What the Dickens?

Lower Clapton Road has its dues but most often, validly misunderstood. It’s home to the following-

Britain's Murder Mile

More un-muzzled pit bull terriers (masquerading as Staffs instead to exploit the weak loophole that’s the Breed Specific Legislation) panting and menacing around the hood than a rogue Crufts show.

A disconcerting amount of chicken bones (courtesy of the innumerable chicken shops dishing out 4-5 hot wings for 99p) strewn on the pavements that makes Tracey Emin’s Bed appear clinically tidy.

It’s also the last stop of the bus with the greatest frequency that TfL blesses us with. The glorious 38, the bus route favoured by the promising uncompromising yoofs of Britain engaging in full-time barrages of hatred and insults (utilising a limited vocab of 33 words and most of them obscenities), and their bleeding sodcasts*!

And my GF; she lives yards from Lower Clapton Road.

But this post isn’t about Lower Clapton Road. Chatsworth Road is another major street in Hackney that’s east of and parallel to Lower Clapton Road. It’s more sedate than LCR because of its forsaken status. It’s a model high street that would both make the bourgeoisie abandon whatever discreet charms they might have and present a perfect case study for students of the built environment. But as with most buts, Chatsworth Road is changing. And it’s all down to this. Chatsworth Road is now home to a growing amount of independent shops and good honest eateries. Thankfully for the time being and albeit still in its virginal state, there are no McDonald's, Star*ucks, Boots, Tesco Metro, Nando’s or the odd Chinese medical centre to be found here. Well not yet anyway but they soon come dare I say, so visit Chats before Kirstie Allsopp starts to saunter here. In order to rev up Chats’ status, its Traders & Residents Association decided to re-launch the Chatsworth Road Market of which Alan Sugar was one of its most famous sons back in the 60s. The revival of the market with 20+ stalls last weekend was a resounding success.

But this post isn’t just about Chatsworth Road Market either. The inherence of this food blog inspired the post as a requisite. As it was indeed the devilled kidneys I had that deserved a championing of droolworthy praises.

Reportage time-

Lest I forget the street entertainment was memorable. The tunes played by the jazz duo were wholly apt and enjoyable.

And just as well no rendition of Neil Young’s Walk On was heard (I cringe every time!).

Thai stall, part and parcel.

This was the stall that caught my eyes.

What the Dickens?

And one of the most defining English dishes- Devilled Kidneys!

Run by three affable chaps resembling Sebastian Flytes without the teddy bears. They were appropriately coiffured and suitably well versed. I was informed by one of them, they live locally and this was their first venture. I say go and seek out a nice bank manger now!

Now I’m not one for enjoying street food in Britain, what with the lack of seats and the unpredictable nature of the weather. But repetitiveness withstanding, dishes like the kidneys placate in a different manner and outcome.

Here we go and for 4 quid 50 it’s served with a posh bread roll from an artisanal baker in Clapham to soak up the juices.

GF, who’s a Guardian reader and a veggie, gesticulated with a degree of horror that it could only taste of…

Yes I said, of passing water, as well as delectably sweet with underlying bitter notes, tender and beautifully piquant. The generous amount of cayenne pepper added was well judged, consummate warmth as required by the term- winter fodder. This was one of the best dishes I’ve had this year. As a consolation I told GF even if she wasn’t aware of it in the first place, devilled kidneys resemble mushrooms on toast and she could inadvertently munch and rejoice!

Her friend had the kedgeree and pronounced it nice, as non-foodies would.

GF didn’t go hungry as she had this ‘beans of all sorts’ wrap from a vegan stall.

Now back to Dickens for some hand cranked coffee. These boys have got it all sorted!

Filtered and all, and a quid a cup! The beans may not be a pedigree blend from Monmouth or Square Mile, it was more than passable.

What’s next guys? Mulligatawny or dumplings and stew? Keep it up and hope you thrive.

Chatsworth Road Market is still pretty much experimental, so if you’re reading this please give it a go. Their twitter feed here.


