Not Noma and not IKEA but someplace in the middle. Scandinavian food is tricky. Albeit a bit of a sleeper food trend right now, the cuisine is definitely not for the main stream type BUT then again, when have we ever been mainstream. We plunged right in identifying the game meats immediately. The above rare and tender saddle of venison medallions sat in a rich and smooth sauce that had both a sweet and earthy taste simultaneously. The slow roasted cipollini onions contrasted well with the meat and the sauce making for a nice full bite. It’s always a good sign when you are looking for a piece of bread to smear across the plate once you finish the big stuff.

A small identity crisis gave the ambiance a weird feel as this restaurant is in the back of a boutique hotel that is decorated both in the modern, urban, industrial feel and the 80′s white table cloth motif. More of a topic of conversation than a draw back. The end of the night came with one small disappointment. Traditional Swedish coffee, a more strong and burnt taste, was removed from the menu because American palettes couldn’t handle it. A shame because if you’re going to try something different, and Nordic cuisine definitely is, go all the way. Hopefully Plaj brings it back for those of us looking for the full scano-experience.

This post is one I’ve been meaning to finish since my trip to London a few months ago. I figured with the opening ceremonies upon us it was a great time to pop in a recommendation for those of you Olympic bound. It was one of the last days of our trip and we woke early to make the journey out to a place I had dreamt of visiting for at least a year. I love legos and in the real world legos equal shipping containers. The simple, watertight, structurally sound, building block of a shipping container makes for unlimited possibilities when constructing things.

Boxpark is one of those amazing triumphs using these recycled and cheap containers to make a supercool shopping mecca. I could go on about the specialty shops built into the 40 foot contaner which was the base of Boxpark. I could gush over the interior finishes that tricked you into feeling NOT in a container. I could talk about the HVAC, the industrial-yet-finished-exterior, the facade, the branding and graphics or the gourmet food court on the top floor. But, I won’t. Instead I’ll focus on a single container experience at Boxpark…Pieminister.  This ten year old pie joint is taking over the UK with 8 shops and counting, a truck, festival appearances and something they call PM Pubs. Their brand is as amazing as their pies.

As we explored the top floor of Boxpark we turned and walked into a 40 foot container. Greeting us was this lad on a bicycle who graced the right wall of the shop. Along the left wall was a line of booths that were anchored with a small kitchen and service area at back. Once inside we completely forgot we were in a container and felt more like we were in a pie diner.

The long narrow restaurant channeled baking pies up to the front door. Booths lined the left while a tiny channel gave way to the order area in the rear. As our nose dragged us to the back our eyes studied the menu. From Mint Lamb pies to Porky pies to mushroom pies they had it all. We settled on the PM pie, a free range British beef steak, kidneys, herbs and all in a lovely pastry. As traditional as you can get but we wanted to make a solid comparison to some of teh other artisan pies we’ve samples thus far on the trip.

The test held up and Pieminister passed with flying colors.Although we were in a shipping container the taste and smell of our pie made you feel like you were in Buckingham Palace. Speaking of royalty we are definitely not Monarchs but the Pieminister certainly kissed our hand. A new “must do” on all our London jaunts from here forward.

We all know the British love their tea. With the rise of the Starbucks era you might feel the age old tradition of tea time fading. At least visually speaking. As you scan the street landscape you’re more apt to find a coffee shop than a tea shop. Don’t get me wrong, you can still grab a wonderful cup of tea at any corner shop in London, just follow the builders. The difference is in how you enjoy that cup of tea. Sitting in a Cafe Nero or a Costa Coffee provides that quiet, comfortable and relaxed atmosphere “tea time” used to include. The problem is that these shops are strongly centered around coffee. From what’s in your cup to the same named cake available under the glass counter, it seems like tea is fitting in less and less with our go-go-go world. From a visitors perspective, one of the MUST DO’s when in Britain is to properly enjoy a proper cup of tea. (Take note of that double “proper”) I hunted for this but with no luck. Then I stumbled into the quintessential tea experience in the last place I ever thought possible.

Camden Market was high on the list of my hotspots after having been to London many times but never quite making it to this famous spot. My wife, and standard companion to all things travel and food, had been to the market before but not for a decade therefore she shared my same excitement as we raced out of the tube stop. The market consists of a number of adjoining large retail markets in Camden Town near the Hampstead Road Lock of the Regent’s Canal. The largest part of the market occupies old stables located in the former Pickfords stables and horse hospital which served the horses pulling Pickford’s distribution vans and barges along the canal. Pickford’s itself is an interesting an historical story. The company has been evolving since 1642. Each shop is set in large arches or railway viaducts. The stables create a multi-floor labyrinth of crafts, clothing, bric-a-brac, and housewares for visitors to explore and in most cases get lost.

