Giving up Alcohol: The Diary of a Gin Lover

Posted on September 2, 2012 by Delia

So after two rigorous days of flipping tyres, swinging off ropes and generally grunting a lot, I am back from boot camp. On the last night our lovely trainer Kyle offered to buy us a glass of wine. It was the third night of abstinence (boot camp rules) and we all looked at each other unsure of whether we were ready to slip back into our boozy ways.

‘Nope, I’m going all the way,’ cried Lucy, one of my co-boot campers, which prompted some sniggers from the boys. But I knew what she meant, we had been healthy for two days now and surely it would be easy to just carry on, the hard bit was done, the camel’s back was well and truly broken, or whatever the phrase is.

‘Me too,’ I cried, inspired by Lucy’s passion. ‘I’m giving up alcohol!’

Well this got a few looks.

‘For how long?’ asked Simon, another lovely co-boot camper, from Sheffield.

‘Until my mother’s birthday and I go to Bali,’ I declared boldly. ‘Next Saturday,’ I added.

People started laughing and shaking their heads. I was confused, that included one and a half weekends, I had never gone without booze for so long. Turns out a week and a half isn’t very long according to a lot of people. But this was my Everest and here’s how I got on…

Friday

I won a bottle of wine at work. How’s that for a bit of irony. And to make matters worse it was a bottle of Tempranillo, my favourite. Or at least one of. I looked at it a lot today, wondering if because it was free, and in fact a prize, perhaps it didn’t count. I left it at work.

I’ve had a long day, 12 hours in the office, tackling a challenging story. I could murder a G&T… We have a beautiful gin in our cupboard. So beautiful you could, and should, drink it without tonic. Although it also goes beautifully with a Fever-Tree tonic water and a slice of cucumber. I touched it, just so I could take a photo you see.

Matty was cooking a delicious daal when I got home, with a beetroot and yoghurt raita and everything. He casually broke the news, while chopping coriander, that he has been given a promotion. Currently working as a district nurse he has been promoted to matron for the Hucknall area. ‘Oooooh, Matron,’ I cried, ‘We must drink some champagne!’

It was an empty offer. I poured us a glass of sparkling water each. (He’s working tomorrow and says he doesn’t mind, I feel guilty.)

Saturday

It helps that I am skint this weekend. I can’t really afford to go out. Instead my good friend Gemma blagged me a day pass to her Virgin Active gym in Nottingham (much posher than mine – it has air conditioning, lanes in the swimming pool, conditioner in the showers and get this, make up remover in the changing rooms, not to mention the plastic bags they give away for wet swimming costumes). I am impressed. If I was rich I would join this gym. Or if I gave up drinking forever I could probably join this gym and have personal trainer sessions. I thought about this while I swam in the gym’s beautiful pool, which I think must have been the main lobby of the former Great Northern Railway Station, with it’s impressive architecture and high ceiling. I pretended I was an Olympian athlete for a while and attempted a length of butterfly. A lot of the water left the pool and I didn’t quite finish the length. I am better at drinking gin.

Afterwards, Gemma suggested a drink at our favourite bar, the Jam Cafe in Nottingham(that’s my review for the Nottingham Post). I am worried, they have the wonderful Kwak Belguim beer (8%) you see, a heart warming brew that’s deliciously strong. Gemma even offers to buy me an alcoholic beverage. I watched her drink her Sauvignon Blanc, while I sipped my sparkling water. I was not bitter.

I was however, appeased by a delicious board of warm, crunchy bread served with a beautifully nutty homemade pesto and a hummus that had a wonderfully sweet flavour. We also munched on a reassuringly large bowl of olives. If you have never made it to the Jam Cafe you must go, I don’t care where you live.

Check out Gemma with those olives.

We moved on and had a drink in the beer garden of The Lion in Basford. I upped my game, had a diet coke and a water. Crazy times.

Tonight is actually fine. I am writing this, organising photos, doing ‘stuff’. Matty is working and it’s just me and the kettle. I’ve had about five cups of tea so far, but hey, who’s counting?

