The Good Burghers of Cardiff

Posted on March 20, 2016 by Steve Morgan

Here I am just getting ready for the most important function of my waking hours… it’s time to eat!

But then comes the big decision… what to eat today? If you’re in the centre of Cardiff and facing a similar dilemma, no worries, as I occasionally send my ‘Culinary Novice’ out to collect some useful intel. Though when I suggested they get out there quick, to find me good cuisine, I wasn’t indicating they come back with information on fast food!

Having already established themselves in a quieter corner of the city centre, it seems that of The Grazing Shed’s brand of Super Tidy Burgers are doing well enough to take up an additional position in the busy south end of St Mary’s Street. But did the good Burghers of Cardiff realise that they were giving permission for a ‘shed recycling business’ when they agreed to the advancement of high quality burgers in their midst?

I’m reliably told (if reliable is something I can apply to my ‘in-house infarct’) that this place is all about locally sourced, i.e. Welsh, products and produce. I’ve always been the type of cat who likes my cow to be within visiting distance, and preferably with an individual name!

“But let’s see the produce!” you impatient burger jockeys are saying. My ‘resident imbiber’ decided that a can of beer was the first priority; but then how can a self-respecting water slurper like myself impose any discipline on the easily tempted, particularly when they are out of my sight?

The Waen Brewery have cleverly tempted my resident ‘willpower deficit’ with an advertising slogan of ‘Hellish Good Beer’!

Once the initial thirst is quenched it’s time to see what Ermentrude and Daisy have to offer for satisfying both taste and hunger. My ‘culinary chancer’ goes for a Spicy Uncle Pedro, and I demand a quick pictorial explanation to assuage my worst fears of what might have been going on out the back of the dining area! Meanwhile ‘gastronome junior’ apparently went for a more conservative bite of chicken in a bun.

The reviews are both very complimentary of burgers and the associated accoutrement. Meanwhile the good Burghers of Cardiff can satisfy themselves that they are contributing to demand for the paper and the food basket industries, wherever they happen to be dominating the Welsh economy.

Until we speak again this Bella hopes that all of your burgers are chain-free!

The Art of Eating

Posted on March 5, 2016 by Steve Morgan

For most of us culinary cats the whole idea of the artistic nature of food is its appearance on the plate. If it looks really good it just might taste really good. My personal ‘Fanny Craddock’ (apparently you have to be over 55 years old to understood what that means!) pays no notice to all those cookery programmes on the TV, and believe me it shows! But, it seems that first in Bristol, and more recently here in Cardiff, the connection of art and eating has been taken to a new and interesting level.

Steak of the Art is definitely a place that will have you wondering what on earth is going on (in a good way) as you enter. Everywhere you look your eyes will challenge your brain to work out what you’re looking at. A variety of art installations decorate booths and pods in all directions, with Daleks, rugby, and Roald Dahl some of the most obvious sources of inspiration…

The whole restaurant is an artistic adventure in its own right…

But what about the food you hungry cool cats ask? Followers of my eating preferences will remember I can’t help but instruct my ‘walking taste bud’ to go check out the finest end of the cow… where would Steak of the Art’s menu of finest fillet rank in the Cardiff Fillet League Table? It seems that ‘taste buds senior and junior’ decided to go a little off message initially, as a starter of a Shared B-B-Q Platter was ordered. All well and good, but with this monster feast arriving where is the space going to be made for the fillet steaks??

My trepidatious delay was soon to be satisfied, as the bovine delicacy made its entrance. And what’s with those chips!

If it’s medium rare you like, the report back suggested this is as good as it gets locally; and this self-respecting cat has lost all sense of decorum as I salivate over my galloping imagination…

It seems that a new league leader has been found in the Art of the Fillet Steak; but there seems to be more about the Art-thing than initially meets the eye. Why not make best use of every space… a secluded staircase provides the perfect canvas for an art exhibition.

If you have spare cash at the end of your visit to this very reasonably priced food emporium you can always purchase a picture for your mantlepiece! Yes that is the Millennium Stadium (re-branded for commercial purposes in real life a few hundred metres away). As for the art of eating, this Bella has to once again face the disappointment of what could be, if only I can plan my escape from this place of rocks & water cat diet!

