Category Archives: Guests

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Ballo, King’s Head Theatre

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I must say I was hugely excited to receive the invitation to review again at the King’s Head, it being one of my favourite places to come and see what’s on offer.  This evening certainly did not disappoint. I was sceptical at the thought of an opera of Verdian proportions being done justice by the intimate settings of the King’s Head but with the stage being set wisely in thrust mode, the action managed to overcome the spatial limitations of its platform.

Now, if you have seen any of the publicity for this production, you will realise that it bears resemblance to a certain Swedish super-power home store.  Indeed, ‘Ballo’ is the famous Ikea’s retail rival in this version.  That is not to trivialise or undermine the storyline in any way; as all the drama, backbiting and tragedy that one would expect from Verdi is still very much present, just against a more humorous, light-hearted backdrop – kudos to Adam Spreadbury-Maher for striking this fine balance.  A healthy dose of Abba in the second act may have offended the sensibilities of some purists but an open mind will put paid to any such reactions – it certainly had the audience’s hips shaking and bottoms wiggling!

The roles have been double-cast; I was fortunate to catch the tragic lovers Riccardo and Amelia being portrayed by Edward Hughes and Becca Marriott respectively.  Hughes commanded the challenging score magnificently; sustaining repeated high B flats with impressive stamina and resonance.  Marriot’s athletic arias were performed with panache and intelligence, and the two had a lovely chemistry.  The casting surprise of the evening was the trouser role (Oscar) being sung by male coloratura soprano Martin Milnes.  This added great comedy and spark to the show, and if one had closed their eyes they never would have known the difference!  The greatest comic injection, however, came from Olivia Barry’s portrayal of the fortune-teller Ulrica.  She had the audience in stitches with her witty interpretation, and delivered the epic role with great control and a rich, velvety mezzo.

As ever, a theatre of this size limits the scope for orchestral accompaniment.  However, the lightning fingers of Ben Woodward more than compensated for this – he handled this tour de force of a score with great dexterity – top marks.

Ballo runs until 25 May – book tickets here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, Mark McCloskey.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Bodean’s BBQ

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As I sat with my fellow diners on Tuesday, sampling the delights of Bodean’s menu, conversation topics ranged wildly, from Michael Hutchence’s living arrangements to Kim Jong-Un’s nuclear posturing. From this point, talk then turned to what we would choose as our last supper. After Tuesday’s dinner at Bodean’s, I think their unique brand of slow-cooked, smoked high quality meat could well be in with a chance of being my last meal, were North Korea to unleash Armageddon. If you are reading this, then we are probably safe for now, in which case my advice to you is to get yourself down to the nearest Bodean’s branch and tuck in.

My introduction to Bodean’s experience was a holistic one, as we were first taken to their smokehouse, where every week 7 tonnes of meat is smoked, ready for hungry customers in four different restaurants across London. Five top-secret smokers are in operation 24/7, smoking the various cuts of meat for anything between twelve and twenty-four hours. Secret recipes for the various seasonings were stuck to the walls all around the smokehouse (no spoilers here, dear reader), but having seen and smelled it all being prepared, we were all very keen to head back to the restaurant to taste it.

I ordered pulled pork and burnt ends, a spectacularly tender preparation of beef brisket, which arrived with fries and coleslaw. Bodean’s approach is very much a no-nonsense one, with food delivered up as if at a backyard barbeque or a laidback cookout, albeit the best barbeque you’ve ever attended. The waitresses were very helpful, suggesting various sauces specifically tailored for the various meats ordered from around the table. One pair from our party took on the mammoth Boss Hog Platter, which looked a mammoth task. Another chose Jacob’s Ladder, a unique dish of beef ribs. All in all, a spectacular array of slow-cooked deliciousness greeted us, and we were only too happy to polish it off.

