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Basking at Barr Al Jissah

Posted on 5 August 2022 by | 1 comment

A week at Shangri-La’s oasis in Oman

First published in the Sunday Times on 17/07

When I told my friends I was going to Oman they said to me: “wear the fox hat?”, or something to that phonetic effect.  It’s not unknown of course, but it’s not exactly on our local radar either, which is a shame, because, wow (!), what a place.  Sometimes you just know from the outset that you’ve arrived somewhere extraordinary, and that you’re destined for a special trip.  This was definitely, arrestingly, one of those occasions. The road from the airport to Barr al Jissah, my lodgings for what were to be seven glorious days, takes you through the capital Muscat, before presenting you with a point-blank display of the country’s unique, awe-inspiring geography – a rocky, mountainous desertscape that’ll remind fans of Luke Skywalker’s home planet in Star Wars.  I wanted a beach holiday with a difference; what I got was, in more ways than one, out-of-this-world.

Barr Al Jissah is freak of nature, even in its already freakishly beautiful context – an ochre peninsula that appears to have been hewn from great slabs of rock by a troupe of talented giants (in the absence of a more scientific explanation).  The land is owned in its entirety by prominent Omani Mohammed Al Zubair, having been gifted to him by the previous Sultan with the provision that it be employed to benefit the country’s development.  Sweet gig – sadly my questions about where I could sign up for this program went unanswered.  Anyhow, as a result (of that provision), the area has since 2006 accommodated the three hotels, operated by Shangri-La, that constitute the resort.   With their dramatic natural setting, their design inspired by the country’s traditional “fort architecture”, and their frankincense-scented interiors, an oil central to its heritage, they offered me a vividly sensory introduction to Oman.

There’s a particular cadence that I tend to adopt when holidaying at a resort.  Relax, exercise, drink moderately, eat immoderately (hence the exercise), sleep lots, and then repeat, with a few variations interspersed to avoid monotony.  In pursuit of this regimen I soon discovered the Piano Bar, with its generous schedule of happy hours, and its barman of deft skills and familiar accent.  Oman, he told me, may not be an established destination for South African tourists, but it’s popular with South African professionals looking for work in the hospitality industry – offering an attractive combination of great weather, a beautiful environment, and ample opportunities (i.e. much of what drew me here).  As if to prove the point, a second South African, the piano bar’s resident piano man, promptly appeared, tickling the ivories whilst I sat back and sipped a few Martinis.  Later in the trip, as I was diligently pursuing my vacation formula, I encountered yet another, a gym instructor this time.  A little bit of home when away from home is never a bad thing.

I was at Barr al Jissah in November, with the “winter” temperatures ranging from 21 degrees at night to a peak of 30 or thereabouts during the heat of the day, so absolutely perfect, and highly recommended.  The myriad pools and canals, and the long stretch of sea were refreshing, the al fresco dining pleasurable, and the sun warm and unwavering, but gentle enough.  It was a balmy bliss.  At the height of summer the mercury regularly climbs into the 40’s, which may get a tad uncomfortable.  That season’s drawcard though – the roundabouts to these temperature swings, so to speak – is the turtles, the peninsula being home to one of only five nesting sites in the country.  Visiting during the April to August hatching season affords you the opportunity to see, and even swim with, turtles close-up, a rare privilege.  So a tough choice I guess, but an upside in each case. 

In a resort of this calibre the highlights are many, massages in a private villa at the spa administered by expert Filipino therapists, to me always a barometer of quality, and the civilised pre-dinner drinks in the courtyard at Al Husn, the resort’s flagship hotel, being just two of what I got to enjoy.  There are some experiences though, necessarily exceptional, that are so magnificently and comprehensively enjoyable, so lacking in any kind of want, that describing them as mere highlights seems inadequate.  Climaxes might be more vigorously apt.  Such was the resort’s signature night at Sultanah restaurant – the climax of my stay, and needless to say a must-do.  Perched in the open air on a craggy ridge, cooled by the season’s evening breeze, with showstopping views of the sea and surrounds, it was as idyllic a setting for a meal as I could have imagined.  I sat at our table with my wife, realising as I took in the sounds of the accompanying jazz duo and the flavours of the free-flow Champagne, and as a surge of intense well-being threatened to overwhelm me, that I should drink as deeply of the moment as I possibly could.  I gave it my best shot, lingering over oysters, sashimi, lobster tagliatelle, grilled lobster, and tenderloin, our selections from a lavish barbeque buffet that had to be seen to be believed, before eventually, reluctantly, departing the scene, with both my appetite and spirits sated.  That night I slept the king-sized sleep of the utterly contented.

We cushioned our departure with a few days exploring the desert, overnighting on platforms amongst the dunes, the spectacular Wadi Shab, for a kloofing adventure, and Muscat proper, to which the resort gave us an easy springboard, and which further elevated the country in my esteem.  Oman, and indeed Barr al Jissah, may seem obscure to most South Africans, but sometimes you discover the greatest prizes in the most unthought-of places.  This is one of those finds.  Salaam alaikum.

THE ESSENTIALS

Language: Arabic is Oman’s official language, although English is widely spoken

Currency: the Omani Rial (OMR) is the national currency – nominally one of the most valuable in the world.  It trades at roughly ZAR40 to the OMR.

Visas: these can be procured online at http://www.evisa.rop.gov.om.  Note that visas for visits exceeding ten days are exponentially more expensive.

Getting there: Emirates operates regular flights to Dubai, from which multiple daily connections to Muscat are available.

Clothing: women should endeavour to dress with shoulders and knees covered in public spaces.

Getting around: hiring a car and making use of the excellent road network is a cost-effective, hassle-free option in a country where petrol is almost as cheap as water.

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Scottish for the weekend

Posted on 15 November 2021 by | 1 comment

First published in the Sunday Times on 14 November 2021

If there’s a country out there with more character than Scotland then it exists only in an alternate universe. In our world, the real world, the Scots take this cake and its crumbs as well, having cultivated a tapestry of rich traditions and endearing idiosyncrasies that are beyond beating — from their dress, and their food and drink, to their language and accents, and much in between.

If you’re not Scottish and have no Scottish connections, fear not; this is a hospitable place where anyone who’ll embrace their customs — as some friends and I did with the passion and gusto of pure-bred locals – can get to be satisfyingly Scots, for a little while at least.

It was February 2020, right before lockdown, and we set out with a basic, three-point plan: to revel in as much rugby, whisky, and Scottish cuisine as we responsibly could. As it turns out, I went somewhat overboard, eating so much haggis in particular that I thought I might turn into the wild beast from whence it comes (or at least from whence gullible Americans think it comes). Actually, the stuff is made from sheep’s heart, liver and lungs (known as pluck) and is delicious. It’s traditionally eaten with “neeps and tatties” (turnips and potatoes), but is increasingly deployed in more creative ways: combined with black pudding in sausages (a speciality of Stornoway in the Hebrides); as stuffing in Chicken Balmoral; doing a gourmet turn, again with its black pudding partner, in a “Dirty Apple Charlotte” (outstanding!), and at ease on the wrong side of the tracks in a “chippy” (which typically refers to a fish supper – fish and chips, but also to anything deep-fried and served with chips, haggis included).

We were pleasantly surprised by the vegetarian haggis served to us at Amber in Edinburgh, the highlight of its Taste of Scotland sample menu. This amidst stiff competition; the meal featured Cullen Skink (a soup of haddock, potatoes and leek), a trio of the local salmon, and fillet of Aberdeen Angus, a prime cut from the world famous Scottish breed. The list of Scotch delicacies is in fact so long and varied that it’s a wonder these laddies can fit into their kilts.

The rugby episode of our trip required us to fit into ours, so luckily it was scheduled first-up, before we’d gorge ourselves with haggis et al. I’ve attended all manner of rugby matches domestically, and my fair share abroad, yet they all paled in comparison to the simmering, high-voltage atmosphere of Scotland versus England at Murrayfield. The world’s oldest rugby rivalry, on our visit as it always does, trod a fine line between respect and animosity.

We joined a legion of Scots for the build-up at a nearby pub before disgorging into the streets for the procession to the stadium, a tartan army in high-spirits. Our little platoon was fortified en-route by a specially arranged flask of Johnnie Blue King George V — what a dram for the occasion, the complex arrangement of silky smoke, fruits and honey serving up a brilliant rendition of the national drink.

We arrived ready, in full voice, belting out Flower of Scotland with the best of them – following “Proud Edward’s Army” with the unscripted but obligatory (if you’re to be a true Scot): “wankers”.  The game itself was marred by atrocious weather and an unhappy result, but this was of no great consequence. We’d been through a gold-plated rite of passage and had been welcomed into a brotherhood. It was an experience to treasure.

The next day we began our pilgrimage to the Highlands, looking to appreciate (if you’ll excuse the euphemism) the country’s finest creation in its birthplace. The Speyside region, broadly the valley of the Spey River between Aberdeen and Inverness, is a whisky wonderland — you couldn’t toss a caber without hitting a distillery. We’d wound our way north by train, travelling through Dundee, a picturesque, richly historic city poised on the banks of the Firth of Tay, a massive estuary emptying into the North Sea, regretfully not having the time to stop and take its full measure.