Sunday

I won’t lie, I feel smug. The rest of the world woke with banging heads this morning but I woke feeling refreshed and did something I have never done on a Sunday before… and may never do again. I went to the gym. I barely recognised myself walking in and I’m sure even the staff even raised their eyebrows. As the receptionist swiped my membership card she gave me the why-aren’t-you-in-bed-with-a-raging-hangover look. I felt the need to tell her I wasn’t drinking. Must get over this desire to tell everybody who crosses my path.

So I went and pumped some iron, or something like that. Went to a ‘super circuit’ class, and if I’m honest now it hurts to pick up a full pint of water. A wine glass would be much lighter…

Monday

Mondays have never been a drinking day for me. The day of rest and recovery, it’s how the Big Man planned it. However this Monday was a bit different. Firstly, I was definitely perkier at work (was chatting to colleagues before even 10am) and secondly, I started craving beer and cheese at about noon. That’s strange, even by my standards and I can’t really explain it.

I went to see Michael McIntyre tonight, a funny man who is funnier live because he swears and is slightly less ‘prime time’. The interval was a strange affair, without a belly full of beer the was no need to queue for the loo, and with my water bottle only half empty there was no need to go to the bar. Intervals are a boring affair for tee-totalers.

Tuesday

Tonight as I cycled home from work I was greeted with perhaps one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve seen in Nottingham yet. Like a child I threw my bike down at the Forest Recreation Ground and excitedly took some photos. Every few minutes the colour of the entire sky shifted, it was as if buckets of paint had been poured down on the clouds, and they were slowly mixing the colours together as they glided across the sky. I do love an urban sunset.

And this was just taken on the manual setting with no Photoshopping…. beautiful.

Saturday

So I’ve skipped a few days. I was worried it might turn into a ‘Dear Diary, today I drank water. It was sparkling’ kind of journal if I wasn’t careful.

To summarise, Wednesday was tricky. Have you ever gone to a Chinese BYO and not drunk? I wasn’t even sure if that meant you also had to bring your own soft drinks. I fought the peer pressure. Thursday, I don’t even remember Thursday.

And then suddenly it was Friday, aka the-day-before-the-night-I-could-drink. I bounced home from work, I was extremely excitable, not just because it was the-day-before-the-night-I-could-drink. No, I was excitable because this weekend we go to Bali for our long awaited three week holiday.

I wanted to celebrate. I wanted toast the backpack, I wanted to toast my flip flops, my bikini, my passport. I wanted to toast the sun, which has not been out to play all that much in the UK this year. I wanted to toast my list of things to pack. You get the idea, I very much fancied a cheeky tipple, I was in holiday mood.

Matty did tell me that he wouldn’t tell anyone if I shared his can of Boddingtons. I’m not sure if it was my morals or my distaste for Boddingtons but instead I treated myself to some sparkling elderflower juice instead. And wow, I was a productive packer. No trying on random stuff that I always believe I will look nice in after a few drinks, no temptation to pack that thong bikini from Tenerife circa 2000 and no spilling wine on my clean holiday clothes. I was efficient.

And finally, at about 5pm today, after one week and six days of not drinking a single drop of alcohol, the time had arrived. It was time to break my sobriety. It’s my mother’s birthday so I had already decided that bubbles would be appropriate. A nice cold flute of Prosecco. For her you see, not for me. She couldn’t start her 63rd year any other way, I insisted. We held our glasses up and toasted to her good health and as I lifted the flute to my mouth I could feel the bubbles breaking against my nose.

It was perfect, the sun was setting and all the family was there. A chilled wind ran over us and I shivered.

‘We’ll be alright,’ said my brother’s girlfriend Becky.

‘We’ll just get our champagne jackets on.’

I nodded happily. My favourite jacket.

Diet Tips from a Boot Camp Virgin

Posted on August 30, 2012 by Delia

For the very first time in years, about 10 years if I’m honest, I have eaten out without consuming any wine. That is right, there was not even a Holy-Communion-sized thimble of wine. I enjoyed a three course meal in a restaurant and there was no wine.

I, Delia Jane Monk, drank water. My body is a temple. I am at ~~fat camp~~ boot camp.

This is not me, it is the lovely Lucy who is also on boot camp and just so happens to be behind my water

Some of you who don’t know me very well might think that this is an exaggeration, but I can assure you it is not. I live in a city where I do not need to drive a car, and I have never been pregnant, why would I have ever forgone wine with dinner?

