Tag Archives: cats humour

Cats in a Bath

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Oh no… that didn’t seem to work so well!

Ah, this is more like it… so a couple of cats went to Bath!

At times, the sheer volume of tourist visitors to this internationally recognised city of historic and cultural heritage can be overwhelming. So, pick your timing for a visit carefully. Instructive street signage combined with an unusual welcome from a top-hatted bird might just help set a favourable tone!

But I’m sure what you, and millions of others, came for was undoubtedly a glimpse of the Royal Crescent. Always good to spend a few moments dreaming of what is and what can never be, I guess!

But climbing that hill while taking in a large dose of culture and history will surely require some sustenance. Maybe a chance to stretch the finances to indulge those fantasies of wealth. Well, fear not, award winning nosh is close to hand, not to ignore the tempting wine selection hidden behind the restaurant name… Corkage comes with great prior reviews, so let’s give it a look…

Amongst a wide range of liquid temptations, an enticing invitation from Puglia takes centre stage. With a little nudge from the wine waiter the more expensive vintage is ordered, in a nod to the opulent surroundings of this whole trip.

But the question is what to have with it? Maybe ‘spiced sweet potatoes with pickled red onion, lime and sumac yoghurt’ sounds a mystifying enough temptation. Then again, ‘frogs legs pan fried with grilled baby gem, lemon breadcrumbs and satay sauce’ would at least demonstrate the British openness to all things European, in the ongoing shambles of Brexitland. Then again, ‘colley fillet with wild rice, pan choi, tarragon hollandaise and chilli oil’ keeps swimming into vision. But the wine choice is red, so perhaps that ‘lamb rump with smoked mashed potato, roast parsnip and coffee jus’ is what’s really standing up to be counted here. But, wait a minute, ‘rabbit ragu with tagliatelle and mustard’ also comes hopping into view.

Decisions, decisions… with a further range of other tempting options putting up their hands for attention across a small but extraordinary menu. Then it comes to you… there is that most wondrous of phrases in the English language… ‘All of the above‘! And just then, you’re helpfully reminded that this restaurant does a small plates approach to dining. Not to be confused with tapas, no, not that small. Something that perfectly solves the ‘all of the above’ dilemma…

Such perfectly proportioned finery may even permit space to encourage surprise and more than a little admiration from a certain US based dessert aficionado. Why not bring on the burnt Basque cheesecake with mulled wine plums, garçon! After all, I’ve given in to more of these dessert temptations during this spring season than I have across the previous decade. However, I don’t think anything more than the world’s smallest spoonful of that chocolate affair, even with its rhubarb ganache, miso cream and crispy caramel, will pass these lips though.

Such a fine and delicate dining experience demands a post-meal walk; which is beautifully accommodated by this place of history and intrigue…

A comfortable place to rest is the next item on the itinerary, preferably with a seductive location for breakfast. Got that covered as well, as long as you’re not spooked by a strange equine companion closely observing you…

Until we speak again, perhaps there is a near perfect cappuccino to be found more easily than a recent US quest! Step forward Cortado, near Pulteney Bridge… and chill (return and repeat)!

NOLA: Distilling the essence

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Born on a bayou, emerging out of a swamp, frequently in the eye of a hurricane, situated between the mighty Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain, largely lying at or below the natural water table, wondering when the levees will break… (there are quite a few ideas for songs here already!). But, why would anyone visit, let alone live, in a place like New Orleans?

The French came here and lay the foundations for a Quarter. The Spanish came here and added to the architectural diversity. Creoles and Cajuns emerged here bringing their separate and unique influences on the diversity of Louisiana cuisine, amongst many other characteristics. Africans were brought here and contributed so much to a culture of celebration, emanating from Congo Square (now part of Armstrong Park). And, the British came here looking to expand an empire only to be defeated by the combination of a local bureaucrat and a pirate (Andrew Jackson and Jean Lafitte)!

Jazz music was born here, and exported to the rest of America and beyond as a young Louis Armstrong followed in the footsteps of his early mentors. It continues to thrive through virtuosity in the Preservation Hall, the clubs and bars throughout the city, and street musicians and marches.

The range of cuisine alone, from diners to fine dining, takes up many accompanying posts on this blog. From shrimp & grits to turtle soup, from crawfish etouffee to seafood gumbo, from boudin sausage to beignets… leave your mental recipe book behind because this is a whole new language!

How do you capture the essence of such a complex city of people, history, architecture, food, and music? And I haven’t even started on the quaint old streetcars on St Charles Avenue, Steamboat Nachez on the Mississippi, or the voodoo influences and iconic above-ground cemeteries, that include the tombs of notables such as Marie Laveau (the Witch Queen of New Orleans).

