Bill who?

Posted on October 16, 2015 by Steve Morgan

It’s all in a name, or so they say. After all, I’m Bella, or am I? I wasn’t called Bella a couple of months ago; I just happened to take on new staff, and they decided to give me this name in preference to what they call me all the time anyway… Puss!

Enough about me… eh, did I really say that!? Anyway, back to my main role of educating you humans in the ways of Cardiff. So, there I was, minding everyone else’s business as I meandered through the Victorian arcades, when a sign from above left me with the kind of ambiguity that signs from above usually do.

“Bill who“, I instantly pondered. Or would that be William in a posher locale? Perhaps it’s Billy in a more playful parallel universe. Then my mind went into overdrive: Shakespeare… no; The Kid… no; Clinton… no; Wild of Hickok fame… no. Then it dawned on me, it’s not a person after all, it’s those things that the resident ‘failed accountant’ hides away in a draw marked ‘do not disturb’. I surmised it must be the place in the arcade where you pay for everything else in the arcade, but apparently not.

I thought I would take a wider perspective on the conundrum, only to become even more, uncharacteristically for me, confused…

I suddenly realised that Mediterranean influences had taken such a hold on Cardiff that we were now being instructed by another sign saying ‘Ask Italian‘! Cos’e questo? I meowed in my best Milanese dialect. But the only response from the natives seemed to be something along the lines of an exclamatory ‘wos occurrin’ yer?’

All became clear when you take the more educated view from the library side of the issue…

We’re talking about an eating emporium, and as much as I would prefer to conduct my investigations inside, this was going to have to be an instruction for my ‘food-taster general‘ (you don’t know how much it bothers my brain-cells to even consider allocating such an important function to the ‘in-house numpty’). Lucky for me, the junior numptys’ were about to visit for some ’round object kicking competition’, so they would all be dispatched immediately after the game to masticate on the morsels that Bill might be able to conjure up.

The decor seems all a bit too cluttered and deliberately mismatched, but hopefully designed so you focus more on the food and less on the surroundings. Candles were a nice twist to light a semi-darkened alcove seating just the one table for four (though ‘Numpty Major’ decided it was in honour of the home team beating that of the junior visitors).

The menu is not overly cluttered for one of the many modern American influenced eateries that occupy many a British 21st century high street. Starters include some over-sized home-cooked nachos (actually spiced corn tortillas with a nice kick, accompanied by tzatziki, guacamole and salsa dips).

But then for the main prize… when you’re not in America don’t do what the Americans don’t… or nothing like what that says! A tasty plate of b-b-q pork ribs provided a delicious melt-in-the-mouth surprise treat with a tasty side of slaw (though you can get real chips around the corner in Caroline Street!). As for the football vanquished juniors’, it was a lime and coriander chicken and a fish dish from the specials board as a consolation.

Apparently Bill’s gets a thumbs up for the food and overall ambience, and once again I get to savour what could have been!

Until we speak again I promise to be Bella, and you can be whoever you want to be.

A French Connection

Posted on October 3, 2015 by Steve Morgan

As a consumate carnivore my drug of choice is fillet steak. I’m led to believe that France portrays itself as the world’s leading dealer of my favourite fix, but why should a Cardiff cat, a creature of home comforts, need to contemplate long distance adventures for such a top quality fix?

Little was I to know that a casual glance out of the window while emerging from my Central Library slumbers might just have provided an answer to my cravings, also eliminating the potential travel challenges.

A closer look is needed…

That distinct Cote lettering tells me we are talking French connections here, so I thought I would make use of the opportune visit of a couple of cats from Brighton as a cover for checking the joint out. The Cote Brasserie menu is not overly fussy, so we settle in with some olives and rustic bread while I search out that fillet steak.