The journey took us to Craigellachie (Craig-ella-kee) where we’d decided to spend the night so we could visit the eponymous, legendary, old-school distillery, and to lodge at its renowned hotel. I think of the Highlands as Scotland proper, the stuff reminiscent of Braveheart and Highlander, a rugged countryside replete with rivers and lochs and peaks, and colourful characters with broad accents. At a quaint pub, the Fiddichside Inn, on the fringes of the town, we got to know one such chap and his five unruly, but adorable hunting dogs, who took over the place without anyone batting an eyelid. That’s pretty much the style of things over there – it was simply marvellous!

Craigellachie’s whiskies are distinguished by their kiln-derived sulphury notes, with variations of sulphur, fruit and wax apparent in most expressions. It is probably the most distinctive and easily recognisable of the Speyside whiskies, so worth singling and seeking out on that basis alone.  We were privileged to sample the standard-bearing 13YO and the Rioja cask from the aptly named “Exceptional Cask Series” whilst standing on the banks of the Spey, drawing our water directly from the river like I imagined the locals would have done in earlier days.

Our home for the night was the Craigellachie Hotel, famous in whisky circles for its vast collection of the beverage, but appealing regardless as a quintessential representation of a Scottish country hotel, dishing up friendly service, ultra-comfortable accommodation, wholesome and hearty fare (i.e. more haggis), and an incomparable setting, including a view over the Spey onto the weirdly wonderful, subterranean Macallan distillery. The hospitality in the Highlands did not disappoint, not here, and not anywhere else.

We completed our brief sojourn in Craigellachie the next day with a Scottish breakfast inclusive of all the trimmings, and, after a polite interval, with a tasting of the distillery’s 31YO, a giant of quiet intensity that had won the World Whisky Awards best single malt title in 2017 – a special treat. I left wistfully, with the sense of having tapped into a vein of deep authenticity that seems increasingly rare in today’s world of big brands with tall stories.

Our final stop, heading back south for our return home, was Aberfeldy, known as the gateway to the Highlands. The route threaded us through some prime landscape studded with what is known in Scotland as Munros, peaks of over 3000 feet. Local enthusiasts participate in “Munro-bagging” i.e. summiting as many of the 282 total as possible. We didn’t have the space in this particular trip to indulge, but I made a mental note to bag at least one in the future, to further entrench my Scottish credentials, and just for the sheer joy of it.

Aberfeldy distillery should be a priority destination for any whisky tourist, given its proximity to the major centres and the sheer range of the distillery, which also serves as the Dewar’s brand home. From hot toddies alongside the burn, and the blending of our own expressions, to the distillery and museum tour, and the premium tastings in the dunnage warehouse, it was one of the fullest, most interesting whisky excursions that I’ve ever experienced.

I’m a longstanding Dewar’s fan, as is my father, and as was my grandmother, so this felt like the culmination of three generations’ enthusiasm. The tastings were nothing short of exceptional, a towering 40YO and a 1999 Single Cask in particular (both Aberfeldy’s); but my highlight was the straightforward comparison of two 12YO Dewar’s – a demonstration of the specific marrying process that sets Dewar’s apart from most other blended whiskies. The Dewar’s blends are “double aged”, basically left to settle and harmonise in oak casks for about six months after blending. It sounds great, the idea has always resonated in an abstract sense, but to tangibly experience the difference – we tasted against a single aged version that is commercially unavailable – proved the simple genius of the technique.

A trip can be just a trip, or – much more rewarding and meaningful – it can be a total immersion into a culture, and way of life. And it doesn’t take much to make the difference – just a bit of planning, being open to the experience, and in a place as welcoming as Scotland, the renting of a kilt. Slàinte Mhath!

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Don’t forget about the blends

Posted on 23 November 2020 by | Leave a comment

Overlooked and underesteemed, a strange curse of popularity

First published in Whisky Magazine South Africa (November 2020)

If you’re a whisky drinker it’s likely that the first and most recurring choice you’ve had to make on your journey is that between blend and single malt.  There are other styles of whisky of course – single pot stills, bourbon, and grains to name a few – but here in South Africa, and in most places, these are the two that predominate;  and of the two blends are the popular favourites, massively outweighing single malts.  There’s no little irony then in pleading their case.

The reality though is that whilst blends may dominate the box office, single malts are the indie darlings, garnering the lion’s share of critical acclaim.  The romance of whisky, its bucolic provenance, colourful history, and crafted production, is largely essential in single malts. 

Whiskies like Aberlour’s A’bunadh epitomise the appeal of the style: forged in distinct, numbered batches in the heart of Speyside in Scotland, perhaps the most renowned whisky region, replicated from an inadvertently discovered bottle dating back to 1898, and delivering deep, rich, impeccable sherry cask flavours, but with enough effervescence on the finish, at least in the batch (56) currently in market, to play short of the line where intense lapses into overpowering, this is an outstanding whisky in all respects.  With serious interest in whisky escalating in recent years, and with the proliferation of compelling specimens like the A’bunadh, the ballooning population of aficionados has increasingly been opting for single malts. Their potential, long either ignored or underemployed, is progressively being realised, recognised and appreciated, to the extent that the relative spend on single malts compared to blends is about three-fold higher now than it was twenty years ago – a staggering shift.  Single malts are a hot commodity.

Blends on the other hand owe their comparative scale (in general) to a substantial cost advantage, and to flavour profiles that tend to be light and accessible, rather than to any superior merit.  They’re by-and-large cheap, and easy to drink.  Many blends, if one was to be unkind, could be described as bland fodder for the undiscerning masses.  Its lesser exponents have somewhat tainted the style, with the result that it’s become perceived, often unconsciously, as uninspiring and second best.   

This is the backdrop against which you might find yourself unwittingly making your choices, but if you were to buy into and consistently act on these perceptions in isolation you’d be selling your whisky wonderment (to be poetic about it) woefully short.  It’s always worth re-examining assumptions, especially those that lead to ingrained, automatic, and detrimental prejudices.

A blended whisky is constituted from a variety of single malts (made from malted barley in a copper pot still), mixed with grain whisky (made from corn or wheat in a column still).  The grain, habitually maligned as a diluting filler, in fact introduces a few elements of potential “extra” value: a particular mouthfeel (typically an oiliness), its own specific flavours, and a distinct dynamic that changes how the malt flavours present themselves i.e. much as men behave differently around women, so does malt in the company of grain. 

The challenge lies in combining the selection and proportions of these various components into a whisky that’s more than the sum of its parts – the process known as blending.  Get it wrong and it’s forgettable.  Get it right and it can be something awe-inspiringly special – something on which you wouldn’t want to miss out.  One such whisky is Johnnie Walker Blue Label, a replete demonstration of the best possibilities of the style.  Oaky, spicy, peaty, and sweet, with an array of fruits, this whisky has drawn from an all-encompassing palette of flavours and somehow melded them into a harmonious, coherent and delicious whole.  Notably, it’s one of the first high-profile bottlings of a multi-vintage whisky, merging liquids of substantially different ages.  Whilst this is looked upon cynically in this “No Age Statement” era, Johnnie Blue is a well-intentioned, trail-blazing execution of the technique, achieving a real, indisputable synergy.

Another blend worth singling out is Jameson, the consistently fastest growing whiskey (it’s Irish hence the spelling, with single pot still playing the malt role) of the past twenty years.  The standard bottling is a marvel, but an upgrade gets you the ridiculously quaffable Select Reserve, a denser version with an injection of dark fruit flavours.  Perhaps the most compelling example of a blend’s appeal though is found in another Irish, Bushmill’s Black Bush: interesting, complex, rich, and, importantly for everyday drinking, affordable, amongst other charms.  You can look if you want but you won’t find a single malt that’s both similarly satisfying and easy on the pocket.

Whisky is set apart by its complexity and variety of flavour.  There’s arguably more to experience in single expression, and there are more different and distinct expressions, than with any other spirit.  This is partly inherent to the qualities of the liquid itself, but also brought by its evolution and momentum – more people demanding more.  Either way it wouldn’t be the case if it wasn’t for its great blends.  Something to ponder next time you’re ordering a drink or choosing a bottle.  May the dram be with you!

As it appeared: https://whiskymag.co.za/dont-forget-about-the-blends/

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Two days as a Tsar

Posted on 2 November 2019 by | Leave a comment

What to do with 48 hours in St. Petersburg

First published in Sawubona Magazine November 2019 edition

The holy grail of travel is the destination that delivers a big bang for a bargain.  St. Petersburg exemplifies this rare bird in all its splendour.  Moscow may dominate in scale and gravitas, but Russia’s second city thrives in its shadow, its beauty, legacy and charisma generating their own glittering light.  The grandeur of its days as the seat of an empire may be somewhat faded, but it’s re-emerging, and its reinvigorated and reimagined modern incarnation – in which electric bands busk on the boulevards – is every bit as compelling.  Here, now, you don’t need to earn like a Tsar to live like a Tsar…for a few days at least.

