THE CRATE BREWERY AND PIZZERIA, HACKNEY WICK

"A jumble of residential, commercial and industrial activities."

Patrick Wright on Hackney

(A Journey Through the Ruins: The Last Days of London, 1991).

It is a funny old place, Hackney Wick, one of the few places down south, I suspect, where things are still manufactured. Here, there are working factories busy both day and night - fish smokers, printers, timber yards, etc. Arrive at night and it's somewhat eerie: dark streets punctuated by the floodlights of an industrial site; a few workers in flourescent jackets trudging to work on the night shift. The whole area is suffused by a surreal atmosphere lent mostly by the Olympic stadium looming on the horizon with a Speilberg quality (you know the film), and the canal whose dark, silent waters have concealed many a foul deed. 



But watch the surrounding streets more closely and you'll see wraith-like figures with portfolios under arms disappearing into loft apartments. As one friend muttered darkly to me recently, "Essex people are taking over Shoreditch - all the creatives are heading to Hackney Wick."  So far, so tribal.... 

Whatever the reason, the artists are moving in, and the area continues to exude the enterprising spirit of East London, old and new; creative workshops and new loft-style flats are springing up in rejuvenated industrial buildings that line Roach, Dace and Bream Roads.  And it is here you will find The Crate Brewery, a craft brewery set up last summer in an old industrial unit on the tow-path by the River Lea.

The Crate is a micro-brewery with a discerning East London clientele, turning out some 3,000 pints a week: Crate Lager, Golden Ale, Stout, Best Bitter and IPA, all are brewed and served on site.  These are pin sharp, nutty and malty. It also stocks a selection of bottled beer from other craft breweries in the UK and USA, as well as a short wine list for non-beer drinkers. 

You don't have to be a beer drinker to appreciate this place; it's a cool hang out  serving amazing pizzas with inventive toppings such as Sweet Potato, Stilton and Walnut; Middle-Eastern Lamb and  Sage and Truffle. 

Sweet Potato, Stilton and Walnut pizza

The Crate has been set up by a small group of locals and is very much a neighbourhood enterprise.  The simple industrial space is furnished with recycled materials from around Hackney Wick: the bar is constructed from railway sleepers, cushions are stuffed old grain sacks, and massive tables inside and outside the bar are built from other reclaimed wood. 

In short, The Crate epitomizes an industrial/artistic East London vibe which, along with nearby Hackney Pearl, makes it a popular meeting place for all the creatives who have migrated from Hoxton and Shoreditch.  

MUXIMA ART AND CULTURE CAFE, BOW

MUXIMA has now moved to a new and larger venue at the Olympic end of Roman Road. A new post will follow once it has bedded in.  However, in terms of style and ethos, it has changed very little!

It's easy to miss Muxima, tucked away between vast building projects, but if you find it, you do have that glorious feeling of stumbling upon a hidden place. Whether it's tumbling down the rabbit hole, opening the door to the secret garden or entering the wardrobe to Narnia, these hidden places hold sway over our imagination. It's much the same with cafes and restaurants, the more recherché the better; note the  popularity of secret cocktail bars like Nightjar or Lounge Bohemia; or supper clubs where the location is only revealed a few hours beforehand.

There's none of this tricksiness with Muxima but once inside you kind of feel you've passed through a portal; as you settle with your coffee at one of the hewn tables, the nearby A12 becomes just a dream. Occasionally there maybe some African musicians singing and strumming quietly in a corner or a jazz ensemble setting up for the evening. 

Artists gather to discuss their work and an exhibition is always on. Film nights draw an eclectic crowd to enjoy Blade Runner missions with Harrison Ford.

Muxima means  'heart' in Angolan and yes, it's full of warmth and bonhomie. Isaac, the softly spoken charismatic artist/proprietor has almost reinvented the artists' salon where people drop in to gossip, drink coffee and eat cake, and find respite from the hurly burly of East London life.

You can find Muxima at 111-121, Fairfield Road, Bow, E3.

BOUDIN SOURDOUGH - SAN FRANCISCO'S FINEST

"Fresh cracked crab with Boudin's round 'dark bake' sourdough

 and a well-chilled bottle of California Chardonnay is still the quintessential SF meal"

(Herb Caen)

Think sourdough UK-style: an artisan baker hidden away under railway arches in East London serving a small but enthusiastic clientele.  It's a different world in San Francisco, where Boudin (pronounced Boo - Deen)  has moved sourdough bread into the mainstream in ways that are unimaginable here.  In true USA fashion, it's as much about working the brand as kneading the dough.
The mission statement is loud and clear, and printed on the window of the massive downtown bakery / restaurant / museum located in the prime tourist location that is Fisherman's Wharf.

