Life in a country facing all the Atlantic Ocean is able to throw at you means the weather is a continual topic of interest.
On a recent visit to Dublin, The Brazen Head pub, the oldest in all of Ireland, offered invaluable advice built on 8 centuries of experience…
Until we speak again, remember in Dublin all four seasons often happen… in the same day!
What comes to mind when you think of New Orleans? Maybe voodoo rituals around the Witch Queen Marie Laveau, or the above ground cemeteries (because much of the city is below sea level). For some, it’s the pissheads theme park that is half of Bourbon Street. For others, it’s the deep culture revolving around a quality combination of music, food, and more sophisticated imbibing.
My advice… always join the ‘others’! There is an enchanting and somewhat chaotic elegance that emerges out of so much of what this city represents. Above all else, this is an authentic place… as unAmerican as an American city can be. It’s almost as though the Louisiana Purchase came with a covenant… that this city is and always will be Nu Awlings, come what may!
For a start, just check out the calming backdrop of the National Museum of Jazz performance venue. Here are the enchanting Belinda Moody Trio…
The creative spark is visible wherever you wish to find it. Avant garde jazz or the raw power of a Grammy award winning brass ensemble are available on successive nights at Snug Harbor…
Even the street scene exudes an eloquent passion in its music. Take Royal Street at lunchtime, for example. Doreen and the guys would easily seduce your musical inclinations for nothing more than a drop of cash in the bucket…
The finest of dining has been explored in previous posts. However, it is also supplemented with signature favourites, such as the Palace Cafe unique Crabmeat Cheesecake. As elegant a dish as you would wish for… and the subtelty of that creole muniere sauce could defuse any international conflict.
So, what about the intoxicating element of this entrancing city? Big Ass Beers on Bourbon look more like something that should come with a geiger counter attached. If you want something more sophisticated, try the Roosevelt Hotel famous Sazerac Bar to sample the world’s first cocktail…
Or maybe Hotel Montelione is the place for you… waiting to take a seat on the Carousel Bar? Surprisingly, they do a Sazerac, as well as a Cosmopolitan.
But if you’re looking for a real blast, why not drop in on Pat O’Brien’s for a Hurricane or a Fuzzy Leprechaun. Beware, the former packs a quadruple rum (amongst other things), while the latter packs a double vodka (also, amongst other things). Elegance can sometimes come with a cerebral challenge if one is just not quite enough!
Until we speak again, remember that elegance may come with not doing that which you’ve done before!
Ineligence also comes with its own warnings…
History didn’t end when us white Europeans colonised the already populated lands we know of as America. But we do occasionally have an arrogant tendency to look on these parts as too young by comparison if they try to claim historical context.
Take the Treme district of New Orleans, for example. The widely recognised birthplace of jazz also happens to be the oldest Black neighbourhood in the USA. 212 years and counting is good going. You may not find any ruined centuries old castles here, but if you open your mind, then walking these streets inspires imagination.
As a neighbourhood, Treme likes to wear its pride prominently on its sleeve. History emerges from a wealth of creative people and culture with memories that reverberate down the generations.
Alongside a thirst for knowledge all of this walking can generate an appetite. Talking of which… Dooky Chase’s is right on hand and remains a must for Southern Fried Chicken at its best… particularly with sides of stewed okra & mustard greens.
For many visitors to NOLA, the French Quarter just may be all they see or struggle with their vision after many hours imbibing on Bourbon Street. Pre-inebriation historical appreciation can still be indulged, for example, a stroll by what claims to be the oldest bar in the US (Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar). But, look forward and look up in order to appreciate that mix of classic French/Spanish architectural styles.
And when that stomach rumbles to a beckoning tune, you’re spoiled for choice with fabulous restaurants populating the area. On this auspicious occasion, Antoine’s Restaurant on St Louis Street provides a perfect blend of historical setting and fine dining.
It’s a shame that eating the full menu wasn’t physically an option, so I had to be satisfied with a cup of Seafood Gumbo, Grilled Pompano Fish, and their signature Pecan Bread Pudding. An armtwisting got me to accept a French Medoc off the burgundy list. But don’t let the erstwhile ‘enforcer’ know I said it was a great choice.
