Yo ho ho...

He says...

The train tickets are booked - we're heading to Hastings this Sunday. And what a day to choose, for it will be Hastings Pirate Day! In which the city will attempt to reclaim its crown of hosting largest gathering of pirates! The Red Arrows will even be performing a fly past!


Apparently 4,500 people turned out for last year's event. Now this is something I'm genuinely quite excited about.


Time to go home and write our farewell letters to our families...

Rod Stewart's sweaty face

He says...


Spotted this - 34 in Mayfair, part of the Caprice group... slightly off-putting that we might have to suffer the presence of an oleaginous Rod Stewart salivating over one of his blonde bints. But still, by the time 34 comes around (roughly August 2014), I'd like to think I'll have a job that allows me to happily splash £160 on a single portion of caviar.


Meanwhile, I lunched at sexy Orient Express-vibed Bob Bob Ricard today and while I had a rather nice borscht, the evening menu looks much more exciting...


Meanwhile meanwhile, we've decided Hastings' Pier Nine is the place - maybe next weekend, maybe the weekend after. Could be a good excuse for a boozy Sunday lunch then a leisurely walk along the seafront in the POURING RAIN...

More nine options...

He says...

Yes yes Kat, Pier 9 looks alright, BUT. WHAT. ABOUT. Thai 9 in Reading. Not a city I would normally go anywhere near since I stopped the annual visits to Reading Festival, the last time of which was 2010 when the over-rated Arcade Fire irritated me enough to be permanently put off the festival.

By the way, I have recently discovered that our stats on this blog go up when we include names of Google-able famous people, Lady Gaga.

But anyway Thai 9 does serve both thai and sushi, which I like both of... Both of which I like. And its decor is reminiscent of the Match of the Day studio... hopefully Gary Linekar won't walk past our table leering suggestively and rubbing his crotch, putting us off our mussel omelette.

Bond No 9 in Edinburgh is a 'stylish and exciting' (like zorbing in a dinner jacket) lounge bar at The Shore, whatever that is. Probably near the sea or some other water. Looks on the cheesy side. It's 'food menu', as opposed to its 'brunch menu' (??) includes confit duck and shiitake mushroom risotto, among the usual fish and chips bollocks. Nah.

And there are also a number of Chinese restaurants up and down the country called Nine Dragons, all of which look utter shit.

And my only other find is Nine in London Bridge, which does have 'big name DJs' like Tony Haze and Kos Evans, but it doesn't do food. Not even a Cos lettuce.

It's decision time!

Nine by the seaside... a trip to Hastings?

 
She says....

Despite the blinding nautical brightness of the interior, I'm definitely liking the idea of  a trip to Pier 9 in Hastings. It's supposed to be a lovely historical seaside town so, if this interminal rain will just stop, a weekend jaunt to the beach would be a real treat, a proper day out.


Although that would mean breaking our newly formed rule of going to the restaurant on the same date in the month as the number in the title. 9th July is a Monday. Not ideal for making a day of it.... unless........... we skive.. shhhhhhhhh....

Spotted... 28-50

He says...

28-50, a 'wine workshop and kitchen', in Blackfriars. I want to go here when we get to 28 (preferably not 50) - the food looks deeply sexual...

Options for nine...

He says...

A speedy post before the pub beckons... Nine - the number of lives a cat has; the number of ladies dancing; the... oh you know.

Options: The Cafe du Pont-Neuf in erm Paris, which doesnt even seem to have a menu on its website; The Number 9 in Colchester - which looks pretty good actually, particuarly the Sunday lunch; The Four O Nine in Clapham North... oh no we went there for Number 4 didn't we. That foie gras parfait was good enough to go again though.

PS Kat is currently undergoing a quest to find the best scotch egg in West London and has so far sampled a number of ones, both runny and hard-boiled from pubs in the area.

Perhaps she can tell us some more about her findings at some point...?

EIGHT: 8 Treasures

She says....

Pig trotters lie heavy in the stomach. Particularly when combined with beef stomach hotpot. I discovered this at restaurant #8. The only sure cure was a lemoncello sorbet. Bless the Italians for inventing a tasty version of washing up liquid to clean you out after a meal consisting mainly of fat.

But apparently we’re just a couple of  lilly-assed kids who know nothing as the waitress informed us there’s a local Chinese contingent in there everyday about 5pm to get their trotter fix.

That must keep the place going to be honest because, despite the rather impressive interior, it was entirely empty when we arrive about 7:45pm on a Friday. I guess a Chinese is a takeaway or late night kebab substitute for the population of Ealing.

We had to do it though, and I’m glad we did. When the texture of the stomach started to make me heave, the tender sliced beef making up the rest of the dish kept me going back for more.  When I couldn’t bring myself to bite into the blubbery blanket wrapping the trotter I just licked the delicious liquoricy honey and soy sauce off the surface.

But maybe next time I’ll stick to large portions of the salt and pepper spare rib starter. Now, that DID go down well.

Restaurant #8: 7/10



He says....
 

After a quick pint in Ealing’s North Star, we left id a chill in the air tht air tht friend Niall chatting with his bearded chum Barry and walked over the road to 8 Treasures, and it was… completely empty. I guess people in Ealing don’t go for a Chinese at 7.30pm. 

It’s one of those Chinese restaurants that’s really quite unnecessarily big - from back in the days when going for a Chinese was the height of fashion. Sadly, these days 8 Treasures has had to introduce a karaoke room to (attempt to) get the punters back in with the promise of 'It’s Raining Men' with their crispy duck.

And so we were treated to the full complement of staff desperate to get a drinks order out of us until we finally gave in to their weedling and ordered a bottle of something or other. 

And then a rather friendly man – perhaps the manager - probed us about where we were from, much like the waitress at Table Seven. Are we noticing a trend here? Could it be that word is getting around about our quest? Probably not if our stats are anything to go by.

In courageous mood, we decided it was offal time, and chose for our main course the risky-sounding beef stomach in hot pot, which we decided would be happily accompanied by braised pigs trotters shanghai style… a sumptuous meal of guts and feet, basically. 

Could it be that we order things like this just because our parents would be horrified, like the cuisine equivalent of teenagers listening to Marilyn Manson in their bedrooms?

We decided to precede the offal with the far more normal ‘8 treasures spare rib’... and the deep fried cocktail crab claw served with sweet chilli dip. We went for the ribs coated in garlic, salt and chilli.

The crab claw didn’t seem real somehow, like it was actually a deep fried cheese stick with a pincer shoved into the end, but the spare ribs were a satisfyingly meaty treat after a day of hard graft in the office.

As more people filtered in we started to feel a little less singled out by the staff and tucked into our rather daunting main courses. The stomach was rubbery and had a fascinatingly corrugated texture and wasn’t exactly good. But the trotters were swathed in a rich honey and soy sauce that had an uncanny similarity to liquorice. 

Sadly too much offal is not always a good thing, and after devouring the lot we both came over all queasy and regretful, like we’d performed some dark sex act. I turned to banana fritters to lift me from this gloom, with all of the associated memories of childhood innocence. 

After that, sleepiness took hold and we decided to head home with our tummies full of tummy and without even doing the karaoke.

(The name 8 Treasures refers to the Buddhist Eight Auspicious Treasures, or ‘babao’.)

Restaurant #8: 6/10