Experimental cooking: chicken and mushroom stroganoff

When I cook, I don't tend to follow recipes too closely. Baking, I follow the recipe to the letter - there is too much potential for things to go wrong otherwise- but cooking tends to be largely experimental.

So when I was left in charge of dinner and I  told my mum we were having [imagine the voice of Jean from Eastenders] "Sausage surprise ....the surprise being that there are no sausages", she looked a tad worried, but left me to it nonetheless.

 My plan was to attempt a chicken and mushroom stroganoff. I tried a creamy beef stroganoff once before, and although the flavour came out well the beef was too tough.

I began by cutting two chicken breasts into thin strips and frying them in oil on a low heat. A few minutes later I added sliced closed cup white mushrooms (a generous amount to allow for fry shrinkage), and began to add in double cream and white wine (approx. 2:1 ratio) and stirred. It's best to add a little liquid at a time and replenish slowly as it evaporates, rather than adding it all at once. I added a couple of teaspoonfuls of gravy granules- it sounds bizarre, but it's an old trick to add both flavour and colour- and a pinch of ground black pepper. I left this simmering on a medium heat for around 15 minutes, stirring near constantly to avoid the cream and wine separating, and meanwhile set the basmati rice on to cook. Finally I added some sweetcorn to the stroganoff and left it to simmer for a further couple of minutes before serving.

The final outcome was disappointingly bland. I realise that the sweetcorn was a strange choice, but whilst cooking it I felt that it needed a little extra something than just the mushrooms and chicken. Onions were considered, but the texture of onions combined with the texture of mushrooms is enough to set even the best pearly whites on edge. I also thought about peppers, but thought that would subtract from the creamy taste/texture I was going for and venture further into fruity territory. However, even with the addition of the sweetcorn, the final product needed salt and pepper to add some ooomph (ooomph, I've come to realise, is an essential ingredient to any meal). Perhaps using a different variety of mushroom such as a chestnut mushroom would have given a stronger undertaste. Even so, a herb of some sort would not have gone amiss. Lesson learned for next time!

JB's Diner, Brighton

Wandering aimlessly on a lazy day in Brighton with a friend recently, we had agreed to stick to our usual mantra of cheap and cheerful, reducing our food options down to two choices; Wetherspoons or Pizza Express (we had vouchers!).

Then wandering down a backstreet towards the seafront, we stumbled across a place called JBs. Initially thinking it was a typical seaside chip shop, we then realised it was an American Diner, and were both inexplicably drawn to it. Having a quick glance at the menu outside, the prices seemed reasonable, and we agreed that it was an option. Fast forward a couple of hours, and a few fairground rides and a couple of air hockey matches later, I was still thinking about the burgers on the menu, so we headed back to JBs, not too sure what to expect.

At around 5pm on a dull Tuesday afternoon, only about four tables were occupied, so we were seated and served immediately. The drinks menu, normally the easiest decision for someone as indecisive as me, provided the first hurdle; Dr Pepper as on the menu - one of my favourite drinks, but not usually available in restaurants. But then I saw one of the most exciting things I have ever seen listed on a menu- a Lucky Charms milkshake! I was seriously tempted, but at £5 a pop, it took some serious consideration, to the extent that I had to ask the waitress to return a few minutes later to take our drinks order. In the end, I decided against the idea of the Lucky Charms milkshake, purely based on the price (my heart was saying yes, but my head was telling me I could get almost a whole meal for that in Wetherspoons!).This is a regret that I will live with until my dying day, or at least until the next time I am in Brighton with money in my pocket.

Onto the food, and despite my thoughts of the burger which had drawn me back there, I went for the scampi, and my friend went for the Blues Brothers burger. The food arrived within about 15 minutes, although the episodes of Tom and Jerry being shown on the TVs made time go a lot faster, simultaneous reverting us to our childhoods and, in our exhausted states, causing us to laugh way more than two 20-somethings should have done at a children's cartoon. I wonder if today's children will still be laughing at Spongebob Squarepants when they're in their twenties?

I digress. The food arrived, and we were thoroughly impressed. The portion sizes were very generous (it felt like the fries were multiplying as I was eating them, in a relentless cycle). The side salad, with dressing, was delicious, and far more effort had gone into it than the usual limp lettuce leaves that are half-heartedly placed on the plate.