Leek & Onion Soup

Posted on February 26, 2016 by Steve Morgan

It’s a cold February day and my ‘in-house Oliver Twist’ is asking about ideas for feeding the masses. It being a big match event in the locality, I have no hesitation in coming up with my very own recipe. First, we need a pan big enough for all those insisting on “feed me ’til I want no more” (that’s an ‘in’ rugby comment). This will do…

Throw in generous portions of the main ingredients…

Add some heat to the cauldron…

Simmer for a few minutes…

Sprinkle in a dash of yellow stuff…

Add some crusty bread…

Home appetites are guaranteed to be satisfied, as the final result clearly indicates a sumptuous outcome…

Until we speak again I tempt your taste buds with my next menu, coming to an event near here: ‘Pizza for Proles’.

Food history

Posted on January 30, 2016 by Steve Morgan

So, what are my credentials for talking to you about the history of food? After all, as a true cat I appoint others to do the hard graft for me!

The President of my predecessor’s (Juno) fan club was recently celebrating a birthday, the number of which sounds to me like like something out of history. It’s one of those numbers where you people can easily tend to get lost; who knows where she is going here? Are the loos down there? Or is this a subterranean dining experience going on?

I digress, the thing here is about how history and food came together… at least in my mind anyway. This train of thought came together when my ‘appointed food taster’ said they were off to a Blue Anchor, or somewhere nautical that is actually miles from the sea (strange ideas happen when it comes to naming pubs, inns, restaurants).

But this one is old, very old, 1380 old! And it seems from reading a brief history about the place like it has always been an inn, always into the beer and food groove. So I guess they must have learned to do some things right by now. It’s a cold and bleak winter’s day, so you need something to take the chill away, and this place certainly oozes that cozy old inn vibe…

Apparently the Blue Anchor is well known amongst the beer aficionados for its small but well-kept range of the amber and pale nectar. And I’m told the lotion more than adequately complemented the nosh. As for the eating, where do you start? Ham Hock sounded like some ancient vittles, but I’m informed it was a thick and tasty starter, though who knows what the green stuff was up to hiding under the

This being a Sunday, my instructions were to go for the traditional roasts, and my compliant diners duly obliged…

Whilst these Yorkshire puddings take up space the beef (and those going for lamb) reported a very tasty meal. The real test is the vegetables, and they came through as lightly cooked and crunchy… “just right” I said. So my local fans have found another place well worth re-visiting; and being around since 1380 this place isn’t going away anytime soon. The place is East Aberthaw in the Vale of Glamorgan, and until we speak again I’m Bella, and my advice is ignore history, go now!

Chilling with the yocals

Posted on January 9, 2016 by Steve Morgan

As the festive season draws to a close this cat reflects back on a pre-christmas trip to the depths of rural Devon. My ‘in-house DJ‘ likes to taunt me occasionally by playing Animals by Muse on the music system; a band that hails from Teignmouth on the fabulous Devon coast. So when a work trip to Bishopsteignton (just outside of Teignmouth) emerged it was time to see where all of the inspiration comes from. The Cockhaven Manor Hotel was initially an un-presupposing venue nestling into this quiet rural hamlet up on a hill overlooking the Teign valley…

But early appearances can deceive, as the interior of this 16th century inn provides an uplifting welcome after the trials of a lengthy train journey on a cramped train.

The unseasonal lack of December cold was further repelled by the roaring coal fire! More for the needs of aged locals than for intrepid touring cats…

All that was needed was some hearty old local vittles, and the Cockhaven Manor certainly excelled. With some local ales on offer the enticement of a Spanish Rioja proved too strong. It might be good weather for ducks across much of the UK in recent months, but on a relaxing evening it proved to be good duck for cats!

And if that wasn’t enough, a peaceful night’s sleep was delightfully topped off with a made-to-order breakfast that set the day up…

As for work, I’m going to leave that to others after my brief foray into the tasty south Devon countryside.

