Hui Wei, Sheffield

Tired and not really paying attention, we must have ordered one of the most disjointed, incoherent meals ever at Hui Wei the other Monday night. The excitement of the Olympic torch relay must have gone to our heads. As soon as we were seated in a comfy dark booth I was ready for bed.

We accidentally ordered nothing but meat and carbs, where a dish of greens would really have gone down a treat. As such I didn't really enjoy the whole meal as much as I should have done, but looking at each dish objectively there was some good stuff here.

I was after the Sichuan dishes, AS was after anything as long as it involved roast duck with pancakes. The duck was fine, but I didn't eat a great deal of it saving myself for spicier, garlicky treats to follow.

Ants climbing up a tree was a new Sichuan dish to me. I'd heard of it but never eaten it, probably because it's not on the menu at Red Chilli. A colossal bowl of crispy thread noodles is brought to the table alongside a gravy boat filled with errr gravy I suppose. Gravy made primarily from ground pork, garlic, chillies and oil that is. That's my sort of gravy. The noodles are doused in the gravy which makes them crackle and pop rice krispies style, reducing down to a spicy, noodly slop. Good fun and good to eat as well. One to share in a group though as it got a bit boring after a while.

Pan-fried beef with chillies and Sichuan peppercorns hit the mark spice-wise, with a three pronged assault. Vibrant, fresh sliced chillies, deep smoky dried chillies and numbing, tingly Sichuan pepper. Lovely flavour but let down by being swamped in too much gloopy, cornflour based sauce. It would have been better dry or oily rather than saucy.

Duck, pork and beef clearly not being enough meat, we had some Northern style pork dumplings as well, just to make sure. The filling was beautiful, tender, savoury and fragrant with chives. The wrappers less so, being a bit too thick and doughy in parts.

Including rice, tea and one glass of wine the bill came to around forty quid. Reasonably good value. I can't quite work out whether they specialise in Cantonese or Sichuan food here, or maybe something else (Beijing?), but either way the food was good although I've had better versions of most of it elsewhere. Service was friendly and efficient.

6/10

Hui Wei
221 Glossop Road
Sheffield
S10 2GW


www.huiwei.co.uk

Bacon Sandwich Quest: June

Bacon! Coming at ya! I'm on the ball this month. No dilly dallying until the second week of July for June's porcine instalment. Here it is you lucky people.

There were two bacon sarnies in the month. I got off to a flyer with back to back butties in week one, then failed miserably to push on from there. Weak.

The source of this little beauty: Cumbernauld's very own Old Inns Café. The bacon rolls in Scotland are different. The bread is usually crustier, more chew and heft than you'll get in England. Maybe it's the auld alliance at work. Whatever the reason, I like it. The sturdier bread matches the powerful bacon hit within. It's smoked, and coarsely cut, and delicious.

Sauce bottles are provided allowing you to dispense your own perfect measure, and uniquely Scots accompaniments are available should you wish. The tattie scone carb double whammy being a particular favourite of mine.

Service here is also far cheerier than you could reasonably expect from some blokes who spend their life in a wooden hut in the corner of a garage forecourt next to a motorway in a town once voted Britain's ugliest. Excellent, but not enough to knock me off number one spot. £2.20 for the straight bacon.

And this one: Westmorland Farm Shops at Tebay services on the M6. It flatters to deceive a little this place. The quality of the food is markedly better than at most motorway service stations, but that only means it's not completely shite, and not that it's actually much good.

An 'any two breakfast items' sandwich costs £3.95, and isn't really worth it. The bun was a bit stale as well as being too small, and the portion control isn't really designed with construction of a sensible sandwich in mind. Not enough bread, not quite enough bacon and a year's supply of mushrooms. I exaggerate but you get the idea. Good bacon and mushrooms though.

Leaderboard time:

Whitelock's, Leeds

It's getting a lot of attention at the moment is Whitelock's, and rightly so. I'll spare you the blather about it being a Leeds institution, the grand history of the place and so forth, plenty of others have and will do that better than me.

On a personal note I don't have any great memories of the place having been in there just a handful of times in the fifteen years since I first darkened the door of a Leeds pub. I do like a good pub though, and I like to see a pub with a hinterland thriving, so I was keen to pay a visit as soon as I heard the guys from London's Mason and Taylor had taken over.