And so to the Garden District, with all its horticultural finery on display. There is no shortage of historic opulence here. Just let your imagination cast its own spells as you wonder who lived in these great residences over the years. A few have their historic occupants named on metal plaques to indulge your curiosity.
And, any district affording the donation of the following building as a public library isn’t doing too bad for itself.
Still feeling peckish after a mesmerising meander around ‘the Garden‘? Why not make a reservation (months in advance) for the iconic Commanders Palace.
Once again, the food was otherworldly… just don’t ask about our experience of the service as it failed to match the incredibly high expectations we brought to the table. The Turtles were sure doing what they did best… with the help of an ostentatious splash au Sherry at the table! The Chargrilled Jerk Spiced Duroc Pork Chop was simply steak-like in its presence and undoubtedly the best chop I’ve ever tasted… with special thanks to the provider, I hope they enjoyed the life dedicated to this moment.
And, yes, he who doesn’t often do deserts was diving into another Creole Bread Pudding Souffle affair… this time with warm whiskey cream.
Until we speak again, dive into your history with a passion equal to your culinary fascinations. But beware of unexpected pyrotechnics… when they ask if you like your food ‘hot’, this wasn’t what I had in mind.
Yrs, you read that right… as my skydiving days are definitely a few decades ago! Funchal is all about looking up. Surrounded by mountains, with steep hills very much in evidence throughout the city itself, elevation is key to the whole experience.
For the fabulous tropical gardens of Monte or the botanical gardens of Jardim, there is only one way to travel…
And the payoff is every bit as high as the altitude…
The amount of climbing can be hungry and thirsty work. So, step forward the Galaxia Skybar and restaurant in the Savoy Palace Hotel to maintain that elevated theme…
A la Carte fine dining comes with an elevated price tag… but limpets with seaweed, baby lamb with truffles and yam, and all sorts of local produce done with unique twists create the unique experience; and tuna and egg never tasted quite like this at Chez Juno in Cardiff!
Desert just needed to be an extra glass of a particularly fine Portuguese red wine from the vineyards of the Douro region. But caution is needed when taking in all you survey after a particularly fine meal with delicious wine…
Until we speak again, it’s back to the chill and gloom of late winter, tinged with the memories of a taste of summer in February (yes, I know it’s always summer in February in Australia!)…
In these days of dreadful corporate scandal, it’s good to have a positive post office story! [For any readers outside of the UK just Google ‘UK Post Office Scandal & Fujitsu‘, grab your popcorn, and settle in for a real life horror story!].
Meanwhile, back in the land of minor horror stories (i.e. Cardiff), a place where a good few fabulous old Victorian buildings are left to rot presumably until they fall down of their own accord… Listed Building or not! The former Head Post Office was completed in 1897 built in The Dutch Revival style. It ceased its function as a post office in 1983, briefly became a British Telecom hub for bureaucrats before those with great power and little imagination decided it should be left empty for 20+ years.
Now, as the Parkgate Hotel, a great building breathes new life; and another presumably ideal location for a bland office or multi-storey car park has thwarted the ideals of the town planners. [As a former town planner I say three cheers to that!].
Stepping off a damp Westgate Street into the reception area you’re greeted with a large and brightly lit welcome, at the centre of which is a modern chandelier. Well, I guess even the riches they robbed off poor innocent postmasters and postmistresses probably couldn’t stretch to restoring the original!
The restaurant off to the right side of the reception area is aptly named The Sorting Room in keeping with a previous use. Where’s the imagination? those downtrodden town planners yell at me! There’s always room for a nostalgic reflection of past uses, my dears; not everything has to be in pursuit of destroying historical reference!
But, as those innocent victims of corporate greed and institutional incompetence contemplate their years in bland cells, behind bars, pleading their innocence, what can us luckier mortals expect? Well, the spacious wood panelled room provides an excellent setting for sipping a nice Rioja while perusing the interesting menu. Not bread and water rationing for us, oh no!
Smoked Mediterranean Octopus and Penderyn Single Malt Welsh Whiskey Cured Salmon for starters. Former upstanding post office people might well be thinking what they can spend their viciously hard earned compensation on (if they lived to see it, that is). Well, a little bit of squid ink sponge, chorizo, tempura samphire, roasted garlic and herb oil will help the octopus to dance delicately across the taste buds. As for the salmon… Brecon vodka creme fraiche, deep fried avocado, pickled cucumber and a fresh mini loaf are set to tempt those beauties of the deep to swim back upstream into the catchments of emporia of fine dining.
