Danya Bilinsky also contributes to the Spectator magazine's food section, Spectator Scoff!

11 June 2010 Cake and Fine Wine

30 June 2010 An Avian Trio

27 August 2010 Belle Epoque

And for some of her travel writing...

13 July 2010 Paris Without a Plan

A SUNNY DAY IN GLASGOW

THE PAKASTANI CAFE

607 Pollokshaws Road

Glasgow, UNITED KINGDOM

19 June 2010  

Identified by a string of multi-nationed and multi-coloured flags, we come across the Pakistani Café. On a strip of Pollokshaws Road in the southside of Glasgow the building conforms to the grey, gothic dress-code yet the bohemian café is vibrant and welcoming. People spill onto the pavement, soaking up the sun in a city that averages over 43 inches of yearly rain.

Our table of eight fills most of the café. I’m seated in front of a bottle of Moet and Chandon. This one is not filled with beautiful bubbles, but holds a melting candle, and has held many before.

Punjabi poetry and unused CDs line the wall. It is difficult to believe that there are any unused CDs in owner Jim’s play-list. The soundtrack starts with classical, moves to 90’s R’n’B and finishes with Pink Floyd, or perhaps it was the dance music. I drink enough BYO booze to be a bit hazy about the farewell tune.

We are presented with a photocopied menu. Handwritten scrawls tell us of Jim’s mum’s favourites, the best combinations and the “F’n tasty!” choices. Only in Scotland could a pakora couple haggis with green chilli. It is impossible to bypass - excuse the pun.

Continuing Scottish tradition most other entrees are also deep-fried. This cooking technique is not a rarity in Scottish cuisine which has dared to frizzle candy bars, pizzas and fruit.

Presented on mismatched plates, our starters have arrived. They are accompanied by refreshing raita with cumin seeds bursts.  It works well with the spicy yet heavily battered goods.

My main doesn’t look particularly mouth watering; a greenish slop in the chipped plate – Chicken Spinach Shaadi. However, what it lacks in aesthetics it makes up in taste. It has a nice burn and tender chicken pieces in a rich spinach stew. It is made to be scooped up with Jim’s wholemeal chapattis.

The music is turned up as our beer bottle microphones and cutlery drums kick in. Other diners depart, whether it’s due to our singing or that the hour is growing late. There is still one shawl-wrapped lady lingering, who joins in our choir. On her exit she falls to the ground after missing the front door step. A single prominent 15cm-high step. It is a brave man who offers all-you-can-bring, all-you-can-drink booze in Glasgow.

The Pakistani café is not a flash place, but it is cosy and comfortable. It is like having your mates around to dinner. Yet, for a mere 15 pounds you have Jim as your host. He will provide you with hearty and humble food. He will master the DJ mix. He will impose no closing time. It just ends when it ought to.

You pass over your pounds and your thanks and you get a hug in return. What a wonderful night.

A GOURMET PUB IN THE COTSWOLDS

THE KINGHAM PLOUGH

Kingham

Chipping Norton

Oxfordshire

OX7 6YD

England, UNITED KINGDOM

26 May 2010

I love English pubs. They are homely and unpretentious. The Kingham Plough pub has low ceilings. Paraphernalia line the walls. It reminds me of my grandmother’s house, minus the doilies and teacups. I can imagine the fireplace roaring in wintertime when the snow falls outside.

There is no suggestion of how sophisticated the food may or may not be from the interior, although the large range of ‘recommended’ stickers on the door is a promising sign.

We are seated by the window at the dog and baby friendly pub and handed little paper menus. The owner and chef, Emily Watkins, varies the menu daily depending on the best seasonal and local produce.

Starters range from Cornish Mullet to Celeriac and Morrel Mousse, the mains from Hereford Beef Burger to Poached Wild Salmon with Pickled Cucumber.

For a starter I choose the Crisp Hen’s Egg, a perfectly just-runny egg, encased in a crispy fried breadcrumb layer. The home cured pastrami is bordered by a pepper mix with a kick, and delightfully balanced by the sweet-sour pickled baby spring vegetables.

The main of Gressingham duck breast is nicely pink. Gressingham, a cross between the Wild Mallard and Pekin ducks, is a succulent meaty duck with lower fat content than most others. True to its claims, there is barely a hint of fat on the meat on my plate. It sits next to a tower of beautifully browned bubble and squeak and roasted shallots. I begin with just a small splash of the red meaty jus reduction. By the end of the dish, I have emptied the contents of the jug.