To accompany the culinary delights, Bodean’s head mixologist Dave served us up some classic American drinks. The first was the intriguing Nevada Bellini, comprised of Jim Beam Black Label bourbon, mango purée, angostura bitters, agave syrup, and topped up with Sierra Nevada craft beer. On paper this represents an eclectic mix, that is unlikely to deliver a successful cocktail, but the resulting beverage was light, refreshing and delicious. This was followed by a cocktail made with interesting smoked vodka, served with creole bitters which gave the drink an aniseed flavour, finishing sweetly through the agave syrup. Dave saved the best for last, bringing us the “Devil’s Cut” after we had finished our mains. In the distillation process of whiskies, a stage of evaporation called “the angel’s share” means some of the whisky is lost, absorbed by the oak barrels. A new technique, which recaptures this liquid and re-blends it with the rest of the whisky, has given us “The Devil’s Cut”, and the results are remarkable. The added vanilla flavour from the reclaimed whisky was delicious, and despite having quite a kick to it, the Devil’s Cut was very smooth drinking. Several more were ordered.

So if you can find your way out of your nuclear bunker, and make your way through the post-apocalyptic fallout, tucking into a hearty portion of Bodean’s finest offerings will be well worth it.

More information here: www.bodeansbbq.com

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, James Bomford.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MISS: Four Seasons Bistro, Hampshire

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There are two restaurants to choose between whilst staying at the Four Seasons Hampshire Hotel; the ‘Seasons’ Restaurant, which offers a fine dining experience  or ‘The Bistro’, providing an array of British classics in a more relaxed, informal atmosphere. Arriving at the Hotel in what felt like Baltic weather conditions, there was nothing we wanted more than some good British grub to warm the cockles, so the Bistro suited our needs perfectly.

We were warmly welcomed by the staff and asked whether we would like to eat in the restaurant or in the more relaxed bar area. I think it is always nice to be given this choice, and I expect eating in the bar is a popular choice for business workers that stay during the week and families with young children who would like to dine in a less formal setting.

Within minutes of sitting down, we had been given large flutes of Louis Roederer Champagne and offered a selection of home made breads of which the fresh white roll with olives was my favourite. To start I chose the Caramelised onion and Gold Muddler local ale soup, served with welsh rarebit. The soup was incredibly fresh, with the right level of sweetness and the cheesy rarebit complimented the dish perfectly. Milly opted for the Warm Laverstoke buffalo mozzarella wrapped in pancetta and served with a black olive tapenade and sun dried tomato crostini. We both agreed that this was the winner out of the two, and the dish was demolished between us.

For main course, to satisfy our meat cravings I chose the Laverstoke Park Farm beef burger and Milly went for the Casterbridge sirloin steak. The burger arrived stacked high, layered with bacon, aged cheddar and crisp salad. The meat of the burger was finely ground and full of flavour, however if I was being fussy I would have liked it slightly rarer.The accompanying chunky chips were crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside, just the way I like them and some of the best I have tasted in a long time. Milly’s steak was served medium with a hot peppercorn sauce and skinny fries.The meat was incredibly juicy, tender and intense in flavour and the peppercorn sauce gave a lovely kick to the dish.  Now I am not a skinny fries kind of girl, but Milly assured me that these were incredibly good and continued to pick at them despite her repetitive announcements of being ‘so full’. In the end we had to request they were taken away so we could save room to squeeze in dessert.

Dessert was an easy decision as the waitress was passionate about one particular dish – Apple Pie with cinnamon ice-cream and hot caramel sauce. Luckily we had decided to share as the portion was huge and plenty for the two of us. The pie was comforting and wholesome, homemade and delicious, the ideal winter pudding. The cinnamon ice-cream was smooth and creamy and was beautiful served in a thin wafer basket. And the hot caramel sauce… wow… this was so good and disappeared in seconds. The waitress must have noticed and brought us another jug of the hot sticky heavenly stuff, which allowed us to both practically drown the apple pie. A cup of fresh mint tea concluded the meal wonderfully.

I would highly recommend the Bistro restaurant to anyone staying at the Four Seasons. It provides the perfect atmosphere for a relaxed and unpretentious meal, yet still retaining the air of sophistication that you would expect from a hotel in this class.

