February 2025 - Neil Sowerby

On a rewarding London spice trail I went crackers for starry Anglo Thai

Dusk in deepest Marylebone. Surprised to see swanky Seymour Place still retains an old school hardware shop. It’s shut for the day, so no chance of an impromptu ‘four candles’ purchase. Across the street is my destination – a restaurant years in pop-up gestation, that has won a Michelin star just three months after opening. Anglo Thai’s mission statement? Thai cuisine cooked with British ingredients.

So I have to thank Devon for the Brixham crab and Exmoor caviar that combine in a signature dish that has been a constant on chef John Chantarasak’s journey here. It is as ravishing as the arty upmarket beach-shack fit-out. White crab meat in a coconut cream, topped generously with the fish eggs. To be spread over a coconut ash cracker shaped like some religious symbol. I worshipped it.

John himself is the embodiment of the hybrid. Born in Liverpool to a Thai father and English mother, he was raised in the Wye Valley. Great British Menu 2020 claimed him for Wales, six years after he returned from Bangkok to work at Som Saa in Spitalfields (founded by two Englishmen). Out of all this sprung the peripatetic Anglo-Thai pop-up with sommelier wife Desiree.

Along the way they fashioned their culinary ethos, built around modern fermentation techniques (John makes his own fish sauce from kitchen scraps) while limiting the amount of imported raw materials. Fresh galangal, lime leaves and lemongrass are still flown in, but chillies can be grown seasonally in the UK and souring agents such as lime and tamarind can be replaced by British-grown sea buckthorn, rhubarb and under ripe gooseberries. Similarly ivy pollen honey from Glastonbury can be substituted for palm sugar. I’m less sure, on the evidence of my Anglo Thai dinner, of serving our heritage grains instead of rice. I love Hon Mali, the pandan scented jasmine rice from North Eastern Thailand. Barley not so much.

Mentored by David Thompson, creator of groundbreaking Nahm

John’s Bangkok grounding combined its Cordon Bleu school and a stint at Nahm restaurant with David Thompson, the Australian Thai cuisine guru. The bright pink dust jacket of his encyclopaedic Thai Food has sat on my kitchen shelf since it was published in 2002 (the hefty, heavily illustrated slab that is Thai Street Food is consigned to the attic), the year after he opened the original Nahm restaurant inside Belgravia’s Halkin Hotel. Like Anglo-Thai, it swiftly won over Michelin, becoming the first ever Thai restaurant to be awarded a star.

We once ha d a luxury stayat the Halkin and, even if the dining room was a bit shiny Bangkok boudoir, Thompson’s fine dining interpretation of dishes from across the regions felt revelatory. A world away from the pub Thai green curries that were already traducing the tradition. I was already sourcing my own spice paste ingredients but was five years away from visiting the distant reaches of their culinary homeland.

Not all the critics were so impressed with Nahm. A splenetic Jonathan Meades wrote: “Nahm’s cooking is all legerdemain, trickery, disguise, technical flashiness for its own sake; take the extraordinary waffles or rösti-like things made with rehydrated fish – the skill is patent, but the result is boring. Nothing tastes of itself. Most of the dishes taste of chilli, which is used with coarse abandon.”

Jay Rayner was kindlier, but shared Meades’ suspicion about a Sydney-born chef being master of all things fish sauce and lemongrass. Had they never heard of Pacific Rim? Whatever, for him, the whole operation smacked of colonialism. And the food? “There were a couple of high points. But it did not redefine my understanding of Thai food. I was left with those familiar flavour memories: of sweet and sour, of nut and chilli and coriander, just as I am after any good Thai meal.”

In 2012 Thompson closed the Halkin outpost two years after opening a second branch of Nahm in Bangkok. This soon earned a star and then a place in the World’s Top 50 restaurants. That’s all in the past and late last year Thompson, now in his sixties, returned to London to launch a version of his Sydney casual diner Long Chim.