However, I am currently residing at Clumber Park Hotel and Spa near Worksop in Notts where I am trialling a new boot camp session they are planning to launch next year. My meals have been planned by a nutritionist (get me!) and only water will pass these lips. In for a penny, in for a pound.

I know my love for wine and food makes me an odd guinea pig choice for a boot camp trial but it comes with my job you see. I shall be reviewing the boot camp for the Nottingham Post, and for that reason I shall stay fairly tight-lipped about the muddy, sweaty details of what I am enduring. However, I thought it was wrong not to share with you a few healthy diet tips I’ve picked up.

1) Beer has ’empty calories’. Best fact of the day. This means that after a squiffy night on the ales you just need to work out the next day, apparently beer calories burn off very, very easily and don’t take much trouble to shift if you do it in the next couple of days. Told you this one was good eh?!

2) White wine has less calories than red wine. A small glass of white has about 125 calories compared to about 180 in a cheeky little red glass.

3) When you drink ice cold water, the water sticks to your fat. It’s always better to drink water at room temperature so your body doesn’t waste time trying to deal with all that cold water. Don’t forget the other little things – always take the stairs instead of the lift, walk or cycle to work if you can.

4) Waking up in the morning and just doing five minutes of exercise will speed up your metabolism for the day. Just a minute of squats, sit-ups, press ups, star jumps or whatever takes your fancy could make all the difference if you do it every day. Also have a glass of water first thing… Apparently this is another metabolism booster..

5) If your fitness is not improving then you need to mix it up. Instead of that same old four mile run, try running up a hill and walking down it four times. Allow your body to recover, then do it again five more times.

6) Eat dinner between 6pm and 8.30pm, try to eat your carb intake at lunch time instead of at your evening meal. Apparently your meat should never be bigger than the size of your palm, and it is better to eat five small meals a day than three large ones.

7) It is true that eating celery burns of more calories than you put on eating it. That’s why supermodels are skinny.

8) Eating hot food is good for your metabolism but…

9) You should not eat takeaway curry once a week. Worst fact ever. Kyle, our wonderful trainer, has even informed me (curry fans log off now) that if you are really committed to a hard workout then, and only then, is it ok to have curry once a month. Once a month?! I guess I’ll just have to make them hotter…

Disclaimer: If any of these facts are found to be incorrect it is because I a) am slightly hard of hearing and was sitting at the end of the dinner table and b) because I now have too much blood in my alcohol system.

Best pubs in Nottingham for Sunny Nibbles

Posted on August 11, 2012 by Delia

This summer I vowed I would sample every single sunny terrace, garden, bench and patio that Nottingham’s pubs have to offer. Often disappointed by the lack of sun traps that serve beer in the city I think this is an important task that must be carried out so we know once and for all where we can chase the sun with our favourite tipple.

Unfortunately we haven’t had that much sun. This means when he does come out, with his hat on, I run to my two favourite sunny retreats, too terrified that I may stumble across a terrace of shade if I try elsewhere.

These staples are, my friends, The Lion in Basford, with it’s large, sunny beer garden and ample seating, and the Golden Fleece, with its sun-kissed inner city roof top terrace. The Lion, which is nestled in the heart of Nottingham’s old factory quarter, has a fantastic range of ales and is the sort of place where you can take a blanket and throw yourself on the grass for the day. Don’t be surprised if a group of Morris Men rock up for a dance.

However, this summer I have discovered a wonderful addition to the summer dining scene. It’s called called Tapas Tuesday and can be found at the trusty Golden Fleece.

It was any other Tuesday afternoon, except it was sunny, so Matty and I abandoned our shopping trip and made our way to the Golden Fleece (Mansfield Road, Nottingham if you’re not a local). We were actually the first people there (note the Golden fleece opens at 4pm on Tuesdays and not 11am, I promise) so we easily bagged ourselves one of the large wooden tables that adorn the roof terrace.

With large planters of colourful flowers sitting on green painted wooden panels around the terrace, it has a bit of a secret garden feel to it. Feeling smug with ourselves (warning – you can’t always get a seat), we were delighted to learn it was Tapas Tuesday. This not only means they are serving an exciting range of tapas dishes that are not normally on the menu, but you can have four dishes for £10 – and a bottle of wine for £7.50. Folks, it does not get much better than this. Especially on a Tuesday.