More information here.

www.fourseasons.com/hampshire/

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Miss, Susie Hemsted.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Steptoe and Son, Lyric Hammersmith

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I am comfortably too young to have formed a strong attachment to the classic Steptoe and Son, first of radio and then of television fame, at their first outing, but from my childhood I have vivid memories of listening to the iconic cadences of Harry H. Corbett and Wilfrid Brambell wafting out from the radio. The show revolved around Albert and Harold Steptoe, father and son rag and bone men, the former haggard and weary, the latter watching his years drain away as his frequently self-publicised “untapped-potential” goes to waste in the backstreets of Shepherds Bush. I was too young to get the majority of the jokes, not to mention the subtler inferences and witty references, but there was something absolutely perfect about Harry H. Corbett’s denouncement of his father, at least once an episode, as “you dirty *pause* old *pause* man”, and the lilting, plaintive tone with which Wilfrid Brambell called “Oh ‘Arold!” after his son. It is as a result of this idyllic recollection that I hold Steptoe and Son up on some sort of untouchable pedestal from my childhood, alongside jumping on my bed, accompanying my dad to the corner shop on a Saturday morning to buy him papers and me and my sister pick’n’mix sweets, and minimilk icelollies. If I ever revisit such experiences, they necessarily fall short of the perceived perfection associated with them.

Unfortunately the same could be said of Kneehigh’s production of Steptoe and Son. The show consisted of 4 short performances, in keeping with the episodic format of the classic version, and each one touched on central themes of the father-son relationship that underpins the whole drama. The Offer touches on the bittersweet bond between father and son, as Harold bemoans his lot in life, and threatens to leave the rag and bone business. This production admirably captures the underlying tension and resentment present in the father-son relationship, which the more obvious humour and light-hearted joking rests upon quite successfully. The drama was broken up throughout the show by brief dance numbers from the trio of actors, which worked well both in lightening the tone and displaying the three impressive pirouetting performers. The Bird centres on Harold’s chronic lack of success in his romantic life, and Albert’s efforts to undermine and hold him back for his own gain. Mike Shepherd’s Albert almost succeeded in relaying the dichotomy of his actions – acutely selfish and painfully tragic in equal measure – but it fell just short of what I, in my nostalgic excitement, was expecting.

In the second half, The Holiday explored similar ideas of Harold seeking to move on by booking a holiday to “Sant Morrits”, while Albert instead advocates returning to Bognor. Great use of the staging brought this particular sketch to life. This was a hallmark of the whole production, particularly of the central “cart”, which doubled as the house, the front door, the upstairs bedroom and the downstairs kitchen. Finally, Two’s Company, the longest and most developed drama. Albert returns home late one night, and after much interrogation, Harold finds that he has asked a woman to marry him. When Albert brings her to the house, Harold realises that he and she have a complicated past… This episode is Kirsty Woodward’s real chance to shine, having been more or less non-speaking in the previous three, and she delivers a successful performance as Albert’s fiancé. This is probably the greatest example of the self-destructive nature of the father-son connection, and the best-constructed episode of the whole performance. All in all it is a solid attempt at capturing the Steptoe and Son legacy, but listening to Harry H. and Wilfrid while devouring a minimilk it ain’t.

Finishes tomorrow, more information here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, James Bomford.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MISS: CrackBird, Dublin

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I had received warnings shortly after arriving in Dublin that a trip to CrackBird could be dangerous, for, as the name implies, it can easily become an addictive habit. As a result, I held off until I had a particular visitor to stay who I knew would appreciate the opportunity to eat ‘posh KFC’ guilt-free.

Although essentially fried chicken is what CrackBird does, comparisons between this restaurant and that well known American fast food chain are meaningless. The owners of CrackBird are a very successful restaurateur team who also own Jo’Burger and Skinflint. These restaurants too, have taken the foods that we hate to love (burgers and pizzas respectively) and elevated them to new heights with quirky touches and culinary flair.