It occupies the ground floor of Soho Greek/Turkish spot Hovarda. A Thai pop-up, who would have thought it? Alas, my plans to check out Long Chim during a recent London visit were stymied by the dreaded ‘closed on Monday’. Instead I went on a pilgrimage to four Thai restaurants across the capital that have reordered the way we think about the cuisine. Two hold Michelin Bib Gourmands, Anglo Thai that shiny new star.

Try Thai? Here are the four hot spots I sampled on a flying visit

Long Chim means ‘Come and Try It’, but of course I couldn’t. Kolae at Borough Market had the advantage of being open on a Monday. It is a spin-off from Som Saa, which translates as ‘bitter orange’. Kolae itself means ‘fishing boat’ but also refers to food from southern Thailand that is marinated, basted, grilled, slathered and drenched in a paste of coconut curry. That is very much its focus.

Kiln in Brewer Street, Soho gets its name from a furnace, appropriate to its take on the fire-based cooking of Northern Thailand. Two dozen walk-in covers, most on the counter by the grills, does raise a punter sweat. All part of the excitement, when you eventually bag a seat. It doesn’t match Kolae, though, for the regular whoosh of wok flames.

My third new wave Thai (open Monday evenings, there is a God) was Kiln’s stablemate, Smoking Goat, which shares the same in your face prepping and duplicates some barbecue items (the naans are all their own). It started off in Soho’s Denmark Street but now is a linchpin of the Shoreditch hipster scene, more barlike as befits a homage to Bangkok’s late night canteens (sic). I loved the fun of it.

As you may gather, Anglo Thai is a very different beast. Not just through its slogan ‘Rooted in Thailand, Uniquely British’ but because of its casual fine dining feel, with a £110 tasting menu and serious, mainly natural, wine list in a 50 cover space conceived by Thai-American designer May Redding. Obviously at some expense to the investors, the MJMK restaurant group. Grace Dent, a fellow fan, swooned over ‘strategically placed Lampang Province ceramics’ and ‘flattering Ban Pa Ao lighting’. I was impressed by the strategically informed staff.

So what were the highlights of my new wave Thai spice crawl?

KOLAE

Start your meal in this bright 80 cover space (above) in a former railway arch with the grilled mussel skewers (£6). They have been steeped in a nutty marinade, grilled twice over a smouldering coconut, then enhanced by a squeeze of calamansi lime. As well as stone grinding their own curry pastes the team prepare fresh coconut milk every morning and this imparted a vivid freshness to my southern gati curry of tiger prawns with cumin leaf (£17). Initially gentle, both dishes left a chilli hit on the palate. Sourcing is important. Meat comes from Swaledale in Yorkshire, fish from the South Coast each morning. Veg is UK organic, their new season rice is from ethical suppliers Paddi.

KILN

I was warned my venison jungle curry was not for the faint-hearted. I handled this North Thai style challenge (£16.20) well; my neighbour at the counter was left gasping for water after the spice kick of his som tam of radish and beetroot. Always the salads. Kiln remains cheerfully uncompromising. They too source day boat fish, their Tamworth pigs (pork is a key menu element) are bred specially for them by Fred Price in Somerset, the cull yaw mutton comes from a certain Mike Chatfield. I was lucky to squeeze in at the counter on arrival. A squad of besmitten walk-ins waited their turn with supreme nose-twitching patience.

SMOKING GOAT

Cull yaw in ‘sai oua’ Northern Thai sausage form (£4.90) was one of my starters at Smoking Goat, where I mounted my latest counter stool. I also felt I had to try the sweet and smoky house special of fish sauce chilli wings (£3.90) – perfect bar food for the new West Coast IPA in my life. But what made the trek into Shoreditch memorable was a turmeric pepper BBQ gurnard (£17), the whole fleshy fish splayed out for easy access. With strips of naan and a winter radish som tam with citrus eclectically sourced from Valencia’s Todoli Foundation I constructed my own sustainable fish butties. Bliss.

ANGLO THAI

Fish was a main in Anglo Thai’s beautifully presented 10 course tasting menu. A tranche of pollock in a lake of orange curry. At all the previous Thai stop-offs I had avoided the souplike sour curries. Now was the moment of reckoning. After a Carlingford oyster dressed in fermented chilli with sea buckthorn it was the spiciest dish on the menu, mitigated by sweetheart cabbage two ways, including a cute impersonation of a stuffed banana leaf.