The chef was still writing the menu and preparing the food but at 5pm, with the ink still wet, we were handed the first-printed menu of the day. On it was a delicious selection of mouth-watering dishes, which we inevitably failed to narrow down to four.

Sipping our £7.50 bottle of wine (which admittedly is not the finest wine available to humanity but nevertheless is an adequate bottle of plonk that comes with an ice bucket) we eagerly awaited our dishes. Slowly they were laid out in front of us.

The chorizo slices came in narrow strips, perfectly fried so their juices and flavours were contained by the crisp finish but oozed out as you bit into them. The king prawns were just that, king of the sea world, and beautifully marinated, while the patatas bravas resembled sliced, roasted new potatoes with a tangy tomato sauce. Perhaps the star of the show for me was the slices of halloumi cheese which were served piping hot and melted in your mouth, alongside a sun blushed tomato salad.

It was a feast that would not have been out of place in Spain, and as the sun beat down, you could almost, almost imagine the alleyway below was an infinity pool and that the distant hum of cars on Mansfield Road was actually the waves of a far away ocean lapping the golden shores. Almost.

My search for a healthy restaurant

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Delia

I DID quite well this Easter. A couple of eggs, a delicious Lindt bunny and a ginormous slab of Hotel Chocolat’s finest. I did try to ration myself but the inevitable happened and it was all scoffed within a week or so.

It was with this in mind that my friend and I went in search of a “healthy restaurant” the other day. This is a bit of a rarity for me; I usually see eating out as an opportunity to break free from healthy eating; after all restaurant calories don’t really count and it’s such a pity to not make the most of three courses when someone is offering to cook them for you. But this was different. With a belly full of Easter eggs, all my principles went out of the window.

I was totally out of my comfort zone. Googling “healthy eating Nottingham”, I realised I had no idea where to start.

It was my friend who suggested Yo! Sushi. It was the obvious choice. Under normal conditions, it’s somewhere I would probably disregard – fine for a lunch option but eating raw fish is not top of my agenda when it comes to the dinner-time-gorge.

Plus it’s a chain, and with so many fantastic independent restaurants in Nottingham, I try to avoid the big names. Nevertheless, a bit of rice paper and smoked salmon seemed the perfect solution to an over-indulgent Easter.

We walked into the bright, airy restaurant and were shown to our seats at the conveyer belt. For those of you who have not been to Yo! Sushi before, the seats line a circular bar with chefs in the middle preparing the food. A conveyer belt lines the bar, carrying lots of little dishes that look a bit like spaceships – and you just grab what you want.

Normally the dishes are different colours, each having different prices, but turns out we were there on bargain Monday so all the dishes were a mere £2.50 – and it was a selection of hot and cold sushi dishes rather than the whole menu. Being a bit of a magpie with food I was in my element.

“Ooh, let’s have this one… and this one… ooh, and that one.” That was pretty much how the evening went (accompanied by a bottle of sauvignon blanc). We began with a dish of edamame beans – I always find it immensely satisfying to suck out the fresh green beans from their deliciously salty shell – and then grabbed a passing rice dish which I can only describe as a salmon-paella, bursting with flavour and very moreish.

We were also big fans of the raw beef strips – like carpaccio – they were drizzled in a tangy dressing with some pickle garnish – so good we had to have two and, after all, the rest of the week they’re one of the more expensive dishes.

My friend grabbed some smoked salmon slices that tasted so fresh they almost melted in your mouth and a delicious salad/vegetable dish that we also went back for seconds with.

However, the real star of the show was the Hairy Prawns. Wow. The Hairy Prawns were something else; giant, meaty prawns wrapped in wispy strips of light tempura batter and deep fried, accompanied by a wasabi mayonnaise. Incredibly juicy and so big that it would have been a challenge to eat in fewer than three bites. Yes, we went in for seconds – it would have been rude not to.

After slowly grazing through the savoury dishes we started to take note of the sweet options that were passing in front of us. Suddenly Easter felt like a really long time away as we reached for some little pancake custard sandwiches that came with a little pot of raspberry coulis. They went down a treat – we might have had seconds. We also tried some more unusual multi-coloured “rice cake balls” with a sweet prune filling that didn’t really taste of much at all.

