Places to Eat: Number One at the Balmoral

Yesterday was husby's birthday, and birthdays and other special occasions mean a night out at a good restaurant. On the recommendation of my chiropractor (man, how yuppie does that sound?) I secured a reservation at Number One at the Balmoral.

I'll have to thank Stuart when I see him next.

The Michelin-starred restaurant did not let us down in any way. The moment we walked in we were cheerfully greeted and taken to our table, where bottled water was already chilling. Food-wise, you have two options: either do the Chef's Tasting menu for 70 pounds or order a three-course meal a la carte for 64. We chose the a la carte option because there were dishes on that I was dying to try. I also ordered a lovely glass of Pinot from the wine list, which is extensive if you're getting wine by the bottle but a bit limited when you're just going by the glass. Oh well. We settled down, soothed by the cozy atmosphere and Billie Holiday music and waited for the meal to begin.

First up: a trio of, I suppose, pre-amuse bouches, all of which were light, delicate, and lovely. Then came the actual amuse bouche, which was a tiny fritter in a light veloute. Well done on the fritter, which could easily have been heavy and greasy but thankfully wasn't. Nobody wants a grease bomb hitting their stomach before a three-course meal.

I opted for the foie gras starter, which was served with a gingerbread biscuit and peaches--an intriguing combination that worked beautifully. The acidity of the peaches helped cut the richness of the foie (which was cooked to crisp-outside, melting-inside perfection) and the warming gingerbread contributed spices that always pair nicely with foie gras. Husby had the fig tart (figs are FABULOUS right now) with pigeon. Their pigeon was much better than my first attempt with it. Definitely juicier, and playing nicely with the sweet, ripe figs on a paper-thin pastry square.

For mains, we both leaned hearty. Husby had sirloin, served with tongue, sweetbreads (the lucky bastard) and a truffle sauce. We'd never tried tongue and were a bit wary, thinking it would be inevitably tough, but it was perfectly tender and interesting, in a very good way. The truffle sauce was handled with a light and deft hand, so the truffles didn't overpower the dish (a common problem with truffles, I find). My main course was grouse, which has just come into season, with chard and a velvety celeriac puree.Comforting, warming, and gamey without being too aggressive, it was an excellent meal for a chilly fall day.

And finally, the desserts. I went for the lemon souffle, which has to be ordered a little early, unless you want to wait 25 minutes between your main and final course. I took the sommalier's suggestion on the pudding wine and it turned out to be a perfect one (as one would expect). The towering, fluffy souffle arrived alongside a tiny scoop of iced tea sorbet and a cloud-like, lemony cream-cheese mousse topped with granola.

Husby's strawberry parfait was an absolute work of art--a Study in Pink, if you will. Someone's clearly been studying their molecular gastronomy in the kitchens here, and applying it well. The parfait was rolled up in a thin strawberry-flavoured gelee, with strawberry mousse spheres scattered amongst the cardamom beignets. It was absolutely stunning, and delicious, too. Pure taste of summer.

Number One is touted as one of the best restaurants in Scotland, and it shows. No detail is left unattended to, and though the place is rather classic in its designed (think dark wood walls), it doesn't feel stuffy. Service is cheerful, unintrusive, and helpful, and though the dishes are beautifully modern, there are charming old-fashioned flourishes as well, such as trolleys that are wheeled around the dining room with bread and cheese selections. Afterwards, a cab was called for us, and we headed home, fully satisfied, but not overly stuffed.

According to my husband, it was a wonderful birthday.

Dam Good Plums

It's plum season here in the UK, and the little jewels are everywhere: Victoria, green gage, and the famous damsons. I hadn't heard much about damsons before I came over here, but they're big on this side of the pond, and very popular with jam makers. They're considered too sour to eat alone (and they're too small to serve as much of a snack anyway, being about the size of a very large grape) but they pair beautifully with all sorts of flavourings and foods. Being a jammer myself, I thought I'd give these "soor plooms" a go.

Off to the greengrocers' I went to stock up, and stock up I did, so much I ended up making two recipes: ice cream and jam. Jam first.

Most of the recipes I found for damson jam were pretty straightforward: plus, sugar, maybe some water. But I can't leave well enough alone, so I started thinking of what I could add to really make the plum flavors sing. Plums are a good stout fruit that can hold their own against warmer, more aggressive spices like clove, so I decided to go that route, but kick it up by using one of my favourite spice blends: Chinese Five Spice. The combination of star anise, cinnamon, Sichuan pepper, cloves and fennel would at least be interesting, I figured. So, I gave it a go, and after quite a bit of tweaking (and the addition of a couple of extra spices), I had a jam I was proud of. Tangy, warming, plummy: delicious.