Located on Dame Street, just south of Temple Bar, the simplistic wooden banner above the full-length windows make CrackBird easy to spot among the neon lights of its neighbouring restaurants. And inside, the individuality of this busy spot continues, with walls decked with cool art works, wooden tables, and trendy looking staff. One look at your placemat, which handily doubles as the menu, will tell you that you really need to like chicken to enjoy a meal here. CrackBird does not falter in its intention to serve up Ireland’s most commonly eaten meat, but it aims to do so in an imaginative and most importantly, downright delicious, way.

CrackBird’s focus on chicken is so intense that the Menu is devoid of a single dessert. Certainly surprising, but it made us feel slightly less guilty about ordering a meal of a size to make the Irish rugby team proud. Between the two of us we chose a half-bucket (4 pieces – a thigh, drumstick, wing and a breast) of Buttermilk Chicken, the same order of Soy and Garlic Chicken, and some Chicken brochettes with a curry yoghurt crust. To accompany the star ingredient, we opted for some hand rolled croquettes, some sweet potato noodles, a carrot and cranberry salad, and on recommendation from friends who frequently visit CrackBird to feed their addiction, the burnt lemon and whipped feta sauce.

Like the style of the restaurant itself, the food was presented in a relaxed yet well-considered manner, which highlighted its inventiveness. Just managing to restrain ourselves until the waiter was a reasonable distance from our table, we delved into the buckets and commenced our chicken fix. The chicken was everything it should be: tender, juicy, and with expertly crisped skin. Both the buttermilk and the soy and garlic coatings gave great depth of flavour; the former offered both creaminess and a crunch, while the latter provided warmth and a well-measured saltiness. The curry yoghurt crust on the brochettes was another inspired topping, which worked perfectly with the sweetness from the carrot salad. The croquettes could have been marginally crispier, and I wasn’t taken with the noodles which, served cold, were a strange, almost slimy texture, but these were minor complaints. With a lashing of the feta sauce, which would have worked wonders on far inferior dishes, I was more than satisfied.

With chicken now so readily available at often very cheep (sorry) prices, it is easy to forget that it is a bird which, if cooked skillfully, can hold its own against its meatier rivals. A visit to CrackBird is a successful reminder of this, and it was a relief that the cost of the (exceptionally large) lunch was reasonable (€50), as I have no doubt I will be joining the crowds who give into temptation and head back for more.

More information here: www.joburger.ie/crackbird.html

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Miss, Lucy Freedman.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MISS: Whitefriar Grill, Dublin

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It is a big claim when a restaurant promotes themselves as “the best”, and one that in my experience invariably leads to disappointment, so it was with trepidation that I booked a table at Whitefriar Grill on Aungier Street for a lazy Sunday morning brunch. After a walk up the canal to build up appetites, we arrived at a modest restaurant front below a red awning. The lack of ostentation surprised me – for a restaurant so ready to boast about itself, I was almost anticipating a red carpet welcome. A step through the small porch brought us face to face with another unexpected addition – a DJ booth complete with DJ – not exactly the ideal hangover cure. Or so we thought.

Actually, the atmosphere in the compact restaurant was exactly what was needed for the occasion. The DJ played well, with a good mix of well-known tracks and a few more eclectic jazz sounds, but nothing which interrupted conversation. Like its exterior, the inside of the restaurant is devoid of flashiness: exposed brick walls, wooden furniture and a central wooden bar keep things simple, with flashes of red from the curtains, a few quirky art works on the walls, and little plants in metal plant pots adding just enough detail to keep things interesting.

The restaurant was buzzing with fellow brunch-goers, many of whom appeared to be regulars, satisfied that they had settled on the best brunch spot in town. Despite the constant stream, service was slick but also friendly. My companions had suitcases which were immediately taken by the Maître D’, and a jug of water and glasses appeared on our table without request. Small things maybe, but they were noticed and appreciated.