While we rubbed our bellies, the waitress counted the number of empty plates that were stacked up in front of us to work out the bill. There were 12. But the plates are very small after all, and we did have some raw fish on one, which is virtually fat free… I concluded our healthy eating night had been a roaring success. Yo! Sushi is now also on my list of places that offer a good dinner-time gorge.

I Love The Petebox. Fact.

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Delia

I have to admit I was a little bit confused when walking into the Contemporary for Petebox’s ‘gig’ last week. Expecting to see groups of people huddled together, clutching their beers in anticipation of the long-awaited show, I was surprised to find the room had been transformed into an auditorium with raised seating facing a large cinema screen.

Somewhat baffled we took our seats. For those of you who don’t know PeteBox, he’s a local lad who makes incredible sounds with his mouth. He can bop, he can beat, in fact he can make his voice sound like almost any instrument imaginable. Then he records each sound as he goes, looping them on top of each other to get the full effect. And last Friday it was the launch of his first album. Having released each song on YouTube, it was finally time to launch Future Loops – and I was a little bit excited about it. But nevertheless, confused as to why I was in a cinema.

PeteBox, who’s real name is Peter Sampson, stood in the aisle, greeting people as they walked in, clearly glad to see some familiar faces at the sell-out event. And as the lights dimmed, he stepped into a spotlight, dressed in a turquoise silk jacket, and explained he had prepared an audio visual show for us that night because that is, after all, what he is all about.

He moved to the side and the screen came to life – kicking off with his excellent rendition of Kids by MGMT. His face filled the screen as he threw the baseline into the microphone, followed by another couple of levels and a melody that sounded more like a trumpet than something a voice box could produce. Already sounding more like a four-piece band than a one man act, he started to sing. And this is where the PeteBox offers something really quite special, on top of all of this raw and unique talent he also has a wonderful voice that would hold you captive even without the beats. Oh, and did I mention he also plays the guitar?

He then proceeded to take us through the journey of his first album; each artfully shot, highlighting his talent, creativity and passion. From the garden setting for a take of Nirvana’s Lithium to the home-studio-style setting he chose for Crimewave, an original track.

The audience broke into applause at the end of each shot, with Pete in the sidelines it was almost felt like a live performance. As impressive as it was I was desperate to see him live and had everything crossed that he would perform. PeteBox did not disappoint. As the last film drew to an end, the screen disappeared and he was back in the spotlight, this time with a microphone and his loop recording kit. Huge black curtains were tied back on each side, with the large theatre-style drapes both framing and dwarfing his body.

It was the moment we had waited for, and I almost felt nervous. Having seen such an impressive collection on screen, I just hoped he’d be able to pull it off live. And he did. He performed Wave and Where is my Mind with breathtaking perfection that rivalled the pre-recorded collection. We watched in fascination as each sound and beat was looped, once again transforming him into that fictitious band.

As the evening drew to a close I felt privileged to have been part of such a momentous event. I might not have done my research, leaving me unaware that it was more of a screening than a gig, but on reflection I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Instead I walked out in awe of both his live lyrical and digital visual talents. And this is just the beginning.

BrewDog Nottingham – A Must for all Beer and Cheese Fans

Posted on March 24, 2012 by Delia

Having lived in Nottingham for the best part of 10 years now I tend to get quite excited when something new opens that is a little bit different. I did it about Coco Tang (shotlived), Tilt cocktail bar (go!) and Spanky Van Dykes (thoroughly recommend). However, I think I might have just made the most exciting discovery yet. And its name is BrewDog.

A couple of people had mentioned it to me and there were excited whispers running around the office this week: “New bar’s opened. Makes its own beer”, that sort of thing. And so yesterday, on a cheeky afternoon off, Matty and I went and checked it out.

I found it on my favourite Nottingham street (Broad Street) in the old Shaw’s building, which is a pretty cool building in itself. The interior has a funky minimalist feeling with exposed brick walls, wooden floors and traditional 1930s style filament light bulbs, hanging naked from the ceiling.