An intriguing substitute for satay sauce was made from sunflower seeds to accompany a grilled Jerusalem artichoke dish. Very true to project, yet Todoli citrus again, made an appearance with lemongrass and pine in a pre-dessert. Anglo-Spanish?

This was Thai food on a different level. Rather than compare it to the other three, fine in their own way, restaurants look for comparisons to the Michelin starred Indian cuisine of Chet Sharma at Bibi over in Mayfair. My recommendation: visit both for equally thrilling spice-driven food.

A country of many cuisines – read up on Thai food heritage

Chef patron Chantarasak has found time to write his own recipe book, Kin Thai, and modestly recommends David Thompson’s magnum opus. I look no further than Austin Bush’s duo of intensely researched travelogues – The Food of Northern Thailand (2018) and the The Food of Southern Thailand (2024). This American expat is based in the country, a fluent Thai speaker and a compulsive traveller, who has has contributed to Lonely Planet and rival guides to South Eastern Asia.

His latest book is a visual revelation, too. His photography skills capture the vividness of diverse dishes such as Pork Braised with Soy Sauce, Pepper and Brown Sugar; a Rice Salad with Budu Dressing; a Spicy Dip of Smoked Shrimp; and Simmered Black Sticky Rice with Taro and Jackfruit. In Southern Thailand Chinese, Malay and Muslim cuisines come together in one cultural melting pot.

24 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Uncategorised

A tale of two Sohos: anarchist assassins and hospitality incubators

Ravioli di zucca, you should be my Proustian madeleine moment when Lina Stores expands into Manchester this spring. Fingers crossed these little pasta parcels of pumpkin and ricotta make the cut, to be served doused in butter, sage and Grana Padano.

For a while this old favourite of mine no longer seemed a fixture on the menu of the Italian icon that has swollen since my first encounter in Eighties Soho. Just as I have, thanks to a lifetime of carbs. At the last count Lina currently comprises three delis and seven restaurants across London with a further three outposts in Japan – a statement in itself.

The original family deli, where they used to bag up the ravioli for me (in sheets of greaseproof sprinkled with Parmesan) still occupies its corner site at 18 Brewer Street. Here fresh pasta continues to be made, under the perfectionist eye of consultant head chef Masha Rener, who perfected her dough skills in Umbria. The premises themselves have set the design template for the burgeoning Lina chain (the first spin-off restaurant was in nearby Greek Street). Think signature pistachio-green exterior and colourful floor to ceiling shelffuls.

No Manchester expansion ill omens, I hope, in the presence next door at no.16 Brewer Street of Randall & Aubin. That fellow Soho fixture opened 30 years before Lina in 1911 as London’s first French butchers, supplying Sir Winston Churchill and both the Ritz and Savoy.

In 1996, under new ownership, it reopened as a seafood-led restaurant, while retaining, even gussying up, the original Edwardian features. That incarnation is still there but R&A over-stretched themselves with an ill-starred Manchester franchise in 2016. Within a year the liquidators were called in and it was salvaged before finally limping off into the sunset. Kaji, formerly Musu, now occupies the Bridge Street site.

The other day I passed Lina Stores’ starkly functional new venue on Quay Street, its huge expanse of glass mirroring the Opera House opposite. At 150 covers, it doesn’t yell ‘just like Mama used to make’. Nor does the all-day, breakfast to cocktail ethos honed across South Ken, Marylebone, Kings Cross, Broadgate Circle et al.

Lina’s arrival in Manchester mirrors that of other reassuring mid-size brands from The Smoke – Flat Iron, Blacklock, Caravan following in the footsteps of Dishoom, Rosa’s Thai, Honest Burgers and, on a different level, the mighty Hawksmoor.