Boudin has been here from the start, even before California became part of the United States. The family arrived from France in 1849 at the start of the Gold Rush, marrying their French expertise as bakers with the local miners' sourdough leaven, a fusion of old European and pioneer American knowhow still obvious today in their sourdough baguettes.

The bakery has followed the vicissitudes of the city and nearly collapsed after the devastating earthquake and fires of 1906.  Louise Boudin scooped the mother dough (then a mere 50+ years old) into a bucket as she rushed out of the burning building, thus saving the business.  From these humble beginnings, Boudin has evolved into a modern high-output bakery that has entwined its image with that of San Francisco itself.  Now the ubiquitous clam chowder is best served, as in the image below, in a "bowl" made from a hollowed out sourdough loaf.

Boudin turns out sourdough loaves on an industrial scale to serve the city's hunger for its iconic loaf.  In addition, batches of the mother dough are sent around the country to offshoot bakeries, though these have to be renewed every two months as the lactobacillus that creates the SF taste begins to wane if away from the specific local flora and fauna that sustain it.

The look and flavour of the Boudin sourdough are distinctive, with an unusual dark orange-red surface that is quite heavily blistered. Initially, the crisp, chewy crust and soft, slightly waxy crumb are familiar enough; then that distinctive and powerful sour tang kicks in.  It is a taste that matches seafood and cheese especially well, but also works with just a slab of slightly salted butter and a bottle of Californian sparkling wine.

There are Boudin stores across the city as well as elsewhere in the states. "Entrepreneur" may be a French word, but there is something particularly American about the way this brand and product have been developed and positioned at the heart of San Franciscan consciousness.  You can find a Boudin cafe in Macy's (Union Square).

Macy's Boudin cafe

Or on Pier 39 (prime tourist territory).

The cafe on Pier 39, Fisherman's Wharf

Despite fellow travellers' mockery, you can pick up a loaf or two at the aiport to sustain you when you return home.

DISHOOM MOVES TO SHOREDITCH

The idea for Dishoom comes from the East, from the bustling Iranian coffee houses that were scattered across Bombay (as it then was) over a hundred years ago. Dishoom initially opened in Upper St Martin's Lane a couple of years ago. Now it has gone East again, to Shoreditch, to a new yet artfully distressed space on Boundary Street. It feels a bit ersatz, at first, if not quite the full Disney: chipped plaster; lots of battered Indian artifacts scattered around; dog-eared posters and sepia-tinged family photos on the walls; to say nothing of instructions to chai-wallahs, taxi-wallahs and others chalked on the carefully roughened, dirtied walls.  Ceiling fans rotate lazily as if to dispel pre-monsoon heat.

Even during the soft opening, though, there is a buzz about the place, with queues waiting in line at weekends. The original Bombay cafes were renowned for drawing in a wide cross-section of city folk to sit and chat or do business over a quick bite, and the same seems to be true here too: Indian families (multi-generational groups, many in sarees) rub shoulders with Hoxton hipsters and couples on first dates, or fans just back from the football.

Roomali Roti, Black Dall, Paneer Tikka and Raita

We are introduced to the menu by a very keen, Eastern European waiter, who explains it works a bit like Indian tapas: the cultural collisions begin to jar. Some odd "fusion" moments have also crept onto the menu itself: a section called Ruby Murray; dishes called Dishoom Slaw and Chilli-cheese on toast; nestling in the cocktail list are Chaijito and Bollybellini.

However, the food itself is a different matter. It starts well with impeccable Chai and salted Lassi.  The Lamb Boti Kabob is succulently well-cooked, the Raita and chef's Special Black Dall are both rich and sloppy, and the Paneer Tikka is crisp, juicy and very well spiced.  Reassuringly, there are also some real Mumbai favourites here as well: Keema Frankies, dribbling with lamb and chilli juice, and battered glass bottles of Thums up and Limca.  The highlight though is the delicate, lacy Roomali Roti, a wisp of bread just right for dipping, dunking, wiping or scooping.

The ceiling fan is still turning, seemingly bringing on the monsoon itself: it's now raining outside.