Enough about the decor. We made our way to the bar to be greeted with a very impressive selection of beer. Rows of uniquely labelled bottles lined the fridges while a big chalk board on the wall above listed the ales on tap. My eyes flicked around like a magpie that had accidentally flown into a jewellery shop.

I have to confess I don’t know a great deal about “proper beer” – despite the fact that my work once sent me on a beer tasting course in a desperate bid to culture my lager-loving ways. Determined to keep a lid on my Stella and Sauvignon Blanc habit, I just meekly said: “Do you have anything golden?” Well that brought the bar man to life. His eyes lit up and he said: “Everything we have tastes golden” and I knew then, me and the BrewDog, we were going to work.

He went on to explain that all the beers are very “hoppy” with more hops than your average beer to bring out the different flavours. A consequence of this is that some of the beers are very strong – ranging from about 5% right up to the Anarchist Alchemist which is a whopping 15%. Our Aussie bar man explained the beers were brewed for flavour – not for the strength, and that was just a mere consequence of the process. Skeptical, that anything that strong could really taste of anything but Special Brew, he proceeded to give us a sample. And wow, it was wonderful. Resembling something more like a liqueur than a beer, it was sweet and bursting in flavours, and left my chest with that warm glow not dissimilar to the brandy-effect. Nevertheless it was only 4pm on a Friday so after sampling a few of their best sellers, I opted for the 5am Saint (5% ABV) while Matty went for the Punk IPA. Mine was a delicious rum coloured number – and please excuse the lack of appropriate beer tasting prose here – but it almost tasted fizzy, it was the perfect temperature (colder than normal ales) and had a bit of a sweet aftertaste to it. Yum. Matty’s was more of a pale ale, which was slightly drier.

We took our drinks over to a little booth and started planning what we were going to have next. It’s the kind of place that makes you want to sample everything on offer. Perhaps due to the strength of the beers, they were served in schooners (an Aussie sized beer which is about 2/3 of the size of a pint) and later, when I ordered the New Zealand Hardcore (9.2% ABV) it was served in a half. But the drinks are so rich and flavoursome that actually you don’t drink them half as fast as you would a lager or a pale ale, so the size is perfect. Personally, I love a good schooner – often think a pint can feel too big, going a bit flat at the end if you don’t drink fast enough, while a half is little more than a thimble. Yes the Schooner is the Goldilocks of beer glasses for me.

BrewDog also offers food matching advice for all of its beers and sells a selection of small bites. Feeling peckish we ordered a small cheese and meat board (£5) and were not disappointed. A far cry from the regular board of cheddar, stilton and brie often served at fridge temperature, this board was a little bit special. Yes there was a soft French cheese, which may have been brie, but it was so beautifully mature and so “ready” that it was oozing a little bit. It was joined by two other deliciously mature cheeses that shamefully neither of us could recognise but were wonderfully nutty in flavour.

So there you have it. A winning combination. Oh and girls, if you’re single, it seems to have a rather large male clientele – that weren’t all bad looking either. Right, I’m off for a beer.

Cross Keys, Nottingham: The Perfect Post-Work Drinking Den

Posted on March 23, 2012 by Delia

Nothing beats Friday night drinks. It’s the perfect reward for a hard week of work. But normally at about 7pm, after sinking a couple of aperitifs, you are left with the inevitable food dilemma. More often than not the pub or bar of choice doesn’t serve food, leaving you in an agonising quandary of whether to accept the inevitable and eat a dinner of salt and vinegar crisps or to leave the pub’s warm comfort for a restaurant of some description.

Well last week I found a great solution. It’s called the Cross Keys. The pub at the top of Byard Lane was refurbished about two years or so ago, and it is one of Nottingham’s cosier drinking dens. The pub’s smart yet traditional decor is a mix of wooden panelled walls, tan leather booths and a tartan carpet that would make any Scotsman proud.

Attracting a mixed crowd last Friday, real ale drinkers propped up the bar while 30-somethings sat around a few of the tables, sharing a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. But the other half of the pub serves as a restaurant; and herein lies the perfect solution to post-work drinks. My friend had arranged it all, and had fortunately called ahead the day before, so when our stomachs started grumbling we just crossed the room and slid into a reserved booth – the only empty table in sight.