STAY

You may well choose to lodge in one of the city’s numerous grand hotels, a thrifty opportunity to lather yourself in bit of luxury, and indeed some of these may be worth a visit regardless, for “Tchaikovsky nights” at the Belmond as an example; however in a country where banyas (steams baths) are integral to the culture, a boutique hotel offering this facility makes for an authentic alternative.  Fitting the bill handsomely is the Rossi Hotel & Spa – long on olde-worlde charm, short on unnecessary posturing, it’s a quaint and intimate establishment, the type where the veteran doorman takes personal pride in extending hospitality and sharing his local knowledge. It’s conveniently located, satisfyingly comfortable, and unobtrusively atmospheric, with lavish spreads for breakfast, but its highlight though must be the spa itself.  If you like the idea of setting your day into gentle motion with an hour divided between the sauna and the (turbo powered!) jet pool, then this is just the place for you.

SEE

The priority when arriving in a new city should be to get the lay of the land, which in St. Petersburg, ironically, is best accomplished off the land.  Its network of canals, feeding in and out of the Neva, offers a magnificent vantage point from which to conduct a quick (or leisurely, as you would have it) exploration. There is a plethora of providers, routes, tours and formats – which can be overwhelming.  A specialist operator, such as Red Sun Tours, whose high-quality offerings range from customised private excursions to small group tours, might be a useful place to start making your arrangements.

Once orientated, the sight-seeing, as you’d expect for one of the great capitals of Western culture, is replete with possibilities, some of the most noteworthy being: the Hermitage, the world’s second largest art museum (after the Louvre), housed largely in the legendary Winter Palace, with its love-it-or-hate-it green pigmentation; the Peterhof, Peter the Great’s sprawling, keeping-up-with-the-joneses response to the Palace of Versailles; the Fabergé Museum, home to the largest private collection of the eponymous eggs and a palaceful of other exceptional  designware; and the Mariinsky Theatre, one of the iconic stages and spiritual homes of ballet.  This ball of string though is as long as you want it to be.

DINE

If the way to a traveller’s heart was through their stomach (probably the case for many of us), then St. Petersburg would be in for the win, hitting a trifecta of quality, variety and tradition.

The uber-cool Mansarda, boasting a mesmerising view onto the enormous gold plated dome of St. Isaac’s Cathedral, is a case in point, crafting a combination of classic dishes, including delicious renditions of local staples such as borsht and stroganoff, and modern fusion cuisine.  Its expansive menu is accompanied by an even broader 450-strong wine list stewarded by one of Russia’s top sommeliers, featuring the regular cast of course, but also exponents from more obscure regions such as Georgia, Hungary, Israel and Russia itself.  A singular dining experience!

Less flash, but every bit as delightful is Makaronniki, a trattoria that’ll have you questioning your location in the world.  In a field as dense and competitive as the purveying of Italian food, it’s a tall order to stand out, but stand-out it does…and then some.  The pesto focaccia, the tomato cappuccino with ricotta froth, and the pork stracotto with BBQ ice-cream in particular are of the highest calibre.  Throw in a rooftop courtyard, a well-considered Italo-centric drinks menu, and the most imaginative desserts you could hope to eat, and you’ve got a lock for your schedule.  “Buon appetito” has just been appropriated to Russian.

DRINK

If you’re in the market for a few mellow cocktails, you’ll be hard pressed to find better satisfaction than with Apotheke and its master barman – whose prodigious skill seems its reason for being.  There’s a chalked-up cocktail list, comprising both universal and house recipes, to guide your selecting, but Apotheke also subscribes to the entertaining trend of taking orders by flavour, with damn fine results.

SAVOUR

One of the great joys of travel is the prospect of sampling local traditions and local delicacies in situ, where they’re usually at their best.  Arguably this doesn’t get more exquisite than in Russia, the home of caviar.  A Tsar would simply order a kilogram of albino beluga, but for the rest of us St. Petersburg’s ArtCaviar presents an outstanding alternative.  This caviar boutique with its adjoining caviar inspired fine-dining restaurant offers the ideal setting for acquainting yourself with this delicacy.  The knowledgeable staff, whose passion and zeal are undoubtable, and the sublime culinary creations, witness pressed caviar in straciatella cheese with strawberries, expertly paired with Russian (or other) wines, make for an indelible experience.  When people advise you to spend your money on experiences rather than things, this is what they mean.

For those with a sweet tooth the Russian afternoon tea at the Astoria is a special treat.  The hotel has been host to some of the world’s most recognisable names, so a visit represents a chance to rub shoulders, and to linger in its aristocratic setting listening to live piano and enjoying Russian pastries such as pirosky (which is savoury), sguschenka, and medovik cake.   Go hungry.

MOVE

Ride hailing applications such as Bolt, Gett and Yandex make the best means for moving about in St. Petersburg.  Make sure you get yourself a Russian SIM card on arrival – it’s an essential requirement for accessing WIFI in most places.

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48 hours in Hong Kong

Posted on 22 July 2019 by | 3 comments

First published in Sawubona Magazine – July 2019 edition

Twenty years ago and before, at a time when an incursion into the Mainland was too forbidding for most, Hong Kong offered a précised and sanitised ‘Chinese experience’.  For travellers and traders alike it was a window to China.  This view of things is now a footnote in history, completely outdated, redundant: the world has shrunk and liberalised China is on our doorstep, readily accessible.  The territory’s days as a cheap destination are similarly long gone – the shopping’s still good, but don’t expect the fabled knock-down prices of the past, and as for the rest – food, accommodation, entertainment – you’ll by and large be paying top dollar.  But despite these changes, or maybe because of them, Hong Kong is a sexier and more rollicking ride than ever before.  Its essence, as a confluence of East and West, continues to define its course, but not in any cartoonish sense.  Instead it has evolved into an established hybrid, both reflective and independent of its progenitors – an inimitable, compelling amalgam of cool sophistication, warm hospitality, and vibrant energy.  The place just keeps raising its (gripping!) game.  For a visitor with a few days to fill there’s little to beat it.

Stay

Your lodgings can make or break a trip, so ensure the former with an astute selection.  You’ll struggle to find a better choice than the Island Shangri-La, the pre-eminent scion of a home-grown group, and the epitome of unpretentious refinement.  The typical benefits of a great hotel are superbly delivered – large rooms, lavish breakfasts, premium facilities, with the skyscraper-surrounded pool-deck a splendid highlight, especially in a city known for having more of them than any other in the world – but it’s with the finer touches that the hotel really excels: from the traditional welcome tea on arrival, beautifully presented in an insulated tea caddy, and the uber-comfortable mattresses and linen, developed by Simmon’s and Frette specifically for Shangri-La, to the day-of-the-week inscribed carpets in the lifts, and the L’Occitane and Acqua di Parma toiletries, they amplify the accommodation to an indulgent celebration.   The hotel houses eight restaurants on site, including the Michelin-starred Summer Palace, but it’s Restaurant Petrus that’s perhaps the star attraction.  Set on the 56th floor, in elegant, conducive surroundings (the ceiling frescoes and piano-accompanied strings live large), with breathtaking views over Victoria Harbour, the place offers classical fine dining, fine wining fare, but with just enough of an edge to stir the imagination.  Sample the green pea tart with yoghurt, meringue and coriander for dessert.

Island Shangri-La, Pacific Place, Supreme Court Rd, Central, Hong Kong

+852 2877 3838

Move

Taxis are plentiful and relatively affordable, but it’s often quicker and more convenient, especially when crossing from island to mainland and vice-versa, to use Hong Kong’s outstanding public transport system, one of the most effective and user-friendly worldwide, encompassing buses, trains, trams, and ferries.  The Octopus card, which you should definitely invest in on arrival, is probably the world’s leading fare collection and contactless smartcard payment system (and the model upon which London’s Oyster card was based), allows you to breeze on and off for the duration of your visit without worrying  about buying individual tickets.

See

Hong Kong is intense.  Visually spectacular, with a compact frame of sea, city, and mountain, and densely constituted, with its bustling population of enterprising people on the go, there is no shortage of things to see and do.  In geography there are some resonating parallels with Cape Town.  Victoria Peak, like Table Mountain, offers a spectacular vantage point from which to view and contemplate the city, and indeed the whole of Hong Kong Island on the walks around its circumference.  It’s accessible by foot for the fit and energetic, or otherwise by tram.  The Southern District, like our Southern Peninsula, is dotted with picturesque day-tripping towns – Aberdeen, Stanley and Repulse Bay notably – all easily accessible via the excellent public transport network.  Aberdeen in particular is something unique.  Historically the channel separating its settlements was home to a floating village of fisherfolk.  The boats remain, a ragtag but impressive fleet numbering in the hundreds and bearing testimony to this heritage, although fewer and fewer people still reside aboard permanently.  The area is also renowned for its cheap and cheerful fish ball noodles – test your chopsticks technique on the rendition at Nam Kee Noodle on Main Road.

