Champor Champor (Guest Post)

(Anna’s on the left and that’s Edwin on the right)

Anna, has been a key part of the Paunch ever since it first started. She’s been with us through the good times such as our amazing camping trips to Devon and “cottaging” in the Peak District but also through the low times such as the horrific Essex Serpent and near fatal catastrophe of the exploding fondue. She’s also been a keen participant in sushi parties and pancake competitions. O. And she makes a mean mousakka.

Many moons ago I promised my dear friend Browny that I would contribute to his eminently impressive paunch as a special birthday present. So here goes… actually before I proceed, a quick warning… I am more of a ‘moodie’ than a ‘foodie’, which means that although I enjoy great food, I enjoy great atmosphere more, which is the very reason I have chosen Champor Champor as my first foray.

“Champor- Champor” is a Malay expression which loosely means ‘mix and match’ (not a lot of people know that!) and that is a perfect way to summarise the bohemian riot that welcomes you here (and it is really does welcome you, especially on a cold winters night, after a bit of trek under the arches at London Bridge).I would not be writing home based on the exterior or local environment but once inside the décor is sumptuous, hippy without being sleazy or seedy and every possible surface is scattered with artefacts or candles. The walls are covered in somewhat erotic artwork – one particular highlight adorns the toilet but I won’t spoil the surprise!

I was eating with a gaggle of girls on a Hen-do, and as we strutted in, I saw the relief of the fellow dinners, as we were lead to the private dining room downstairs. It was brilliant and entirely perfect for the occasion but next time I’m looking forward to eating in the main restaurant.

As I alluded to at the start I’m no foodie but in summary, the menu was striking and creative…… fusing traditional Malay village cooking with other eastern influences (apparently!) and I would say the result was immaculate. I wasn’t expecting to review and so didn’t make specific notes or photos, but the for starters – the hen, who opted for the crisp fried mackerel fillet on a nest lemongrass, was waxing lyrical, although I was a little disappointed with festive roast beef with Borneo green pepper; tamarind and chilli dip, the meat was a tad too tough for my liking.

My main course made up for it though, lotus root and aubergine koorma, tofu and young mango rojak with red pepper rice, it was rich with incredible flavours and depth and was quiet frankly fascinating!

Pud wise, they were all very tempting I didn’t try it on the night but would definitely look to try the black rice pudding on return.

The waiters were polite and unassuming and brought interesting extras such as the bread ‘offering’- which included a reassuringly dense banana loaf and tofu-skin bread (wafer thin and sprinkled with cumin).

The menus are, in my opinion, very reasonably priced, excellent value for money and fixed at two or three courses but also include optional ‘inter courses’ (cue hen party singgers) which we opted out of but in fact I would have welcomed something that cleansed my pallet.

Champor Champor may miss a trick or too and for some the décor may be more brothel than bohemia and detract from the food, I don’t know, but for me, it was truly unique and very memorable…. p.s. If there’s two of you, try to bag the mezzanine table when booking.

Thank you so much for my birthday present Anna. I’m looking forward to seeing something special from Edwin in due course.

This was a special guest post by Anna “Moodie not a Foodie” Railton.

Rothko inspired meal at Magdalen

My parents are obsessed with Mark Rothko. A bit like how Peter Stringfellow is obsessed with girls in plastic high heels and bikinis. It’s a sort of pseudo-sexual thing. All encompassing and fascinating. So it was with great excitement that we went on a Brown family outing to the Tate Modern for their hugely anticipated “Rothko – the late years” exhibition on Friday for a private viewing. It didn’t disappoint. It just served to reconfirm, if that was needed at all, that Rothko’s work is as moving and haunting as Bach and Mozart. It was more like an existential philosophy exhibition than a gallery of paintings.

We returned on Saturday to be in the audience for the all afternoon seminar connected to the exhibition. We were surrounded on all sides by people with even more emphatic Rothko fetishes than Mum and Dad! Not that I thought this was possible. I guess it’s a bit like thinking your pretty good at football having scored a few goals for your school side and then going off to the regional trials – only to see all the other boys can kick the ball miles and have all the kit! But I am pleased to say that the Brown family held their own. Mum has vowed never to wash her right hand again having shaken hands with Mark Rothko’s son, Christopher!

