Say what you want about the diminished size of the British Armed Forces. But, here in Cardiff docks, the Senedd Cymru (Welsh Parliament) is ensuring its own security against foreign invasion in this increasingly uncertain world.
Until we speak again, a special thanks go to the Spanish Armada surplus stores for the loan of Galeon Andalucia. What, you thought the British Navy had anything more viable? 🤔🤣
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!
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!
A restaurant 822 years in the making just has to be a special event. Step up Rozengrals (The Rose Grail), in a building circa 1201, but can it produce a meal fit for a very discerning Russian princess?
Authenticity counts for something when claiming such heritage. So, traditional dress helps to put the welcome into context.
The wine list is fortunately quite spare and unappealing. This is just as well because this setting seems to call out for a honey beer… even for a princess, it seems! By the way, the cloth comes as a vessel for presenting mini bread roles… as is the custom in times gone by, no doubt. Fortunately, the eating irons are already present in a pot, or else I was going to start flexing my fingers.
The menu is rather simply stated… more focused on describing historical stories than culinary information. As if we’re not concerned with what we’re eating as long as it was enjoyed by some noble gent a few hundred years ago! However, it’s suitably presented in a format that implies you’re partaking of a little bit of history.
Salad starters don’t ring true in my recollection of medieval banquets, but I don’t fancy leaving here having to be winched back up the stairs. The honey baked beet and goat cheese salad was a delicate balance of tart and sweet flavours that tempted more quaffing of the beer. The poultry liver with bacon and almond salad hinted more of times gone by… further back than yesterday, that is…
It’s quite possible that the cost of food here includes a candle tax, as there is no discernable electricity generated light. This creates a great atmosphere, and fear not, it’s not so you can’t see what you’re eating so well! Our choice of main dishes spread our interests across surf and turf. Oven baked sea bass and a rabbit stew with prunes and cedar nuts.
I can certainly vouch for the bunny having lived a satisfied and fulfilling life by the greater quantity of meat falling off bone than my previous pursuit of these animals/pets/cartoon favourites. As for the fish, it was ably dissected and devoured by my partner in these historic crime recreations we happened to be enjoying.
Until we speak again, a candlelit washroom visit brought back other historic nightmares… particularly of power blackouts as a kid in the 1970s.
Lost for something to do just as summer gets on the departing train and clears the platform in time for the arrival of autumn? Perhaps you find yourself in search of something to slow down that fast disappearing summertime feeling? Turkey ticks all the boxes. A random park bench even comes with its own cats, ready to make you into their comfy chair of choice! Juno’s View just came a bit more inscrutable…
Religious intrigue is a key ingredient to the whole Turkish experience… even fervent aethieists may gaze in wonder on the Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque, or Suleymaniye Mosque. The architecture alone embodies enough spiritual wonder…
For many, religious conviction is more closely aligned to the bargain hunt. Well, try your negotiating skills at the Grand Bazaar or nearby Spice Bazaar. But beware if you’re a novice, to these guys, a good haggle commands the very height of devotion.
For others, the religious experience is to be found in hidden quirky gems, such as the Basilica Cistern… an underground ancient water filtration system from Byzantine times…
But surely, universal worship will always be found at the altar to the kitchen… and wow, Turkey has altars aplenty!
Even with the incredible cuisine, this is a country where the architectural awe still borders on a level of religious and historical incredulity wherever you look…
And, above all else, it’s just that wonderful feeling that summer’s not quite departed…
Until we speak again, whatever your religious proclivities Turkey will be a delight (the real Turkish delight is well worth paying for as well!).
What do you do to celebrate a 40-year friendship to quell those fearful thoughts of “where the hell did that time go?” Perhaps by trying somewhere that’s not even 40 days old! The Sultan, down the docks, or Cardiff Bay as it’s corporately known these days, may provide that solution.
They seem to have discovered an interesting way of wooing customers in these early days. Free Turkish bread sets the tone, and while they seek a license to sell alcohol complementary glasses of house red and white wine are more than welcome.