 The Peak Tram Lower Terminus, Garden Road, Central, Hong Kong

+852 2522 0922

 Exchange Square Bus Terminus, Ground floor, Exchange Square, 8 Connaught Place,

Central (Bus 70 to Aberdeen, from Aberdeen Bus 73 to Stanley via Repulse Bay)

 Nam Kee Noodle, Shop 1-3, G/F, 208 Aberdeen Main Rd, Aberdeen

+852 2552 2731

 Drink

A dark passage, a nondescript staircase, and an unmarked door.  This is the low-key entranceway to Stockton, one of Hong Kong’s coolest bars – a pre-emptive measure maybe against intrusion by the roving bands of Jack the Lads from neighbouring Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s notorious party district.  Or other random arrivals.  If you’re not in the know, clearly you shouldn’t be here.  Named for Hunter Stockton Thompson, reporter, writer, reveller, the place is inspired by literary themes and influences, from its seasonal cocktail menu, the latest being a dive into Darwin’s On the Origin of Species (featuring drinks such as “The Berry Picker”), to its eclectic collection of vintage furniture and decorations, allusions to a private library or a reading room.  You get the sense that everything here has been well thought-out and deeply considered: it’s a place of substance for people of substance.  There are intimate crevices and alcoves, a thronging bar, a “secret” cigar den (known as the “Rake Room”), a discerning selection of fine liquors, a toilet with a two-way mirror (!!), and a menu featuring unusual delicacies like duck scotch eggs and cauliflower fritters.  Treat yourself to an exceptional Old Fashioned, hit repeat, and spend a rewarding evening at this superb, atmospheric venue.

Stockton, 32 Wyndham Street, Central, Hong Kong

+852 2898 3788

Eat

You can get the best of pretty much anything you want in Hong Kong, but it’s always a good idea to eat local.  The speciality here is Cantonese, the style of Chinese cuisine most internationally prevalent:  chow mein, sweet and sour pork, and dim sum being typical dishes. There’s a gaping chasm though between what you get at your local Chinese, and the finer exponents available in situ.  Duddell’s, an eatery-cum-art-gallery in the heart of Central on the island, gives you exactly that, the finer if not finest exponents of the style, but with a modern interpretation.  Their dim sum is off-the-scale, the scallop dumplings with caviar and asparagus good enough to break the gauge, whilst their use of non-traditional ingredients such as Wagyu beef and ibérico pork exemplifies Hong Kong’s flair and individuality.  Other highlights include the a double-boiled mushroom, bamboo and cabbage soup, shrimp spring rolls wrapped in rice sheets, a vegetarian ensemble of asparagus, mushrooms, lily buds and black truffles, and their signature chicken dish: marinated, air dried and then deep fried.  The best approach though might be to explore their unlimited Weekend Salon Brunch, with an option for free-flow Veuve.  Go hungry (and thirsty)!

Duddell’s, Level 3, Shanghai Tang Mansion, 1 Duddell Street, Central

+852 2525 9191

Over the bay, in Kowloon, you’ll find the pinnacle of an unpretentious, uniquely Hong Kongese speciality being served from a tiny, humble outlet.  Whilst the physical structure belies the presence of something special, the constant queues give it away.  Mammy Pancake serves egg waffles, a base batter of eggs, sugar, flour and evaporated milk, supplemented with various other ingredients, such as chocolate, peanut butter, and banana, according to taste, prepared on a waffle iron which moulds interconnected little pods (which you break off and eat by hand), and served in a brown bag.  Simple and delicious.  Try it as a breakfast snack, or at any time of the day.

Mammy Pancake, G/F, Carnarvon Mansion, 8-12 Carnarvon Road, Tsim Sha Tsui

 

As it appeared p1.
As it appeared p2.

 

 

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Fiddling with flavour

Posted on 19 November 2018 by | 2 comments

PATRICK LECLEZIO trains a straining spotlight on the invisible ingredients inside your drink.

First published on WineMag.co.za (November 2018).

If you’ve never encountered the term “bonificateur” you’re not alone.  Until last year I hadn’t, and I’d reckon the same goes for most.  Loosely translated from French as “good maker”, prompting the unfortunate inference that some sort of rectification is needed, it denotes a slug of additives introduced into brandy during blending, to influence its flavour or colour or both.  I’d long believed South African brandy to be made only from three ingredients: grapes, yeast, and water – and of course whatever it extracted from its casks during maturation, perhaps better defined as flavouring agents than ingredients – so this sudden edification made me question my convictions, about brandy and beyond.  My purist naiveté was in need of an overhaul.

Brandy casks

The dearth of available information is a telling place to start in weighing up the matter.  Bonificateurs have not been referenced on any packaging, in any promotional or educational materials I’ve come across – with the solitary exception of a fleeting mention in the official industry compendium “Fire Water”, nor during any brandy presentations I’ve attended.  They don’t even feature in the Van Ryn’s Advanced Brandy Course – described in some media as “the most thorough and sophisticated of its kind…” covering “…in-depth all the steps involved in brandy-making…”.  And by this absence I mean of the process and its existence, never mind any specific detail.  When I started with my enquiries one leading distiller told me that the practice was a “very, very sensitive matter “that was “kept as a secret by all manufacturers”.   I needed to get to the nerve centre for further insight.

In this pursuit I was privileged to be hosted recently by Johan Venter and Mare-Loe Prinsloo, Heads of Product and Brandy respectively at Distell (i.e. two leading heavyweights working for the country’s largest brandy producer), for a wide-ranging discussion on the matter during which I questioned if the industry might be hiding this process from consumers, by omission if not actively.  Despite a comprehensive denial, and despite an enjoyable and informative session, the disclosure went so far and no further.  When I asked for an indication of which of their brandies used bonificateurs and which didn’t, I was given some satisfaction on the latter, more on this later, but none on the former, other than being told that it was a minor percentage.  My impression was that they were concerned that this constituent would taint those products identified.  If I’m right then this would explain, if not justify, the perceived silence.

Before going any further I need to clarify, at the risk of being pedantic, that the use of additives, within certain parameters, is entirely legal.  Table 6 of the Liquor Products Act titled “SUBSTANCES WHICH MAY BE ADDED TO LIQUOR PRODUCTS” clearly regulates the practice.   I’ve summarised the additives for brandy in the following list (taken from the latest update of the Act, issued on 2/05/2014): bentonite, caramel, carbon dioxide, concentrated must, dessert wine (seemingly also encompassing fortified wine in practice), filtering aids of inert material, flavourants of vegetable origin or extracts thereof (prune and vanilla extracts being two examples), gelatine, honey, must, potassium ferro cyanide, silicasol, sugar of vegetable origin, tannin if it is not foreign to wine, water, and wood.

I should also stress that this practice is hardly limited to South African brandy.  The use of additives and flavourants is pronounced in many of the classic spirits.  Rum is maligned for its use of added sugars and colourants in particular.  Cognac and Armagnac prolifically use a substance called boise, an oak extract, to mimic additional maturation.  Canadian whisky allows an injection of other wines and spirits of up to 9.09% and in certain cases even more, depending on the nature of the deployment.  Scotch whisky often touts that it doesn’t allow any additives, other than flavourless caramel colouring, but in a sense this is hypocritical: it permits peat smoke, and bourbon, sherry, and all sorts of other wines and spirits to be imbued into its product during malting and maturation respectively, the latter in largely uncontrolled proportions; though, to be fair, whilst they’re not acknowledged as additives these flavouring agents are widely communicated to consumers.

That additives are allowable however, is not the issue.  They are – full stop.  The real questions are whether they’re desirable firstly, and whether their presence and use should be made (more) explicitly transparent.

Let’s tackle the last question first.  Yes!  Undisputedly and emphatically – yes.  There’s a real, growing thirst amongst modern consumers to be educated about their consumption, the denial or manipulation of which would be obstructive and disingenuous.   More importantly direct access to this information is a fundamental right underpinning our freedom.  We should be presented, without having to search for it, with the content and composition of any foodstuffs we consider buying and ingesting, because this awareness has an essential bearing on our ability to protect our health and our interests generally.  I have the right quite simply to know what’s in my drink – whether it’s because of potential allergens, or because I may, for instance, be inclined to pay more for conventionally matured than boise-augmented cognac.

Unfortunately when it comes to alcohol the letter of the law is yet to catch up to its spirit.  Whilst it’s legally required of most foodstuffs, liquor is exempt from having to disclose a list of ingredients (or, quite incredibly, even the presence of “foreign” matter), for seemingly unfathomable reasons.    It may be challenging to consistently define certain elements, such as those deriving from the oak – although the exemption applies to most liquor, whether cask matured or not – but it’s clearly not impossible: the European Commission stated in a March 2017 report that “objective grounds have not been identified that would justify the absence of information on ingredients and nutritional information on alcoholic beverages or a differentiated treatment for some alcoholic beverages”.  The report concludes that change to this effect is imminent.  In fact it is already mandatory to display consumer information about calories, additives, vitamins and microelements on the labels of spirits containers in 13 member states of the EU.

