the original plum torte and more

marion burros' original plum torte

autumn has begun to show face. she is plums the colour of dark bruises and apples like rosy cheeks. she has come to replace peaches with sun gold flesh, nectarines, glossy strawberries and blackberries. there was so much sweetness and warmth in the soft fruits this year, nurtured by a strong summer sun and plenty of heat. i have polished punnets of raspberries and strawberries with little embellishment. the peaches were at their best eaten leaning over the sink. their sticky juices running down my arms and chin. the kentish cherries this year were as if they had been candied, such was the texture of their flesh.

an afternoon tea from diana henry's salt sugar smoke

salt sugar smoke signed for me

i discovered the world of food writing in the late nineties but it wasn’t until nigel slater’s toast that i seriously started drawing up lists of food writing that i wanted to read. over the last few years my food book rolls have come to include cookery books as well. this is because cookery books today are as much a pleasure to read, as they are to cook from. their prologues and prefaces hold much promise and often reveal the personality of the chef. 

rose bakery, dover street market

rose bakery, dover street market

rose bakery looks like a polished industrial unit with its grey-silver surfaces. the tableware is grey-green and is very sturdy, as are the cast iron teapots. cakes in hues of yellow progressing to orange and chocolate are seated on the long length of counter. the carrot cake is impressive. it is shaped like an angular cup cake with a crown of frosting. the space is fragranced by a spiced crumble warming itself in the oven behind the counter.

i was introduced to rose bakery by t, the brains behind the london review cake shop. it’s hidden away on the fourth floor of dover street market, the independent and swanky outpost of tokyo based designer rei kawakubo. on my first visit there t and i had large bowls of chickpea and spinach soup. there is no other way to describe the soup than by saying it had received ‘mayfair’ treatment. rose bakery’s version of spinach and chickpea soup is sophisticated. it  had been pureed to the point that it still retained texture. it was a substantial soup with roasted flavours and was decorated with a flourish of fruity olive oil and a hint of parsley. it was exceptionally good.

date scones

o and i returned a couple of weeks later for afternoon tea. it was the week that he had become british and so we decided to go the traditional route and have scones and tea. although not the traditional kind (wholemeal and date) they were excellent because they had all the characteristics of a classic scone. endearingly irregular, they had a golden brown top and were easy to break open into half with out using a knife. most importantly they had that lingering aftertaste of soda that comes a combination of leavening agents. they were accompanied by a pat of butter and two kinds of jam. i had a yellow-orange fresh fig jam and o a blue-purple morello cherry. the jams were more fruity than sweet which was perfect. i just wish that the butter had been clotted cream. to me scones are never complete without that dense, almost yellow cream.

dover street market

come to rose bakery if you happen to be around mayfair and want a cup of tea and something sweet. you are unlikely to be disappointed. i for one am planning a return for the carrot cake.    

tea at the wolseley

wolseley, a london institution

my mum-in-law is in london and both o and i wanted to treat her to something special and something british. it was the perfect occasion to have tea at the wolseley. the cafe-restaurant is a beautiful and old period building. it was originally conceived as a showroom for cars but the business failed fairly quickly. from nineteen twenty seven to nineteen ninety nine it was a barclay's bank (much to o's astonishment who works at barclay's). and since two thousand and three it has been a restaurant. 

the tea rooms

sunny april afternoon found i and i walking through clissold park up to stoke newington church street. dotting the length of this road are a host of curious caffs, coffee and sandwich shops and bakeries. we walked into spence cafe; and then into the parlour that had very innovative offerings for jacket potatoes only to be ousted by leisurely sunday brunch goers who wouldn't vacate any seats. we wandered back onto the street and seconds later landed up at the tea rooms. we had initially walked past it assuming that it wouldn’t have much to offer by way of savouries. i had a bowlful of carrot and coriander soup served with a wholemeal scone. the soup had an air of indian spice and tasted of it as well. the scone gave way easily into two halves and eating it revealed an after note of a hint of soda.

i’s goats cheese and butternut tart was full of warm earthy tones and comforting flavour. the pastry was exceptionally good too. i's afternoon tea and my earl grey came served in delightful british tea sets. glancing around we saw afternoon tea being served. a pretty little cake stand decked with small cakes, scones and finger sandwiches with tea served in the quintessential british tea set in white and blue is a good reason for a next [imminent] visit.

afternoon t at the rose lounge

roses

late saturday afternoon found i and i with three other ladies at the sofitel on piccadilly. we had to wait a while in the bar since our five o’clock reservation was significantly delayed by a group of ladies taking their tea at leisure. i guess windows of reservation seldom apply to female conversations. eventually we were seated in the very feminine rose lounge. soft pastel pinks and books whose covers were rose visuals made up the place. low sofas lined with substantial cushions were inviting and comfortable to settle into. shelves of books lined the spaces that are not mirrors or murals. for the most part the lounge is occupied by women.