How Lina’s pumpkin ravioli were my Eighties lifeline

My own Lina loyalty was always tenuous. I’d followed the national newspapers south when they’d shut their northern offices. Just a four day week toiling in The Street of Shame but still three nights away (and too much time spent in Fleet Street watering holes) before an all too fleeting long weekend with my family in the Pennines. It couldn’t last.

Back then pasta, parmesan and pesto, let alone fresh basil, weren’t staples of the supermarket shelves, even if chemists shops were no longer the source of our olive oil. That’s where Soho came in as a place to stock up on Roman and Tuscan exotica (of the culinary variety). Lina Stores wasn’t even my deli of choice. That honour went to I Camisa & Son around the corner in Old Compton Street. Like Lina, it had changed hands but felt immutable. My life didn’t as I clutched my consignment of San Daniele Prosciutto and Parmigiano Reggiano and sprinted for Euston.

Soho retains my affection to this day and I’ve waxed nostalgic about its legacy on this s ite while championing today’s culinary heroes – Jeremy Lee at Quo Vadis and Tomos Parry at Mountain, Oisin Rodgers’ Guinness-centric Devonshire and Noble Rot occupying what was the Gay Hussar… not forgetting the searing take on Northern Thai from the team at Kiln.

Of old haunts, my sole constant is the 150-year-old Maison Bertaux in Greek Street for café au lait and croissant. Since 1988 it has been in loving English hands, two sisters steeped in its culture, so changes have been sympathetic. Compare with its one-time rival in Old Compton Street. Patisserie Valerie.

From small-scale brand building in the late Eighties it rose to nearly 200 branches nationally before plunging dramatically in the last decade with much publicised financial nightmares and wholesale closures, among them the lacklustre Deansgate, Manchester cafe.

Lina Stores has been a quite different proposition, having got into bed with White Rabbit Projects, a self-styled ‘hospitality incubator’ whose CEO is former Soho House commercial director Chris Miller. His team have obviously brokered the big investment in what was solely a family-run deli for decades. Cannily the Lina website comprehensively surveys that Little Italy legacy, celebrating both the folksy side and the start-studded patronage.

It may just be me but I love this anecdote: “In the mid-20th century, the rooms above the delicatessen were used for auditions and rehearsals for nearby theatres in the West End. Later, they were rented by John Calder, who ran his publishing business from there. Many faces visited Calder over the years, including Samuel Beckett, who often came over from Paris and stayed overnight, playing Calder’s Bechstein grand piano into the early hours.”

Soho was once packed with food stores. Confusingly there were two Camisas – I Camisa and Fratelli Camisa. All down to the brothers Ennio and Isidoro Camisa, who created the business in the 1920s. Later after wartime internment they fell out and becoming bitter commercial rivals with separate Soho stores. How very Italian, you might say. Now neither survives in tangible form. Fratelli, once of Berwick Street, went online long ago, while I Camisa, having won a stay of execution for two years after support from the Save Soho campaigners, shut for good in the autumn.

When I walked past the other day it was shuttered up and sad. Still Old Compton Street, with its strong gay community, remains a vibrant stretch. Camisa’s neighbour has recently been reborn as Poppie’s, a chippie with a retro seventies vibe. In the 1950s it was the 2is coffee bar, where the young Cliff Richard was discovered. So many Soho ghosts.

Anarchy in W1: King Bomba v Mussolini

One of Soho’s real old school delis was King Bomba (above). The quarter had been home to North Italian immigrants from the late 19th century, many fleeing political unrest. That was the certainly the case with King Bomba founder Emidio Recchioni, born near Ravenna in 1864. Originally a rail worker/activist, his anarchist beliefs led him to found a radical newspaper, swiftly suppressed. Summary executions were carried out on his comrades and Recchioni was implicated in an assassination attempt on the Prime Minister. Acquitted, he still served harsh jail terms before fleeing to London at the turn of the century.

In 1909 he opened his groundbreaking grocery – where else – in Old Compton Street. Profits from Parmesan and pasta helped fund the exiled radicals who made it their rendezvous. In 1932 a failed attempt on the life of Mussolini was linked to Recchioni after the hired assassin was tortured into a confession. This unrepentant anti-Fascist’s British passport spared him retribution. Two years later he was dead, buried in Kensal Green Cemetery; King Bomba lived on until 1971. I wonder if ravioli di zucca was on the menu?