When I questioned an official at our local Department of Agriculture on the topic I was given this response:  “At the moment this is optional, you can indicate the ingredients on the label but it is not compulsive (sic).  The reason for this is that there is not yet any international guideline or requirement for wine or other liquor products.  South African legislation follows international requirements to make sure that we stay up to date, that our labels still complies with the requirements of the overseas countries when we export … If it should become an international requirement to indicate the ingredients on a label, the Liquor Products Act, Act 60 of 1989, will be amended accordingly.”  So whilst the industry has been remiss in respecting our right to this information of its own accord, it ostensibly will to be forced to do so in the medium term.   Good news!  How everyone’s going to react to the sudden appearance of all sorts of unexpected things in their drinks is another matter.

Once transparency is assured, the debate then becomes about whether an allowance for additives is of benefit or detriment: a thorny and complicated matter to unpack.  There is no right or wrong in my opinion, there are only varying perspectives.  One perspective is that if it’s able to contribute positively to flavour, with a result improving what it would otherwise have been, then it must be of benefit.  Another contrasting perspective is that it masks inadequacies, and fosters low standards.  Johan Venter voiced Distell’s brandy-making philosophy as endeavouring to get things right from the start rather than correcting mistakes at the end.  The existence of this recourse though – for any spirit, not just brandy – provokes the exact opposite motivation: you can bet that any short-cuts on offer will be exploited by less principled producers.  The knowledge that shortfalls can be corrected may limit ambition, or may engender the wrong kind of ambition.  Further perspectives concern identity and purity.   Additives introduce the potential for widely varying flavours, narrowing the boundary between diversity, which we want, and divergence, which we don’t.  When I buy yoghurt (read brandy), I want something that tastes and feels like yoghurt, not like milk or cream (read grappa or pisco).  It gives me the context in which I can root and understand my appreciation.  South African brandy regulates its additives precisely, sufficiently one would hope to preclude this risk, but it may not be the case elsewhere.  Canadian whisky’s only real limit to the extent to which permitted additives can be used is a clause stipulating that it should have an “aroma, taste and character generally attributed to Canadian whisky” i.e. it depends on an organoleptic evaluation, which can’t be objective or consistent.

During my meeting at Distell, I was given five brandies to nose and taste: Flight of the Fish Eagle, the potstill component from Klipdrift Premium, Oude Meester 12YO, Van Ryn’s 12YO unfiltered, and a Van Ryn’s 47YO, none of which employ bonificateurs, the intention being to show me these aren’t necessary to make great brandies.  If I needed any convincing, then this did the trick in spades, the experience of the two Van Ryn’s being a particular privilege.  The 12YO is not available for purchase unfiltered, which is a shame, its usual bold fruity flavours being amplified to gigantic, and the 47YO, an intense, dead-in-your-tracks eruption of  nuanced complexity, is not marketed at all…yet.  I had not long before also tasted the Van Ryn’s 27YO, a big, boisterous, irresistible hug of toasted oak and dried fruit, which was also confirmed additive-free.   A pattern was beginning to emerge – from these Distell learnings and from elsewhere.  Potstill brandies and more mature brandies typically don’t use bonificateurs.  When I asked Johan Venter if he wished this allowance didn’t exist, his response was “horses for courses”.  Whilst it’s a deduction supported by constrained information – I’m entirely aware that I haven’t tasted this Pierian spring – it makes sense that these horses would be most needed on courses where the muscle of pot distillation and maturation is inhibited i.e. blended brandies.

VR27YO

The best will always be the best, and with additives, in some cases like Scotch (and its flavouring agents), maybe even more so. There’s also no doubt that our best brandies are exceptional.  The additives allowance – on the face of all available evidence – has not been necessary for this splendid outcome.  It may be the case however that the worst may be worse than would have been the case.  Like my hosts at Distell I personally don’t like the idea of papering over cracks that shouldn’t be there in the first place.  Equally, it may mean that pleasant brandies are available to us more cost effectively than would otherwise be possible.  You’ll have to take your own perspective.  One thing’s for sure though – most of my misgivings would be decisively expunged if (and will be when) the curtain is drawn back just a little further.

As it appeared: http://www.winemag.co.za/patrick-leclezio-how-widely-are-flavouring-agents-being-used-in-your-brandy/

 

 

 

 

 

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Get with the JET SET

Posted on 30 April 2018 by | Leave a comment

The formula for travelling with ease and poise

The golden age of travel may long be over, but there’s no reason why those of us on the move can’t emulate the élan of our predecessors.  All it takes is a few grains of insight and a spot of preparation…conveniently supplied by THE INDY’s three step guide.

Step 1: Before you go

The first step is also the most vital.  Your baggage needs to stay within that shifting, easily shot line at which enough lapses into overloaded.   The trick to transitioning is to remain as unencumbered and unburdened as is reasonable.

If it’s going in the hold it’s got to be bold.  You’ll need something tough, functional and protective, but also inexpensive – don’t fork over for a piece that’s going to be punished.

THE INDY suggests: Think Travelite rather than Louis Vuitton.  Hard shells only – you may be wanting to return with a fragile bottle of that hard-to-find Japanese whisky.  Quality wheels are important – reserve your energy for walking the Champs Elysees not for pulling a recalcitrant case through CDG airport.  Built-in locks – your bag should be the only thing carrying your stuff.

On shorter trips take a cabin case so that you can glide past without breaking stride whilst others congregate like cattle at the conveyor belt.  Efficiency is of the essence.

THE INDY suggests: The Victrinox Spectra is light, robust and impeccably-engineered – and if not licenced then at least dressed to kill, in its cool, matt carapace.  You could take it to a black-tie dinner without anyone blinking.

Does anyone travel anywhere without their laptop these days?  You’d likely feel naked without it.  Your laptop will need a bag – one that’s able to accommodate a few other necessities as well: notebook, e-reader, cables, passport, and the like.  Ensure that this bag includes a padded shoulder-strap and a pass-through to slip it over the handle of your suitcase – you’ll want to set out with your sword hand hand free.

THE INDY suggests: Thule is best known for its exceptional roof racks, but it puts out a mean set of bags as well.  The Subterra 15” hits the sweet spot with its travel-busting, rugged outer skin, its chamois-lined sunglasses pouch (one of a multitude of convenient pockets and pouches), and its slick well-thought out design.

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Clutter is the enemy, but there are those bits and pieces that you ignore at your peril.  Get adaptors before you go – our local plugs are virtually unique (the odd Indian socket notwithstanding).  And remember the travel restriction on liquids – you’ll need to decant these into small containers.

THE INDY suggests: The chaps at GO Design specialise in travel accessories.  They’ve got those adaptors and bottles, and pretty much every travel related item that you can imagine.

Step 2: In transit

Comfort is king.  The flights and the in-between flights will set the tone for your trip.  Time away is premium priced, so you’ll want to get to the other side well-rested, relaxed, feeling fresh and ready to seize the day.

The single most important influence in accomplishing this objective is your choice amongst airlines, which are not all created equal.  Some offer more than others – whether it be in terms of space, coverage, catering, entertainment, amenities, and ground support.  Pick wisely.

THE INDY suggests:  Emirates has become, in a very short space of time, the world’s second largest conventional, international airline.  With good reason.  It is industry leading in almost all respects,  from its fabulous footprint numbering 150 odd destinations, its consistently razor-sharp pricing, and its fleet of modern aircraft, to the bars on its cavernous A380’s, the chauffeur-drive to and from the airport, the free in-flight internet, and the complimentary meal vouchers and hotel rooms for extended layovers.  It is virtually unrivalled.  Whether in economy, business or first – and we tested each cabin, and the accompanying lounges, on a recent trip to make sure – you’ll get unsurpassable bang for your buck.

When you’re stuck in a seat for hours, the boredom pinning you fast on all sides, you’ll be desperate for some reprieve.  On most airlines the entertainment system offers a double-edged surprise: pleasant in that the options of movies and shows are plentiful, nasty in that the headphones with which to listen in are disappointing – ranging from diabolically bad in economy, to mediocre in business and first.  BYO good people.   And don’t forget the adaptor.

THE INDY suggests:  Go in-ear – remember the golden rule: unencumbered and unburdened, and noise cancelling – an aircraft is droningly loud.  Which bring us to the Bose Quiet Comfort 20, unanimously (to the best of our knowledge) rated by credible reviewers as the best in-ear, noise cancelling headphones in the world.  You’ll not look back.

Quiet_Comfort_20_001_black_HR

At some 40 000 feet you have limited hierarchy of concerns.  You want to avoid plummeting from the sky.  You want to be fed.   You want access to a lavatory.  Your most pressing needs assured, you’ll move on to entertainment – as already covered.  That leaves sleep.  Glorious sleep.  You can best beckon the sandman, frustratingly elusive on an airliner, by properly equipping yourself with earplugs, eye shades, and a travel pillow.