 

Seven-Spice Damson Plum Jam

For the sake of those who have more or less damsons than I did, I tried to keep the proportions in the recipe even so it's easier to scale up or down as necessary. Also, feel free to mess around with spice proportions, or leave the spices out altogether. Jam's fairly forgiving when it comes to flavourings, so experiment away!

500 g (about 1 lb) damson plums, washed
1/2 cup water or black tea
1-2 c sugar (depending on your tastes)
1 T Chinese Five Spice powder
1/2-1 tsp ground ginger (or use fresh ginger, peeled and chopped)
1/4 tsp ground allspice

Procedure
Place the damsons and the water in a sturdy pot over medium heat. If you're using fresh ginger, add that too.  As they warm up, the plum skins will start to split. Simmer until the plums have all split open and gotten nice and soft (about 20-30 mins). Remove the pot from the heat and let the mixture cool until you can handle it without burning your hands.

Sift through the plum guts and remove all the stones (you can chop the plums ahead of time to avoid this step, but that's a pain and I just can't be bothered. Easier to do it this way). Once all the stones are out, add the plum guts, peels, ginger (if you're using fresh), and accumulated juices to a food processor (or use a hand blender) and process until smooth. Add it all back to the pot.

Place the pot back over medium heat and add the spices and sugar. If you prefer your jam on the tangy side, use the smaller amount of sugar and adjust as you go. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer until the jam has thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon (about another 25-30 minutes). Test for deliciousness and adjust spices/sweetener as necessary.

If you're canning for later use, go ahead and do that while the jam's hot. If not, cool jam at room temperature, then store in the fridge.

Uses: This jam is good with a wide variety of dishes. Scrape it onto some toast for a delicious snack or breakfast, swirl it through whipped cream for a lovely ice cream topping, or serve with duck or other meats (I can tell you from experience, this is fabulous with duck). Enjoy!

Damson Ice Cream

Regrettably, I got here and realized I wouldn't be able to use my ice cream maker anymore, because there was no way the bowl would fit in our freezer. Luckily, I found this recipe in the Complete Traditional Recipe Book that doesn't require an ice cream maker, just a bit of an arm workout on my part. It's totally worth it. Since this is a syrup rather than a custard-based dessert, it's more like a sorbet than an ice cream, but it's still incredibly delicious and highly addictive. Excellent with a bit of whipped cream with the jam mixed in, topped by a few blackberries.

For the Syrup
700ml water
425g sugar
Juice and thinly pared zest of 1 lemon
2 drops (about 1/8 tsp) vanilla

For the Ice Cream
1 litre hot ice cream syrup
600g damson plums
150ml double or whipping cream

Bring the water and sugar to a boil in a heavy-bottomed pan, adding the lemon zest as it heats up. Let the syrup boil for exactly 1 minute, then remove from the heat and add the lemon juice and vanilla. Pour into a bowl and allow to cool, if you're planning on storing this and making the ice cream later. It can be stored in teh fridge for up to 2 weeks.

If, however, you want your ice cream tonight, then poach the damsons in teh syrup for about 10 minutes, until the fruit is soft. Leave to cool completely (the recipe book suggests overnight). When cool, remove the stones, strain, and liquidise the pulp. Scrape into a freezer-safe container and freeze for 1 hour.

Whip the heavy cream until stiff and fold completely into the ice cream mixture. Replace in the freezer.  Remove after 1 hour and mix. You'll start to see the edges hardening. Repeat the freeze/mix cycle a few more times, until the mixture hardens. It'll take 4-5 hours, but it's definitely worth it.

Recipe: Green Onion, Coriander & Chili Flatbreads

Damn you, Great British Bakeoff. Once upon a time, I was able to happily sit on my bum on a Sunday afternoon, whiling away the hours with some knitting and mindless entertainment, but then you came along and I find myself thinking, "Oh, man, now I want to make some crazy flavored breads/ridiculously intricate cakes/perfect looking pies!" And so I haul myself off to the kitchen and proceed to spend the rest of the afternoon trashing it, pulling out eggs and flour and recipe books and interrupting my previously useless tranquility with fatty deliciousness. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

Green Onion, Coriander & Chili Flatbreads

2 tsp dry yeast
1 cup plus 2 T warm water
3 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp salt
3-4 green onions, sliced thinly
2 tsp ground coriander
1 1/2-2 tsp chili flakes or hot piri-piri seasoning (optional)*
1 T olive or rapeseed oil

Sprinkle the yeast into the 2T warm water and let dissolve for about 10 minutes. It should look slightly frothy.

Meanwhile, whisk together the flour, salt, coriander, and chili flakes, if you're using them. Make a well in the center of the flour and pour in the green onions, yeast, oil, and 2/3 cup water.