As we turned a corner deep in the bowles of the stables I saw a perfectly primped tea oasis crammed amidst the porcelain shop and the old valise vendor. My wife went ballistic as her nostalgia, little girl, sweet tooth and tea fetish meters redlined. She b-lined it into the horse stall to order the, at long last, perfect cup of tea along with a sweet tea cake. We were served our tea and cake moments later by a young, dare I say British hipster, who was full of pleasantries and calm. We sat, sipped and snacked at a small table just outside the stall. Many of the shops wares spill outside the stalls both for advertising purposes and lack of space. The tea shop was no exception. The effect was that all the shops have a connection to each other. As we sat in our mismatched rickety chairs we felt enveloped in the scene. The boundaries between the tea shop, the adjacent stalls and us somehow seamed non-existant. The wonder of the market is that you can be totally lost yet feel safely found at the same time.

As we finished our tea my wife went up to our new friends and inquired about the lovely tea sets they used to serve their guests. A few minutes later she came back with an inked up napkin and a story. Of course the tea sets were purchased at a stall in the market. I’d imagine most of the proprietors don’t need to leave the stables to operate their business’ with so many different types of vendors all so near. Taking a closer look at the napkin I realized the tea shop owner had drawn a rudimentary map leading us from his shop to the tea set stall three floors above. Finishing up our last drops of tea we mustered up the courage to begin yet another journey into the labyrinth that is Camden Market.

For more information about the secret tea shop read this or visit their facebook page.

As a quick follow up to a post about my love of less options and simply designed generic products, Marks + Spencers of London has a nice approach. Not as clean as Canada’s Loblaw’s and certainly not hitting the Pathmark NO FRILLS circa 1978 gold standard but commendable.

A more modern design style with a bit more color and imagery used but it still has a clean and very direct communication of the product. In may cases the ingredients are treated with the same necessity to communicate quickly and strongly. Below is a show and tell on a few of my favorite products.

You can’t go to London without having some Indian food. It’s so synonymous with British cuisine that it’s referred to as, well…British cuisine. On this trip I hit two semi-famous local spots. They were drastically different in ever way; location, ambiance, food and price. I’m going to take them one by one to breakdown the tasty and terrible but know now they are both outstanding in their own way.

Tayyabs (below picture)

A tube ride out to the East End dumped us on a street packed with fried chicken joints and threading shops. It was friday night and the block was bumping. The sidewalks were filled with street vendors, groups of Indian and Pakistani guys just hanging out, extended families in their traditional garb shuffling through the aforementioned obstacles trying to get home. After a few blocks on the main street a left and a quick right slipped me into an alley that was the oppositte of the street that I had just manipulated. Quiet and uncrowded Fieldgate Street wound around a long curve to reveal the small sign indicating Tayyabs’ entrance. Once inside the hustle and bustle kicked up again. The que (read line) wrapped through half the restaurant. People and tables were crammed in ever crevise of the space. The tables were all filled, crammed actually, with more people than you’d expect at each one. Smoking plates of food crowned the tables with large bottles of beer circling the center attraction. The patrons were loud, rambunctious and what we would later come to realize, drunk. This is a good time to mention that Tayyabs is a BYOB establishment. This makes the beverage store adjacent to the restaurant a very happy, lucrative business. My NYer radar sensed that the owners have a stake in both the restaurant and the shop. Smart.

The que moved quickly and before I new it I was seated at a two top in the upstairs dining room. A more rowdy and more crowded version of the one downstairs. To my left was a table of twenty that were in full tilt stagg party mode. In front of me a table of eight co-workers, which became twelve rather quickly, celebrated ending of another week of the daily grind. To my right were the stairs I came up which now doubled as the food delivery highway. Plates of fragrant sizzling meat on skewers running out of the kitchen below to hungry guests. The ordering was simple although you could get lost in the menu for a good thirty minutes. I settled on kahari gosh, onion pekoras and tandoori lamb and chicken. Kahari is one of the things Tayyabs is famous for. According to them kahari is associated with a deep cooking pot that is used throughout traditional cooking in Pakistan, each dish is simmered and prepared using traditional methods that have been handed down across generations. According to me it’s damn good and an absolute must if you visit.

