Posts Tagged ‘Hurricane Irene’
- In: London | Travelling
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‘When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.’ Samuel Johnson
I was delayed by Hurricane Irene in New York for two days and my direct flight London was rescheduled to one connecting via Amsterdam. Thank goodness I arrived in time to attend the wedding but I was reduced to just Saturday in London.
We missed the wedding of dear friends earlier this year in Australia. They have since moved to London and I had lunch with the newlyweds at Jamie’s Italian.
The flagship Covent Garden restaurant is spacious and lively. Seasonal produce are stacked in crates by the entrance, fresh pasta is handmade at the front, a bench is laden with crusty loaves of bread and the dining room features a charcuterie counter with legs of prosciutto di Parma dangling on hooks.
White tiles with black accents line the walls, Jamie Oliver branded products and cookbooks are neatly displayed on shelves, and wooden tables are matched to red lacquered chairs. Patrons sang a jovial rendition of ‘happy birthday’ when a cake with candles was delivered to a nearby table by staff.
The menu is divided into nibbles, antipasti, pasta, secondi and sides. As I browsed the menu, I could hear Jamie Oliver’s distinctive Essex accent reading it to me! We picked our courses between convivial conversations.
Mr M ordered crispy squid as an appetiser. Lightly floured and served with ‘really garlicky mayo’, a squeeze of lemon freshened the tender tentacles.
Mrs M and I had a crispy courgette flower each. Stuffed with four cheeses, lemon and mint, the golden zucchini flower was drenched in a puddle of olive and tomato sauce. I prefer battered to crumbed but it was rich and tangy.
Mr and Mrs M both selected main courses with squid ink. Mr M had scallop and squid ink spaghetti with chilli, parsley, anchovies, wine and capers. The snowy scallops contrasted with the black pasta. I twirled a few strands around my fork and it was deliciously briny.
Night on a plate, the crab and squid ink risotto had a mound of shredded crab meat and ‘crunchy herby breadcrumbs’.
A beautiful lemon colour, my bucatini carbonara was coated with egg and parmesan and dotted with pancetta and leek. The slippery buccatini is hollow in the middle and it was a smoky and simple lunch.
Mr M was full but the ladies welcomed the dolci menu with glee! A decadent treat, Mrs M selected a slice of chocolate and espresso tart with glazed figs and orange crème fraîche.
I defaulted to my favourite of tiramisù. On a rustic plate, the wedge of Italian dessert was layered sideways and covered with lemon zest.
It was lovely to spend the afternoon with Aussie friends, strolling the cobbled streets of ye olde London.
There was an ominous feeling on the Saturday of Hurricane Irene. Blanket television coverage droning on about this, that and the other, the solemnity Mayor Bloomberg’s news conferences, declarations of state of emergency, mandatory evacuation orders, and the shutdown of the Subway and all New York airports all amplified the forboding.
Although I joined the grocery store queues and stocked up on bottled water, some muesli bars and a large bag of almonds, I felt safe in Midtown Manhattan.
The apocalyptic photos of an empty Grand Central Terminal and deserted Times Square were transmitted across the world. The streets were eerily devoid of people and silent of honking as the city stoically awaits the ferocious hurricane.
Most stores were closed and only a few eateries were open. Ms H did a search and found Marché du Sud on the Upper East Side.
We walked there from opposite directions in the torrential rain, thankful that the hurricane winds were still several hours away. The entrance to Marché du Sud is divided into the dining area and patio on the left, and the bakery and gourmet market on the right.
Cold and dripping wet, I was relieved to be indoors. A long and narrow room with the bar at the front and an open kitchen at the back, the space was homely and comfortable.
The laminated menu had a tabloid magazine as its cover. There were set menus available but curiously these were cash only.
We selected two items to share. The specialty is Alsatian tarte flambée or French pizza. Thin and crispy, the l’authentique had crème fraîche, lardon, caramelised onions and Gruyère. Plain in appearance, it was a delicious combination of flavours.
We should have ordered a second French pizza! The Belgian waffles were unfortunately a little dry but easily remedied with extra cream.
Hunger sated, we strolled a couple of blocks in search of gumboots for Ms H. You’ll smile at this cute photo!
- In: New York | Travelling
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‘In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made;
there’s nothing you can’t do, now you’re in New York.’
My first visit to New York was in 1999 on a family holiday. We were en route to Europe and three days in the Big Apple marked the half way point of a round the world trip. I remember shopping at the mall in the concourse of the World Trade Center, surprised that it was Westfield branded. I have a framed photo displayed at home that was taken in the crown of the Statue of Liberty.
We travelled to New York last year to attend the wedding of a dear friend. With photos in Central Park, and the ceremony and reception at Public in the Lower East Side, it was the quintessential New York celebration. We also had our first momofuku experience that week. I had read about David Chang when he visited Australia (he will open momofuku seiōbo in Sydney later this year) and was keen to dine at one of his restaurants. Four of us were defeated by the fried chicken dinner!
I was in New York last week during Hurricane Irene. Before Manhattan was shut down, I had a quiet lunch at momofuku má pêche.
A convenient Midtown location, the restaurant has a narrow entrance and the street frontage is occupied by the milk bar.
The main dining room is below but I sat in the bar area upstairs. The space is lit by an amber glow and the bar itself is perched on a mezzanine level overlooking communal tables downstairs.
Small paintings cover the walls and there are two alcoves with half a dozen tables plus counter seating.
I’m yet to sample the famed steamed pork buns and unfortunately it was not part of the prix-fixe menu. At twenty five dollars for three courses, it was good value by New York standard.
I selected the summer rolls for an appetiser. Silken tofu, shredded lettuce and a crispy wonton cigar were wrapped in rice paper, and served with hoisin sauce and peanuts. These were refreshing and a healthy alternative to spring rolls.
A noodle fiend, I chose the rice noodles for the main. It was a fiery bowl of minced pork, bok choy, basil and cherry tomatoes. Although tasty, I struggled with the spiciness and I had to pause several times to gulp water.
A compost cookie from the milk bar concluded the meal. Sweet and chewy, the waiter described the compost cookie as ‘leftover ingredients smashed together’. I loved that the bill was delivered with a complimentary postcard!
I had intended on returning for the steamed pork buns, and a soft serve and a slice of crack pie from the milk bar but Mother Nature cancelled that plan for me with a state of emergency declared for Hurricane Irene.
