London Gastro-Pubs: Ten Years Ago

 [Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  December 17, 2012]

In New York, the term "gastro-pub" has come to mean a bar serving traditional British delicacies like fish'n'chips, bangers'n'mash, and toad-in-the-hole.  The origins of the term could hardly be more different.

Gastro-pubs in the UK strived for more ambitious cuisine.  The original -- The Eagle -- served a Mediterranean menu; some hosted Thai kitchens; anything but scotch eggs and meat pies.

I ate at a couple of authentic gastro-pubs in London, ten years ago this week.  The very able Rosie Sykes was cooking at The Sutton Arms, where I put away a torchon of foie gras, followed by a dish of pork belly with red cabbage and spiced pears -- in days when pork belly was still rarely seen on menus.  Cheese and fruit to finish up.

The Lord Palmerston, named for the forthright Prime Minister, was in Tufnell Park.  I visited for roast guinea fowl, and a soup which passes without further details in my diary.  I also took the opportunity that week to visit Borough Market in a cold downpour, as well as Tate Modern for a huge Barnett Newman retrospective.

The week concluded with me volunteering my services as guest "chef" at a friend's house.  This was not an entirely selfless offer. The one thing New York doesn't offer is a range of wild game in season (no, farmed rabbits and quail are not wild game).  I really missed cooking it, so I dropped by Harrod's food halls, and armed with bounty put together a menu of:

Crépinettes de sanglier, sauce moutarde

"Quesadilla" de perdrix

Salmi de widgeon

Tarte de citron

Actually, our hostess whipped up the lemon tart.

The crépinettes were more like little, flat, wild board sausages (I didn't mess with caul fat).  I chopped partridge breast and dark meat for the quesadillas. Widgeon is a wild duck, even funkier than mallard.

Home the next day on a flight to New York, with Louis Althusser's autobiography, and John Ashbery's new collection, Chinese Whispers.