20 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Travel, Uncategorised, Wine

Biodynamic Washington wine (and a slice of David Lynch’s cherry pie)

Guardians of the Red Mountain sounds pure Lord of the Rings. So too the ritual planting of a sacred cow horn to thwart the dominance of the chemical Dark Lord. Easy on the Tolkien there. The biodynamic Hedges Family Estate is set not in some mythical Shires but in one of the prime viticultural sites of Washington State in the north west USA.

Mountain? More of a long mound apparently, coloured by reddish cheat grass in spring before the grapes take centre stage – true object of the family’s self-styled guardianship. This is as hot and dry as it gets with cool nights, the soil a mix of clay, loess and rocky granite, making it perfect for creating stellar, tannic red wines; Hedges are a rarity among their peers in going down the biodynamic route.

This means their five vineyards are farmed according to the eco-forward tenets of the Austrian philosopher, Rudolf Steiner (1861-1925). Probably the most divisive of these recommends the use of ‘preparation BD500’, where horns are filled with ox manure and buried in October to stay in the ground throughout the dormant season. The horn is later unearthed, diluted with water and sprayed onto the soil.

However wacky it may sound the proof is surely in the wine quality and the 2020 vintage of La Haute Cuvee, their first certified biodynamic wine, is supple and savoury with masses of ripe blackcurrant under its tannic shield.

I am tasting it alongside a trio of other Hedges reds (including a stunning Syrah ‘Les Gosses’) at a Pacific Peaks & Vines roadshow in Manchester, showcasing the wines of Washington and Oregon. I’m in the amiable company of the brand’s travelling ambassador, Christophe Hedges, who runs the estate with his winemaker sister Sarah. She led the charge to biodynamic practice and natural fermentation; in a region of ‘big’ wines theirs possess a certain Old World finesse.

Maybe put that down the influence of their French mum Anne-Marie. She and husband Tom harvested their first vintage in 1987 before purchasing 50 acres on Red Mountain two years later to plant mainly Bordeaux varietals. These days (from their French chateau-like base) they are adapting to climate change by employing drought-resistant grape varieties and careful irrigation in an area that gets only eight to nine inches of rain a year.

All in stark contrast to Oregon, the other state participating in Pacific Peaks & Vines. There a more temperate, rainier microclimate close to the ocean is more suitable for the cultivation of Chardonnay and especially Pinot Noir. I was particularly impressed at the Manchester Side Street tasting by examples from Willamette Valley stalwarts Stoller.

Between them Oregon and Washington account for seven per cent of US production volumes, exports to the UK are growing but still tiny and we are talking premium prices, an average of £40 a bottle.

If Willamette Pinot remains my target tipple I can now see the attraction of both ‘twin peaks’ of North Coast viticulture

Cherry pie is on the menu in the real-life Twin Peaks

And you thought Twin Peaks was just a hugely acclaimed TV show, created by David Lynch, who died last month. It’s also coincidentally the name given to wineries in Western Australia, California’s Sonoma and Mallorca while its star, Kyle MacLachlan himself dabbles in the wine trade with his private label, Pursued by Bear.

I’d like to think his Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon offers hints of cherry pie on the nose. That pie, in the company of “damn fine coffee”, was the chosen treat of MacLachlan’s character, Agent Dale Cooper.

Naturally, on our last visit to Washington State, we sampled both in the hotel that stood in for the Great Northern Hotel in David Lynch’s surreal TV series. We had been based in Yakima, epicentre of the Yakima Valley wine and hop-growing region, an hour’s drive to the west of Red Mountain.

The Salish Lodge was our lunchtime stop-off heading further west towards Seattle. After the desert climate of Yakima, we hit big rain crossing the Cascades range. The mountain murk was so dense we couldn’t even get a view of 14,411ft Mount Rainier, the USA’s fifth highest and one of the world’s great standalone peaks (we glimpsed it later from the equally iconic Space Needle in Seattle).