So far, the Whitefriar Grill was ticking all the boxes, but obviously, the proof is in the eating, and so we began a comprehensive examination of the menu. If I am out for dinner, or even for lunch, I normally look to try something new, and appreciate a chef who picks unusual ingredients. However, brunch is the ultimate comfort food, and alongside twists on the classics, I was hoping for the choice of some old favourites: there are some dishes that just shouldn’t be messed with. Fortunately, the chefs at Whitefriar Grill agreed with me, and the Menu was an excellent balance of familiar flavours and a few more ‘exotic’ options. While we deliberated, we enjoyed the Whitefriar’s virgin cocktail, L’Orange – muddled orange with grenadine, fresh limes, sugar and topped with 7Up – which was not too sweet and deliciously refreshing.

After much consideration, between us we opted for the ‘Whitefriar Grill’, the ‘Vegetarian Eggs Benedict’, and the ‘Gambas Benedict with spinach, avocado salsa and lemon hollandaise.’ All three dishes were cleanly presented on rectangular white plates. The lack of distracting garnishes demonstrated the restaurant’s confidence in its food, and rightly so, as it all looked incredibly tasty. The meat components of the Whitefriar Grill were all top quality – the black pudding was a particular high point. The lack of toast was a little surprising, and we were slightly taken aback by having to pay an extra €2 for a side, but it was properly grilled sourdough bread so our irritation was swiftly forgotten. The Gambas Benedict was a very intelligently constructed dish. There was just enough lemon both to cut through the richness of the hollandaise and to complement the gambas. The subtle heat from the avocado salsa added an extra dimension, and the muffin was lovely and light, and acted as the perfect sponge for the sauce. Both the Benedicts came with thick cut chips: an unnecessary but nevertheless, welcome addition, especially when they were dipped into the homemade baked beans accompanying the Whitefriar Grill.

Full, but willing to indulge our sweet teeth on a special treat, we ordered the chocolate fondue to round off the meal. The proportions of the dish were a little out – we ended up inelegantly spooning the chocolate from the fondue bowl once we had finished off the pineapple chunks, homemade marshmallow and some out of this world peanut butter fudge – but the chocolate was excellent quality so this wasn’t too much of a problem.

I am hesitant to accept the Whitefriar Grill’s label as the ‘best brunch spot in Dublin’, but this is mainly because there are so many alternatives I have yet to try that it would be unfair to agree without further investigation. However, I am happy to conclude that for atmosphere, service, price (our bill came to €45), and most importantly, for food, the Whitefriar grill deserves a great deal of praise. Without any pretension, it delivers exactly what is needed on a Sunday morning.

More information: www.whitefriargrill.ie

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Miss, Lucy Freedman.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Espresso Martinis at Forge and Foundry, Camden

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It was nervously that I arrived at the Forge and Foundry last week, for a dinner to launch their newest cocktail, the Espresso Martini. For a coffee-avoider such as myself, this was a relatively daunting drink, but one that slipped down a real treat, particularly after the first one.

We met for drinks before the dinner, and the barman talked us through the recipe. The cocktail is a creation of the legendary Dick Bradsell, the “cocktail king” of 1980s London. It requires one and a half measures vodka, half a measure Kalhua, and the all-important measure of fresh espresso. The source of the particular espresso used by the Forge and Foundry is as charming as it is local. George, an elderly owner of a café located a few doors down from the restaurant, has been roasting a secret blend of Arabica beans for 36 years. The roasters he uses were built between 85 and 100 years ago, and luckily he can keep them in perfect working order, given his training as a mechanic in earlier life. Every day, he wanders down to the Forge and Foundry, and has coffee with the barmen there, and of course tinkers with the machines, offering advice on the coarseness of the grind, and the amount of water required.

The cocktail itself is surprisingly smooth, and despite not being a coffee aficionado, I found myself really warming to the espresso bitterness that perfectly complemented the smoothness of the vodka and the sweetness of the Kalhua. The second, and third went down even more nicely, and each glass was met with sounds of approval from all round the table.