I wait with great expectation as my steak is being prepared. My fellow cats are going for varieties of bird on the menu, but I have enough of the chicken at home in my bowl or when my in-house garçon deigns to patronise me with morsels of deli counter meats. The wait is worthwhile, as the steak looks perfect, the peppercorn sauce is tasty, the french beans are crunchy, and the chips satisfy (well, despite their claims the French can’t get everything perfect!).

Apparently the chargrilled breton chicken also gets the thumbs up. So, if you happen to be in Cardiff and need a fix of your favourite fillet style drug, Cote Brasserie on Mill Lane is well worth a visit. Until we speak again this Bella will be joining Popeye Doyle in successfully finding Frog One, and I might just check out French Connection I & II again.

Grazie mille

Posted on July 18, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Italy is known for many things but churches and food seem to occupy a generous amount of their culture. Juno always managed to recognise the food and religion combination, and as for most cats it usually took the form of a food-food combo!

Understandably, the Italian community in Cardiff would like to reflect the centuries of home-grown cultural significance, and Cafe Citta is a classic example of achieving that very same vibe. Located on Church Street, and in the shadows of the historic St. John’s Church, this is everything you would expect of a family-run Italian restaurant (and more).

Forget everything you know about the many Italian chain restaurants that litter our high streets. If it’s authentic you are looking for then this tiny little corner of Cardiff can offer almost everything that any corner in Italy can. The menu is reasonably brief and unfussy, which I have always found to be a good reflection of quality… focus on what you are really good at, don’t try to offer everything to everyone! If it’s not to your liking then you can always go trip over a ‘chain’ around the nearest corner.

This place is both small and extremely popular, so booking is almost always going to be essential…

With an open kitchen and wood-burning pizza oven the choice of main meals, after the olives and warm bread entre, wasn’t going to be a difficult choice. The specials board held many a temptation, but I had booked weeks in advance with the promise to my eating compatriot that Wales was going to come up with the superb pizza that our recent visit to Palermo had not! One Diavalo and one Quattro Stagioni for sharing between us were promptly ordered. A great combination of ham, spicy salami, artichokes, olives, peppers, mushrooms and some fiery chilli addition was just right as the Pinot Grigio was sliding down nicely.

The dough is expertly thrown in the open kitchen, and comes thin and crispy, but just right as a base for the cheese & tomato essentials topped off with the required fabulous array of ingredients. Pizza heaven had been ascended into!

Neither of us food protagonists have a sweet tooth, so desserts are not normally the order of the day. But this was the quintessential family owned and run restaurant, and they tempted us with the promise that everything they serve is home made. Italian trademark Tiramisu is something I have occasionally indulged in, so the decision was made…

… and yes, it was certainly home made and interestingly served up in a coffee cup. It proved to be a delicate and perfectly balanced end to a fabulous meal. Sambucca and an Italian Brandy were a natural compliment to the dessert, leaving two diners completely satisfied with a top class experience.

Until we speak again may all of your dining experiences be culturally crafted to the highest of standards.

The power of food

Posted on July 14, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Juno was an enlightened cat, but among all of the things she knew, the attraction of food was up there. So it was to be with the 2015 International Food Festival ‘down the bay’, as Cardiff once again plays cultural host to the wider world (who really cares about Ashes cricket a mile up the road?!).

What a difference a day makes in the world of eating, as the following pictures attempt to illustrate:

Before…

During…

Before…

During…

Before…

During…

The imagination was truly exercised through mouth-watering choices. The range of Welsh home produce was fully complimented by some English regional fare covering all kinds of cheese, pies, and ice-creams from predominantly south-west border locations. But the real essence of the whole event was provided by a much wider range of exotic cuisines, from ‘Persia‘ and Turkey, the Caribbean to India, with stunning contributions from the Iberian peninsula, Italy and Greece to represent the European Mediterranean countries.