The menu is very reasonably priced, making it a good option when you don’t want to blow the weekend budget on the first night. It boasts a good mix of traditional pub grub with some more unusual dishes thrown in – most of which cost around the £8 mark. And it was the more unusual options that attracted our attention. We opted to share the mussels and scallops in a Thai curry broth, followed by The Cross Keys Cassoulet, a sausage, confit duck leg and butter bean casserole, which we both ordered to avoid any cases of food envy.

The starter was impressive; an over-sized bowl held a generous portion of mussels and four large scallops that were swimming in a deliciously spicy broth laced in sweet coconut cream. We shamelessly finished it off like soup once the mussels had gone. The main course shortly followed, immediately leaving us both pleased with our choice. The cassoulet was served in a piping hot ramekin with a crusty baguette on the side and mixed salad. As we tucked in, it felt like a bottomless dish of rich, meaty flavours. The duck was so tender it fell apart around the fork, the sausage was succulent and the crusty bread was just right for mopping up the sauce. Despite our best efforts, the bottomless dish defeated us both in the end and we were left unable to even consider desserts, which include firm English favourites like sticky toffee pudding and apple and plum crumble served with whisky custard.

As our plates were cleared we realised that so had the restaurant side of the pub and we were the last table left. Having been so absorbed by the delicious grub and the flow of good conversation, we’d not even noticed the other tables leave. But even when surrounded by vacated tables, the pub has the sort of warm ambience that prevents it from feeling empty, aided by the chatter from the main pub.

We were then left with our final decision of the night; whether to nurse the remains of our wine at the table or to wander back into the lounge area. Either way, we both agreed it had been a pretty successful Friday night – and a discovery I couldn’t quite keep to myself.(Written for the Nottingham Post)

This is the posh room upstairs that you can hire out

Thai Grub in an English Pub: The Fox and Crown in Old Basford

Posted on March 18, 2012 by Delia

The Fox and Crown is best known for its beer and fine ales. Tucked away in a quiet street in Old Basford, Nottingham it is one of the few pubs that has managed to retain its own brewery. With it being just minutes from Basford tram stop, it attracts real ale drinkers from across the city.

However, I recently learnt that it is also home to a Thai restaurant. Striking me as a rather odd bedfellow for a traditional English pub, and following numerous recommendations, I decided to check it out.

It was a Monday night –the cupboards were bare, the supermarket posed an unthinkable challenge and there was an air of denial that the weekend was really over. The perfect night for pub grub. My partner rang ahead and reserved a table despite my scoffs that it was a Monday night and therefore totally unnecessary. But when we walked into the warm, carpeted pub and spied a reserved table for two tucked in the corner of a throng of taken tables, I counted my lucky stars.

Ordering a couple of Alcazar ales to get us into the swing of things (delicious, golden flavours) we made our way over to our table to pour over the menu. I had been told the Thai food is managed by a family who run a separate business to the pub, renting the tables in one half of the venue. But despite this I still half expected the menu to be pub grub with a few classic Thai dishes thrown into the mix.

Instead we were presented with a comprehensive, hard-back menu with a mouth-watering selection of dishes that would rival any Thai restaurant in town. We ordered some prawn crackers to silence our rumbling stomachs as we flicked through page after page of delicious-sounding dishes. The prawn crackers were top notch; crispy and thin – and not drowned in the greasy oil that many are plagued with. Served with a tangy sweet chilli sauce they were the perfect accompaniment to our menu deliberations.

We finally selected a platter dish to start, followed by a Thai red curry with chicken and stir fried prawns served with cashew nuts, coriander and tomatoes. With pub-style service, the food is ordered at a little counter to the side of the bar with its own cash register and a little bell that brings someone out of the kitchen. In fact the same man who took our order and served us our food, appeared to have cooked it as well. Next stop was the bar, as the food and drinks are run separately I turned 90 degrees to face the barman who promptly opened me a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (costing a mere £10).

Back on our table, which was beside a small fire, we were quickly presented with our starter. Boasting a fine selection of Thai goodies, it featured a fish cake, prawn toast, curried vegetable spring roll, chicken wings and perhaps most divinely of all, a king-sized Thai battered prawn. The batter on the prawn and spring roll was light and crispy, accentuating the flavours of the prawn and vegetables. The juicy and perfectly cooked prawn was marinated in Thai spices and coriander – my only complaint was that there was not more than one. However, the platter was the perfect size to feed two people as a starter.