Well, I guess I need to sit down and think about that over a tipple of something special. The French Quarter just happens to be the home of the cocktail, with Sazerac being established in a pharmacy by Antoine Peychaud in 1838 on Royal Street. If I were to distil the essence of New Orleans perhaps that’s it right there in a glass! Just make sure you have an expert like my good friend Tom Seay (follower of this blog) to perform the ritual of creating your drink!

Until we speak again, New Orleans is a melting pot of influences, ideas, atmosphere and experiences, of cultures, a complex range of local cuisines, the birthplace of great musical traditions. Depending on your personal tastes and who you are it’s a friendly and welcoming place. You can take it or leave it, because essentially…

A Gumbo of Experience

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New Orleans has always been a down and dirty in your face kinda place. Debauchery, moral corruption, and a sense of danger have been at the heart of the experience for nigh on 300 years. The food, the music, the people, the culture. It’s a marmite sort of place; you either love it or you don’t, there’s no in-between.

Then, there’s Gumbo… the official Louisiana State cuisine, which essentially refers to a stew. There isn’t just one kind of gumbo… it’s what you make of the experience. Likewise, New Orleans is what you want to make of the experience… but generally, it’s an open celebration of life.

For me, on a 5th visit, it’s looking for more of the new whilst hoping some of the best of the old is still there (post-Covid)! Maybe that’s why this visit can best be summed up as chocolate alligators in search of a good cappuccino. Read on… it still probably won’t make any sense, like New Orleans… who knows? This determined looking guy had more than chocolate on his mind!

Finding a good cappuccino in the US, well… needles and haystacks come to mind. Cafe Beignet is an institution with new locations open across the city. They say certain things really should be tried before you die… then again, trying certain things may hasten on the demise. Believe me, the search for a good cappuccino doesn’t start here! And, as the powdered sugary topping of a deep fried coating of a tasteless gloop… this does take some beating. However, in the Cafe Beignet v Cafe du Monde debate (does such a challenge really trouble the world?), the latter plumbs even greater depths, in my opinion!

Surely, I could rely on my good friends at Who Dat Coffee Cafe…over in the Marigny district of the city, way off the usual tourist radar. They’ve always been my go-to place for a relatively good cappuccino, and the humorous welcome bodes well. Unfortunately for me, now they want to spoil the experience by insisting on plastic cups! What’s that about? The Rueben sandwich certainly demanded a better side.

Perhaps technology will provide the answer. Googling best cappuccino brings up the interesting sounding Streetcar Cafe on St Charles Avenue. The promise did manage to beat the standard fayre so ubiquitous of anywheresville, but that’s a low bar. Then again, the experience did offer an opportunity to sample that strange (to us foreigners) breakfast of Biscuits & Gravy! Meanwhile, the search continues…

My erstwhile native US travel companion kept up her nearly 3-decades attempt to persuade me of the tempting and strangely sweet world of desserts… my resistance to which would be something Juno would be proud of. But, unbeknownst to me, this just maybe the gateway to good coffee… who’d have thought it?

On a planned stroll around the Garden District, she witnessed what looked like a local chocolate emporium, and it just happened to come with a side of coffee making. Piety & Desire source and make their chocolate ingredients locally with loving detail. With such admirable principles, they also get their coffee from neighbouring fellow purveyors who happen to roast their own beans on site. Heaven, if it exists at all, can be found in strange and quiet quarters, and that delightful green piece of chocolate includes duck fat… but no alligator fat, apparently!!!

Fortified with chocolate… I mean a good cappuccino… I’m ready to take on a range of what this unbelievable city has to offer. I tried a few of those dreaded desserts (but the incriminating evidence that I actually enjoyed the experiences shall remain under wraps). In order to possibly satisfy my quirkier side, how about some art… galleried as only they can down in the Bywater district:

Alligators… chocolate or otherwise, on the Swamp Tour had a habit of showing as much interest in the floating can of people as we did of them:

Though, as the second photo suggests, some had already had their fill of cappuccino for the day… any later than 1.00 pm and rumour has it they don’t sleep as well at night!

Then again, peace and harmony along the Lafitte Greenway through Mid-City and Treme helps to burn off some of the inevitable calorie intake more usually associated with visiting almost anywhere in New Orleans:

Until we speak again, there was an obvious solution to any of us influenced enough by levels of alcohol consumption… at the tried and trusted Avenue Pub on the wonderful St Charles Avenue… a Coffee Stout. The problem is that at 9.3 per cent, a few of these cause mobility issues… if you catch my drift. And, yes, please do catch my drift!