Yes, my reader… if you’re of the pile it high and shovel it down (i.e. all-you-can-eat buffet) bent, look-away now. This is one of those strange places where large areas of porcelain (slate/wood/whatever the current fashion) are on show. This is where incredible flavours blend to satisfy exquisite tastes, leaving you more than fulfilled by the experience.
Good service can be identified by the time they allow between courses… though clearly not the length of time the post office/governments of the day/Fujitsu had in mind when torturing innocent workers who had dedicated their lives to serving their local communities.
So for the main event… I’m not sure what noises octopus and salmon make, but it was definitely time for an Oink & Quack show. Slow Cooked Pork Belly & Crackling and a Pan Roasted Garlic & Thyme British Chicken Breast would just have to offer up their sacrifices for this particular table… with a shared side of Thyme & Honey Roasted Root Vegetables… For the record, the belly pork arrived with toffee apple, smoked carrot puree, chorizo jam, sticky red cabbage, Pommes Anna, and Welsh cider sauce, and it was definitely slow cooked… but not as slow as the aforementioned post office employees would recognise as the definition of the word ‘slow’. The chicken had to make do with being brined in Welsh beer, with Tatws Pum Munud, confit onions, leek and bacon lardons, crispy chicken crackling, Welsh rarebit, confit chicken croquette, and Glamorgan ale jus.
Now, if you were left to rot in a jail cell for something you were entirely innocent of, just so those higher ups in society don’t lose a little face (or a few quid for their daily fine dining excursions), you might well be wondering how do they get all of this stuff onto the plate? Well, somehow they do, and even find room for the pan of gravy to reside by the awaiting nosh. Amazing!
Until we speak again, who needs the pan pipes to serenade away such a great dining experience when you can improvise your own instrument? Just don’t forget your humanity, and save the water and the mini loaf of bread for the poor unfortunates who had their whole lives stolen from them by a bunch of lying, cheating, disgraceful and despicable rich and entitled b*$t@*%s.
It’s not exactly the welcome you expect when splashing the cash on some quality nosh. But, if you happen to be splashing something else, you may just be rubbing shoulders with this guy…
The Guardian of the Gent’s surely isn’t meant to provide the highlight of a visit to Ivy Asia. After all, he is resting beyond the prying eyes of many visiting punters.
It may be borrowing on a famous name from London restaurant culture. It could even be a barely disguised financial trading up on the aforementioned cultural icon. But, the Ivy Asia is still a relatively recent addition to the Cardiff dining scene, adding some distant exotic colour to the supposedly bland indigenous cuisine.
And oh, what colour it adds…
Whilst disposable chop sticks greet you at the table, sunglasses may be a useful implement for aiding the dining experience. Talking of which… what is the dining experience? Essentially, Asia sums it up… a fusion of cuisines from across a sub-continent.
As a group of diners, we were trading up from our previous meetings over fry-ups in South Wales Valleys caff culture! Here, the challenge is to make some sense of a menu written in English, but not necessarily the language we were more familiar with. Blindly sticking a pin in the menu to make a choice would probably be just as rewarding as trying to decifer the range of what was being offered.
Ultimately, we each went to seek guidance from the aforementioned Guardian… and then stuck a pin in the menu. For the record, we side-stepped the more exotic options to settle on vaguely familiar choices of Szechuan Chicken, Duck Spring Rolls, Beef & Lamb Skewers, and Steamed Rice. And all were deliciously presented and in taste.
As it was a celebration brunch, my own phobia for desserts needed to be overcome. Passionfruit donuts, and Lychee, Mango & Chocolate were instantly snapped up by the others. For me, something called The Green Lantern sounded in keeping with the ambience of the place. If I told you what was in it, I’d be causing a stampede to the place…
Until we speak again, beware of strange men in unexpected places! At least remember the tried and trusted British welcome… who are you looking at!