After slaloming down forested switchbacks it was a relief to reach Salish Lodge perched on the brink of the Snoqualmie Falls, one of Washington’s big visitor draws. The famous waterfall there, swollen by those rains, was in full spate as the clouds cleared enough for a proper view from the terrace path of, where we were booked in for lunch at its Attic restaurant.

First though we had to investigate this luxury inn’s Twin Peaks souvenir shop. Echoing some Lynchlike plot twist, one of the stars of the original and the recent follow-up series, Harry Dean Stanton, had died the previous day.

It was a mark of respect to a great actor that, after oysters, clams and stone hearth fired pizza, we had to find room for that pie.

What are the secrets of biodynamic wine?

Biodynamics is often referred to as ‘super-charged organic’. Rather than simply reducing chemical inputs, biodynamic production is a proactive attempt to bring life to the soil with the use of natural composts and organic preparations.

It’s more than just an agricultural system, rather an altered world view that then impacts on the practice of agriculture. Winemakers drawn to this philosophy tend to be creative, spiritual types, deeply connected to their land and always experimenting to see what works best.

Demeter biodynamic certification is the reward for going down this radical route, which forbids chemical fertilisers, pesticides, herbicides or fungicides. Instead insect life and spiders are encouraged to control pests; manure encourages organic growth. After hand-harvesting the grapes the wine is produced in a gravity-fed cellar without winemaking additives. Ambient yeasts are used, with no or scant sulfites and no fining.

More controversially all significant vineyard activities – soil preparation, planting, pruning, harvesting – are done in accordance with the influence on earth by the moon, stars and planets. Finally, the aspect that can spark scepticism – the use of nine preparations 500-508 (a bit like homeopathy), using plants such as nettles, dandelion and chamomile, to be applied in powdered form or as sprays. And then there is the afore-mentioned Preparation 500.

One French winemaker of my acquaintance wrote of the Steiner strictures: “It is important to understand that 50 percent is symbolic and 50 percent is real… it all helps focus.”

All of which reminds me of a memorable trip to Ted Lemon’s Littorai winery in Sonoma, California. In Ted’s absence his young deputy confessed to not being a total convert to biodynamics (the perfection of the Pinot Noir was proof enough for us). And yet, as he put it, “It sure does make you pay attention.”

The damn good wines of Hedges Family Estate sure grabbed mine.

• A range of Hedges Family Estate Wines is available in the UK from Guildford-based sustainable merchant Wine & Earth.

14 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Restaurants

The Sampa basement tapes – Caroline Martins’ 10 Brazilian food tips

At the end of a copacetically intimate Chef’s Table dinner deep under Manchester’s Northern Quarter our host, Caroline Martins, whispered to me that liquid nitrogen was back on her S AMPA bucket list. Which might mean the return of the psychedelic Jackson Pollock inspired dessert that wowed the crowd at the supper club she used to run at Blossom Street Social in Ancoats.

Maybe you recall this Brazilian chef’s signature splatfest on a platter that owed as much to the visual alchemy of Chicago super chef Grant Achatz as Pollock’s Abstract Expressionist peak.

Our gourmet chihuahua Captain Smidge admired it from a distance. He wasn’t allowed a taste of the basil custard and coconut yoghurt scrawled across a huge black base or the dotted cubes of coconut candy, cassava biscuit and guava/banana candy. Definitely too rich for him the centrepiece – a smashed ‘bowl of, containing passion fruit mousse, rose petals, coconut granola, meringue and marshmallow.

Not just any chocolate. This was Dormouse, crafted inside the Great Northern by the city’s artisan chocolatier par excellence, Isobel Carse, using imported Brazilian cocoa beans. Great to see it remains a constant now Caroline has shifted her operation to Calcio on Dale Street, the sports she runs with husband Tim. It comes in the shape of another edible artwork – a chocolate and guava ‘mushroom’ mimicking a fly agaric.