Until we speak again this Bella gives a paws up to the Cockhaven Manor.

The band members of Muse might well have migrated here from other parts of the UK, as kids, but I recommend a visit to the locality to see the source of inspiration for yourself!

[Acknowledgements to Muse for their You Tube video linked in this post].

It’s a carve up!

Posted on December 19, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Family birthday events do have a habit of clashing with the run up to christmas; but then it’s difficult to shift a birthday I suppose. So what can be done if the christmas effect is to be avoided in the culinary department? Nothing it would appear, but then who listens to the advice of a knowledgeable cat? It comes as an unusual experience for my kind not to be in complete control of what goes on, particularly when this bunch of humans decide to go off to ‘noshville’ without me!

It seems the older, so-called wiser members of the group decided to do the same thing as last year. Well, don’t blame me if you get the same as you already had! There were incessant moans about the rubbish service from my ‘resident gourmand‘ on the news of the deja vu eating experience. Nevertheless, off to the Marriott Hotel in central Cardiff is where the starving clan congregated. [With thanks to booking.com for the above image of the hotel exterior].

It seems that the place was quite popular, or is that just the christmas effect kicking in? Anyway, those who should have been at home taking care of my culinary delights were led to a table in close proximity to carver central…

It seems that lightening really does strike twice, as I hear it took three separate members of staff an eternity to sort out bringing a bottle of Rioja and a couple of glasses to the table… a mere 20 minutes later than the glass of Pino Grigio and glass of Pino Rose requested by others in the party.

I wonder if draping a clean handkerchief around the bottle adds to the flavour of the wine; or is it just a sneaky flourish to cover up for poor service?

With a taste of wine smoothing the palate my discerning food taster goes for a simple mix from the starters buffet table; salami and ham accompanied by salad and antipasti…

But the coup de gras of the whole set up was the hotel’s signature hot buffet carvery, top ended with melt in the mouth turkey breast and beef, sublimely accompanied by crisp seasonal vegetables, a fluffy Yorkshire pudding and tasty gravy…

Tis the season for brussel sprouts, and for all of the faint praise they receive, a crunchy sprout is a fine accompaniment to any festive dish. The overall verdict reported back to me was of a very tasty meal, but a likely seasonal recruitment campaign results in service that falls below the average expectations. So, until we speak again may all of your brussel sprouts be crunchy!

Smoky Days

Posted on December 5, 2015 by Steve Morgan

A smoke and fire combination doesn’t have to spell disaster. Though when my ‘resident gastronome’ started eulogising about the taste of smoke I was beginning to contemplate instant evacuation from the joint! Rather than a fire-induced emergency, it seems the reference was more to a recently established addition to an over-full American burger type of market. The smoke in question turns out to be a Kansas influenced method of cooking that uses the b-b-q smoky style that brings out the best of taste in good meats.

Being American in origin, The Smoke Haus leaves little space on the plate. Ramping up the numbers of the obese population doesn’t seem to be a primary concern. Health hazards are just collateral damage when it comes to the pursuit of gastronomic pleasures. On the occasion of this particular visit a New orleans Burger, Kansas Chicken, and Veggie Chilli were complemented with house fries, rice, Guinness, and Anchor Steam beer. These were the relatively small portions, but for those who could eat a horse, or another more likely complete animal for that matter, The Smoke Haus is waiting to prepare the challenge for you!

Whatever level of challenge you take on, there is the universal message to all diners… We Salute You! Well, they do get to pocket your hard earned cash, and this isn’t cheap by average burger joint standards…

… The old adage is that you get what you pay for, and my ‘surrogate tastebud‘ tells me it is worth paying the upsell for a whole different quality of taste.

Until we speak again this Bella recommends the influence of smoke on you palate. A Smoky Day should not just be a melodic tune from Colin Blunstone! What next… how about sampling some fire-eating.

Chasing the bacon

Posted on November 14, 2015 by Steve Morgan

A cat can only take so much of these rocks; sold to me as food by the one who doesn’t ever eat them! I decided what I needed was a really good pig, but enough of the ‘pretend owner’ of this place… it’s time I went on a Welsh safari. I hear Carmarthen is a good place for livestock, so let’s go check out what it has to offer for the discerning cat.

