Category Archives: England

Pho Viet, Bournemouth

I have been waiting for a while in hope that Vietnamese food is about to be the next big thing.

Every town, however small, would have a takeaway, and one could devour delicious noodle salads, bowls of pho and fresh summer rolls with ease. The food is often healthy, always delicious and there are enough crispy things available for treats.

There are the odd restaurants here and there, plus a cluster around Kingsland Road in London, but they are sadly far too rare.

When we decided to visit Bournemouth for a few days, I did my usual food research and was therefore thrilled to come across a restaurant called Pho Viet (976 Wimborne Road). I visited the website and drooled over the menu, sent the link onto H who was likewise afflicted, and he booked us a table.

noodle soup

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Stovell’s, Chobham

If two of you are attending a restaurant by car, one of you has to forgo alcohol.

I’m not a big drinker, as I’ve probably mentioned before. I don’t like the taste of alcohol, preferring apple juice to cider, fancy fizzy pop to champagne and milkshakes to White Russians. This makes me the natural designated driver, and while I’m always hopeful of something interesting yet non-alcoholic on the drinks menu, often as not there’s nothing that inspiring.

Therefore while H perused the amazing cocktail menu at Stovell’s (125 Windsor Road, Chobham), I was feeling a bit left out until I noticed on the menu it said to ask about soda, cordials etc. The incredibly helpful bar guy asked me what I liked, and I mentioned how the rhubarb puree in one of the cocktails had caught my eye. A few minutes later I was sipping a rhubarb, nettle, chocolate bitters and soda concoction, and feeling content.

This excellent start set the tone for the meal. After ordering, wonderful warm rolls with two types of butter (one smoked) arrived, accompanied by a pea shot and some interesting large crisps of different varieties, including parmesan and potato.

nibbles

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Food Analysis: Paladin Minuto

The average hot chocolate you get in the UK is pretty uninspiring. I mean, sure, it has a chocolate taste and is warmly comforting, but its lacklustre nature is undeniable, and it doesn’t matter how much whipped cream or marshmallows are piled on top.

I’m always in search of pure, intense hot chocolate. The kind you get if you make it yourself at home with real chocolate and milk (or even, eep, cream).

I’ve had a killer one in the renowned Angelina in Paris*; an excellent shot in Chocolat Chocolat, Cambridge; a dark and delicious 70% courtesy of Mink, Vancouver; and what I swear was just a cup of melted chocolate down in Brighton’s Bar Du Chocolat. However a particularly fond memory comes from a brief visit to Barcelona and assorted stops for chocolate and churros.

paladin minuto

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