Stopping halfway through our epically sized meals, waiting for second wind to strike, gave us a chance to fully take in our surroundings. Decorated like a stereotypical American diner, t-shirts from films such as Back to the Future and Ghostbusters hung from the ceiling, whilst the walls were adorned with the usual film star posters, and car number plates and American road signs.  I was particularly enjoying the electronic Coca Cola sign with a countdown to the millennium clock, until I realised that although this felt like very recent history to me, the turn of the millennium had taken place before the children at the next table had even been born. In a quick act of emotional self preservation, my eyes reverted back to the episodes of Tom and Jerry still being shown on the TV screens, allowing me to go back to the innocence of childhood.

Although the food was delicious, the large portion sizes meant that we both left some food on the plates. At this point I was glad that I had not gone for the milkshake, which no doubt would have been even more filling. Although I was upset a not getting a chance to try the Key West Key Lime Pie (something which I have always wanted to try but never got round to), the food I had was more than adequate to sedate me.

The bill came to around £20 for the two meals and two drinks, an absolute bargain considering the quality and quantity of the food, and cementing my intention to return here next time I visit Brighton.

On the way out we noticed that there was a small retail kiosk selling other American memorabilia, however fears for our hastily dwindling finances prevented us from looking too closely.

Owing to my food induced comatose state, I forgot to take a photo when leaving the restaurant, but if you're even vaguely familiar with Brighton, it's pretty easy to find, situated on the seafront about halfway between the pier and the cinema. Alternatively, set your Lucky Charm radar to "milkshake" and you'll find it within seconds.

Party people: Nelly Shoes at Whisky Mist

The well-heeled fashionistas of London dusted off their party shoes last night, and despite the weather turned out in style to celebrate the launch of Nelly shoes in the UK.

The event was the culmination of a nationwide tour which saw Nelly shoes taking in the cobbled streets of Bristol, the seaside party town of Brighton and the spires of Oxford, among others.

The location was Whisky Mist, one of Mayfair's more indulgent hotspots, where the social elite come to wile away their time and part with their hard earned bucks. On this occasion though, it was less about the booze, all about the shoes.

Many were excited to see this highly coveted Swedish brand finally land in the UK, others were lured there by the promise of free shoes. Walking down the steps and into the venue, the cabinets of shoes on display told us we were in the right place; set up strategically ensuring a fine balance between luring us in far enough to want the shoes, but not handing them over then and there, leaving us wanting more.

 The result was a combination of excited shoe lovers, working themselves into a frenzy over which pair to opt for, and the calmer, more calculated attendees, who treated the choice of shoe so seriously, an onlooker could be forgiven for thinking the life of their first born child lay on the line. These were serious shoe addicts.

Attendees were also given well-received fashion goody bags, and a rather delicious strawberry cocktail, which served to get the social cogs turning and the conversation flowing, resulting in a successful event all round.

Welcome to the UK, Nelly. We're happy to have you.

Images courtesy of Felicity Main (@felicitymain)

My Yankophilia* continues....

If you've had a meander through my blog, you may have noticed that I am a fan of American food imports. This is not something I was aware of myself, save a penchant for Lucky Charms, until I started blogging. I became inspired by other blogs, such as the wonderful Gobble Monkey which has kept me entertanined for hours on end. It started with cereals, which, admittedly, the Americans do well (provided you don't mind sugar rot in your teeth come lunchtime.) Then, I rather impulsively tried the highly coveted Pop Tart resulting in disappointment and curiosity. More recently, I forayed further into the world of American confectionery, in the form of Hershey's Kisses. What a mistake to make.

As far as I can recall, I have never tried Hershey's chocolate before, but I've heard that it's not the nicest chocolate in the world. So when  I saw these in Selfridges in Manchester, I couldn't resist trying them to see whether the rumours are true.

They are.

The first disappointment was opening the pack to find a rather stingy six "kisses" at the bottom. Going on to eat them, things didn't improve- the chocolate was very sweet and sickly, similar to the cheaper brands of chocolate you get here in the UK. Suddenly I was understanding why there were only six sweets in the pack - anymore and you would have been sick. They lacked that moreishness that all true chocoholics can identify in a decently made piece of chocolate. For possibly the first time ever, I was eating chocolate and thinking "No more, no more".

I did, however, enjoy the texture of the cookie pieces embedded within the chocolate. I think I'll stick to Galaxy Cookie Crumble next time though.

