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!

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.

The Juno’s 2015

Posted on May 9, 2015 by Steve Morgan

You can never have too many awards. The arts have their season across the early months of the year, and football and rugby are deep into their trophy and award winning season as Spring progresses towards the summer recess. Juno was no stranger to posing for award status confirmation, usually the ‘I am waiting for more food award’…

: Come on, it’s dinner time

: Hey you, stop ignoring me

: I’m starving here

: Do I have to hunt for my own food?

But, when not demanding food she also had an eye for the absurd. So here are the posthumous Juno awards for 2015:

The Award for Having No Shops Anywhere in Your Locality goes to Atlantic Wharf in the old Cardiff docklands. And still the City Council give permission to relentlessly build more residential units.

The Award for Sweeping It Under the Carpet goes to an alleyway next to the University of South Wales. It’s a Sunday morning and the streets are suspiciously clear of litter just a few hours after the late night/early morning weekend celebrations have subsided. Good of the revellers to place all of their detritus in one place (or was it just the wind patterns around the University building?).

The Award for Gift Wrapping a Building goes to Peppermint Bar & Kitchen on St. Mary Street in the city centre. Located on a prominent junction it can only be the attention-seeking hub for attention-seekers.

Until we speak again I am sure Juno would have wished that all of the absurdities in your life are award-winning!

Cats in search of fish

Posted on March 28, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Trinidad cat and Welsh cat converge on unfamiliar Italian terrain, and with noses pointed skywards there was nothing better to do than search out the local catch. But why make this a challenge, when the best starting point is milk-based beverages of choice? The guide tells us that Antico Caffe Spinnato is one of the better pavement-side cafes for the best in cappuccino’s or a caffe ginseng… accompanied by a 7-layered chocolate in-house design, and a wild strawberry tart.

Suitably refreshed, it was time to go in search of the elusive scaly edibles. This place is known for its local fishing fleet and characterful street markets, but where is a street market when you need one? Down back streets and through piazza’s we meander…

Perhaps these guy’s might provide a clue as to the whereabouts of the local fish, after all they seemed as uninterested in strenuous activity as any self-respecting cat…

As we turn one corner after another the clues are hard to find, but as for Garibaldi (Teatro Politeama, that is)… that’s got to be taking the biscuit!

So, we might need to resort to a hope and a prayer at this stage. Never fear, if it’s a prayer you’re after this place is over-run with prayer shops of all shapes, sizes and states of decor…

From cathedral-sized praying venues to piazza-edged confessional sheds, or the simple street vending of pious niceties, this place has you covered…

As we were seemingly running out of the right kind of prayers a sight of a couple of locals emerges, as if to give us a message… ‘keep going’, was the clear instruction, but where to?

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how cool a cat you are, you just need a matter of the luck to fall your way; and so it was to be, as two cats retreat to the accommodation of choice…

The statues of the Quattro Canti were smiling down on us as they shaped up to herd tired cats in the direction of fish-focused culinary delicacies. The Centrale Palace Hotel might not have projected the most promising of entrances, but the invitation to a top floor roof garden restaurant was always a throw of the dice worth taking. A mouth-watering starter of melon and locally-sourced ham or the prawn salad was eagerly supplemented by a Sicilian red wine of clear nomenclature ~ the Etna Rosso:

Then, the journey was complete, as the elusive catch gets caught! A swordfish and capers affair, delicately dressed with cranberries and aubergine, or a finely prepared sea bream were laid out for our magnificent consumption.

Successfully replete, what do you do after such a feast? Well there is always the home of the operatic and balletic cats… the Teatro Massimo provided the venue for the final scenes of the Godfather trilogy:

As Juno would say, until we speak again ‘that’s Palermo for you’! Grazie, arrivederci.

Locally sourced what?

Posted on February 15, 2015 by Steve Morgan

On my travels recently I met up with my daughter in the city of Juno’s birth, London. Where to eat? So many choices (if you can afford most of them). Avoiding the bog-standard see-them-everywhere chains isn’t a difficult decision to make; but then you are faced with the culinary equivalent of the dreaded ‘estate agent speak’, where language seems to be the vehicle for promoting more of a smoke-and-mirrors confusion than aiding your powers of decision-making. It’s a competitive world, this restaurant business, and nowhere moreso than in the centre of one of the world’s leading cities.