I restrain myself to just one scoop of their homemade vanilla, elderflower and rhubarb ice-cream for dessert. It is rich and the elderflower is delightfully fragrant. Little cubes of rhubarb flesh appear every now and then. I never want it to end. I stop just short of licking the bowl.

My whole table is satisfied after the meal, even the dog - who has been treated to a pigs ear whilst we were dining. Why don’t we do pub meals like this back down-under?

AN ITALIAN FEAST BY THE SEA

RISTORANTE AGRODOLCE, IMPERIA

Via Des Genesys 34

Calata Cuneo 25

ITALY

18 May 2010

It takes four and a half hours for a train to cover the 196km trip from Cinque Terre to Imperia. Without food, this is more than enough time to make someone hungry. Ridiculously hungry in fact. And that someone is me.

We stroll along the waterfront in Imperia Oneglia, where bright yellow tug boats rest for the night. With summer being only weeks away the waterfront restaurants are taking it easy before the crowds arrive.

We come across a mysterious menu, one on which we can only translate one or two ingredients. We see movement within, although, as we ought to know by now, the meal won’t start until 8pm. A 6pm start in Italia is unheard of, will we survive until then?

At 7.55pm we are eagerly waiting at the door of Agrodolce, which appears, at first, to be a small beautifully decorated restaurant. On entering, we discover it to be a lot larger, all still beautifully decorated.

Chairs and tables are clothed in crisp white linen. Peach coloured roses explode out of huge glass tumblers. Pebbles are placed randomly over the tablecloth and provide a near meditative pastime for those fidgety with hunger.

After mulling over the menu for more than half an hour, we finally decide on the “Rispetto delle stagioni”, a 50,00 euro feast; antipasto + primo piatto + secondo piatto + un dolce. We decide we will select a nice array of the choices on the menu.

The patient waiter comes to takes our orders, walking away mid-through. It appears the “Rispetto” is chosen by the kitchen. The mystery continues.

Il tonno tonnato, the antipasto, is barely seared fresh tuna. Plump purple flesh sits sandwiched between its white edges. It is served atop the tonnato, a rich mayonnaise made from canned tuna, capers and lemon. The contrast works well together. The fresh raw tuna and the rich mayonnaise balance each other out. The serving is more than generous with four large lumps of tuna.

The primi piatti is ‘cappelotti’, similar to ravioli, but more loosely filled, stuffed with a mixture of potato and bachalau, the dried salt cod made famous by the Portuguese. They sit in a cream of bright green pea puree, dotted with red garlic foam and sprinkled with dried olives.

The pasta is tender and cooked to perfection. Sadly the filling fades into the background. The bachalau is overpowered by the potato which, in turn, is overpowered by the pea puree. To be fair the pea puree tastes good. Smooth, sweet and freshly green in flavour.

From here on in, the meal is incredible. Our Secondi Piatti is the fish of the day. This particular Tuesday serves us the white fleshed Scorpion Fish. The moment it touches my tongue the flesh melts, as if poached in butter. The portion is perfectly small. It is served with a ‘condiglione’ sauce, made from regional vegetables. Grilled zucchini, carrots and capsicum colour and complete the dish. The crunchy fried bread cubes in the dish bring you back to reality. This is not a dream.

My sweet-tooth is satisfied. Delicate mille-feuille pastry (mille-foglie in Italiano) sits either side of a creamy cheese, in a puddle of strawberry sauce. Little bits of the fruit burst in each mouthful. Carefully perched on top of the whole tower is a near-to-melting scoop of gelato-della-crema.

It is a rich dessert that embraces the savoury. A squiggle of chocolate adds to the presentation and a near microscopic mint leaf adds more colour. The mint is intense despite its size. The dessert is absolute perfection.

The service is impeccable. Bread and water are always attended to. In an attempt to keep more room for the delicious fare, I ask in my rudimentary Italian for ‘only olive’ when two bread rolls are passed to each person at our table. I find myself served with two of the olive bread rolls to add to the two servings of focaccia I was served earlier.

The head chef, Andrea Sarri, named as one of the Jeunes Restaurateurs d’Europe in 2010, does not hide behind the scenes. He helps to serve all of our courses to us; his passion for his food translates to the plate. There is no doubt the two hour wait was worth it.