzerias, baking in wood ovens and lacing the streets with the warm, wafting smell of thin crusts and tomato toppings. For dinner, Chiara took me to a little place called La Focaccia, where pizza options were plentiful.

You had the choice of pizza al taglio, where smaller slices are cut a larger rectangular pizza, a wafer thin larger pizza romana, or focacciotti, small individual round pizzas with puffed crusts and various toppings. Between three people, we each chose one of the smaller focacciotti pizzas; a classic margarita, one ‘alla norma‘ (with aubergine, basil and ricotta) and one with radicchio, gorgonzola and spec.

Our mini focacciotti pizzas

The charred, airy crust crumbled in my enthusiasm to tear into my mini pizza, a wonderful trio of flavours – the strong gorgonzola cheese, salty ham and tart radicchio leaves. Beer is the perfect pairing for pizza, and as I sipped a pint of freshly pulled local pale ale, I wondered why on earth I hadn’t visited Rome sooner.

Yet sadly, after just a day it was nearly time to leave to start the next leg of my Italian tour. But of course, I wasn’t going to set off without a proper breakfast in my belly. Chiara’s local neighbourhood of Torpignattara is filled with little local gems, from the freshest fruit and veg in the shop on her corner to top-notch take-out pizza and pasta joints. She took me to her favourite bakery Pasticceria Zampilli, which serves up the classic Roman breakfast: cornettos and coffee.

No, the Roman locals don’t start their day with a Wall’s ice-cream – a cornetto is a traditional Italian pastry, similar to a French croissant. They can be semplice (plain) or ripieni (filled), with popular fillings such as crema marmellata (jam) or cioccolato (Nutella). As my friend Chiara is on friendly first-name terms with the owner, we got a very special breakfast treat; a freshly baked cornetto semplice, taken into the bakery and returned with an injection of sweetened ricotta and chocolate inside.

What a way to start the day

To balance the sugar overload I choose a dark, strong espresso, but when learning I had the option to add a sweet hazelnut drizzle to it, I couldn’t refuse. This is called crema, and apparently a very popular way to sweeten coffee. As someone who never adds sugar to coffee, but absolutely passionate about hazelnuts, I think I have been converted to the sweet side.

Although the cornetto was incredibly sweet as a whole, actually the pastry itself is not, which allows for the rich filling to provide a sugar-rush to start the day. The bakery itself was filled with cakes and tarts, and I got a chance to admire the traditional roman treat of maritozzi – a cream-filled bun, that looked brilliant yet beastly.

Can anybody say cream?

Rome treated me well; beautiful buildings throughout the city, a sense of romance and fun in every area I went, fantastic company and some of the best food I’ve had in a long time mean I will most certainly return. Leaving the city though, I was headed to Pisa for a night, and then onto the Island of Elba, off the Tuscan coast. More food filled posts to come!