THE INDY suggests:  With products based on NASA cushioning technology, Tempur has been at the forefront in foam, the material of choice for your sleep inducing requirements, for decades.  They offer the typical travel “doughnut”, but this works for some and not for others, and it’s useless in the upper cabin classes.  You’ll sleep tightest with our hands-down favourite: the slumberous, travel-sized version of their standard erganomic pillow.  Tempur also supplies eye shades – which are soft, comfortable, and easy on the eyelids.

Step 3: At your destination

Whether you’re travelling for work or pleasure you’ll want to be primed for action – looking good, and feeling confident.  Don’t leave these things in the lap of the gods.  It pays to be prepared.

At THE INDY we believe that one should always be impeccably turned out, presenting oneself to the world to the best possible effect.  To make this happen on your travels you’ll need to have your grooming essentials securely packed and conveniently accessible.

THE INDY suggests:  Tumi’s ballistic-nylon luggage has become iconic amongst die-hard travellers, and it includes a range that represents something of a zenith in toiletry kits.  Check out the Hanging Travel Kit for extended voyages and the Split Travel Kit for shorter sojourns; both sport a well-organised, stylish layout, and an aura of rugged invincibility.

22191D2_alt1

You can’t be carrying everything that you could conceivably need, but if your destination is prone to precipitation, then you’d be well advised to sacrifice space for a brolly.  You’ll be wanting after all to maintain a crisp comportment in any given set of conditions.

THE INDY suggests:  The Blunt XS_Metro is a compact umbrella that’s slightly overgrown its class, but what it costs in size, it repays tenfold in strength and build quality.  Rain has the nasty habit of running with wind, the mortal enemy of most umbrellas.  Not of this one though.   As a bonus it’s available in an array of funky colours.

BLUNT UMBRELLAS(PAGE 49)

You’re walking about sightseeing, folding and unfolding one of those damned hotel maps, clueless tourist written all over your face.  What do you do?  Your historic predecessors would have hired a cicerone, but that time has passed and you wouldn’t want a stranger harshing your vibe anyhow.

THE INDY suggests:  Ulmon’s CityMaps2Go app offer interactive, easy-to-use, offline maps (no roaming required, it works using GPS) for most of the world’s major cities.  You’ll stay so effortlessly orientated, and informed – with its photos and insider tips – that you might even be mistaken for a local.

Final tips:

–              Pack your clothing rolled.  It’s amazing how much more you can fit using this format.

–              Check-in online and download your boarding pass.  You’ll get your choice of seating, and you’ll avoid those long, dispiriting queues on arrival at the airport.

–              If you don’t have frequent traveller status, review your banking package for lounge access privileges.

–              Travelling across time zones wreaks havoc on your internal body clock (the so-called “jet lag”).  Speak to your doctor about supplementing with the natural hormone melatonin to assist with the adjustment.

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Feasting in paradise

Posted on 26 February 2018 by | Leave a comment

An insider’s guide to the best-loved foods of Mauritius

First published in the Sunday Times (25/02/18).

You’ll eat and drink well in Mauritius whether or not you read this article.  It’s one of those places where it’s impossible not to.  The melding of a rich history, diverse cultures, obliging natural resources, and slick hospitality have contrived to make great food a virtual inevitability.  This island is endowed with a special culinary proficiency, one amongst the many charms which have been vital in making it such an appealing destination.  The stuff that you’ll find on the surface however – the half-board buffets, the occasional stop at a street stall, and the internet-guided restaurant selections – will only take you so palate-pleasingly far.  There’s the good, and then there’s the exceptional – the gems that need to be unearthed, like a truffle by a cultivated hog.  Whilst I hesitate to liken myself to a pig – others may not be as reluctant – I have a certain voracity for and knowledge of the island’s foodstuffs, which may be useful to you, the discerningly hungry visitor.  In the interests of full disclosure though, given that you’re about to invest some time, I should mention that I recently convinced a group of visitors to Mauritius, whilst we were taking drinks on a terrace overlooking the ruins in Balaclava, that the mask of the same name had its origins in the ritual headgear of monks who inhabited these structures in the early eighteenth century.  Don’t let this deter you.  I’m more serious when it comes to food.

Mauritius has a population that is majority of Indian descent, so it’s no surprise that their influence is pervasive in its cuisine.  My particular favourites are the flatbreads, and of course the curries.   Whilst these exponents have been carried far and wide by the Indian diaspora, there are variations that are if-not-unique-to then well-honed on the island.  The paratahs (or rotis / faratas, as you would have it), a great Indian staple, are here in force, but it’s to the dhal puri that you should dedicate particular attention.  Made from dough containing split pulses, which cooks to a flaky consistency, and typically served with chilli, pickles or sometimes curry, it is only commonly available in Mauritius (although a distinct style has manifest itself in the Caribbean).  The dhal puri is the ultimate snack (or indeed meal!):  displaced Mauritians, like myself, are known to habitually order towering stacks during our visits, which we’ll then freeze and take back with us, such is its delectability.   They are widely available at street stalls but the most reputed, sought-after dhal puris are probably those from Dewa, located in the big Bagatelle mall in Moka.  Another interesting flatbread worth trying is the ti poori.  This is effectively the Indian deep-fried puri, but served in Mauritius with a mix-and-match selection of local dishes, such as rougaille (a tomato-based stew of many varieties), bredes songes (Mauritian water cress), achard de legumes (pickled vegetables) and bringelles au miel (honeyed eggplant), as well as the obligatory curries.  It’s best procured from a specialist caterer like Modley (+230 5796 5084), for a long, lingering, gregarious lunch on a verandah overlooking the ocean.

ti poori

Moving from flatbreads to their ostensible fillings, two indelibly Mauritian curries that’ll reward the seeking out and then some are the curry de cerfs (venison), and the curry d’homard (lobster).   The former is tied into the earliest recorded history of the island, when the original Dutch settlers introduced Java deer – populations of which have persisted over the centuries, considerably outlasting their masters.  It’s not easy to find on a menu, the supply of deer meat being irregular, but stay on the lookout, and if you’re in a villa get your housekeeper on the job – spicy and gamey make a heady mix of flavours.   The latter’s finest purveyor is the unassuming but outstanding Chez Rosy in Souillac in the south.  There are members of my family who are unable to mention this place and its lobster curry without visibly salivating.

If you’ve ever eaten and enjoyed madumbis (or even if you haven’t), then Mauritius has a special treat in store for you.  One of the local taro yams, the arouille violette, is closely related (but markedly superior), and makes the most delicious mash that you could hope to taste, knocking the socks off the potato version.  They’re available from most vegetable markets on the island, and are best appreciated in combination with a meat dish.

arouille violette

Another exotic item of Mauritian produce is the highly nutritious tamarind fruit, the dark sticky pulp of which is used to produce juice, pickles, preserves, and chutneys.   Most people describe its flavour as sweet, tangy and tart, but I find it musky as well – it’s quite unique.  Les Vergers de Labourdonnais offers an outstanding, brilliantly refreshing tamarind juice (distributed to most of the major supermarkets), which might be the most convenient and accessible means to sample this unusual fruit.

Tamarin juice

The arouille and the tamarind fruit, of all the victuals of my childhood, live largest in my memory, along perhaps with the punch mariage, an iced concoction of rum, lemon juice, sugar, water and egg white, traditionally served at Mauritian weddings.  I’ve remembered it well not because it was regular fare for me, despite the relaxed European-leaning Mauritian attitude to liquor for children, but for one striking occasion in particular:  my younger brother at the tender age of four, unobserved during a function, got stuck into a bowl of this punch, with unfortunate, albeit hilarious results…if I might be allowed to find a sauced infant hilarious.  He clearly found it delicious.  It is delicious.  Punch mariage can be sourced by order only from Nathalie Maurel (+230 5257 2172), considered to be the island’s foremost expert.  I’d recommend that you request it to be made with New Grove’s Plantation Rum, one of the best of the white Mauritian  rums.

As one would expect from the “pearl of the Indian ocean” fish and fruits de mer are integral to the culinary life of the island.  Whether it’s bistro fare at a place like Hidden Reef in Pointe aux Cannoniers, or fine dining at Jacqueline Dalais’ (the Mauritian Heston Blumenthal) La Clef des Champs in Floréal or the more touristy but nonetheless enchanting Château Mon Désir in Turtle Bay, the best dishes are likely to be seafood based.  A trip to Mauritius is an opportunity – which you should seize with both hands – to partake of this natural bounty.   There are two fish in particular that are spoken of in hallowed tones by those with deep roots on the island: Sacré Chien and Gueule Pavée.  They’re less abundant today although they do appear in restaurants here and there.  You may be most likely to strike it lucky with a trip to the Débarcadère de Grand Baie, the jetty for the town’s fishing boats, an interesting excursion regardless, and if you don’t you can also opt for delightful alternatives such as Vielle Rouge and Capitaine.   Mauritian waters, and consequently tables, are replete not only in fish, but also in octopi, crabs, oysters, mussels, lobsters, prawns, scallops and the like, but the most iconic of the island’s dishes hinges on a combination of its aquatic and terranean resources.  Make it your particular mission to track down and savour palmiste with crevettes or camarons, the  succulent heart of a palm tree, served with prawns, typically in a red sauce, and prepared in a variety of ways;  Curepipe landmark La Potinière has a souffléd version which is especially noteworthy.