P.S. No alligators were hurt or injured in the making of this production! Chocolate, on the other hand, was consumed in a range of weird flavours!

The cerebral middle finger

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Who said Cardiff was welcoming to visitors? Arriving at the Central railway station, these days, should you gaze in a particular direction, you might just get the city’s version of the middle finger salute! Though clearly it is coming from the brain, not the heart!

More likely, this is Brains Beers latter day middle finger salute to beer lovers.

It’s a shame really, because there was a time when the local Brains beers deserved the regular accolades and awards they received. Then came the end of the 20th century rush to corporate mediocrity. Whereby quality is sacrificed for quantity (of profits, that is).

The final site of the old brewery is about to become the centre of a new development… yet more of the planners fashion for identikit mixed use residential and commercial extravaganzas (if that’s the plural of an extravaganza?).

This will become the Central Quay, apparently… they’ve overplayed the number of quarters, with probably at least 5 in the central area of Cardiff. Whatever happened to simple mathematics in the corridors of municipal power these days? Anyway, it seems it’s time to move onto ‘quays’ instead… reuniting the city with its waterfront, so the blurb goes.

Until we speak again, feel free to raise a glass to waterfront reuniting, whatever that might entail. But, also to the demise of what was an award winning beer (albeit decades ago).

Honour the cheque

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Once upon a time, Cardiff led the world… as the centre of coal trading in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. To mark such an auspicious position the Exchange Building, otherwise known as the Coal Exchange, was built in 1888 in Mount Stuart Square… down the docks as us locals refer to it.

As in any ‘exchange’, frantic activity would take place with all kinds of guys (as it was always guys at the time) gesticulating and bargaining, as the global price of coal was set right here in the Grand Hall. Then, one day in 1904, the very first £1,000,000 transaction was made. Yes, financial history was made right there on the trading floor of the Coal Exchange in Cardiff!

So, it has been a shared ambition with my local drinking friend, to dine in the grand old building when the long awaited Culley’s restaurant had opened. Not being early adopters, we have let a year or more drift by before achieving said ambition. But, it’s a grand way in which to honour that cheque from back in 1904… assuming that the prices don’t honour the historic event!

Apart from a ubiquitous olives and red wine (Argentinian Malbec) introduction to the place, we were drawn to the Scotch Egg and the Black Pudding Bon Bon starters. Small plates they may be, but the delicate tastes complemented the majestic surroundings.

As for the main course, we both just had to respect the tradition of Welsh supremacy (even if it was just briefly experienced more than 100 years ago). After all, there is a culinary delight that Wales has long been one of the world’s leading providers… Welsh Lamb. With squash and dauphinaise potato adornments, this was a fine way with which to honour that moment back in 1904.

Until we speak again, in the absence of any randomly available £1m cheques drifting my way, I’m more than happy to indulge a Welsh tradition… eating not sh____ing sheep, that is! You may enjoy those visions of spring with lambs gamboling about sunny hillsides. Me… I prefer them decorating my plate any time of the year.

65 not out

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Cricket is such a tedious game… which is why you can read on, as this post (like all the others) has nothing to do with the summer sounds of leather on willow… yawn, yawn. No, this is about achieving a so-called milestone. Though the effects of ageing can make it seem like a millstone on some days!

The first decision on approaching such a milestone is where to achieve it? Somewhere I’ve never been before might be a good idea. Having arrived at 40 in New York, 50 in Key West, 60 in New Orleans, my travelling companion made it very clear that America was off the agenda! OK, Europe it is, and having taken some expert advice, Mallorca it would be.

After all, it needed to be somewhere with well established bathing traditions…

And, a clear view of where your food is being prepared goes a long way to establishing culinary confidence…

With an abundance of interesting places the capital city of Palma provided a welcome introduction…

A wooden train set provides a unique way to get to from Palma to the place of choice for the actual milestone…

Port de Soller provided the perfect backdrop for ending the ‘When I’m 64’ Beatles year-long soundtrack…

An important celebration demands an experience of quality, and so I trusted online reviews of a restaurant 5 minutes walk away around the stunning bay…

And the choice of Agapanto certainly didn’t disappoint…

Until we speak again, Palma & Port de Soller are high on the list for must-do return visits. That milestone has taken 8 months to report! With OAP status fast approaching I must fly, in more ways than one…

Prosecco Cat

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After a hard day sleeping… I’d have a nice cool glass of Prosecco… if I could be bothered!

You see, it’s this travelling thing that just takes it out of me. Take Venice, for example… “Do I really need a few days surrounded by water and crumbling old buildings?” I wondered. Not the right kind of thinking to share aloud with my travel companion, who just happens to think it’s the best place on the planet!