The dinner itself was average, unfortunately, and didn’t quite live up to the promise of the cocktails. The gourmet ploughman’s platters were solid but rather uninspiring, with the Blacksticks blue cheese and Keens mature cheddar proving to be the highlight. The honey-roast and Parma hams were everything you would expect, and nothing more. For the main course, I chose the duck breast, served with an orange sauce, cocoa powder and plantain chips. The duck was a little overcooked, and the plantain chips had no reason to be on the plate. Texturally they were more like casino chips than edible ones. My companions at the table opted for the sea bass, and that looked a better decision. The highlight was undoubtedly the desserts, all round the table. My chocolate marquise with vanilla cream, hazelnuts, saffron marshmallow and strawberry sauce was divine, and the pastry chef Juan Pablo really impressed with his other offerings of Tocino del Cielo – a Spanish crème caramel dish – and the Lady Grey tea cake, with a nutty centre and wonderful “white chocolate soup”.

All in all, the Espresso Martini itself was a great surprise, and well worth a try, and the dessert section really was the jewel in the menu’s crown. Some shortcomings in the savoury offerings, however, meant that this was a slightly disappointing meal.

More information here. The Forge has just launched a new music event every Saturday called Fired Up at the Forge. With free entry from 7.30pm, it will play host to the best of new and breaking talent across the UK, focusing on live music and DJ sets.

www.foundrycamden.co.uk

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, James Bomford.

 

THOROUGHLY MODERN MISS: Fade Street Social, Dublin

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Over the past five months, I have come to view Dubliners as the most upbeat and fun-loving people: this, despite continuous news of the dire state of their economy. Their enjoyment of a good time is infectious, and their ability to drink is infamous. However Dublin as a drinking capital perhaps overshadows its reputation as a culinary centre. The city may have taken longer than many of its western counterparts to catch on to the business of ‘eating out’, but in the last few decades, Dublin has branched out far beyond its roots, and opened its eyes to international cuisine in a serious way.

The fact that despite the recession, not only are established restaurants flourishing but there is space, and indeed demand for, new eateries, including Dylan McGrath’s latest venture, Fade Street Social, is testament to Dublin’s commitment to improving its position in the food world. Of course, a name like Dylan McGrath (judge of Irish Masterchef among other accolades), provides certain advantages from a marketing point of view, but also raises expectations. Dubliners may have entered the food scene belatedly, but they are a discerning crowd, and the premature closure of Gary Rhodes’ Rhodes D7 in 2009 is proof that they will not be won over by a name alone. So with this in mind, it was with a truly Irish attitude that I entered Fade Street Social on a wet and windy Wednesday evening to sample for myself the newest hot spot in Dublin city centre.

The project to convert 8000 sq ft of space on Fade Street into a one stop gastronomic destination began in July 2012 and the care and consideration taken with the interior design is clear to see. The use of warm colour, and bench-style tables, copper napkin rings and specially commissioned ‘street art’ illustrations on the Tapas menus, combine to create a perfect relaxed modern environment. Satisfied diners improve the atmosphere of any restaurant, but McGrath has ensured that his customers will feel confident the moment they sit down by opting for an open kitchen, and by hiring well informed, attentive, but far from stuffy, waiting staff. The ground floor is split into a Restaurant and a Tapas bar, while upstairs there is further space to enjoy the Tapas, and also a ‘drinks only’ area with low cow-skin seating and quirky wooden tables.

In order to make the most of my visit, I joined some friends who were eating in the restaurant, before moving on to the Tapas bar to enjoy some nibbles and cocktails myself. Reports on the restaurant food were resoundingly positive. The flatbreads from the ‘Woodfired’ section of the Menu were described as incredibly satisfying without being heavy, with such interesting taste combinations – the pumpkin, pork and chestnut in particular – that it was no struggle to finish the healthy portions. The Salmon with crab sauce under the ‘Charred and Smoked’ heading, with Cauliflower fondant roasted in nut-brown butter as a side was apparently mouthwateringly good. If Dylan McGrath were a contestant rather than a judge on Masterchef, he would have been delighted with the feedback.