That was the dessert climax of a 12 course tasting menu, served in the basement of the bar – remarkable value at £58 a head (drinks pairing, mostly Latin American wines and spirits just £35, mixed cachaças £35, soft £25). When we first visited the new venue the former Great British Menu contestant had cornered off a section of the screen-filled bar proper; the new set-up is far less distracting.

Still, when I nipped upstairs for a ‘comfort break’ midway through I came upon a screen showing the Championship derby between Preston and my team, Blackburn Rovers. I might have been torn if the feast that was being served down the stairs was not so captivating. Eight diners at a counter, close to the kitchen action, being talked through ingredients and techniques with a vivacious passion.

In this latest manifestation of her talent Caroline, a former scientist from São Paulo, has restrained the molecular gastronomy wizardry without sacrificing the intense flavour profiles. Less showy now but her devotion to the exotic produce of her South American food heritage is, if anything, more evident.

She is keen to point out: “It is a deeply personal project, blending the rich culinary traditions of my hometown (Sampa was the city’s nickname), with incredible local ingredients and suppliers.”

Evidence the ex-dairy cow ribeye sourced from cutting edge Littlewoods butchers in Heaton Chapel, out of which she conjured a remarkable steak experience. A big shout out also for the locally traceable ‘Dan and the Bees’ raw honey, Chalkstream smoked trout and, further afield Eduardo Souza ethical foie gras from Spain’s Extremadura region. I first read about the latter in Dan Barber’s groundbreaking The Third Plate.

Key ingredients on the above menu, though, come from Brazil. I couldn’t resist requesting her to talk me through them.

Requeijão

“That’s a Brazilian-style cream cheese we make in the house by splitting whey/curd from Jersey milk using lime juice. After that, I emulsify the curd using butter. That’s a very traditional technique from in the state of Minas Gerais in Brazil. It goes well and is spreadable for bread and toast, but it also goes well with smoked fatty fish – that’s why I used it with smoked chalkstream trout.”

Cassava

“A Brazilian tuberculous vegetable. It’s very starchy and grows well in tropical countries. In Brazil we use more cassava than potatoes. I like to employ it in different forms. For the scallops I made a puree and used as a mousseline. We like to use it as a crumble for meats and fish (farofa). During summer it makes natura, chopped with mayo – like a potato salad.”

Biquinho pepper

“That’s a variety of chilli pepper used in Brazil but not very common to see here in the UK. They are sweet and fruity, with very mild hot notes. I like to use them because they are mild and don’t interfere with the flavours from other ingredients. They are also easy to ferment and preserve. I get my biquinhos fresh from Brazil and ferment them in 3 per cent brine for 1 month. After that, I preserve them in sugar cane vinegar. With a smoked quail egg they made a perfect canapé.”

Heart of palm

“In Brazil we use the whole palm tree: the fruits for palm oil, the leaves to make recyclable plates/cups/forks for takeaways. We use the cores of the tree (heart-of-palm) by cooking them for hours in a pressure cooker until tender, then preserve in 3 per cent brine. I like to use heart of palm with scallops because the texture and mild sweetness reminds me of scallops.

Guava

“Delicious tropical fruit – I usually see white-flash guavas here in Europe. But in Brazil we only use the pink-flesh guava. That’s my favourite fruit. I grew up eating guava fresh from the trees. In Brazil we use it fresh, or we make a paste called goiabada. For your meal I used fresh pink-flesh guava as an ice cream for dessert and also goiabada on top of the Extremadura foie gras.”

Acai berry

“That’s a berry from Amazonia, rich in antioxidants. Some people say they are one of those “superfoods” hence there are so many businesses profiting from acai bowls. In Brazil they are traditionally served with fish as pastes, marinades or in sauces, etc… With the hake I served it as a caponata by marinating black olives in acai puree and then chopping it. The ‘earthy’ notes from acai complement fishes such as hake that have mild fat content.”

Brazilian green fig

“Brought to Brazil by the Portuguese when they colonised us. It’s a green fig slow cooked for hours in sugar syrup, then preserved in the same syrup. When we make it, I like to shave some cumaru (tonka bean) in the syrup to add another tasting dimension to the preparation.”