For our personal delectation, this Wales-Trinidad delegation settled for a pig & goat combination to satisfy the taste buds… nothing like a goat curry with rice & salad to set up the prospect of a long walk around the bay. This was shared with a Jerk Pork & Dumplings combination. The home nations were not to be denied our patronage, as a completely unexpected take on the traditional sausage roll was to leave me never looking at this snack in quite the same way again! The thinnest of delicate pastry was to surround the thickest of tasty pork sausage and chilli, with an additional choice of pork and mushroom. These might have cost about double the standard sausage roll, but they say you get what you pay for… and more in this instance.

The packed crowd were continually entertained by a succession of musicians…

… but for us the heavy weight of the fabulous food, combined with the fire-breathing quality of the tiniest sip of the world’s strongest chilli vodka, required the little matter of a 5-mile stroll around the whole of Cardiff Bay, with a brief interruption provided by white-water rafting (but more of that in a later post)!

Until we speak again may your culinary encounters be sumptuous and exotic.

What to call it?

Posted on July 4, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Juno was always ready when food was on the agenda, delicately poised to catch any stray morsels of fish or meat…

But she was never easily fooled by her resident dreamer’s claim that Cardiff had a distinctly mediterranean vibe…

For all of the outdoor eating when the sun was shining, Juno was quite clear that Cardiff had a reputation for being the rainfall capital of the UK. She could think of no better reason for being an indoor cat. Meanwhile, us mere mortals went in search of sustenance on a sunny Sunday lunchtime…

Choice would not appear to be a problem, in the heart of a capital city centre. But discerning tastes were drifting away from dropping in on the ubiquitous chain restaurants that have come to dominate, making everywhere a carbon copy of everywhere else. Juno was a distinctly individual cat, and it was the legacy of her spirit that drove the food enthusiasts on in their search for a unique port of call. The question is, what might it be called amongst the sea of familiarity?

The Brewery Quarter has a certain liquidity about it, but Juno’s discerning tastes were more towards the vineyard than the brewery…

Still the question remained, would we know the place of supreme individuality when we saw it?

Caroline Street has achieved a certain world renown as ‘Chip Alley‘ for its succession of good old fashioned ‘chippies’, but we were not in the mood for a bag of chips and curry sauce while strolling by the somewhat more sophisticated diners (i.e. people sitting on chairs).

Perhaps if we looked to the corner of Caroline Street we might just find a source of inspiration…

Anyway, while we pondered what you might actually call a unique eatery with a prominent location, we decided that searching should give way to eating. It might have been a sunny Sunday, but that is no excuse for missing out on a Sunday roast of beef. And maybe a nod to Mediterranean culture with a bottle of fine Spanish Rioja…

Once refreshment was complete we were able to go back to the challenge of thinking what you might call a house on the corner of Caroline Street if you were projecting your distinctiveness in the sea of chains!

As for Juno, she would no doubt have been keeping watchful eyes on the idiots she was attempting to mentor! Until we speak again, if you find a Corner House it probably does what it says on the tin.

Pursuit of elegance

Posted on June 27, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Emerging from the docklands of London, and moving to the docklands of Cardiff instilled in Juno the deep rooted need to pursue something not easily equated with the streets of former industrial heartlands… the embodiment of elegance. The interpretation of indifference has often been too easily attributed to the demeanour of cats, whereas for Juno the cool cat exterior was simply her way of communicating the natural superiority she felt over the humans whose mission it was to serve her!

On my latest work trip back to the place of her origin… Newham, East London, I was determined that some of that elegant demeanour should rub off. I and my trusty companion journeyed forth through the Isle of Dog’s and Wapping’s of the former maritime powerhouse that was once the world famous London docks, in search of elegant vitals in sublime surroundings. In the depths of the memory banks reminiscence of one St. Katherine’s Dock kept re-surfacing:

A wide range of budgets and ethnic sources of restaurants and bars are available in these relaxing surroundings, but recent Turkish delights from Islington were over-powering the decision-making equipment, particularly when Kilikya’s Turkish Restaurant hove into sight, occupying a central position in one of the former dockside buildings.