Modern European does what it says on the tin. Fusion conjures up visions of either some kind of scientific experiment or an industrial procedure, either of which should cause alarm if you are purely focused on eating. Brasserie keeps the industrial metal vibe going. Bistro is something now applied to so many different places that its origin as a small cheap Parisian eatery has long since been lost. You can choose by country of origin, as London seems to have more types of cuisine than there are countries on the planet these days; but then you find yourself meeting up at a railway terminus without a Masters Degree in local culinary geography, so walk the streets and take pot luck is the most likely order of the day. Then there is the question of whether you are looking at a stand alone restaurant or is it part of the expensive boutique hotel next door (and does that matter anyway)?

You can always decide on the criterion of available budget; but some external menus are either written in small font size with dim lighting, or the pricing doesn’t easily correlate to each item, and the hidden extras just might surpass the cost of the main meal.

Where is my trusted feline advisor when I need her? This is the moment where Juno would undoubtedly be referring to me as ‘indecision central’ or ‘the resident knowledge gap’. Previous experience of the area of Bloomsbury does nothing on the night to speed the decision, but at least my young companion is no car driver so the long lost art of walking is not beyond her ability. At last, we walk through the Dickensian Woburn Walk…

… and stumble across an advert for Italian-British fusion at the simply named Number Twelve. It was not clear until you search for the rest room that this is part of the Ambassadors Hotel, so be prepared for a degree of elegance in decor, layout and quality of the food. This is definitely not your basic and simple bistro, and despite being tucked away in an isolated corner the service was welcoming. The window table was next to frosted glass with seating backing up to the window, so it is not going to be a place where the passers-by get to decide on whether they try it out based on gawping at what you are eating! The fillet steak and grilled salmon main courses were very well prepared, and despite having six chips on your plate it has to be said they were large and perfectly cooked. As for the side of chilli spinach, what a delight…

Not a cheap eating option, but if you are in the mood to savour some quality this is definitely a place worth checking out. However, I am left baffled by the menu and advertising claims to locally sourced ingredients… as Juno would have most definitely reminded me, the only locally sourced ingredients in London are concrete, tarmac, glass and exhaust fumes. Whether you are in for the surf or the turf options, until we speak again don’t let your eating be put off by culinary estate agent speak!

Dock of the bay

Posted on October 25, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Another day another eating opportunity, but where am I? Oh yes, I find myself dreaming of another cool cat… Otis Redding. So I find myself sitting in the morning sun, sitting on the dock of the bay…

Watching the tide rolling away, wasting time. Left my home in Atlantic Wharf, headed for the Cardiff Bay. So what is there to do with some hard earned spare time Down The Bay (previously known by my resident old git as ‘down the docks’)? Apart from napping there is always a range of culinary temptations to stroke the whiskers over, and today feels like one of those for dropping a steer…

Sitting here resting my bones, watching the tide roll away…

Looks like nothing is going to change… then I see the menu, and I realise why two thousand miles I might roam just to make this dock my home..

When the ambience is as laid back as this there is little else more satisfying than just sitting on the dock of the bay watching the tide roll away.

So until we speak again this is satiated Juno finishing with some harmonic whistling.

Taste of enlightenment

Posted on October 4, 2014 by Steve Morgan

As a carnivorous cat I struggle to get the vegetarian thing. However, some would say my lot more often play with our prey rather than eat them; so, perhaps I need to get in touch with my vegetarian side. But where in deepest Cardiff could seriously introduce me to the artistry of the vegetable, and take up the challenge of shifting some of my passionately held gastronomic prejudices? Penarth Road neither benefits from a city centre or Cardiff Bay location, which may suggest why it is not known either locally or internationally as a hub of culinary excellence… more of a highway for ethnic wholesale outlets or a parade of low cost obesity fuelling stations.

But don’t blink, it seems the aubergine may just get its moment in the sun. There nestled in amongst the downbeat signs of bedsit land I am accosted by the surprising temptation of a Vegetarian Food Studio…

What can this message possibly mean? Is the best thing you can do with a vegetable is to photograph it, or draw it, or even paint it? There is only one way to find out, and on closer inspection my senses are reassured by the signs of Indian cuisine, an undoubted home of doing good things to vegetables with a mouth-watering range of spices and fragrances. The decor is basic and functional following a relocation 100 yards along Penarth Road from its previous home of the last 10 years.