After a tortuous rail journey made interesting only by sea and estuarine views after Swansea, arrival in Carmarthen station leaves little to suggest I’m on track for anything exciting. Better follow the locals I guess, as they seem to all be heading for this strangely bridge shaped footpath to who knows where.

First sight suggests the locals have built fortifications many years ago to keep the outsider pig chasers at bay. Though I’d have to say they got a little architecturally conflicted between ideas of battlements and bureaucracy; with former looking slightly less imposing than the paper-chasers fortress…

Still no sign of the elusive porkers, but perhaps this old guy has realised an elevated position gives you a vantage point to spot the critters, or maybe it’s a defence against a local custom stolen and adapted from the Pamplona… ‘the running of the pigs‘ through the streets of Carmarthen!

Too much searching takes its toll, so this looks like as good a place as any for resting up before the next exertions. But hold on a minute, is the name trying to tell me something?

Perhaps a settling of the thirst will help the concentration on the task at hand. Let’s check out the local brew from down the road close to Llanelli, what’s it called again? Oh yes, its Felinfoel with the standout pint of Double Dragon… scary stuff, eh?

Time to survey the menu to see if that pesky pig has happened by this old place; or is it just the ancient site or resting place for the head of the king boar?

Funny isn’t it, us cats can exert so much energy in the hunt for something. Then when you sit down and relax it just falls into your lap! The exalted pig arrived in the juiciest of forms, complete with the trimmings of its natural habit… the majestic fry-up!

Now that I’ve plundered Carmarthen of its best hog it’s time to make a discreet getaway. So, where did I leave that super-charged chariot of mine? Oh no, not the dreaded local conveyance! Since when did the coracle represent the height of decadent movement? Until we speak again I’m going to be perambulating Bella, but then I guess I need to exercise away the additional pig I’m carrying.

The Mouse Hunter

Posted on October 31, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Down Mexico way there is a celebrity mouse called Speedy Gonzalez, or so I’m told. Just how speedy would be put to the test if a cool cat appeared amongst the celebrities! But where do I begin my search for a Mexican cultural icon from a starting point somewhere in Cardiff?

My interest is immediately piqued as my recent stroll into the town centre was arrested by the sight of Wahaca (isn’t that ‘whatever‘ in Spanish? Probably not!).

A promising sign read Mexican Market Eating, so ‘no better place to find a mouse‘ I thought, with no intentional reflection on what turns out to be impeccably clean standards.

This supposedly colourful character is not going to be easy to find amongst the camouflage provided by brightly lit colours, with lines and patterns throughout the establishment rendering a relaxed cat quite disorientated…

But the ultimate deception is provided by the menu of delights on offer. Who can still be thinking of a pesky celebrity mouse when your attention is drawn to a tasty range of tacos, tostadas, taquitos, quesadillas, empanadas and burritos. Chicken, chorizo, a variety of fish, avocado, pumpkin, peppers, spinach, and a range of spicy sauces and marinades. This is not the kind of stuff I find in my bowl on a daily basis, so I’m in for a special treat.

The Modelo Especial Mexican beer compliments the whole Mexican flavour of the moment. For a shared starter I and my Brighton resident visiting cat went for the tortilla chips with guacamole and fresh tomato salsa dips. Chunky home cooked tortilla makes a great change from nachos resembling little more than UK crisps.

But this was just a delicious appetiser before the explosion of taste provided by the main dishes of Pasilla Chicken Tacos with a habanero salsa and side of black beans and green rice; and Marinated Grilled Chicken in Yucatan spices…

There were so many more great dishes to sample, but we were already stuffed at this point. All I can say to any cats in the vicinity is get your tail around Wahaca as soon as you can, you won’t be disappointed.

Until we speak again I’m going to be a ‘contento/feliz’ cool cat called Bella. As for my ‘in-house chef’ all I can say is get learning from Wahaca, and in the meantime find me that pesky mouse.

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.

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