Bream Team cook for The Point People

 A week after our first Bream Team dining extravaganza, one of our brilliant dinner guests, Cassie Robinson approached us to cook and host a working dinner for the Point People, a group of intelligent, creative people working for various organisations and projects, and interested in the grey spaces of collaboration. We were chuffed to bits that not was someone asking for us to cook for them, but that they were actually willing to hire us for the job! Last thursday, we hosted said dinner at the Deptford Project, an amazing place whose centre point is an old rail car-turned-cafe. Compared to our rather extravagant first dinner, this time around we created a paired down, picnic-inspired menu in the hopes of rustling up some summer spirit as rain and wind pelted the windows of the converted rail car that was our dining room.

To get the Point People's working dinner off on the right foot, we served up a 2x4 of hors d'oeuvres - melon wrapped in prosciutto with agave nectar and black pepper, and sauteed halloumi with fresh sage and warm apple, finished with a squirt of lime for them to nibble as they got down to business.

Compared to our last dinner, which consisted of five courses in which nearly everything needed to be prepared moments before serving, we made our job a lot more manageable for a weekday meal by creating a mainly cold main, which was mostly prepared before we arrived (this turned out to be a good call, as it actually freed us up to sit and chat with our diners, instead of roasting away in the kitchen). 

Tom working the double sautee

Flower pot bread

So after a bit of oven time for our last bits of the main course, we were ready to plate up -

teacups of gazpacho

a duck, pork, and pistachio terrine with pistachio pesto, apple, and caperberries

watercress salad with lemon mustard vinaigrette

honey roasted ham

a spinach and smoked salmon tartlet

malted flower pot bread loaves

and for the vegetarian and wheat-free of the group, a summer vegetable gratin.

As we hurried the remnants of the main course away, we prepared for our extra special dessert. Why extra special? Well, Tom is currently working on a project called Meet Market - a project aimed to help train young people in the art of entrepreneurship through creating and running their own market stalls. One of the young people currently working with them is an especially talented young woman named Rav, who is in the midst of setting up her own cupcake business. We asked her to supply the main part of our dessert, and boy did she deliver (I highly recommend her to anyone looking for cupcakes in East London)! 

Aren't these stunning!?

To go along with Rav's beautiful and delectable cakes (of course we had to test a couple earlier in the day...), we made homemade peach and lavender ice cream and rose salt meringues, all of which went down a treat. 

It was a tremendous first venture into some type of catering, and the response we got was pretty overwhelming. A huge thanks to Cassie for giving us a chance. 

The more of this I do, the bigger a buzz I feel from each one, not to mention the bubbling anticipation to plan the next one. 

Speaking of next ones, what are you doing the last weekend in July?.... 

The Journey to a Night to Remember

I don't normally write New Year's resolutions, or if I do, they tend towards the "I'll try to eat healthier, plan to exercise more, etc..." - all very non-comital and difficult to measure in terms of success. For some reason though, this year I wrote down an actual list - not just of the vague general statements like "Dance more," and "Balance work and life better," but at the bottom of that list was one very concrete goal - "Hold a pop-up supper club." Now, this is something I've always dreamt of doing, but why this year, of all years, I chose to put it down as something to achieve, only serendipity knows. 

The fates seemed to collide between Tom and I, as our friend and co-worker passingly mentioned the two of us should talk about food together one night at the pub. Fast forward a few weeks were up at the crack of dawn meandering Billingsgate Market, leaving with a lingering smell of salt water and more fish than any normal human would buy. A bison grass vodka-fuelled conversation after our fish feast led us to the casual idea of a supper club to help rid ourselves of our large catch of bream, and surprisingly, our sober minds the next day found a date in the calendar and with two weeks to go, set to work - the Bream Team was in motion. 

The Bream Team in the element (photo by Barry Craig)

When my flatmate Barry caught wind of our idea, he quickly became our guardian angel, not only supplying us with the most ideal venue at his photography studio Taylor James, who generously lent us their loft for the event, but helping with all the annoying little tasks that one always forgets. With venue, date and fish in place, the Twitter and Facebook call for guests went out, and amazingly, within 2 days our seats were filled! Granted nearly all were friends, but still!

The weekend before was one of testing, running through our initial ideas, tweaking, making notes and plotting what was to become a 5 course feast (our first go, every course had fennel...).

The week before was spent practicing and tweaking recipes (and thus eating LOTS of fig tarts), drawing the menus, tracking down plates and cutlery (found in a stockpile of mismatched china at Tom's parent's house) and getting all our ducks in order (literally!). We even cycled down to visit Tom's cheese guy to nab a few wedges for a smoking experiment. 

Smoking our cheese with sage and thyme

Once again the gods were in our favour when hunting for a table large enough for 16, as we drove by a giant piece of wood labelled "Please Take Me," just begging to be used for our supper (although getting it up and down 4 flights of stairs was less than simple...).

Strapping out makeshift table to the roof

On the day, I was in the loft early, setting up and dancing along to our playlist for the day as Tom jet-setted across London in his lean mean green Voyager, collecting our chairs and various accouterments for the evening's feast. 

A glimpse at our place settings, including the picture-only menu

By midday our kitchen was buzzing, fish scales flying and fennel shaving as we prepped for the night ahead... (to be continued)

A night with Mike+Ollie

Tonight, I wandered down south after work to join two good friends of mine for an evening of pop-up gastronomy, in the form of Mike+Ollie. I've always wanted to go to a pop up/ underground restaurant (and have less than secret desires to try to establish my own), so I was beyond eager to experience one first hand. 

Taking over the Deptford Project, Mike+Ollie set up a whimsical space complete with wood slab platters, crawling ivy and lamenting guitar melodies as we all gathered round the long narrow table to await our feast. 

As soon as we sat down, our friendly and enigmatic host and chef, Mike, greeted us with a handshake and a cocktail of pear juice, vodka and elderflower, which, while sweet, was the perfect start to the evening.

The slabs of wood were whisked away, only to return balanced tenderly on the arms of our ethereal waitress. Laden with fresh beets, and scattered across the platter was our first course - toast piled high two ways - one with roasted beetroot, goat's curd an toasted seeds, and the other roasted pork belly and pickled quince. Both delectable, but the pork belly nudging into the winning space, with its balance of sweet and salty, tender and crunchy, it was a pretty heavenly combination. 

Round two brought more food on toast, this time mackerel with pickled ginger, pureed cauliflower and capers. Simply prepared yet packed full of flavour, the ginger, whose bite was tempered by its pickling, played nicely against to strong, salty capers, fresh fishy mackerel and sweet, smooth cauliflower. 

One last toast-based course to go, where we found ourselves spooning out marrow and sweetly roasted heads of garlic onto too few slices of crisp bread. Having read about marrow dozens of times, I was intrigued to finally give it a go, and found it sweet and gelatinous, but not in an overtly fatty way, and beautifully complimented by the almost candy-like cloves of garlic. It was no match to the earlier pork belly, but the marrow held its own, and made a very good first impression in my book. 

Thinking this was it, we were treated to a surprising twist of a fruit in another fruit - a tangy and refreshing pear sorbet nestled in a carved out apple - apparently an unintentional paring on their end (it was meant to be apple sorbet) but a better choice in my regards, with the sharpness of the pear providing what was to be an essential palate cleanser. 

A bit of a lull in our dining filled with chat and plenty of wine left us wondering if the palate cleanser was indeed our final dish, before a plateful of wood pigeon, garnished with baked pear and apple (a delightful flavour theme running throughout the menu) was set before us. Less rich, but more tender than duck or goose, the pigeon (another first for me) was perfectly pink in the middle and matched well with the sweet melting fruit on the side - course number five and my plate was practically licked clean. 

Last but not least was a simple yet brilliantly balanced dessert of sliced blood orange, fresh mint and dried dates. Light, refreshing and anything but heavy, it was exactly what one needed to finish off a meal filled with rather rich components. There had been whispers of a tart midway through the meal, but I'm very glad they opted for a pastry-free finish, as that probably would have made me go from pleasantly full to heavy and stuffed. Accompanying the oranges was a homemade liqueur - a rosehip gin concoction that was potent by nature yet surprisingly easy to swallow (perhaps helped by the two bottles of wine my friends and I consumed throughout the meal...). 

And so ended my wonderful first experience into pop-up restaurants, and at £25 plus £18 for a bottle of very lovely wine, it was well worth the money. 

I reckon there will be many more to come...