Having reached the bottom of the packet, I was left mystified by one thing; why are they called "Kisses". They are not the shape of a kiss, nor the texture, nor the taste. Answers on a postcard please.

The Americans may do a fabulous job at cereals and hamburgers, but they should certainly leave chocolate to their European counterparts.

*Apologies if this term offends any Americans. Blame this.

Olympic fever hits York

In  case you've been living under a shell or similar, the Olympic torch has been doing its tour of the country over the past few weeks, and arrived in York on Tuesday. Although we didn't specifically set out to see it, my housemate and I had spent the day in town doing touristy things, so decided to extend our tourism to full blown patriotism (and, if we're being honest, needed to catch our breath back after climbing the Minster tower).

Although we had seen railings being set up around St. Helen's Square, we headed for Clifford's Tower and watched from there, as we figured it would be easiest to escape from the crowds and head home from here. The crowd was smaller than expected here, but the atmosphere was still great, and the weather certainly helped.

The firemen had put their resources to good use to ensure they got the best view! I wonder if they had to draw straws to decide who got to go to the top?

We could tell roughly where the procession was and when it was coming by the position of the helicopters overhead - we think one was Police and the other was BBC. One had been hovering for most of the afternoon over Museum Gardens.

Of course, the arrival of the actual torch was preceded by a large procession of Police and sponsored vehicles, to get the crowds warmed up. There was a gap of a few minutes between the start of the procession and the torch, in which time a few wayward cyclists on their way home from work managed to find themselves on the route. Some played up to it, giving a wave worthy of the Queen, whereas others looked as if they didn't know where they were or what was going on.

Predictably, a lot of the major sponsorship partners of the Olympics had floats in the procession.

Finally the torch itself came along. Unfortunately, we do not know who the torch bearer was when we saw it.

This was the best shot I got of the torch, due to the crowds. Very shiny!

Following the torch was a bus with all of the torch bearers who were carrying the torch in York, plus all of the "spare" torches. It was great to see the York Sport President Sam Asfahani, preparing to take his moment of pride as the torch headed back towards the race course, but unfortunately we didn't see Jacqui Meddings from Cosmopolitan magazine.

The crowds disperse around Clifford's Tower.

A fortnight of firsts

It's been a hectic few weeks, having finished all my exams and essays, and conseqeuently my degree (despite still barely feeling old enough to even be doing a degree, let alone finishing one). While it's a sad time with many things coming to an end (for example, I am handing over the Lifestyle Editor reins to the wonderful and talented Farrah Kelly), I'm still finding plenty of time to live my life (all the more for having been chained to the confines of the library for the past few months) and try plenty of new things. It's been a fortnight of firsts, as there are many things I have done for the first time.

I had my first ride on the Pepsi Max ride at Blackpool Pleasure Beach. Although it wasn't my first time in Blackpool, having visited with my family when I was about four, it was the first time I was big enough to go on most of the rides, and they didn't disappoint.

When my friend Steve* invited me to stay with him in Blackpool, I was a bit dubious, not normally being very good at the whole spontaneity thing, but spurred on by my new found freedom I agreed, and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made, resulting in this article. It was all going well until I experienced....

I also got to meet the Tetley man!!

The first time I nearly sank in quicksand. Leaving the Pleasure Beach on a wonderfully sunny afternoon, we decided to take a stroll on Blackpool's lovely sandy beach, and were having a great time paddling through all the shallow puddles, until we began to sink in one. Luckily we got out pretty quickly, but it was all a bit hairy for a second.




The week after I returned from Blackpool, the rest of my coursemates had their final deadline, so we made an inaugural trip to Betty's Tea Rooms. You may or may not have heard of Betty's - it's a semi-famous tearooms based in York, with prices best reserved for a special occasion. Personally I had never heard of it until I moved to York, but the hype around it and the queues I'd seen outside suggested it was worth a visit. As I explained in my article for The Yorker, it was massively overhyped. My second trip to Betty's followed in quick succession to the first, meaning that I am leaving York feeling like an absolute pro at this afternoon tea business.

Some of the linguistics crew enjoying Betty's finest offerings!

My friend Helen and I then went on to our first attempt at making rainbow cake, inspired by this recipe. Sadly, ours was not as bright and colourful as this one, but it tasted yummy (although was very heavy!)

Not as colourful as we'd hoped, but the decorations made up for it!