On the face of it nothing much has changed. It looks the same, and pleasingly has retained a very mixed clientele. There were all sorts in there at teatime a week last Saturday, and there was a happy buzz about the place.

The aim is clearly evolution, not revolution. There's a new menu and an extended beer range, but much more in a traditional pub vein rather than the full on modern beer bar approach.

We drank pints of something local and pale, I can't remember what but it was well kept and quaffable. There was also an impressive rhubarb beer (Saison?) from Ilkley Brewery.

To eat, a burger was a bit of a monster, the highlight being a thick, juicy patty cooked to medium with properly melted cheese in a good quality bun.

I wasn't such a fan of everything else on the plank though, the fat chips being undercooked in parts, the salad limp and the onion rings a little greasy. I did like the blobs of slaw or remoulade or whatever the hell it was though. I shan't bang about the fact it all arrived on a plank, other than to say it irritated me as usual.

The burger was good value at under a tenner for a very substantial meal, and I enjoyed it even if the accompaniments needed some work. Whitelock's is very much a pub of course, and drinking remains centre stage. I'd say they've got the place back on track towards being a great drinker's pub where it's worth staying for dinner too. I'll definitely be returning to see how things progress.

7/10

Turks Head Yard
Leeds
LS1 6HB

http://www.whitelocksleeds.com/

Stuff on toast (No. 1)

Lists, ratings, rankings and statistics. I can't get enough of them. It's why I can't resist rating the restaurants I review. It's why I'm a sucker for 50 this, top ten of that and 100 of the other. Awards and and best ofs and so on and so forth. It's probably the main reason I've developed a love for cricket, with it's myriad rankings and scorings and co-efficients (check out cricinfo, hours of fun to be had on there). It's sad but I just can't help myself.

Not content with Bacon Sandwich Quest, restaurant rankings, catalogues of good things to eat and everything else in the same vein on this blog, I'm always imagining new and exciting ways to create lists. I have some great ones in mind, but none are likely to come to fruition. Too obscure or just downright silly.

How about: 'Top ten modern style Indian restaurants in West Yorkshire with faux leather seats serving disappointing stodgy food in enormous portions'. Silly and my constitution couldn't handle it.

Or maybe: 'Supermarket cafe sweep'. In which I review and rate comparable meals in the cafeterias at different supermarkets. This one was my Dad's idea. Too depressing and I'm already pretty sure Booth's is the best.

Or perhaps: 'Stuff on toast', a simple series cataloguing what I've been eating on toast. Simple, easy, no shortage of material, doesn't take much effort (keeping up with writing this blog is proving tricky at the moment) and will keep me amused deciding what the best things on toast were at the end of the year.

So here it is: stuff on toast, number 1.

Broad beans, mint and feta on sourdough. Tomatoes on sourdough.

Fazenda, Leeds

Meat. More meat! More meat! The battle cry remains the same, the venues change. From time to time the lifelong (well they haven't ditched me yet anyway) friends I met at University and I like to meet up to drink, make merry and eat a lot of something large and meaty.

It might be in curried form, it could be Chinese or perhaps a barbecue. In days of yore the cry originated in the kebab shops of Hyde Park, the meat of dubious quality, foot long strips of it stuffed in budget pitta and doused in hot sauce.

Nowadays I wouldn't touch that stuff. Honest. Well alright I might if you plied me with enough booze first. But it's a very rare occurence. I like to think our palates have developed, become refined over the years, learned to appreciate subtle tastes and quality. In practice it's probably just that we can afford to spend more than £3.50 on dinner.

Last Saturday we tried something a little different, a visit to Leeds' one and only Churrascaria, a Brazilian barbecue restaurant. Fazenda is a Rodizio, a Churrascaria where the meat is grilled in huge chunks on giant skewers which are then fetched to your table where the flesh is sliced directly onto your plate. This continues indefinitely using a beer mat traffic light system. Leave your mat on green, and hey presto. Meat! More meat! Flip to red and they'll stop.

If you like meat this seems like a very good idea. If you don't I wouldn't bother.