So, what’s so good about visiting Venezia? Whisper it quietly… I wouldn’t want a certain someone to think I’m fully agreeing with their personal recommendation! I guess, to begin with, messing about on the water has many attractions:

Then there are the expected architectural attractions that most people think of when the idea of Venice is raised:

Unassuming cats can’t resist investigating behind any open door… and stunning interiors await the discerning inquisitor:

But, perhaps it’s the bright and colourful side of the surrounding islands or those amazing stain-glassed windows:

Thinking of the culinary side of Italy… pizza has to be the first idea that comes to mind. As good as some pizza’s definitely are, look further, as there are so many more culinary delights on offer! Octopus starters and seafood risotto offered delicious distractions for this unashamed carnivore… tuna, calamari, but exquisite meat-based dishes such as pork cutlets proved just as succulent and irresistible:

With so many wide-eyed big picture attractions at every turn… trust the locals to know that the devil is in the detail:

Then again, perhaps it’s best to leave it to Venice to describe just how fabulous it is… with a sharp intake of breath a one-word description may just accompany that continual feeling of incredulity:

As for me, perhaps in the end, the appeal of Venice starts and finishes with thoughts about liquid:

Until we speak again, the availability of fabulous wine was proving to be somewhat overwhelming… time to curl up and contemplate simply ignoring that earlier bottle of Prosecco?

Boyhood dreams

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Take a picture of this… it’s 1964 and the BBC teleprinter bangs out the football scores. To my amazement there is a team called Stenhousemuir! I must go and see them… my 7 year old self decides, not knowing exactly where it is, and with no means of getting there!

Fast forward 58 years of occasionally checking out their results (usually poor!), and, well…

… it’s what dreams are made of, isnt it! The media are hyping up the Old Firm match in Glasgow between Celtic and Rangers, but I’m off to where dreams come true… it’s Stenhousemuir v Stranraer, and a 58 year wait is about to come to a conclusion.

90 minutes of nail-biting excitement and ‘my team’… The Warriors of Stenhousemuir win 3-1. Key celebrations… pigging out in a very Scottish way.

The night before… with a pig hidden beneath an egg and pineapple combo!
And after the match… another pig… Chinese style, and believe me there are wok fried vegetables hiding out beneath the pork belly desperate to avoid the lime assault!

Was it worth the wait? I could say ask me in another 58 years time, but the pig-consuming activity would have long taken its toll by then… so, yes, they did me proud.

Until we speak again, Stenhousemuir has all bases covered for pig enthusiasts… either you take the healthier route, or they accommodate the other next door?!!!

Upgrading from French

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Once there was a bistro… mediocre at best, but upmarket for the traditional surroundings associated with the infamous Chippy Alley of Caroline Street in the centre of Cardiff. Few tears were shed at Juno HQ as Pierre met his demise during the Covid lockdowns of 2020… but, what would replace it? Summer of 2021 gave rise to a hint of refurbishment, and in recent weeks the curtain can be raised on a new Thai restaurant. Busaba emerges to taunt those who only have time for a bag of chips… the eternal staple of the street food warriors of Caroline Street (myself included on occasions of haste).

It passes the first test… the menus are not overly complicated, and certainly don’t need to be made of wipe-down plastic (a surefire sign of *********** well, fill in the blanks with your own commentary). However, step two created a problem… even though the menu had ‘starters’ and ‘mains’ as categories, the whole lot arrived in one go!

Makes for an exciting looking table, but something’s going to get cold… not least the stare from my discerning culinary companion!

Some things were definitely going to need replacing with freshly cooked dishes (and the restaurant staff duly obliged without any fuss).

Matchstick Chicken provided crispy bites of flavour without the expected fiery burn back. Yam Pak Crispy Duck salad provided a substantial leg, covering a fabulously tasty crunchy assortment of loveliness with a hint of peanut sauce. The Chicken Green Curry provided that wonderful Thai combination of coconut and lemongrass. The Tamarind Duck Breast was accompanied by that slight fiery tang originally expected from the Matchstick starter.

But, pride of place goes to that smallest of bowls (top right of the photograph). Calamari… described on the menu as their signature wok-tossed dish in ginger and green peppercorn sauce. Or, described by me as WTF… that’s the best Calamari I’ve tasted… ever!!

Until we speak again, they describe their restaurant as “Eating in balance… at Busaba you’ll find fresh authentic flavours with an innovative twist.” I say: “Bon Voyage mediocre French joint… I want more of that Calamari… NOW!”