Canjica

“It’s a white corn, traditionally used in sweet preparations, but I’ve also been using it in savoury dishes. You had it cooked as a risotto, with lots of butter. I love the texture and the neutral flavour profile. It complements strong meats such as the wild mallard duck. I’ve been growing koji on canjica and it’s starting to taste great! I might use it as a petit four by dipping it in dark chocolate (inspired by chef Gareth Ward from Ynyshir. He does it with barley).”

Coalho

“Colaho is a popular Brazilian cheese similar to paneer in texture. Everyone barbecues it because it does not melt away under strong heat. It’s usually served with steak in barbecues, that’s why I wanted to use it with the dairy cow ribeye, mixing it with winter truffle to stuff a raviolo.

Pão de queijo

“A Brazilian cheese bread made from cassava flour, eggs, milk and cheese. In Brazil we use ‘canastra cheese’, but here in the UK I like to use mild cheddar. It’s one of the staples of Brazilian gastronomy. Each family has their own recipe. Mine comes from my grandmother Thereza. She lived in the state of Minas Gerais (where pão de queijo was invented).”

SAMPA Brazilian-British Fusion Chef’s Table ,Calcio bar, 24 Dale Street, Manchester, M1 1FY.

9 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Restaurants

Winsome restaurant looks a perfect showcase for top chef Shaun Moffat

It was a wild boar that brought us together – in the shape of a glorious Barnsl ey chop. The dish confirmed the impressive culinary credentials of Shaun Moffat, then head chef at The Edinburgh Castle.

Hence this rhapsody: “I enjoyed one of the great meat dishes of my life upstairs at the EC – a wild boar Barnsley chop. Proper beef dripping chips and mixed kale on the side and a big puddle of Shaun’s sauce, concocted from a stock from duck carcass and pig trotters, mirepoix and herbs, then reduced and infused with pepper dulse, lemon thyme and a snifter of Julian Temperley’s Somerset Cider brandy (we enjoyed a shot later with our post-prandial madeleines).”

Such prowess earned the Ancoats hostelry a swift entry into the Top 50 Gastropubs and Shaun Chef of the Year at the 2023 Manchester Food and Drink Awards. As a senior judge I had a say in the latter.

Shaun also oversaw stablemate The Lamb of Tartary. When that shut last year he jumped ship for glitzy Manchester newcomers Maya. Small world: its chef Gabe Lea swapped to the Castle, where tenures have been as brief as Watford football managers’. Shaun’s talented predecessors included Iain Thomas (The Pearl) and Julian Pizer (Another Hand) were both Best Chef contenders at the recent MFDF Awards. I understand Gabe may be moving on, too.

*An ebullient Shaun celebrates winning Manchester Chef of the Year*

A Winsome welcome for the wild boar whizz

Against this rollercoaster backdrop it’s great to seeShaun reemerging as Chef Patron of an exciting new Manchester city centre restaurant opening this spring. It’s called Winsome (maybe not a name for your pet wild boar but hey) and promises ‘Northern hospitality at its heart… British cooking in the kitchen, Old World wines on the shelves, passion, care and detail in delivery.”

You’ll find Winsome on Princess Street (adjoining the Whitworth Locke Hotel) it sounds a perfect fit for the Moffat magic in the way that Maya wasn’t. The dream is to replicate the quality of previous stand-outs on his cv – the London likes of St Leonards, John Salt Hix (all now shut), Berber & Q and the marvellous Manteca.

The next step, Winsome, will provide him with a team geared for similar excellence.

*Shaun flanked by and Tom Fastiggi and Owain Willliams*

The drinks programme is in the expert hands of Tom Fastiggi, previously of Schofield’s Bar and extends into Whitworth Locke’s Atrium hotel bar, which excites Fastiggi: “The Atrium space truly gives a unique feel to this bar. It’s a great new addition to Manchester’s hospitality scene.”

Completing the team will be Owain Williams; founder of Belzan in Liverpool, Madre and Manchester’s Medlock Canteen.

7 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby