Marra Marra* take 2

Just when we’d dried our tears and come to terms with not being able to make it to this months pop up, the stars aligned and the opportunity arose, and so, you lucky devils, we have a more than welcome return of Marra* ! A very different vibe, but a resounding big fat smash out of the ballpark once again.

This one took us on a journey of many a surprise; calling in at the likes of a crab custard, cherry soup and a massive sausage. I know I know, I’ll stop teasing- read on for more.

As we weren’t expecting to try out the goods of Lewis Bassett’s staycation at Marra, we hadn’t done what we normally do: think about it every day for the week leading up and discuss what we’ll be having (had we done this though, we’d still not have been prepared). We visited for the Saturday 12 o clock service, again, not our norm and ,I’ll admit, while it’s not fancy pancy kinda deal,  it’s a special type of meal, and I personally wasn’t sure how it’d be having this at lunchtime, but I can confirm the space lends itself to both day and evening very well, if you had any doubts.

In house elderflower soda for me and 0.0 beer for Matt. Laveleyyy. Kicking things off was a trio of nibbles- slices of picked marrow, an almond blancmange and a lil bite of deep fried yogurt, with some kinda jam on top, forgive me, in the whirlwind of flavours the jams ingrediental makeup has escaped me (please don’t take my blog away from me!). Either way, yep yep yep. The pickle on the marrow was gentle and sweet, the blomonge was unlike anything I’ve had, and the yog hit all the crispy creamy combo hopes and dreams.

Next up, beer bread and butter. The bread was made from the yeast that comes from beer production, and was glazed in a Guiness.. glaze. Sticky, molassesy, banging. Can’t go wrong really can you? But, I shall challenge, this is about as right as I’ve ever known bread to go, frankly.

We then had a taste of both the starters on offer- a cherry soup with crème fraîche, and a crab custard. It was probably around here it became clear how impressive Lewis is and the refinement of his palette. The soup was incredibly unique- sharp, sweet and, I thought, almost cocktail like- likely because there was a mention of rose in there? Now I’m not a cocktail drinker, and so sharing this one worked well for me, but a refreshing delight nonetheless. The crab custard was silky smooth and perfectly balanced, topped with all sorts of good things (again, if you want specifics this ain’t the time nor place unfortunately).

Then was the mains. In all of our unpreparedness, we did manage a cheeky look at the menu on the drive there, and both agreed we’d be going for the sausage- a Lake District scotch- but the team had kindly prepared us one of everything to try, and- this is directly to the team- ThankYou! The alternative was a pea and courgette pudding. They came with smoked new potatoes and a simple yet yum salad. We both loved each dish a hell of a lot, and were particularly taken back by the pea pud. It was, I’m assuming, a suet-based encasing (the same things as my grandmas stew dumplings are made of, and I hope you’ve been lucky enough to have something similar, the ultimate source of stodgy- in the best sense- comfort). Fab. And lest we brush over the sausage! Never mind sausage party, this was a gala worthy triumph. Not your average banger- no crispy skin here folks. Instead we were blessed with a gurthy package (too far?) of rich, meaty goodness (you’re the one making it dirty now) with a generous duo of sauce and a fitty fit fit gravy. Both dishes went beautifully with the accompanying sides and we were left two happy, carb-stuffed chappys.

Finally, we had a brown butter cake with earl grey ice cream and apricot. Appropriately the cake was fairly dense; you wouldn’t want it any other way. The ice cream was unmistakable and punchy along side the more subtlety tangy apricot. A well rounded bowl of pure satisfaction, go team.

In true Marra* style, we even got some lil shortbread bites, made in the tradition, local way. How lovely.

As I round off, I apologise if there’s someone out there wanting some drama or negativity (if so, try the news babe) but I see your point. It would be an interesting turn to read some plot twist and see how my writing works when it’s not paragraph after paragraph of pure ego stroking, but what can I say, Marra is, as far as we’re concerned, top tier. There were things that were new to us, and maybe we didn’t fully appreciate- apparently there was rose in the blancmange, as the refined guests to our side noted- but it felt like a masterclass, and as someone who can only dream of reaching that level of cheffery, I feel lucky to have been sat front row.

Lewis clearly put so much thought and care into this pop up, each dish served with an in depth, heavily considered back story relating to the area and traditional techniques.

We loved it all, no surprise, and can’t wait for the next one.

Marra Marra*

FINALLY we find ourselves writing about the North! And not only that, we’re about to discuss a bloody BELTER of a spot. Buckle in.

Marra Marra the newest addition to the Lancaster food scene (a sparse one albeit). It is a pop up restaurant spear headed by an old pal of mine, Abi Hampsey, and new pal (I’d like to presumptuously hope) Michaela. Between them there are many fingers in many different pies, from painting to bread making, but what they don’t know about hospitality is, as far as we’re concerned, not worth knowing.

The vision was born from a frustration we share- theres crap all good to eat up here. The vision, ethos and talent shared is top notch, and it all shines blindingly through what Marra has become.

In their words: THE SET-UP: NO IN-HOUSE CHEF — WE HOST A NEW CHEF EACH MONTH FROM RESTAURANTS ALL OVER THE UK. THEY BRING THEIR OWN MENU, SPECIALLY CREATED FOR US, CHAMPIONING LOCAL PRODUCERS AND SEASONAL INGREDIENTS

We joined the team for their second event- the birthday special- finding ourselves lucky enough to see behind the scenes, joining them in the kitchen on opening night, before trying it all out for ourselves on the Saturday. Abi herself cheffed it up for this one, and, no suspense here, we find ourselves seriously baffled as to what can’t this gal do?! Insane culinary scenes on display at the priory hall, that’s for sure.

The venue itself is unassuming, sitting politely behind Atkinsons hall- where Abi and I used to work. Approaching, you’ll be met with the familiar orange glow and just-about-view of wine-lined walls as seen at any self respecting, likely hip eatery of this day and age. Maybe I’m licking too far up the arse of Marra Marra to go as far to say that even the foyer was cute- the buzz word of this place- but genuinely, it was.

All menus are set and pre-ordered, with simple veggie/ meat alternatives, which was a first for us but I bloody loved it; I mean, lets be honest, I know what I’m going to order a month in advance at any place we go. The tables, which were set with flowers, tall candles, mini menus which told all about the producers and suppliers of the foods, and even party blowers (come on now!)- were long, 6 seaters, meaning conversations flowed between you and the strangers beside you, naturally discussing, and proclaiming, the food and wine, as it should be. We got a bottle of the Gran Cerdo red, and started off with a dish of ‘strawberries, feta and mint salad, topped with pangritata’. Now obviously we’d seen this being prepared, and obviously it looks beautiful, but Id be lying if I said I thought it would be something surprising. Boy was I mistaken and greatly underestimating this dish, which in fact quite literally made us made us “wow” repeatedly. It heroed the minimal elements with such expertise and got the night off to a great start.

Next, the first of the secret snacks- a devilled egg. May seem random, but why would you not want a one-bite throw back filled with fun and mayo?! Yummy.

The next course was a focaccia crostini, chicken liver pate, quince jelly and a radish with salty butter. Again, a shocker, in the best way. I’ve never been a pate gal, never mind one of a chicken’s liver, but call me a convert because along side the jelly, atop the crispy bread, it was incredible. The radish ,too, was delightful.

Then, a fancy skewer of cheese and pickled onion and Roger Cowgill’s famous crumbly cheese. The fame is warranted. Usually I can take or leave cold cheese… but this one melts in the mouth and is beautifully tangy. To be honest, I gobbled it too quickly in anticipation after having a sneaky try in the kitchen two nights before.

The main was pie- our fave, and I’m calling it: top 2, if not best pie I’ve had. (matts hesitant to join me in such a statement- we’re big pie people… a pie spotlight to come?!.. Sorry, back to Marra) We got one beef and one chicken, which we split and shared, naturally. It came with cabbage, asparagus, and garlic butter coated jersey royals, plus the gravy. Sub. Lime. Just the ideal, hearty main. We both preferred the chicken, marginally, but I was glad to have had both, each offering something different and beautiful. Not to forget, potatoes- fit as.

After this rich dish, you’d probably want something refreshing, palette cleansing and, sticking within the theme, something fun, right?  Well the final secret snack nailed this- it was a kendal mint cake flavoured ice lolly. Yep. Simply spot on.

Nearly finally, but not quite, pud time. Our mouths were then blessed with a spelt and honey cake, served with a rooibos (tea) flavoured ice cream. From here on out I fear cake and a brew will never live up to its former glory, for this was extraordinary.

And here folks, we reach the final course. Tying off the night was a lovely lil Americano- Atkinson's archetype- and a slice (slab?) of Grassmere Gingerbread. I wont even bother telling you how this went down.

If it wasn’t clear enough, we bloody loved it, like utterly adored it. Its bigger than the food too, its the little details. We spoke a lot to the lovely couple sat beside us, and they agreed that the quirkiness of it all was so unique and therefore so special- it was the tactile bits and bobs. We were even given party bags, in keeping with the birthday theme, in which were sweets of childhood, some of Abi’s focaccia, and, my favourite bit, vintage pin badges.

Since I’ve been in London, it’s only become more apparent to us just how sparse the food scene is up here. Marra has had two events so far, and it’s so clear from the response it’s gotten just how much of a want and need there is for something different and, simply, good. We are so excited to see where this goes and couldn’t recommend a visit more.

Thank you again to the team for having us, we shall be back.

 

Esters

Two visits in one here fellow chodders.

Esters came onto my radar over a month ago and have been saving it until Matt was back down. Well worth the wait. clearly, we went twice in 5 days.

I think what I love so much,-yeah, we’ve reached the love stage after only 2 dates- is the sincerity behind it, which may sound odd but please accept, and I hope you join in, my deep rooted emotional connection to what is ,some may say, merely seeing, chewing and digesting. This place, in all its avenues, is the epitome of ‘bright’. The interior, including the outdoor space at the back, is beautiful. The folks that work there, lovely. And the food.. spot on.

From the two visits, supported by my online stalking, the pastry counter is constantly provides a selection of both familiarity and interest. Though I’m yet to try something from the cabinet, I was both times extremely tempted.

Now to what we actually did have. Firstly, the coffee is great, I go black, and here that was their batch brew- yum. Matt’s partial to the odd espresso, also yum I’m told.

On our first visit we both went for the breakfast sandwich- a potato roll, scrambled egg, lava, spinach + Caerphilly, with the optional addition of black pudding. Matt went for the add on, I did not, (although I did try some of his, and for my first time trying black pudding, I was very pleasantly surprised). Anyway, we’ve all had a breakfast sandwich before, you know what you’re getting, and it’s great, not a lot more can be or needs to be said, but here I fricken go. It was just great, like genuinely the best breakfast sarnie I have ever ever come across. It was a messy fella, but cor was it worth the drips down to your elbow of the stunning green sauce. Absolutely a brilliant way to begin any day.

The second time around, a creature of habit, matt got the same, and while I was very tempted to join him, I instead opted for the fried eggs + toast, with roasted chickpeas, winter tomatoes, carrot puree, árbol-lime salsa and the add on of halloumi. Now, again, ive had similar dishes, which are so often either one note or overly hit with the old paprika, but this was so complex and just damn satisfying. Eggs and toast always runs a high probability of you leaving, knowing you’ve just payed upwards of the price of a live chicken for something you could have done better at home, but that, I’m happy to report, was far from the case here.

Needless to say, we’ll be returning- honestly this place might be the saving grace of my uni work, its genuinely got me wanting to tip tap away just as an excuse to sit here and then order some carrot cake 10 words later.

 

The Plimsoll

If we’re being logical, popping to the plimsoll on a (realistically) random Monday evening -which we’re insanely lucky to be able to do- is probably not a move to make, purely from a financial standpoint. However, if maturing and consequently thinking in this way means we no longer do this sorta thing, oh lord, halt me from such ageing.

Don’t get it twisted, The Plimsoll isn’t an extortionate joint, the issue lies in our unwavering obsession for the flavours and vibes here along side a menu which from we would literally order every item if we could.

The place itself is unnassuming, through the day that is. On any given evening you’ll recognise it as a spot from the crowds surrounding it- inside is split, half pub which is cosy (rammed- hence the overflow) ,half ‘restaurant’, although calling the eating space this doesn’t quite feel apt… tbd. The interior is a style I can’t quite place and could not be replicated elsewhere. I’ll be honest, what i’m trying to say in an articulate way is that this place is so fucking cool, imo.

We got a bottle of red and kicked off the meal with the battered cod cheek and tartar sauce, which was served on little bits of baguette.. need I elaborate? Then came the OBLIGATORY -im serious- fried potatoes and aioli, along with the asparagus + comté fondue. Potatoes, perfection. Asparagus, a very much needed sense of green and a delightful pitstop. Then was the burger. If you’re a foodie, which I think i’m right in presuming, i’m sure you’ve seen this somewhere on one of the fyp’s. But does it live up?? Simply, hell yes. I will say we thought it was slightly different to when we last had it, not distinguishably so, and not to its detriment, it is an unfaltering banger. I shan’t say anymore, you’ll just have to see for yourself. After this (I know, I know), we had the lamb chop, piattoni and chilli. This was devine, not too spicy, cooked perfectly, very yum.

Now, deserts we can take or leave- me leaning more to the take, matt to the leave- but, I don’t know whether it was the 3/4 of the bottle we’d consumed, or just the deep sadness that the meal could have ended there and then (it was both), but we went for the lemon and pistachio tart (me), as well as the mint choc chip ice cream (matt). This is also unusual for us as 99% of the time we share deserts, sorry to disappoint. For me, the tart was my IDEAL dessert, so I may be biased in my review, but this is my review so I guess that’s the point. The lemon came from the curd (?) on the side, with the tart being an almost crumbly, datey tasting pistachio number. No notes. The ice cream was MINT. Like straight outta the garden mint, making us question what the hell it is we’ve been used to all these years. It wasn’t too strong mind you, just right.

I do understand this is one big arse lick, but quite frankly the plimsoll deserves nothing less. We shall be returning time and time again.

 

rake - The Compton Arms

Saturday March 3rd

The Compton arms, oh where to begin? probably context if we’re being technical. In their own words, The Compton Arms has a ‘history of strong and varied residencies’, and from what we’ve seen and heard through the grapevine, that they do. Currently Rake resides here, and I for one hope and pray and pray some more they remain as such for the foreseeable.

The pub itself is our preferred classic combo of cosy with an edge. It’s always rammed, and so it’s even more of a delight to be directed through to the exclusive-feeling ‘snug’ - just 4 tables, each determinable as a good one. We even had the same server as our last visit, which I will say, speaking for both of us, did impart a slight sense of superiority in this being our ‘regular spot’ - please read in an obnoxious, old money voice.

Kicking off we had the house bloomer +whipped butter, these were BIG old slabs, and that’s coming from a chip-butty-single-northern-dad-raised girl, and I’d be lying if I were to say it didn’t seem unnecessarily so at first, however, as was the case last time, sure enough as the wine flows and saucy dishes come, that bread is demolished. Next was the crisp pressed lamb, anchovy + herbs. FUCK ME, simply. Now these fellas look unassuming, but oh my they were incredible. I can’t quite describe what it was that made them so good, and no photo can show it either, but just the perfect salty, braised, fried way to get things going. Following this, the Cornish mackrel, creme fraiche + horseradish. Honestly machrel isn’t really my jam, but I did enjoy it, especially with the old bloomer. Matt on the other hand loves the stuff, so he was chuffed. Then, my friends (right??) , was the miracle on a plate- for two reasons. Not only is this because the Compton hot dog a thing of wonder and beauty, but also because, had we gone on another, non- match day, having it once again, after continuously thinking about it since, wouldn’t have been possible. Basically, it’s not on the current menu, but the bar serves it on match days, which I spotted stated on the way in. Never has something been so worth checking about. It is just something else, I almost don’t want to try to sum it up, so I wont. Go, try it, and together we can keep it on the menu. Finishing up the savoury, we had the Whole baked lemon sole + tartar, along side the chips and curry mayo. What a way to go out. Chips, perfect, mayo, beautifully familiar yet new. The fish was cooked beautifully- though, completely on us, the bones were a struggle- and the sauce, wow. A buttery, complex delight. We were literally eating it with spoons.

Topping it all off, we had a dark choc tart. Im currently on my journey to truly enjoying dark chocolate, but this was indeed lovely. Once again, we left in awe of the chefs here, stumbling merrily home. We couldn’t recommend more.