What is it about churches, well cathedrals really, that draws me like a magnet? Quite simple, really, they just knew how to build something spectacular back in the day. Take Stephansdom in Vienna, for example…
I’m sure there is something important about the religious trappings and paraphernalia, at least for some people. I personally just don’t subscribe. A bit like Facebook, really, it’s populated with people and events that simply don’t attract my attention.
As for Peterskirche, a short walk from the cathedral, it provides a fabulous backdrop for a Vienna Classical Ensemble concert. The idea that I might sing a hymn and listen to a sermon would never present a cause for temptation.
Moving onto Prague, the imposing St Vitus Cathedral is yet another built in an imposing top of a hill position (c.f. Lincoln Cathedral in the UK). Located alongside Prague Castle, this one requires you to climb several flights of stone steps to arrive at the front door…
… but beware, if you want the fabulous views of the city there is a further few hundred spiral steps up the south tower (they hadn’t heard of lifts back in the day, and for authenticity, and lack of suitable space, they still haven’t!).
However, Prague did entice me with a religious experience (each of the three nights)… the AghaRTA jazz club had all the architectural trappings of a subversive underground religion…
Until we speak again, enjoy your religion, enjoy good architecture, and when the two combine… feel free to worship!
Forget the commercial angle where purveyors of tat try to get you to part with your cash for stuff you don’t need. After all, they need money at Christmas as well… just not yours if you’re savvy enough. These events are more of a celebration… a time to eat, drink, be merry, and yes, part with your cash for a noble cause… your own enjoyment and that of those who happen to be special to you!
As an idea, Christmas markets go back a long way… traditionally established in German speaking European nations, and much later adopted by many other countries around the world. After all, if it’s a good idea, why not nick it (there’s a Santa pun in there for some of you).
So, where did it all start… why, Vienna, of course. The oldest and largest dates back to the 13th century. Today, it boasts up to 20 separate Christmas markets around the city! The largest is at Rathaus Park in front of the old town hall…
Meanwhile, another forms a ring around the Stephansdom Cathedral… well, you need to have some tenous link between your visceral pleasures and the religious connotations of the time of year…
Dresden and Frankfurt may want to make various claims of age and size… go ahead, but Vienna takes the prize with this correspondent (and independent historians, apparently).
As for non Germanic countries, take your pick, as many understandably have adopted a good idea for celebrating, just because people like doing it. For me, it was Prague that would provide a second stop on a whistle-stop tour of European capitals leading up to Christmas.
Here, there are two focal points for slurping the Gluwein. The first is in the old town hall square (there’s a theme emerging here of markets and old seats of local government)… who knows why or even cares after a few Santa boots of the hot stuff!
Then there is the ribbon-like affair stretching up Wensaclas Square (town halls being replaced by the national museum in this case)…
Until we speak again, raise a cup to the festive time of year. Merry Christmas to my loyal reader, wherever you are!
From wherever you’re arriving, air, rail, tram, and bus services will deliver you very efficiently to the centre of this UNESCO World Heritage Site. But, once you get there, only one form of transport will do, and that’s… walking! It’s the only way to take in what this well-preserved city offers the discerning traveller.
Riga is definitely a feast for the senses, but don’t feel too concerned for the man with the world’s most enormous haemorrhoids… he’s still providing every passer-by nothing less than a jolly welcome…
Feeling lost? If at any time you’re feeling like you’re away with the birds… well, Riga has a neatly organised solution. Check out the colourful tree in one of the central parks, as here you’ll find one of the biggest collections of bird boxes……..
Then, when you’re lost for somewhere to park your spare zeppelins, check out the amazing Riga Central Market. Yes, back in the day, the 5 pavilions that now provide a home to Europe’s largest indoor market once provided the ideal hangars for WW1 military airships.
Meanwhile, strolling by the Dome Cathedral, if you suddenly feel peckish, they have a unique menu presentation (aka The Town Musicians of Bremen)… a strange sculpture based on a Brothers Grimm tale… apparently, rubbing the animals’ noses brings good luck!
Walking the city can be thirsty work, but no fear, if you need a reminder of essential Latvian culture, they will be happy to offer you a hint…
A House of Blackheads doesn’t sound like a healthy attraction. But this historic site dates back to the 14th century. However, what you see is the 1990s replica, the original having succumbed to some Nazi/Soviet target practice and demolition games through the 1940s. With several uses across time, it is now mainly a museum, but the basement is apparently an original part of underground Riga (see also a previous post on dining in Medieval Riga).