The table offered a mesmerising view of water-bound tranquility…

… while the interior presented a subdued atmosphere conducive to the forthcoming art of consumption. The success of the pursuit had finally been confirmed by a casual glance at the wine menu, offering Cankaya, a Turkish white wine accurately described as dry, light
and elegant!

We had most definitely achieved that ‘mission accomplished’ vibe, and it was time to surrender to the inevitable Turkish delights on offer. A selection of succulent olives and side of flatbread set up the palate for a feast. Iskender Kebap, a mix of marinated cubed chicken & lamb delicately spiced with an addition of yoghurt, a Biber Dolma presented stuffed red peppers, and even chips to die for!

As a midsummers evening began to give up its visual splendour we had a last opportunity to take in the elegant surroundings we had enjoyed for the past couple of hours…

And all of this happened within the shadow of a true London architectural icons…

Until we speak again take Juno’s lead and bring some elegance into your life.

It is what colour?

Posted on June 21, 2015 by Steve Morgan

In my experience black cats are colourful in character, but there is seldom any question about confusion over their colour. Juno quickly had an eye for the colourful space, particularly one where she could survey all of the world around her from a perch on a chesterfield sofa.

But even she might have initially baulked at the idea of poppadom’s coming in a shade of purple! So, fortified by some good prior reviews, it was time for a friend and I to venture forth in search of the Purple Poppadom and search was the operative word, as this gem is easily missed as you stroll along the main Canton thoroughfare in Cardiff. Yes it is that tiny door to that place upstairs:

Once you have found it the welcome is warm and friendly, helped by booking a quiet time of the week (early Sunday evening). And the purple decor was of the restrained variety…

Whatever you think you know about Indian cuisine, leave it at the door, as a quick glance at the equally restrained menu initially leaves you wondering ‘what is that?’ But don’t get me wrong, the menu deserves time to be spent reading it to get the twists and signatures in the dishes; while possibly drinking out of Buddha shaped beer bottles!

A reference to a starter originating from the street food stalls of Lucknow was tempting. It is a bit like the UK ‘M&S Food’ supermarkets that go in for naming the place of origin as a means of elevating the recognition of their signature dishes. Venison Pao came delicately spiced, with melt-in-your-mouth minced meat, topped off with a fried egg. Not your standard Indian restaurant dish, but after a couple of mouthfuls I resolved never to eat anything but this for the rest of my life!

It would take something rather special to stop me from just repeating the starter order. Luckily this place has plenty more temptations where that one came from. Coconut rice and Peshwari Naan should have been relatively easy to choose, but there were a few other accompaniments running them close. The Kashmiri Roganjosh and Saag Gosht provided variations on lamb that once again can only be described as melt-in-the-mouth perfection.

For the record, the poppadom’s were not purple (but one of the accompanying chutneys was, alongside green and yellow varieties!)…

Juno would have been baffled, but we came out… replete. Until we speak again may your dining experiences hit a purple patch!

Chillout, dude

Posted on June 16, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Juno always had a pretty chilled out way of approaching every day, particularly when there was sunshine to soak up…

But she sure would have understood the latest instructions to come with your cuppa at Coffee Barker in Cardiff’s Castle Arcade:

Until we speak again do as the good coffee people tell you!

Turkey, anyone?

Posted on June 12, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Juno was never one to miss the lip-smackingly tasty opportunity of turkey…

But even she would have been proud, if initially confused, of what her native London has recently served up under the name of Turkey.

To begin with there was the strangely un-metropolitan surroundings offered up by a gentle stroll along the Regents Canal between Mile End and Angel. Who would think from the following view that you were in the centre of one of the world’s largest and most recognised cities?