Making quick work of the courses as they dropped one after another on my table and having forgotten to stop at the shop next door for my beer I made a quick and smooth exit. I made it out the front door just in time to witness a twenty on one street fight which had me head in the opposite direction for fear of getting tied up in the mix of some east end brawl. Plus, I was digesting. I popped back out on the main drag and headed to the tube stop. Tayyabs was physically far away but my belly as well as ever fiber of clothing I wore would remind me all night of the delicious food and crazy ambiance Tayyabs has to offer. If their is one critique it is for them to invest in a new ventilation system. You clothes will smell of tandoor for a week, I promise.

Moti Mahal (above picture)

Literally it translates to fatso palace. How can you go wrong you say? You can’t, but this place isn’t what you’d think using the english translation as your guide. Moti Mahal is just off Covent Garden, aguably one of the most posh and touristed places in all of London proper. I truely didn’t think I would wind up there but not for the reasons I just mentioned. It’s extremely expensive. With all the great Indian food available in London I thought spending a lot money on a good Indian meal was pretty stupid. As it turns out this was worth every pence. Easily in the top 5 Indian meals of my life, Moti began and ended the night with elegance. Escorting us to their downstairs dining room, the maitre D walked us passed the kitchen window and slipped through the ultra modern white walls seating us at a semi circle leather booth in the back corner of the room. Moments after settling in we were presented with a large platter of fresh uncut vegetables, a sharp knife, a small bottle of oil and two miniature clay bowls. In the bowls were raw spices that were to be crushed and sprinkled on the vegetables and our meal.  I love small, unique details like this. I feel it is these touches that make experiences memorable.

After a good, long look at the menu I ordered their signature kebab dish, some chicken tikka masala, lamb biriyani and an eggplant dish. The kebabs were up first and came with an elaborate skewered presentation. The finale was our waiter removing them from their sticks and preparing us each a taste. The chicken gave me flash backs to India. One of the most delicious and amazing tastes of my life was the first time I had chicken in India. The texture of the meat was so tender I had to ask if it was really chicken. These kebabs had that same texture. Moist, flavorful and soft each bite was more delicious than the next. The eggplant arrived in rounds of skin which was a nice reprieve from the normal baingan bartha presentation found far and wide. Neatly placed on the dish were also two chutneys that paired well with the eggplant. One sweet and one a bit more savory with a tomato base. By the time our mains arrived we were nearly stuffed but we persevered. The biriyani presentation was beautiful and the taste was really nice but the tikka masala stole the show. The chicken had that same tenderness and with the silky masala sauce over top the combination sent my taste buds into ghee heaven. The night concluded with an overstuffed stomach wandering out into the misty Covent Garden and slowly savoring the experience that had just wowwed.

Tandoori plate at Tayyabs

Between these two restaurants you can’t really go wrong. I am sure there are 100 more places that can delight just the same. If you’re in London soon and you are looking to experience the full spectrum of Indian food I suggest you follow my taste buds and see what you think for yourself. Just remember to bring your big wallet and a fist depending on which part of town you visit.

Kebabs and eggplant at Moti Mahal

Spice and vegetable platter at Moti Mahal. 

Utensil rest at Moti Mahal. Another nice touch to the experience.

Most of you, I am sure, are familiar with the English pub. After this past weekend’s alcoholic debauchery in green t-shirts, face stickers and tights I’m sure some of you are wishing you were not as familiar as you are. I realize Irish Pub’s and English Pub’s are different. I am not a fool. With this context in mind, American’s idea of a pub doesn’t really have clear distinction between the two. Of course, there is a big difference. For me to explain that I’d need to visit Ireland or chat with my buddy @Mulls on the nuances. For this post “The Pub”, in general, is what’s in discussion. Irish or English need not matter. @Mulls once told me that each family has a pub where they all gather for weddings, funerals and, yes celebrating saints. Much like the Italian dining rom table, the pub is like an extended living room. Adults, kids and friends are all welcome any day, any time.

I recently visited with my British pal Patrick who’s childhood buddy was also on Holiday at his house. As boys will do, we got talking about the good old days and their trials and tribulations in England. It was suggested, not by myself, that drinking was becoming an epidemic in England. Each weekend ending with trashed public property and littered streets not to mention the run on suchers and butterfly bandages at the local ER. Neither of them could pin point why this behavior has evolved to be the norm but they both agreed it has become a problem both for the general public and for the individuals personal health. The point to all this is, there is more to do in a pub than get belligerently drunk.

On my recent jaunt in London I popped into a lovely pub on the border of Knotting Hill for a snack, not to get pissed. The food was some of the best I had in all of London. It was simple, British, classic and fresh. I think pubs sometimes get pegged by American’s as only drinking holes which means, when abroad, they miss a whole part of the pub experience.  I ordered the haddock, pictured at top, and chips. It was super fresh fish fried in clean oil which created the perfect crust. The above bangers and mash were also freshly stuffed and fried. My guess, they were cooked in separate oil since there was no fish bits or taste to the dish. A true sign of the publican caring as much about the grub as they do about the beer. The bangers sat on a fluffy and unusually light bed of mashed potatoes (read: mash) that helped keep the gravy at bay until I was ready to mix the three items on each bite. Of course I indulged in a few pints of dark, room temperature, cask ale to wash down these delights. With moderation.

