I think everyone in London woke up today thinking, “Cripes, it’s winter.” It was COLD, RAINY, and WINDY. Since it is, in fact, technically still summer, I refused to turn on the heat, even though my flat was freezing and my elderly arthritic cat was looking at me reproachfully. Instead, wearing a hoody over my pajamas and big ridiculous fluffy slippers, I decided to make soup. Continue reading
Although roti is one of my favourite things to eat in the whole world (it’s definitely in the top five and may be in the top three), somehow I didn’t know about Mooli’s until friend J showed me the menu online.
“This is right up my alley,” I thought. A streamlined concept – street food, specifically roti wraps – served six ways, with six proteins, open for lunch. Period. Two days later I was standing before the counter, clutching my fists, wracked with indecision. BEEF, PORK, CHICKPEA OR GOAT? Continue reading
As a general rule, I don’t go out to eat in Mayfair unless someone else is buying. This is because it is practically impossible to dine in Mayfair without basically emptying your bank account. But when a Bollywood insider suggests you go to an Indian restaurant, the sensible thing to do is immediately agree, because this particular Bollywood insider usually knows what she’s talking about. On this occasion, however, not so much.
Friend J invited me to Chor Bizarre, a venerable old Indian restaurant on Albemarle Street across from posh five star Brown’s hotel. Chor Bizarre is a successful franchise, with restaurants in Delhi and Noida. In London, it’s frequented by wealthy Indian travelers and suits striking deals. It’s a cute concept: a sly wink at a thieves’ market with tables like jewelry cases filled with found objects. But Chor Bizarre doesn’t deliver, either on concept or on food. Continue reading
Department of Coffee and Social Affairs is a bloody lovely coffee shop. It is also EXACTLY THE COFFEE SHOP I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR. Continue reading
I have been fighting off the cranky. This usually means maniacally cooking something, or several somethings, until I am no longer cranky or I am asleep. Hence this meal, conceived at five, served at eight. Continue reading
Pardon the soapbox.
White chicken stock is, in my opinion, the SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT BASIC INGREDIENT IN YOUR KITCHEN. I know white chicken stock isn’t hip. It smacks of Jewish grandmothers (in my case, Jewish mothers), 1950s casseroles, and white sauces. And people love to coo and preen about their brown chicken stock. But I think there is nothing you can get from a brown chicken stock that a veal stock can’t do better, whereas your white chicken stock unobtrusively and self-effacingly Continue reading
Lately, I have been fixated on the idea of tunnel-boning quail. For the uninitiated, this means carefully removing the bones from the bird, while leaving the meat and skin intact, so that you can then stuff it and make it look like it has all its bones. Clear? It’s actually a rather nice thing to do, Continue reading
Panna cotta is kind of like artisanal ice cream you can make at home without an ice cream maker. You can infuse it with sexy flavours. You can impress your friends, who may not realise quite how easy it is to make. DON’T TELL THEM. Why should you? A well-made panna cotta, in which the balance of sugar and cream and gelatin is struck just right, is gorgeous. Infused with exciting flavours (Turmeric! Rhubarb! Saffron!) it is a seductive bourgeois dessert. Continue reading
I feel über-glamorous! I have received my FIRST REQUEST FOR A RECIPE! Admittedly, it is from one of my oldest and dearest friends, so it’s sort of like your mom reading your blog (except my mom wouldn’t, because she is confused by the internet) and suggesting you post that recipe for matzo ball soup. (I am, in fact, going to post a recipe for matzo ball soup soon.)
Anyway, Cecillia asked for a vegetarian lentil soup. I have a wretched cold so today’s soup is hearty and packed with ginger and spice. Continue reading
In my opinion, most great cooking begins organically. (I do mean that literally as well as figuratively.) Yesterday, whilst walking down Wilton Road from Sainsbury’s back to Jess’s flat in the sparkling autumnal sunshine (it is August, people!), Jess suddenly gestured to her right towards a Turkish restaurant and said, “That place makes the most amazing tomato sauce.” And thus was born the idea to make a sweet tomato sauce to accompany our Caribbean meal. Continue reading
Susan eats London 
