Choo choo track

We went on a family outing last Sunday to see a different side of London: the hip East End. I had recently read an article about camel pie that attemptied to make the point that the British were getting more adventurous in their eating habits. The camel meat was described as having “a texture almost identical to beef, with a taste between venison and mutton.” I’m sorry but this doesn’t sound nearly as adventurous as jellied eels, something the British have been enjoying in pie form since the beginning of time.

With this thought in mind, our patrol ventured out in search of jellied eel pie, a staple of the East End. Leo was armed with his usual assortment of Thomas trains. Near the Old Spitalfields Market we spotted St. John Bread and Wine, the younger sibling of the intrepid culinary institution St. John. Surely they would have jellied eel pie or at least something equally beastly!

Mercifully we were spared. It was very busy but we snagged a table. Dazed from our wandering and under pressure from Leo we quickly ordered our lunch. Salad, duck liver prunes and bacon, potted pork and rabbit, cheese plate all to be washed down with a 2004 COTES DU ROUSSILLON Domaine Boudau ‘Le Clos’. The excellent bread basket arrived quickly and was devoured on impact. Did we eat breakfast? Everything was yummy with the possible exception of the duck liver and prunes. The salad was impressive for a carnivore establishment: a very delicate dressing on equally delicate greens (known as Boston Lettuce in the US) with a bit of spearmint mixed in. Still we weren’t convinced that we made the best selections but all in all it was a tasty blur.

Bored with the whole adventure, Leo assembled pieces of the various dishes on his trains for makeshift Thomas sushi. As they say after practically every event in the Thomas the train videos: “luckily no one was hurt.”

To test yourself, you’ll need:

• Blue food coloring
• Q-tips (or something to dab the food coloring on your tongue – I used a paper towel)
• Piece of paper with a standard (7mm) hole punched in it.
• Magnifying glass or camera with close-up macro mode

Procedure:

• Dab the blue food coloring on the tip of your tongue
• place the piece of paper with the hole in it on the tip of your tongue
• Using the magnifiying glass, count the pink dots (your papillae) in the hole or take a close-up photo.

Evaluation:

• If you count less than 15 papillae, you’re a non-taster.
• Between 15 and 35, you’re a regular taster.
• Over 35, you’re a supertaster.

I counted 27, so I’m a regular taster. Damn! The picture on the right isn’t a bunch botrytised grapes; it’s a 7mm diameter part of my tongue with blue food coloring on it.

To find out more about supertasters go to the BBC’s Science and Nature.

The space is minimal and fairly industrial; one part gallery, one part abattoir and one part medieval food hall. The chef originally trained as an architect and the environment he’s created seems to fit the menu fairly well. We started with drinks at the bar, which also looks like a good place for an after work drink and a light supper. There we discussed such erudite topics as London real estate prices and why people don’t eat liver anymore over a bottle of 2003 Cuvee Anderena Irouleguy Blanc; a medium-full bodied, surprisingly deep yellow, fresh and lemony white that also served us well into our first course. The only complaint I really have with St. John is that most of their wines are served in water goblets, but at over ₤35 price per bottle you actually get a real wine glass. Note to St. John: stop this nonsense!

It’s a real treat to have a good waiter. He was unpretentious, friendly, efficient and unlike many US waiters he didn’t give his name; an excellent ambassador for the restaurant. His recommendations for first-timers were Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley and Lamb’s Tongues & Greens for starters and Calf’s Kidneys and Pig’s Intestines (they had better names on the menu) for main courses. Just as the old waiter’s cliché goes, everything was good. Outstanding were the Marrow, which was perfectly cooked and succulent on toast, and Intestines, which tasted like a tender sweet juicy ham. The kidneys, a staple in British cooking, were a little difficult for the Americans at the table. By the time we reached the main courses we had moved on to a 2002 Arnoux Père et Fils “Les Confrelins” Chorey-lès-Beaune, a rich, unpretentious, moderately fruity red Burgundy that found its way into real wine glasses. All the food was English, locally sourced from organic farms (not nearby Smithfield’s meat market), while the excellent wine list is all French. Dessert was an excellent and rich chocolate pot topped off with one of the few wines that can accompany chocolate, a 2003 Domaine Boudau Rivesaltes sur Grains. All in all a great experience; I can easily see why this is Nick Lander’s – the Financial Times food editor -favorite restaurant.

St. JOHN BAR & RESTAURANT
26 St. John Street, London EC1M 4AY.
Tel. 020 7251 0848 Fax. 020 7251 4090 Office. 020 7251 4080

*Offal is actually banned for human consumption in the UK and very sorry about the dumb pun.

As a huge fan of Rhone Syrahs from Cornas to Cote Rotie, the memory of an excellent 2001 Chapoutier La Sizeranne Hermitage I had for New Year’s dinner definitely influences this note.

2003 Stonecroft Syrah, Hawkes Bay, New Zealand

This is a wine that does not want to be confused with a Shiraz (Australian for Syrah). Hawkes Bay is further south than most Shiraz producing areas in neighboring Australia and just as New Zealand Pinot Noirs look towards Burgundy for inspiration, this Syrah is more along the lines of a Rhone wine than an Australian. Stonecroft planted its first Syrah in 1984, the oldest in New Zealand but quite young by French or Australian standards.

Eye: I don’t recall ever seeing a Syrah this light in color; it’s a medium purple-ruby.

Nose: Moderately aromatic, spicy, smoky black cherry and clove with a little whiff of leather/cumin. It seems like the last part is from a touch of Brett but otherwise the wine is squeaky clean, very similar to the way New Zealand Pinot Noir can be considered a fresh clean style of Burgundy.

Palate: The black cherry and clove come through but just as there is little color, there is little flavor intensity, a real letdown considering the promise of its aroma. In a blind taste I wouldn’t have guessed this was a Syrah, but perhaps a Cru Beaujolais.

Conclusions: I’ve never had this wine before so the weaknesses I found may be due to a less than optimal harvest. I would probably try it again in another vintage. I like the low cropping, hand harvesting and low intervention philosophy of this small family owned winery. For more information about Stonecroft see http://www.stonecroft.co.nz/

Rating:

₤14.99 at Oddbins, UK

va•ri•e•tal adj. Of, indicating, or characterizing a variety, especially a biological variety.
n. A wine made principally from one variety of grape and carrying the name of that grape. (source: The American Heritage Dictionary)

Just as the Periodic Table of Elements isn’t the Period Table of Elements. Why then not the Varietal Table of Wine Grapes? Ok, Ok . . .