Favorite.
Instead I got a slice of sourdough pizza Margherita to bring home to my mom. She had really wanted to try it earlier but refused to spend £6.50 on a slice of pizza, even though it’s a full quarter of a pie. So I went back later and bought it for her. When the boys saw the pizza box, they wanted to steal it until they saw the “disCUSTINK leaf” and lost interest.
Weird dinner at Medlar.
Gougère with Comté.
Silo of butter.
Chaos of Cornish bass for my dad.
Pea and fava bean soup for my sister.
Triple cooked chips with Béarnaise for the table. Sister and I tried to figure out what went wrong here because together we are the Poirot of fried potatoes.
Screaming hot, billowing steam, but the exterior was chewy and the interior was gummy, like when you ate “fries” as a kid at the home of someone with a healthy mom.
I had three courses, all of which were extremely rich and reinforced what I have always personally felt about most French-influenced food and French techniques: disCUSTINK.
Crab raviolo with samphire and brown shrimps, fondue, bisque, butter, cream; everything to suffocate the crab and the tiny wild brown shrimp, native to the North Sea, which I love so much and so rarely encounter.
Tiniest!
Cod cheeks with mussels. The mussels were amazing.
The cheeks were like sea scallops that had been frozen for two years and then microwaved for half an hour.
Sea trout ceviche with prawn tempura.
Trout was doing the most to make up for the prawn,
which had the texture of a yoga mat.
Some free sweet stuff because they forgot my drink throughout the entirety of our ninety minute meal.
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