It made me wonder if I could find a pub here in New York that takes as much pride in their food as they do in their beer. So often do these spots get overlooked. Our blossoming gastropub scene does a great job of solving this mystery but those are not the establishments I am talking about. I want to find a true pub that serves excellent food. Or at least try. Look for a follow up story soon as I explore NYC in hopes of finding an understated watering hole that serves better burgers than the Minetta Tavern or a slow roasted meat that has April Bloomfield begging for the address.

If there’s one place you have to visit when in London it’s Borough Market. Yes, it’s a little touristy. Yes, It can be crowded. Despite these negatives the culinary wonders that can be seen, smelt and tasted far outweigh the annoyances. I’ve been here before. You may remember. This time it was all about a traveling snack. Having just walked from Tower Bridge and heading to Knotting Hill, I needed a tie-me-over for this uber London crossing.

Pocket snacks have been around for a long time. To credit the origins we must thank Cornwall, Great Britain. The spread of this brilliant idea came from Cornish Minors and their need to have a hot pocket snack with them deep in the mine for lunch. As they travelled the world to mine different lands the Beef pastie, what you see above, became filled with local ingredients. Most known now is the empanada and the Jamaican beef patty.

The english make amazing meat pies, which is a whole different post from this trip, but I needed something that could travel. Meat pie ingredients in pocket form was just the thing to keep the momentum and fill my empty stomach. Believe me it was hard to pass up the bangers, pies, sausage rolls and Maria’s famous bubble and squeak bap but my choice won on functionality. Delicious and fresh in it’s own right the potato, cabbage and beef filling gave my stomach something to focus on for the next 2 hours until I reached a suitable Knotting Hill pub.

Entrance to the market.

Maria’s delicious and famous stand in Borough Market.

Butcher in Borough Market.

Pie stand.

Award winning pie stand. This is where my pocket came from.

The name of this place always sounds like you’d walk into a velvet draped boudoir riddled with oil rubbed fry men being fanned by veiled mermaids. My over active imagination aside, any trip to Londontown without a stop at this bare bones chip shop is a failure as far as I am concerned. I hit it on the very last day of the trip during a long walk back to the hotel to grab my bags and head to Heathrow. Despite it being a bit dated and factory fry I enjoyed my cod and fries immensely. This was the last stop in what had been quite the afternoon eating adventure. Among my other stops in this final munch march were a cornicopia of London staples.

Here’s the play by play of my last afternoon working backwards from the Delight.

Alen’s Fish & Chips

Curry chips was on my list since wheels down three days prior. Believe it or not, it almost evaded me, but just a few blocks before the Fryer’s Delight I popped into an even bigger dive. Alen’s was my curry chips hero, it was horrible but necessary.

The Bleeding Heart Tavern

My final cask ale. This one came with a high alcohol content warning. Mmmmm.

Final Pudding also at the Bleeding Heart which was an upscale feeling standard looking spot in the diamond district.

Mother Mash

The whole gastro walk home started here just behind Regent st.e between Piccadilly and Oxford Circus. Found in my pre-trip planning, this sausage and potato chain turned out some good bangers with a fun vibe. The menu is split into three steps. Choose your sausage then your mash and then your sauce. I choose Cumberland sausage, onion gravy and colcannon mash. Holy mother mash!

London called and I answered with wife in tow. A 72 hour long banger and mash crawl sent us to the far ends of London proper allowing us to discover a myriad of tasty outside of our self-prescribed sausage hunt. A few delicious, quick food joints and a small disappointment at one of London’s most famous chef’s hot spots are among the oven fresh topics. Look for the highlights in upcoming posts this week and next. We might even get to print a few words from my wife on this one. Her “Born in Britain” was in full effect and the nostalgia meter was off the chart. For now think about eating 10 sausages in 3 days. Then look close at the above image. Tasty right?

While in Italy I realized that there’s a lot happening around the world between two slices of bread. Anthony and I have travelled the world eating everything from Balut in the Philippines to blood sausage in Argentina. In every destination there has always been a sandwich shop. Some were good and some were bad but they all had their unique take on this ubiquitous meal. The origin of the sandwich is highly debated and we’ll dive into that on our journey as we discover, taste and debate the best sandwiches in the world.