With ethnic murals adding to the authentic setting for the greatly anticipated feast…

Some of the previous visitors reviews serve to build the expectations: “Amazing”, “I’m not a veggie, but wow”, “Best Indian food in Wales”, “Superb food every time” and “Can’t get there often enough.” The range on the menu is enough to bamboozle even the regular aficionado of Indian restaurants, but this is somewhere distinctly different, and the serving staff are on hand to offer explanations and advice.

Starters of Hara Bhara Kebab and Hot Garlic Chilli Dosa ensure that fabulous tastes sizzle and crackle across the tongue, calmly settled by the contrast of a jug of Salted Lassi.

The main course is a mix of Chilli Paneer, Masala Mushroom Nu Sak (mild curry), with sides of Almond, Jeera & Cinnamon Rice and Methi Paratha.

For this cool cat the food was just right, but if you go accompanied by a fellow hot cat don’t be surprised if the chilli dish is deemed not hot enough, and more of the raw onions will be required to spice the palate. For this self confessed carnivore a trip to the vegetable patch has proved to be illuminating, and surprisingly tasty. So, until we speak again this is Spicy Juno wishing that all of your studios be creative and that your vegetables are fragrantly presented.

Culinary adornment

Posted on August 30, 2014 by Steve Morgan

So, that’s where the ancestors went wrong… a 25 foot high solid wall clearly wasn’t enough to keep the historic hordes of marauding cats out, particularly at banqueting time. Cardiff discovers that every good castle needs the unfathomable wisdom of an ugly Health & Safety intervention. Just add a 10 foot high steel fence, and you too can commune with your local population, delivering a message that something special is happening here, but you’re not invited!

Clearly somebody forgot to tell Batman… a fence and a high visibility cone threat will do nothing to deter a super hero with a skateboard. As for the subtle human addition to the high-vis security… just set your egg-timer to suss out the frequency of patrols by plods-on-wheels cycling the whole perimeter of the prolateriat-diner-exclusion-zone…

So, what is all the fuss about, you ask? NATO are holding a summit… somewhere else!!! Yes, the summit is in Newport, about 15 miles away. Maybe, my reader, you have been to Newport, in which case you know it doesn’t need anything added in order to be twinned with cold war Berlin, or the present day West Bank or Gazza Strip! Cardiff largely ignores its scruffier little neighbour, and instead casts its ambitions wider by adapting the model of the Green Line in Nicosia, Cyprus, with a contemporary version of their no-man’s land.

It seems that dining out just got very expensive for all the residents of Cardiff, even though they will not be invited to the table themselves. The grandest nosh on the planet takes place in the setting of Cardiff Castle, providing the main distraction for world leaders desperate to get together to say nothing of any significance about a whole load of very significant world issues. As an exclusive meal it takes some beating, with a leeked preview (is that the Welsh version of ‘leaked’?) of the indigenous menu of laver bread starter…

… cawl main, and Welsh cakes for pudding…

… all washed down with a pint of Brains finest SA.

The unanswered conundrum is why a meal that lasts no more than a few hours requires a month of security measures? Until we speak again send you answers nailed to the forehead of a peaceful protester to a somewhat disillusioned Juno.

funny cats [Thanks to http://www.sodahead.com as the source of this image, and gypsy-willow.com for the previous food images].

Chips with that?

Posted on August 23, 2014 by Steve Morgan

What do you get for 50 years of experience? ‘Charged more’ is the quick conclusion that some short-sighted cats might rapidly reply. However, in a world where you generally get what you pay for, good quality will always take some beating. So there I was, drifting off to sleep in the business section of Cardiff Central Library, having failed to find my chosen text… ‘Business strategies for cats wishing to liquidate their servants‘. There could be many reasons for the unintended cat nap, but the rumbling stomach was giving me a clue. Gazing down on the entrance to the Wyndham Arcade I found myself plotting a journey to the centre of breakfast…

… and even though the early afternoon alfresco diners were clearly absent I was drawn to a vision of what the arcade had to offer. Memory quickly came to the rescue, because many places claim to be able to make a good breakfast, but when it comes to specialising in the All Day Breakfast even us cool cats take our hats off to 50 years of family run experience and a long list of great reviews, even with veggie all day breakfasts (whatever that is!). Servini’s is the place to be…

The options available are all mouth-watering, but this was a cat in search of breakfast at 2.30 in the afternoon! The fresh ingredients are also freshly cooked to order, and presented as a tempting feast…

Who needs chips with everything?

