blue door thinking

Supperclubs are ten a penny these days - springing up all over the capital and further afield, it can be quite a mind boggling task sorting the wheat from the chaff. Whole websites and forums are now dedicated to the discovery of the next host with the most or fusion chef with 'personality' (read: ego), often wanting to peddle their less than amazing wares for an overinflated price, whilst quaffing your more than decent BYOB. It's a real balancing act finding a good venue, with good food, at a good price and with good people - and with the average price of a supperclub spot at around the £35-£40 mark (sans booze) I've tended to err on the side of caution rather than fork out just to be disappointed.

With this in mind, it was with slight trepidation that I booked a spot for myself and a friend at The Pale Blue Door, a Dalston based supperclub situated at set designer Tony Hornecker's gaff. I had been meaning to pay TPBD a visit for a year or so, and the time finally felt ripe for a slice of local dining with a difference. Would it come up trumps? A brief googlewhack revealed some past happy customers, and without digging too deep for fear of spoiling any surprises, we signed ourselves up for supper.

The night began with pre dinner cocktails at one of my favourite Shoreditch spots, on Great Eastern St, the gloriously girly and kitsch boudoir bar Ninety Eight. Spirited away down a spiral staircase, it's a blink and you'll miss it Parisian drinking den, which I only spotted one night by chance as I caught sight of some candles glimmering up through the gloom underfoot. Awash with fur, sparkles, quirky portraits and objets, this place is a real visual feast (and the cocktails aren't bad either). We plumped for green tea cheesecake in a jamjar affair, and a strawberry and coffee bean extravaganza - both full of flavour, unique and not badly priced. This spot is really one for the girls, but if you fancy being thoroughly emasculated then step inside, I am sure you'll just love it mon cher.

 

 

 

 

Cocktails quaffed it was time to head to deepest darkest Dalston (well, near Middleton Road) and find the elusive pale blue door...

Yep that's it. Tucked down a long alleyway of warehouse spaces, a ramshackle sort of workshop, with a decrepit looking campervan parked out front and a load of old tyres and a soiled dressing gown hanging from the rafters. YUM! Not to be defeated, we pushed on through to walk into an Aladdin's cave of well worn theatre props and warm candelight. Phew - things were looking up. Shown to our table for two (a godsend for those who like suppeclubs but don't like the idea of getting stuck between two oddballs for the duration) we ignored the slightly musty aroma and had a good ogle at all the weird shit. I turned round to come face to face with a mannequin in a sequinned Smurf's hat and had to throw my jacket over it's head but apart from that all was good.

Rowena a table

Hornecker's home is a real eyeful - he has built up quite a collection of costumes, masks, stuffed things and theatrical paraphernalia over the years. Everything is a bit ragged round the edges - we touched the mismatched cutlery and dogeared napkins gingerly, but it all adds to the edge and the feeling that this is really someone's lived in abode. The precarious stairs (made of chairs) up to his sleeping quarters were thankfully off limits, with a sign reading 'NO ENTRY - DEAD DOG'. Nice.

the stairway to hell

After about twenty-five people were seated, a weird crackly record began to play and a Latino love god(ess) came stomping through to welcome us all in a chicken outfit. Random. Introduced to our host for the evening, glamourous drag queen A Man To Pet, we were treated to a fresh ceviche vegetable starter and some decent red wine. Hornecker himself didn't show up, but we were regaled with a song and a dance from this dudette between each course, getting more and more dramatic and outlandish as the night progressed. The main was a fairly good lamb stuffed with ricotta accompanied with quinoa and dessert was a fresh berry Eton mess. Portions were adequate (just) and the food was simply done, but the atmosphere was fun, warm and friendly and if you haven't seen a drag queen in a gold leotard, cape and a bird's mask getting hoisted to the ceiling on a pulley while flapping away to a Seventies soundtrack then quite frankly where have you been hiding?

By the end of the night, everybody was up on their feet and dancing, as A Man To Pet whirled around in a mankini and six boobs (don't ask).

At £40 for a three course meal, half a bottle of vino each and fun frolics from a class (drag) act you can't really go wrong with The Pale Blue Door for some midweek merriment. Just give your hands a good scrub when you leave.



spanortuguese sunday

Wow, it's been nearly 365 days since I last blogged.
Let's gloss over how scary that is, tempus fugit etc. and instead concentrate on whatever could have been so inspiring as to take me away from my uber busy life and put fingers to keys and talk about FOOD once more.
A sunny bank holiday lunch full of delicious Spanish paella and Portuguese pasteis that's what.
A visit to a village to see some good friends of ours (Spanish Valencians no less) was the perfect moment to finally perfect my paella making skills. For too long now I have blundered about with risotto rice (shock!) and chorizo (horror!) making some sort of weird hybrid version of the devil's paella when in fact, I should just have been listening to it talk to me all along... Let me elaborate.

Angel showed me how to make a traditional chicken paella from scratch, using his special big cast iron paella pan and a massive gas canister - not for the faint hearted. He started by frying a whole chicken cut into pieces in olive oil, and then added some paprika and a tin of chopped tomatoes. (Usually rabbit is added for depth of flavour but the meat is pretty hard to find in the UK - plus mum doesn't like eating bunnies). Broad beans cut into pieces and butter beans which had been soaked overnight completed the base of the paella. Super simple - no fresh tomatoes, no onion and garlic base, no mushrooms, NO CHORIZO! This is a huge faux pas - never add chorizo to paella as the flavour tends to dominate everything else in the dish. Pour in 3 litres of water, add some saffron and salt crushed together with a pestle and mortar and simmer for 45 mins.