*"Sodcast [noun]: Music, on a crowded bus, coming from the speaker on a mobile phone. Sodcasters are terrified of not being noticed, so they spray their audio wee around the place like tomcats." As brilliantly coined by Pascal Wyse from the Guardian.



Chatsworth Road Market, E5

Şömine

"The urge to wider voyages . . . caused I to stumble upon Şömine"
(to quote and unquote Kenneth Cragg).

About eighteen months ago I made an epic trip by bus to experience the much hyped grilled meats at the Mangal Ocakbasi Restaurant in Dalston but was eventually let down by my geographical incompetence. In those days (and yes as recent as that) one had to rely solely on a hard copy of the A-Z (mine was inexplicably misplaced during the journey involving three buses) and my mobile was (and still is) satnav-less. Thereafter I had as much chance with Mangal as Scott did with the North Pole. Thankfully the despondency was short-lived, I noticed whilst getting off the 149 on Kingsland High Street a bustling cafeteria a few feet away from the stop. The alleviation from the Mangal fiasco came in the form of Şömine.

Like Vietnamese the Turkish language and depending on one’s provenance it’s either blessed or riddled with an abundance of diacritics. Şömine (sh-me-nay), or without the cedilla and umlaut, Somine (albeit ignorantly as so-mine or so-meenie) is Turkish for a fireplace or grate. Şömine perceives and typifies as a workmen’s café, populated by strong taches of Anatolian persuasion and Hackney luvvies. It’s a canteen serving Turkish food without denting your wallet. Hearty meals can be had here for under a tenner. Similar to Wonkys, it epitomises a 3/5 stars rating, neither lower nor higher simply because it’s thus so. And again like the Soho stalwart and Khan’s for that matter, the service at Şömine would appear to be conniving if you wish to encourage it in the first place. So lay down your arms and be sensible, we’re talking cheap eats and communal dining here and not about a place that appraises your whims.

The menu. This is important, as it’s the only printed one the restaurant has in its possession and it can only be viewed from the shop-front. In fact the menu is only indicative, abolish all intensive-ordering plans as Şömine decides what dishes they decide to serve that day.

Back to the window display and you’ll need to decide from a lamb, lamb, chicken, lamb, lamb or a token vegetarian dish. Şömine serves pre-cooked classic Turkish dishes served from food warmers from dusk till dawn. Turkish food is not just about…look if you’re after kebabs et al here, then you’re barking up erroneously.

The Soups- now this place is an absolute haven for soups. They’re served with a large basket (kitschy plastic jobbies) of warm floury Turkish bread (more than enough for the die-hard carb dependants), olives and pickles. Additionally they cost no more than 4 quid each and I thought Ricky Tomlinson was generous! Oh before you harp on about blandness and lack of this or that, please do pay a bit of attention to the condiments on your table of malt vinegar, pepper, salt, dried chilli flakes and lemon wedges on the table. They’re there for a reason!

Mercimek Çorbası
Lentil Soup. Had this recently when my tummy was still rumbling after a disastrous evening at Thăng Long. The wonderful tasting soup with its authenticated graininess was placative and remedial. If sanctified is too strong a word then so be it.

Tavuk Çorbası
Chicken Soup with rice. Not bad but certainly not as memorable as this.

Paça Çorbası
Trotter Soup. Yes I know, Sybil, halal and what not, ‘tis only a literal translation, it’s actually goat’s or sheep’s feet soup. An absolutely delight, if you get to eat this über umami-laden dish then you’ll love this as well. Don’t forget to spice and tang it up, it’s brill!

Güveç
Lamb casserole with aubergines, tomatoes, onions, etc. Excellent. This dish is great for peeps that harbour an aversion to all things bleating!

Pirzola
Lamb on the bone or shanks with potatoes and tomato sauce.

Juicy, melting, and tender- the best pirzola I’ve had in London. I believe that like the Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad at St. John, this dish is sacrosanct at Şömine.

It’s worth noting that all the mains are a fiver each.

Saray Burmasi
Walnut and pistachio baklava. Achingly sticky and sweet dessert but universally delectable!