I’ve left the sweets, one might say the best, for last – last but not least, because for nation built on sugar, the expectations excited by its confectionaries, patisseries and desserts, which won’t be disappointed, quite the opposite, should rightly be at the front of the queue, and fervent.  There are so many stops on this glorious journey – some prime examples ranging from sucre d’orges, a twirly hand-made rock candy fashioned by the religious sisters on the island, and papaye tapée, rich, juicy slabs of candied fruit contributed by the Chinese-Mauritian community, to puits d’amours, an egg custard tart perfected by the Patisserie Marimootoo in Curepipe, and the genoise au coco, a coconut cake so good that you’d be tempted to sell your soul for a slice– that the end will always be another trip away.  The pinnacle though, the cherry on the top of this massive Mauritian mountain of mastication, must surely be the napolitain.  Whilst its origins are unknown, lost to the mists of time, one thing is certain: the napolitain is indubitably, exclusively, and comprehensively Mauritian – it is not found anywhere else, unless transplanted by Mauritians.   Made with two shortbread style biscuits sandwiching guava jelly (classically, although other jams are also used), and then covered with pink icing, this melt-in-your-mouth delicacy exhibits flavours so extraordinarily  complementary that one might say they are fated to be fêted.  The crème de la crème are those made by Patricia de Speville (+230 5788 3331) according to an old family recipe at her bakery in Tamarin and sold under the name Pat’s Cookies in various outlets all over the island.

napolitains & puits d'amours

Napolitains and puits d’amours

Mauritius, as you’ll be realising by now, but as you’ll only truly appreciate when you sink your teeth into it, offers much, much more than sandy beaches, sunny skies, and sapphire oceans.  That it’s a gastronomic paradise as well is one amongst its many other dimensions.  Enjoy your trip – and bon appetit!

Sunday Times mauritius

As it appeared.

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One night in Budapest

Posted on 2 January 2018 by | Leave a comment

First published in Marie Claire (December 2017 edition).

The long nights of the European winter, if my delving into its extents is to serve as any indication, are perhaps at their longest in Budapest.   I’m not proposing that accolade for the time from dusk till dawn – clearly it’s trumped in this regard by the large continental swathe that enjoys a latitudinal advantage – but instead for the other more compelling (if less scientific) measure of a night’s duration: the time from dress till duvet.  On this score other contenders would be hard-pressed to compete such is the allure and volume of its nocturnal charms, evidenced during my visit.  I wanted to eat and drink fine things.  I wanted an excursion that straddled storybook romance and rampant revelry.  I wanted to suck out all the marrow, but without paying the earth…a tall order that the Hungarian capital, as it kept on keeping the day at bay, somehow contrived to deliver.

With the sub-zero temperatures and falling snow adding an exotic edge to our anticipation, we – my wife and I, intersecting trips allowing us to steal a weekend together in the city – set out from our hotel, glove in glove and scarves fluttering, headed for nearby Erzsébetváros (Elizabeth Town), the beating heart of the city’s after-hours action.   I’d been vaguely aware that Hungary was a wine producing country, having been (presciently!) introduced to one of their renowned dessert wines at a recent dinner.  Accordingly, being both keen to broaden my experience and to get the ball rolling for the evening with a few mellow glasses,  we made our way to Doblo, the city’s premier wine bar.  Luckily I’d booked because the place was packed to its exposed rafters – with a young, stylish crowd seemingly cast for this backdrop, described to me as “Brooklyn loft style”.  Call it whatever, it’s a happy space for some relaxed appreciation, the unplastered walls in particular giving a warm, cellar-like ambience.  The two of us wandered our way through Kreinbacher Extra Dry, apparently the country’s best bubbles, the visceral Bull’s Blood, the national blend, the best examples coming from the Eger and Szekszárd regions, a Royal Tokaji, the sweet wine that put the region on the map (and on my radar), and a few others recommended by the venue, until eventually, reluctantly, departing, a little more cultured than when we’d arrived, and thoroughly primed for the night ahead.

Given a charged itinerary that depended on getting from one place to the next efficiently and making the most of things in the short time available I’d been worried that communication difficulties might hamper us.  It came as a relief then, the extent of my language preparation having been to add the h-sound to the pronunciation of “Budapesht”, to find that English is spoken widely and well.  In fact the waiters we encountered had an almost native proficiency.  At our next stop, the intimate Gettó Gulyás for a spot of dinner, this facility played out to delicious advantage, the staff taking us through the menu in detail, understanding our preferences clearly, and making astute recommendations, a pleasing contrast to some of my other travels when choosing dishes had been a roll of the dice.  The food managed to strike an unpretentious balance between the unusual, the interesting, and the accessible: a soup of beetroot, cheese, cream, pear and parsley to start, a satisfyingly central European main of wild boar, and the odd-sounding but sumptuous tasting goat’s cheese dumplings with cinnamon dressing for dessert.  Encouragingly the pricing was comparable to SA, here and elsewhere in Budapest, which was surprising for Europe, even this far east.  We left Gettó, fuel in our tanks to fire the festivity to follow, feeling like we’d found the holy grail of foreign eateries: small and authentic, trendy but comfortable, frequented by locals, and, most importantly, magnificent – in both quality and value.

The two features for which Budapest’s nightlife is most reputed are its Ruin Bars, and the fact that it has the cheapest booze in Europe, the latter sounding a tad dubious to me, initially at least.  I had it in mind to enjoy a few digestifs after my dinner, a natural opportunity then to explore this scene, and to check out what all the fuss was about.  The problem with cheap liquor of course is that it tends to attract certain types of people.  The streets by this time were thronging, the glacial temperatures notwithstanding.  I caught glimpses of Irish, American, and English accents, and scatterings of French, German, Italian, and other languages that I couldn’t identify.  The odd bachelor and hen party cruised past.  Groups of revelers spilled out of bars.  Whether it was the price of drinks or the city’s many fine attributes, or a combination of these things, people had come here from all over to party.  Unswervingly though, at that point and for the rest of our visit, the atmosphere in the district was festive rather than rowdy – with not a hooligan in sight.  By the time we arrived at Szimpla my misgivings had laid to rest.

A Ruin Bar, whilst not a ruin as such, is pretty much true to the name.  It’s an old, dilapidated building that’s been transformed into a nightspot.  Szimpla Kert was the first of its kind, the mother from which all other Ruin Bars sprang.  The site was originally a furnace factory, subsequently converted into a residential block before falling into disuse.  It couldn’t be demolished or materially redeveloped, having been assigned heritage protection, so an enterprising entrepreneur decided to make a bar of it, creating a Budapestian tradition in the process.  There are now Ruin Bars all over the city, and elsewhere.  Szimpla, and the similar Fogas, our next stop, are stalwart examples, exuding the dingy, grotto cool that’s come to characterise these places.  We found ourselves in a maze of stained, pitted walls, raw floors, and random fittings and furnishings, amidst a deluge of other patrons.  Their popularity – each can and regularly do take in over 1000 guests at any one time – stems I’d venture from their distinctiveness, and also because they offer something for everyone (without diluting each experience), from raging dance floors to quieter lounges, from live music and traditional dancing to silent movies, and so much else that I lost track of it all.  We sampled two local favourites, my wife the mulled wine, me a few palinkas (fruit brandy), whilst we explored and soaked up the rising vibe.  When I next looked up it was already eleven.  Budapest was only just beginning to hit its straps.

One of the attractions that drew me to this city was the Danube, the second largest river in Europe, and once the frontier of the civilised world.  It is undeniably one of the world’s great rivers, so the idea of incorporating it into the night’s activities was hugely appealing.  Enter the A38, an old stone-carrier ship, moored on the Buda side of the river, now enjoying a second life as the best club in the world (an honour bestowed by Lonely Planet three years ago).  Elizabeth Town being in Pest, this required a bit of a mad dash to catch a tram over before the system shut down for the night.  It’s a bit of a trek, but well worthwhile for this inimitable experience.  We boarded the ship, impressively protruding out of the ice floes covering the river,  just in time for a performance by the German electronic mega-band Tangerine Dream.  I can’t claim that this is my preferred style of music but we abandoned ourselves to it, the dreamlike communion with hundreds of devotees in the hull of this ship taking us there, making the occasion unforgettable.

Back in the heartland, in Pest, things were starting to reach high gear.  We had a little left in us and we decided to make our last stand at Tesla, a pulsing dance club that’s as electric as the name suggests.  I merged a bit of deep house with few shots of Oban, and found it to my liking.  By this stage I knew I was going to pay the price the next day but I just didn’t care.  Tesla’s energy buoyed us along for a few hours, pointing and popping, shuffling, neck bobbing, fist pumping and Saturday night fevering, until we had to concede defeat.  An honourable defeat though.