In a slightly less cake-based occasion, I attended my first hen night (not my hen night, you understand, the hen night of Caroline, now wife of Steve of Fixated On.) I was relieved to find it was a relatively tame experience (I won't say too much, in case the groom is reading this!!), but it resulted in me experiencing the wrong side of the bar for the first time (fear not, it was a cocktail making party - we were each taught how to make a cocktail of our choice. Cosmopolitan for me, naturally.)

A week later I went on to have my first experience of a stag night (yup, you read that right- and no, I'm not a stripper). Being a fairly unconventional groom (he wore trainers to his wedding!), Steve invited guys and girls to his stag do, a tame meal in a local pub, enjoyed by all.

This culminated in the first wedding I have been invited to as my own person (ie. rather than being invited along with my parents), and it all felt very grown up. Following weeks of high-street based trauma finding a suitable dress, it was a very enjoyable occasion. Unusually, instead of having a top table with close family, the bride and groom sat on a small table alone in the middle of the room, with all the other tables forming a circle round them- a great idea.

The wedding! Me with some of the closest friends
 I've made during my time in York!!

For now though, I'm just making the most of this free time, having a well-earned break before graduation and the real world kick in!


*Cheeky plug: Steve Gallacher of Trespasser Films, who you should definitely check out because they are awesome and their first feature film, Nothing Man, is due for release soon.

Toto's Italian, York

Anyone who frequents the number 4 bus route between York city centre and the university campus will have noticed Toto's Italian restaurant at some point. For me, it was back in first year, a whole two years ago. From the outside it looks quaint but quirky, and certainly characterful, and my inner foodie was instantly attracted. Finally, last night, I fulfilled the ambition of going.

Lasagne

 Walking in, the atmosphere hits you immediately, a feeling I imagine to be akin to walking into Mama Dolmio's kitchen. In the downstairs part of the restaurant, families dined alongside couples on dinner dates.  Going upstairs to the toilets later, a much nicer part of the restaurant awaited. Set in a fairy light bedecked conservatory, overlooking the city walls, it was the perfect setting for a romantic date (provided you could ignore the bizarre slideshow being projected onto one of the walls, showing photos of all things Italian from the Colosseum to a Vespa - y'know, in case you were unsure of the origins of the cuisine).

We were seated immediately and ordered our drinks, although eventually had to grab the waiter's attention to place our food orders.

Cannelonni

The cannelonni and lasagne which we had for our main courses were both delicious. Although the portions looked a bit stingy when served up, they turned out to be perfectly filling.

The returned Creme Brulee

Moving onto dessert, I ordered the tiramisu, which was disappointingly flavourless. My mum ordered the creme brulee, which she ended up returning because it was too cold to eat. After the waiter agreed to warm it up for her, he then returned to say that he couldn't, due to health and safety reasons.

The disappointing Tiramisu

 Conclusion:  A great ambience and setting, and delicious main course, but the desserts were disappointing (an understatement), and the service was slow.

In which I don't understand Americans

Wandering around one of these new generation old-fashioned-sweet-shop-cum-American-import-money makers, I came across Pop Tarts. I've never tried them, so, having resisted a Mango dress and a Gap trench coat, I decided to treat myself.

As I understand it, Americans eat these for breakfast. Not wanting to appear too keen, I settled for an 11am brunch. Opening the packet, this is not what I like my brunch to look like:

I've eaten fairy cakes with less icing. And what's that coloured stuff? It looks like someone, in attempt to legitimately be able to classify this as a breakfast item, has ground up some Froot Loops and sprinkled them on. Alas, they did not taste like Froot Loops.

Having done the whole toasting business (I am now an even firmer believer of the fact that the only thing that should ever go in a toaster is bread) I was stumped; unsure whether this was a cutlery or fingers type of food, I grabbed a fork and got stuck in.

The savoury pastry around the edge (dry and crumbly, but not in a good way) completely contrasted the sugar rush in the centre.

The strawberry "jam" tastes like the filling of a snack I used to have in primary school, Yum Tums. Yeah, remember them?!? Little bear shaped cakes with a strawberry or chocolate filling?  The difference being that Yum Tums (not to be confused with the horror that is a Yum Yum) tasted good.

Whilst I commend Americans on their application of sugar and e numbers to breakfast cereals, they should leave pastry to the Europeans.

In which I discover my feminine side...