There is an increasing trend towards experimental cooking. This is undoubtedly something that should be encouraged, but I have found on other occasions that the resulting dishes have fallen short of my expectations. Fortunately, there are no such problems at Fade Street Social. The Tapas Menu makes for an exciting and amusing read, and the food that arrived, delivered every way that I had hoped. Mini Lobster Hotdogs with melted hazelnut butter in a brioche roll, Crispy Chicken pieces served with truffle popcorn, and Pumpkin Macaroni with spring onion and Parmesan all demonstrated a perfect balance of fun, flavour and ingenuity. There is little in the way of subtlety, and there is no holding back in the use of cream and butter, but as long as you eat the dishes in the Tapas style (and you aren’t on a diet), then I would be surprised to hear any complaints.

I am struggling to find fault with Fade Street Social, and it would seem that the rest of Dublin is inclined to agree with me if the stream of eager diners entering the restaurant throughout the evening is anything to go by. Yes, the prices are fairly steep in the restaurant, but (depending on how restrained you are) actually the Tapas menu is very reasonable, with dishes between €6 and €10. If the initial level of popularity continues, it may be a while before there is a spare table, but it is certainly a table worth saving up for.

More information here.

http://www.fadestreetsocial.com/

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Miss, Lucy Freedman.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Liam O’Connor, Ronnie Scott’s

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If before Wednesday afternoon you had asked me whether an accordion player could ever be a rock star, I wouldn’t even have dignified such a ridiculous question with an answer. This week I was made to reassess that position, by none other than Liam O’Connor, a supremely talented multi-instrumentalist from County Cork. Not only has Liam performed alongside the biggest name in Irish music, as one of the original lead musicians in Michael Flatley’s Lord of the Dance, but he also holds the impressive Guinness Record for the “fastest fingers in the world”, which we would soon experience, from a safe distance – “Jimi Hendrix of the accordion” is not a title given out lightly.

I have been to Ronnie Scott’s many times before, but never at midday, and never to see an accordion performance. After a brief delay for sound checks, Liam O’Connor took to the stage. Ably supported by his band, and his own children on a variety of traditional Irish instruments, Liam proceeded to deliver an hour of infectious toe-tapping, whirling, dazzling musicianship. Quickly discarding his signature leather jacket, he threw himself into the performance, covering every inch of the stage, caught up in his own music. More frequently than I, and anybody for that matter, could imagine, Liam found himself lying on the floor, eyes firmly shut as his record-breaking fingers dashed up an down the keys of the accordion. After feeling briefly uncomfortable as only the British can at such a show, I settled back and succumbed to the foot tapping and hand clapping.

Liam stuck mainly to the accordion, showing how gracefully one can manoeuvre such a cumbersome box around, often swinging precariously in one hand as he flew round the stage in a frenzied trance. Highlights of the hour long set were Local Hero and Tico Tico (the track he performed for his world record) which both feature on the album, as does Harmonium. For Lark, Liam took up the “low whistle”, which aside from being a compliment in some neighbourhoods around Ronnie Scott’s, is also a classical Irish instrument. I have to admit, while impressive and catchy, it was a little too close to Ron Burgundy’s jazz flute routine for my taste.

Only one moment could perhaps have taken away from what was a wholly enjoyable afternoon, and that centred on the Rasta Reel, Liam’s unique take on Bob Marley’s iconic No Woman No Cry. It was a wonderful performance, and if it had taken place in the evening, to a packed house, I’m sure we would have had no qualms about being asked to head to the stage and sing and dance along. But this was midday on a Wednesday, Ronnie’s was half full, not enough wine had been consumed, and we were all extremely middle class about it all. As Liam bravely gestured to the assembled shufflers to sing along, the band’s volume lulled, and we were treated to the reedy, shifting choir of whispering voices, half-heartedly advising some mythical woman not to cry. I felt like Hugh Grant in About a Boy, when they sing with their eyes closed.