Then again, if you’re into collecting stuff, they’ve already got you covered… well, they’ve got a wall covered, at least. Regional badges from across the country. And to add to any local rivalry, the neighbouring Powder Tower provides an explosive mix… a place that the Swedish occupants of bygone years literally blew up through a combination of design & storage ineptitude…
For historic architecture, Riga spans numerous centuries… just ask The Three Brothers… well, only if talking to buildings is your thing…….
However, if Art Nouveau architecture is your thing, Riga has a delightful district of the stuff…
But, not everywhere is as stunning. No photographs provided, but one of the most boring buildings just happens to house the highly fascinating Museum of the Occupation of Latvia. If you’re of a Russian or Nazi persuasion, lookaway now… for this is a detailed exploration of Latvian courage and determination in the face of occupation and oppression across the majority of the 20th century. It’s an emotional story of human resistance against invaders attempting to completely obliterate Latvian culture and identity.
Riga offers an interesting take on this beauty in tension, being the home to the Freedom Monument…
While in close proximity, there is the Russian Orthodox Church… photograph it from the outside, because inside is a clear message to look but don’t snap! Ever wondered where your lost gold ended up?
Then again, sometimes it just pays to walk. Turn any corner, tilt your head back, and look up… Riga provides more than its fair share of well-preserved historic beauty…
Until we speak again, Riga also reminds you to spare a thought for the precarious nature of being a cat!
On a recent trip to Riga, I have to admit the write-ups about Latvian cuisine may have been on the up… but still not gripping my taste buds and demanding my undivided attention. Though the local dark breads are dense but tasty enough to definitely be leaders in their particular league.
So, my very own personal guide to the city stepped in with a vote for Georgia. The name Alaverdi might be giving off an Italian vibe to the casual observer, but look a little closer and give yourself up to that ‘Taste of Georgia‘ hint at what could be. We’re early, so plenty of choice of tables…
In my limited experience, Georgian red wines are hidden gems overshadowed by the European heavyweights bordering the Mediterranean. A glance at the wine menu here (see in the previous ‘Taste of Georgia’ link) lets you know you’re encountering a country with a serious approach to its falling over water!
So, where to start when it comes to the food? Khinkhali is the Georgian way of doing dumplings; and when they come filled with veal and lamb who could possibly refuse? The visual and textural presentation may be something you wipe your hands on after a particularly messy encounter with a seafood dish, but don’t be put off by first impressions. However, the Dolma with Duck with rice, greens and spices, supplemented by pomegranate seeds in a light spicy sauce… this was a dish that does wonderfully messy things with your mind, not with your hands! Suffice to say, when Donald met Dolma (that’s Donald Duck, not the orange fart in America version) the world became an altogether better place.
A main event to savour would be a difficult challenge for any chef after that dolma sensation of a starter. But, the idea of Beef Tenderloin Medallions with potato gratin and demi-glace sauce; well, that certainly provided the pomegranate bridge from the first course to the main, with a further wow factor baked in. The Pork Neck Shashlik on lavash with vegetable caviar, red onion and satsebeli sauce gave the whole event further depth and breadth befitting a new country’s cuisine to add to my taste bud travels.
This had already developed into a meal you don’t want to see ending. My trusty guide was in the mood for dessert… a cheesecake with a difference of stewed in red wine cherries, spices and caramelised pistachio with a few raspberries on the side as a nod to healthier times.
Me, I’m not habitually inclined towards the dessert section of any menu, so it was time to add a Riga essential to my local experience… a glass of Riga Black Balsam… not for the faint-hearted. No, that isn’t an extra glass of wine as dessert this time… It’s the national drink of Latvia, more of a 45% proof affair, purely imbibed for medicinal purposes, of course… a herbaceous floral thing, with a liquorice, lime, ginger, mix and no doubt a hefty kick. Like Coca Cola very few people know its exact recipe. Unlike Coca Cola it’s best used for an after meal digestif, rather than a toilet bowl cleaner!
Until we speak again, Georgia is definitely still on my mind. With this taste of some of what the country has to offer, it might well be under my feet sometime soon!
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