I can’t think of a better way to start the Easter weekend than by sharing a Kurzi lamb at the Mogul Restaurant in Hemel. Kurzi lamb was apparently a favourite of the Moghul Emperor, and is a favourite amongst my friends ‘down south’ largely because of the sense of occasion which comes with carving a whole large leg of lamb at the table. One has to order a kurzi lamb at least 48 hours in advance to guarantee that a large enough piece of meat can be sourced, and give it plenty of time to sit in its marinade of spices and… er… lamb mince.
Our table of ten makes easy work of this, and we order a few extras including a tandoori-style trout, and the rather interesting ‘Staff Curry’ which is strongly flavoured with tamarind and puts me in mind of the kind of food served by the northern quarter cafes, only a little bit more stylish.
Friday is a relaxing day. A lie-in, newspapers, pop to the shops. We decide to rustle up a couple of salads for a leisurely lunch. A good friend surprised me with a gift of a wedge of Lincolnshire poacher cheese. Nuttier than a mature cheddar, and more brittle too, which makes it ideal for crumbling into a British-style salad with bitter leaves, beetroot, and a dressing made from cider vinegar.
King prawns are going cheap down at Morrisions so we buy a little plastic boxful. I make a salad from these, dressed with sesame oil, chilli, garlic and spring onions. Served with the bitter leaves as before. They make an interesting contrast to the Brit-salad, and also give us the sort of garlic-breath that clear a space at the bar.
We head off to the cinema in the evening to watch the Glastonbury film, which opens beautifully with a sound familiar to any Glasto veteran – the sound of wellies in mud.
Saturday
Today’s main activity involved a longer than expected trek along the Thames path from Windsor to Shepperton, encountering varied wildlife, including three green parrots (apparently there are thousands living wild in the Thames region), and a captive Eagle Owl. Lunch was the usual walkers affair – assorted butties, homemade trail mix (with extra pumpkin seeds…) and plums. The first unscheduled ice cream of the season as well. Mint choc-chip cornetto.
We’re knackered when we get home, and both feeling a cold coming on, decide to skip the evening’s planned running around Shoreditch bars in favour of a roast chicken supper, with green beans, new potatoes and a weird experimental gravy made from cider vinegar which would have benefited from thinking through properly beforehand.
Sunday
Mooching around Upper Street is more fun than usual due to the complete lack of people. We nip into the Winchester pub near Islington green to take advantage of their two for one Sunday Roast offer.
I opt for Lamb while Mrs Jiffler goes for beef. What arrives looks promising, and the meat is as good as you could wish for in a pub. The roast potatoes have had some effort put into them as well. The chef is clearly not a Brit though, as the Yorkshires were a bit on the soggy side (a bad thing) and the veg where still crunchy and colourful (a good thing). I’ll go back there again. As long as its two for one.
Tom Yam Gai soup in the evening fails to recreate the glories of the other week, but is met with general approval. I used medium rice noodles for the first time, but I still prefer Udon noodles in a fusion stylee.
Monday:
Another stretch of the Thames, from Shepperton to Teddington lock, accompanied by more assorted sandwiches, and a treat for me - a bar of Cote d’or dark chocolate with hazelnuts in.
After another beautiful day of walking, Mrs Jiffler find ourselves ravenous, but with an empty fridge. We wander up Holloway road trying to find somewhere cheapish that is open, and doesn’t involve kebabs. While crossing the road we step in front of Mingo (http://mingworld.blogspot.com/) driving back up to Hertfordshire. What are the chances of that eh?
We arrive at a ‘gastro-pub’ called the Landseer, which is pleasantly busy with young studenty/young professional types. Starters are ridiculous and features: ‘Quail Cigar with Diamond Vegetables and Red Current Sauce’ (that is a direct quote, complete with spelling mistakes). What is a Quail Cigar? Will it fit up the chef’s arse?
On the mains the chef has managed to keep his culinary masturbation to himself and so Mrs Jiffler and I both order burgers, she with mushrooms, and I with Goats cheese on top, and two pints of well kept IPA from the rather disorganised antipodean behind the bar.
Bread arrives, with olive oil and balsamic for dipping. So far so gastropub. Then our burgers arrive – blimey the crusty farm-house style buns are as big as Mrs Jiffler’s face!
The ‘Hand-cut’ chips are a decent size and a generous portion. They could have done with a few minutes less in the chip pan though as they where seriously browned. How does a gastro-pub chef let this kind of thing leave the kitchen? Its chips for gods sake. Anyhow, Mrs Jiffler likes them that way apparently so I keep the grumbling to a minimum. The ‘tossed’ salad is unremarkable too. Some dense, flavourless leaves with the merest shaving of red onion – quite where the tossing came in to things I’m not sure.
Our burgers however, are mighty. They both arrive topped with goats cheese and mushrooms, although thanks to the antipodean idiot behind the bar we didn’t pay for either. The burgers are huge, and the quality of the meat stands out. I might quibble a bit and say they where a touch overdone, but then I’m still bitter about the chips, otherwise I’d say it was one of the best burgers I’ve had for a long, long time.