This aside, it was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon, and I would recommend anyone with an interest in good music, or accordions, or both, to head over to the Killarney Avenue Hotel this summer, where Liam is performing throughout the summer months (more information here). If that’s too far for you to go, however, there’s always his cd.

www.liamoconnormusic.com

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, James Bomford.

 

THOROUGHLY MODERN MISS: Indie Dhaba, Dublin

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I have to admit that as much as I love going out to eat, I suffer from that well known condition which can sometimes spoil the occasion: Menu Panic. There have been many times when I have left my companions waiting as I dither over my choice, only to spend the rest of the meal enviously eyeing up their plates and subtly suggesting that it would be nice to share. Tapas restaurants do offer a solution to the problem, but there’s only so many patatas bravas a girl can eat, so news that a restaurant bringing ‘Tapas style dining to Indian food’ had opened in Dublin city centre, was music to my ears.

Situated in an innocuous building on St Anne’s Lane in the centre of Dublin, two floors below ground level, Indie Dhaba is a surprise to all the senses… low lighting in a range of colours matching the brightly coloured crockery (and as we were soon to find out, also the mini pappadums and fryums), lively music creating a very buzzy atmosphere and smells to tempt even the most unyielding of taste buds.

Once seated, and with menus in front of us, we began the epic task of choosing what to have. My hopes of quick decisions were swiftly dashed (in the end, we had to ask a passing waiter for some help with translations), but the structure of the ‘tapas style’ menu meant that I wasn’t going to be stealing from my companion’s plate when she wasn’t looking. After some deliberation, we chose Pappadums and Fryums topped with Indian Vegetable Ratatouille, and some mathari sticks with a selection of four dips to nibble on while we sipped on a Ginger Rogers and a Pineapple and Cardamom Martini. Unfortunately, there was little of our Small Plates left by the time the cocktails arrived – a sign of how moreish they were but also an illustration of the slow service which continued throughout the evening. However, both cocktails were very refreshing and the use of spices was a pleasant change from the often overly sweet syrups used in so many drinks.

It was hard to tell whether the ad hoc arrival of our Large Plates was deliberate or not, but it allowed us to savour the taste of some truly delicious dishes. A simply served whole sea-bass, in a marinade of shrimp, green chilli, coconut, coriander, turmeric and kokum paste was stunning. Without overpowering the delicate fish, the marinade was warming yet fresh, and with a squeeze of lemon juice, the dish was complete; no other accompaniment necessary. We were slightly more conventional with our second Large Plate, picking from the Old Favourites section a Lamb dish cooked with apricot and plum sauce with whole Indian spices. Eaten with Brown Onion Pulao rice and a truly indulgent fig and goat’s cheese naan, this was comfort food with a twist, at its best.

The continued lack of attention from the waiters actually had one advantage as we had plenty of time to digest and make room for desserts. The dessert list didn’t disappoint in its display of authenticity and ingenuity, but with not quite enough room for more rice (this time in the form of a chocolate rice pudding), we opted for Rose-petal and Gulab Jamun Cheesecake, and a selection of Ice creams. The cheesecake was heavy but had a delectably creamy flavour and the rose water sorbet provided a welcome contrast. The ice creams themselves were very tasty – the chocolate in particular was a good balance of richness and sweetness – but what we had assumed to be a chocolate sauce on the side of the plate, turned out to be a caramelized balsamic glaze, which overpowered the ice cream and left an unpleasant aftertaste – a step too far in experimental cooking.

For three courses and two cocktails each, the bill came to just under €100 (£84), more reasonable than many of the restaurants of this level in Dublin. If the benefit of the doubt is given to Indie Dhaba, and the undeniably poor service is put down to teething problems, then it is certainly a place that deserves recommendation (maybe a few weeks down the road). The atmosphere is ideal for dinner with friends, and both the food and cocktail menus step away from the norm and nine times out of ten succeed in delivering interesting and delicious taste sensations.

More information on the restaurant here.

http://www.dhaba.ie/

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Miss, Lucy Freedman