CARMELITE CAFE, BOW, E LONDON

Get thee to a nunnery. Oh, ok then, and I’ll have a cappuccino and a double chocolate brownie while I’m there. And perhaps one of those bagels, and a Nude Espresso.

The Carmelite Café is a long way from Elsinore, in a part of East London that may have been familiar to Shakespeare but one he would struggle to recognise now. (And no, that's a different Stratford.)

Bow has been the victim of some vicious urbanization; any romantic notions of cockney sparrows, Bow Bells and St Clements are dashed by the heavy tread of regeneration, the need for new housing and Tesco Metros. But do some exploration on foot and you’ll find clues to the past. The original Bow Church is still there, albeit surrounded on all sides by fast moving traffic, and St Clements stands in derelict splendour. The Bryant and May Match Factory, scene of Annie Besant’s matchgirl strike, has been sensitively restored. And the Carmelite Nunnery now houses Art galleries and this great little café. Bow’s history hasn’t vanished – it’s just kind of hiding.

Here we are in NoBow, just north of the Bow Road, in the London Artists Quarter, and a short slings and arrows shot from the Olympic site.  The reek of oilpaint wafts out from the studios that line the narrow alleyway leading to the Café, several advertising their wares by slapping old paint against the walls.

Small, unpretentious and dedicated to good homemade fare, The Carmelite is a quiet haven, and place to contemplate whilst also stocking up on carbs before plunging out into the rough and tumble of London life. Food for body and soul in a modern kind of way. The coffee is excellent and there is a good range of cakes, croissants, etc, to go with it.  High points are the zinging apricot jam (in colour and taste) and the rich, crumbly flapjacks.  The service is warm and friendly, and there's a genuine concern to see that everyone gets exactly what they want.  Nothing is too much trouble.

So Shakespeare obviously knew a thing or two about the best coffee places in London.  A shame Ophelia didn't heed Hamlet's excellent advice, but we will be back again soon.

196 WINE BAR, MILL ROAD, CAMBRIDGE

"His fashion is not to take knowledge of those that are beneath him in clothes. 

He never drinks below the salt."

Ben Jonson: Cynthia's Revels 1599.

There was a time when going "over the bridge" on Mill Road towards Romsey Town was a bit like dining "below the salt"  alongside the ordinary folk at the lower end of the master's table.  All that has changed and there is now a wide range of independent shops, bars and cafes flourishing here, in spite of the competition from the new, much-resisted Tescos.

The latest addition, 196 Wine Bar, has already picked up an enthusiastic following, in spite of its quiet, stealth-like opening a couple of months ago.

It has an interesting wine list (by glass or bottle) and the cocktails are generous in both size and colour - try the Strawberry Margarita. Of the three bottled beers on offer, the unusual San Francisco Liberty Ale is nutty and refreshing, a good discovery. Complementing the drinks are simple platters of charcuterie or cheese, with pints of prawns or smoked almonds for snacks.  These have been well-sourced and are far more than just a side-line to the wine and cocktails.

Unsurprisingly, the place is packed, especially the outside tables on these late summer evenings.  It will be just as welcoming and snug as the winter draws in.

BLACK SESAME SEED ICE CREAM

This unusual ice cream was devised by Lizzie at Hollow Legs as part of a recipe for Mochi: Chinese ice-cream balls encased in glutinous rice flour dough. I have been unable to master the rice mixture, ending up with rubbery lumps of dough and a snowstorm of cornflour. As straightforward ice cream, however, served with a little fresh fruit, this is fantastic, with its striking, dark grey colour and halva-like, sweet sesame flavour.

200ml   whipping cream

350mi   semi-skimmed milk

2          egg yolks

80g      sugar

7 tbs    black sesame seeds

1 tsp    vanilla

Toast the sesame seeds, watching carefully as they burn very easily; grind them finely.  Stir the ground seeds into the milk, then add the cream and heat to just below boiling point.  Stir in the vanilla and leave the cream mixture to cool for 30 minutes.

Whisk the egg yolks and the sugar until pale.  Stir a spoonful of the cooled cream mixture into the eggs, adding the rest in stages until it is all incorporated.  Put over a low heat and continue stirring until it thickens - do not let it boil or it will scramble.

Strain the mixture (although it works well unstrained, with a slightly earthier flavour).  Once the mixture has cooled, churn it in an ice-cream maker or freeze, stirring occasionally.