Sampling the wine meant we didn’t hear the option of starters first, so we ended up with that Mediterranean meze experience of everything at the same time!
The fried halloumi with fig jam was perfectly textured. The babaganoush was perfectly balanced to allow the aubergine taste not to be overwhelmed. The Lokum was a perfect blend of slices of fillet steak and mashed potato with a Cafe de Paris sauce… what a sublime dish it was to, topped off with red kapia pepper. As for the asparagus, it was perfectly crunchy. Such was the delightfully presented array of tasty temptations the Veg Pide ended up as a perfect doggy bag takeaway!
The freebies hadn’t finished either with a complementary glass of Turkish tea to help the digesting of a real treat of a meal.
Until we speak again, this was a meal 40 years in the waiting. Don’t copy us, go now while they are bookending your meal with the complementaries!
A great meal starts with fresh ingredients…
Then, with a creative twist and more than a little culinary incompetence, AKA, whatever you have left in the kitchen… It’s a duck in pea soup special…
Until we speak again, the first customer is dressed for dinner down in Atlantic Wharf, Cardiff… It’s just another tale of local laid-back life!
Once upon a time in Patagonia, some Welsh folk settled many thousands of miles from home. It must have taken them some time to get there. But, come on, cariad, why did it take over 150 years to send the indigenous produce back to the homeland?
Whisper it quietly… you don’t really need a tri-walker and walking stick for rounding up prime steer along this part of The Hayes in Cardiff. A restaurant booking will now do the trick nicely…
I guess some meals are designed for the outdoors in sunshine. But, come on, this is the centre of Cardiff, not the Mediterranean! Even in nearly record-breaking September sunshine, a serious meal in Cardiff requires some dimming of the light, a darker backdrop to provide the right atmosphere…
So much for the hype of a new dynamic eating place arriving in the city (albeit more than 20 years after London), show us what you’ve got to offer Argentina.
Well, for one thing, the menu is reasonably small… something regulars to this blog will know I count as a positive characteristic… hopefully equating to focus and quality. Me, I can’t resist an indigenous starter dish of empanadas, this choice filled with Wagyu beef. These knock Cornish pasties into a cocked hat. Crispy pastry surrounds tangy flavoured melt in the mouth textured beef.
As for my co-conspirator on the night… sautéed prawns with deliciously hot tomato and garlic came in the skillet that their whole life was designed and lived to meet…
So far… excellent! Then came the test of a good or a not so good restaurant. It may be the first week of official opening to us ordinary punters… but even a really good restaurant doesn’t have to get everything perfect immediately. It’s how they respond when they get it wrong that counts.
Because the starters were that good we took quite some time tasting and discussing the experience. Perhaps the kitchen didn’t get the memo… don’t prepare the main course until the punters are ready!! So, semi-cold steaks and tepid chips arrived the second we were putting the starter cutlery down. Sorry hombre, this place isn’t even your average price… so expectations of quality are high.
With little or no fuss, the staff apologised for the error and promised to prepare the whole meal from fresh immediately. What is more, they recognised we had a little extra time to wait, and our bottle of fabulous Malbec was fast emptying. So, again without fuss, a second bottle was brought to our table… on the house! Strange how the same fabulous wine tastes even better when it’s free…
When the freshly cooked fillet steaks arrived the wait was definitely worth the time spent sipping at that smooth velvety wine. Yes, the plates look big. But, these are the usual 225g steaks. Here they also have to accommodate the 400g steak punters. People for whom one meal needs to last heaven knows how long. Gaucho’s are out on the range long hours, for all I know. As for me, you can keep your horseback-bull-lassoing affair, I’ll take 225g of Argentina’s finest and definitely come back for more another time…
Until we speak again, a certain blog site informed me that Juno’s View is 10 years old this very week! That free bottle of Malbec served a more than satisfying purpose after all.
JUNO's VIEW 