In practice it's not always such a good idea. I've got history with the Rodizio. Some years ago I spent a few weeks in Brazil (and its equally meat-tastic southern neighbour Argentina), the final week of which was in Rio where I did literally nothing but eat meat at a Rodizio and drink Caipirinhas. Alright not quite literally, but that's the abiding memory. Presumably I was lying on the beach with the meat and booze sweats inbetween times.

After the excesses of Brazil I didn't go near another Rodizio for another few years until a couple of very underwhelming experiences in a London restaurant. Meat that was mostly overcooked and poor quality, the best cuts showing up far too infrequently. Compared to the generosity and quality we'd experienced in Brazil it was a waste of time.

Fast forward another couple of years to Fazenda. Would it be like a true Brazilian Rodizio, or would it follow the annoyingly common British approach to this sort of thing (i.e. offer all you can eat, hide behind a gimmick, then don't worry about the quality because they'll be queuing out the door anyway)?

Thankfully it was much more like the true Brazilian experience. Meat! More meat!

Did I mention the salad bar? While the meat and various other sundry items (chips, beef empanadas, pao de queijo) are fetched to you, the salad bar is self service. I was quite impressed with the salad bar at Fazenda. Plentifully stocked, good quality, a selection of cold cuts available as well as green stuff in case unlimited hot sliced meat just isn't enough.

The bread from the salad bar was good but the pao de queijo (little cheesy rolls) were a bit chewy and rubbish. I liked the beef empanadas though. Good and meaty. Always makes sense to commence an all you can eat meat barbecue meal with some little meat pies.

And then the meat began to arrive. Beefsteak in a multitude of ways. Rump and tail of rump and picanha, or cap of rump, the King of the Rodizio.

Even a bit of fillet, and then some ribs. None of it was overcooked, everything ranged from medium through to rare, no well done steak in sight. Not the best beef I've tasted, but decent stuff and handled well.

There were sausages, Brazilian style chorico and black pudding, both delicious these. The black pudding was a soft squidgy delight, more like a French boudin than a British pud.

Lamb was over marinaded in a slightly artificial tasting minty sauce, but was beautifully cooked within, pink and tender.

There was chicken, no breasts I'm pleased to say, but crispy skinned thighs and also hearts. I had high hopes for these after enjoying them on holiday last year, but sadly they were like rubber balls.

Meat! More meat! It continued until closing time, we dined late, the beef getting ever rarer as time progressed. The final skewer was blue, virtually raw, I think they'd doused the flames but brought it to us anyway.

Finally spent, my faith in the Rodizio restored, we headed off, fortified for the rest of the night.

It's a fun evening a meal at Fazenda, but not a cheap one. On a weekend night the all you can eat Rodizio will set you back £28 (weeknights and lunchtimes are cheaper). By the time we'd quaffed a load of drinkable but unspectacular Malbec our bill topped out at £44 per head including well earned service (we worked those meat waiters hard). The meat was good but not excellent, so if you want to stuff your face I'd go here, but if you want a genuinely fine piece of meat I'd go elsewhere.

7/10

Waterman’s Place
3 Wharf Approach
Granary Wharf
Leeds
LS1 4BR

www.fazenda.co.uk

Good things to eat [Volume 10]: A Cornwall special

I didn't get round to visiting Cornwall until I'd passed thirty. I really shouldn't have left it so long.

Last summer I was on the north coast, in and around Newquay. Thereabouts the coastline is expansive; great sandy beaches, craggy cliffs, crashing waves and dunes. I loved it.

This year I was on the south coast, in and around the Fal estuary. Only 20 miles or so away, but completely different. Here everything is estuarine, muddy creeks snaking between low hills and little boats put-putting between tiny, secluded pebbly beaches. Sailing country, not surfing. Different but equally wonderful.

That's my ode to Cornwall done. You really should go. Now what about the food? If I could give you one piece of advice about eating in this part of the world, it's this: eat whatever you can drag alive from the sea.

The highlight, in both eating and 'cooking an agressive live creature for tea' terms was the crab. I'll own up, we didn't catch these ourselves, they were bought from a fisherman straight from his boat. Two rather large and not very happy spider crabs to be precise.

They were dormant while sat in the bucket (I think the fisherman said to keep them upside down to stop them getting frisky) but livened up no end as soon as they were removed.