In the meantime while you wait for the paella to turn from a liquidy soup into a thick hearty broth, why not drink an icy beer in the garden, nibble on some jamon, manchego and olives, or maybe try some of a freshly baked hojaldre (pastry) filled with cheese, bacon and dates. The dates complement the savouryness like caramelised onion chutney works with a sharp cheddar, and the flaky pastry wraps it all up beautifully. It is a bank holiday weekend after all. 

Back to the paella pot, and its time to add in some medium short grain rice. Risotto rice is just too sticky - you need something firm enough to soak up all the liquid while still staying loose in the dish. Once the rice is added, mix well and LEAVE WELL ALONE for another 20 mins. Another paella myth (and one I was perpetuating) is that, like a risotto, you need to stir like a wild thing constantly until the thing's cooked. No! Just leave the rice to soak up all the liquid and use the heat to speed up or slow the process by turning up or down. No spoon action needed.

Only a true paella pro like Angel would know when the dish is ready to be served - no digging in with fingers, testing grains of rice etc. The trick is to listen. You can hear the sound of the paella change, from a more liquid bubbling to a gentle snap and crackle of the edges of the rice crisping and frying. This means the paella is done and dusted, and after resting it for 5 minutes, it's ready to serve in all it's glory with a few slices of charred fried red peppers on top and a chilled glass of white wine on the side. Mmmm mmm mmm.

Spanish sundays, all the S's, as a palette cleanser before I took over the reins on dessert, we had some divine strawberry specials, super light and dreamy, made with whipped egg whites, and pureed strawbs with icing sugar. Best described as little clouds of summer and could definitely be recipe riffed by adding pureed mango or other fruits instead of strawberries.

My turn to teach, as for pudding I cracked on with pastel de nata (Portuguese custard tarts), eyecatching buttercup yellow wibbly wobbly centres. Boil 250g golden caster sugar (don't use brown sugar as it will turn your custard muddy in colour) in 125ml water, with two cinnamon sticks and two lemon slices for around ten minutes so the flavours infuse nicely. In a separate pot, whisk 30g plain flour with 20g cornflour and a few drops of vanilla essence, with a dash of milk to make a sticky paste (think glue).
To this, keep whisking in 250ml of cold milk until you have a thick mixture. The key is to add very small amounts in slowly so no lumps occur. Add in the sugary water (with the slices and sticks removed obvi) and 3 beaten egg yolks plus one whole egg. Stir away until you get a gorgeous unctuous yummy custard.

Using a deep muffin tray, grease the tins and cut out puff pastry rounds. Pretty Rosario in her flamenco apron, did a sterling job of holding the tray still while we filled the pastry cases with the nata and then popped in the oven for 20 mins at 220C. Lovely tarts for all, crisp flaky buttery casing deep filled with a full flavoured custard - extra delicious cold the next day too. Dust with cinnamon or nutmeg for an extra flavour hit. I also want to experiment with a dollop of caramel or chocolate in the bottom of each tart with a heart... watch this espacio.

rocky razz

As mentioned in previous blog posts, I can be a very indecisive (read: greedy) eater. Given the option, I would rather have a little bit of everything. It's the reason why I love mezze and tapas, or even better, a long tasting menu... Certain foods done simply and well are sublime. But a real filthy blow out hits the spot - cram in as many goodies as you can, and get all your favourites in one sitting. Rocky road is a shining example of a sweet treat that packs a punch, and is stupidly simple to make. Nothing refined about it. It's all your top tings smashed up and mixed together with lashings of chocolate.

My preferred ingredients are crushed digestive and ginger nut biscuits, glace cherries, Maltesers and mini pink and white marshmallows, but you can stick in anything you like. Try dried fruits like cranberries, apples and raisins. Hazelnuts, chunks of brazil, amaretti biscuits, rice krispies and bits of Twix also work really well. Add a splosh of liqueur and a dusting of icing sugar on top, maybe even a few of those geeky silver balls, to make a Christmas version...also makes a beaut Xmas present when arranged in a festive tin. It really looks lovely, with a crazy paving effect, when sliced up into squares, and I tend to indulge my girly side with a trademark sprinkling of edible glitter on top. Every bite guarantees you something delicious and it seems to go down a hit every time with friends and fam.

The best part is how easy it is to put together. Simply melt 100g of dark chocolate with 100g of milk (Belgian quality is best), add 100g of melted butter and 3 tbsps of golden syrup.

the melty bit

Chop up your fruit, nuts and other shizzle into pieces of varying sizes. Keep some things whole, for example your cherries or your Maltesers. Put your biscuits in a freezer bag and bash them into bits between 50p chunks and dust. Add everything to the melty mix. You want to add enough extras so the chocolate is just binding everything together nicely. The more chocolate to bits ratio, the stodgier and heavier it is. I prefer it lighter as it looks prettier and tastes better.

chezzas & 'tesers

les biscuits

mallows

Once your rocky razzle mix is ready, simply line your average baking tray with clingfilm and pour the mixture on top. Smooth down the top and refridgerate overnight. Next day, cut into bitesize squares and eat. Nothing could be simpler! Helpful hint - take it into work to score extra brownie points...

the finished product

Comment or Tweet me if you have any amazing no cook, fridge cake recipes...
I'll leave you with this classic moment from the Goonies: