No Love in London

You may have noticed that I have not updated for awhile. To be honest, I'm wandered and ate and wandered and ate, and nothing at all excited my palate. Sure, the Indian restaurants are more authentic and there are novel snacks such as Prawn Cocktail potato crisps. However, there's been no edible happiness, no dizzy desire in a dish, no food orgasms.

When I first arrived to Chicago seven years ago, I popped into a hole-in-the-wall Thai joint along 55th Street. I vividly recall my first taste of thai - biting into the beef see-eu, the crisp tang of basil ricocheted in my mouth and melded with the soft rice noodles and egg in orgiastic perfection. The intense yet balanced flavor, magnified by the newness of experience, awakened my senses. Not just smell and taste, but colors were brighter, music sounded better, and - I know it sounds crazy - more keen to touch. And the dishes kept it coming - green curry with the sharp lemongrass & chilis mellowed by coconut milk, pad prik king with pulpy seared eggplant. If such unadulterated joy could exist so easily and readily, then the quality of human life is uplifted as a whole.

Btw, this was just an run-of-the-mill Thai restaurant, and cannot be compared with my favorite, Spoon Thai, which I would discover after six years of holy food pilgrimage. But, that's another story.

Sure, I was younger, less exposed to global cuisine, with a more sensitive palate. But, in this city, as I nose around the canon of British cuisine and London restaurants, I haven't even had a flicker. And I've tried a lot: English Roasts, mince pies, Italian pizzas, Yorkshire pudding, French brasseries, paella, ostrich burgers, pastys. And nothing.


Then today, the killer.

They are not here. That's right. Not a single banh mi sandwich shop in all of London. For those unfamiliar, banh mi is this most amazing little sandwich - the bastard offspring of France and Vietnam, it features french bread, pork, pickled veggies, with touch of vietnamese style mayo. Now, I cannot taste a banh mi without crossing an ocean. No sweet-savory sonnets of BBQ pork. No quartets of jalapeno, daikon, cilantro, and carrot. No warm baguettes laden with delicious euphony.

The grey London skies just got a menacing gunmetal sheen. My walk to work colder, with the wet chill darting under my coat and glove's hem. Without the pure simple joy of gastronomy, my daily life is robbed of its glow. What's a foodie to do in a country without great cuisine?

poll by twiigs.com

Foodie Destination: Borough Market

I asked a few people for their #1 foodie destination, they emphatically replied "Borough Market!" And with good reason - London's oldest food market (first documented in AD 43 when the Romans sacked London) features produce, meats, and cooked specialties from all over Europe. It's just like the Wicker Park farmer's market I formerly frequented, only instead of Indiana to the south, London has France, Italy, Espana. I tasted everything from French foie gras to Italian olive oil to Spanish chorizo to English liver & onions.

I was quite overwhelmed by the cornucopia of vendor stalls and hungry hordes at the outdoor market near London Bridge. Luckily, the pricey vendors were generous with the samples, and my local foodie friend, H. steered me to some tasted-and-true faves.

You would expect this giant man and his giant pot to churn out some earthy Saxon slurry. Not so - mussel and potato curry over rice, and it tasted like a mild sweet thai curry. It was satisfying in the cold weather, but I found it to be a bit too bland. (Cost: 5 quid)

These here oysters were happy as clams in the English Channel just hours before. They were similar in brine and texture to U.S. East Coast oysters. Makes sense since they all come from the Atlantic ocean. (Cost: 4 quid)

There were plenty of game at the market: venison, lamb, pheasants, ostrich - you could buy raw or prepared. I enjoyed the showmanship of these hanging pheasants and their feathers were pretty.

I decided to split an ostrich burger with H. It tasted like a chewy, tender cut of tenderloin. Notice the 4:1 ratio of bread to meat - not uncommon in London and its turning me into an Atkins follower. I toss a bun every time I eat a burger. (Cost: 4 quid/2)

MMM. A panoply of bacon. I like the bacon verbiage here: streaky = bacon striped with fat.

H took me to Neal's Yard for some traditional British cheeses. Cheese maids ran around the shop with large hunks of Red Leicesters and Double Glouchesters, paring off slivers for patrons. Neal's source directly from artisanal cheesemakers and mature them on the site of this Southwark store. I left with a hefty slice of a savory Montgomery's Cheddar. (Cost: 5 quid).

At this point, I was regrettably full. I will be back - preferably on a weeknight to avoid the crowds and to take advantage of the mulled wine.

Summary
A must-see for any local or visiting foodie
Food: High quality overall, but varies from vendor to vendor
Cost: Expensive - I would break the bank if I did my weekly shopping here. However, its great for a random food safari once you factor in the free samples. (Total cost: 16 quid).

Borough Market
8 Southwark Street, London, SE1 1TL

Neal's Yard
6 Park Street, London, SE1 9AB