Mix, adding more water, if necessary, to form a firm, moist dough.

Knead on a lightly floured surface until the dough is smooth, shiny, and elastic. Put the dough in a clean bowl, cover with clingfilm, and leave in a warm place to rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.

Punch the dough down and let it rest. Meanwhile, heat a griddle or skillet over medium heat until very hot.

Divide the dough into eight equal pieces androll out each piece into a round about 6" (15 cm) across and 1/2" (1 cm) thick.

Place the dough rounds on the hot griddle or pan and prick all over with a fork to prevent large air bubbles from forming. Cook each flatbread until golden brown on both sides, about 5 minutes per side. Set aside while you cook the others.

Serve with houmous, curry, or cheese for a delicious lunch or afternoon snack.

*If you're not partial to spicy things, consider replacing the chili with some freshly grated lemon peel. I find the lemony flavor compliments coriander quite beautifully.

On the Fringe: The Ash Girl

Cast your memory back to childhood and remember Disney's Cinderella. Remember that one? With the cute talking mice and the grandmotherly fairy godmother? Ok, now think of the exact opposite of that and you'll have The Ash Girl. Disney's Cinderella was basically a Stepford Smiler who didn't seem to really mind the horrific abuse she was living with. The Ash Girl is suicidally depressed, lives next to a forest inhabited by the seven deadly sins, and is nearly accidentally raped by her own father (it's also hinted that her father married her stepmother because he had certain 'needs' and his daughter was getting just a little too pretty.) It's dark and disturbing as hell, but it's also pretty awesome. Read the full review here

The Edinburgh Military Tattoo

If you come to Scotland in August for anything, come for the Military Tattoo. It's a hell of a show (and since you're coming here in the first place, I'm going to go ahead and assume you already like bagpipes.)

I'm not a night owl--I'm lame, so there are few things that will tempt me from my cozy home at 10:30 at night, and yet, there I was, climbing to the very top of section 11 in front of Edinburgh Castle, husband in tow, settling in and excitedly waiting for everything to start. It was definitely worth staying up for.

There was a dance paying tribute to tartan weaving:

And a nod to the new Disney/Pixar film Brave (Scotland's really excited about that)

And, because this is Scotland, we had to be reminded of the fact that this is the land o'whiskey, with one of the prettiest dances of the evening:

The Australians showed up and rocked out. They started off singing and playing some old traditional tunes and then turned the whole arena into a disco as they launched into Highway to Hell. The Australian military is clearly the coolest on earth.

The Americans were playful too, paying tribute to comic book characters and superheroes through the years:

A group of highly talented drummers/Three Musketeers extras from Switzerland paid tribute to binary code:

I'm going to assume that they were tapping out some super-important message in code as well, just to bring it all together. The King's Guard from Norway was there, just to prove there are no hard feelings over those centuries of Norse invasions:

This part becomes even more impressive when you realize these are not professional soldiers at all, but conscripts doing their compulsory year of military service. Well done, gentlemen! There was also a piece celebrating the industrial revolution in dance that was much cooler than Danny Boyle's strange phallocentric celebration of earth-rape during the Olympics opening ceremony. Sorry, don't have video of that one, just take my word for it. And, of course, at the end, everybody came out -- bands, dancers, and a shetland pony (sure, why not?) to celebrate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee in a restaging of her coronation at Westminster Abbey:

After that, we took a few solemn moments to pay tribute to those who have fallen in service to their country (you can't read it, but the projection on the castle is the tombstone of the Unknown Soldier in Westminster Abbey)

And, finally, the pipers played everyone out with a rousing rendition of 'Scotland the Brave':

On the Fringe: A Brief History of Scotland -- We Done Loads!

Quick, when I say “Scotland”, what do you think of? Kilts? Whiskey? Bagpipes? FYI, none of those were actually invented here (a fact that’s difficult to remember when all you see is kilted bagpipers playing outside of whiskey shops up and down the Royal Mile). Want to find out the real history of Scotland? Well, a book might be a good bet. But if you want to get a fun take on Scottish history that pokes fun at itself and features Sean Connery voiceover narrating as God, check out A Brief History of Scotland — We Done Loads! Read full review

On the Fringe: Allotment

It was so nice of Edinburgh to finally realize it was summer the very week I had to sit in the middle of a garden to watch Allotment. I basked in the bright sunshine, enjoying the cup of tea and scone that was provided (delicious!) and prepared myself for an hour’s worth of lovely entertainment. Boy, was I wrong. Not wrong about the play being entertaining — it was as good as the refreshments; better than I expected, in fact. But it wasn’t light by any means. Read the full review here