The prawn dish that followed was equally delicious. Prawns are so easy to overcook but this place has them down to a tee – firm and juicy – and perfectly complemented by subtle Thai flavours. The dish was dressed in a light, oyster-tasting sauce with crunchy vegetables and freshly ripped coriander. By contrast our red curry provided the creamy Thai kick that we had been craving – my only criticism was it could have been richer in flavour. Nevertheless, the plates were promptly licked clean and we were left with satisfied stomachs and tingling taste buds.

Our place mats and plates were promptly cleared, leaving our little wooden table with just beer mats and ale glasses. We were back in the pub again, as if we had just imagined a journey through Thailand’s culinary delights.

An unlikely bedfellow, yes – but one I thoroughly recommend.

(Written for the Nottingham Post)

A Rather Special Caribbean Restaurant in Nottingham

Posted on March 15, 2012 by Delia

Admittedly there are a lot of differences between the Caribbean and Radford. There’s the weather, of course, and the lack of swaying palm trees and white sandy shores, to name a few. But if you can, for the moment, just forget those few minor details, then you might be able to see a little bit of the Caribbean in Alfreton Road, and it’s really taking off.

The road boasts a growing number of Caribbean takeaways including Dad’s Kitchen, Caribbean Flavours and Mr Cool, offering a taste of the tropics as well as a selection of food stores that stock the vital ingredients to bring the dishes to life at home.

The latest addition to the collection is Big Poppa’s, which opened in a former bank building about five weeks ago. Its incredibly affordable prices make it a good mid-week option and with no more than £15 in our pockets between us we headed down to check it out on a Wednesday night.

With high ceilings and huge windows, the restaurant enjoys a chic minimalist decor in red, cream and black with modern, dark-wood tables and large framed pictures of black icons including Martin Luther King and Bob Marley.

As we walked in we were greeted warmly by a man behind the counter, who ushered us in and showed us to a table. He apologetically explained that they had run out of a few dishes. They had enjoyed a surprisingly busy lunch, he explained. But it didn’t seem to matter as he made some mouth-watering suggestions and volunteered to stray off the menu for us to try and make amends.

While they did not have the right cut of meat for the traditional jerk chicken, he said he could easily prepare some chicken breast with the same sauce, and my partner opted for the saltfish with rice and peas. Unfortunately there was no plantain that night but we threw in a couple of deep-fried dumplings for good measure.

Big Poppa’s is in the process of acquiring an alcohol licence but in the meanwhile it is one of Nottingham’s few BYO (Bring Your Own) establishments – and there’s no corkage charge, making it an extra cheap option for the time being.

We were given glasses to save us drinking from the can (Jamaican Red Stripe lager, of course) and enjoyed watching the world go past through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. Inevitably they do also have an impact on the temperature of the restaurant and we had chosen one of the coldest nights of the year to dine; the irony of eating Caribbean grub in my coat was not lost on me.

Nevertheless, the food was superb. The chicken was good quality and succulent, drenched in a spicy and sweet jerk sauce and provided the perfect antidote to the frost outside. My plate was piled high with chips and chicken, an incredibly generous portion for the £6 paid. It wasn’t the same barbecued, chargrilled jerk chicken I’ve sampled at festivals before but it was very tasty, and I did wonder if the standard half jerk chicken, which is normally available, might be more like this.

Meanwhile, my partner’s saltfish was equally delicious; a melody of ingredients that was soft on the palate but bursting with flavour. The fish was not too salty and was nicely offset by the warm dough dumplings that were slightly sweet in taste. We struggled to clean the plates due to the generous portions but our determined effort to not see good food wasted triumphed in the end.

Staff at the family-run restaurant are passionate about the food and seemed genuinely pleased to hear how much we had enjoyed our meals as they took our plates. With an increasing number of old banks turning into Wetherspoons or Tesco Express, it’s great to see that this one has taken a more independent route, instead providing a very welcome addition to Nottingham’s burgeoning African-Caribbean scene. Now we just need to work on the weather.