Having said that even the chips here look fabulous.

Now it’s just back to that all-important task of plotting business strategies against my resident ‘entrepreneurial dabbler‘, or just another bout of gazing out of the window with designs on that sea-gull perched over the arcade… I wonder what Servini’s could do with that?

Until we speak again this is a sated Juno wishing you the best of breakfasts, all day.

Cool at One

Posted on June 29, 2014 by Steve Morgan

How time fly’s when you spend most of the day either sleeping or licking your nether regions. There I was, deep in meditation…

… when my ‘kidnapper of culinary dreams’ decided it was time for a literary celebration. It seems that a year has already passed since the resident ‘Nonsense-in-Chief’ decided I would become a star of the blogosphere. No, I haven’t got a clue what that means either. To my personal dismay I am told I have been a Cool Cat for precisely one year… this of course is complete tosh; being a lady I’m not giving away my age, but I assure you I have been a Cool Cat wherever I have been for the whole of my life!

As for this celebration thing… there are limits, and a point when a head down the loo or offering a simple view of a fury rump out of a nearby box have their merits. Or it is just time for the more sophisticated among us to get a grip…

Apart from you humans, the point at which a year arrives is as good as any to do a bit of reflective thinking. Whereas all you lot seem to have achieved at one year is the ability to scream and wail, and project nasty stuff in all directions from both ends!

So, what should you have learned about this Cardiff place from my first year of imparted wisdom? Firstly, they have a strange way of doing architecture. When the brief says “a sophisticated blend of the old and new” I’m not sure that this is what the commissioning people exactly had in mind:

But, when it comes to combining architecture with food, and if food really is your religion, the locals can come up with interesting new ideas for accommodating the likes of multiple feeding bowls and litter trays:

As for those moments when you left your shopping list at home, and you are sure that a violin, a Dalek, and a good cup of coffee were prominent amongst the essentials of the day, then the Castle Arcade is the place of your dreams:

Many a fellow feline in London told me before I moved that they communicate differently in that Wales place, but I was still unprepared. For example, they take health and safety of children very seriously, to the point of being very clear of the dangers of tree-climbing:

As an indigenous population many of these cats may not travel very far (or is that Americans I am thinking of?), but they like to keep busy. So, there is no shortage of signs telling you were to go… in the politest sense of the phrase of course (unless you happen to be more obviously English):

Before, during and after a busy day having been told where to go, you will be in need of refreshment. So, this is when in Cardiff you really have to use your Brains! However, refreshment is also where the true multi-cultural legacy of the capital city comes into its own:

The local brew is often to be found in its most splendid clarity (with Chris at The City Arms offering me free beer for the publicity… Not!). But, beware of local historians, all too eager to share their rose-tinted time warp stories of when Brains SA was the real deal.

However, with all of the zeitgeisty nonsense about immigration going on around these ancient lands of Perfidious Albion, it is the demands of the time warp fraternity that are at the centre of allowing interesting brands of low cloud in from the regions of England. The original multicultural port of Cardiff, giving rise to the infamous Tiger Bay, is now succeeded by little more than multi-regional representation in the brews that local people are prepared to fall over from, as a result of joyous consumption.

Just don’t ask about the local football team… you are a season too late on that one. And as for the historic local rugby team… my coughing and spluttering has nothing to do with choking on a furball. Suffice to say, this is a city that wears its sporting failures with as much ‘anonymity’ as it can muster. They even provide convenient masks lying around in public places in order to avoid being easily identified as a supporter:

So, it has been one year of me filling your bowl with quality morsels, and tugging on your tail about the issues that matter in this adopted city of mine. As I preen my whiskers at the thought of 84 posts in the bag, my final thought before we speak again is “are you looking at me?”

	David on Searching for Lebanon
	Kirt on NOLA: UK-style
	Wanda Rusiecki on Frohe Weihnachten
	Steve Morgan on Turkish delight
	Wanda Rusiecki on Turkish delight

JUNO's VIEW

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

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