Wanna a decent coffee now? Then head off nearby to either Mouse & de Lotz or Tina, we salute you and immerse oneself in Huxley’s Brave New World.

Hail Hackney, hail Dalston, and hail Şömine! Enjoy.



131 Kingsland High Street
London E8 2PB

Mouse & de Lotz

If you’re gonna name a business that includes an animal then a taste of success (euphorically to boot) is guaranteed most of the time, well at least initially. I should know as my own shop (it’s boring…vinyl related and so on) is named after an aquatic animal and I can still afford to eat, drink and be merry (lambrini and kebabs of course) after 14 years. A trading name that permits an animal noun will undoubtedly pull, intrigue and mock the hoi polloi…well, let’s put this way it should be bleeding essential when studying for an MBA course. But as always with most things in life, bounds appear to spoil the fun, I mean can you imagine the seppuku moment as soon as the shop sign depicts something like Albatross Airlines, Cockroach Larder, Moths’ Dry Cleaners or Poodle Noodles (yes that's poor and beyond, I grant thee)!

Mouse & de Lotz cheeky-fies! The name teases and compels, it’s an alnico! Like the nearby Dalston Superstore, Abney Park and Super Halal Chicken, they all scream be there or be square! MdL is indeed based in Hackney, a borough blessed and fraught with indie caffs serving Square Mile Coffee. Why can’t we get a decent Flat White in Acton, Finchley or Sutton instead? This is because all the impossibly beautiful and articulate young things (yes they include the liberally moderated, arts-orientated, Grauniad readers and think that Cameron is a pseudonym for all things cancerous) prefer to reside or loiter around in Hackney. However MdL bodes well with yours truly, he who digests the Telegraph for breakfast, a framed portrait of a certain W. Jefferson Hague in his bog and resident of W2. Mouse & de Lotz is a beautiful and cosy new addition to your must-visit list.

MdL has been vaguely reviewed by Time Out, but I missed it and I daresay so did most of you. The caff is named after the two young and beautiful (hold your horses and behave please) ladies, Nadya Mousawi and Victoria de Lotz; they run and own the place. And I might as well refer them as Coffee Goddesses, the Flat Whites here are stunning!

There’s a lot of wood here...

... and apart from the counter, the place is virtually devoid of MDF. The pieces of furniture were sought from a pre-Ikea hegemony.

Love the various Victorian postcards on the wall with added 21st century cheerful impertinence.

''Better a mouse in the pot than no meat at all"- Romanian proverb.

Overall warmth exudes therewith.

The menu that confuses no one, straightforward Bob’s your uncle. Oh, the chorizo pie...

Reiterative reminder- the excellent flattie.

Cheese on toast, with mustard, Worcestershire sauce and homemade chutney. Excellent restorative fodder after a heady night.

Salt beef on sourdough rye (toasted if I may), mustard, salad and foetal gherkins (cornichons to the snobs). Not the usual carved warmed variety but room temperature slices, but deliciousness prevails nonetheless.

Toasted teacakes. A butter mountain is essential here, go for it you know it makes sense!

In addition MdL occasionally holds a supper club during the evenings and the first one they hosted was less than 25 quid a head. I’ve been informed they’re licensed to sell booze, so curtail any BYO aspirations you might have. Do check out their FB site for more details.

MdL is one place that doesn’t take the mickey. I love it and I’m sure you will likewise. Highly recommended.



This wasn’t an invite to review, I paid me own way (two occasions to be precise), as their cash register is one of those that doesn’t print receipts.