At about five in the morning we were done.  Budapest however was not, and neither were our new found friends at Tesla.  It’s somewhat counter intuitive for a country on the eastern fringe of a time zone to be on this kind of late night cycle, especially in winter, but there was no disputing it, seen with my own eyes, tried and tested.  If you’ve got what it takes, which they clearly have over here, I guess it doesn’t matter.  Party like a Russian, end of discussion?  I beg to differ Robbie Williams, you’ve obviously never been to Budapest.

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We didn’t twiddle our thumbs whilst waiting for our epic night in Budapest to begin.

Spa culture

Swimming in the mist-shrouded outdoors in minus seven degree temperatures is surreal – but good surreal, in fact great surreal.  Budapest is built on a chain of hot, mineral springs, giving rise to the preponderance of spas that have earned it the name ‘City of Spas’.  Locals make regular visits a habit, touting the health benefits of the waters, although the premise struck me as social more than medicinal.  Széchenyi, one of the best-known and the one to which we gravitated, is a massive, sprawling complex of pools, steam rooms, saunas, and other spa facilities.  We opted for a massage before trying a variety of the warmer pools, culminating in a dip in the large, cascading expanse outside.  If you happen to be around in the warmer months, be sure to attend a unique Budapest “sparty” – which is, as the name suggests, a party in a spa!

Cruising the Danube

Whilst these city cruise setups are admittedly a bit formulaic, they’ve got a lot going for them nonetheless, presenting the opportunity to see some unparalleled vistas of a city, sit down to a traditional meal (chicken paprikash amongst others in our case – Hungarians are particularly proud of their paprika!), and listen to some live music.  Our experience with Danube Cruise broke the mould though, made special by the stunning sheets of shifting ice through which we were being propelled.  We felt compelled to sneak up to the prow for a Titanic moment.

Eating out

Kiosk is an all-encompassing, envelope-pushing bistro, set on a square facing the river.  The fabulous location is fittingly complemented by spectacular (renovated) eighteenth century accommodations which boast generous space and high ceilings, divulging their origins as a high school gymnasium.  Old Hungarian black and white movies are projected onto a wall, and there’s a tree canopied over the central bar, adding quirky flair to the polished ambience.  It’s a place for all seasons. The menu offers vegan, vegetarian and lactose free options throughout, the drinks list accounts for 250 varieties of Hungarian wine (stocked in a large walk-in fridge separating it from its adjacent fine-dining sister restaurant) and a range of hyper-creative cocktails, and the desserts, a speciality, are all produced at the in-house patisserie.   Try the ampoule cocktail, the forest mushroom soup, and any given pastry – outstanding!

If you’re looking for something a little more casual, a quick bite whilst you’re taking in the sights, you won’t go wrong at Bors.  This ridiculously popular little food bar puts out, under the vigilant eye of its Darth Vadar mascot, a range of soups, baguettes and desserts, and the odd pasta and salad as well.  I normally wouldn’t recommend going over to the dark side, but I’ll make a delicious exception in this case.  May the Bors be with you.

Budapest on blades

Imagine a giraffe on ice and you’ll get an idea of my skating talent.  Having heard though that Budapest hosts the largest outdoor rink in Europe (Városligeti Műjégpálya), I was determined to give it a go regardless.  And I was glad I did.  The long stretches of crisp ice underfoot, the beautiful old castle in the background, the whizzing and whirling crowd all around make for a sensational outing.  Furthermore, the place is quick to access – it’s a short walk from the nearest metro station – and skates are easily and cheaply rented on site.  Even the spasmodic exertions of my boskak style couldn’t dampen my enthusiasm. What a pleasure!

Marie Claire Budapest p1

As it appeared – p1.

Marie Claire Budapest p2

As it appeared – p2.

Marie Claire Budapest p3

As it appeared – p4.

Marie Claire Budapest p4

As it appeared – p4.

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Primed for whisky

Posted on 7 December 2017 by | Leave a comment

Wanted’s gallivanting guide to six of the finest

First published in Wanted Magazine December 2017.

Whisky, the so-called nectar of the gods (justifiably so!), originated in Ireland and Scotland, where over centuries it was passionately nurtured from humble beginnings to the globally popular drink that it is today.  We browsed through the collections of these two countries to find a few of the best.

The Glenlivet, Scotland’s first licensed distillery and industry groundbreaker, is synonymous with Scotch whisky and its history.  ‘’THE Glenlivet is THE ORIGINAL’’, says South African brand ambassador Isaac Pooe.  ‘’It’s been the Original Speyside Single Malt since 1824, setting the benchmark in taste, heritage and exploration ever since.  This is the reason I enjoy hosting private tastings so much – I get to reveal the story behind our whisky, and the tenacity of George Smith, the founder,  whose passion for his craft made me fall in love with whisky in the first place’’.

At the helm since 2009, Master Distiller Alan Winchester has ushered in a raft of progressive expressions from the Guardians’ Chapters and the Alpha to the extension of the Nadurra range, helping to entrench the brand as one of the world’s leading single malts.  It’s the inception of Founder’s Reserve though that’s been the most compelling development of recent years:  a multi-vintage whisky that triumphs in the ambitious trifecta of affordable, accessible, and interesting.

Nose: citrus fruit, sweet orange; Palate: zesty orange, pear, toffee apples; Finish: long, creamy, smooth

Wanted says: fruit compote in silky porridge

Equally special amongst the country’s gems is Aberlour (pronounced Aber-lauer).   Founded by James Fleming in 1879, there’s a deep sense of continuity and tradition at this distillery.  The acclaimed A’bunadh, a mouthful in every sense, was recreated from a bottle dating back to 1898.  And distilling chief Douglas Cruickshank, along with most of his team, has been forging these exceptionally balanced whiskies for some 25 years, not least the metronomic 12YO.

Nose: Soft and rounded, with fruity notes of red apple; Palate: A fine sherried character, balanced with rich chocolate, toffee, cinnamon and ginger spiciness; Finish: Warming and lingering – sweet and slightly spicy

Wanted says: a ripe plum of a whisky that’ll never let you down

Across in Ireland it’s single pot stills that preside, rather than single malts.  This once dominant style, made from both malted and unmalted barley, is staging a rousing comeback, led by the Midleton Distillery.  Crafted by a team under various “Masters” including Billy Leighton (Blending) and Brian Nation (Distilling), Midleton’s muscular pot still portfolio is making the rich, fruity and spicy band of the flavour spectrum its own.

The backbone of the style, especially during its hiatus, Redbreast is now the world’s best-selling single pot still.  The range numbers five delicious, aged expressions, but the 12YO remains the paterfamilias, exercising authority over both its stable and style with sheer force of character and weight of credibility.

Nose:  A complex spicy and fruity aroma with toasted wood notes evident.  Palate: Full flavoured and complex; a harmonious balance of spicy, creamy, fruity, sherry and toasted notes.  Finish:  satisfyingly long, the complex flavours linger on the palate.

Wanted says: Every day is Christmas with this baked melange of dark fruits

The Spot Whiskeys were named after the method of identifying the age of the casks used for their maturation i.e. by daubing them with a spot of coloured paint.  Yellow Spot, with its unusual mix of Bourbon, Sherry and Malaga cask influences, delivers a succulent sweetness is that is almost uniquely special.

Nose:  Mown hay & cracked black pepper. Red bell peppers, nutmeg, clove oil & green tea.  Sweet honey & peaches from the Malaga casks. Palate: Honey sweetness with pot still spices.  Flavours of fresh coffee, creamy milk chocolate & Crème Brûlée. Notes of red apples & toasted oak.  Finish: Sophisticated & complex with a sweetness throughout.   a mix of red grape & dry barley on exit.

Wanted says: a dripping honey pot infused with fruit and spice

Powers whiskey dates back to 1791 when James Power established a distillery at John’s Lane in Dublin.  Since then it’s built a reputation for bold to bursting, flavoursome whiskeys, one of latest exponents being the Signature Release.

Nose:  Crisp herbal notes with touches of nutmeg, fig and black pepper corns. Sweet vanilla, followed by succulent berry fruits.  Palate: Vanilla with black licorice and cinnamon reveal fresh fruit – melons, green apples and pears – followed by crisp barley.  Finish: Long and wonderfully complex honey and spice.

Wanted says: a punchy combination of orchard fruits and sweet spices

Its eponymous brand is also the distillery’s most premium, with good reason.  Whereas the others are overtly demonstrative, Midleton runs to subtlety, complexity and refinement.  The Barry Crockett Legacy takes its name from the distillery’s long serving, now retired Master Distiller, a pivotal figure in the resurgence of Irish whiskey.

Nose: Elegant aroma of vanilla and toasted oak complimented by a touch of lime, succulent green berries, pears and green sweet pepper.  Palate: Light pepper carries onto fresh citrus, limes and mandarin orange sweetness. A hint of cinnamon with vanilla and oak reveals its years spent in American oak.  Finish: The full spectrum of flavours lasts well into the finish, slowly fading to expose the clean American oak foundation.

Wanted says: sweet creaminess and autumn leaves one moment, treacly honey, tart fruits, and tangy candy the next, it reveals one delight after the next – drink it in slow reflection of time well spent

Wanted Magazine Dec 2017 p2

As it appeared.

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