An international taste of place? Delicious street food in the bone-chilling weather at Burrough Market yesterday, filled with fabulous artisan foods from the region, and all over the world, with international eaters peaking at each other’s finds to see what to have for lunch.
I chose the vegetarian Indian curry combo, with a dollop of yogurt, a dash of tamarind sauce, and a sprinkling of cilantro and onion. (Also the ubiquitous Mexican street food topping.) An outstanding melding of flavors, especially my beloved cauliflower, melting in my mouth, warming my body. (Tommy, Indian food freak, was so ecstatic that he was willing to eat standing up, rare for him.)
More Indian? A special shout out to Carey Marvin, my sister’s childhood pal, and her lovely hub for a wonderful night of chatter and Indian take-out from a joint called Holy Cow, topped off with a cool art studio tour. (Note her kickass dog-themed bathroom photo at the bottom of this post.) Our trio of London Indian meals ended Dishroom, which is styled after the old Iranian cafes of Bombay. Say yes to the deep, dark dal and the retro atmosphere, as well as their website blurb on how they source their sustainable foods.
But I digress. So back to old Burrough Market visit. (Cool history here.) We visited a second time not just for the food, but for a full market day with produce. Instead of the expected regional farmers’ market, the mostly gorgeous produce was from as far as Indonesia. So, local food fan that I am, I’m gonna visit the “New York style” producer-only farmers’ market on Sunday. I’ll let ya know. (Update near the bottom of this post.)
So I traipsed past the exotic produce and the world-class 
cheese shops, filled with many French cheeses, down the road to my kinda store, Neal’s Yard Dairy — shelves filled with aging cheeses, engaged staff, oodles of Brit cheeses. So last night we snacked on a brilliant Stilton and an aged goat cheese covered with ash, crusty bread and nice aged sausage with an unexpected twist of lemon zest. (Zest the vendor said “broke all the rules, yet worked. He was right.)
I wanted to write down cheese names, but I was too tourist tired. All this lovely meal needed was some local pears or apples, but I foolishly passed up the apples, as they didn’t look hard, and settled for some Dutch strawberries out of longing. Foolish me, I should have known better. (Oh, did I mention the wonderfully odd Swedish licorice fish, dusted with salt?)
Next stop, restaurant dining. Our budget slipped off the fine dining wagon years ago, but every once in a while we splurge. Here in London, it was at The Manor. The joint has an upscale rustic look — barnwood-siding and walls painted with elegant plant life, dark brown plates. (Maybe too dark.) The mood is youthened up with lively music, a hipster waitstaff and a graffiti intensive bathroom. (Continue below this picture.)
More important? The clean flavors of the vegetables popped, rather than simply existing as colorful shapes on the plate. Guess the farm to table tag is not a whim here. Though not a huge fan of food foam, I savored the frothy crab essence, and reached nirvana after eating the lightly smoked haddock with fresh sorrel and cultured cream, a generous gift form the kitchen. The food was contemporary and playful, with lots of yin yang flavors and sustainable concepts in full swing. (Suckling pig and neck meat too, using the whole animal oh so well.)
Update my search for a farmers market: There are plenty now. So I visited my neighborhood one in Islington. But this “New York” style farmers’ producer-only market was kinda a disappointing. Some good winter foods, excellent value added foods, like cheeses and sausages which the Brits are superb at, but the produce was considerably less appealing then presentation proud US markets. (So it was hard to tell what to buy.) Still, it was late in the day and, as you know, I always root for the farmer…. I’m sure it’s a great asset to the neighborhood….