It's only at this point you realise why they're called spider crabs, look at the length of those legs!

After a bit of a wrestle the crabs lost and were duly dispatched. They were pretty big so needed around half an hour on a rolling boil to cook through, and them came the tricky bit. Extracting all the juicy morsels of flesh from the body, claws and all of those legs was time consuming but very much worth it. A nutcracker came in handy.

I can't think of any imaginative words to describe their flavour, it was just fresh, sweet, crabby and utterly delicious. We did nothing more with it than eat it scooped up in a lettuce leaf or on butttered brown bread. Divine. It was surprisingly plentiful too, the pair giving up enough meat for eight people.

Out of the same estuary came tiny little shrimps, like the ones that usually end up potted. We did catch these, thought I can't claim the credit (that goes to AS's Aunty). They were almost as lovely as the crab, and in the same sort of way, just beautifully sweet and fresh. They're so tiny that removing the shells is nigh on impossible, but pulling off the heads and just crunching away at the rest worked just fine. I also finally developed a liking for the Chinese habit of sucking the goo out of the heads. Yum.

Still on the seafood front we ate some fat fillets of ling one evening. I'd not eaten this fish before but I'd definitely look out for it again. Before cooking it looked similar to a large cod loin, and the taste wasn't a million miles away either, though I thought it was a little more delicate texture and flavour-wise. Simply baked with lemon and herbs it was very enjoyable.

After an afternoon stroll into St Mawes I couldn't resist having crab again, this time a sandwich in the pub. It wasn't bad, but our crab won by a mile. The meat was fresh and sweet, but there wasn't a great deal of it for the price (£9.50) and it hadn't been picked very carefully (I counted three pieces of shell).

We didn't survive on seafood alone, and it's at this point I should thank my girlfriend's (that's AS in case you were wondering) relatives for their hospitality, and for their brilliant cooking. Except for the pub sandwich and my dubious contribution in manhandling a crab everything in this post is their work. Thanks everyone!

Puddings were no afterthought. For three evenings in a row dessert was a celebration of British fruit. For someone who loves our native fruits as much as I do, this was a very good thing. There was a dream of a brioche summer pudding, resplendent and crimson, and a mouth-puckeringly tart gooseberry crumble.

And then there was this, a rhubarb meringue roulade. Think rhubarb fool crossed with pavlova. Add extra cream, then eat far too much of it far too quickly on account of its deliciousness.

I've talked about lunch and tea, but not breakfast. There was more fruit, with yoghurt and granola, but you don't want to hear about that, you want breakfast meat.

Ta da! The best way to cook an enormous fry-up for loads of people is outdoors, in a huge paella pan. Eggs were squeezed in the gaps and the whole lot served from the pan as a centrepiece to the table. 

So there you have it. I can't think of many finer days than one that includes both black pudding and summer pudding, sunshine, crabmeat, and the sea. Go to Cornwall.

The Castlebar, Ealing, London

I'm writing this for one reason, and one reason only: a damn fine burger.

The Castlebar isn't the most attractive of pubs. It was the night that Poland played Russia and the outdoor drinking area was noisy, windswept and more than a little bleak. TV commentary vied with Eastern European chanting and the Uxbridge Road traffic for aural supremacy. Loud was an understatement, conversation nigh on impossible.

Table service, friendly and efficient once someone's attention had finally been caught, was a bonus, but the beer selection was uninspired. I wasn't in the best of moods. RP persuaded me that the food was worth ordering. I remained unconvinced.

Sturdy cutlery and starched white napery arrived after we'd ordered, incongruous placed on the bench seating with the backdrop of football bedlam. A sign of the quality to come.

The burger was excellent. A thick, exceedingly juicy patty, served medium, with a defined beefy flavour. The supporting bacon, cheese, lettuce, tomato and mayo were spot on too, though I'd have ditched the few rocket leaves that had also found their way in there. The bun held up to the challenge, in spite of the succulence, and the fries were plentiful.

The burger cost around a tenner, and was well worth it. On a warm night, with a football match of interest, I'd have loved the place I'm sure.

8/10 for the burger
5/10 for the pub

The Castlebar
84 Uxbridge Road
West Ealing
London W13


http://www.facebook.com/TheCastleBarEaling