Having been largely out of touch with the real world recently, my wardrobe was beginning to feel neglected. So, when I finally managed to escape the dreaded library, my first stop was the pub, then my second was the shops!

This playsuit was what I bought for my night out for my 21st birthday a few weeks ago. Having left things to the last minute as usual, I was forced to panic buy in New Look the day before. I grabbed an armful of vaguely appealing dresses and headed for the changing rooms, desperate to find something I even vaguely liked. When it came to trying this one on, I realised it was a playsuit. Anyone who is familiar with my issues with jumpsuits may understand why I almost put it straight back on the hanger without even trying it. But these were desperate times. Long story short, it fitted me better than any of the dresses I tried, and I had a cracking birthday night out in it.  I had a bit of trouble in finding suitable footwear - it's too short to wear full on heels, lest I wade into TOWIE territory, but a girl (especially a 5ft 1 girl) needs a good pair of shoes on her birthday, so I went with a pair of cream wedges. I love the shape, particularly the way it goes in at the waist, but is quite floaty from the hips downwards- feminine but versatile enough to be worn for smart or casual.

Following the birthday shopping trip, I didn't go near a clothing shop for a good few weeks due to exams. I've sure as heck made up for it now though! This dress is one of three dresses I've purchased in the last three days (and this is coming from a girl who lives in baggy jeans and hoodies!). It's definitely not my normal style, but in a post-exam haze of relaxation I was feeling the 'anything goes' vibe, and inspired by my recent foray into the playsuit world, I took the plunge. (The pattern is a retro ice cream pattern, which reminded me of the Jukebox print in the final Amy Winehouse for Fred Perry collection.

 This was my second new dress, and definitely my favourite! I got it from Help the Aged on Tonbridge High Street for £3.99, although it still has the original tags on. The belt that came with it (in the photo) is very plastic, so I will be looking for a new belt to go with it (the belt is definitely needed -without it I look even more top heavy). I've already got a couple of outings lined up for it- a hen do and The Yorker's end of year awards (orange is definitely a strong theme of the site!)

 The dress below was another charity shop bargain- also £3.99! The belt is one I added myself, athough  I can't help feel that the colour isn't right. I may have to find a brighter coloured belt to add a bit of colour to the outfit -any suggestions welcome.

Finally, I reverted back to my old ways and bought a pair of jeans. Anyone who has been jean shopping with me will tell you that I am a pain in the whatsits, so when I find a pair I like that fit satisfactorily (perfection went out of the window a long time ago) I have to buy them. These ones are very stretchy and soft, almost bordering into - dare I say it- jegging territory, but in my books, the zip and button define them as trousers rather than leggings, keeping me just the right side of the fashion law. 

Hanna (Wright, 2011)

This masterpiece somehow managed to escape my radar altogether when it was released last year, but I’m so glad I caught up with it.  Thrilling, gripping, at times chilling, it combines several well known styles to create something truly unique, a new genre where fairytale meets thriller and horror meets sci-fi.

The opening scene, set in a white wonderland that later transpires to be Russia, was an immediate turn-off, and turn off I would have done, had it not been for the large, piping hot, oven fresh pizza balancing on my knee. The film was presented as something from the fantasy fiction genre, an area I refuse to go near.

Yet 10 minutes later, things were looking up, with the introduction of some American hotshots (who, it later transpired, were actually in Morocco-the geographicality of the film was somewhat confusing), and the thriller part of the film began.

Beautifully written, and spectacularly acted, Saoirse Ronan, who plays the protagonist Hanna, deserves special recognition. She brings a certain je-ne-sais-quoi to her character, perfecting the portrayal of a girl who has been all but raised in the wild, yet maintaining enough humanity for the audience to be rooting for her throughout.  

Cinematographically, this is the best film in years. Beautifully lit, skillfully shot and framed, and the setting of part of the film in a dilapidated theme park was a stroke of pure genius, adding a touch of Burton to the film.

When the final credits rolled, I still hadn’t figured out who was the good guy and who was the bad guy, but I think that says more about me than the film. Somehow it didn’t matter.

No more comments will be made about the narrative, as it is hard to comment without giving too much away, and this is one film that is worth watching all the way through.

Anyone who is willing to put aside any questions of feasibility (the ease with which she escaped so many CIA agents, for one) will have an enjoyable and gripping hour and a half ahead of them.