© 2009-2011 Quality Eating and Drinking London Ltd


© 2009-2011 Quality Eating and Drinking London Ltd

Articles in InQEDible category

Reflected glory, or bedazzlement?

How often do we hear of something defined in "aiming-off" orienteering terms? You know the score — "the poor man's Arsenal" (though after today's showing, surely Arsenal are the poor man's Arsenal?), or "East Kilbride's answer to David Attenborough". Though I still prefer the honesty of "I am to golf what Mozart was to fluid dynamics".

Yesterday, I saw (and tasted) an interesting looking little cheese called l'Édel de Cléron. Dainty, semi-soft, rinded, spruce-girdled, from Franche-Comté. Tuck in, and it's rich with mountain milk, slightly tangy (but not aggressively so), and quite addictive. But when I went to the Web to find out more, I found out less. Just about every reference called it faux vacherin. I'm sorry, vacherin is vacherin, and this is its own master. The few sites which did not call it vacherin tried to call it a mountain brie. Great: is that like an Essex haggis?

Yes, we all relativise, whether it's "a hint of juhfark in this wine", or "that gjetost is like Stenhousemuir toffee", or the more (ahem) mainstream "cat's pee on a gooseberry bush". Is it useful, or is it lazy?

Answers, please, via the comment box below.

Vintage stuff

Seen on a carton of fruit juice from a well-known supermarket today:

   Made in Spain, 1950

Obviously a very good year for apples.

What links Camberley, sake and aborigines?

Last night I dreamt of Camberley.

I know, it looks like Miss Joan Hunter-Dunn's been down at the Jamaica Inn once too often. But that was the line that floated into my head as we chose our tapas at a refurbished and under-new-management restaurant on the outskirts of Metroland.

Regular readers may recall our earlier brush with restaurantese, but this one took the prize for wide-ranging peculiarities, being almost as good as the English translations on the menu at a nice place beneath Karlstejn castle (SW of Prague), whose best was undoubtedly the pipe apples (matchstick chips, pommes allumettes: they knew it was something to do with smokers' requisites). Here in the Home Counties, they were going for broke. One of the main courses offered sake wings (round here, these fish are normally called skate), while they'd do well to hide the berenjenas, described as baked aborigines rather than aubergines, from the anti-cannibal police, especially given the closeness of the Australian cemetery. But they held their best back for the dessert menu, where the crème catalan (surely crema catalana?) was translated as Camberley. We thought of army colleges and even the A30, until we realised that it was a distant homophonic cousin of crème brulée.

InQEDible, just inQEDible.

Oh, the food? Two of our four tapas were really quite good, the other two 'could do better'. Desserts need more work (and less cooking).


All of QEDLife