Still buzzing from 4 hours of in depth intercourse about the ins and outs of the world of Rothko, we strolled along Bankside up towards Tooley street where we were delighted to find Magdalen. It’s from the Anchor and Hope school of cookery. Or if you are from Bristol, it’s similar to The Albany. The deep maroon walls made us feel like we were eating with the Seagram Murals hanging around us!

The menu excited me more than the others. I loved the 3 part simplicity of it all. But on the downside it means that it reads less flamboyantly than menus tended to a few years ago. Beds, jus, tranches and so forth are gone. Now it’s all about guess work and trust. It’s the sign of a confident restaurant.

I was in two minds about what to have. The devil inside me was whispering in my ear… telling me to have the grouse… but at £26 I couldn’t. Instead I was delighted with my choice of potted crab which was as silky as a silkworm’s sleeping bag, followed by an unctuous combination of shoulder and leg of pork – served with a mustardy sauce and the lightest crackling I have ever had. This was top class cooking. And brilliantly British.

The others had a very good cauliflower soup with walnuts and other earthy autumnal bits and pieces… and Dad had a Rothko coloured maroon on black seared haunch venison. The fish soup, slow cooked shoulder of lamb and halibut that followed were equally memorable. All bore the hallmark of a kitchen that is at ease with itself. Don’t get me wrong – it was all very good food. But I wonder what they are capable when they push things a bit further?

I shared a blindingly good lemon tart with a burn sugar crust which was top class The pastry was thin and crumbled at just the right moments when you showed it the spoon. And the lemon custard was still warm and silky.

Our only criticism concerns 3 embarrassments.

1. The step at the bottom of the stairs is not the same depth as the other stairs… I almost tripped over twice in the middle of the dinning room.

2. I had to queue to get into the gents in full view of the restaurant. It didn’t really feel right.

3. Dad had an altercation with the manager about their policy of automatically adding a gratuity of 12.5%. Our waitress had been fantastic all evening – so we wanted to give her a tip… but we disagreed severely with their tipping policy. Surely if the gratuity is at the discretion of the person paying… it is not up to the restaurant to behave like this. It leaves a very sour taste in the mouth and we hope that Magdalen changes their policy.

Tremendous food. The perfect place for a Rothko inspired dinner.

Creme de la Crepe, Borough Market

Anna’s entry into Cowie’s pancake competition was inspired, or more accurately stolen from Creme de la Crepe’s menu. Anna confessed under torture, but we were kind and allowed her to compete in the contest – not disimmilar to the Dwain Chambers fiasco recently.

Anna insisted we try out the pancakes at Creme de la Crepe which can now be found in the alleyway from Borough Market that leads up to the main part of London Bridge station.

Anna was at school with Katie who is Nick’s girlfriend. Nick is Mr Crepe. Cowie and I had a good potter around Borough Market to work up an apetite for our pancakes, picking up some salmon for supper and some delicious apples to turn into juice to refresh us after squash. When eventually we’d exhausted all the stalls and Cowie had accidentally stollen some ham that she thought was a free taster but was actually someone’s prized purchase, we joined the snaking queue for our crepe.

Unfortunately Nick had run out of ham and bacon which ruled out the croque monseir and the piggy went to market options so I went for “The Italian Job” which features sun dried tomatoes, lashings of pesto, roquette and goats cheese. Just like Anna made for our pancake party. Cowie was less adventurous and went for lemon and sugar which was really good too.

We had a good chat with Nick and Katie who are lovely and tried not to distract them too much from their feverish pancake making. The crepes were beautifully cooked and it’s great fun to watch them being made. The batter is pumped out from two taps and they then use a little wooden spreader to coat the hot plate. It doesn’t take long before you’re handed a wonderfully oragamied crepe oozing with goodies.

Nick and Katie are hoping to set up a pitch at Covent Garden and will cater for any event. What better way to end up a party than to have a crepe man. They’ve got a great website and sell goodies such as hoodies and t-shirts.