103 Shacklewell Lane
Hackney
London E8 2EB

www.mousedelotz.com

Mess Café

I’m not even a resident (am a long-term Notting Hillbilly, ‘nuff of that) of Hackney but I might as well be bestowed with a little gold star for voicing its worth. I have and always will believe that the sun does indeed shine more brightly on this part of London; oft flawed and rough yes, but I see it as a paradise without order and decree. Oh, the rawness and edginess…an accidental splendour! And unlike the other boroughs in London I don’t think boredom quite fits in; Hackney I suppose assuages the grief from our daily modi operandorum. It’s a precarious beauty - it draws the 20 and 30 somethings to its immense but soon-to-be-crowded lair because of the purportedly affordable accommodation, fringe art galleries, the bus with the greatest frequency courtesy of Transport for London that’s route 38, beautiful skies (I kid you not, if Heathrow was based here the passengers arriving wouldn’t be greeted with grim grey skies!), the Square Mile Coffee monopoly that’s evident in countless independent caffs that are dotted around the borough, discarded chicken bones contributing to street art like chewing gums to Oxford Street, it’s also home to the Murder Mile of Britain as well as the Pho Mile, the virginal and new London Overground (appreciate the pristine carriages before they’re strewn with messy graffiti!) and not to mention the 2012 Olymp…I could go on but the Word prog is having an issue with my grammatically dodgy long sentences. Look just love Hackney before Octagon turns the marshes into poncy and posh living quarters with a golf club attached.

You still with me? Good, if you want to get pissed senseless and end up with the mother of hangovers the morning after then there’s a cure, Hackney Central is your salvation. It’s the home of Mess Café. I’ve deliberately deferred the post about it because queuing up for your grub is a discomforting chore that should be abolished without question. Mess Café happens to be one of Hackney’s best kept secrets, it’s a greasy spoon that takes no prisoners, and it excels! Yes let’s ponder back ‘bout the queues, unfortunately they’re part and parcel at Mess, and that includes weekdays where folks like local civil servants, aspiring YBAs and yum mums with Russell Group degrees await, albeit sensibly, for their tables and subsequently devour the rewarding and absolutely delicious badass tings like eggs (battery of course) and chips (frozen no less). Yess, Mess’s a greasy spoon where one can enjoy a good meal without Lady Bamford of Daylesford and her disciples presiding over what you can or cannot eat. Life’s too short, so curb whatever conscience you might be influenced by, I insist that you should treat yourself to some domestic pig goodies like bacon and sausages. It may well not be from a Gloucestershire Old Spot or Middle White breed but you and I know full well the they taste glorious and they’re cheap as chips. Long live greasy spoons and likewise fry-ups!

Mess Café is an established greasy spoon and of late it decided to transform itself and comply with modernity. Unfortunately the up-to-date procedure turned it into a clinical looking canteen fit for an industrial park

They tried hard with the Lichtensteins...

...but I think Banksy’s more appropriate. Thankfully the wonderful grub remains the same. Like a majority of greasy spoons in Hackney, Mess is meticulously run by either Turks or Kurds and for some ironic reason they’re masters at cooking the most perfectly crisp bacon rashers! I would abhor any comments about the service here, it’s a caff FGS! Don’t expect slickness, the unashamed slackness persists because they’re busy and thus so.

Shiny happy menu

Reading material vaguely provided

As for the times of trouble (hangover, etc), don’t expect Mother Mary to come to you and speak words of wisdom! You cometh here for the cure and this is it- The redoubtable Mess Breakfast-

Not quite a full English but unquestionably fulfils nonetheless. It includes crispy (undyingly consistent), back bacon, a little sausage (size matters but who gives a monkey’s!), fried egg (essentially over easy), grilled mushrooms and tomato, sautéed potatoes and choices of the following- white, brown or granary toast and tea or coffee

£4.70 for the lot.

If Shane MacGowan came here on a late Sunday morning and had this dish, he would sober up in no time.

For the fry-up purists you can create your own dream plateful to include more eggs, baked beans, black pudding, hash browns, tinned tomatoes (love ‘em), and various veggie options.

In addition to the usual omelettes and token ginormous salads, Mess accomplishes itself with fancy but delicious looking focaccia platters and half-decent homemade burgers-

With cheese and egg

Pound for pound it’s more substantial than the ones from chainy Byrons and it’s loads cheaper. It’s perfectly palatable and you can have it cooked anyway you fancy as long as it’s well done.

Secret’s out, one of the best breakfasts sought in London. Hail Mess! Enjoy.


*Receipts do not figure here and this wasn’t an invite to review!
** What's so wrong with Comic Sans? Nothing, I’m common and I love it!

38 Amhurst Road
London E8 1JN