But gradual progress was to take us into something more akin to metro-land as we approached the newly gentrified Islington…

Upper Street is widely known as one of London’s premier eatery locations, with much of the world’s cuisines represented along its mile. Yet, as with Broadway in New York, you can be well served by a glance just a few yards off the main drag, as we were to be on this occasion. From Istanbul to Beirut was a call not to be missed… conjuring up all of the culinary allure of a Turkish and Lebanese fusion.

Kilis Kitchen comes with nothing but the highest of recommendations; small but intimate at the front but with a lighter additional room to the rear.

But you need time to take in the fabulous menu (and even try the Turkish red wine).

Dolma (stuffed vine leaves) with Sucuk (spicy lamb sausage) made a tasty mix from the starter…

Then comes a shish kebab to make you forget whatever it is that those fast food take-aways churn out. Succulent tender char-grilled lamb skewers proved a truly mouth-watering taste; but I am sure Juno would have turned up her nose at the lightly grilled green chilli pepper, and the tastiest of side salads, let alone the basmati rice (to her it would have been a waste of plate space better devoted to meat and more meat!).

My vegetarian companion was equally complimentary about the char-grilled halloumi starter and pan-fried marinated sardines main course. What’s more, the evidence emerged that Turkish-Lebanese combinations have learned the art of perfect chips!

This meal left both of us feeling like Juno’s more usual post-banquet pose…

But we had to make do with another stroll along the busy boulevard of Upper Street as it teemed with the late evening diners.

Until we speak again, don’t be drawn to the main drag when some of the real jewels are often just left-field.

They do things very strange…

Posted on June 3, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Juno was always very clear… “The beach is a place for dogs, don’t bother me with all of that sand and sea stuff.” And I have to agree, I’ve seen plenty of dogs being walked on or near beaches (don’t forget those pooper scoopers dog owners!), but a cat on a lead flouncing across the dunes is something that belongs only in the strange recesses of the imagination.

On a recent visit to the infamous Barry Island in South Wales (for anyone who has seen the UK TV programme Gavin & Stacey) I was reminded of a lyric by one of my favourite bands of all time… Steely Dan… “Over there in Barrytown they do things very strange”. So, maybe a cat on a lead, blah-blah-blah…

Following on from the unseasonal wintery start to this June a couple of days ago, it was good to experience Barry Island’s ability to create a mysterious draw of that sea and sand. It has the ability to entice all living creatures (except feline’s it would appear):

But the sea here is not for the faint-hearted; my memory of childhood visits was of a hike to get to it, and that still seems to be the case. Juno would certainly not have been the slightest bit inquisitive about something so wet that was also a distance away. It seems that people only travel to it in packs these days!

However, for students of classical architecture, you might think that Barry Island has the doric column vibe going, in order to stimulate those with an interest in culture:

But close up… you begin to see the cultural vibe is more of the ‘they do things very strange’ (or even ‘Gavin & Stacey’, who are serially referenced in this arcade):

It is safe to say that many things at Barry Island have not changed since those long forgotten days of my childhood. A fading but familiar sign might have been the subject to prick up Juno’s ears, something to do with food. John’s is still going:

Though a few spare penny’s were lavished on the entrance…

… not too many are required for daily specials:

But for a true stroll down the seaside memory lane, and to prove to the Juno’s of the world that in Barry ‘they [just might] do things very strange’, just gaze at the internal decor:

So until we speak again, enjoy your memory lanes, and feel free to go ahead and do something very strange! Why not let me know about it with a comment on this blog post?

	Kirt on NOLA: UK-style
	Wanda Rusiecki on Frohe Weihnachten
	Steve Morgan on Turkish delight
	Wanda Rusiecki on Turkish delight
	Wanda Rusiecki on Turkish delight

JUNO's VIEW

Seeing Cardiff and the world through the eyes of one cool cat

Category Archives: Foody cat

Bill who?

A French Connection

Grazie mille

The power of food

What to call it?

Pursuit of elegance

It is what colour?

Chillout, dude

Turkey, anyone?

They do things very strange…