Butter

Dabbous, Part Deux

Remember when I visited the newly opened Dabbous way back in March? Well, straight after visiting I successfully rebooked for June and soon found out that there are now no more tables until February 2013. So I'm sitting here feeling slightly smug...

The meal was amazing, as expected, and as good as it was the first time around.

I just had to share this dessert with you:

Apologies for the blurry image. My hands were obviously shaking with excitement at the prospect of chocolate and virgin hazelnut oil ganache, basil moss and sheeps’ milk ice-cream.

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Roland Garros

So, Day Two of my trip to Paris and Day Two of Roland Garros. Tickets were secured for the Philippe Chatrier court, but who were we going to watch? Annoyingly Roland Garros only release the schedule of play the morning of, so the suspense was killing me. Fingers were crossed for Novak Djokovic...

Result!

And look who was there to greet us when we arrived, just chillin:

Hey Roger! A special request- can you bring back that military jacket that you used to wear? This one. Because it was the campest thing I've ever seen and I loved it.

Yeah, I know the way. Don't test me...

Very important person honoured with a statue.

The first match.

Azarenka serves. In a very nice dress, might I add!

Swoon!! I. Die.

Legs! That's all.

Best trip ever.

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Allée

So. Mr Djokovic came so close to the much-hyped 'Nole Slam' in getting to the final of this year's Roland Garros.... but the party was put to an abrupt end by Mr Nadal. A sad end to a memorable tournament; unforgettable because I was lucky enough to be there this year.

Seriously, why didn't I do this before? This shit was cray...

Day One was a Sunday (which was actually the second day of the tournament), when most of the city shuts down, so we enjoyed the afternoon with an extremely leisurely (and at times exhaustive) stroll from our hotel in Opera down to the Arc du Triomphe, via the Champs Elysees, Laduree and Pierre Herme.

Mental note: must stay at this hotel (below) next time!

Owing to Paris' (and the whole of France's, for that matter) progressive/annoying attitude to Sunday trading hours, very few shops were open.

I would have killed for a peek inside this gem:

It's the standalone store for the famed Marseille mustard brand Maille, which was founded way back in 1720. Looking through the window, they had these devices which looked like beer engines lined up on the counter. This shop is definitely one for next time also...

Dinner was equally tricky, because not only are the shops shut on a Sunday, so too are the restaurants! I managed to find this spot though, called Drouant, via the internet (having creatively entered 'restaurants that open on Sunday in Paris' into Google'), which was a stroke of luck because not only did it turn out to serve amazing food, but it was located literally five minutes from our hotel.

Bread: good. Very crusty. Quintessentially French.

I predictably went for the pepper-crusted beef filet, homemade French fries and salad. Hey, it's steak frites. When in France...

Perhaps there was a little too much of the 'pepper crust' (I spent a great deal of time digging peppercorn shrapnel out of my teeth), but it was the largest steak I have ever tackled; about the size of a large fist. Well cooked too. Okay 'fries', but they weren't fries were they? They were chips. Chunky, albeit dry, chips. Served in a pan. The French may do steak well, but let's leave the chips to the Brits, eh? Merci.

I loved the idea of serving the 'fries' and sauce in mini-pans though.

My friend ordered the suckling lamb shoulder confit. As Rachel Zoe would say (if she ate): "I. Die."

The line "melt in the mouth" is so played-out. But this literally... melted in the mouth!

And to finish? A quartet of desserts. Chocolate obviously. Get ready for some disgusting food porn:

Now go and wash yourself.

The perfect fuel for a busy Day Two at Roland Garros.

Coming soon...

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Pitt Cue Co

BBQ is taking over London!

And Pitt Cue Co is the forerunner in the trend for Southern-style ribs, pulled pork and a whole lotta slaw.

Located in Soho, I hear the TINY eatery often has queues going around the corner at weekday lunchtimes, but on the sunny Saturday afternoon we visited we were seated straight away, though I would have preferred a seat in the small but cosy upstairs bar, which has a view of the street outside, as opposed to the windowless basement dining room.

Can't win em all...

I had it in my head that I was going to order the ribs in the 'build-up' to eating here (yes. there was a build-up. I'm sad like that). Seeing as though there is no comprehensive website (just a holding page) with a menu to view, this was the only dish I'd heard being attributed to Pitt Cue Co, and so I assumed it was their best.

While we are on the subject, can restaurants please start putting menus back on their website? This, like the no reservations trend, which PCC also adheres to, really gets my back up. I, like many other diners, like to know what's on offer at a restaurant before I risk venturing into town only to find that they don't have anything on offer that really tickles my fancy. Not only that, but how is one supposed to gauge the amount of money that will be spent on a meal if they have no idea of what each dish roughly costs?? I'm aware that many restaurants now have daily changing menus, which depend greatly on the produce they receive from suppliers that morning. But really. This is a BBQ joint. There will always be ribs. There will always be sausage. There will always be pulled pork. So just put a damn menu up!

I mean, it's not like the menu was long or anything...

Here's proof:

See!

Anyway, the Pulled Pork Bun Meal totally threw me. Especially with the promise of Burnt End Mash...

It is a dish I attempted to make myself earlier this year with limited facilities and an extreme lack of time. I'll spare you the horrendous details, but anyone who knows pulled pork will tell you that you need AT LEAST four hours to get the right level of tenderness.

There Burnt End Mash was so-so. I was expecting mash on the same level as the mash-with-roasting-juices concoction that changed my life at Dabbous a few months ago. Realistically, no other mashed potato will EVER reach such heights, but, but...did, did I just taste a- gasp- LUMP?!?! Ew.

The pudding wasn't so great either. Our waiter did warn us that the sponge was soaked in bourbon, but by soaked, he meant SATURATED and by bourbon, he meant PAINT STRIPPER. Nobody would sit next to me on the train back home, on account of me smelling like a lush.

The star of the show though, was the pulled pork. It was gloriously messy, as in 'Pass me a napkin because this shit is trickling down my wrist and into my sleeve' messy. I love that kind of messy.

The coleslaw inside the bun wasn't that horrible mayonnaisey stuff that is often passed off as coleslaw, but was actually a touch sweet with a satisfying crunch to balance the sloppiness of the juicy pork. Perfection and well worth £9.50.

Scrum diddly-umptious.

Pitt Cue Co

1 Newburgh Street
0207 287 5578

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Ballers in Palma Part II

The second part of my trip in Palma mainly consisted of walking around the city and exploring areas not frequented as much by tourists. This culminated with a visit to the Mercat Olivar, a vast indoor market, where most locals seems to shop for fresh produce such as fish, meat and veg. I love that fact that a market like this would be dressed up as an 'attraction' (a la Borough Market in London), but here it was just a way of daily Mallorcan Life!

Even Tupac has his own store here! Elvis does the night shift while Michael Jackson holds a Saturday job.

So, after a long weekend in Palma and an exhausting late night flight home on Sleazy Jet, what does one do???

Go to a Jay Z and Kanye West concert. Duh.

I can testify, that that shit was indeed cray.